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- } - -/*CSS for Transcriber's note*/ -ul { - margin-top: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 0.25em - } -li { - margin-bottom: 0.5em - } -div.tnote { - padding-bottom: 0.5em; - padding-top: 0; - padding-left: 0.5em; - padding-right: 0.5em; - margin-top: 2em; - font-size: 90%; - background: #eee; - border: solid 0.075em - } -h3.tnote { - font-style: italic; - font-size: 110%; - font-weight: bold; - padding-top: 0.5em - } -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mask and Faces, or, Before and Behind the -Curtain, by Tom Taylor and Charles Reade - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Mask and Faces, or, Before and Behind the Curtain - A Comedy in Two Acts - -Author: Tom Taylor - Charles Reade - -Release Date: March 7, 2016 [EBook #51385] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASK AND FACES *** - - - - -Produced by Paul Haxo with special thanks to the Internet -Archive and the University of Toronto. - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div class="cover"> -<img alt="Cover" src="images/cover.jpg" title="Cover" height="100%"/> -</div> - -<div class="chapter" id="Front_Matter"> -<div id="toc" class="tnote"> - -<p class="center bigfont italics pad_top_half_em">MASKS AND FACES</p> - -<p class="center slightlybigfont italics"><a id="cast_toc" href="#cast">Dramatis -Personæ</a></p> - -<p class="center slightlybigfont pad_top_quarter_em"><a id="Act_I_toc" href="#Act_I">ACT -I.</a></p> - -<p class="center slightlybigfont"><a id="Act_I_Sc_1_toc" -href="#Act_I_Sc_1">S<small>CENE</small> I.—<i>The Green Room of the Theatre Royal, Covent -Garden.</i></a></p> - -<p class="center slightlybigfont"><a id="Act_I_Sc_2_toc" -href="#Act_I_Sc_2">S<small>CENE</small> II.—<i>A spacious and elegant Apartment in the -House of Mr. Vane.</i></a></p> - -<p class="center slightlybigfont pad_top_half_em"><a id="Act_II_toc" href="#Act_II">ACT -II.</a></p> - -<p class="center italics"><a href="#Act_II"><span class="slightlybigfont">A large roughly -furnished Garret.</span></a></p> - -<p class="center slightlybigfont italics pad_top_half_em"><a id="tnote_toc" -href="#tnote">Transcriber’s Note</a></p> -</div> - -<div class="pagebreak"></div> - -<div id="title_page"> -<p class="title">MASKS AND FACES;</p> - -<p class="or">OR,</p> - -<p class="subtitle_1">BEFORE AND BEHIND THE CURTAIN.</p> - -<p class="subtitle_2 italics">A Comedy</p> - -<p class="subtitle_3">IN TWO ACTS.</p> - -<p class="by">BY</p> - -<p class="author">TOM TAYLOR AND CHARLES READE.</p> - -<p class="publisher pad_top_two_em">LONDON:</p> - -<p class="publisher">RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.</p> - -<p class="publisher">1854</p> - -<p class="center smallfont pad_top_one_em">[<i>The Authors reserve the right of -Translating this work.</i>]</p> -</div> - -<div class="pagebreak"></div> - -<p class="pad_top_three_em center"><small>PRINTED BY HARRISON AND SONS,</small></p> - -<p class="center pad_bottom_half_em"><small>LONDON GAZETTE OFFICE, ST. MARTIN’S -LANE.</small></p> - -<div class="pagebreak"></div> - -<p class="history">“M<small>ASKS</small> <small>AND</small> F<small>ACES</small>” was -produced by Mr. Webster in November, 1852; and played 103 nights at the Haymarket and -Adelphi Theatres.</p> - -<hr class="small"/> - -<table class="pad_bottom_half_em" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" -summary="cast"> -<tbody> -<tr> -<th class="role"><a id="cast" href="#cast_toc">D<small>RAMATIS</small> -P<small>ERSONÆ</small>.</a></th> - -<th class="actor">H<small>AYMARKET</small>.</th> - -<th class="actor">A<small>DELPHI</small>.</th> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Sir Charles Pomander</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Leigh Murray</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Leigh Murray.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Mr. Ernest Vane</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Parselle</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Parselle.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Colly Cibber</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Lambert</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. G. Honey.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Quin</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. James Bland</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Paul Bedford.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Triplet</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Benjamin Webster</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Benjamin Webster.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Lysimachus Triplet</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Master Caulfield</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Master Caulfield.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Mr. Snarl</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Stuart</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. O. Smith.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Mr. Soaper</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Braid</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. C. J. Smith.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">James Burdock</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Rogers</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. R. Romer.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Colander</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Clark</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Hastings.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Hundsdon</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Coe</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Lindon.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Call Boy</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Edwards</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mr. Waye.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Pompey</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Master C. J. Smith</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Master C. J. Smith.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role pad_top_one_em">Mrs. Vane</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor pad_top_one_em">Miss Rosa Bennett</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor pad_top_one_em">Miss Woolgar.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Peg Woffington</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mrs. Stirling</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Madame Celeste.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Kitty Clive</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Miss Maskell</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Miss Maskell.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Mrs. Triplet</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mrs. Leigh Murray</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Mrs. Leigh Murray.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Roxalana</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Miss Caulfield</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Miss Caulfield.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl_role">Maid</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Miss E. Woulds</td> - -<td class="tdl_actor">Miss Mitchenson.</td> -</tr> -</tbody> -</table> -</div> - -<div class="chapter" id="Act_One_div"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="title" id="title"><span class="biggerfont">MASKS AND FACES,</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="smallerfont">OR,</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="slightlybigfont">BEFORE AND BEHIND THE CURTAIN.</span></h3> - -<hr class="small"/> - -<h4 class="act" id="Act_I"><a href="#Act_I_toc">ACT I.</a></h4> - -<p class="description" id="Act_I_Sc_1"><a href="#Act_I_Sc_1_toc">S<small>CENE</small> -I.</a>—<i>The Green Room of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden. A Fire-place</i> -<small>C</small>., <i>with a Looking-glass over it, on which a call is wafered. Curtain -rises on Mr. Quin and Mrs. Clive, seated each side of Fire-place.</i></p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Who dines with Mr. Vane to-day besides ourselves?</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. His inamorata, Mrs. Woffington, of this theatre.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Of course. But who else?</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Sir Charles Pomander. The critics, Snarl and Soaper, are invited, -I believe.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Then I shall eat no dinner.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Pooh! There is to be a haunch that will counterpoise in one hour a -century of censure. Let them talk! the mouth will revenge the ears of Falstaff;—besides, -Snarl is the only ill-natured one—Soaper praises people, don’t he?</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Don’t be silly, Quin! Soaper’s praise is only a pin for his -brother executioner to hang abuse on: by this means Snarl, who could not invent even -ill-nature, is never at a loss. Snarl is his own weight in wormwood; but Soaper -is—hush!—hold your tongue.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Snarl and Soaper</i> <small>L</small>.<small>D</small>. -<i>Quin and Clive rise.</i>]</p> - -<p class="noindent">(<i>Clive, with engaging sweetness</i>). Ah! Mr. Snarl! Mr. Soaper! we -were talking of you.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. I am sorry for that, madam.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. We hear you dine with us at Mr. Vane’s.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. We have been invited, and are here to accept. I was told Mr. Vane -was here.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. No; but he is on the stage.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Come, then, Soaper.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>They move towards door.</i></p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Snarl!</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Yes. (<i>With a look of secret intelligence</i>).</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. (<i>crosses slowly to Clive</i>). My dear Mrs. Clive, there was I -going away without telling you how charmed I was with your Flippanta; all that sweetness -and womanly grace, with which you invested that character, was——</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Misplaced. Flippanta is a vixen, or she is nothing at all.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Your Sir John Brute, sir, was a fine performance: you never forgot -the gentleman even in your cups.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Which, as Sir John Brute is the exact opposite of a gentleman, he -ought to have forgotten.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. But you must excuse me now; I will resume your praise at -dinner-time.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit, with bows</i>, <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small> (<i>walks in a rage</i>). We are the most unfortunate of all -artists. Nobody regards our feelings. (<i>Quin shakes his head.</i>)</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Call-Boy</i> <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p>C<small>ALL</small>-B<small>OY</small>. Mr. Quin and Mrs. Clive!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Call-Boy</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. I shall cut my part in this play.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small> (<i>yawns</i>). Cut it as deep as you like, there will be enough -left; and so I shall tell the author if he is there.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exeunt Quin and Clive</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Mr. Vane and Sir Charles Pomander</i> <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. All this eloquence might be compressed into one word—you love Mrs. -Margaret Woffington.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. I glory in it.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Why not, if it amuses you? We all love an actress once in our -lives, and none of us twice.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. You are the slave of a word, Sir Charles Pomander. Would you -confound black and white because both are colours? Actress! Can you not see that she is a -being like her fellows in nothing but a name? Her voice is truth, told by music: theirs -are jingling instruments of falsehood.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. No—they are all instruments; but hers is more skilfully tuned and -played upon.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. She is a fountain of true feeling.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. No—a pipe that conveys it, without spilling or retaining a -drop.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. She has a heart alive to every emotion.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. And influenced by none.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. She is a divinity to worship.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. And a woman to fight shy of. No—no—we all know Peg Woffington; she -is a decent actress on the boards, and a great actress off them. But I will tell you how -to add a novel charm to her. Make her blush—ask her for the list of your predecessors.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>with a mortified air</i>). Sir Charles Pomander! But you -yourself profess to admire her.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. And so I do, hugely. Notwithstanding the charms of the mysterious -Hebe I told you of, whose antediluvian coach I extricated from the Slough of Despond, near -Barnet, on my way to town yesterday, I gave La Woffington a proof of my devotion only two -hours ago.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. How?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. By offering her three hundred a-year—house—coach—pin-money—my -heart——and the et ceteras.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. You? But she has refused.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. My dear Arcadian, I am here to receive her answer. (<i>Vane crosses -to</i> <small>L</small>. <small>H</small>.) You had better wait for it before making -your avowal.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. That avowal is made already; but I will wait, if but to see what a -lesson the calumniated actress can read to the fine gentleman.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>. <small>H</small>.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. The lesson will be set by me—Woffington will learn it immediately. -It is so simple, only three words, <i>£. s. d.</i></p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>. <small>H</small>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIPLET</small> (<i>speaking outside</i>). Mr. Rich not in the theatre? Well, my -engagements will allow of my waiting for a few minutes. (<i>Enter Triplet and Call-Boy</i> -<small>L</small>. <i>Triplet has a picture wrapped in baize and without a frame.</i>) And -if you will just let me know when Mr. Rich arrives (<i>winks—touches his pocket</i>). -Heaven forgive me for raising groundless expectations!</p> - -<p>C<small>ALL</small>-B<small>OY</small>. What name, sir?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mr. Triplet.</p> - -<p>C<small>ALL</small>-B<small>OY</small>. Triplet! There is something left for you in the -hall, sir.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Call-Boy</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I knew it, I sent him three tragedies. They are accepted; and he -has left me a note in the hall, to fix the reading—at last. I felt it must come, soon or -late; and it has come—late. Master of three arts, painting, writing, and acting, by each -of which men grow fat, how was it possible I should go on perpetually starving. But that -is all over now. My tragedies will be acted, the town will have an intellectual treat, and -my wife and children will stab my heart no more with their hungry looks.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Call-Boy with parcel.</i>]</p> - -<p>C<small>ALL</small>-B<small>OY</small>. Here is the parcel for you, sir.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Call-Boy</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>weighs it in his hand</i>). Why, how is this? Oh, I see; he -returns them for some trifling alterations. Well, if they are judicious, I shall certainly -adopt them, for (<i>opening the parcel</i>) managers are practical men. My tragedies!—Eh? -here are but two! one is accepted!—no! they are all here (<i>sighs</i>). Well, -(<i>spitefully</i>) it is a thousand pounds out of Mr. <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-6">[Pg 6]</a></span>Rich’s pocket, poor man! I pity him; and my -hungry mouths at home! Heaven knows where I am to find bread for them to-morrow! -Everything that will raise a shilling I have sold or pawned. Even my poor picture here, -the portrait of Mrs. Woffington from memory—I tried to sell that this morning at every -dealer’s in Long Acre—and not one would make me an offer.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Woffington</i> <small>L</small>. <i>reciting from a -part.</i>]</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">W<small>OFF</small>. -“Now by the joys</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Which my soul still has uncontroll’d pursued,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">I would not turn aside from my least pleasure.</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">Though all thy force were armed to bar my way.”</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>, <small>R</small>.). Mrs. Woffington, the great -original of my picture!</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">W<small>OFF</small>. (<small>L</small>.) “But like the birds, -great nature’s happy commoners</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">Rifle the sweets”—I beg your pardon, sir!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Nay, madam, pray continue; happy the hearer and still happier the -author of verses so spoken.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes, if you could persuade the authors how much they owe us, and -how hard it is to find good music for indifferent words. Are you an author, sir?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. In a small way, madam; I have here three tragedies.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>looking down at them with comical horror</i>). Fifteen acts, -mercy on us!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Which if I could submit to Mrs. Woffington’s judgment——</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>recoiling</i>). I am no judge of such things, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No more is the manager of this theatre.