LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 430 126 2 # ?97 SHE STOOPS TO CONOUER A COMEDY IN FIl^E ACTS OLIVER GOLDSMITH ^d from the prompt-copy of the late William Warren, and exhibiting all the usual cuts and stage business BOSTON ^i^^^^^M^.,J^s>^ :> 1897 ;OPf, CHARACTERS, V Charles Marlow Y iNG Marlow . . S ) IRE Hardcastle (J. ORGE Hastings . r MY^LUMPKIN . . .L'.iGORY .... Rl'GER Dick Thomas Si :ngo, La7idlord of the '* Three Pigeons^'. Slang Jimmy \\ vT Muggins . . T -M Twist . . . Aminadab .... Mrs. Hardcastle. K VTE Hardcastle Constance Neville Maid Barmaids, Pot-boys, xvd Postillion. Sir Charles Marlow Young Marlow. . Squire Hardcastle George Hastings . Tony Lumpkin • . iggory .... Landlord of Pigeons " UGGINS . . wist . . . I \DAB .... Hardcastle . , Hardcastle -tance Neville D maids, Pot-boys, and Pos- llion. First Production Covetit Garde7i, London, Mar. 15, 1773. Lee Lewes. Edward Shuter. Du Bellamy. John Quick. First New York Production, Aug. 2, 1773. Owen ]\Iorris. John Henry. Mr. Goodman. Mr. Byerly. Lewis Hailam. ]Mr. Hughes. 57273 Mrs. Green. Mrs. Owen Morris. Mrs. Bulkeley. Mrs. Hailam. Mrs. Kniveton. Miss Storer. Brooklyn, N.V., February, 1896. . T. L. Coleman. . Robert Taber. . William F. Owen. . Henry Doughty. . Edmund Lawrence. .* Dodson Mitchell. . Frederick Murphy. . James T. Barton. . T. L. Cartwright. the . Edward L. Stuart. George Marion. Arthur B. Price. John Mitchell. Edward Howard. Mrs. Sol Smith. Julia Marlowe Taber (isttime). Eugenia Woodward. Eda Aberle. Boston Museum, Sept. 12, 1867. C. L. Farwell. L. R. She well. Robt. F. McClannin. Harry B. Hudson. William Warren. J. H. Ring. C. W. Hayes. Mr. Pierce. Walter Kelly. F. Edwards. A. de Warne. J. R. Pitman. James Burrows. Mrs. J. R. Vincent. Annie Clarke (ist time). Mrs. T. M. Hunter. Carrie Giddis. lVallack's,N.Y., Feb. 25, 1876. J. W. Shaj in. Lester Wa ck. John Gilbert. Charles A. Stevenson. Harry Becket. W. J. Leonard. J. Curran. Harry Josephs. E. M. Holland. F. Morgan. C. E. Edward Mrne. Po.iisi. Ada Dyris. lone Burke. Ethel Thornton. M. The action of the play is confined to one evening. Copyright, 1897, by Walter H. Baker & Co. All rights reserved. Notice. — This arrangement of " She Stoops to Conquer," together with the business " .. -J, ha.s been duly protected by copyright, and <-qnrifit be reprinted without riermis- '*..£ the publishers. Periormancef.ee. INTRODUCTION When ambitious playmakers are looking for proofs that mana- gers are not infallible in their judgments of manuscript plays, Oliver Goldsmith's " She Stoops to Conquer" always comes to mind. Its author had already had one comedy produced when he oifered this play to Colman, then manager of Covent Garden, London, who re- fused it twice, and finally only consented to put it into rehearsal because he could not resist the arguments of that rnaster of cham- pions, Dr. Samuel Johnson, who, aided by Bishop White, pleaded success-'^tdly for at least a fair hearing for the play. But though Colma'u consented to lend his stage for that purpose, he was not convinced, and up to the end of the first performance his opinion of the play was held by the actors. To them tlie chances of its failure seemed so certain, that the popular leading man, "Gentle- man" Smith, as he was called, — who was the original Charles Sur- face, — declined to play Young Marlow, declaring the rdle " most ungenteel ; " and Henry Woodward, who was one of the best come- of his time, followed suit by refusing to play Tony Lumpkin. /V^hat the fate of " She Stoops to Conquer" would have been without the aid of Dr. Johnson it is too difficult to decide. But those who are interested in the methods by which plays were as- sured a certainty of success in those days will find a full description of the first night of this play in Richard Cumberland's " Memoirs." Cumberland was one of the party, including Goldsmith, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Caleb Whitefoord,and Fitzherbert, that on Mar. 15, 1773, sat down to an early dinner at the Shakespere Tavern, London, with Dr. Johnson in his most victorious spirit at the head of the table, and who marched afterward to Covent Garden to applaud " She Stoops to Conquer," led by Johnson himself from the front of a box. The play was a success, although once or twice the claque lost its head, and seemed as likely to swamp as to float it. The author did not venture into the theatre on that memorable first night until his friends sent for him just before the fifth act went on, 3 4 INTRODUCTION. and when the fate of the play was assured. He then ventured to say to the still agitated Colman that he was afraid one joke put into the mouth of Tony Lumpkin might not be relished. "Damn it, Doctor," replied Colman, "don't be terrified at a squib; why, we have been sitting for two hours on a barrel of gunpowder!" That remark so hurt Goldsmith's pride that all friendly feeling between him and the manager ended then and there. The defection of Smith and Woodward gave two actors, after- ward well known in London, their first great opportunities, — Lee Lewes, who created Young Marlow, and John Quick — known as " Little Quick " — who was the first Tony Lumpkin. Of its very first production in America one cannot be quite cer- tain. It was probably at the John Street Theatre, New York, Aug. 2, 1773. That was in the fifth season of the theatre, and Hallam and Henry, the first firm of New York managers, were both in the cast. In Boston " She Stoops to Conquer" has been less seldom given than most of the old comedies. Among tlie most successful of the Boston Kate Hardcastles were Miss McBride, who made her (Ubut here in the part Sept. 16, 1826; Miss Vincent, Miss Annie Clarke, Miss May Waldron (Mrs. Stuart Robson), and Julia Marlowe Taber. The very best Tony Lumpkin was that of William War- ren, first played at the Museum during his first season there, — 1847- 1848, — and not yet equalled by the few players who have tried it. In the present edition is printed for the first time all the stage business that has become incorporated into the piece in one hun- dred and twenty-three years, and was as well known to old actors and managers as the text itself, although up to date it has only been preserved in the traditions of players and the prompt-books of old theatres. M. A. Boston, June, 1897. INTKODUCTION. PROPERTIES. ACT I. Scene I. — Hand-bell on Prompter's desk. Whip for Tony. Scene II. — Whips for Marlow, Hastings, and Postillion. Ale-mugs in bar. Pipes, punch-bowl, and lighted candles on table. ACT II. Bell to ring in L. U. E. Lighted candles, L. u. E. Punch tankard, L. 2 E. Bill of fare, L. 2 E. Fan and shawl for Miss Hardcastle. Apple in Tony's pocket and whip for Tony. ACT III. Casket, r. U.E. ; string and cup and ball for Tony. Bunch of big keys, L. 2 E. for Miss Hardcastle. ACT IV. Bunch of keys for Miss Hardcastle. Broom and letter, L. 2 E. for Diggory. ACT V. Scene I. — Whip for Tony. Cane for Hardcastle. COSTUMES. Sir Charles Marlow. — Gentleman's old-fashioned blue suit, camlet fly, and cocked hat. Hardcastle. — Old-fashioned camlet suit, cocked hat, and scarlet roquelaire. Young Marlow. — First dress : Dark green coat, white waistcoat, pantaloons, and black riding-boots. This dress is worn in Act I., Scene II., and in Act II. For Act III. the boots are removed, and buckled shoes worn ; and for Act IV. full evening dress, ruffled shirt, and sword are assumed. Hastings. — Dress similar to Marlow, though plainer in both cut and color. Tony Lumpkin. — Scarlet jacket, flowered silk waistcoat, buff breeches. Stingo. — Country coat, red waistcoat, blue apron, and blue stockings. Diggory. — White country coat, flowered waistcoat, buff breeches. Mrs. Hardcastle. — First dress: Brocade sack and petticoat. Sec- ond dress : Brown stuff petticoat, with mud on it, and a small black cloak and huge green calash. Miss Hardcastle. — First dress: Smart, fashionably made brocade, elaborately trimmed with lace, and of Watteau style. Second dress : In Act II. a bonnet and lace scarf are added to this. Act HI., pretty print gown with ribbon-trimmed apron and white cap, which is worn during the balance of the play. Miss Neville. — Blue satin body, and leno petticoat trimmed with blue satin. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. ACT I. Scene I. — A chamber in an old-fashioned house, Jirst grooves. Enter Mr. Hakdca^t'lEj followed by Mrs. Hardcastle, r. i e. Mrs. H. (r.). I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very par- ticular. Is there a creature in the whole country but our- selves, that does not take a trip to town now and then to rub off the rust a little .? There's the two Miss Hoggs and our neighbor, Mrs. Grigsby, go to take a month's polish- ing every winter. Hard. (l.). Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation to last them a whole year. I wonder why London cannot keep its own fools at home. In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly among us, but nov/ they travel faster than a stage-coach. Its fopperies come down, not only as inside passengers, but in the very basket. Mrs. H. Ay, your times were fine times, indeed ; you have been telling us of them for many a long year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion that looks for all the world like an inn, but that we never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the lame dancing-master ; and all our entertainment your old stories of Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery. Hard. And I love everything that's old; old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine ; and, I believe, Dorothy {taking her hand), you'll own I have been pretty fond of an old wife. Mrs. H. Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're clever at your Dorothy's and your old wife's. You may be a Darby, but I'll be no Joan, I promise you. I'm not so old as you'd make me by more than one good year. Add twenty to twenty, and make money of that. 8 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Hard. Let me see — twenty added to twenty makes just fifty and seven. Mrs. H. It's false, Mr. Hardcastle ; I was but twenty when I had Tony by Mr. Lumpkin, my first husband ; and he's not come to years of discretion yet. Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, you have taught him finely. Mrs. H. No matter, Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his learning. I don't think a boy wants much learning to spend fifteen hundred a year. Hard. Learning, quotha ! a mere composition of tricks and mischief. Mrs. H. Humor, my dear; nothing but humor. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a little humor. Hard. I'd sooner allow him a horsepond ! If burning the footmen's shoes, frightening the maids, worrying the kittens, be humor, he has it. It was but yesterday he fas- tened my wig to the back of my chair, and when I went to make a bow, I popped my bald head into Mrs. Frizzle's face. Mrs. H. And am I to blame ? The poor boy was always too sickly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes to be a little stronger, who knows what a year or two's Latin may do for him ? Hard. Latin for him ! A cat and a fiddle ! No, no ; the alehouse and the stable are the only schools he'll ever go to. Mrs. H. Well, we must not snub the poor boy now, for I believe we sha'n't have him long among us. Anybody who looks in his face can see he's consumptive. Hard. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms. Mrs. H. He coughs sometimes. Hard. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way. Mrs. H. