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diff --git a/old/68649-0.txt b/old/68649-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 10e621a..0000000 --- a/old/68649-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1492 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The spoil'd child, by Anonymous - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The spoil'd child - A farce, in two acts, as performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury - Lane - -Author: Anonymous - -Release Date: July 30, 2022 [eBook #68649] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPOIL'D CHILD *** - - - - - - - THE - SPOIL’D CHILD, - - A FARCE, - _IN TWO ACTS_, - - AS PERFORMED AT THE - Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. - - THIS AUTHENTIC EDITION, NOW FIRST PUBLISHED, IS - STRICTLY CONFORMABLE TO THE PROMPTER’S BOOK. - - W. POWELL, Prompter. - - N. B. Whoever vends spurious Copies will be prosecuted. - - _LONDON_: - PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY BARKER AND SON, - _Dramatic Repository_, - GREAT RUSSELL STREET, COVENT GARDEN. - - 1805. [Price 1s. 6d. - - - - -PROLOGUE, SPOKEN BY MRS. JORDAN. - - -_Enters opening a Letter._ - - “Dear Madam—Disappointed by a friend— - “Promis’d a Prologue—at my poor wit’s end— - “Ruin’d—unless so good—your laughing way— - “T’ insinuate something for my luckless Play.” - Poor Devil! what a fright he’s in—but why— - Am I to help him—What can I supply? - I’m doom’d to speak but just what Authors say: - Dull, when they’re dull—and sportive when they’re gay; - Mere puppets here, obedient to their will, - We love or hate—are blest or wretched—kill’d or kill— - Mirth we put on, just as we put on graces— - And wit—that’s sent home ready with our dresses. - What, tho’ at night so very smart and charming— - The dullest mortals breathing, in the morning— - Hence the nice sop, ’ere he our merit stamps. - Of rouge all doubtful—and these treach’rous lamps, - Midst the loud praise, still asks with cautious leer - How is she off the stage—what is she near—— - - But to my talk—to own it tho’ you’re loath - You’re all spoilt children of a larger growth, - Longing for each poor tinsel’d toy you see, - And only constant to variety—— - Whilst each, the censor of his own defects, - The darling fault with gentlest hand corrects; - E’en from his very failings draws a merit, - And dooms each error but a proof of spirit. - - Look round the world—— - When we say world—we mean not now-a days - A huge globe, form’d of mountains—rivers—seas— - The polish’d mind sinks from a scene so wide, - We mean from Hyde Park Corner to Cheapside—— - Look thro’ the world—you’ll find my moral true - In all the varied shapes that rise to view. - - But from spoilt children of six feet in height, - To the spoilt child our stage presents to-night, - Brimful of mirth he comes—Miss Tomboy’s brother, - We hope you’ll think they’re something like each other. - To plead his cause she’ll try a sister’s skill, - I’d fain prevent her—but, “ecod you will.”—— - Perhaps she may shock you, of precise prim air, - But Lord! what then, she never minds that there. - The Country Girl a kindred tie may claim, - She too is anxious for his future fame; - And if you’ll spare him, swears whene’er she’s able - _She’ll tread on all your toes—under the table._ - Oft’ have you deign’d their artless toils to cheer, - And crown’d with flutt’ring smiles their labours, here - View then here the brother’s faults, with judgment mild, - And spare the rod—altho’ you Spoil the Child. - - - - -BARKER AND SON - - -Respectfully inform the Public, they have a Collection of PLAYS on Sale, -which, considered either as to its Extent or Rarity, has scarcely been -equalled, having been upwards of Thirty Years in forming, principally -from the Libraries of - - —— SHELDON, ESQ. - MAJOR PEARSON - DR. WRIGHT - MR. DODD - MR. MACKLIN - MR. HENDERSON - DUKE OF BRIDGEWATER - DR. FARMER - G. STEVENS, ESQ. - _&c. &c. &c._ - -In this Assemblage will be found the ORIGINAL Editions of our most -valuable Writers; as, - - SHAKESPEARE - JONSON - CHAPMAN - HEYWOOD - MIDDLETON - WEBSTER - BEAUM. & FLETCHER - MASSINGER - SHIRLEY - DAVENANT - GLAPTHORNE - KILLIGREW, _&c. &c._ - -Subjoined to these, are the more modern AUTHORS, to which every Article -is added as soon as published. - - - - -_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._ - - - 1790. 1804. - LITTLE PICKLE, Mrs. Jordan. Miss De Camp. - OLD PICKLE, Mr. Suett. Mr. Suett. - TAGG, Mr. R. Palmer. Mr. Palmer. - JOHN, Mr. Burton. Mr. Purser. - THOMAS, Mr. Lyons. Mr. Evans. - - MISS PICKLE, Mrs. Hopkins. Mrs. Sparks. - MARIA, Miss Heard. Mrs. Sharp. - MARGERY, Mrs. Booth. Mrs. Maddocks. - SUSAN, Mrs. Edwards. Miss Tidswell. - -SCENE—_OLD PICKLE’s Country House._ - -TIME—That of Representation. - - - - -THE SPOIL’D CHILD. - - - - -ACT I. - -SCENE I.—_A Dining Parlour.