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. What! has he accepted them?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No! madam! he has had them six months and returned them without a -word.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Patience, my good sir, patience! authors of tragedies should learn -that virtue of their audiences. Do you know I called on Mr. Rich fifteen times before I -could see him?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. You, madam, impossible!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, it was some years ago—and he has had to pay a hundred pounds -for each of those little visits—let me see,—fifteen times—you must write twelve more -tragedies—sixty acts—and then he will read one, and give you his judgment at last, and -when you have got it—it won’t be worth a farthing.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>turns up reading her part.</i>)</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). One word from this laughing lady, and all my plays -would be read—but I dare not ask her—she is up in the world, I am down. She is great—I am -nobody—besides they say she is all brains and no heart (<i>crosses to</i> -<small>L</small>. <i>Moves sorrowfully towards</i> -<small>L</small>. <small>D</small>., <i>taking his picture</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. He looks like a fifth act of a domestic tragedy. Stop, surely I -know that doleful face—Sir!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>beckons</i>). We have met before;—don’t speak; yours is a face -that has been kind to me, and I never forget those faces.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Me, madam! I know better what is due to you than to be kind to -you.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. To be sure! it is Mr. Triplet, good Mr. Triplet of -Goodman’s-fields Theatre.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. It is, madam (<i>opening his eyes with astonishment</i>); but we -don’t call him Mr., nor even good.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes; it is Mr. Triplet (<i>shakes both his hands warmly; he -timidly drops a tragedy or two</i>). Don’t you remember a little orange girl at Goodman’s -Fields you used sometimes to pat on the head and give sixpence to, some seven years ago, -Mr. Triplet?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Ha! ha! I do remember one, with such a merry laugh and bright eye; -and the broadest brogue of the whole sisterhood.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Get along with your blarney then, Mr. Triplet, an’ is it the -comether ye’d be puttin’ on poor little Peggy?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Oh! oh! gracious goodness, oh!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes; that friendless orange girl was Margaret Woffington! Well, -old friend, you see time has treated me well. I hope he has been as kind to you; tell me, -Mr. Triplet.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). I must put the best face on it with her. Yes, -madam, he has blessed me with an excellent wife and three charming children. Mrs. Triplet -was Mrs. Chatterton, of Goodman’s Fields—great in the juvenile parts—you remember her?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>very drily</i>). Yes, I remember her; where is she acting?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Why, the cares of our family—and then her health (<i>sighs</i>). -She has not acted these eight months.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Ah!—and are you still painting scenes?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. With the pen, madam, not the brush! as the wags said, I have -transferred the distemper from my canvas to my imagination, ha! ha!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>aside</i>). This man is acting gaiety. And have your pieces -been successful?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Eminently so—in the closet; the managers have as yet excluded them -from the stage.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Ah! now if those things were comedies, I would offer to act in one -of them, and then the stage door would fly open at sight of the author.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I’ll go home and write a comedy (<i>moves</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. On second thoughts, perhaps you had better leave the tragedies -with me.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. My dear madam!—and you will read them?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Ahem! I will make poor Rich read them.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. But he has rejected them.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. That is the first step—reading comes after, when it comes at -all.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). I must fly home and tell my wife.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>aside</i>). In the mean time I can put five guineas into his -pocket. Mr. Triplet, do you write congratulatory verses—odes—and that sort of thing?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Anything, madam, from an acrostic to an epic.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Good, then I have a commission for you; I dine to-day at Mr. -Vane’s, in Bloomsbury Square. We shall want some verses. Will you oblige us with a -copy?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). A guinea in my way, at least. Oh, madam, do but -give me a subject.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Let’s see—myself, if you can write on such a theme.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. ’Tis the one I would have chosen out of all the heathen mythology; -the praises of Venus and the Graces. I will set about it at once (<i>takes up -portrait</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>sees picture</i>). But what have you there? not another -tragedy?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>blushing</i>). A poor thing, madam, a portrait—my own -painting, from memory.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh! oh! I’m a judge of painted faces; let me see it.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Nay, madam!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I insist! (<i>She takes off the baize.</i>) My own portrait, as I -live! and a good likeness too, or my glass flatters me like the rest of them. And this you -painted from memory?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Yes, madam; I have a free admission to every part of the theatre -before the curtain. I have so enjoyed your acting, that I have carried your face home with -me every night, forgive my presumption, and tried to fix in the studio the impression of -the stage.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Do you know your portrait has merit? I will give you a sitting for -the last touches.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Oh, madam!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And bring all the critics—there, no thanks or I’ll stay away. -Stay, I must have your address.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>returning to her</i>). On the fly leaf of each work, madam, -you will find the address of James Triplet, painter, actor, and dramatic author, and Mrs. -Woffington’s humble and devoted servant. (<i>Bows ridiculously low, moves away, but -returns with an attempt at a jaunty manner.</i>) Madam, you have inspired a son of Thespis -with dreams of eloquence; you have tuned to a higher key a poet’s lyre; you have tinged a -painter’s existence with brighter colours; and—and—(<i>gazes on her and tries in vain to -speak</i>) God in heaven bless you, Mrs. Woffington!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>. <i>hastily.</i></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. So! I must look into this!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Sir Charles Pomander</i> <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ah, Mrs. Woffington, I have just parted with an adorer of -yours.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I wish I could part with them all.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Nay, this is a most original admirer, Ernest Vane, that pastoral -youth who means to win La Woffington by agricultural courtship, who wants to take the star -from its firmament, and stick it in a cottage.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And what does the man think I am to do without this (<i>imitates -applause</i>) from my dear public’s thousand hands.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. You are to have that from a single mouth instead (<i>mimics a -kiss</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Go on, tell me what more he says.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Why, he——</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No, you are not to invent; I should detect your work in a minute, -and you would only spoil this man.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. He proposes to be your friend, rather than your lover; to fight for -your reputation instead of adding to your éclat.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh! and is Mr. Vane your friend?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. He is!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>with significance</i>). Why don’t you tell him my real -character, and send him into the country again!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I do; but he snaps his fingers at me and common sense and the -world:—there is no getting rid of him, except in one way. I had this morning the honour, -madam, of laying certain propositions at your feet.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, yes, your letter, Sir Charles (<i>takes it</i> <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-12">[Pg 12]</a></span><i>out of her -pocket</i>). I ran my eye down it as I came along, let me see—(<i>letter</i>)—“a coach,” -“a country house,” “pin-money.” Heigh ho! And I am <i>so</i> tired of houses, and coaches, -and pins. Oh, yes, here <i>is</i> something. What is this you offer me, up in this -corner?</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>They inspect the letter together.</i>]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. That,—my “heart!”</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And you can’t even write it; it looks just like “earth.” There is -your letter, Sir Charles.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>Curtseys and returns it; he takes it and bows.</i>]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Favour me with your answer.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You have it.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>laughing</i>). Tell me, do you really refuse?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>inspecting him</i>). Acting surprise? no, genuine! My good -soul, are you so ignorant of the stage and the world, as not to know that I refuse such -offers as yours every week of my life? I have refused so many of them, that I assure you I -have begun to forget they are insults.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Insults, madam! They are the highest compliment you have left it in -our power to pay you.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Indeed! Oh, I take your meaning. To be your mistress could be but -a temporary disgrace; to be your wife might be a lasting discredit. Now sir, having played -your rival’s game——</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ah!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And exposed your own hand, do something to recover the reputation -of a man of the world. Leave the field before Mr. Vane can enjoy your discomfiture, for -here he comes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I leave you, madam, but remember, my discomfiture is neither your -triumph, nor your swain’s.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I do enjoy putting down these irresistibles.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Vane</i>, <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p class="noindent">At last! I have been here so long.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Alone?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. In company and solitude. What has annoyed you?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Nothing.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Never try to conceal anything from me. I know the map of your -face. These fourteen days you have been subject to some adverse influence; and to-day I -have discovered whose it is.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. No influence can ever shake yours.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Dear friend, for your own sake, not mine; trust your own heart, -eyes, and judgment.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. I do. I love you; your face is the shrine of sincerity, truth, and -candour. I alone know you: your flatterers do not—your detractors—oh! curse them!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You see what men are! Have I done ill to hide the riches of my -heart from the heartless, and keep them all for one honest man, who will be my friend, I -hope, as well as my lover?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Ah, that is my ambition.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. We actresses make good the old proverb, “Many lovers, but few -friends.” And oh! it is we who need a friend. Will you be mine?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. I will. Then tell me the way for me, unequal in wit and address to -many of your admirers, to win your esteem.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I will tell you a sure way; never act in my presence, never try to -be very clever or eloquent. Remember! I am the goddess of tricks: I can only love my -superior. Be honest and frank as the day, and you will be my superior; and I shall love -you, and bless the hour you shone on my artificial life.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Oh! thanks, thanks, for this, I trust, is in my power!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Mind—it is no easy task: to be my friend is to respect me, that I -may respect myself the more; to be my friend is to come between me and the temptations of -an unprotected life—the recklessness of a vacant heart.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. I will place all that is good about me at your feet. I will -sympathize with you when you are sad; I win rejoice when you are gay.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Will you scold me when I do wrong?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Scold you?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Nobody scolds me now—a sure sign nobody loves me. Will you scold -me?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>tenderly</i>). I will try! and I will be loyal and frank. You -will not hate me for a confession I make myself? (<i>agitated.</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I shall like you better—oh! so much better.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Then I will own to you——</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh! do not tell me you have loved others before me; I could not -bear to hear it.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. No—no—I never <i>loved</i> till now.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Let me hear that only. I am jealous even <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-15">[Pg 15]</a></span>of the past. Say you never loved but -me—never mind whether it is true—say so;—but it is true, for you do not yet know love. -Ernest, shall I make you love me, as none of your sex ever loved? with heart, and brain, -and breath, and life, and soul?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Teach me so to love, and I am yours for ever. (<i>Pause</i>) And -now you will keep your promise, to make me happy with your presence this morning at the -little festival I had arranged with Cibber and some of our friends of the theatre.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I shall have so much pleasure; but, <i>àpropos</i>, you must -include Snarl and Soaper in your list.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. What! the redoubtable Aristarchuses of the pit?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes. Oh, you don’t know the consequences of loving an actress. You -will have to espouse my quarrels, manage my managers, and invite my critics to dinner.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. They shall be invited, never fear.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And I’ve a trust for you; poor Triplet’s three tragedies. If they -are as heavy in the hearing as the carrying—— But here comes your rival, poor Pomander -(<i>crosses to</i> <small>L</small>.).</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Sir Charles</i>, <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p class="noindent">You will join our party at Mr. Vane’s, Sir Charles? You promised, you -know (<i>crosses to</i> <small>L</small>.).</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>coldly</i>). <i>Desolé</i> to forfeit such felicity; but I have -business.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>as he passes, crosses to</i> <small>C</small>.). By-the-bye, -Pomander, that answer to your letter to Mrs. Woffington?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. He has received it. <i>N’est ce pas</i>, Sir Charles? You see how -radiant it has made him! Ha! ha!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exeunt Woffington and Vane</i> -<small>L</small>. <small>H</small>.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Laughing devil! If you had wit to read beneath men’s surface, you -would know it is no jest to make an enemy of Sir Charles Pomander.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Hundsdon</i>, <small>R</small>.]</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Servant, Sir Charles.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ah, my yeoman pricker, with news of the mysterious Hebe of my -Barnet rencontre. Well, sirrah, you stayed by the coach as I bade you?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Yes, Sir Charles.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. And pumped the servants?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Yes, Sir Charles, till they swore they’d pump on me.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. My good fellow, contrive to answer my questions without punning, -will you?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Yes, Sir Charles.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. What did you learn from them? Who is the lady, their mistress?