The Rivals by Richard Brinsley Sheridan (good book club books TXT) 📕

FAG
He is above, sir, changing his dress.

ABSOLUTE
Can you tell whether he has been informed of Sir Anthony and Miss
Melville's arrival?

FAG
I fancy not, sir; he has seen no one since he came in but his
gentleman, who was with him at Bristol.—I think, sir, I hear Mr.
Faulkland coming down——

ABSOLUTE
Go, tell him I am here.

FAG Yes, sir.—[Going.] I beg pardon, sir, but should Sir Anthony call, you will do me the favour to remember that we are recruiting, if you please.

ABSOLUTE
Well, well.

FAG And, in tenderness to my character, if your honour could bring in the chairmen and waiters, I should esteem it as an obligation; for though I never scruple a lie to serve my master, yet it hurts one's conscience to be found out. [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE Now for my whimsical friend—if he does not know that his mistress is here, I'll tease him a little before I tell him——

[Enter FAULKLAND.]

Faulkland, you're welcome to Bath again; you are punctual in your return.

FAULKLAND Yes; I had nothing to detain me, when I had finished the business I went on. Well, what news since I left you? how stand matters between you and Lydia?

ABSOLUTE Faith, much as they were; I have not seen her since our quarrel; however, I expect to be recalled every hour.

FAULKLAND
Why don't you persuade her to go off with you at once?

ABSOLUTE What, and lose two-thirds of her fortune? you forget that, my friend.—No, no, I could have brought her to that long ago.

FAULKLAND Nay then, you trifle too long—if you are sure of her, propose to the aunt in your own character, and write to Sir Anthony for his consent.

ABSOLUTE Softly, softly; for though I am convinced my little Lydia would elope with me as Ensign Beverley, yet am I by no means certain that she would take me with the impediment of our friends' consent, a regular humdrum wedding, and the reversion of a good fortune on my side: no, no; I must prepare her gradually for the discovery, and make myself necessary to her, before I risk it.—Well, but Faulkland, you'll dine with us to-day at the hotel?

FAULKLAND
Indeed I cannot; I am not in spirits to be of such a party.

ABSOLUTE By heavens! I shall forswear your company. You are the most teasing, captious, incorrigible lover!—Do love like a man.

FAULKLAND
I own I am unfit for company.

ABSOLUTE Am I not a lover; ay, and a romantic one too? Yet do I carry every where with me such a confounded farrago of doubts, fears, hopes, wishes, and all the flimsy furniture of a country miss's brain!

FAULKLAND Ah! Jack, your heart and soul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on one only object. You throw for a large stake, but losing, you could stake and throw again;—but I have set my sum of happiness on this cast, and not to succeed, were to be stripped of all.

ABSOLUTE But, for heaven's sake! what grounds for apprehension can your whimsical brain conjure up at present?

FAULKLAND What grounds for apprehension, did you say? Heavens! are there not a thousand! I fear for her spirits—her health—her life!—My absence may fret her; her anxiety for my return, her fears for me may oppress her gentle temper: and for her health, does not every hour bring me cause to be alarmed? If it rains, some shower may even then have chilled her delicate frame! If the wind be keen, some rude blast may have affected her! The heat of noon, the dews of the evening, may endanger the life of her, for whom only I value mine. O Jack! when delicate and feeling souls are separated, there is not a feature in the sky, not a movement of the elements, not an aspiration of the breeze, but hints some cause for a lover's apprehension!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, but we may choose whether we will take the hint or not.—So, then,
Faulkland, if you were convinced that Julia were well and in spirits,
you would be entirely content?

FAULKLAND
I should be happy beyond measure—I am anxious only for that.

ABSOLUTE Then to cure your anxiety at once—Miss Melville is in perfect health, and is at this moment in Bath.

FAULKLAND
Nay, Jack—don't trifle with me.

ABSOLUTE
She is arrived here with my father within this hour.

FAULKLAND
Can you be serious?

ABSOLUTE I thought you knew Sir Anthony better than to be surprised at a sudden whim of this kind.—Seriously, then, it is as I tell you—upon my honour.

FAULKLAND My dear friend!—Hollo, Du-Peigne! my hat.—My dear Jack—now nothing on earth can give me a moment's uneasiness.

[Re-enter FAG.]