—PICKLE and his sister sitting by a table, on -which plates are set for dinner—the sister working._ - - - PICKLE. - -Well, well, sister, a little patience and these holidays will soon be -over, the boy then goes back to school, and all will be quiet. - -_Miss P._ Aye, till the next breaking up—no—no, brother, unless he is -severely punished for what he has already done, depend upon it this -vicious humour will be confirmed into habit, and his follies increase in -proportion with his years. - -_Pick._ Now would not any one think, to hear you talk, that my son had -actually some vice in him, for my part, I own there is something so -whimsical in all his tricks, that I cannot in my heart but forgive him, -aye, and for aught I know, love him better into the bargain. - -_Miss P._ Yes, truly, because you have never been a sufferer by them, had -you been rendered as ridiculous as I have been by his _tricks_, as you -call them, you would have been the first to complain, and to punish. - -_Pick._ Nay, as to that, he has not spared even his father—is there a -day passes that I don’t break my shins over some stumbling block he lays -in my way—Why there is not a door but is _armed_ with a bason of water -on the top, and just left a-jar, so that egad, I can’t walk over my own -house without running the risk of being wet through. - -_Miss P._ No wonder the child’s spoilt, since you will superintend his -education yourself—you! indeed! - -_Pick._ Sister, sister, do not provoke me—at any rate I have wit enough -to _conceal my_ ignorance, I don’t pretend to write verses and nonsense -as some folks do. - -_Miss P._ Now would you rail at me for the disposition I was born -with—can I help it, if the gods have made me poetical, as the divine bard -says. - -_Pick._ Made you poetical, indeed!—s’blood if you had been born in a -street near a college, aye, or even the next door to a day-school, I -might not have been so surprised—but d——n it, madam, in the middle of the -Minories, what had you to do with poetry and stuff? - -_Miss P._ Provoking ignorance. - -_Pick._ Have you not rendered yourself the sneer of all your -acquaintance, by your refined poetical intercourse with Mr. Tagg, the -author, a fellow that stroles about the country, spouting and acting in -every barn he comes to—was he not once found concealed in your closet, to -the utter scandal of my house, and the ruin of your reputation! - -_Miss P._ If you had the smallest spark of taste, you would admire the -effusions of Mr. Tagg’s pen, and be enchanted at his admirable acting as -much as I am. - -_Pick._ Do you tell me I can’t educate my own child, and make a lord -chancellor, or an archbishop of Canterbury of him, which ever I like—just -as I please. - - [_YOUNG PICKLE by a string draws the chair, - OLD PICKLE falls._ - -_Miss P._ How’s this—I’ll lay my life that is another trick of this -little mischievous wretch. - -_Pick._ (_getting up._) An ungrateful little rascal, to serve me such -a trick, just as I had made an archbishop of him—but he can’t be far -off—I’ll immediately correct him; here, Thomas. (_going, meets THOMAS and -servants bringing in covers for dinner._) But odso, here’s dinner—well, -I’ll defer my severity till that’s over—but if I don’t make him remember -this trick one while, say my name is not Pickle. (_sits down to table, -PICKLE cutting up a pheasant._) Sister, this is the first pheasant we -have had this season, it looks well—shall I help you—they say anger makes -a man dry, but mine has made me hungry—come, here’s a wing for you, and -some of the breast. - - _Enter SUSAN, (a Cook Maid) in haste._ - -_Sus._ Oh, dear sir—oh, dear madam—my young master—the parrot, ma’am—oh -dear! - -_Pick._ Parrot, and your young master; what the deuce does the girl mean? - -_Miss P._ Mean! Why as sure as I live that vile boy has been hurting my -poor bird. - -_Sus._ Hurting, ma’am—no indeed, ma’am; I’ll tell you the whole truth—I -was not to blame, indeed I wasn’t, ma’am, besides, I am morally certain -’twas the strange cat that kill’d it this morning. - -_Miss P._ How! kill’d it say you;—but go on, let us hear the whole. - -_Sus._ Why ma’am, the truth is, I did but step out of the kitchin for -a moment, when in comes my young master, whips the pheasant that was -roasting for dinner, from the spit, and claps down your ladyship’s -parrot, picked and trussed in its place. - -_Pick._ The parrot!—the devil. - -_Sus._ I kept basting and basting on, and never thought I was basting the -parrot. - -_Miss P._ Oh, my sweet, my beautiful young bird, I had just taught it to -talk, too. - -_Pick._ You taught it to talk—it taught you to talk, you mean, I am sure -it was old enough, ’twas hatched in the hard frost! - -_Miss P._ Well, brother, what excuse now?—but run, Susan, and do you -hear, take John, and—— - - _Enter JOHN, slowly and lame, his face bound up._ - -Oh John, here’s a piece of business. - -_John._ Ay, ma’am sure enow—what you have heard, I see—business -indeed—the poor thing will never recover. - -_Miss P._ (_joyfully_) What, John, is it a mistake of Susan’s—is it still -alive?