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. Hard. (c). And truly, so am I ; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking trumpet. (Tony, Jialloomg behind the scenes at R. I E.) Oh, there he goes — a very consumptive figure, truly ! . Enter Tony, r. i e., crossing the stage to l. i e. Mrs. H. {crosses to l. to Tony). Tony, where are you going, my charmer ? Won't you give papa and I a little of your company, lovee ? SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 9 Tony. I'm in haste, mother ; I can't stay. Mrs. H. You sha'n't venture out this raw evening, my dear. You look most shocking — Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The " Three Pigeons " expects me down every moment. There's some fun going forward. Hard. Ay ; the alehouse, the old place. I thought so. Mrs. H. a low, paltry set of fellows ! Tony. Not so low, neither. There's Dick Muggins the exciseman. Jack Slang the horse-doctor, little Aminadab that grinds the music-box, and Tom Twist that spins the pewter platter. Mrs. H. Pray, my dear, disappoint, them for one night at least Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind ; but I can't abide to disappoint myself. Mrs. H. {defaming him). You sha'n't go. Tony. I will, I tell you. Mrs. H. I say you sha'n't. Tony. We'll see which is strongest, you or I. (Mrs. H. dijtgs to the tail ^Tony's coat., and tries to keep him back ; he pulls away., draggi?ig her off with him as he shouts, " Yoiks ! Yoiks /'') Exit ivith Mrs. Hardcastle, l. i e. Hard. (c). Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil each other. But is not the whole age in a combination to drive sense and discretion out-of-doors ? There's my pretty dar- ling Kate ; the fashions of the times have almost infected her too. By living a year or two in town, she is as fond of gauze and French frippery as the best of them. Enter Miss Hardcastle, r. i e. Blessings on my pretty innocence ! Dressed out as usual, my Kate. Goodness ! what a quantity of superfluous silk hast thou got about thee, girl ! I could never teach the fools of this age that the indigent world could be clothed out of the trimmings of the vain. Miss H. You know our agreement, sir. You allow me the morning to receive and pay visits, and to dress in my own manner ; and in the evening I put on my housewife's dress to please you. lO SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Hard. Well, remember I insist on the terms of our agree- ment ; and, by-the-by, I believe I shall have occasion to try your obedience this very evening. Miss H. I protest, sir, I don't comprehend your mean- ing. Hard. (l.). Then, to be plain with you, Kate, I expect the young gentleman I have chosen to be your husband from town this very day. I have his father's letter, in which he informs me his son is set out, and that he intends to follow himself shortly after. Miss H. (r.). Indeed ! I wish I had known something of this before. Bless me, how shall I behave ? It's a thou- sand to one I sha'n't like him ; our meeting will be so for- mal and so like a thing of business, that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem. Hard. Depend upon it, child, I'll never control your choice ; but Mr. Marlow, whom I have pitched upon, is the son of my old friend. Sir Charles Marlow, of whom you have heard me talk so often. The young gentleman has been bred a scholar, and is designed for an employment in the service of his country. I am told he's a man of an excellent under- standing. Miss H. Is he ? Hard. Very generous. Miss H. I believe I shall like him. Hard. Young and brave. Miss H. I'm sure I shall like him. Hard. And very handsome. Miss H. My dear papa, say no more. {Kissing him^ He's mine, I'll have him. Hard. And to crown all, Kate, he's one of the most bashful and reserved young fellows in all the world. Miss H. Eh ! you have frozen me to death again. That word reserved has undone all the rest of his accomplish- ments. A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspi- cious husband. Hard. On the contrary, modesty seldom resides in a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues. It was the very feature in his character that first struck me. Miss H. He must have' more striking features to catch me, I promise you. However, if he be so young, so hand- some, and so everything, as you mention, I believe he'll do still. I think I'll have him. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. II Hard. Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. It's more than an even wager he may not have you. Miss H. My dear papa, why will you mortify one so ? Well, if he refuse, instead of breaking my heart at his indif- ference, I'll only break my glass for its flattery, set my cap to some newer fashion, and look out for some less difficult admirer. Hard. Bravely resolved ! In the meantime, I'll go pre- pare the servants for his reception ; as we seldom see com- pany, they want as much training as a company of recruits, the first day's muster. Exit l. i e. Miss H. (c). Lud, this news of papa's puts me all in a flutter ! Young, handsome ; these he " put last, but I put them foremost. Sensible, good-natured ; I like all that. But, then, reserved and sheepish, that's much against him. Yet can't he be cured of his timidity, by being taught to be proud of his wife? Yes, and can't I — but I vow 1 am dis- posing of the husband before I have secured the lover. • Enter Miss Neville, r. i e. I'm glad you're come, my dear. Tell me, Constance, how do I look this evening ? Is there anything whimsical about me ? Is it one of my well-looking days, child ? Am I in face to-day.? Miss N. (r.) Perfectly, my dear. Yet now I look again — bless me ! — sure no accident has happened among the canary birds or the gold fishes. Has your brother or the cat been meddling ? Or has the last novel been too moving? Miss H. (l.). No; nothing of all this. I have been threatened — I can scarce get it out — I have been threat- ened with a lover. Miss N. And his name — Miss H. Is Mario w. Miss N. Indeed. Miss H. The son of Sir Charles Marlow. Miss N. As I live, the most intimate friend of Mr. Hast- ings, my admirer. They are never asunder. I believe you mu^ have seen him when we lived in town. Miss H. Never. Miss N. He's a very singular character, I assure you. Among women of reputation and virtue he is the modestest man alive ; but his acquaintance give him a very different 12 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. character among creatures of another stamp. You under- stand me ? Miss H. An odd character, indeed. I shall never be able to manage him. What shall I do ? Pshaw ! think no more of him, but trust to occurrences for success. But how goes on your own affair, my dear 1 Has my mother been courting you for my brother Tony, as usual ? READY to change set. Miss N. I have just come from one of our agreeable tete-a-tetes . She has been saying a hundred tender things, and setting off her pretty monster as the very pink of perfection. Miss H. And her partiality is such that she actually thinks him so. A fortune like yours is no small temptation. Besides, as she has the whole management of it, I'm not surprised to see her unwilling to let it go out of the family. Miss N. A fortune like mine, which chiefly consists in jewels, is no such mighty temptation. But at any rate, if my dear Hastings be but constant, I make no doubt to be too hard for her at last. However, I let her suppose that I am in love with her son, and she never once dreams that my affections are fixed upon another. Miss H. My good brother holds out stoutly. I could almost love him for hating you so. Miss N. It is a good-natured creature at bottom, and I'm sure would wish to see me married to anybody but him- self. BELL rings off R* But my aunt's bell rings for our afternoon's walk round the improvements. Allons ! Courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical. Miss H. Would it were bedtime, and all were well ! Exeunt r. i e. CHANGE set. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Scene II. — An Alehouse Room. Landscape Drop. 13 c i- c i> 1:: rt R. G Tree, with swinging sign "Three Jolly Pigeons." / Bay Window \ Bar _, ,j^^ Tony, in high chair Slang Twist Punch Bowl, pipes and tobacco and lighted candles go Muggins o Aminadab o c. Door K L. (^As sceiie opens characters are discovered as per diagram^ — Bar- Maid behind Bar ; Pot-Boy roimd taking orders. All the characters at the table should be dressed and made-up as described by^o^Y in his first scene, — Dick Muggins as an '''• excise7nan,^^ Jack Slang as a '"''horse doctor ^^'' Amina- dab as a travelling " street bear dancer^^ Tom Twist as a street acrobat?) All (as scene opens). Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, bravo ! Slang. Now, gentlemen, silence for a song. The Squire is going to knock himself down for a song. All. Ay, a song, a song. Tony. Then I'll sing you, gentlemen, a song I made upon this alehouse, the ''Three Pigeons." SONG. — Tony. Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain, With grammar, and nonsense, and learning; Good liquor, I stoutly maintain, Gives genius a better discerning. Let them brag of their heathenish gods, Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians; Their quis, their quaes, and their quods, They're all but a parcel of pigeons. Toroddlc, toroddle, toroll. 14 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. "{An old fat'tner crosses 7vindow, and e7itcrs L. 2 E. ; sits at table l. Pot-boy runs to him., takes his order, goes to bar a?id gets pot of a/e, pipe, tobacco., and taper?) When hypocrite preachers come down A preaching that drinking is sinful, I'll wager the rascals a crown, They always preach best with a skinful. But when you come down with your pence, For a slice of such scurvy religion, I'll leave it to all men of sense, But you, my good friends, are the pigeons. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. Then come, put the jorum about. And let us be merry and clever; Our hearts and our liquors are stout, Here's the Three Jolly Pigeons forever. Let some cry up woodcock or hare, Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons; But of all the birds in the air, Here's a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons. Toroddle, toroddle, toroll. Slang. The Squire has got spunk in him. Muggins. I loves to hear him sing, bekase he never gives us nothing that's low. Aminadab. Oh, damn anything that's low ! I can't bear it Muggins. The genteel thing is the genteel thing, a'ter all. If so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation ac- cordingly. Aminadab. I like the maxim of it. Master Muggins. What though I am obligated to dance a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all that. May this be my poison if my bear ever dances but to the very genteelest of tunes, — " Water Parted from the Sea," the minuet in " Ariadne," or " Come Tickle my Nose with a Barley Straw." Slang. What a pity it is the Squire is not come to his own ! It would be well for all the publicans within ten miles round of him. Tony. Ecod, and so it would, Master Slang. I'd then show what it was to keep choice of company. Aminadab. Oh, he takes after his own father for that. To be sure, old Squire Lumpkin was the finest gentleman I ever set my eyes on. (Marlow, Hastings, and Postillion are see?i to cross behind windoiv r. to l. u. e.) For winding SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 1$ the Straight horn, or beating a thicket for a hare or a wench, he never had his fellow. It was a saying in the place, that he kept the best horses, clogs, and girls in the whole country. Tony. Ecod, and when I'm of age I'll be no recreant, I promise you. I have been thinking of Bet Bouncer and the miller's gray mare to begin with. But come, my boys, drink a bout and be merry, for you pay no reckoning. Enter Stingo, the Lajidlof-d., l. 2 e. Well, Stingo, what's the matter ? Stingo. There be two gentlemen in a post-chaise at the door. They have lost their way upo' the forest, and they are talking something about Mr. Hardcastk. Tony. As sure as can be, one of them must be the gentle- man that's coming down to court my sister. Then desire them to step this way, and I'll set them right in a twinkling. Exit Stingo, l. 2 e. Gentlemen, as they mayn't be good enough company for you, keep your seats for a moment, and I'll be with you in the squeezing of a lemon. [Co7?ii?ig down v.. c.) Father-in-law has been calling me whelp and hound this half year. Now, if I pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old grumble- tonian. But then I'm afraid — afraid of what ? I shall soon be worth fifteen hundred