The School for Scandal by Richard Brinsley Sheridan (e reading malayalam books TXT) 📕
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One of the most celebrated English comedies of manners, Sheridan’s The School for Scandal was first produced in 1777 at London’s Drury Lane Theatre. It opened just a year after Sheridan succeeded the famous actor/manager David Garrick as manager and, after Garrick had read the play, he even volunteered to write the prologue—lending his much desired endorsement to the production. The School for Scandal was extremely well received by its audiences as well as by many contemporary critics.
The plot revolves around members of London’s Georgian society who delight in rumor and gossip and the infelicities and flaws of others. Although they draw their victims from their own membership, they let no action go un-noted or uncriticized. But as the plot unfolds events don’t always prove quite so titillating, and not a few find themselves victims of their own love of scandal.
The comedy of manners was a staple of Restoration theatre with William Congreve and Molière being its most famous proponents. After it fell out of favor it was revived in the later part of the 1700s when a new generation of playwrights like William Goldsmith and Richard Sheridan took up writing them again. Praised for its tight writing and razor wit, The School for Scandal skewered high-society with such spirited ridicule and insight that it earned Sheridan the epithet of “the modern Congreve.”
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- Author: Richard Brinsley Sheridan
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A room in Charles Surface’s house.
Enter Trip, Moses, and Sir Oliver Surface. Trip Here, Master Moses! if you’ll stay a moment, I’ll try whether—what’s the gentleman’s name? Sir Oliver Mr. Moses, what is my name? Aside to Moses. Moses Mr. Premium. Trip Premium—Very well. Exit Trip, taking snuff. Sir Oliver To judge by the servants, one wouldn’t believe the master was ruined. But what!—sure, this was my brother’s house? Moses Yes, sir; Mr. Charles bought it of Mr. Joseph, with the furniture, pictures, etc., just as the old gentleman left it. Sir Peter thought it a piece of extravagance in him. Sir Oliver In my mind, the other’s economy in selling it to him was more reprehensible by half. Reenter Trip. Trip My master says you must wait, gentlemen: he has company, and can’t speak with you yet. Sir Oliver If he knew who it was wanted to see him, perhaps he would not send such a message? Trip Yes, yes, sir; he knows you are here—I did not forget little Premium: no, no, no. Sir Oliver Very well; and I pray, sir, what may be your name? Trip Trip, sir; my name is Trip, at your service. Sir Oliver Well, then, Mr. Trip, you have a pleasant sort of place here, I guess? Trip Why, yes—here are three or four of us pass our time agreeably enough; but then our wages are sometimes a little in arrear—and not very great either—but fifty pounds a year, and find our own bags and bouquets!12 Sir Oliver Bags and bouquets! halters and bastinadoes. Aside. Trip And apropos, Moses—have you been able to get me that little bill discounted? Sir Oliver Wants to raise money too!—mercy on me! Has his distresses too, I warrant, like a lord, and affects creditors and duns. Aside. Moses ’T was not to be done, indeed, Mr. Trip. Trip Good lack, you surprise me! My friend Brush has endorsed it, and I thought when he put his name at the back of a bill ’twas the same as cash. Moses No, ’t wouldn’t do. Trip A small sum—but twenty pounds. Hark’ee, Moses, do you think you couldn’t get it me by way of annuity? Sir Oliver An annuity! ha! ha! a footman raise money by way of annuity! Well done, luxury, egad! Aside. Moses Well, but you must insure your place. Trip Oh, with all my heart! I’ll insure my place and my life too, if you please. Sir Oliver It is more than I would your neck. Aside. Moses But is there nothing you could deposit? Trip Why, nothing capital of my master’s wardrobe has dropped lately; but I could give you a mortgage on some of his winter clothes, with equity of redemption before November—or you shall have the reversion of the French velvet,13 or a post-obit on the blue and silver;—these, I should think, Moses, with a few pair of point ruffles, as a collateral security—hey, my little fellow? Moses Well, well. Bell rings. Trip Egad, I heard the bell! I believe, gentlemen, I can now introduce you. Don’t forget the annuity, little Moses! This way, gentlemen, I’ll insure my place, you know. Sir Oliver Aside. If the man be a shadow of the master, this is the temple of dissipation indeed! Exeunt. Scene IIIAnother room in the same.
Charles Surface, Sir Harry Bumper, Careless, and Gentlemen, discovered drinking. Charles Surface ’Fore heaven, ’tis true!—there’s the great degeneracy of the age. Many of our acquaintance have taste, spirit, and politeness; but, plague on’t, they won’t drink. Careless It is so, indeed, Charles! they give in to all the substantial luxuries of the table, and abstain from nothing but wine and wit. Oh, certainly society suffers by it intolerably! for now, instead of the social spirit of raillery that used to mantle over a glass of bright Burgundy, their conversation is become just like the Spa-water they drink, which has all the pertness and flatulency of champagne, without its spirit or flavour. 1st Gentleman But what are they to do who love play better than wine? Careless True! there’s Sir Harry diets himself for gaining, and is now under a hazard regimen. Charles Surface Then he’ll have the worst of it. What! you wouldn’t train a horse for the course by keeping him from corn? For my part, egad, I am never so successful as when I am a little merry: let me throw on a bottle of champagne, and I never lose. All Hey, what? Charles Surface At least I never feel my losses, which is exactly the same thing. 2nd Gentleman Ay, that I believe. Charles Surface And then, what man can pretend to be a believer in love, who is an abjurer of wine? ’T is the test by which the lover knows his own heart. Fill a dozen bumpers to a dozen beauties, and she that floats at the top is the maid that has bewitched you. Careless Now then, Charles, be honest, and give us your real favourite. Charles Surface Why, I have withheld her only in compassion to you. If I toast her, you must give a round of her peers, which is impossible—on earth. Careless Oh! then we’ll find some canonized vestals or heathen goddesses that will do, I warrant! Charles Surface Here then, bumpers, you rogues! bumpers! Maria! Maria!— Sir Harry Maria who? Charles Surface Oh, damn the surname!—’tis too formal to be registered in Love’s calendar—Maria!
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