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. She is on her way to town to join her husband. They have only -been married a twelvemonth; and he has been absent from her half the time.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Good. Her name?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Vane.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Vane!</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Wife of Mr. Ernest Vane, a gentleman of good estate, Willoughby -Manor, Huntingdonshire.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. What!—What!—His wife, by heaven! Oh! here is a rare revenge. Ride -back, sirrah, and follow the coach to its destination.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. They took master for a highwayman. If they knew him as well as I -do, they wouldn’t do the road such an injustice.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>R</small>.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>with energy</i>). I’ll after them; and if I can but manage that -Vane shall remain ignorant of her arrival, I may confront Hebe with Thalia; introduce the -wife to the mistress under the husband’s roof. Aha! my Arcadian pair, there may be a guest -at your banquet you little expect, besides Sir Charles Pomander!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p class="description pad_top_one_em" id="Act_I_Sc_2"><a -href="#Act_I_Sc_2_toc">S<small>CENE</small> II.</a>—<i>A spacious and elegant Apartment in -the House of Mr. Vane, opening into a Garden formally planted, with Statues, &c. A -Table set for a collation, with Fruits, Flowers, Wine, and Plate. A Door</i> -<small>C</small>. <i>flat, communicating with Entrance Hall, other Doors</i> -<small>R</small>. <i>and</i> <small>L</small>. <i>Settees and high-backed Chairs, a Side -Table with Plate, Salvers, &c.</i></p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Colander discovered arranging table.</i>]</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. So! malmsey, fruit, tea, coffee, yes! all is ready against their -leaving the dining-room!</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter James Burdock, a salver with letters in his hand.</i>]</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Post letters, Master Colander.</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. Put ’em on the salver. (<i>Burdock does so.</i>) You may go, honest -Burdock—(<i>Burdock fidgets, turning the letters on the salver</i>) when I say you -<i>may</i> go—that means you <i>must;</i> the stable is your place when the family is not -in Huntingdonshire, and at present the family is in London.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. And I wish it was in Huntingdonshire, with the best part of it, and -that’s mistress. Poor thing! A twelvemonth married, and six months of it as good as a -widow.</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. We write to her, James, and receive her replies.</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Aye! but we don’t read ’em, it seems.</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. We intend to do so at our leisure—meanwhile we make ourselves happy -among the wits and the players.</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. And she do make others happy among the poor and the suffering.</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. James Burdock, property has its duties, as well as its rights. -Master enjoys the rights in town, and mistress discharges the duties in the country; ’tis -the division of labour—and now vanish, honest James, the company will be here directly, -and you know master can’t abide the smell of the stable (<i>crosses to</i> -<small>L</small>.).</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. But, Master Colander, do let him have this letter from missus -(<i>holds out the letter he has taken from the salver</i>).</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. James Burdock, you are incorrigible. Have I not given it to him -once already? and didn’t he fling it in my face and call me a puppy? I respect Mistress -Vane, James; but I must remember what’s due to myself—I shan’t take it.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Colander</i> -3 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Then I will—there! Poor dear lady! I can’t abear that her letters, -with her heart in ’em, I’ll be sworn, should lie unopened. Barnet post mark!—why, how can -that be? Well, it’s not my business. (<i>puts salver on table</i> -2 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.) Master shall have it <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-19">[Pg 19]</a></span>though (<i>hurried -knocking heard</i>). There goes that door, ah! I thought it wouldn’t be quiet long—what a -rake-helly place this London is!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Re-enter with Mrs. Vane in a hood and travelling dress.</i>]</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Stop! stop! I don’t think master can see you, young woman.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Why, James Burdock, have you forgotten your mistress? (<i>removes -her hood</i>)</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Mistress! why Miss Mabel—I ask your pardon, miss,—I mean, madam. -Bless your sweet face!—here, John, Thomas!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Hush!</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Lord, lord! come at last! oh! how woundy glad I am, to be sure—oh! -lord, lord, my old head’s all of a muddle with joy to see your kind face again.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. (<small>R</small>.) But Ernest—Mr. Vane, James, is he well—and -happy—and (<i>sees his change of face</i>)—Eh! he is well, James?</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Yes, yes, quite well, and main happy.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And is he very impatient to see me?</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Lord help her!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. But mind, James, not a word; he doesn’t expect me till six, and -’tis now scarce four. Oh! I shall startle him so!</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Yes, yes, madam; you’ll startle him woundily.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Oh! it will be so delightful to pop out upon him unawares—will it -not, James?</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Yes, Miss Mabel,—that is, madam; but hadn’t I better prepare him -like?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Not for the world. You know, James, <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-20">[Pg 20]</a></span>when one is wishing for any one very much, -the last hour’s waiting is always the most intolerable, so when he is most longing to see -me, and counting the minutes to six, I’ll just open the door, and steal behind him, and -fling my arms round his neck, and—but I shall be caught if I stay prattling here, and I -must brush the dust from my hair, and smooth my dress, or I shall not be fit to be seen; -so not a word to anybody, James, I insist, or I shall be angry. Where is my room? (<i>goes -to</i> 3 <small>E</small>. <small>R</small>. <i>and opens door</i>) Oh, -here!</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Your room, Miss Mabel; no! no! that is Mr. Vane’s room, Ma’am.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Well, Mr. Vane’s room is my room, I suppose (<i>pausing at -door</i>). He is not there, is he?</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. No, Ma’am, he is in the dining-room (<i>knock</i>). Anon! anon!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I fear my trunks will not be here in time for me to dress; but -Ernest will not mind. He will see my heart in my face, and forgive my travelling -sacque.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit into apartment</i> <small>R</small>. 2 -<small>E</small>.</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Poor thing! poor thing! (<i>knock</i>) there goes that door -again—darn me if I go till I’ve seen Colander. Anon,—Miss Mabel!—(<i>going to door -</i>3 <small>E</small>. <small>R</small>.).</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Hundsdon enters</i> -3 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. (<i>aside and looking at Burdock</i>). For all the world the twin -brother to those bumpkins behind Hebe’s coach. Well, my honest fellow!</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Well, my jack-a-dandy!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Can’st bring me Sir Charles Pomander hither, my honest -fellow?</p> - -<p>B<small>UR</small>. Here he’s a bringing himself, my jack-a-dandy.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>C</small>. <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. For so pretty a creature, she hath an establishment of the -veriest brutes. Ah! here comes Master!</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Sir Charles Pomander</i> -3 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Well! is she arrived?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. (<i>aside to Pom.</i>). I’ve marked her down, sir. She is here—in -that room.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Is her arrival known?</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. But to a rustic savage of a servant.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Good! Take thy sheep’s face out of sight, incontinently.</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Yes, Sir Charles.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Hold! I have kept thee sober for two days. Here’s for thee to make -a beast of thyself.</p> - -<p>H<small>UNDS</small>. Nay, I’ll disappoint him, and profit by sobriety.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> 3 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. So, the train is laid and I hold the match in my hand (<i>Colander -returns with servants, who bring tea, coffee, &c.</i>).</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Vane, Woffington, Quin, Clive, Cibber, Snarl and Soaper, as -from the dining-room, laughing.</i>]</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. I hate this detestable innovation of outlandish drawing-room -drinks—your tea and coffee—pshaw!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. But you forget the ladies, Mr. Quin, and <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-22">[Pg 22]</a></span>in the presence of Mr. Cibber too, whom I -cannot thank enough for the honor of this visit.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Nay, sir, I bring my wit in exchange for your wine; we barter our -respective superfluities.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Good wine is no superfluity, Mr. Cibber; ’tis a necessary of life, -just as much as good victuals.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. I vow Mr. Cibber is as lively as ever, and doesn’t look a day -older: does he, Mr. Snarl?</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. ’Tis that there’s no room on Mr. Cibber’s face for another -wrinkle.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. (<i>takes snuff</i>). Puppies!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Really this is too bad, the coffee is getting cold (<i>goes to -table</i>, <small>R</small>.).</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. So, no wonder Quin is getting warm—(<i>gives him coffee</i>). -Here, bear! (<i>Woffington presides over tea.</i>)</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. You have a charming house here, Mr. Vane, I knew it in poor dear -Lord Loungeville’s time. You may just remember him, Sir Charles?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I never read ancient history.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Puppy! An unrivalled gallant, Peggy. Oh the <i>petits soupers</i> -we have had here! Loungeville was a great creature, Sir Charles. I wish you may ever be -like him.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I sincerely trust not (<i>goes to table</i>, <small>C</small>.). I -do not feel at all anxious to figure in the museum of town antiquities—labelled, “Old -Beau, very curious.”</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Coxcomb! Let me tell you your old beaux were the -only ones worthy of winging the shafts from Cupid’s quiver.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Witness Mr. Cibber (<i>goes to table</i>, <small>C</small>.).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, Colley is like old port—the more <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-23">[Pg 23]</a></span>ancient he grows the more exquisite his -perfume becomes.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Capital! She alludes to Mr. Cibber’s pulvilio.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. And the crustier he gets.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Delicious! He alludes to Mr. Cibber’s little irritability.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Ah, laugh at us old fellows as you will, young people; but I have -known Loungeville entertain a fine lady in this very saloon, whilst a rival was fretting -and fuming on the other side of that door. Ha, ha! (<i>sighs.</i>) It is all over now.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Nay, Mr. Cibber, why assume that the house has lost its virtue in -our friend’s hands?</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Because, young gentleman, you all want <i>sçavoir faire;</i> the -fellows of the day are all either unprincipled heathens like you, or cold blooded -Amadisses like our host. The true <i>Preux des Dames</i> (<i>regretfully</i>) went out -with the full periwig, stap my vitals!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. A bit of toast, Mr. Cibber? (<i>goes to table.</i>)</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Jemmy, you are a brute.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. You refuse, Sir?</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. (<i>with dignity</i>). No, Sir, I accept.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Quin takes plate of toast to table</i>, <small>R</small>.)</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>goes to table</i>). You Antediluvians must not flatter -yourselves you have monopolized iniquity, or that the deluge washed away intrigue, and -that a rake is a fossil. We are still as vicious as you could desire, Mr. Cibber. What if -I bet a cool hundred round that Vane has a petticoat in the next room, and Mrs. Woffington -shall bring her out.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Pomander! (<i>checks himself</i>) but we all know Pomander.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Not yet, <i>but you shall.</i> Now don’t look so abominably -innocent, my dear fellow, I ran her to earth in this house not ten minutes ago.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Have her out, Peggy! I know the run—there’s the cover—Hark forward! -Yoicks! Ha, ha, ha! (<i>coughing</i>) Ho, ho!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Mr. Cibber, age and infirmity are privileged; but for you, Sir -Charles Pomander—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Don’t be angry. Do you not see it is a jest, and, as might be -expected, a sorry one?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. A jest; it must go no farther, or by Heaven!—</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Woffington places her hand on his shoulder—Mabel appears</i>, -<small>D</small>. <small>R</small>. 3 <small>E</small>.)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Ernest, dear Ernest!</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Woffington removes her hand quickly.</i>)</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Mabel!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I win (<i>a pause of silent amazement</i>).</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Vane looks round on the reverse side from Woffington.</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>aside to Vane</i>). Who is this?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. My—my wife!</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>All rise and bow. Colander places chair for Mrs. Vane.</i>)</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. ’Fore Gad! he is stronger than Loungeville.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. You are not angry with me for this silly trick? After all I am -but two hours before my time. You know, dearest, I said six in my letter.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Yes—yes!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And you have had three days to prepare you, for I wrote like a -good wife to ask leave before starting, ladies and gentlemen; but he never so much <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-25">[Pg 25]</a></span>as answered my letter, -madam (<i>to Woffington, who winces</i>).</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Why, you c—c—couldn’t doubt, Mabel? (<i>Cibber joins Snarl and -Soaper at table</i> <small>L</small>.)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. No, silence gives consent; but I beg your pardon, ladies -(<i>looking to Woffington</i>), for being so glad to see my husband.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. ’Tis a failing, madam, you will soon get over in town -(<i>laugh</i>).</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay, sir, I hope not; but I warrant me you did not look for me so -soon.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Some of us did not look for you at all.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. What! Ernest did not tell you he expected me?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No; he told us the entertainment was in honor of a lady’s first -visit to his house; but he did <i>not</i> tell us that lady was his wife.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>aside to Woff.</i>). Spare her!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>aside to Vane</i>). Have you spared me?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. No doubt he wished to procure us that agreeable surprise, which you -have procured him.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. And which he evidently enjoys so much.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Oh, evidently.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Cibber, Snarl, and Soaper, laugh, aside.</i></p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. You had better retire, Mabel, and change your travelling -dress.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay; you forget, I am a stranger to your friends. Will you not -introduce me to them first?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. No, no; it is not usual to introduce in the polite world.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. We always introduce ourselves (<i>rises</i>).</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>All come down except Vane and Quin.