a year, and let him frighten me out of that i.f he can. Enter l. 2 e., Stingo, followed by Marlow, Hastings, and Postillion. Stingo crosses to Tony at r., a?id enters into conversation with hijn. Postillion goes up to bar and gets a fnug of beer ^ and stands chaffing with Barmaid during following scene. Mar. (c.). What a tedious, uncomfortable day have we had of it ! We were told it was but forty miles across the country, and we have come about threescore. Hast. (l.). And all, Marlow, from that unaccountable reserve of yours, that would not let us inquire more fre- quently on the way. Mar. I own, Hastings, I am unwilling to lay myself under an obligation to every one I meet ; and often stand the chance of an unmannerly answer. Hast. At present, however, we are not likely to receive any answer. {By his gaze directing Marlow's attention to 1 6 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Tony, 7vho stands r., bitiiig the end of his pipe-ste7n. During the entire scene folloiving, the men at table take a lively interest.) Tony (r., with his pipe in his ha7id). No offence, gentle- men. But I'm told you have been inquiring for one, Mr. Hardcastle, in these parts. Do you know what part of the country you are in ? Hast. Not in the least, sir, but should thank you for information. Tony. Nor the way you came ? Hast. No, sir; but if you can inform us — Tony. Why, gentlemen, if you know neither the road you are going, nor where you are, nor the road you came, the first thing I have to inform you is, that {pauses afid blows out a long cloud of smoke) — you have lost your way. Mar. We wanted no information of that, sir. Tony. Pray, gentlemen, may I be so bold as to ask the place from whence you came ? Mar. {crosses to R.). That's not necessary towards direct- ing us where we are to go. Tony {moves to c). No offence ; but question for question is all fair, you know. Pray, gentlemen, is not this same Hjajdcastle a cross-grained, old-fashioned, whimsical fellow, with an ugly face, a daughter, and a pretty son ? Hast. We have not seen the gentleman, but he has the family you mention. Tony. The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trolloping, talka- tive maypole ; the son, a pretty, well-bred, agreeable youth, that everybody is fond of? Mar. Our information differs in this. The daughter is said to be well-bred and beautiful ; the son, an awkward booby, reared up and spoiled at his mother's apron string. Tony. He-he-hem ! Then, gentlemen, all I have to tell you is, that you won't reach Mr. Hardcastle's house this night, I believe. Hast. Unfortunate ! Tony. It's a damned long, dark, boggy, dirty, dangerous way. Stingo, tell the gentlemen the way to Mr. Hardcastle's. ( Winking at Stingo. ) Mr. Hardcastle's, of Quagmire Marsh, you know. Stingo (r. c.). Master Hardcastle's ! Lack-a-daisy, my masters, you're come a deadly deal wrong ! When you came to the bottom of the hill, you should have crossed down Squash-lane. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 1 7 Mar. Cross down Squash-lane ! Stingo. Then you were to keep straight forward, till you came to where four roads meet ! Mar. Come to where four roads meet ! Tony. Ay ; but you must be sure to take only one of them. Hast. Oh ! Tony. At a time. Mar. Oh, sir, you're facetious. Tony. Then keeping to the right, you are to go sideways till you come upon CrackskuU Common; there you must look sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward till you come to Farmer Murrain's barn. Coming to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right about again, till you find out the old mill — Mar. Zounds, man ! we could as soon find out the longi- tude ! Hast. What's to be done, Marlow ? Mar. This house promises but a poor reception ; though perhaps the landlord can accommodate us. Stingo. Alack, master, we have but one spare bed in the whole house — Tony {hastily interrupting). And to my knowledge that's taken up by three lodgers already, besides the man in the parlor w^aiting for a chance. {After a pause., in which the rest seem disconcerted?) I have hit it. Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady could accommodate the gentlemen ? Stingo {indignantly). What ? Tony. Oh, I don't mean that, you fool. I mean by the fireside, with — three chairs and a bolster ? Hast. Damn ^^owx fireside ! Mar. And damn your three chairs and a bolster, say I. {C7'osses to c) Tony {crosses down r. ; to Stingo). You do, do you ? Then let me see — what if you go on a mile farther to the Buck's Head — the old Buck's Head on the hill — one of the best inns in the whole county .'* Hast. Oh, ho ! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however. Stingo {aside to Tony). Sure, you ben't sending them to your father's as an inn, be you ? Tony. Mum, you fool, you ! Let them find that out 1 8 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. {To them^ You have only to keep on straight forward, till you come to a large old house by the roadside. You'll see a pair of large horns over the door. That's the sign. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you. Hast. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the way "i Tony. No, no. But I tell you, though — the landlord is rich and going to leave off business ; so he wants to be thought a gentleman, saving your presence, he, he, he ! He'll be for giving you his company, and, ecod ! if you mind him, he'll persuade you that his mother was an alderman, and his aunt a justice of peace. WARN curtain* Stingo. A troublesome old blade, to be sure ; but he keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole county. Mar. Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no further connection. {Going towards door l. 2 e.) We are to turn to the right, did you say ? Tony. No, no ; straight forward. Exit Marlow, followed by Hastings a?id Postillion, l. 2 e. I'll just step myself, and show you a piece of the way. {To Stingo.) Mum ! {Bursts of laughter at table imtil curtain is dowJt as Tony exit l. 2 e.) RING curtain* Stingo. Ah, bless your heart, for a sweet, pleasant — damned, mischievous son of — no matter. QUICK CURTAIN. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 19 ACT II. Scene. — A room in Hardcastle's house^ fourth grooves. 5 Hallway Backing. 5 C. door Sideboard, covered with silver. O © o Chair \ Arm chair \ Chair Chair Chair Chair Door L. 2 Chair MOONLIGHT on deep win- dow at right when cur- tain rises^ LIGHTED candles ready, L^ U* £♦ Gate-bell ready- to ringft L*U*EL Punch tankard and bill of fare ready, L« 2 £♦ As curtaift rises enter Hardcastle at c. /; Hard. Entirely. By-the-by, I believe they are in actual consultation upon what's for supper this moment in the kitchen. Mar. Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their privy council. It's a way I have got. When I travel I always choose to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence, I hope, sir ? Hard. Oh, no, sir, none in the least — yet I don't know now ; our Bridget, the cook-maid, is not very communicative upon these occasions. Should we send for her, she might scold us all out of the house. Hast. (l.). Let's see the list of the larder, then. I ask it as a favor. I always match my appetite to my bill of fare. Mar. (to Hardcastle, 7e.'ho looks at them with surprise). Sir, he's very right, and it's my way too. Hard. Sir, you have a right to command here. (Calli/ig.) 28 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Here, Diggor\% send us the bill of fare for to-night's supper. I believe it's drawn out. Your manner, Mr. Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel Gunthorp. It was a say- ing of his, that no man was sure of his supper till he had eaten it. Enter Diggory, with bill of fare ^ l. 2 e. Dig. {aside to Hardcastle). Did you tell about Old Grouse ? Hard. No, no. {Taking bill of fare.) Dig. Tell 'em. Exit L. 2 E. Hast, {aside). All upon the high ropes ! His uncle a colonel — we shall soon hear of his mother being a justice of the peace. But let's hear the bill of fare. (Hardcastle is about to read hill of fare. Mar- low gejitly takes it from his ha?id.) Mar. {q.., perusing). What's here ? For the first course, for the second course, for the dessert. The devil ! sir, do you think we have brought down the whole Joiner's company, or the corporation of Bedford t Two or three little things, clean and comfortable, will do. Hast. But let's hear it. Mar. {reading). "For the first course at the top, a pig's face and prune sauce. " Hast. Damn your pig, I say. Mar. Damn your prune sauce, say I. Hard, (r., aside). And damn your delicate stomachs, say I. {Aloud.) And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry, pig with prune sauce is very good eating. Mar. {reading). "Item; a calf's head and brains." Hast. Oh, knock out your brains ; I don't like 'em. Mar. Let them be buttered and laid on a plate by them- selves. Hard, {aside). If your brains were knocked out, a very small plate would hold them.. {Aloud.) But, gentlemen, you are my guests ; make what alterations you please. Is there anything else you wish to retrench or alter, gentle- men ? Mar. {reading). "Item; a pork pie and boiled rabbit and sausages, a florentine, a shaking pudding, and a dish of tif- taf-ferty cream." SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 29 Hast. Confound your made dishes. I'm for plain eating. Hard. I'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you h'ke ; but if there be anything you have a particular fancy to — Mar. Why, really, sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite that any one part of it is full as good as another. Send us what you please. So much for supper. And now to see that our beds are aired, and luggage properly taken care of. Hard. I entreat you'll leave all that to me. You shall not stir a step. Mar. Leave that to you ! I protest, sir, you must excuse me, I always look to these things myself. Hard. I must insist, sir, you'll make yourself easy on that head. {Gomg towa?'d r. 2 e. to give orders.) Mar. (juith a passionate outburst of voice). ^ You see I'lii resolved on it. (Aside, pushing Hardcastle out of his way and crossing to r. 2 E.) A very troublesome fellow this, as ever I met with. Exit R. 2 E. Hard, (aside). This may be modern modesty, but damn me if I ever saw anything look so like old-fashioned im- pudence. Exit R. 2 E. Hast. (c). So, I find this fellow's civilities begin to grow troublesome. But who can be angry at those assiduities which are meant to please him .? (Looks off' l.) Ha ! what do I see t Miss Neville, by all that's happy ! Enter Miss Neville, l. 2 e. Miss N. My dear Hastings ! To what unexpected good fortune, to what accident am I to ascribe this happy meeting .'* Hast. Let me ask the same question, as I could never have hoped to meet my dearest Constance at an inn. Miss N. (l. c). An inn ! You mistake ; my aunt, my guardian, lives here. What could induce you to think this house an inn ? Hast. (r. c). My friend, Mr. Marlow, with whom I came down, and I, have been sent here as to an inn, I assure you. A young fellow, whom we accidentally met at a house hard by, directed us hither. Miss N. Certainly it must be one of my hopeful cousin's 30 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. tricks, of whom you have heard me talk so often. Ha ! ha ! ha! ha! Hast. He whom your aunt intends for you ? He of whom I have such just apprehensions 1 Miss N. You have nothing to fear from him, I assure you. You'd adore him if you knew how heartily he de- spises me. My aunt knows it too, and has undertaken to court me for him, and actually begins to think she has made a conquest.