—but—where—where is it, John? - -_John._ Safe in stables, and it were as sound—a’ made her a hot mash, -woud’nt touch it—so crippled will never have leg to put to ground again. - -_Pick._ No, I’ll swear to that—for here’s one of them. (_holding up a leg -on a fork_) - -_Miss P._ What does the fool mean? what—what, what is in the stable—what -are you talking of? - -_John._ Master’s favourite mare, Daisy, madam—poor thing—— - -_Pick._ (_alarmed_) What—how—any thing the matter with Daisy? I would not -part with her for—— - -_John._ Aye, sir quite done up—won’t fetch five pounds at the next fair. - -_Miss P._ This dunce’s ignorance distracts me—come along, Susan. - - [_Exeunt Miss PICKLE and SUSAN._ - -_Pick._ Why, what can it be what the devil ails her? - -_John._ Why, sir, the long and the short of the whole affair, is as -how—he’s cut me too all across the face—mercy I did not lose my eyes. - -_Pick._ This cursed fellow will drive me mad—the mare, you scoundrel, the -mare. - -_John._ Yes, sir, the mare—then too, my shins—master Salve, the surgeon, -says I must ’noint ’em wi’—— - -_Pick._ Plague on your shins—you dog—what is the matter with the mare? - -_John._ Why, sir, as I was coming home this morning over Black Down, what -does I see but young master tearing over the turf upon Daisy, thof your -honour had forbid him to ride her—so I calls to him to stop—but what -does he do, but smacks his whip in my face, and dash over the gate into -Stoney Lane; but what’s worse, when I rated him about it, he snatches up -Tom Carter’s long whip, and lays me so over the legs, and before I could -catch hold of him, he slips out of the stable, and was off like a shot. - -_Pick._ Well, if I forgive him this—no—I’ll send him this moment back to -school.—School! zounds, I’ll send him to sea. - - _Enter Miss PICKLE._ - -_Miss P._ Well, brother, yonder comes your precious child—he’s muttering -all the way up stairs to himself, some fresh mischief, I suppose. - -_Pick._ Aye, here he comes—stand back—let us watch him, though I can -never contain my passion long. - - [_they withdraw to the back of the stage._ - - _Enter LITTLE PICKLE._ - -_Little P._ Well, so far all goes on rarely, dinner must be nearly ready; -old Poll will taste well, I dare say—parrot and bread sauce—ha! ha! -ha!—they suppose they are going to have a nice young pheasant, an old -parrot is a greater rarity, I’m sure—I can’t help thinking how devilish -tough the drumsticks will be—a fine piece of work, aunt will make when -it’s found out—ecod, for aught I know, that may be better fun than -the other: no doubt Sukey will tell, and John too, about the horse—a -parcel of sneaking fellows, always tell, tell, tell.—I only wish I could -catch them a school, once—that is all—I’d pay them well for it I’d be -bound.—Oh! oh! here they are, and as I live, my father and aunt—it’s all -out I see—to be sure I’m not got into a fine scrape now, I almost wish I -was safe at school again. (_they come forward_) Oh, sir, how do you do, -sir, I was just coming to—— - -_Pick._ Come, come, no fooling now—how dare you look me in the face after -the mischief you have done? - -_Little P._ What—what have I done? - -_Pick._ You know the value I set upon that mare, you have spoilt for ever. - -_Little P._ But, sir, hear me—indeed I was not so much to blame, sir, not -so very much. - -_Miss P._ Do not aggravate your faults by pretending to excuse them—your -father is too kind to you. - -_Little P._ Dear, sir, I own I was unfortunate——I had heard you often -complain, how wild and vicious little Daisy was, and indeed, sir, I never -saw you ride her, but I trembled least some sad accident might befall you. - -_Pick._ Well, and what is all this to the purpose? - -_Little P._ And so, sir, I resolved, sooner than you should suffer, to -venture my own neck, and so try to tame her for you; that was all—and so -I was no sooner mounted than off she set—I could not help that you know, -sir, and so this misfortune happened, and so, sir—but indeed, sir—— - -_Pick._ Could I be sure this was your motive——and ’tis purely love and -regard for your old father makes you thus teaze and torment him—perhaps I -might be inclined to—— - -_John._ Yes, sir, but ’tis no love and regard to me made him beat me so—— - -_Little P._ John, you know you were to blame.—Sir, indeed the truth is, -John was scolding me for it, and when I told him as I have told you, why -I did it, and that it was to hinder you from being hurt, he said that it -was no business of mine, and that if your neck was broke it was no such -great matter. - -_Pick._ What—no great matter to have my neck broke—— - -_Little P._ No, sir; so he said, and I was vex’d to hear him speak so of -you, and I believe I might take up the whip, and give him a cut or two on -the legs—it could not hurt him much. - -_Pick._ Well, child, I believe I must forgive you, and so shall John too; -aye, aye.——But I had forgot poor Poll—what did you roast the parrot for, -you young dog? - -_Little P._ Why, sir, I knew you and my aunt were both so fond of it, I -thought you would like to see it well dress’d. - -_Pick._ Ha!—ha!—ha!—— - -_Little P._ But dear aunt, I know you must be angry with me, and you -think with reason. - -_Miss P._ Don’t speak to me, I am not so weak as your father, whatever -you may fancy. - -_Little P._ But indeed, aunt, you must hear me, had I not loved you as I -do, I should not have thus offended you, but it was merely my regard for -your _character_. - -_John._ Character!