</i>]</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>aside to Woff.</i>). Madam, for pity’s sake!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. So, if you will permit me.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Now for the explosion!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>aside</i>). She will shew me no mercy.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>introducing Clive</i>). Lady Lurewell!</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Madam! (<i>She curtsies.</i>) If she had made me a commoner, I’d -have exposed her on the spot.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>introducing him</i>). Sir John Brute!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small> (<i>he comes forward, aside to Woff.</i>). Hang it! Falstaff!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Sir John Brute Falstaff! we call him for brevity, Brute.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Missed fire! Confound her ready wit.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>aside</i>). I breathe again.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. That is Lord Foppington (<i>crosses to Cibber</i>), a butterfly of -long standing and a little gouty. Sir Charles Pomander!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Who will spare you the trouble of a description (<i>crossing to -Mabel</i>), as he has already had the honour of avowing himself Mrs. Vane’s most humble -servant.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. How? (<i>Advances</i> <small>C</small>.)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. The good gentleman who helped my coach out of the slough -yesterday.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Ah! (<i>goes up to the table</i>, -<small>L</small>. <small>U</small>. <small>E</small>.)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Mr. Soaper, Mr. Snarl—gentlemen who would butter and cut up their -own fathers!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Bless me; cannibals!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>with a sweet smile</i>). No; critics.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. But yourself, madam?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>curtseying</i>). I am the Lady Betty Modish, at your -service.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small> (<i>aside to Quin</i>). And anybody else’s.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Oh dear, so many lords and ladies!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Pray go, and change your dress, Mabel.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. What! before you hear the news of dear Willoughby, Ernest? Lady -Betty, I had so many things to tell him, and he sends me away.</p> - -<p>C<small>IBBER</small>. Nay, really, ’tis too cruel.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Pray, madam, your budget of country news: clotted cream so seldom -comes to London quite fresh.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. There you see, Ernest. First, then, Grey Gillian is turned out -for a brood mare, so old George won’t let me ride her.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. The barbarian!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Old servants are such hard masters, my lady; and my Barbary hen -has laid two eggs, Ernest. Heaven knows the trouble we have had to bring her to it. And -dame Best (that’s his old nurse, Lady Lurewell) has had soup and pudding from the hall -every day.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Soup and pudding! that’s what I call true charity.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Yes; and once she went so far as to say, “it wasn’t altogether a -bad pudding.” I made it with these hands.</p> - -<p>C<small>IBBER</small>. Happy pudding!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Is this mockery, sir?</p> - -<p>C<small>IBBER</small>. No, sir, it is gallantry; an exercise that died before you were -born. Madam, shall I have the honour of kissing one of the fair hands that made that most -favoured of puddings?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Oh, my Lord, you may, because you are <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-28">[Pg 28]</a></span>so old; but I don’t say so for a young -gentleman, unless it was Ernest himself, and he doesn’t ask me.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>Cibber, Snarl, and Soaper go up.</i>]</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>angrily</i>). My dear Mabel, pray remember we are not at -Willoughby.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Now, bear, where’s your paw? (<i>going up</i> -<small>R</small>.)</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. All I regret is, that I go without having helped Mrs. Vane to -buttered toast.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Poor Quin, first to quit his bottle half finished, and now, to -leave the run of the table for a walk in the garden!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exeunt</i> -<small>U</small>. <small>E</small>. <small>R</small>.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Let me shew you to your apartment (<i>rings bell, leads her to -door</i> <small>R</small>.).</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Servant</i> <small>L</small>. <small>H</small>.]</p> - -<p class="noindent">Bid the musicians play.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Servant</i> <small>L</small>. <small>H</small>.</p> - -<p class="noindent">(<i>Vane offers his arm to Woff.</i>) Let me conduct you to the -garden.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>Music. Woffington gives her hand and goes off with Vane</i> -(<small>L</small>. <small>C</small>.): <i>in going out she looks back. -Music.</i>]</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Yes; there are triumphs out of the theatre.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit with Vane</i>, -<small>L</small>. <small>C</small>.</p> - -<p>C<small>IBBER</small> (<i>crosses to Mabel</i>). Mr. Vane’s garden will lack its -fairest flower, madam, if you desert us.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<small>R</small>.). Nay, my Lord, there are fairer here than -I.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>goes up to</i> <small>C</small>. <small>L</small>.) -Jealous, I see, already. Shall I tell her all? No; I will let the green-eyed monster -breach the fortress, and then I shall walk in without a contest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - -<p>C<small>IBBER</small> (<i>meeting Sir Charles at</i> -<small>C</small>. <small>L</small>.). Your arm, Sir Charles.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. At your service, Mr. Cibber.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exeunt Pomander and Cibber</i> -<small>U</small>. <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. A pleasant party, Mr. Soaper.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAPER</small>. Remarkably. Such a delightful meeting of husband and wife, Mr. -Snarl!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exeunt</i> <small>L</small>. <small>C</small>.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Music ceases.</i></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. How kind they all are to me, except him whose kindness alone I -value, and he must take Lady Betty’s hand instead of mine; but that is good breeding I -suppose. I wish there was no such thing as good breeding in London, any more than in -Huntingdonshire.</p> - -<p>C<small>OLANDER</small> (<i>without, angrily</i>, -<small>C</small>. <small>L</small>.) I tell you Mr. Vane is not at home.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. What is the matter?</p> - -<p class="direction">[<i>Triplet discovered attempting to force his way through -</i><small>L</small>. <small>C</small>. <i>Colander bars his entrance. Triplet -carries a portfolio, two volumes, and a roll of manuscript.</i>]</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. I tell you he is not at home, sir.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. How can you say so, when you know he is in the garden.</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. Ugh! (<i>aside</i>) the simpleton.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Show the gentleman in.</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. Gentleman!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. A thousand thanks, madam, for this condescension; I will wait Mr. -Vane’s leisure in the hall.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay, sir, not in the hall, ’tis cold there. Tell Mr. Vane the -gentleman waits. Will you go, sirrah?</p> - -<p>C<small>OL</small>. I am gone, madam. (<i>Aside</i>) Porter to <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-30">[Pg 30]</a></span>players! and now usher to an author! curse -me if I stand it.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> -<small>L</small>. <small>U</small>. <small>E</small>.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>advancing</i>). A thousand apologies, madam, for the trouble I -put you to. I—madam—you overwhelm me with confusion.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay—nay—be seated.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam, you are too condescending. (<i>Aside</i>) Who can she be? -(<i>Bows again and again.</i>)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay, sit down and rest you. (<i>Triplet bows, and sits on the -edge of a chair, with astonishment</i>). You look sadly adust and tired.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Why, yes, madam; it is a long way from Lambeth; and the heat is -surpassing (<i>takes his handkerchief out to wipe his brow: returns it somewhat hastily to -his pocket</i>). I beg your pardon, I forgot myself.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>aside</i>). Poor man, he looks sadly lean and hungry. And I’ll -be bound you came in such a hurry, you forgot—you mustn’t be angry with me—to have your -dinner first.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. How strange! Madam, you have guessed it. I did forget—he, he!—I -have such a head—not that I need have forgotten it—but being used to forget it, I did not -remember not to forget it to-day (<i>smiles absurdly</i>).</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>pours wine</i>). A glass of wine, sir?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>rising and bowing</i>). Nay, madam (<i>eyes the -wine—drinks</i>). Nectar, as I am a man. (<i>She helps him to refreshments</i>).</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Take a biscuit, sir?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>eating</i>). Madam, as I said before, you overwhelm me. -Walking certainly makes one hungry <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" -id="page-31">[Pg 31]</a></span>(<i>eats</i>). Oh, yes, it certainly does (<i>Mabel helps -him</i>); and though I do not usually eat at this time of the day. (<i>Mabel helps him -again.</i>)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I am sorry Mr. Vane keeps you waiting.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. By no means, Madam, it is very fortunate (<i>eats</i>)—I mean it -procures me the pleasure of (<i>eats</i>) your society. Besides, the servants of the Muse -are used to waiting. What we are not used to is (<i>she fills his glass</i>) being waited -on by Hebe and the Twelve Graces, whose health I have the honour!—Falernian, as I’m a -poet!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. A poet! (<i>clapping her hands.</i>) Oh, I am so glad! I never -thought to see a living poet; I do so love poetry!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Ha! it is in your face, madam. I should be proud to have your -opinion of this trifle composed by me for Mr. Vane, in honour of the lady he expected this -morning.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>aside</i>). Dear Ernest! how ungrateful I was. Nay, sir, I -think I know the lady; and it would be hardly proper for me to hear them.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>after placing the MS. by the side of his plate, with another -plate to keep it open; laying his hand on his heart</i>). Oh, strictly correct, Madam. -James Triplet never stooped to the loose taste of the town, even in trifles of this sort. -(<i>Reads</i>) “When first from Albion’s isle——”</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Take another glass of wine first.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam, I will (<i>drinks</i>). I thank you infinitely. -(<i>Reads</i>) “When first from Albion’s isle——”</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Another biscuit (<i>helps him</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam (<i>eats a mouthful</i>), you do me infinite <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-32">[Pg 32]</a></span>honour. (<i>Reads -again</i>) “When first from Albion’s isle——”</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. No—no—no! (<i>stops her ears.</i>) Mr. Vane intended them for a -surprise, and it would spoil his pleasure were I to hear them from you.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>sighs</i>). As you please, madam! But you would have liked -them, for the theme inspired me. The kindest, the most generous and gifted of women!—don’t -you agree with me, madam?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>laughs</i>). No, indeed!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Ah! if you knew her as I do.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I ought to know her better, sir.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Her kindness to me, for instance: a poor devil like me, if I may -be allowed the expression.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay, you exaggerate her trifling act of civility.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>reproachfully</i>). Act of civility, madam! Why she has saved -me from despair—from starvation perhaps.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>aside</i>). Poor thing! how hungry he must have been.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. And she’s to sit to me for her portrait, too.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Her portrait! (<i>aside.</i>) Oh, another attention of -Ernest’s—but I thought you were a poet, sir?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. So I am, madam, from an epitaph to an epic. Let me convince you. -(<i>Reads</i>) “When first from Albion’s isle——”</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. But you spoke just now of painting. Are you a painter too?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. From a scene to a sign-board; from a house-front to an historical -composition.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Oh, what a clever man! And so Ernest commissioned you to paint -this portrait?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No; for that I am indebted to the lady herself.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. The lady? (<i>Rises</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I expected to find her here;—perhaps you can inform me whether she -is arrived?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>aside</i>). Not my portrait after all. Who?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Woffington.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Woffington? No, there was no such name among the guests Mr. Vane -received to-day.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. That is strange! She was to be here; and therefore I expedited the -verses in her honour.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>ruefully</i>). In <i>her</i> honour?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Yes, Madam: the subject is “Genius trampling on Envy.” It -begins—(<i>reads</i>). “When first from Albion’s Isle——”</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Nay, I do not care to hear them, for I do not know the lady.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Few really know her; but at least you have seen her act.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Act! Is she an actress?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. <i>An</i> actress, madam! <i>The</i> Actress!—and you have never -seen her! Madam, you have a great pleasure before you; to see her act is a privilege, but -to act with her, as I once did, though she doesn’t remember it—I was hissed, madam, owing -to circumstances which for the credit of our common nature I suppress.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. An actor too!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. And it was in a farce of my own too, madam, which was -damned—accidentally.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And a play-writer?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Plays, madam! I have written a library of them; but the madmen who -manage the patent houses won’t act them and make their fortunes. You see in me a dramatic -gold mine, lost because no company will work me.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Yes, yes; but tell me! this actress:—Mr. Vane admires her?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mr. Vane is a gentleman of taste, madam.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And she was to have been here? There were none but persons of -quality—Ah! the news of my intended arrival—no doubt—well Mr.——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Triplet, madam! James Triplet, 10, Hercules Buildings, Lambeth: -occasional verses, odes, epithalamia, elegies, dedications, translations, and every -species of literary composition executed with spirit, punctuality, and secrecy. Portraits -painted, and lessons given in declamation and the dramatic art. The card, madam, -(<i>presents card</i>) of him, who, to all these qualifications adds a prouder still—that -of being your humble, devoted, and truly grateful servant—James Triplet (<i>bows and moves -off,—returns</i>). The fact is, madam, it may appear strange to you, but a kind hand has -not so often been held out to me, that I should forget it, especially when that hand is so -fair and gracious as yours. May I be permitted, madam? (<i>puts her hand to his lips</i>,) -you will impute it to gratitude rather than audacity—madam, I am gone—I flatter myself -James Triplet, throughout this charming interview, has conducted himself like what he may -not appear to be—a gentleman.—Madam, I take my final leave.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> 3 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Invite an actress to his house! but Ernest is so warm-hearted and -generous; no doubt ’tis as Mr. Triplet says; he has admired her acting and wished to mark -his sense of her merit by presenting her these verses, and a dinner.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Music.