- Hast. You must know, my Constance, I have just seized this happy opportunity of my friend's visit here, to get admittance into the family. The horses that carried us down are now fatigued with the journey, but they'll soon be refreshed ; and then, if my dearest girl will trust to her faithful Hastings, we shall soon be out of their power. Miss N. I have often told you that, though ready to obey you, I yet should leave my little fortune behind with reluctance. The greatest part of it was left me by my uncle, the India director, and chiefly consists in jewels. I have been for some time persuading my aunt to let me wear them. I fancy I'm very near succeeding. The instant they are put into my possession you shall find me ready to make them and myself yours. Hast. Perish the baubles ! Your person is all I desire. In the meantime, my friend Marlow must not be let into his mistake. I know the strange reserve of his temper is such, that if abruptly informed of it, he would instantly quit the house before our plan was ripe for execution. Miss N. But how shall we keep him in the deception ? Miss Hardcastle is just returned from walking ; what if we persuade him she has come to this house as to an inn t Come this way. {They confer up stage.) Enter Marlow, r. 2 e. Mar. (c). The assiduities of these good people tease me beyond bearing. My host seems to think it ill manners to leave me alone, and so he claps not only himself but his old- fashioned wife on my back. They talk of coming to sup with us too ; and then, I suppose, we are to run the gauntlet through all the rest of the family. {He turns and sees Miss Neville y^r the first ti7ne. He becomes so nervous and bashful that he quite loses his head., and attempts to go off at r. 2 E., but Hastings dashes after him arid pulls hint back by the coat-tail^ SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 3 1 and dH7'ing the entire see tie that follows he never once looks Miss Neville /// the face?} What have we got here ? Hast. My dear Charles ! Let me congratulate 3'ou — the most fortunate accident ! Whom do you think is just alighted ? Mar. (r.). Cannot guess. Hast. (c). Our mistresses, boy; Miss Hardcastle and Miss Neville. Give me leave to introduce Miss Constance Neville to your acquaintance. (Miss Neville comes down l.) Happening to dine in the neighborhood, they called on their return to take fresh horses here. Miss Hardcastle has just stepped into the next room, and will be back in an instant. Wasn't it lucky, eh ? Mar. (aside). I have just been ^Tlortified enough of all conscience, and here comes something to complete my em- barrassment. Hast. Well, but wasn't it the most fortunate thing in the world .? Mar. Oh, yes, very fortunate — a most joyful encounter ! But our dresses, George, you know, are in disorder. What if we should postpone the happiness till to-morrow.? To- morrow at her own house ? It will be every bit as con- venient, and rather more respectful. To-morrow let it be. (Offering to go, but is stopped by Hastings, who gets between him a7id the door., r. 2 e.) Miss N. By no means, sir. Your ceremony will displease her. The disorder of your dress will show the ardor of your impatience. Besides, she knows you are in the house, and will permit you to see her. Mar. (aside., c). Oh, the devil she will ! How shall I sup- port it .'' Hem ! hem ! Hastings, you must not go. You are to assist me, you know. I shall be confoundedly ridiculous. Hast. (r. c). PshaM^, man ! it's but the first plunge, and all's over. She's but a woman, you know. Mar. And of all women, she that I most dread to en- counter. (Down R.) Enter Miss Hardcastle, Q.from l., as returning from walk- ing., with a bo7u/et, etc. Business of Hastings greet i7ig Miss Hardcastle. Hast. (introduci7ig him). Miss Hardcastle, Mr. Marlow. I'm proud of bringing two persons of such merit together, 32 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. that only want to know, to esteem each other. {Dojuni r. to Marlow, leaving his hat upo?i the table. ) Miss H. {iiside^ at c. ; Miss Neville at l. of her). Now for meeting my modest gentleman, {After a pause, in which Jie appears very uneasy and disconcerted ; aloud.) I'm glad of your safe arrival, sir. I'm told you had some accidents by the way. Mar. (r. c). Only a few, madam. Yes, we had some. Yes, madam, a good many accidents, but should be sorry, madam — or rather, glad of any accidents — that are so agreeably concluded. Hem ! Hast, (r., to Marlow). You never spoke better in your whole life. Keep it up, and I'll insure you the victory. Miss H. I'm afraid you flatter, sir. You that have seen so much of the finest company can find little entertainment in an obscure corner of the country. Mar. {gather i fig courage). I have lived — Hast, {interrupting). Ahem ! Mar. Well, George, I hai-e lived in the world, but I have kept little company. I have been an observer upon life, madam, while others were enjoying it. Hast, {aside to Marlow). Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance forever. Mar. {aside to Hastings). Hem ! Stand by me then, and when I'm down, throw in a word or two to set me up again. Miss H. An observer, like you, upon life were, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure than to approve. Mar. Pardon me, madam, I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an object of mirth than uneasiness. Hast, {aside to Marlow). Bravo, bravo ! Never spoke so well in your whole life. {Aloud.) Well, Miss Hardcastle, I see that you and Mr. Marlow are going to be very good com- pany. I believe our being here will but embarrass the inter- view. (Miss Neville steps across behind Miss Hardcas- tle, afid crosses down stage betu'een Marlow and Hastings ; a7id during the following speech Marlow, reaching behind him plucks 7iervously at her gown as he stares at the ground, tlwik- ing she is Hastings.) SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 33 Mar. Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your company of all things. {Aside to Hastings.) Damn it, George ! {Looks up at this word, discovers his mistake, and is completely dumfotuided ; he turns round, Iwzvs aiid stanuners ill his confusion, while Hastings takes Miss Neville on his ar7n and makes a hasty ^"^lyX, with her at r. 2 E. Aside.) What the devil shall I do ? {Aiotcd.) Will you please be seated, madam? {Brings a chair dow7i and sits ; pauses, sees Miss Hardcastle still standing, rises, puts his hat on a chair, while he bri7igs another down for her. They both sit ; Marlow, r., Miss Hardcastle, l. During the following scene Marlow draws his chair away little by little towards the r. Miss Hard- castle moves her chair every time Marlow moves his until he gets to r. wing. When he cajinot move any faj'ther, he looks stupidly at Miss Hardcastle and then at the wing.) I say, ma'am — Miss H. Sir! Mar. I am afraid, ma'am, I am not so happy as to make myself agreeable to the ladies — {Moves his chair to r.) Miss H. The ladies, I should hope, have employed some part of your addresses. {Moves after hitn.) Mar. {relapsing into timidity). Pardon me, madam, I — I — I — as yet have studied — only — to — deserve them. {Moves to r, again.) Miss H. And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them. {Moves after hi7n.) Mar. Perhaps so, madam. But I love to converse only with the more grave and sensible part of the sex — But I'm afraid I grow tiresome. {Moves r. again.) Miss H. Not at all, sir; there is nothing I like so much as grave conversation myself ; I could hear it forever. In- deed, I have often been surprised how a man of sentiment could ever admire those light, airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart. {Moves after hi7n.) Mar. It's — a disease — of the mind, madam. In the variety of tastes there must be some who, wanting a relish — • for — um — a — um. {Moves r.) Miss H. . I understand you, sir. There must be some who, wanting a relish for refined pleasure, pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting. {Moves r.) Mar. My meaning, madam, but infinitely better ex- pressed. And I can't help observing — a — (Moves r.) Miss H. {aside). Who could ever suppose this gentleman 34 -S-//^ STOOPS 7V CONQUER. impudent upon some occasions ! {To Marlow.; You were going to observe, sir. {Moves r.) Mar. I was observing, madam — I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe. {Moves r.) Miss H. {aside). I vow and so do I. {To jMarlow.) You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy — something about hypocrisy, sir. Mar. Yes, madam, in this age of hypocrisy there are few who upon strict inquiry do not — a — a — a — Miss H. I understand you perfectly, sir. Mar. {aside). Egad! and that's more than I do myself. Miss H. You mean that in this hypocritical age there are few who do not condemn in public what they practice in private, and think they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it. Mar. True, madam ; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms — breasts, no, no, hearts. But I'm sure I tire you, madam. {Is confused to find Jiivisclf against tJie wall.) Miss H. Not in the least, sir ; there's something so agreeable and spirited in your manner, such life and force — pray, sir, go on. {Endeavors not to laugh i?i his face.) Mar. Yes, madam, I was saying — But I see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world. {Rising^ putting his chair behind him i7i such a 7uay as to block her exit; picks up Hastings's hat^ which has been left OJi table?) Miss H. {rising and going Q,.). I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably entertained in all my life. Mar. (r. c, looking of^^.). But she beckons us to join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honor to attend you .? {Bowiiig repeatedly., his hat held before him., he k?iocks Miss Hardcastle's fan out of her hand. Stoops to pick it up and gives her his hat i?istead, pocketing the fan ; still simpering aJid boivifig., he stumbles over the chair., a7id finally offers his ar7n to take her off. She puts a piece of her lace scarf on it. He simpers and tiods over it as if she we?'e leaning on him, and exit quickly R. 2 E.) Miss H. (r. c, looking after him). Well, then, I'll follow. Ha! ha! ha! ha! Was there ever such a sober, sentimental interview ! I'm certain he scarce looked in my face the whole time. Yet the fellow, but for his unaccountable bashfulness, is pretty well too. He has good sense, but then so buried in his fears, that it fatigues one more than ignorance. If I SHE STOOPS TO COA'QUER. 35 could teach him a little confidence, it would be doing some- body that I know of a piece of service. But who is that somebody ? — that, faith, is a question 1 can scarce answer. Exit R. 2 E. Enter Tony a7id Miss Neville, z.froui r. Tony {coming down c). What do you follow me for. Cousin Con t I wonder you're not ashamed to be so very engaging. Miss N. {following on l.). I hope, cousin, one may speak to one's own relations, and not be to blame. Tony. Ay, but I want to know what sort of a relation you want to make me, though; but it won't do. I tell you, cousin Con, it won't do, so I beg you'll keep your distance; I want no nearer relationship. {He takes an apple frof?i his pocket and is about to bite it, wJie7i Miss Neville snatcJies it and exit qtcickly, followed by Tony, c. to r.) Enter Mrs. Hardcastle and Hastings, r. 2 e. Mrs. H. Well, I vow, Mr. Hastings, you're very enter- taining. There is nothing in the world I love to talk of so much as London and the fashions, though I was never there myself. Hast. (r.). Never there ! You amaze me ! From your air and manner, I concluded you had been bred all your life either at Ranelagh, St. James's {aside), or Tower Wharf. Mrs. H. (c). O sir, you're only pleased to say so. We country persons can have no manner at all. I'm in love with the town, and that serves to raise me above some of our neighboring rustics; but who can have a manner that has never seen the Pantheon, the Grotto Gardens, the Borough, and such places where the nobility chiefly resort .? All 1 can do is to enjoy London at second-hand. T take care to know every tetc-a-tete from the Scandalous Magazine, and have all the fashions, as they*come out, in a letter from the two Miss Rickets of Crooked-lane. Pray how do you like this head, Mr. Hastings ? Hast. Extremely elegant and de'gagee, upon my word, madam. Your friseur is a Frenchman, I suppose? Mrs. H. I protest I dressed it myself from a print in the ladies' memorandum book for the last year. 36 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Hast. Indeed ! Such a head in a side-box at the