Our American Cousin by Tom Taylor (best books to read for beginners .TXT) 📕
Description
Our American Cousin is a three-act play written by English playwright Tom Taylor. The play opened in London in 1858 but quickly made its way to the U.S. and premiered at Laura Keene’s Theatre in New York City later that year. It remained popular in the U.S. and England for the next several decades. Its most notable claim to fame, however, is that it was the play U.S. President Abraham Lincoln was watching on April 14, 1865 when he was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth, who used his knowledge of the script to shoot Lincoln during a more raucous scene.
The play is a classic Victorian farce with a whole range of stereotyped characters, business, and many entrances and exits. The plot features a boorish but honest American cousin who travels to the aristocratic English countryside to claim his inheritance, and then quickly becomes swept up in the family’s affairs. An inevitable rescue of the family’s fortunes and of the various damsels in distress ensues.
Our American Cousin was originally written as a farce for an English audience, with the laughs coming mostly at the expense of the naive American character. But after it moved to the U.S. it was eventually recast as a comedy where English caricatures like the pompous Lord Dundreary soon became the primary source of hilarity. This early version, published in 1869, contains fewer of that character’s nonsensical adages, which soon came to be known as “Dundrearyisms,” and for which the play eventually gained much of its popular appeal.
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- Author: Tom Taylor
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Wine cellar in 3.
Mr. Coyle, Abel Murcott and Mr. Binny discovered. Table L., with two cups and bottles. Mr. Coyle L. of table, seated. Mr. Binny back of table. Abel Murcott sitting on barrel, R. Door in flat with staircase discovered, dark. Stage half dark. Candles on table, lighted. Mr. Coyle A capital glass of wine, Mr. Binny, and a capital place to drink it. Asa Trenchard Without. Bring a light here, can’t you. I’ve broken my natural allowance of shins already. Enters D. in F., down stairs. Asa Trenchard To Abel Murcott. Is he tight yet? Abel Murcott Histered, but not quite gone yet. Mr. Coyle Oh, Mr. Trenchard, glad to see you, to welcome you to the vaults of your ancestors. Asa Trenchard Oh! these are the vaults of my ancestors, are they? Wal, you seem to be punishing their spirits pretty well. Mr. Binny Wines, Mr. Asa Trenchard? The spirits are in the houter cellar. Mr. Coyle Oh, Mr. Asa Trenchard, there is no place like a wine cellar for a hearty bout. Here you might bawl yourself hoarse beneath these ribs of stone, and nobody hear you. He shouts and sings very loud. Asa Trenchard Oh, wouldn’t they hear you? Aside. That’s worth knowing. Mr. Binny Very drunk—rising. That’s right, Mr. Coyle, make as much noise as you like, you are in the cellars of Trenchard Manor, Mr. Coyle. Mr. Coyle, bless you, Mr. Coyle. Mr. Coyle, why his hit Mr. Coyle, I am sitting at the present time, in this present distinguished company? I will tell you, Mr. Coyle, hit his because Hi always hacts and conducts myself has becomes a gentleman, hand Hi knows what’s due to manners. Falls in chair. Asa Trenchard Steady, old hoss, steady. Mr. Binny Hi’m steady. Hi always was steady. Staggers across to L. H. Hi’m going to fetch clean glasses. Exit, L. 3 R. Asa Trenchard Now, Mr. Coyle, suppose you give us a song. Mr. Coyle Very drunk. I can’t sing, Mr. Trenchard, but I sometimes join in the chorus. Asa Trenchard Wal, give us a chorus. Mr. Coyle Will you assist in the vocalization thereof? Asa Trenchard Mimicing. Will do the best of my endeavors thereunto. Mr. Coyle Sings. “We won’t go home till morning.” Repeat. Repeat. Falls off chair, senseless. Asa Trenchard Finishing the strain. “I don’t think you’ll go home at all.” Now, then, quick, Murcott, before the butler comes back, get his keys. Abel Murcott gets keys from Mr. Coyle’s pocket and throws them to Asa Trenchard.
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