</i></p> - -<p class="noindent">These poor actors and actresses! I have seen some of them down in -Huntingdonshire, and I know what a kindness it is to give them a good meal. (<i>crosses -to</i> <small>L</small>.).</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Sir Charles Pomander</i>, -<small>L</small>. <small>C</small>. <i>down</i> <small>R</small>.]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. What, madam, all alone, here as in Huntingdonshire! Force of habit. -A husband with a wife in Huntingdonshire is so like a bachelor.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Sir!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. And our excellent Ernest is such a favourite.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. No wonder.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. There are not many who can so pass in six months from the larva -state of Bumpkin to the butterfly existence of Beau.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Music ceases.</i></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Yes; (<i>sadly</i>) I find him changed.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Changed? transformed! He is now the prop of the Cocoa-tree—the star -of Ranelagh—the Lauzum of the Green Room.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. The green room?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ah, I forgot! you are fresh from Eden; the Green Room, my dear -madam, is the bower where fairies put off their wings and goddesses become dowdies—where -Lady Macbeth weeps over her lap-dog’s indigestion, and Belvidera groans over the amount of -her last milliner’s bill. In a word, the Green Room is the place where actors and -actresses become mere men and women, and the name is no doubt derived <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-36">[Pg 36]</a></span>from the general -character of its unprofessional visitors.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And is it possible that Ernest, Mr. Vane, frequents such -places?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. He has earned in six months a reputation that many a fine gentleman -would give his ears for—not a scandalous journal he has not figured in—not an actress of -reputation or no reputation, but gossip has given him for a conquest.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. You forget, sir, you are speaking to his wife.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. On the contrary, madam; but you would be sure to learn this, and it -is best you should learn it at once and from a friend.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Is it the office of a friend to calumniate the husband to the -wife?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. When he admires the wife, he reprobates the husband’s ill-taste in -neglecting her.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Do you suppose I did not know of his having invited Mrs. -Woffington to his house to day?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. What! you found her out? you detected the Actress-of-all-work under -the airs of Lady Betty Modish.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Lady Betty Modish!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Yes; that was La Woffington.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Whom he had invited hither to present her with a copy of -verses.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Et cetera.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And who in an actress’s sudden frolic, gave herself and her -companions those titles without my husband’s connivance.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Vane could not have explained it half so well. These women are -incredibles.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Had the visit been in any other character, do you think he would -have chosen for it the day of my arrival?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Certainly not, if he knew you were coming.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And he did know; why here (<i>seeing letters on table</i> -<small>L</small>.) are my letters announcing my intention to start—my progress on the -road—the last written from Barnet, only yesterday.</p> - -<p class="direction pad_top_half_em pad_bottom_half_em">[<i>While speaking she has gone to -the salver, and hastily taken the letters, which she offers Pomander with triumph. He -takes them with an uncertain air, looks at them—gives them back to her—after a -pause—</i></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>coolly</i>). The seals have not been broken, Madam.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>bursting into tears</i>). Unopened! It is too true! Flung -aside unread! and I have learned by heart every word he ever wrote to me. Sir, you have -struck down the hope and trust of my life without remorse. May heaven forgive you!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Madam! let me, who have learned to adore you——</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I may no longer hold a place in my husband’s heart—but I am still -mistress of his house—leave it, Sir!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Your wishes are my law (<i>going</i>),—but here they come! -(<i>crosses to</i> <small>L</small>.) Use the right of a wife, watch them unseen, and you -will soon learn whether I am mistaken, or you misinformed.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>violently</i>). No! I will not dog my husband’s steps at the -bidding of his treacherous friend (<i>watches Pomander out</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>aside</i>). She will watch them.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit.</i></p> - -<p class="direction pad_top_half_em pad_bottom_half_em">[<i>After a moment or two of -irresolution, Mabel crouches down behind a chair. Enter Vane</i> -<small>C</small>. <small>L</small>. <i>conducting Woffington: they pass without -observing Mabel.</i>]</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. But one word—I can explain all. Let me accompany you to this -painter’s. I am ready to renounce credit—character—wife—all for you!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I go alone, sir. Call Mrs. Woffington’s coach.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Woff. followed by Vane.</i></p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>starting from seat</i>). Oh, no, no!—you cannot use me so. -Ernest! Husband! (<i>tries to rush towards</i> <small>L</small>. <small>D</small>. -<i>Swoons. Vane returns.</i>)</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Who called me? Mabel—my wife! (<i>stamps</i>) help, here!—what -have I done? (<i>He raises her in his arms.</i>)</p> - -<p class="end_of_act">[<small>END OF ACT I.</small>]</p> -</div> - -<div class="chapter" id="Act_Two"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> - -<h4 class="act_2" id="Act_II"><a href="#Act_II_toc">ACT II.</a></h4> - -<p class="description">S<small>CENE</small>.—<i>A large roughly furnished Garret. Easel -with Woffington’s Picture on it, half concealed by a green baize Drapery. Colours, -Palette, Pencils, Maulstick, &c. &c. Mrs. Triplet reclining in a large chair, and -wrapped up like an invalid. Violin hanging against wall. Triplet seated at small Table -writing. Two Children. Wooden Chairs. Boy is rocking Cradle and singing.</i></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Do keep those children quiet, Jane.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Hush, my dears, let your father write his comedy. Comedy seems -so troublesome to write.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Yes! somehow sorrow comes more natural to me! (<i>pause</i>) I’ve -got a bright thought; you see, Jane, they are all at a sumptuous banquet: all the Dramatis -Personæ except the poet, (<i>writes</i>) music—sparkling wine—massive -plate—soups—fish—shall I have three dishes of fish? venison—game—pickles and provocatives -in the centre, then up jumps one of the guests, and says he—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. Oh, dear! I am so hungry!</p> - -<p>G<small>IRL</small>. And so am I.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. That is an absurd remark, Lysimachus, not four hours after -breakfast.</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. But father—there wasn’t any breakfast for breakfast!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Now I ask you, Mrs. Triplet—how am I to write comic scenes, if you -let Lysimachus and Roxalana there put the heavy business in every five minutes?</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Forgive them, the poor things <i>are</i> hungry!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Then they must learn to be hungry in another room. They shan’t -cling round my pen and paralyze it, just when it is going to make all our fortunes -(<i>rises</i>); but you women have no consideration—send ’em all to bed, every man Jack of -’em (<i>children raise a doleful cry</i>). Hungry! hungry! Is that a proper expression to -use before a father who is sitting down (<i>seats himself</i>), all gaiety—and hilarity to -write a Com— a Com— (<i>chokes</i>)? Where’s the youngest—where’s Cleopatra? (<i>Mrs. T. -brings child to him—he takes her on his knee.</i>)</p> - -<p>G<small>IRL</small>. Father, I’m not so very hungry!</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small> (<i>who has come to his Father</i>). And I’m not hungry at all—I had -a piece of bread and butter yesterday!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Wife; they’ll drive me mad!</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small> (<i>sotto voce</i>). Mother; father made us hungry out of his -book.</p> - -<p>G<small>IRL</small>. Is it a cookery book, father?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Ha! ha! is my comedy a cookery book? <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-41">[Pg 41]</a></span>The young rogues say more good things than -I do—that is the worst of it. Wife, I took that sermon I wrote—</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. And beautiful it was, James.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I took it to the Reverend Gentleman, and he would not have it, he -said it was too hard upon sin for the present day (<i>dashes at the paper</i>). Ah! if my -friend Mrs. Woffington would but leave this stupid comedy and take to tragedy, things -would smile again.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Oh, James, how can you expect anything from that woman? You -won’t believe what all the world says—you measure folk by your own good heart.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I haven’t a good heart, I spoke like a brute to you just now.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Never mind, James, I wonder how you put up with me at all! a -sick useless creature. I often wish to die, for your sake—I know you would do better—I am -such a weight round your neck. (<i>Triplet takes Mrs. T. to chair—then returns with energy -to his comedy—boy brings violin.</i>)</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. Play us a tune on the fiddle, father!</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Ay do, husband! that often helps you in your writing. -(<i>Triplet plays a merry tune dolefully.</i>)</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. It won’t do, music must be in the heart, or it will never come out -of the fingers (<i>puts fiddle down—boy takes it and puts it in the cradle</i>). No! let -us be serious and finish the comedy—perhaps it hitches because I forgot to invoke -Thalia—the Muse of Comedy, Mrs. Triplet; she must be a black-hearted jade if she won’t -lend a broad grin <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-42">[Pg -42]</a></span>to a poor devil starving in the middle of his hungry little ones.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Heathen goddesses can’t help us. We had better pray to heaven to -look down on us and our children.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>sullenly</i>). You forget, Mrs. Triplet, that our street is -very narrow, and the opposite houses are very high.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. James!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. How can heaven see an honest man and his family in such an -out-of-the-way place as this.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Oh! what words are these?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Have we given honesty a fair trial? yes or no (<i>walking in great -agitation</i>)!</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. No, not till we die as we have lived.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I <i>suppose</i> heaven is just, I can’t <i>know</i> it, till it -sends me an angel to take my children’s part; they cry to me for bread, I have nothing to -give them but hard words. God knows it has taken a great deal to break my heart, but it is -broken at last, broken—broken—(<i>he sobs with head on his hands on table</i>).</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Woffington speaking</i>, -<small>L</small>. <small>D</small>.]</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Wasn’t somebody inquiring after an angel? Here I am!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Woffington!</p> - -<p class="direction">[<i>Woff. seeing Triplet’s distress, retreats; but presently comes -back.</i>]</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. See (<i>shows him letter</i>). “Madam, you are an angel;” from a -gentleman, a perfect stranger to me, so it must be correct (<i>enter Pompey with a -basket</i>). Ah! here is another angel! there are two sorts you <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-43">[Pg 43]</a></span>know, angels of light and angels of -darkness (<i>takes basket from Pompey</i>). Lucifer, avaunt! (<i>in a terrible tone</i>) -and wait outside the door (<i>in a familiar tone. Exit Pompey</i>). (<i>Aside.</i> They -are in sore distress, poor things!) I am sorry you are ill, Mrs. Triplet! I have brought -you some physic—black draught from Burgundy (<i>Mrs. Triplet attempts to rise but sinks -back again</i>). Don’t move, I insist!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Oh, Mrs. Woffington, had I dreamed you would deign to come -here,—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You would have taken care to be out. (<i>Aside.</i> Their faces -look pinched, I know what that means.) Mrs. Triplet, I have come to give your husband a -sitting for my portrait, will you allow me to eat my little luncheon in your room? I am so -hungry. Pompey! (<i>Pompey runs in</i>) run to the corner and buy me that pie I took such -a fancy to as we came along (<i>gives money to Pompey. Exit Pompey</i> -2 <small>E</small>. <small>L</small>.).</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. Mother, will the lady give me a bit of her pie?</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Hush, you rude boy!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. She is not much of a lady if she doesn’t! Now children, we’ll -first look at father’s comedy. Nineteen dramatis personæ,—cut out seven. Don’t bring your -armies into <i>our</i> drawing-rooms, Mr. Dagger and Bowl: can you marshal battalions on a -Turkey carpet, and make gentlefolks witty in platoons? What’s here in the first act? A -duel! and both wounded—you butcher!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>deprecatingly</i>). They are not to die, they shan’t die, upon -my honour!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Do you think I’ll trust their lives with <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-44">[Pg 44]</a></span>you? I’ll show you how to run people -through the body (<i>takes pen, writes</i>). Business, “Araminta looks out of garret -window, the combatants drop their swords, put their hands to their hearts, and stagger -off, <small>O</small>. <small>P</small>. and <small>P</small>. <small>S</small>.” Now -children! who helps me lay the cloth?</p> - -<p>C<small>HIL</small>. I, and I! (<i>they run to dresser.</i>)</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. (<i>half rising</i>). Madam, I can’t think of allowing you.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Sit down ma’am, or I must use brute force (<i>in Mrs. T’s -ear</i>): shake hands with distress, for it shall never enter your door again.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Mrs. T. clasps her hands.</i></p> - -<p class="noindent">(<i>Woff. meets the children with the tablecloth, which she lays.</i>) -Twelve plates, quick! twenty-four knives, quicker! forty-eight forks, quickest.</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Pompey, who sets pie on table, and exit, looking wistfully -at it.</i>]</p> - -<p class="noindent">Mr. Triplet,—your coat, if you please,—and carve.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. My coat, madam!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes; off with it, there’s a hole in it (<i>Triplet, with signs of -astonishment, gives her his coat, then carves pie: they eat. Woff. seats herself</i>). Be -pleased to cast your eye on that, ma’am (<i>boy passes housewife to Mrs. Triplet</i>). -Woffington’s housewife, made by herself, homely to the eye, but holds everything in the -world, and has a small space left for everything else; to be returned by the bearer. Thank -you, sir! (<i>stitches away very rapidly</i>) Eat away; children, when once I begin the -pie will soon end; (<i>girl takes plate to her mother</i>), I do everything so quick.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<p>G<small>IRL</small>. The lady sews faster than you, mother.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Bless the child, don’t come near my sword-arm, the needle will go -into your eye, and out at the back of your head (<i>children laugh</i>). The needle will -be lost, the child will be no more, enter undertaker, house turned topsyturvy, father -shows Woffington the door, off she goes, with a face as long and as dull as papa’s comedy, -crying, “Fine Chaney o-ran-ges!”</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>The children laugh heartily.</i></p> - -<p>G<small>IRL</small>. Mother! the lady is very funny!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You’ll be as funny when you’re as well paid for it.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>Triplet chokes with laughing, and lays down knife and -fork.</i>]</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. James, take care!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. There’s the man’s coat, (<i>aside</i>) with a ten pound note in -it.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Girl takes it to Triplet.</i></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. My wife is a good woman, ma’am, but deficient in an important -particular.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. Oh, James!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Yes, my dear, I regret to say you have <i>no sense of humour:</i> -no more than a cat, Jane.