FAG
Sir, Mr. Acres, just arrived, is below.

ABSOLUTE Stay, Faulkland, this Acres lives within a mile of Sir Anthony, and he shall tell you how your mistress has been ever since you left her.—Fag, show this gentleman up.

[Exit FAG.]

FAULKLAND
What, is he much acquainted in the family?

ABSOLUTE Oh, very intimate: I insist on your not going: besides, his character will divert you.

FAULKLAND
Well, I should like to ask him a few questions.

ABSOLUTE He is likewise a rival of mine—that is, of my other self's, for he does not think his friend Captain Absolute ever saw the lady in question; and it is ridiculous enough to hear him complain to me of one Beverley, a concealed skulking rival, who——

FAULKLAND
Hush!—he's here.

[Enter ACRES.]

ACRES Ha! my dear friend, noble captain, and honest Jack, how do'st thou? just arrived, faith, as you see.—Sir, your humble servant.—Warm work on the roads, Jack!—Odds whips and wheels! I've travelled like a comet, with a tail of dust all the way as long as the Mall.

ABSOLUTE
Ah! Bob, you are indeed an eccentric planet, but we know your
attraction hither.—Give me leave to introduce Mr. Faulkland to you; Mr.
Faulkland, Mr. Acres.

ACRES Sir, I am most heartily glad to see you: sir, I solicit your connections.—Hey, Jack—what, this is Mr. Faulkland, who——

ABSOLUTE
Ay, Bob, Miss Melville's Mr. Faulkland.

ACRES Odso! she and your father can be but just arrived before me:—I suppose you have seen them. Ah! Mr. Faulkland, you are indeed a happy man.

FAULKLAND I have not seen Miss Melville yet, sir;—I hope she enjoyed full health and spirits in Devonshire?

ACRES Never knew her better in my life, sir,—never better. Odds blushes and blooms! she has been as healthy as the German Spa.

FAULKLAND
Indeed! I did hear that she had been a little indisposed.

ACRES False, false, sir—only said to vex you: quite the reverse, I assure you.

FAULKLAND There, Jack, you see she has the advantage of me; I had almost fretted myself ill.

ABSOLUTE
Now are you angry with your mistress for not having been sick?

FAULKLAND No, no, you misunderstand me: yet surely a little trifling indisposition is not an unnatural consequence of absence from those we love.—Now confess—isn't there something unkind in this violent, robust, unfeeling health?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, it was very unkind of her to be well in your absence, to be sure!

ACRES
Good apartments, Jack.

FAULKLAND Well, sir, but you was saying that Miss Melville has been so exceedingly well—what then she has been merry and gay, I suppose?—Always in spirits—hey?

ACRES Merry, odds crickets! she has been the belle and spirit of the company wherever she has been—so lively and entertaining! so full of wit and humour!

FAULKLAND There, Jack, there.—Oh, by my soul! there is an innate levity in woman, that nothing can overcome.—What! happy, and I away!

ABSOLUTE Have done.—How foolish this is! just now you were only apprehensive for your mistress' spirits.

FAULKLAND
Why, Jack, have I been the joy and spirit of the company?

ABSOLUTE
No, indeed, you have not.

FAULKLAND
Have I been lively and entertaining?

ABSOLUTE
Oh, upon my word, I acquit you.

FAULKLAND
Have I been full of wit and humour?

ABSOLUTE
No, faith, to do you justice, you have been confoundedly stupid indeed.

ACRES
What's the matter with the gentleman?

ABSOLUTE He is only expressing his great satisfaction at hearing that Julia has been so well and happy—that's all—hey, Faulkland?

FAULKLAND
Oh! I am rejoiced to hear it—yes, yes, she has a happy disposition!

ACRES That she has indeed—then she is so accomplished—so sweet a voice—so expert at her harpsichord—such a mistress of flat and sharp, squallante, rumblante, and quiverante!—There was this time month—odds minims and crotchets! how she did chirrup at Mrs. Piano's concert!

FAULKLAND There again, what say you to this? you see she has been all mirth and song—not a thought of me!

ABSOLUTE
Pho! man, is not music the food of love?

FAULKLAND Well, well, it may be so.—Pray, Mr.—, what's his damned name?—Do you remember what songs Miss Melville sung?

ACRES
Not I indeed.