— - - [_Exit, PICKLE kicks him off._ - -_Little P._ My dear aunt, I always heard that no lady’s keep parrots or -lap-dogs, ’till they can no longer keep lovers—and when at school, I told -’em you had a parrot, the boys all said, then you must be a foolish old -maid. - -_Miss P._ Indeed!—impudent young wretches. - -_Little P._ Yes, aunt, and so I resolved you should no longer be thought -so—for I think you are a great deal too young, and too handsome for an -old maid. (_taking her hand_) - -_Pick._ Come, sister, i’faith you must forgive him, no female heart can -withstand that. - -_Miss P._ Brother, you know I can forgive where I see occasion; but -though these faults are thus excused, how will you answer to a charge of -scandal and ill-nature. - -_Little P._ Ill-nature, madam—I’m sure nobody can accuse me of that. - -_Miss P._ How will you justify the report you spread, of my being locked -up in my closet with Mr. Tagg, the author—can you defend so vile an -attempt to injure my reputation? - -_Pick._ What, that too, I suppose, was from your care of her -character—and so to hinder your aunt from being an old maid, you locked -her up in her closet with this author, as he is called. - -_Little P._ Nay, indeed, dear madam, I beseech you—’twas no such thing, -all I said was, you were amusing yourself in your closet with a favourite -author. - -_Miss P._ I amuse myself in my closet with a favourite author! worse and -worse. - -_Pick._ Sister have patience—hear—— - -_Miss P._ I am ashamed to see you support your boy in such insolence—I, -indeed! who am scrupulous to a fault; but no longer will I remain subject -to such impertinence, I quit your house, sir, and you shall quit all -claim to my fortune—this moment will I alter my will, and leave my money -to a stranger, sooner than to your family. - - [_Exit._ - -_Pick._ Her money to a stranger, leave her money to a stranger! Oh! -the three per-cent. consols—oh, the India stock—go, child—fly, throw -yourself at your aunt’s feet—say any thing to please her—I shall run -distracted.—Oh! those _consols_—— - -_Little P._ I am gone, sir—shall I say she may die as soon as she -pleases, but she must not give her money to a stranger. - -_Pick._ Aye, aye, there’s a good boy, say any thing to please her, that -will do very well—say she may die as soon as she pleases, but she must -not leave her money to a stranger. (_Exit LITTLE P._) Sure never man was -so tormented—well, I thought when my poor dear wife, Mrs. Pickle died, -and left me a disconsolate widower, I stood some chance of being a happy -man, but I know not how it is, I could bear the vexation of my wife’s bad -temper better than this woman’s. All my married friends were as miserable -as myself—but now—faith here she comes, and in a fine humour, no doubt. - - _Enter Miss PICKLE._ - -_Miss P._ Brother, I have given directions for my immediate departure, -and am now come to tell you, I will persist in my design, unless you this -moment adopt the scheme I yesterday proposed for my nephew’s amendment. - -_Pick._ Why, my dear sister you know there is nothing I would not readily -do to satisfy and appease you, but to abandon my only child, to pretend -that he is not mine—to receive a beggar brat into my arms—impossible—— - -_Miss P._ (_going_) Very well, sir, then I am gone. - -_Pick._ But sister, stop—was ever man so used—how long is this scheme of -yours to last? how long am I to be deprived of him? - -_Miss P._ How long! why until he is brought duly to reflect upon his -bad behaviour, which nothing will induce him to do, so soon as thinking -himself no longer your son, but the child of poor parents—I yesterday -spoke to Margaret, his old nurse, and she fully comprehends the whole -affair. - -_Pick._ But why, in addition to the quitting my own child, am I to have -the torment of receiving hers? won’t the sending him away be sufficient? - -_Miss P._ Unless the plot is managed my way, I will have nothing to do -with it, but begone—can’t you perceive that his distress at losing his -situation, will be augmented by seeing it possessed by another—come, -come, brother, a week’s purgatory will reform him, depend upon it. - -_Pick._ Why, to be sure, as you say—’twill reform him, and as we shall -have our eyes upon him all the while, and Margaret his own nurse— - -_Miss P._ You may be sure she will take care of him—well, since this is -settled, the sooner ’tis done the better—Thomas! - - _Enter THOMAS._ - -Send your young master. - -_Pick._ I see you are finally resolved, and no other way will content -you.—Well, heaven protect my poor child. - -_Miss P._ Brother, you are so blinded by your foolish fondness, that you -cease to perceive what is for his benefit—’tis happy for you, there is a -person to direct you, of my superior discernment. - - _Enter LITTLE PICKLE._ - -_Little P._ Did you send for me, aunt? - -_Pick._ Child, come hither, I have a great secret to disclose to you, at -which you will be much surprised. - -_Little P._ A secret, sir! - -_Miss P._ Yes, and one that requires your utmost courage to hear—you are -no longer to consider that person as your father, he is not so—Margaret, -who nursed you, has confessed, and the thing is sufficiently proved, that -you are not _his_ son, but hers—she exchanged you when an infant for my -real nephew, and her conscience has at last compelled her to make the -discovery. - -_Little P._ _I_ another person’s child!