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. What! because the poor thing can’t laugh at your comedy?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No ma’am, but she laughs at nothing.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Try her with one of your tragedies!</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. I am sure, James, if I don’t laugh, it is not for the want of -the will. (<i>Dolefully</i>) I used to be a very hearty laugher; but I haven’t laughed -this two years (<i>Woffington leads Mrs. T. to chair</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, you haven’t, haven’t you? Then the next two years you shall do -nothing else.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Oh, madam, that passes the talent even of the great comedian.</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. <i>She</i> is not a comedy lady.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Hallo!</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. You don’t ever cry, pretty lady.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>ironically</i>). Of course not.</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small> (<i>confidentially</i>). Comedy is crying. Father cries all the time -he writes his comedy.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Hold your tongue. They were tears of laughter, you know, ma’am. -Wife, our children talk too much; they thrust their noses into everything, and criticise -their own father.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Unnatural offspring!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. And when they take up a notion, the devil himself couldn’t -convince them to the contrary; for instance, all this morning they thought fit to assume -that they were starving.</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. So we were till the angel came, and the devil went for the pie.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. There, there, there, there! now, you mark my words, Jane, we shall -never get that idea out of their heads——</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Till we (<i>cuts a large piece of pie, and puts on child’s -plate</i>) put a different idea into their stomachs. Come, <i>trinquons!</i> as they do in -France (<i>fills glasses, and touches hers with those of the children, who crowd round her -with delight</i>). Were you ever in France, Triplet?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No, madam, I am thoroughly original.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. That’s true. Well, I went there once to learn tragedy of the great -Dumesnil (<i>recites a couple</i> <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" -id="page-47">[Pg 47]</a></span><i>of lines of tragedy à la Française</i>). But Peg -Woffington was never meant to walk the stage on stilts;—no, let Mrs. Pritchard pledge -Melpomene in her own poison-bowl, I’ll give you Thalia in a bumper of Burgundy. Come, -drink to your new mistress, Triplet (<i>fills her glass</i>). Mrs. Triplet (<i>she rises, -bottle and glass in hand</i>), I must prescribe for you too. A wine glassful of this -<i>elixir</i> six times a day till further notice. Success to your husband’s comedy! -What’s this? (<i>Sees fiddle in cradle</i>). A fiddle, as I’m an ex-orange wench! -(<i>Giving it to Triplet.</i>) Here, Triplet, a jig—a jig. (<i>Triplet takes fiddle.</i>) -Peggy has not forgotten how to cover the buckle. Come, young ones—(<i>Triplet plays. She -dances a jig with the children</i>)—more power to your elbow, man—shake it, ye sowl! -Hurroo! (<i>She dances up to Triplet, who, in his excitement, rises and joins in the jig, -while Mrs. Triplet follows their movements with her body.</i>) But come, Mr. Triplet, you -really shan’t make me play the fool any longer. Business!—my picture is to be finished. -Mrs. Triplet, we must clear the studio:—take your cherubs into the bed-room.</p> - -<p>M<small>RS</small>. T. (<i>seizes her hand</i>). Oh, madam! may the blessings of a -mother watch over you in life and after it, and the blessings of these innocents too!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Pooh! pooh! let me kiss the brats (<i>kisses them</i>). -(<i>Aside.</i> Poor things!)</p> - -<p>B<small>OY</small>. I shall pray for you after father and mother.</p> - -<p>G<small>IRL</small>. I shall pray for you after daily bread, because we were so hungry -till you came.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>putting them off</i>). There, there. Exeunt mother and -cherubs. Music for the exit, Trippy—the <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" -id="page-48">[Pg 48]</a></span>merriest you can extort from that veteran Stradivarius of -yours. (<i>Aside.</i> Heaven knows I’ve as much need of merry music as the saddest of -them) (<i>sees Triplet overcome</i>). Why, how now? If there isn’t this kind-hearted, -soft-headed, old booby of a Triplet making a picture of himself in water colours. (<i>Goes -up to him—taps him on the arm</i>). Come! to work—to work, and with a will, for I have -invited Cibber, and Quin, and Clive, and Snarl, Soaper and all, to see the portrait, which -is to make your fortune and hand me down to posterity not half as handsome as nature made -me. There (<i>sits</i>), I must put on my most bewitching smile of course. (<i>Aside</i>) -Oh, dear! how it belies my poor aching heart.</p> - -<p class="direction">[<i>Triplet, during this, has got his palette and pencil, set his -easel, and begun to work, while Woffington sits.</i>]</p> - -<p class="noindent">Well, are you satisfied with it?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Anything but, madam (<i>paints</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Cheerful soul! then I presume it is like.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Not a bit. (<i>Woffington stretches.</i>) You must not yawn, -ma’am—you must not yawn just now!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, yes, I must, if you will be so stupid.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I was just about to catch the turn of the lip.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Well, catch it, it won’t run away.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. A pleasant half-hour it will be for me, when all your friends come -here, like cits at a shilling ordinary, each for his cut. Head a little more that way. -(<i>Sadly</i>) I suppose you can’t sit quiet, Madam; then never mind. Look on this picture -and on that!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Meaning, that I am painted as well as my picture.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Oh, no, no, no! but to turn from your face, on which the lightning -of expression plays continually, to this stony, detestable, dead daub: I could—(<i>seizes -palette-knife</i>)—miserable mockery! vile caricature of life and beauty! take that! -(<i>dashes the knife through picture.</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh! right through my pet dimple! Hark! I hear the sound of -coaches—the hour of critique approaches!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Two coach loads of criticism, and the picture ruined!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>reflecting</i>). I’ll give you a lesson—your palette-knife -(<i>cuts away face of the picture</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. There will be Mr. Cibber with his sneering snuff-box; Mr. Quin -with his humourous bludgeon; Mrs. Clive with her tongue; Mr. Snarl with his abuse; and Mr. -Soaper with his praise!—but I deserve it all!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. That green baize—(<i>gets behind easel</i>)—fling it over the -easel—so; and now (<i>shewing her face through the picture</i>) you shall criticise -criticism, and learn the true weight of goose’s feathers.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Triplet throws the baize over the picture.</i>)</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Cibber, Clive, Quin, Snarl, and Soaper. Triplet bows humbly. -They return his salute carelessly.</i>]</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Ough! Four pair of stairs!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Well, where’s the picture? (<i>crossing to</i> -<small>R</small>. <small>H</small>. <i>with Clive.</i>)</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>They take up positions to look at it.</i>)</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Woffington, gentlemen!</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Triplet removes the baize and suppresses a start.</i>)</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Ah!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Umph!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Ho!</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Eh?</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Ah!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Whose portrait did you say?</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. He, he! Peg Woffington’s—it’s a pretty head enough, and not a bit -like Woffington.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Nay—compare paint with paint, Kitty—who ever saw Woffington’s real -face?</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Now, I call it beautiful; so smooth, polished, and uniform.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Whereas nature delights in irregular and finely graduated -surfaces. Your brush is not destitute of a certain crude talent, Mr. Triplet, but you are -deficient in the great principles of Art; the first of which is a loyal adherence to -truth; beauty itself is but one of the forms of truth, and nature is our finite exponent -of infinite truth.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. What wonderful criticism! One quite loses oneself among such grand -words!</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Yes, yes! proceed Mr. Snarl. I am of your mind.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Now in nature, a woman’s face at this distance, has a softness of -outline—(<i>draws back and makes a lorgnette of his two hands, the others do the -same</i>), whereas your work is hard and tea-boardy.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Well it is a <i>leetle tea-boardy</i>, perhaps. But the light and -shade, Mr. Snarl—! the—what-d’ye-call—the—um—you know—eh?</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Ah! you mean the chiaroscuro.</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. Exactly!</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. The chiaroscuro is all wrong. In nature, <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-51">[Pg 51]</a></span>the nose, intercepting the light on one -side the face, throws a shadow under the eye. Caravaggio, the Venetians, and the -Bolognese, do particular justice to this—no such shade appears in your portrait.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. ’Tis so—stap my vitals!</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>All express assent except Soaper.</i>)</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. But, my dear Mr. Snarl, if there are no shades, there are -lights—loads of lights.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. There are, only they are impossible (<i>superciliously</i>). You -have, however, succeeded tolerably in the mechanical parts—the dress, for example; but -your Woffington is not a woman, Sir—nor nature!</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>All shake their heads in assent.</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<small>C</small>.) Woman! for she has tricked four men; nature! -for a fluent dunce does not know her when he sees her!</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Why—what the deuce?</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Woffington!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Pheugh!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>steps out of picture</i>). A pretty face, and not like -Woffington! I owe you two, Kitty Clive.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Mrs. Clive bridles.</i>)</p> - -<p class="noindent">(<i>to Quin</i>). Who ever saw Peggy’s real face? Look at it now if -you can without blushing.</p> - -<p>A<small>LL</small> (<i>except Snarl</i>). Ha! ha!</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. For all this, I maintain on the unalterable rules of art——</p> - -<p>A<small>LL</small>. Ha! ha! ha!</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small> (<i>fiercely</i>). Goths! (<i>Quin and Cibber turn up stage -laughing</i>). Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Good morning, Mr. Snarl!</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. I have a criticism to write of last night’s <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-52">[Pg 52]</a></span>performance. I shall sit -on your pictures one day, Mr. Brush.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>crosses to Snarl</i>). Pictures are not eggs, Sir—they are not -meant to be sat upon.</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. Come, Soaper!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit.</i></p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. You shall always have my good word, Mr. Triplet.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I will try and not deserve it, Mr. Soaper!</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. At your service, Mr. Snarl!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit.</i></p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Serve ’em right—a couple of serpents! or rather one -boa-constrictor—Soaper slavers, for Snarl to crush (<i>crosses to</i> <small>L</small>.). -But we were all too hard on poor Trip: and if he will accept my apology——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Thank you! “Colley Cibber’s Apology” can be got at any -book-stall.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Confound his impertinence! Come along, Jemmy!</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. If ever you paint my portrait——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. The bear from Hockley Hole shall sit for the head.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. Curse his impudence! Have with you, Mr. Cibber.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exeunt Cibber and Quin</i>, -<small>L</small>. <small>D</small>.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. I did intend to have my face painted, sir, but after this——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. You will continue to do it yourself!</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Brute!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit in a rage</i>, -<small>L</small>. <small>D</small>.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Did I show a spirit, or did I not, ma’am?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Tremendous!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Did you mark the shot I fired into each as he sheered off?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Terrific!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I defy them! the coxcombs! as for real <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-53">[Pg 53]</a></span>criticism, I invite it. Yours for instance, -or that sweet lady’s I met at Mr. Vane’s, or anybody that appreciates one’s beauties. -By-the-bye, you were not at Mr. Vane’s yesterday?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes, I was!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No! I came with my verses, but she said you were not there.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Who said so?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. The charming young lady who helped me with her own hand to nectar -and ambrosia.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. A young lady?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. About twenty-two.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. In a travelling dress?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Yes—brown hair—blue eyes! I poured out all to her;—that I expected -to find you; that Mr. Vane admired you; and that you were sitting to me for your portrait; -that I lived at 10, Hercules Buildings, and should be proud to show her the picture for -her judgment.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You told her all this?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I did. Do you know her?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Who is she?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Mrs. Vane.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Vane! Mr. Vane’s mother? No—no! that can’t be!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Mr. Vane’s wife!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Wife?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Then she wasn’t to know you were there?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Then I let the cat out of the bag?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. And played the devil with their married happiness?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Probably. (<i>turns her back on him</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Just my luck! Oh! Lord, Lord! To see what these fine gentlemen -are! to have a lawful wife at home, and then to come and fall in love with you! <i>I</i> -do it for ever in my plays, it is all right there!—but in real life it is abominable!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You forget, sir, that I am an actress!—a plaything for every -profligate who can find the open sesame of the stage-door. Fool! to think there was an -honest man in the world, and that he had shone on me!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Woffington!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. But what have we to do (<i>walks agitated</i>) with homes, and -hearths, and firesides? Have we not the theatre, its triumphs, and full-handed thunders of -applause? Who looks for hearts beneath the masks we wear? These men applaud us, cajole us, -swear to us, lie to us, and yet, forsooth, we would have them respect us too.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>fiercely</i>). They shall respect you before James Triplet. A -great genius like you, so high above them all!—my benefactress (<i>whimpers</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>taking his hand</i>). I thought this man truer than the rest. -I did not feel his passion an insult. Oh! Triplet, I could have loved this man—really -loved him!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Then you don’t love him?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Love him! I hate him, and her, and all the world!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. You will break with him then?