play house would draw as many gazers as my Lady Mayoress at a city ball. Mrs. H. I vow, since inoculation began, there is no such thing to be seen as a plain woman ; so one must dress a little particular, or one may escape in a crowd. Hast. Intolerable ! At your age you may wear what you please, and it must become you. Mrs. H. , Pray, Mr. Hastings, what do you take to be the most fashionable age a^ut town ? Hast. Some time ago forty was all the mode; but I'm told the ladies intend to bring up fifty for the ensuing winter. Mrs. H. Seriously ? Then I shall be too young for the fashion. Re-enter Tony mid Miss Neville, c. //w;^ r. She follows him dowji L., hectoring him. Hast. No lady begins to put on jewels now till she's past forty. For instance, Miss there, in a polite circle, would be considered as a child, a mere maker of samplers. Mrs. H. And yet my niece thinks herself as much a woman, and is as fond of jewels, as the oldest of us all. Hast. Your niece, is she ? And that young gentleman, a brother of yours, I should presume } Mrs. H. My son, sir. They are contracted to each other. Observe their little sports. They quarrel and make it up again ten times a day, as if they were man and wife already. {To thc??i.) Well, Tony, child, what soft things are you saying to your Cousin Constance this evening ? Tony (l.). I have been saying no soft things ; but that it's very hard to be followed about so. Ecod, I've not a place in the house now that's left to myself but the stable. Mrs. H. (r. c). Never mind him. Con, my dear. He's in another story behind your back. Miss N. (l. c). There's something generous in my cousin's manner. He falls out before faces to be forgiven in private. Tony. That's a damned, confounded — crack. Mrs. H. Don't you think they are like each other about the mouth, Mr. Hastings ? Hast. Very like. Mrs. H. The Blenkinsop mouth to a T. They're of a SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 37 size too. Back to back, my pritties, that Mr. Hastings may see you. (Miss Neville comes dowji^pidling ^o^y forward.) Tony. You had as good not make me, I can tell you. (Mrs. Hardcastle pulls Tony toward Miss Neville, aJid makes them stand back to back to be measured. He knocks his head roughly against Miss Neville's. She screams and crosses to r., rubbing her head?) Mrs. H. (l. c). For shame, Tony ! You a man, and be- have so ! Tony (c). If I'm a man, let me have my fortin. Ecod ! I'll not be made a fool of any longer. Mrs. H. Is this, ungrateful boy, all that I'm to get for the pains I've taken in your education ? Didn't I rock you in a cradle .'' Tony. Well, you wouldn't rock me in a coal scuttle, would you ? Mrs. H. Didn't I feed that pretty mouth with a spoon .'' Tony. Well, you didn't want to feed it with a fire shovel, did you t Mrs. H. Didn't I work that waistcoat and those ruffles to make you look genteel ? Tony \rubbing his larist across his mouth and grimacing). Well, ain't I genteel ? Ecod ! I tell you I'll not be made a fool of any longer. Mrs. H. Wasn't it all for your good, viper t Wasn't it all for your good ? Tony. I wish you'd let me and my good alone, then. Snubbing this way, when I'm in spirits. If I'm to have any good, let it come of itself ; not to keep dingling it, dingling it into one so. Mrs. H. That's false ; I never see you when you're in spirits. No, Tony, you then go to the alehouse or kennel. I'm never to be delighted with your agreeable, wild notes, unfeeling monster ! Tony. Ecod ! mamma, your own notes are the wildest of the two. {Leaps astride chair at l., and I'ides as if racings snapping his whip over the back of the chair as if at an imaginary horse.) Mrs. H. W^as ever the like ! But I see he wants to 38 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. break my heart; I see he does. {She cries, and Tony mimics he?-.) Hast, {to c). Dear madam, permit me to lecture the young gentleman a little. I'm certain 1 can persuade him to his duty. Mrs. H. (r. c). Well ! I must retire. Come, Constance, my love. You see, Mr. Hastings, the wretchedness of my sit- uation ; was ever poor woman so plagued with a dear, sweet, pretty (Tony ?7iakes ill-natured faces and langhs nastily at her)., provoking, undutiful boy ! Exit, R. 2 Y.., followed by Miss Neville, who has been watch- ing the scene with an amused but demure face. Tony {singing). *' There was a young man riding by, And iain would have his will. Twang-to-dillo-dell " — Don't mind her; let her cry. It's the comfort of her heart. I have seen her and sister cry over a book for an hour together, and they said they liked the book the more it made them cry. Hast. (c). Then you're no friend to the ladies, I find, my pretty young gentleman ? Tony. That's as I find 'um. Hast. Not to her of your mother's choosing, I dare answer? And yet she appears to be a pretty, well-tempered girl. Tony. That's because you don't know her as well as I. Ecod ! I know every inch about her ; and there's not a more cantankerous toad in all Christendom. Hast, {aside). Pretty encouragement this for a lover! Tony. I have seen her since the height of that. She has as many tricks as a hare in a thicket, or a colt the first day's breaking. Hast. To me she appears sensible and silent. Tony. Ay, before company. But when she's with her playmates she's as loud as a hog in a gate. Hast. Well, but you must allow her a little beauty. Yes, you nmst allow her some beauty. Tony. Bandbox! She's all a made-up thing, mun. Ah! could you but see Bet Bouncer of these parts, you might then talk of beauty. Ecod ! she has two eyes as black as sloes. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 39 and cheeks as broad and red as a pulpit cushion. She would make two of she. Hast. Well, what say you to a friend that would take this bitter bargain off your hands 1 Tony. Anon 1 Hast. Would you thank him, that would take Miss Nev- ille, and leave you to happiness and your dear Betsey.? WARN curtain* Tony. Ay ; but where is there such a friend, for who would take her "i Hast. I am he. If you but assist me, I'll engage to whip her off to France, and you shall never hear more of her. Tony. Assist you ? {Leaps off the chair ^ and meets Hast- ings at c.) Ecod, I will to the last drop of my blood. I'll clap a pair of horses to your chaise, that shall trundle you off in a twinkling, and may be get you part of her fortin beside, in jewels, that you little dream of. Hast. My dear squire, this looks like a lad of spirit. Tony. Come along, then, and you shall see more of my spirit before you have done with me. RING curtain. Exeunt, aj-in in arm, l. 2 e. ; Tony singing, " We are the boys That fear no noise When the thundering cannon roars" — QUICK CURTAIN. 40 SHE STOOPS TO COXQUER. ACT III. Scene. — The same roo7n in Hardcastle's house. READY a jewel casket, piece of stringf and cup and ball, at R» U» K Bunch of keys at L. 2 E* Enter Hardcastle, r. 2 e. Hard. (c). What could my old friend, Sir Charles, mean by recommending his son as the modestest young man in town ? To me he appears the most impudent piece of brass that ever spoke with a tongue. He has taken possession of the easy-chair by the fireside already. He took off his boots in the parlor, and desired me to see them taken care of. I'm desirous to know how his impudence affects my daughter. She will certainly be shocked at it. Enter Miss Hardcastle, plainly dressed^ l. 2 e. Well, my Kate, I see you have changed your dress as I bid you ; and yet, I believe, there was no great occasion. Miss H. (l. c). I find such a pleasure, sir, in obeying your commands, that I take care to observe them without ever debating their propriety. Hard. And yet, Kate, I sometimes give you some cause, particularly when I recommended my modest gentleman to you as a lover to-day. Miss H. You taught me to expect something extraordi- narv, and I find the original exceeds the description. Hard. I was never so surprised in all my life ! He has quite confounded all my faculties ! Miss H. I never saw anything like it ; and a man of the world too ? Hard. Ay, he learned it all abroad. What a fool was I, to think a young man could learn modesty by travelling. He might as soon learn wit at a masquerade. Miss H. It seems all natural to him. Hard. A good deal assisted by bad company and a French dancing-master. Miss H. Sure you mistake, papa! A French dancing- SHE STOOPS TO COXQUER. . 4 1 master could never have taught him that timid look — that awkward address — that bashful manner — Hard. Whose look ? Whose manner, child ? Miss H. Mr. Marlow's. His jfiaiivaise honte, his timidity, struck me at the hrst sight. Hard. Then your first sight deceived you ; for I think him one of the most brazen first sights that ever astonished my senses. Miss H. Sure, sir, you rally? I never saw any one so modest. Hard. And can you be serious "^ I never saw such a bouncing, swaggering puppy since 1 was born. Bully Daw- son was but a fool to him. Miss H. Surprising ! He met ra« with a respectful bow, a stammering voice, and a look fixed on the ground. Hard. He met me w^ith a loud voice, a lordly air, and a familiarity that froze me to death. Miss H. He treated me wdth diffidence and respect; cen- sured the manners of the age ; admired the prudence of the girl that never laughed ; tired me with apologies for being tiresome ; then left the room with a bow, and, '' Madam, I would not detain you." {Mwikki?ig Marlow.) Hard. He spoke to me as if he knew me all his life before. Asked twenty questions, and never waited for an answer. Interrupted my best remarks with some silly pun, and when I was talking of the Duke of Marlborough and my friend Brooks, he asked if I was not a good hand at making punch. Yes, Kate, he asked your father if he was not a maker of punch ! Miss H. One of us must certainly be mistaken. Hard. In one thing, however, we are agreed — to reject him. Miss H. Yes. But upon conditions. For if you should find him less impudent, and I more presuming ; if you find him more respectful, and I more importunate — I don't know — the man is well enough for a man — certainly he has a very passable complexion. Hard. If we should find him so — but that's impossible. The first appearance has done my business ; I'm seldom de- ceived in that. Miss H. Then as one of us must be mistaken, what if we go to make further discoveries ? Hard. Agreed. Pjut, depend on't, I'm in the right. 42 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Miss H. And depend on't I'm not much in the wrong. Exeunt Miss Hardcastle at l. 2 e., and Hardcastle at r. 2 E., each shaking a finger at the other as they go out. Enter Tony, mnning in 7vith a casket^ c. fro7n r. Tony. Ecod ! I have got them. Here they are. My cousin Con's necklaces, bobs and all. My mother sha'n't cheat the poor souls out of their fortin neither. {Takes tivo or three halfpence out of his pocket a?td begins tossing and catch- ing them.) Enter Hastings, l. 2 e. Oh, my genus, is that you ? Hast. (l. c). My dear friend, how have you managed with your mother.-* I hope you have amused her with pre- tending love for your cousin, and that you are willing to be reconciled at last ; we shall be ready to set off in a short time. Tony (r.). And here's something to bear your charges by the way. (Giving the casket.) Your sweetheart's jewels. Keep them, and hang those, I say, that would rob you of one of them, {lakes string from his pocket and plays at cat^ s-cradk.) Hast. But how have you procured them from your mother ? Tony. Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs. I procured them by the rule of thumb. If I had not a key to every drawer in mother's bureau, how could I go to the ale- house so often as I do ? An honest man may rob himself of his own at any time. Hast. Thousands do it every day. But, to be plain with you. Miss Neville is endeavoring to procure them from her aunt this very instant. If she succeeds, it will be the most delicate way at least of obtaining them. {During the following speeches Tony is always oc- cupied with business. He tips tivo chairs down in front of table .,^..1 and attaches his cat^s-cra- dle string to them for reins. Then draws the lighted candles^ one on one corner and the other on opposite corner of the table, to serve as coach laf?ips.) Tony. Well, keep them, till you know how it will be. SHE STOOPS TO COXQUER. 