—impossible!—ah! you are only -joking with me now, to see whether I love you or not, but indeed (_to -PICKLE_) I am yours—my heart tells me I am _only only_ yours. - -_Pick._ I am afraid you deceive yourself—there can be no doubt of -the truth of Margaret’s account; but still assure yourself of our -protection—but no longer can you remain in this house, I must not do an -injury to my own child—you belong to others—to them you must now go. - -_Little P._ Yet, sir, for an instant hear me—pity me—ah too sure I know -(_to OLD PICKLE_) I am _not_ your child—or would that distress which now -draws tears of _pity_ from a stranger, fail to move nature in _you_. - -_Miss P._ Comfort yourself, we must ever consider you with compassion and -regard—but now you must begone—Margaret is waiting without to receive -you. - - -_SONG_—LITTLE PICKLE. - -Tune—_Je suis Linder._ - - Since then I’m doom’d, this sad reverse to prove, - To quit each object of my infant care; - Torn from an honour’d parent’s tender love, - And driven the keenest storms of fate to bear. - Ah! but forgive me, pitied let me part, - Your frowns, too sure, wou’d break my sinking heart. - -II. - - Where e’er I go, what e’er my lowly state, - Yet grateful mem’ry still shall linger here, - And perhaps when musing o’er my cruel fate, - You still may greet me with a tender tear. - Ah! then forgive me, pitied let me part, - Your frowns too sure would break my sinking heart. - - -END OF THE FIRST ACT. - - - - -ACT II. - -SCENE—_A Parlour._ - - - _Enter Miss PICKLE and MARGERY._ - -_Mar._ And so I was telling your ladyship, poor little master does so -take it to heart, and so weep and wail, it almost makes me cry to hear -him. - -_Miss P._ Well, well, since he begins already to repent, his punishment -shall be but short; have you brought your boy with you? - -_Mar._ Aye, have I—poor Tommy, he came from a-board a ship but now, -and is so grown, and altered—sure enough he believes every word I have -told him, as your honour ordered me, and I warrant, is so sheepish and -shamefaced—but here comes my master—he has heard it all already. - - _Enter PICKLE._ - -But, my lady—shall I fetch my poor Tommy to you, he’s waiting without. - -_Pick._ What, that ill-looking young rascal in the hall?—he with the -jacket and trowsers. - -_Mar._ Ay, your honour!—what, then, you have seen him. - -_Pick._ Seen him!—ay, and felt him too.—The booby met me bolt at the -corner, run his cursed carotty poll full in my face, and has loosened -half the teeth in my head, I believe. - -_Mar._ Poor lad! he’s a sailor, and but aukward as yet, and so shy I -warrant—but will your honour be kind to him. - -_Pick._ Kind to him? Why, I am to pass for his father—am not I? - -_Mar._ Aye, I wish your honour had been poor Tommy’s father—but no such -luck for me, as I say to my husband. - -_Pick._ Indeed!—Your husband must be very much obliged to you, and so am -I. - -_Mar._ But do your honour see my poor Tommy, once dressed in his fine -smart clothes—— - -_Pick._ Damme! I don’t half like that Tommy. - -_Miss P._ Yes, yes, you shall—but now go and fetch him here to us; I -should like much to see him. - -_Mar._ (_going_) Do you now, madam, speak kindly to him—for poor boy, -he’s quite dash’d. - - [_Exit._ - -_Pick._ Yes, and he has dash’d some of my teeth out—plague on him. - -_Miss P._ Now, Mr. Pickle, I insist upon your observing a proper decorum -and behaviour towards this poor lad; observe the condescension of my -deportment—methinks I feel a strange inclination already in his favour, -perhaps I may advance him bye and bye, to be my page—shall I brother?—Oh, -here he comes—and I declare, as prepossessing a countenance as ever I -beheld. - - _Enter MARGERY and LITTLE PICKLE as a sailor boy._ - -Come hither child, was ever there such an engaging air? - -_Mar._ Go Tommy, do as you are bid, there’s a good boy—thank his honour -for his goodness to you. - -_Little P._ Be you the old fellow that’s just come to be my father? - -_Pick._ (_aside_) Old fellow! he’s devilish dashed to be sure—yes, I am -the old fellow, as you call it—will you be a good boy? - -_Little P._ Ay, but what will you gi’ me?—must I be good for nothing? - -_Pick._ (_mimicking_) Good for nothing! nay, that I’ll swear you are -already. Well, and how long have you been come from sea? eh, how do you -like a sailor’s life? - - _LITTLE PICKLE, Sings._ - -(NO SYMPHONY.)