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Break with him! No! I will feed his passion to the full—tempt -him—torture him—play with him, as the angler plays the fish upon his hook! He shall rue -the hour he trifled with a heart and brain like mine!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. But his poor wife?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. His wife! and are wives’ hearts the only hearts that throb, and -feel, and break? His wife must take care of herself, it is not from me that mercy can come -to her.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. But madam—(<i>a knock at door</i>). Who’s this at such a moment -(<i>he goes to the window</i>)! ’Tis a lady! Eh! cloaked and hooded. Who can she -be? Perhaps a sitter! My new profession has transpired!</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>A tap at room-door. Enter a slatternly servant, who hands a -paper.</i>]</p> - -<p>S<small>ERV</small>. From a lady who waits below.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>reads and drops the paper</i>). “Mabel Vane!”</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. His wife here! (<i>To servant</i>) Shew the lady up stairs!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit Servant.</i></p> - -<p class="noindent">What does she come here for?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I don’t know, and I wish to heaven she had stayed away! You will -retire, of course you will retire?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No, sir! I will know why she comes to you (<i>reflects, enters the -picture again</i>). Keep it from me if you can!</p> - -<p class="direction_c">[<i>Triplet sinks into a chair, the picture of -consternation.</i>]</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>with a ghastly smile, going very slowly towards the door</i>). -I am going to be in the company of the <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" -id="page-56">[Pg 56]</a></span>two loveliest women in England; I would rather be between a -lion and a unicorn—like the royal arms.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>A tap at the door.</i></p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Mabel Vane in hood and cloak, a mask in her hand.</i>]</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>crosses to</i> <small>R</small>. <i>hastily</i>). See first -that I am not followed; that man who pursued me from my husband’s house,—look out.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>looking through window</i>). Sir Charles Pomander! he examines -the house—his hand is on the knocker—no! he retires! (<i>he rids her of her hood, mantle, -mask, &c.</i>)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I breathe again (<i>hastily</i>). Mr. Triplet, you said I might -command your services.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>bows</i>).</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. You know this actress you spoke of to-day, Mrs. Woffington?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). Curse it! I am honoured by her acquaintance, -madam!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. You will take me to her, to the theatre where she acts?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. But consider, madam!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. You must not refuse me.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. But what can be the use of it?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I am sure you are true and honest—I will trust you (<i>Trip. -bows</i>). When you saw me yesterday, I was the happiest woman in the world, for I love my -husband; and I thought then he loved me as he used to do. Two days ago I left our country -home—I yearned to be by my husband’s side; <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" -id="page-57">[Pg 57]</a></span>I counted the hours of the journey, the miles, the yards of -the road—I reached his house at last—to find that the heart, on which I had so longed to -rest my head, was mine no longer.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Poor thing! poor thing!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. And she who held my place, was the woman—the actress you so -praised to me; and now you pity me, do you not; and will not refuse my request?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. But be advised;—do not think of seeking Mrs. Woffington; she has a -good heart, but a fiery temper; besides, good heavens! you two ladies are rivals. Have you -read the Rival Queens, Madam?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I will cry to her for justice and mercy;—I never saw a kinder -face than this lady’s—she must be good and noble!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. She is! I know a family she saved from starvation and despair.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small> (<i>seeing Woff. in the picture</i>). Ah! she is there! see! see! -(<i>she approaches the easel</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>interposing</i>). Oh, my portrait! you must not go near that, -the colours are wet!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Oh, that she were here, as this wonderful portrait is; and then -how I would plead to her for my husband’s heart! (<i>she addresses the supposed -picture</i>). Oh, give him back to me! what is one more heart to you? you are so rich, and -I am so poor, that without his love I have nothing; but must sit me down and cry till my -heart breaks—give him back to me, beautiful, terrible, woman; for with all your gifts you -cannot love him as his poor Mabel does. Oh, give him back to me—and I will love you and -<span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-58">[Pg 58]</a></span>kiss your feet, -and pray for you till my dying day (<i>kneels to her and sobs</i>). Ah!—a tear! it is -alive! (<i>runs to Triplet and hides her head</i>) I am frightened! I am frightened!</p> - -<p class="direction">[<i>Woffington steps out of frame and stands with one hand on her -brow, in a half-despairing attitude. She waves her hand to Triplet to retire—Mabel stands -trembling.</i>]</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. We would be alone.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>in consternation</i>). But, Mrs. Woffington, but, ladies!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Leave us!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I will retire into my sleeping apartment (<i>retires into inner -room</i> <small>R</small>. <small>H</small>., <i>and puts out his head</i>). Be -composed, ladies. Neither of you could help it.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Leave us, I say! (<i>he vanishes suddenly</i>).</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>A long uneasy pause.</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>with forced coldness</i>). At least, madam, do me the justice -to believe I did not know Mr. Vane was married.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I am sure of it—I feel you are as good as you are gifted.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Mrs. Vane, I am not—you deceive yourself.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Then, heaven have mercy on me! but you are—I see it in your face, -ah! you know you pity me!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I do, madam—and I could consent never more to see your—Mr. -Vane.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Ah, but will you give me back his heart? What will his presence -be to me if his love remain behind?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. But, how, madam?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. The magnet can repel as well as attract—you who can enchant—can -you not break your own spell?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. You ask much of me!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Alas, I do!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. But I could do even this.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. You could!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And perhaps if you—who have not only touched my heart, but won my -respect, say to me—“do so,” I shall do it (<i>Mabel clasps her hands</i>). There is only -one way—but that way is simple. Mr. Vane thinks better of me than I deserve—I have only to -make him (<i>with a trembling lip</i>) believe me worse than I am, and he will return to -you, and love you better, far better, for having known, admired, and despised, Peg -Woffington.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Oh! I shall bless you every hour of my life (<i>pause</i>). But -rob you of your good name! bid a woman soil her forehead so for me! (<i>sighs, long -pause</i>) With heaven’s help I do refuse your offer; it is better I should die with my -heart crushed, but my conscience unstained; for so my humble life has passed till now.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Humble! such as you are the diamonds of the world!!! Angel of -truth and goodness, you have conquered! The poor heart we both overrate shall be your’s -again. In my hands ’tis painted glass at best—but set in the lustre of your love, it may -become a priceless jewel. Can you trust me?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. With my life!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And will you let me call you friend?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Friend! no—not friend!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Alas!</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Let me call you sister? I have no sister! (<i>timidly and -pleadingly</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Sister! oh, yes! call me sister! (<i>they embrace</i>) You do not -know what it is to me, whom the proud ones of the world pass by with averted looks, to -hear that sacred name from lips as pure as yours. Let me hold you in my arms—so—a little -while—if you knew the good it does me to feel your heart beating close to -mine—(<i>pause</i>); and now to bring back this truant—how this heart flutters—you must -compose yourself (<i>goes to door leading to inner room and opens it</i>). And I have need -to be alone awhile (<i>puts her in, comes forward and sits a moment with her hands pressed -over her forehead</i>). ’Twas a terrible wrench—but ’tis over; and now—“about my brains” -as Hamlet says—to bring back the husband to his duty—what a strange office for a woman -like me! How little the world knows about us after all (<i>she sighs and sobs -convulsively</i>). I ought to feel very happy—pshaw! On with the mask and spangles, -Peggy—and away with the fumes of this pleasant day-dream—how to bring Pomander hither? Let -me see—this paper (<i>takes paper Mabel sent up</i>) signed in her hand; Mabel Vane—what -if by its aid—I have it—pen—ink—one never can find writing materials in an author’s room -(<i>goes to door and calls</i>). Triplet! (<i>enter Triplet from inner room</i>). Pens and -ink—quick!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>gets them, looking at her</i>). Here, madam—and paper?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No, I have that here (<i>she writes—he watches her</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Her eyes are red—and Mrs. Vane all of a flutter inside. There’s -been a storm—but they haven’t torn each other in pieces, that’s one comfort. But has she -relented, I wonder?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Triplet! This note to Sir Charles Pomander.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam (<i>takes it</i>). What is it, I wonder? However, ’tis not -my business (<i>going—pauses</i>). But it is my business—I’m not a postman—if I carry -letters I ought to know the contents (<i>returns</i>). Madam—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Well!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam—I—I—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. I see—you wish to know the contents of that letter—hear them: -“Follow the bearer.”</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Madam!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>reads</i>). I am here without my husband’s knowledge.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Woffington!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>reads</i>). Alone and unprotected—signed “Mabel Vane.”</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Her own signature too! Mrs. Woffington—you are a great actress—you -have been cruelly wronged—you have saved me from despair, and my children from starvation; -but before I will carry that letter, I will have my hands hacked off at the wrists.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>aside</i>). What a good creature this is. Then you refuse to -obey my orders.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No! no! ask me to jump out of that window—to burn my favourite -tragedy—to forswear pen and ink for ever—anything but carry that letter, and I will do -it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Well—leave the letter! (<i>Triplet runs for his hat</i>) Where are -you going?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. To bring the husband to his wife’s feet—and so to save one -angel—that’s the lady in the other room—from despair; and another angel—that’s you, from a -great crime. Trust poor Jemmy Triplet for once to bring this domestic drama to a happy -denouement!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>Exit</i> <small>L</small>.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. How innocently he helps my plot! I must have all the puppets under -my hand. If I know Sir Charles, he is still on the watch (<i>goes to window</i>). Yes! -(<i>goes to inner door</i>) Here—your eldest boy, Mrs. Triplet; I want him (<i>enter -Lysimachus</i> <small>R</small>. <i>door</i>). Lysimachus, you see that gentleman, run -down—give him this letter—and then show him up here (<i>exit Lysimachus</i> -<small>L</small>. <i>door</i>). And now Mrs. Vane’s mantle, the hood well forward—so—we -are nearly of a height—he does not know I am here—if I can but imitate her voice and -rustic shyness—<i>allons</i>, Peggy ’tis seldom you acted in so good a cause (<i>she -assumes the air of Mrs. Vane</i>).</p> - -<p class="direction pad_top_half_em pad_bottom_half_em">[<i>Enter Pomander -behind—Woffington appears sunk in grief—he comes forward—she starts and gives a little -shriek.</i>]</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. My dear Mrs. Vane (<i>she shrinks</i>). Do not be -alarmed—loveliness neglected, and simplicity deceived, give irresistible claims to respect -as well as adoration. Had fate given me this hand (<i>he takes her hand</i>)—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, please sir!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Would I have abandoned it for that of a <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-63">[Pg 63]</a></span>Woffington—as artificial and hollow a jade -as ever winked at a side-box. Oh, had I been your husband, madam—how would I have revelled -in the pastoral pleasures you so sweetly recalled yesterday—the Barbary mare—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>timidly</i>). Hen!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ah, yes, the Barbary hen; and old dame—dame—</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Best, please sir!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Yes, Best—that happy though elderly female for whom you have -condescended to make puddings.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Alas, sir!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. You sigh! It is not yet too late to convert me. Upon this white -hand I swear to become your pupil, as I am your adorer (<i>he kisses it</i>); let me thus -fetter it with a worthy manacle. (<i>Aside.</i> What will innocence say to my five hundred -guinea diamond?)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. La, sir! how pretty!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Let me show how poor its lustre is to that of your eyes (<i>he -tries to draw back her hood</i>).</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Oh, sir—hark! (<i>she suddenly starts away and listens in an -attitude of alarm</i>).</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ah! (<i>noise without</i>). Footsteps on the stairs! (<i>goes to -door and opens it, listening</i>).</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>without</i>). Another flight!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ha! Vane’s voice, by all that’s mal-à-propos; (<i>Woffington -screams and rushes into inner apartment</i>) and now for Monsieur le mari (<i>Triplet -appears at the door leading to the staircase, with his back to the stage and speaking -off</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Have a care, sir! There is a hiatus in the <span -class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-64">[Pg 64]</a></span>fourth step—and now for -the friend who waits to forget grief and suspicion in your arms—that friend is——</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Vane—Triplet turns round and recognizes Pomander.</i>]</p> - -<p class="noindent">The Devil!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. You flatter me!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. So this is the mysterious rencontre—pray, Sir Charles, what is it -you want to forget in my arms?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. In your arms! (<i>Aside.</i> Confounds himself with his wife.) -Perhaps you had better explain, my friend?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Nay, sir—be yours the pleasing duty!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. In one word, Sir Charles Pomander, why are you here? and for what -purpose am I sent for?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. In two words my dear fellow, I don’t choose to tell you why I am -here—and ’twas not I who sent for you.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>to Triplet</i>). Speak, sirrah—your riddling message!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. There’s nothing for it but the truth. Then, sir—the friend I -expected you would find here was Mrs.——</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. (<i>to Trip.</i>). Stop, my deplorable-looking friend: (<i>to -Vane</i>) when the answer to such a question begins with a mistress, I think you had -better not enquire further: (<i>to Trip.</i>) Don’t complete the name.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. I command you to complete it, or——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Gentlemen, gentlemen, how am I to satisfy both of you?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. My dear Vane, remember it is a lady’s secret—the only thing in the -world one is bound to keep, except one’s temper, which, by-the-bye, you’re losing -rapidly.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>aside</i>). He spoke of griefs and suspicions to be forgiven -and forgotten. Mabel has left my house. (<i>crosses to</i> <small>C</small>.) Sir Charles -Pomander, I insist on knowing who this lady is. If it is as I fear, I have the best right -to ask.