43 But I know how it will be well enough, she'd as soon part with the only sound tooth in her head. Hast. But I dread the effects of her resentment, when she finds she has lost them. Tony. Never you mind her resentment ; leave me to manage that. I don't value her resentment the bounce of a cracker. Zounds ! here they are. {Leaps on table betiveen candles and pretends to drive at a great pace.) Morrice ! Prance ! Exit Hastings, l. 2 e. Enter Mrs. Hardcastle a7id Miss Neville, r. 2 e. As they come on., ^o^y jumps from table., and pulli/ig cup and ball out of his pocket, begins to play up c. Mrs. H. {down r.). Indeed, Constance, you amaze me ; such a girl as you want jewels ! It will be time enough for jewels, my dear, these twenty years hence, when your beauty begins to want repairs. Miss N. {at f replace, l.). But what will repair beauty at forty, will certainly improve it at twenty, madam. Mrs. H. Yours, my dear, can admit of none. That nat- ural blush is beyond a thousand ornaments. Besides, child, jewels are quite out at present. Don't you see half the ladies of our acquaintance, my Lady Kill-day-light, and Mrs. Crump, and the rest of them, carry their jewels to town, and bring nothing but paste and marcasites back t Miss N. But who knows, madam, but somebody that shall be nameless would like me best with all my little finery about me "^ Mrs. H. Consult your glass, my dear, and then see if, with such a pair of eyes, you want any better sparklers. What do you think, Tony, my dear. {At this momejit Tony strikes himself on the nose ivith his ball. Business of rubbing it, a7id holding on to it-.) Does your cousin Con want any jewels in your eyes, to set off her beauty.? Tony (r. c). That's as hereafter may be. Miss N. My dear aunt, if you knew how it would oblige me — Mrs. H. a parcel of old fashioned rose and table cut things. They would make you look like the court of King Solomon at a puppet-show. Besides, I believe i can't read- ily come at them. They may be missing for aught I know to the contrary. 44 -S-//^ STOOPS TO CONQUER. Tony {aside to Mrs. Hardcastle). Then why don't you tell her so at once, as she's so longing for them? Tell her they're lost. It's the only way to quiet her. Say they are lost, and call me to bear witness. Mrs. H. {aside to Tony). You know, my dear, I'm only keeping them for you. So, if I say they're gone, you'll bear me witness, will you .'' He ! he ! he ! Tony. Never fear me. Ecod ! I'll say I saw them taken out with my own eyes. Miss N. I desire them but for a day, madam. Just to be permitted to show them as relics, and then they may be locked up again. Mrs. H. To be plain with you, my dear Constance, if I could find them, you should have them. They're missing, I assure you. Lost, for aught I know. But we must have patience wherever they are. Miss N. I'll not believe it : this is but a shallow pretence to deny me. I know they're too valuable to be so slightly kept, and as you are to answer for the loss — Mrs. H. Don't be alarmed, Constance. If they be lost, I must restore an equivalent. But my son knows they're missing and not to be found. Tony. That I can bear witness to. They are missing, and not to be found, I'll take my oath on't. Besides, what's the odds ? Mother's got to give the equil-phant. Mrs. H. You must learn resignation, my dear ; for though we lose our fortune, yet we should not lose our patience. See me, how calm I am. Tony. Yes, see how calm I am. Miss N. Ay, people are generally calm at the misfortunes of others. Mrs. H. Now, I wonder a girl of your good sense should waste a thought upon such trumpery. We shall soon find them, and in the meantime you shall make use of my garnets till your jewels be found. Miss N. I detest garnets. Mrs. H. The most becoming things in the world to set off a clear complexion. You have often seen how well they looked upon me. You shall have them. Exit r. 2 E. Miss N. I dislike them of all thino:s. You sha'n't stir. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 45 Was ever anything so provoking — to mislay my own jewels, and force me to wear trumpery ! Tony (c). Don't be a fool. If she gives you the garnets, take what you can get. The jewels are your own already. I have stolen them out of her bureau, and she does not know- it. Fly to your spark, he'll tell you more of the matter. Leave me to manage her. Miss N. {comes down to l. of Tony /;/ surprise). My dear cousin ! (Mrs. Hardcastle screajjis r. 2 e.) Tony. Vanish. She's here, and has missed them already. Zounds! how she fidgets and spits about like a Catharine wheel. Exit Miss Neville, l. 2 e. Enter Mrs. Hardcastle, r. 2 e. Mrs. H. Confusion ! thieves ! robbers ! We are cheated, plundered, broke open, undone. (At c, 7vriiiging ker kcvids.) Tony (r.). What's the matter, what's the matter, mamma ? I hope nothing has happened to any of the good family.? Mrs. H. We are robbed. My bureau has been broke open, the jewels taken out, and I'm undone. Tony. Oh ! is that all ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! By the laws, I never saw it better acted in my life. Ecod, I thought you was ruined in earnest, ha ! ha ! ha ! Mrs. H. Why, boy, I am ruined in earnest. My bureau has been broke open, and all taken away. Tony. Stick to that ; ha ! ha ! ha ! stick to that ; I'll bear witness, you know ; call me to bear witness. Mrs. H. I tell you, Tony, by all that's precious, the jewels are gone, and I shall be ruined forever. Tony. Sure I know they're gone, and I am to say so. Mrs. H. My dearest Tony, but hear me. They're gone, I say. Tony. By the laws, mamma, you make me for to laugh, ha ! ha ! I know who took them well enough, ha ! ha ! ha ! Mrs. H. (r. c). Was there ever such a blockhead, that can't tell the difference between jest and earnest. I tell you I'm not in jest, booby. (Shakmg him.) Tony. That's right, that's right ; you must be in a bitter passion, and then nobody will suspect either of us. I'll bear v/itness that they are gone. {Breaks mvay to l. c.) Mrs. H. Was there ever such a cross-grained brute, that won't hear me .'* Can you bear witness that you're no better 46 SHE STOOPS TO COXQUER, than a fool ? Was ever poor woman so beset with fools on the one hand, and thieves on the other ! Tony. I can bear witness to that. Mrs. H. Bear witness again, you blockhead you, and I'll turn you out of the room directly. My poor niece, what will become of her ? (Tony laughs}) Do you laugh, you unfeel- ing brute, as if you enjoyed my distress .'' Tony. I can bear witness to that. Mrs. H. Do you insult me, monster ? I'll teach you to vex your mother, I will. Here, thieves, thieves, thieves, thieves ! {Rims at Tony, who dodges he?-, rwniing ?-oiind the fur?iiture, and finally off r. 2 E. ; Mrs. Hard- castle, following him, piffing ajid blowing^ Exeunt both, r. 2 e. Enter Miss Hardcastle and Maid, l. 2 e. Miss H. (c). What an unaccountable creature is that brother of mine, to send them to the house as an inn. Ha ! ha ! I don't wonder at his impudence. Maid (l.). But what is more, madam, the young gentle- man, as you passed by in your present dress, asked me if you were the bar-maid .'' He mistook you for a bar-maid, madam. Miss H. Did he ? Then, as I live, I'm resolved to keep up the delusion. Tell me, Dolly, how do you like my present dress ? Maid. It's the dress, madam, that every lady wears in the country but when she visits or receives company. Miss H. And are you sure he does not remember my face or person ? Maid. Certain of it. Miss H. I vow I thought so ; for though we spoke for some time together, yet his fears were such that he never once looked up during the interview. Maid. But what do you hope for from keeping him in his mistake ? Miss H. In the first place, I shall be seen, and that is no small advantage to a girl who brings her face to market. But my chief aim is to take my gentleman off his guard, and, like an invincible champion of romance, examine the giant's force before 1 offer to combat. Maid. But are you sure you can act your part, and dis- SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 4/ guise your voice so that he may mistake that, as he has al- ready mistaken your person ? Miss H. Never fear me. I think I have got the true bar cant. {Business of mimicking bar-7naid''s i)ia7iner.) Did your honor call ? Attend the Lion, there ! Pipes and tobacco for the Angel ! The Lamb has been outrageous this half hour. Maid. It will do, madam. But he's here. Exit L. 2 E. Enter Marlow, r. 2 e. Mar. (r.). What a bawling in every part of the house ! I have scarce a moment's repose. If I go to the best room, there I find my host and his story. If I fly to the gallery, there we have my hostess with her curtsey down to the ground. I have at last got a moment to myself, and now for recollection. {Walks to a7id fro r. to c, and muses ^ Miss H. (l.). Did you call, sir.? Did your honor call ? Mar. {7?iusing). As for Miss Hardcastle, she's too grave and sentimental for me. Miss H. Did your honor call ? (She places herself btfore hi?n, curtseying., he tur7i- i7ig azvay^ Mar. No, child. {Musi7ig.) Besides, from the glimpse I had of her, I think she squints. Miss H. I am sure, sir, I heard the bell ring. Mar. No, no. {Musi7ig.) I have pleased my father, however, by coming down, and V\\ to-morrow please myself by returning. {Taki7ig out his tablets atid perusing the7n.) Miss H. Perhaps the other gentleman called, sir? Mar. No, no, I tell you. {Looks casually at her, then tur7is a7id looks her full in the face, iviih a pleased expressio7i.^ Yes, child, I think I did call. I wanted — I wanted — I vow, child, you are vastly handsome. Miss H. {curtseyi7ig at l.). Oh, la, sir, you'll make one ashamed. Mar. (c). Never saw a more sprightly malicious eye. Yes, yes, my dear, I did call. Have you got any of your — what d'ye call it, in the house ? Miss H. No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days. Mar. One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose. Suppose I should call for a taste, just by way of 48 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. trial, of the nectar of your lips ; perhaps I might be disap- pointed in that, too.- {Approaching Jier^ to l. c.) Miss H. (stepping back innoccjitly). Nectar! nectar! That's a liquor there's no call for in these parts. French, I suppose. We keep no French wines here, sir. Mar. Of true English growth, I assure you. Miss H. Then it's odd I should not know it. We brew all sorts of wines in this house, and I have lived here these eighteen years. Mar. Eighteen years ! Why one would think, child*, you kept the bar before you were born. How old are you 1 Miss H. Oh, sir, I must not tell my age. They say women and music should never be dated. Mar. To guess at this distance you can't be much above forty. {ApproacJiing to L.) Yet nearer, I don't think so much. By coming close to some women they look younger still; but when we come very close indeed — {At L., attempting to kiss he?'