like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.
Sir Peter
Ay—there again—taste! Zounds! madam, you had no taste when you married me!6
Lady Teazle
That’s very true, indeed, Sir Peter! and after having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow. But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our daily jangle, I presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell’s.
Sir Peter
Ay, there’s another precious circumstance—a charming set of acquaintance you have made there!
Lady Teazle
Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and fortune, and remarkable tenacious of reputation.
Sir Peter
Yes, egad, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance; for they don’t choose anybody should have a character but themselves! Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on a hurdle who has done less mischief than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal, and clippers of reputation.
Lady Teazle
What, would you restrain the freedom of speech?
Sir Peter
Ah! they have made you just as bad as anyone of the society.
Lady Teazle
Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable grace.
Sir Peter
Grace indeed!
Lady Teazle
But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse. — When I say an ill-natured thing, ’tis out of pure good humour; and I take it for granted they deal exactly in the same manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell’s too.
Sir Peter
Well, well, I’ll call in, just to look after my own character.
Lady Teazle
Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or you’ll be too late. So goodbye to ye.
Exit
Lady Teazle.
Sir Peter
So—I have gained much by my intended expostulation! Yet with what a charming air she contradicts everything I say, and how pleasingly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can’t make her love me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she is doing everything in her power to plague me.
Exit.
Scene II
A room in Lady Sneerwell’s house.
Lady Sneerwell,
Mrs. Candour,
Crabtree,
Sir Benjamin Backbite, and
Joseph Surface, discovered.
Lady Sneerwell
Nay, positively, we will hear it.
Joseph Surface
Yes, yes, the epigram, by all means.
Sir Benjamin
O plague on’t, uncle! ’tis mere nonsense.
Crabtree
No, no; ’fore Gad, very clever for an extempore!
Sir Benjamin
But, ladies, you should be acquainted with the circumstance. You must know that one day last week, as Lady Betty Curricle was taking the dust in Hyde Park, in a sort of duodecimo phaeton, she desired me to write some verses on her ponies; upon which, I took out my pocketbook, and in one moment produced the following:—
Sure never was seen two such beautiful ponies;
Other horses are clowns, but these macaronies:
To give them this title I’m sure can’t be wrong,
Their legs are so slim and their tails are so long.7
Crabtree
There, ladies, done in the smack of a whip, and on horseback too.
Joseph Surface
A very Phoebus, mounted—indeed, Sir Benjamin!
Sir Benjamin
Oh dear, sir! trifles—trifles.
Enter
Lady Teazle and
Maria.
Mrs. Candour
I must have a copy.
Lady Sneerwell
Lady Teazle, I hope we shall see Sir Peter?
Lady Teazle
I believe he’ll wait on your ladyship presently.
Lady Sneerwell
Maria, my love, you look grave. Come, you shall sit down to piquet with Mr. Surface.
Maria
I take very little pleasure in cards—however, I’ll do as your ladyship pleases.
Lady Teazle
I am surprised Mr. Surface should sit down with her; I thought he would have embraced this opportunity of speaking to me before Sir Peter came.
Aside.
Mrs. Candour
Now, I’ll die; but you are so scandalous, I’ll forswear your society.
Lady Teazle
What’s the matter, Mrs. Candour?
Mrs. Candour
They’ll not allow our friend Miss Vermillion to be handsome.
Lady Sneerwell
Oh, surely she is a pretty woman.
Crabtree
I am very glad you think so, ma’am.
Mrs. Candour
She has a charming fresh colour.
Lady Teazle
Yes, when it is fresh put on.
Mrs. Candour
O, fie! I’ll swear her colour is natural: I have seen it come and go!
Lady Teazle
I dare swear you have, ma’am: it goes off at night, and comes again in the morning.
Sir Benjamin
True, ma’am, it not only comes and goes; but, what’s more, egad, her maid can fetch and carry it!
Mrs. Candour
Ha! ha! ha! how I hate to hear you talk so! But surely, now, her sister is, or was, very handsome.
Crabtree
Who? Mrs. Evergreen? O Lord! she’s six-and-fifty if she’s an hour!
Mrs. Candour
Now positively you wrong her; fifty-two or fifty-three is the utmost—and I don’t think she looks more.
Sir Benjamin
Ah! there’s no judging by her looks, unless one could see her face.
Lady Sneerwell
Well, well, if Mrs. Evergreen does take some pains to repair the ravages of time, you must allow she effects it with great ingenuity; and surely that’s better than the careless manner in which the widow Ochre caulks her wrinkles.
Sir Benjamin
Nay, now, Lady Sneerwell, you are severe upon the widow. Come, come, ’tis not that she paints so ill—but, when she has finished her face, she joins it on so badly to her neck, that she looks like a mended statue, in which the connoisseur may see at once that the head is modern, though the trunk’s antique.
Crabtree
Ha! ha! ha! Well said, nephew.
Mrs. Candour
Ha! ha! ha! Well, you make me laugh; but I vow I hate you for it. — What do you think of Miss Simper?
Sir Benjamin
Why, she has very pretty teeth.
Lady Teazle
Yes; and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor laughing (which very seldom happens), she never absolutely shuts her mouth, but leaves it always on ajar, as it were—thus.
Shows her teeth.
Mrs. Candour
How can you be so ill-natured?
Lady Teazle
Nay, I allow even that’s better than the pains Mrs. Prim takes to conceal her losses in front. She draws her mouth till it positively resembles the aperture of a poor’s-box, and all her words
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