—TUNE, _Malton Oysters_. - - I am a brisk and sprightly lad, - But just come home from sea, Sir! - Of all the lives I ever led, - A sailor’s life for me, Sir. - Yeo, yeo, yeo—Yeo, yeo, yeo. - Whilst the boatswain pipes all hands. - With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir. - -II. - - What girl but loves the merry tar? - We o’er the ocean roam, Sir, - In every clime we find a port, - In every port a home, Sir. - Yeo, yeo, yeo—&c. &c. - -III. - - But, when our Country’s foes are nigh, - Each hastens to his gun, Sir, - We make the boasting Frenchmen fly, - And bang the haughty Don, Sir. - Yeo, yeo, yeo—&c. &c. - -IV. - - Our foes subdued, once more on shore, - We spend our cash with glee, Sir, - And when all’s gone, we drown our care, - And out again to sea, Sir. - Yeo, yeo, yeo—Yeo, yeo, yeo. - And when all’s gone, again to sea, - With a yeo, yeo, yeo, Sir. - -_Pick._ So this is the way I am to be entertained in future, with -forecastle jokes, and tarpauling songs. - -_Miss P._ Brother, do not speak so harshly to the poor lad, he’s among -strangers, and wants encouragement—come to me, my pretty boy, I’ll be -your friend—— - -_Little P._ Friend! oh, what, you’re my grandmother—father, must not I -call her granne? - -_Pick._ What, he wants encouragement, sister—yes, poor soul, he’s among -strangers—he’s found out one relation, however, sister—this boy’s -assurance diverts me—I like him (_aside_.) - -_Little P._ Granne’s mortish cross and frumpish—la father, what makes -your mother, there, look so plaguy foul-weather’d. - -_Miss P._ Mother, indeed. - -_Pick._ Oh, nothing at all, my dear, she’s the best humoured person -in the world—go throw yourself at her feet, and ask her for her -blessing—perhaps she may gi’ you something. - -_Little P._ A blessing! I sha’n’t be much richer for that neither—perhaps -she may give me half a crown; I’ll throw myself at her feet, and ask her -for a guinea—(_kneels_)—Dear granne, give me your picture (_catches hold -of it_.) - -_Miss P._ Stand off, wretch, am I to be robbed, as well as insulted? - -_Mar._ Fie, child, learn to behave yourself better. - -_Little P._ Behave myself—learn _you_ to behave yourself, I should not -have thought of _you_ indeed—get you gone—what do you here? (_beats her -out._) - - [_and Exit._ - -_Pick._ Well, sister, this plan of yours succeeds I hope to your -satisfaction—he’ll make a mighty pretty page, sister—what an engaging -air, he has sister; this is some revenge for her treatment of my poor boy -(_aside_). - -_Miss P._ I perceive this to be all a contrivance, and the boy is taught -to insult me thus—you may repent of this unparalleled treatment of -unprotected innocence. - - [_Exit._ - -_Pick._ What, she means her lover, the player-man, I suppose, but I’ll -watch her, and her consols too; and if I catch him again in my house, it -shall be his last appearance this season; I can tell him that, and the -next part he plays, shall be Captain Macheath in the prison scene, egad. - - [_Exit._ - - _Enter LITTLE PICKLE, alone._ - -_Little P._ There they go, ha! ha! ha! my scheme has gone on rarely, -rather better than theirs, I think.—Blessing on the old nurse for -consenting to it—I’ll teach ’em to turn people out of doors—let -me see, what trick shall I play ’em now—suppose I set the house on -fire—no—no—’tis too soon for that as yet—that will do very well bye and -bye—let me consider—I wish I could see my sister, I’ll discover myself to -her, and then we might contrive something together nicely—that staircase -leads to her room, I’ll try and call her (_goes to the door and listens_) -there’s nobody in the way!—Hist! hist!—Maria—Maria—she hears me, she’s -coming this way—(_runs and hides himself_.) - - _Enter MARIA._ - -_Maria._ Sure somebody called me (_looks around_). No, there’s nobody -here—heigho—I’ve almost cryed myself blind about my poor brother, for so -I shall always call him, ay, and love him too—(_going_). - -_Little P._ (_running forward_) Maria!—sister!—stop an instant. - -_Maria._ My brother!—Charles—impossible. - -_Little P._ ’Tis e’en so, and faith ’twas all a trick about the nurse -and child; I coax’d the old woman to confess the whole to me—you can’t -contrive to kill yourself for the loss of me, can you?—that would have a -fine effect—is there nothing I can think of?—Suppose you pretend to fall -in love with me, and we run away together.— - -_Maria._ That will do admirably—depend upon my playing my part with a -good will, for I owe some revenge for their treatment of you, besides, -you know I can refuse you nothing. - - _Enter OLD PICKLE, behind._ - -_Little P._ Thank you a thousand times, my dearest Maria, thus then we’ll -contrive it. (_seeing Pickle coming behind, they pretend to whisper._) - -_Old P._ What! how’s this!—“Dear Maria, and I’ll refuse you -nothing.”—Death and the devil, my daughter has fallen in love with that -young scoundrel and his yeo, yeo, yeo—she too, she embraces him—(_comes -forward_)—mighty well, young madam—’tis mighty well, but come, you shall -be locked up immediately, and you, you young rascal, be whipt out of the -house. - -_Little P._ You will not be so hard hearted, sure—we will not part—here -is my anchor fixed—here am I moor’d for ever.—(_Old Pickle takes hold -of her, and endeavours to take her away, she resists, and Little Pickle -detains her by the hand._) - -_Maria._ (_romantically_) No—we’ll never part—Oh, cruel, cruel fate. - -_Old P._ He’s infected her with his assurance already.