^ Miss H. (evading him, crosses to r.). Pray, sir, keep your distance. One would think you wanted to know one's age as they do horses, by mark of mouth. Mar. (l.). I protest, child, you use me extremely ill. If you keep me at this distance, how is it possible you and I can be ever acquainted ? Miss H. And who wants to be acquainted with you ? I want no such acquaintance, not I. I'm sure you did not treat Miss Hardcastle in this obstropolous manner. I'll warrant me, before her you looked dashed, and kept bowing to the ground, and talked for all the world as if you were a justice of the peace. Mar. (aside). Egad ! she has hit it, sure enough. (To Miss Hardcastle.) In awe of her, child.? Ha! ha! ha! A mere awkward, squinting thing ; no, no, I find you don't know me. I laughed, and rallied her a little ; but I was un- willing to be too severe. No, I could not be too severe, curse me ! Miss H. Oh ! then, sir, you are a favorite, I find, among the ladies? Mar. (to c). Yes, my dear, a great favorite ; and yet, hang me, I don't see what they find in me to follow. At the ladies' club in town, I am called their agreeable Rattle. Rattle, child, is not my real, name, but one I'm known by. My name is Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins, my dear, at your service. (At R., offering to salute her.) SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 49 Miss H. Hold, sir; you were introducing me to your club, not to yourself. And you're so great a favorite there you say? Mar. Yes, my dear. There's Mrs. Mantrap, Lady Betty Blackleg, the Countess of Cog, Mrs. Longhorns, old Miss Biddy Buckskin, and your humble servant, keep up the spirit of the place. WARN curtain^ Miss H. Then it's a very merry place, I suppose ? Mar. Yes, as merry as cards, suppers, wine, and old women can make us. Miss H. And their agreeable Rattle, ha! ha! ha! Mar. {aside). Egad ! I don't quite like this chit. She looks knowing, methinks. You laugh, child ? Miss H. I can't but laugh to think what time they all have for minding their work or their family. Mar. (aside). All's well, she don't laugh at me. {To Miss Hardcastle.) Do you ever work, child ? ]\liss H. Ay, sure. There's not a screen or a quilt in the whole house but what can bear witness to that. Mar. Odso ! Then you must show me your embroidery. I embroider and draw patterns myself a little. If you want a judge of your work, you must apply to me. {Seizifig her hand.) Miss H. Ay, but the colors don't look well by candle- light. {Struggling.) RING curtain. (Marlow attempts to put his anns around her. She avoids him., and tries to escape r. 2 E. At that mojnent Hardcastle enters r. 2 e., just in time to get the enibrace i?itended for Miss Hardcastle. Hardcastle starts in sur- prise. Miss Hardcastle runs off laugfiing, R. 2 e. Marlow gives Hardcastle a7i im- pudent look, crosses to l. 2 e., and goes off'siftg- ing, ivith an air of co7iquest. Hardcastle is lost in amazement., if?iitates Marlow's strut and song, and then goes off in disgust, R. 2 E.) QUICK CURTAIN. 50 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. ACT IV. Scene. — The same room in Hardcastle's house. READY broom and letter, and bunch of keys, L, 2 £• Enter Mava^ow, followed by ^.Servant, r. 2 e. Mar. (c). I wonder what Hastings could mean by send- ing me so valuable a thing as a casket to keep for him, when he knows the only place I have is the seat of a post-coach at an inn-door. Have you deposited the casket with the landlady, as I ordered you 1 Have you put it into her own hands ? Ser. (r.). Yes, your honor. Mar. She said she'd keep it safe, did she ? Ser. Yes, she said she'd keep it safe enough ; she asked me how I came by it, and she said she had a great mind to make me give an account of myself. Exit Servant, r. 2 e. Mar. Ha ! ha ! ha ! They're safe, however. What an unaccountable set of beings have we got amongst ! This little barmaid, though, runs in my head most strangely, and drives out the absurdities of all the rest of the family. She's mine — she must be mine, or I'm greatly mistaken. Enter Hastings, l. 2 e. Hast. (l.). Marlow here, and in spirits, too j Mar. (r.). Give me joy, George ! Crown me, shadow me with laurels ! Well, George, after all, we modest fellows don't want for success among the women. Hast. Some women you mean. But what success has your honor's modesty been crowned with now, that it grows so insolent upon us ? Mar. Didn't you see the tempting, brisk, lively little thing that runs about the house with a bunch of keys to its girdle ? Hast. Well, and what then ? Mar. She's mine, you rogue, you. Such fire, such mo- \ SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 5 1 tion, such eyes, such lips — but, egad ! she would not let me kiss them, though. Hast. But how can you, Charles, go about to rob a woman of her honor .^ {Sits \..) Mar. {leanijig agai?ist table., r. c). Pshaw ! pshaw ! We all know the honor of a bar-maid of an inn. I don't intend to rob her, take my word for it ; there's nothing in this house I sha'n't honestly pay for. Hast. I believe the girl has virtue. Mar. And if she has, I should be the last man in the world that would attempt to corrupt it. Hast. You have taken care, I hope, of the casket I sent you to lock up ? Is it in safety ? Mar. Yes, yes ; it's safe enough. I have taken care of it. But how could you think the seat of a post-coach at an inn-door a place of safety 1 Ah, numbskull ! I have taken better precautions for you than you did for yourself — I have — Hast. What ? {RisiJig hurriedly, and crossing to c.) Mar. (to R.). I have sent it to the landlady to keep for you. Hast. To the landlady ? Mar. The landlady. Hast. You did ? Mar. I did. She's to De answerable for its forthcoming, you know. Hast. Yes, she'll bring it forth, with a witness. Mar. Wasn't I right ? I believe you'll allow that I acted prudently upon this occasion ? Hast, {aside). He must not see my uneasiness. Mar. You seem a little disconcerted though, methinks. Sure nothing has happened ? {Crosses to r. c.) Hast. No, nothing. Never was in better spirits in all my life. And so you left it with the landlady, who, no doubt, very readily undertook the charge 1 Mar. Rather too readily. For she not only kept the casket, but through her great precaution, was going to keep the messenger too. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Hast. Ha ! ha ! ha ! They're safe, however. Mar. As a guinea in a miser's purse. Hast, {aside). So now all hopes of fortune are at an end, and we must set off without it. (To Marlow.) Well, Charles, I'll leave you to your meditations on the pretty bar- maid, and — ha ! ha ! ha ! — if you are as successful for your- self as you have been for me — 52 SHE STOOPS TO COXQUER. Mar. What then ? Hast. Why, then, I wish you joy with all my heart. Exit L. 2 E. Mar. I could wish no better for myself. {Throws hlm~ self into arjnchair at R.) Enter Hardcastle, r. 2 e. Hard, {ilown r.). I no longer know my own house. It's turned all topsy-turvy. His servants have got drunk al- ready. I'll bear it no longer ; and yet, from my respect for his father, I'll be calm. (^To Marlow.) Mr. Marlow, your servant. I'm your very humble servant. {Bowing low.) Mar. Sir, your humble servant. {Aside.) What's to be the wonder now ? Hard. I believe, sir, you must be sensible, sir, that no man alive ought to be more welcome than your father's son, sir ; I hope you think so 1 Mar. I do from my soul, sir. I don't want much en- treaty. I generally make my father's son welcome wher- ever he goes. Hard. I believe you do, from my soul, sir. But though I say nothing to your own conduct, that of your servants is insufferable. Their manner of drinking is setting a very bad example in this house, I assure you. Mar. I protest, my very good sir, that's no fault of mine. If they don't drink as they ought, they are to blame. I or- dered them not to spare the cellar. I did, I assure you. {Speaking off, -L. 2 E.) Here, let one of my servants come up. {To Hardcastle.) My positive directions were, that as I did not drink myself, they should make up for my de- ficiencies below. Hard. Then they had your orders for what they do ! I'm satisfied. {C^'osses to fireplace.) Mar. They had, I assure you. You shall hear from one of themselves. Enter Servant, drunk., l. 2 e. You, Jeremy, come forward, sirrah ! {He obeys.) What were my orders ? Were you not told to drink freely, and call for what you thought fit, for the good of the house ? Hard, {aside). I begin to lose my patience. Jer. Please, your honor, liberty and Fleet Street forever ! SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 53 Though I am but a servant, I'm as good as another man. I'll drink for no man before supper, sir, dam'me ! Good liquor will sit upon a good supper, but a good supper will not sit upon — hiccup — upon my conscience, sir. Exit L. 2 E. Mar. You see, my old friend, the fellow is as drunk as he possibly can be ; I don't know what you'd have more, unless you'd have the poor devil soused in a beer-barrel. Hard. Zounds ! He'll drive me distracted if I contain myself any longer. {Do7iin l.) Mr. Marlow, sir, I have submitted to your insolence for more than four hours, and I see no likelihood of its coming to an end. I'm now resolved to be master here, sir, and I desire that you and your drunken pack may leave my house directly. Mar. Leave your house ? Sure you jest, my good friend ! What, when I'm doing what I can to please you .'* Hard. I tell you, sir, you don't please me ; so I desire you'll leave my house. Mar. Sure you cannot be serious 1 At this time of night, and such a night ! You only mean to banter me. Hard. I tell you, sir, I'm serious ; and now that my pas- sions are roused, I say this house is mine, sir, this house is mine, and I command you to leave it directly. Mar. Puddle in a storm ! I sha'n't stir a step, I assure you. (/;/ a serious to?ie.) This your house, fellow ! It's my house. This is my house. ]\Iine while I choose to stay. What right have you to bid me leave this house, sir? I never met with such impudence, curse me, never in my whole life before. Hard. Nor I, confound me if ever I did. To come to my house, to call for what he likes, to turn me out of my own chair, to insult the family, to order his servants to get drunk, and then to tell me, '' this house is mine, sir." By all that's impudent, it makes me laugh. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Pray, sir (J)a?iterifig), as you take the house, what think you of tak- ing the rest of the furniture .? There's a pair of silver can- dlesticks, and there are a set of prints, too. What think you of "The Rake's Progress" for your own apartment? Mar. Bring me your bill, I say, and I'll leave you and your infernal house directly. {Rising a?igfily.) Hard. (c). Then there's a brass warming-pan, and a mahogany table that you may see your own brazen face in. 54 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Mar. My bill, I say. Hard. I had forgot the great chair, for your own partic- ular slumbers, after a hearty meal. Mar. Zounds ! Bring me my bill, I say, and let's hear no more on't. Hard. Young man, young man {changing fro7)i passion to quiet dignity')^ from your father's letter to me, 1 was taught to expect a well-bred modest man, as a visitor here, but now I find him no better than a coxcomb and a bully ; but your father will be down here presently, and shall hear more of it. Exit R. 2 E. Mar. {looking after him^ perplexed). How's this ! Sure I've not mistaken the house ! Everything looks like an inn. The servants cry " Coming." The attendance is awkward ; the bar-maid, too, to attend us. But she's here, and will further inform me. Enter Miss Hardcastle, l. 2 e., crossing to r. Whither so fast, child t A word with you. Miss H. Let it be short, then. I'm in a hurry. Mar. {leaning against table r. c). Pray, child, answer me one question. What are you, and what may your business in this house be .'* Miss H. (c). A relation of the family, sir. Mar. What'! A poor relation ? Miss H. Yes, sir. A poor relation appointed to keep the keys, and to see that the guests want nothing in my power to give them. Mar. That is, you act as the bar-maid of this inn ? Miss H. Inn ! Oh, law ! What brought that in your head t One of the best families in the county keep an inn ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Old Mr. Hardcastle's house an inn ! Mar. Mr. Hardcastle's house ! Is this house Mr. Hard- castle's house, child ? Miss H. Ay, sure. Whose else should it be ? Mar. So, then, all's out, and I have been damnably im- posed on. Oh, confound my stupid head ! I shall be laughed at over the whole town. To mistake this house of all others for an" inn, and my father's old friend for an inn- keeper. What a swaggering puppy must he take me for. What a silly puppy do I find myself. There again, may I be hanged, my dear, but I mistook you for the bar-maid. SHE STOOPS TO COiVQUER. 