ABSOLUTE Stay, now, they were some pretty melancholy purling-stream airs, I warrant; perhaps you may recollect;—did she sing, When absent from my soul's delight?

ACRES
No, that wa'n't it.

ABSOLUTE
Or, Go, gentle gales! [Sings.]

ACRES Oh, no! nothing like it. Odds! now I recollect one of them—My heart's my own, my will is free. [Sings.]

FAULKLAND Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on such a trifler! 'Sdeath! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to soothe her light heart with catches and glees!—What can you say to this, sir?

ABSOLUTE
Why, that I should be glad to hear my mistress had been so merry, sir.

FAULKLAND Nay, nay, nay—I'm not sorry that she has been happy—no, no, I am glad of that—I would not have had her sad or sick—yet surely a sympathetic heart would have shown itself even in the choice of a song—she might have been temperately healthy, and somehow, plaintively gay;—but she has been dancing too, I doubt not!

ACRES
What does the gentleman say about dancing?

ABSOLUTE
He says the lady we speak of dances as well as she sings.

ACRES
Ay, truly, does she—there was at our last race ball——

FAULKLAND Hell and the devil! There!—there—I told you so! I told you so! Oh! she thrives in my absence!—Dancing! but her whole feelings have been in opposition with mine;—I have been anxious, silent, pensive, sedentary—my days have been hours of care, my nights of watchfulness.—She has been all health! spirit! laugh! song! dance!—Oh! damned, damned levity!

ABSOLUTE For Heaven's sake, Faulkland, don't expose yourself so!—Suppose she has danced, what then?—does not the ceremony of society often oblige ——

FAULKLAND Well, well, I'll contain myself—perhaps as you say—for form sake.—What, Mr. Acres, you were praising Miss Melville's manner of dancing a minuet—hey?

ACRES Oh, I dare insure her for that—but what I was going to speak of was her country-dancing. Odds swimmings! she has such an air with her!

FAULKLAND Now disappointment on her!—Defend this, Absolute; why don't you defend this?—Country-dances! jigs and reels! am I to blame now? A minuet I could have forgiven—I should not have minded that—I say I should not have regarded a minuet—but country-dances!—Zounds! had she made one in a cotillion—I believe I could have forgiven even that—but to be monkey-led for a night!—to run the gauntlet through a string of amorous palming puppies!—to show paces like a managed filly!—Oh, Jack, there never can be but one man in the world whom a truly modest and delicate woman ought to pair with in a country-dance; and, even then, the rest of the couples should be her great-uncles and aunts!

ABSOLUTE
Ay, to be sure!—grandfathers and grandmothers!

FAULKLAND If there be but one vicious mind in the set, 'twill spread like a contagion—the action of their pulse beats to the lascivious movement of the jig—their quivering, warm-breathed sighs impregnate the very air—the atmosphere becomes electrical to love, and each amorous spark darts through every link of the chain!—I must leave you—I own I am somewhat flurried—and that confounded looby has perceived it. [Going.]

ABSOLUTE
Nay, but stay, Faulkland, and thank Mr. Acres for his good news.

FAULKLAND
Damn his news! [Exit.]

ABSOLUTE Ha! ha! ha! poor Faulkland five minutes since—"nothing on earth could give him a moment's uneasiness!"

ACRES
The gentleman wa'n't angry at my praising his mistress, was he?

ABSOLUTE
A little jealous, I believe, Bob.

ACRES
You don't say so? Ha! ha! jealous of me—that's a good joke.

ABSOLUTE There's nothing strange in that, Bob; let me tell you, that sprightly grace and insinuating manner of yours will do some mischief among the girls here.

ACRES Ah! you joke—ha! ha! mischief—ha! ha! but you know I am not my own property, my dear Lydia has forestalled me. She could never abide me in the country, because I used to dress so badly—but odds frogs and tambours! I shan't take matters so here, now ancient madam has no voice in it: I'll make my old clothes know who's master. I shall straightway cashier the hunting-frock, and render my leather breeches incapable. My hair has been in training some time.

ABSOLUTE
Indeed!

ACRES Ay—and tho'ff the side curls are a little restive, my hind-part takes it very kindly.

ABSOLUTE
Ah, you'll polish, I doubt not.

ACRES Absolutely I propose so—then if I can