—What, you young -minx, do you own you love him? - -_Maria._ Love him! Sir, I adore him, and in spite of your utmost -opposition, ever, ever shall. - -_Old P._ Oh, ruined! undone—what a wretched old man I am—but, Maria, -child— - -_Maria._ Think not to dissuade me, sir—vain attempt—no, sir, my -affections are fixed never to be recalled. - -_Old P._ Oh dear, what shall I do? what will become of me? Oh, a plague -on my plots—I’ve lost my daughter, and for ought I know, my son too—why -child, he’s a poor beggar, he’s not worth a sixpence. - -_Maria._ My soul abhors so low a thought—I despise wealth—know, sir, I -cherish nobler sentiments. - - The generous youth shall own, - I love him for himself alone. - -_Old P._ What, poetry too—nay then, it is time to prevent further -mischief—go to your room—a good key shall assure your safety, and this -young rascal shall go back to sea, and his yeo, yeo, yeo, if he will. - -_Maria._ (_going_) I obey your harsh commands, sir, and am gone—but, -alas! I leave my heart behind. - - [_Exit Maria._ - -_Old P._ Now, sir, for you—don’t look so audacious, sirrah—don’t fancy -you belong to me—I utterly disclaim you—— - -_Little P._ (_laughing_) But that is too late now, old gentleman, you -have publickly said I was your son, and d——n me, I’ll make you stand to -it, sir, (_threatning_.) - -_Old P._ The devil—here is an affair!—John, Thomas, William; - - _Enter_ Servants. - -Take that fellow, and turn him out of doors immediately—take him, I say— - -_Servants._ Fellow! who, sir? - -_Old P._ Who! why zounds, _him_ there; don’t you see him? - -_John._ What, my new young master—No, sir, I’ve turned out one already, -I’ll turn out no more. - -_Old P._ He’s not your young master—he’s no son of mine—away with him, I -say. - -_Sus._ No, sir, we know our young master too well for all that; why he’s -as like your honour as one pea is like another. - -_John._ Ay, heaven bless him, and may he shortly succeed your honour in -your estate and fortune. - -_Old P._ (_in a passion, walking up and down_) Rogues! villains! I am -abused, robbed—(_turns them out_) there’s a conspiracy against me, and -this little pirate is at the head of the gang. - - _Enter Servant, with a Letter._ - -Odso, but here’s a letter from my poor boy, I see—this is a comfort, -indeed. Well, I’ll send for him home now without delay. (_reads_) -“Honoured sir, I heartily repent of having so far abused your goodness, -whilst I was blest with your protection, but as I fear no penitence will -ever restore me to your favour, I have resolved to put it out of my power -again to offend you, by instantly bidding adieu to my country for ever.” -Here, John, run, go directly to Margery’s and fetch home my son, and—— - -_Little P._ (_interrupting him_) You may save yourself the trouble, ’tis -too late, you’ll never bring him too now, make as many signals, or fire -as many guns as you please. - -_Old P._ What do you mean? - -_Little P._ Mean, why he and I have changed births you know. - -_Old P._ Changed births! - -_Little P._ Ay, I’m got into his hammock, and he’s got into mine, that’s -all; he’s some leagues off at sea, by this time, for the tide serves, and -the wind is fair; Botany Bay’s the word, my boys. - -_Old P._ Botany Bay! well, I’ll instantly see if ’tis true, why, I’ll -come back, just to blow your brains out, and lo be either hang’d or sent -to Botany Bay after him. - - [_Exeunt, different ways_ - - -SCENE—_A Garden——A Seat in a Bower, much shaded with Trees._ - - _Enter MISS PICKLE._ - -This is the hour of my appointment with Mr. Tagg, and my brother’s -absence is favourable indeed—well, after such treatment, can he be -surprised if I throw myself into the arms of so passionate an admirer; my -fluttering heart tells me this is an important crisis in my happiness—how -much these vile men have to answer for in thus bewitching us silly girls. - - _TAGG repeats behind the Scenes._ - - The heavy hours are almost past - That part my love and me, - - _Enters_, - - My longing eyes may hope at last, - Their only joy to see. - -Thus most charming of her sex, do I prostrate myself before the shrine of -your beauty. (_kneels_) - -_Miss P._ Mr. Tagg, I fear I never can be yours. - -_Tagg._ Adorable, lovely, the most beautified Ophelia. - -_Miss P._ Indeed Mr Tagg, you make me blush with your compliments. - -_Tagg._ Compliments! oh! call not by that hacknied term the voice of -truth—lovely nymph, ah! deign to hear me, I’ll teach you what it is to -love. - -_Miss P._ Love—dear Mr. Tagg.—oh! moderate your transports—be advised, -think no more of this fatal passion. - -_Tagg._ Think no more of it. - - Can love be controll’d by advice, - Will Cupid our mother’s obey. - -Oh then consent my angel to join our hearts in one, or give me my death -in a bumper. - -_Miss P._ (_aside_) Can I refuse any thing to such a lover?