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. But the worst right to be answered.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. How am I to construe this tone, sir?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Do as we did at school with a troublesome passage—don’t construe it -at all.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Sir Charles Pomander, you are impertinent.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. My dear Vane, you are in a passion.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. By heaven, sir——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Gentlemen, gentlemen, I give you my word. Mr. Vane, she does not -know of Sir Charles Pomander’s presence here.</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. She? s’death, who?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Vane!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. My wife—here—and with him?</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. No—not with <i>him!</i></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I regret to contradict you, my dilapidated friend, or to hurt you, -my dear Vane; but really, in self-defence—you know this signature (<i>offers paper written -by Woffington</i>).</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Mabel’s hand!</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Yes—what my attentions began, your little peccadilloes -finished—cause and effect, my dear fellow,—pure cause and effect.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Coxcomb and slanderer! draw and defend yourself.</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>draws.</i></p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. If you will have it!</p> - -<p class="direction_r">[<i>draws.</i></p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>throwing himself between them</i>). Hold! hold!</p> - -<p class="direction">(<i>Woffington suddenly opens the inner room door, and presents -herself at the threshold: her hood is drawn over her face</i>).</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Mrs. Vane!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. Mabel! wife! say that this is not true—that you were lured by -stratagem. Oh, speak! belie this coxcomb! You know how bitterly I repented the infatuation -that brought me to the feet of another.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Woffington bursts into a laugh, and throws back the -hood.</i>)</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Woffington!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. She here!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. There, Sir Charles, did I not wager he would confess he was -heartily ashamed of himself? (<i>crosses to</i> <small>C</small>.)</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>aside</i>). I have a glimmer of comprehension.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Yes—we have had our laugh—and Mr. Vane his lesson; as for Mrs. -Vane—this way, madam, and satisfy yourself.</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Mabel appears.</i>)</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. Ernest—dear Ernest!</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>sternly</i>). Mabel, how came you here?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. In such very questionable company as a town rake and a profane -stage-player? Mrs. Vane might have asked the same question yesterday. Why Mrs. Vane -somehow fancied you had mislaid your heart in Covent Garden green-room, and that I had -<span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-67">[Pg 67]</a></span>feloniously -appropriated it: she came here in search of stolen goods—would you could rummage here, -madam, and satisfy yourself if you still want proof, that I have no such thing as a heart -about me—not even one of my own.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. I deny that—a better heart than Mrs. Woffington’s——</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. What on earth do you know about it, man?</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small> (<i>to Mabel</i>). But this letter?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Was written by me on a paper which by accident bore Mrs. Vane’s -signature. The fact is, I had a wager with Sir Charles here—his diamond ring against my -left-hand glove—that I could bewitch a certain country gentleman’s imagination, though his -heart all the while belonged to its rightful owner, and I have won (<i>sighs</i>).</p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. What a dupe I have been—am I enough humiliated?</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Ha! ha! ha! My poor fellow, you had better return to -Huntingdonshire, and leave town and the players to us, who know how to deal with them.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. And are quite safe against being taken in—eh! Sir Charles? -(<i>points to ring on her finger</i>).</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Oh, perfectly—we know each other’s cards—retain that ring as a mark -of my——</p> - -<p class="direction_c">(<i>Woffington holds up her finger.</i>)</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. Respect!</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No, no—I accept your ring; but I shall always hate you.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. I welcome the sentiment—I can endure anything but your -indifference.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> - -<p>V<small>ANE</small>. And you, Mabel, will you forgive my infatuation?</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I forgive all, Ernest—(<i>crosses to Woffington, aside to -her</i>) what do we not owe you, sister?</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Nothing that word does not pay for. (<i>Aside</i>) Alas! and so -ends the game. You and I have the tricks, I think, Sir Charles—Mrs. Vane the honors.—Mr. -Vane will quit hazard and the clubs for Willoughby Manor and the double dummy of a -matrimonial rubber. As for me, I revoke my lead of hearts.</p> - -<p>P<small>OM</small>. After taking my ace of diamonds!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. And poor Jemmy Triplet I suppose must once again take up his -solitary hand at patience.</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. Unless Manager Rich is fool enough to accept my judgment for -gospel—and then—but whom have we here?</p> - -<p class="entrance">[<i>Enter Cibber, Quin, Mrs. Clive, Snarl and Soaper; Snarl and Soaper -cross behind to</i> <small>R</small>. <small>H</small>.]</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Ah! Mrs. Vane—Mr. Vane—Sir Charles—Peggy—Bonjour, Mesdames et -Messieurs—Mr. Triplet, I congratulate you—stap my vitals!</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Congratulate me!</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. Yes—Quin here, who’s a good natured bear, declares we behaved -shamefully to you to-day, and so as Mr. Rich has just told us of your good fortune——</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. My good fortune! there must be some mistake. You’ve come to the -wrong house.</p> - -<p>Q<small>UIN</small>. No; you have a prospect henceforward of <span class="pagenum"><a -class="newpage" id="page-69">[Pg 69]</a></span>dining every day of your life. ’Tis a great -comfort, and I wish you appetite to enjoy it, Mr. Triplet.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Am I awake? Pinch me, somebody—(<i>Woffington pinches him</i>) -thank you—I <i>am</i> awake.</p> - -<p>C<small>IB</small>. Manager Rich, thanks to Peggy’s influence here, and a good word or -two from one who shall be nameless, has accepted one of your tragedies.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Oh, Lord!</p> - -<p>S<small>OAP</small>. He! he! I give you joy, Mr. Triplet; Mr. Snarl and I are so glad, -for as Mr. Snarl said to me, as we left your studio this morning, “I do so wish they’d -play one of Mr. Triplet’s tragedies.”</p> - -<p>S<small>NARL</small>. That I might have the pleasure of criticising it. Mr. Rich did me -the honour to ask which of the three we should accept—I told him, the shortest.</p> - -<p>C<small>LIVE</small>. You’ll be pleased to hear, Mrs. Woffington, there’s a capital -part for <i>me.</i> (<i>Aside</i>) Now she could knock me down, I know.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. One of my tragedies accepted at last! Oh, gracious goodness! Break -it gently to my wife—I know I’m dreaming, but prithee don’t anybody wake me. Oh, Mrs. -Woffington—my guardian angel—my preserver! (<i>seizes her hand</i>)</p> - -<p>W<small>OFF</small>. No, no—we had better wait, and see on which act of your tragedy -the curtain falls.</p> - -<p>T<small>RIP</small>. Ah! I forgot that.</p> - -<p>M<small>ABEL</small>. I need not wait to express my gratitude—say in what way can I -ever thank you?</p> - -<p class="no_bottom">W<small>OFF</small>. Dear sister, when hereafter in your home of -peace you hear harsh sentence passed on us, whose lot is admiration, but rarely love, -triumph but never <span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-70">[Pg -70]</a></span>tranquillity—think sometimes of poor Peg Woffington, and say, stage masks -may cover honest faces, and hearts beat true beneath a tinselled robe—</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Nor ours the sole gay masks that hide a face</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Where care and tears have left their withering trace,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">On the world’s stage, as in our mimic art,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">We oft confound the actor with the part.</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">P<small>OM</small>. Distrust appearances—an obvious moral—</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">With which, however, I’ve no time to quarrel;</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Though for my part, I’ve found, the winning riders</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">In the world’s race are often the outsiders.</p> - -<p class="i0">V<small>ANE</small>. So I have played at love—witched from my will.</p> - -<p class="i0">M<small>AB</small>. My love was always Ernest, and is still.</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">C<small>IB</small>. Pshaw! stap my vitals! “Manners make the -man,”</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">They have made <i>me!</i></p> - -<p class="i0">S<small>NARL</small>. ’Tis about all they can!</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">S<small>OAP</small>. Yes; Mr. Cibber’s epitaph shall be,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">He played Lord Foppington at seventy-three.</p> - -<p class="i0">C<small>LIVE</small>. I’m for plain speaking—let the truth be shown—</p> - -<p class="i0">S<small>NARL</small>. Truth’s in a well—best leave that well alone—</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">Q<small>UIN</small>. Its bitter waters why should <i>you</i> -uncork?</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">No; play like me—an honest knife and fork.</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">T<small>RIP</small>. That part would be well played by many a -poet,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Had he the practice one must have, to know it,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">But ’tis the verdict by the public past,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Must sentence scribblers or to feast or fast.</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Be kind to-night: in triplet tone I sue,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">As actor, manager, and author too.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">P<small>OM</small>. Mind that for sentence when they call the -cause on,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top">You’ve at least one Peg here—to hang applause on.</p> - -<p class="i0 no_bottom">W<small>OFF</small>. Yes; sure those kind eyes and bright smiles -one traces,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Are not deceptive <i>masks</i>—but honest <i>faces.</i></p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">I’d swear it—but if your hands make it certain,</p> - -<p class="i2 no_top no_bottom">Then all is right on both sides of the curtain.</p> - -<p class="end_of_play">[<small>CURTAIN FALLS.</small>]</p> - -<div class="pagebreak"></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a class="newpage" id="page-72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<p class="pad_top_three_em center"><small>PRINTED BY HARRISON AND SONS,</small></p> - -<p class="center tinyfont">LONDON GAZETTE OFFICE, ST. MARTIN’S LANE.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter tnote" id="tnote_div"> -<h3 class="tnote" id="tnote"><a href="#tnote_toc">Transcriber’s Note</a></h3> - -<p>This transcription is based on images digitized by the University of Toronto and posted -by the Internet Archive at:</p> - -<p class="center"><a -href="https://archive.org/details/masksfacesorbefo00tayluoft"> -archive.org/details/masksfacesorbefo00tayluoft </a></p> - -<p class="noindent">In general, this transcription attempts to retain the formatting, -punctuation and spelling of the source text. Some minor inconsistencies and errors have -been corrected.</p> - -<p>The following changes were made:</p> - -<ul> -<li>Dramatis Personæ: Mr Lambert—Added a period after “Mr” for consistency.</li> - -<li>Dramatis Personæ: Mrs. Leigh Murray—Added a period after the second “Mrs. Leigh -Murray” for consistency.</li> - -<li>p. 2: S<small>OAP</small>. (<i>aside</i>), Snarl!—Changed comma after “(<i>aside</i>)” -to a period.</li> - -<li>p. 2: S<small>OAP</small> (<i>crosses slowly to Clive</i>). My dear Mrs. Clive—Added a -period after “S<small>OAP</small>”.</li> - -<li>p. 6: W<small>OFF</small>., (<small>L</small>.) “But like the birds—Deleted the comma -after “W<small>OFF</small>.”</li> - -<li>p. 9: I dine to day at Mr. Vane’s—Changed “to day” to “to-day”.</li> - -<li>p. 14: address to many of your admirers, to wiu your esteem.—Changed “wiu” to -“win”.</li> - -<li>p. 21: H<small>UNDS</small> (<i>aside to Pom.</i>). I’ve marked her down, -sir.—Inserted a period after “H<small>UNDS</small>”.</li> - -<li>p. 23: The true <i>Preux des Dames</i>, (<i>regretfully</i>) went out with the full -periwig—Deleted the comma after “<i>Preux des Dames</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 26: Q<small>UIN</small> (<i>she comes forward, aside to Woff.</i>). Hang it! -Falstaff!—Changed “<i>she</i>” to “<i>he</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 28: [<i>Cibber, Snarl, and Soaper, go up.</i>]—Deleted the comma after -“<i>Soaper</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 28: V<small>ANE</small>. Let me shew you to your apartment (<i>rings bell, leads -her to door</i> <small>R</small>.)—Added a period after the closing parenthesis.</li> - -<li>p. 36: M<small>ABEL</small>. Do you suppose I did not know of his having invited Mrs. -Woffington to his house to day?—Changed “to day” to “to-day”.</li> - -<li>p. 37: M<small>ABEL</small>, (<i>bursting into tears</i>).—Deleted the comma after -“M<small>ABEL</small>”.</li> - -<li>p. 42: [<i>Mr. W. seeing Triplet’s distress, retreats; but presently comes -back.</i>—Changed “<i>Mr. W.</i>” to “<i>Woff.</i>”</li> - -<li>p. 43: and wait outside the door, (<i>in a familiar tone. Exit Pompey</i>).—Deleted -the comma after “door”.</li> - -<li>p. 43: T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>deprecatingly.</i>) They are not to die—Moved the -period after “<i>deprecatingly</i>” to after the closing parenthesis for consistency.</li> - -<li>p. 45: T<small>REP</small>. My wife is a good woman, ma’am—Changed -“T<small>REP</small>.” to “T<small>RIP</small>.”</li> - -<li>p. 47: Here, Triplet, a jig—a jig (<i>Triplet takes fiddle.</i>)—Inserted a period -after “jig” before the stage direction.</li> - -<li>p. 47: W<small>OFF</small>. Pooh! pooh! let me kiss the brats (<i>kisses them.</i>) -(<i>Aside</i> Poor things!)—Moved the period after “<i>kisses them</i>” to after the -closing parenthesis and added a period after “<i>Aside</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 48: (<i>Aside</i> Heaven knows I’ve as much need of merry music as the saddest of -them)—Added a period after “<i>Aside</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 49: W<small>OFF</small>. (<i>reflecting.</i>) I’ll give you a lesson—Moved the -period after “<i>reflecting</i>” to after the closing parenthesis for consistency.</li> - -<li>p. 49: The stage direction “(<i>Triplet removes the baize and suppresses a -start.</i>)” was printed in the source text to the right of two lines spoken by Triplet -and Soaper. The stage direction has been placed on a line between Triplet’s and Soaper’s -lines.</li> - -<li>p. 50: S<small>OAP</small>. Well it is a <i>leetle teaboardy</i>, perhaps.—Changed -“<i>teaboardy</i>” to “<i>tea-boardy</i>” for consistency with the previous line.</li> - -<li>p. 51: S<small>NARL</small> (<i>fiercely.</i>) Goths!—Moved the period after -“<i>fiercely</i>” to after the closing parenthesis for consistency.</li> - -<li>p. 57: T<small>RIP</small>. (<i>interposing.</i>) Oh, my portrait!—Moved the period -after “<i>interposing</i>” to after the closing parenthesis for consistency.</li> - -<li>p. 58: T<small>RIP</small>. I will retire into my sleeping apartment <i>retires into -inner room</i> <small>R</small>. <small>H</small>., <i>and puts out his head</i>), be -composed, ladies.—Inserted an opening parenthesis before “<i>retires</i>”, changed the -comma after the closing parenthesis to a period, and capitalized “be”.</li> - -<li>p. 62: Here—your eldest boy, Mrs. Triplet; I want him (<i>enter Lysimachus</i> -<small>R</small> <i>door</i>).—Added a period after “<small>R</small>”.</li> - -<li>p. 63: (<i>Aside</i> What will innocence say to my five hundred guinea diamond?)—Added -a period after “<i>Aside</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 64: P<small>OM</small>. (<i>to Trip</i>). Stop, my deplorable-looking -friend—Added a period after “<i>Trip</i>”.</li> - -<li>p. 70: T<small>RI</small>. That part would be well played by many a poet—Changed -“T<small>RI</small>.” to “T<small>RIP</small>.” for consistency.</li> -</ul> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mask and Faces, or, Before and Behind -the Curtain, by Tom Taylor and Charles Reade - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASK AND FACES *** - -***** This file should be named 51385-h.htm or 51385-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/8/51385/ - -Produced by Paul Haxo with special thanks to the Internet -Archive and the University of Toronto. - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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