55 Miss H. Dear me ! dear me ! I'm sure there's nothing in my behavior to put me upon a level with one of that stamp. Mar. Nothing, my dear, nothing. But I was in for a Hst of blunders, and could not help making you a sub- scriber. My stupidity saw everything the wrong way. i mistook your assiduity for assurance, and your simplicity for allurement. But it's over — this house I no more show my face in. Miss H. I hope, sir, I have done nothing to disoblige you. I'm sure I should be sorry to affront any gentleman who has been so polite, and said so many civil things to me. I'm sure I should be sorry {pretending to cry), if he left the family upon my account. I'm sure I should be sorry people said anything amiss, since I have no fortune but my character. Mar. (aside). By heaven, she weeps! This is the first mark of tenderness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. Miss H. But I'm sure my family is a3 good as Miss Hardcastle's, and though I'm poor, that's no great misfor- tune to a contented mind; and until this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune. Mar. And why now, ray pretty simplicity ? Miss H. Because it puts me at a distance from one, that if I had a thousand pound, I w^ould give it all to. Mar. (aside). This simplicity bewitches me so, that if I stay I'm undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. (To her.) Your partiality in my favor, my dear, touches me most sensibly ; and were I to live for myself alone, I could easily fix my choice. But to be plain with you, the difference of our birth, fortune, and education, makes an honorable connection impossible ; and I can never harbor a thought of seducing simplicity, that trusted in my honor, or bringing ruin upon one whose only fault was being too lovely. Exit R. 2 E. Miss H. Generous man ! I never knew half his merit till now. He shall not go, if I have power or art to detain him. I'll still preserve the character in which I stooped to conquer, but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps, may laugh him out of his resolution. Exit L. 2 E. 56 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. Enter Tony ami Miss Neville, z.from r. Tony {down c). Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next time ; I have done my duty. She has got the jewels again, that's a sure thing ; but she believes it was all a mis- take of the servants. Miss N. {doimi l. c). But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us in this distress. If she in the least sus- pects that I am going off, I shall certainly be locked up, or sent to my aunt Pedigree's, which is ten times worse. Tony. To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damned bad things. But what can I do? I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like whistlejacket, and I'm sure you can't say but I've courted you nicely before her face. Here she comes. (Jll-iiaturedly^ I suppose I must make love to you again, {lliey retire up stage to fireplace, and play at cat^s- cradle. Miss Neville j//j. Touy gets very 7nucii excited, and cries) Candles ! Candles ! Enter Mrs. Hardcastle, r. 2 e. Mrs. H. {down c). Well, I was greatly fluttered, to be sure. But my son tells me it was all a mistake of the ser- vants. I sha'n't be easy, however, till they are fairly mar- ried, and then let her keep her own fortune. {Turns to l., a7id sees Miss Neville and Tony.) But what do I see ? Fondling together, as I'm alive! I never saw Tony so sprightly before. Ah ! have I caught you, my pretty doves ! What, billing, exchanging stolen glances, and broken mur- murs, ah ! Tony. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure. But there's no love lost between us. Mrs. H. a mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it bum brighter. Miss N. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home. Indeed he sha'n't leave us any more. It won't leave us, cousin Tony, will it t {Pretending to emh7'ace /ii?n.) Tony. Oh, it's a pretty creature. No, I'd sooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you so becoming. {Making a face.) Mxss N. Agreeable cousin 1 Who can help admiring that natural humor, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless — {Fatting his c/ieek.) Ah, it's a bold face. Mrs. H. Pretty innocence ! SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 5/ Tony. I'm sure I always loved cousin Con's hazel eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that, over the haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins. Mrs. H. Ah, he would charm the bird from the tree. I never was so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr. Lumpkin, exactly. The jewels, my dear Con, shall be yours incontinently. You shall have them. Isn't he a sweet boy, my dear.'' You shall be married to-morrow, and we'll put ofl the rest of his education, like Dr. Drowsey's sermons, till a fitter opportunity. {Crosses l.) Enter Diggory, l. 2 e., carrying a stable broom like a musket^ at " shoulder armsT A letter is stuck in the end of the br 007ns tick. Dig. (jnaf'ching roimd the room^ chanting^. Where's the Squire? I have got a letter for your worship. {Prcse7its h'tter^ as if shooting hini^ Tony. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters first. Dig. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands. Tony. Who does it come from ? Dig. Your worship mun ask that of the letter itself. Right about face ! {Executes order.) Tony (c). Double quick march ! (Kicks Diggory to exit at L. 2 E.) I could wish to know, though. {2\irning the letter and gazing on it^ Miss N. {rising hastily. Aside). Undone, undone ! A letter to him from Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt sees it, we are ruined forever. I'll keep her employed a little if I can. {Down l. ^Mrs. Hardcastle; aloud.) But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart answer just now to Mr. Marlow. We so laughed. You must know, madam — this way a little, for he must not hear us. {Tryifig to engage Mrs. Hardcastle's attentiofz and keep -Jier back to Tony. They whisper to- gether?) Tony (still gazing). A damned cramp piece of penman- ship as ever I saw in my life. I can read your print hand very well. But here there are such handles, and shnnks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head from the tail. "To Anthony Lumpkin, Esquire." It's very odd, I can read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough. But when I come to open it, it's all — buzz. That's 58 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. hard, very hard ; for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence. Mrs. H. {Iaughi7ig at Miss Neville's narrative). Ha ! ha ! ha ! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philosopher .? Miss N. {lirawing Mrs. Hardcastle up stage and watch- ing Tony anxiously^). Yes, madam ; but you must hear the rest, madam. A little more this way, or he may hear us. You'll hear how he puzzled him again. Mrs. H. {ivith an eye on Tony). He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks. Tony {still gazing). A damned up-and-down hand, as if it was disguised in liquor. (^Reading.) "D — R — " that stands for doctor. Then there's an S and a Q — oh — S — q — u — i — r — t — oh. Doctor Squirt. Ay, that's that. Then there's an M, and a T, and an S, but whether the next fellow be an izzard or an R, confound me, if I can tell. Mrs. H. {coining forward., L.). What's that, my dear? Can I give you any assistance 1 Miss N. {following^ l. q,.., getting between Mrs. Hardcastle and Tony). Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads a cramp hand better than I. {Twitching the letter from hiin.) Do you know who it is from .? Tony. Can't tell, except from Dick Ginger, the feeder. Miss N. Ay, so it is. {Pretending to read.) " Dear Squire. Hoping that you're in health, as I am at this present. The gentlemen of the Shake-bag club has cut the gentlemen of the Goose-green quite out of feather. The odds — um — odd battle — um — long fighting — um." Here, here, it's all about cocks and fightings; it's of no consequence — here, put it up, put it up. {Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.) Tony. But I tell you, miss, it's of all the consequence in the world. I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no consequence ! {Giving Mrs. Hardcastle the letter ; she comes r. c.) Mrs. H. {reading). How's this .'* Tony (c, to Miss Neville, l. c, who pinches him in dis- gust). There, you never said a word about " How's this ? " Mrs. H. {reading). "Dear Squire." Tony. Oh, I thought that was Doctor Squirt. {Looki?ig 07'er.) Mrs. H. {reading). " I am now waiting for Miss Neville, SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 59 with a post-chaise and pair, at the bottom of the garden, but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. I expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised. Despatch is necessary, as the hag " — Tony {jLuith glee). That's you ! Mrs. H. (Jiittrng To't^Y a 7'ap on the head with her fan hefo7'e continuing). Ay, the hag, "your mother, will otherwise sus- pect us. Yours, Hastings." (^Angrily') Grant me patience ! I shall run distracted ! My rage chokes me ! Miss N. I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence or sinister design that belongs to another. Mrs. H. {curtseyifig very low). Fine spoken madam, you are most miraculously polite and engaging, and quite the very pink of courtesy and circumspection, madam ! (Changing her tone, she goes toward Tony. He retreats. She strikes him on the head with her fan.) Tony {tafitalizmgly). "The old hag — your mother." {Sta?ids with his month wide open, laughing.) Mrs. H. (to Tony). And you, you great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth shut (Tony shuts his mouth suddenly'), were you, too, joined against me ? But I'll defeat all your plots in a moment. {To Miss Nev- ille.) As for you, madam, since you have got a pair of fresh horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them. So, if you please, instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to run off with me. Your old aunt Pedigree will keep you secure, I'll warrant me. You, too, sir, may mount 3^our horse, and guard us upon the way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory ! I'll show you that I wish you better than you do yourselves. Exit R. 2 E. Miss N. {walking excitedly up a?id down, l. /'.'so taste. JL8 intereei is f!<-.io\i^ . l>nt it is brightly written, audits story is very dramatic, originally'- ■■' ' •' '' T-'ootlight Club, Jamaica Plain, M;t38. 15 cents. LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS A NEW C The RAQ=PICK A DRAMA IN KIVK ACTS lllllllllllllllllllllill Illililillll 014 430 126 2 By JUSTIN ADAMS. Author of "At the Picket-Line," "T'riss," "The Limit of the Law," "Down East," etc. Six male and four female characters. Scenery, easily arranged ; costumes, modern. This piece is a sensational melodrama, a success of two theatrical seasons, and is offered on its reputation. The co'mhination of a small cast, simple requirements and great effectiveness in performance cannot fail to recommend it to amateur dramatic companies. Jo, the waif, can be play( either as a girl or a boy, and is a great part with plenty of chance for specialtit ' Bims is a good comedy part, and Baxter and Mother Shin capital heavy chara - ters. The piece is altogether an excellent combination of strong sensation^ interest and abundant humor. Price 25 cents. Two unwelcome visitoi SYNOPSIS. Act I. —The junk-shop. A lucky find among the rags. The chance si| ture. Blinded. The junk-shop on fire. Baxter in flames. Josie to the reset ActII. — The banker's mansion. Hypocrisy. Forgery. Harry accused. Timely arrival of Jo. Act III. — Near the Battery. The electrical experiment. An opportu accident. " She is your child." Act IV. —Near the seminary. The frozen river. A villain's deed. Rescx- Act V. — The banker's mansion. Proving an alibi. A cloudburst, suicide. The family circle. FOR FEflALE CHARACTERS ONLY. ") An Afternoon Rehearsal. A COIVIKIDY IN ONK ACT. By LIZZIE HARUAR: Ty'm.T A »-»' Six female charaaters. A very bright and amusmg piece, written originally for a Working Girls' Club, and especially adapted f<[r this purpose. Price Idt cents. LIBRARY OF CONGRE 014 430 126 2 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 430 126 2 #