—but were I, -my dear friend to consent to our tender union, how could we contrive -to escape, my brother’s vigilance would overtake us and you might have -reason to repent of his anger. - -_Tagg._ Oh, he’s a Goth, a mere Vandyke, my love. - - But fear makes the danger seem double, - Say Hymen what mischiefs can trouble. - -I have contrived the plot and every scene of the elopement, but in this -shady blest retreat will I unfold it all—lets sit down like Jessica and -the fair Lorenzo here. - - Would you taste the noon tide air, - To yon fragrant bower repair. - - [_They sit in the bower._ - -Since musick is the food of love, we’ll to the Nightingale’s complaining -notes, tune our distresses and accord our woes. - - _While TAGG is singing in Burlesque, LITTLE PICKLE steals round - the Stage and gets behind the Bower, and sews their cloaths - together, and then goes out behind unperceived by them._ - -_Miss P._ Oh! I could listen thus for ever to the united charms of love -and harmony—but how are we to plan our escape. - -_Tagg._ In a mean and low attire, muffled up in a great cloak and -disguised with a large hat, will I await you in this happy spot—but why -my soul—why not this instant fly—this moment will I seize my tender bit -of lamb—d——m me, there I had her as dead as mutton. (_aside_) - -_Miss P._ No, I am not yet equipped for an elopement, and what is of more -consequence still, I have got with me a casket of jewels I have prepared, -rather too valuable to leave behind. - -_Tagg._ That _is_ of some consequence, indeed, to me. - - My diamond my pearl, - Then be a good girl - Until I come to you again. - -_Miss P._ Come back again in the disguise immediately, and if fortune -favours faithful lovers’ vows, I will contrive to slip out to you. - -_Tagg._ Dispose of me, lovely creature, as you please, but don’t forget -the casket. - - _LITTLE PICKLE runs in._ - -Granne! granne! - -_Miss P._ What rude interruption is this? - -_Little P._ Nothing at all—only father is coming, that’s all. - -_Tagg._ The devil he is—what a catastrophe! - - [_both rise._ - -_Miss P._ One last adieu. (_embracing_) Think you we shall ever meet -again! (_they find themselves fastened together, and struggle_) - -_Tagg._ D——m me! if I think we shall ever part. - -_Miss P._ (_tenderly_) Don’t detain me, won’t you let me go? - -_Tagg._ Zounds I wish you were gone (_they struggle, and at last get -free, and run off different ways._) - - _Enter OLD PICKLE._ - -_Pick._ Well, all’s not so bad as I feared—he is not yet gone to sea, and -Margery assures me I shall see him e’er long, quite another thing from -what he was—but now let me look after my sister—though she made _me_ play -the fool, I’ll take care to prevent _her_—I must not give up the consols -to——but odso, I have not yet seen my daughter, I’ll to _her_ first, least -young yeo, yeo, yeo, should get her ship’t off—and when I have secured -fifteen, I’ll look after fifty—but who’s coming here? I’ll conceal myself -and watch. - - _Enter MISS PICKLE, with casket._ - -_Miss P._ (_passing over to the bower_) Mr. Tagg, Mr. Tagg—I hope he is -returned—how I tremble—kind Cupid, guide your votary’s feeble steps—Oh, -my dear Mr. Tagg, take the casket, and let us make haste, that we may -escape before my brother comes. [_catches hold of LITTLE PICKLE, who is -behind the bower, disguised as TAGG. LITTLE PICKLE kissing her hand. They -run towards OLD PICKLE, who comes forward and stops them._] - -_Pick._ Your most obedient humble servant, madam—well said -fifty, egad—sir, your most obsequious, Mr. Alexander, Mr. -Romeo—John—William—Thomas, (_calling the servants_) you shan’t want -attendants mighty prince, but mayhap you had rather sleep in a castle, -great hero, we have a convenient goal close by—where you’ll be very safe, -most illustrious chief. - -_Miss P._ Heavens! a Jail! poor dear Mr. Tagg, a victim to his love for -me—oh, let us implore his forgiveness—intreat him to release you. (_to -TAGG._) - -_Little P._ (_kneels and throws off his disguise as TAGG, and appears in -his own hair, though still in the sailor’s dress_) Thus let me implore -for pardon, and believe, that a repentance so sincere as mine, will never -suffer my heart again to wander from it’s duty towards him. - -_Pick._ What’s this? my son (_embracing LITTLE PICKLE_) Odds my heart, -I’m glad to see him once more—Oh you dear little fellow!—but you wicked -scoundrel, how did you dare play me such tricks? - -_Little P._ Tricks! Oh, sir, recollect you have kindly pardon’d them -already; and now you must intercede for me with my aunt, that I may have -her forgiveness too, for preventing her from eloping as she designed with -her tender swain Mr. Tagg. - -_Pick._ Mr. Tagg, odso, then the consols were sinking apace, but you have -raised them once more. - -_Little P._ And do you then, indeed, sir; sincerely forgive me, and -forget all my follies? - -_Pick._ Forget ’em, ah! had you vex’d me as much again, I should be more -than repaid by the happiness of this moment. - -_Little P._ Kind, sir, my joy is then complete, and I will never more -offend. - - [_comes forward._ - - -_FINALE and Chorus._—LITTLE PICKLE. - - Dear sir, once more receive me, - And take me to your arms, - Nor drive me forth to wander - Expos’d to rude alarms. - His} duty, love, obedience, - My } - This penitence refuse, - Then ne’er adopt another child, - For {he} alone {is} yours. - {I } {am} - _Chorus—My duty, love, &c._ - -II. - - Our} joy is then completed, - My } - Wou’d but each gen’rous heart, - With partial favour smiling, - Applaud the artless jest. - The object of these childish pranks, - Was barely to amuse ’em. - Then censure not a school-boy’s faults, - But laugh at, and excuse ’em. - _Chorus—The object of my duty, love, &c._ - - _FINIS._ - - JUST PUBLISHED. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPOIL'D CHILD *** - -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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