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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a draught that cured the effect of the draught, and that draught was a draft that didn’t pay the doctor’s bill. Didn’t that draught—
Florence Trenchard
Good gracious! what a number of draughts. You have almost a game of draughts.
Lord Dundreary
Ha! ha! ha!
Florence Trenchard
What’s the matter?
Lord Dundreary
That wath a joke, that wath.
Florence Trenchard
Where’s the joke? Lord Dundreary screams and turns to Mrs. Mountchessington.
Mrs. Mountchessington
No.
Lord Dundreary
She don’t see it. Don’t you see—a game of drafts—pieces of wound wood on square pieces of leather. That’s the idea. Now, I want to put your brains to the test. I want to ask you a whime.
Florence Trenchard
A whime, what’s that?
Lord Dundreary
A whime is a widdle, you know.
Florence Trenchard
A widdle!
Lord Dundreary
Yeth; one of those things, like—why is so-and-so or somebody like somebody else.
Florence Trenchard
Oh, I see, you mean a conundrum.
Lord Dundreary
Yeth, a drum, that’s the idea. What is it gives a cold in the head, cures a cold, pays the doctor’s bill and makes the home-guard look for substitutes? Florence Trenchard repeats it. Yeth, do you give it up?
Florence Trenchard
Yes.
Lord Dundreary
Well, I’ll tell you—a draught. Now I’ve got a better one that that: When is a dog’s tail not a dog’s tail? Florence Trenchard repeats. During this Florence Trenchard, Mrs. Mountchessington and Lord Dundreary are downstage.
Florence Trenchard
Yes, and willingly.
Lord Dundreary
When it’s a cart. They look at him enquiringly.
Florence Trenchard
Why, what in earth has a dog’s tail to do with a cart?
Lord Dundreary
When it moves about, you know. A horse makes a cart move, so does a dog make his tail move.
Florence Trenchard
Oh, I see what you mean—when it’s a wagon. Wags the letter in her hand.
Lord Dundreary
Well, a wagon and a cart are the same thing, ain’t they! That’s the idea—it’s the same thing.
Florence Trenchard
They are not the same. In the case of your conundrum there’s a very great difference.
Lord Dundreary
Now I’ve got another. Why does a dog waggle his tail?
Florence Trenchard
Upon my word, I never inquired.
Lord Dundreary
Because the tail can’t waggle the dog. Ha! Ha!
Florence Trenchard
Ha! ha! Is that your own, Dundreary?
Lord Dundreary
Now I’ve got one, and this one is original.
Florence Trenchard
No, no, don’t spoil the last one.
Lord Dundreary
Yeth; but this is extremely interesting.
Mrs. Mountchessington
Do you think so, Lord Dundreary?
Lord Dundreary
Yeth. Miss Georgina likes me to tell her my jokes. By the by, talking of that lonely sufferer, isn’t she an interesting invalid? They do say that’s what’s the matter with me. I’m an interesting invalid.
Florence Trenchard
Oh, that accounts for what I have heard so many young ladies say—Florence, dear, don’t you think Lord Dundreary’s extremely interesting? I never knew what they meant before.
Lord Dundreary
Yeth, the doctor recommends me to drink donkey’s milk.
Florence Trenchard
Hiding laugh. Oh, what a clever man he must be. He knows we generally thrive best on our native food. Goes up.
Lord Dundreary
Looking first at Florence Trenchard and then at Mrs. Mountchessington. I’m so weak, and that is so strong. Yes, I’m naturally very weak, and I want strengthening. Yes, I guess I’ll try it.
Enter Augusta. Business with Lord Dundreary, who finally exits and brings on Georgina, L. 1 E.
Lord Dundreary
Look at this lonely sufferer. Bringing on Georgina, seats her on sofa, L. There, repothe yourself.
Georgina
Fanning herself. Thank you, my lord. Everybody is kind to me, and I am so delicate.
Augusta
At table. Captain De Boots, do help to unravel these wools for me, you have such an eye for color.
Florence Trenchard
An eye for color! Yes, especially green.
Lord Dundreary
Screams. Ha! ha! ha!
All
What’s the matter?
Lord Dundreary
Why, that wath a joke, that wath.
Florence Trenchard
Where was the joke?
Lord Dundreary
Especially, ha! ha!
Sir Edward Trenchard
Florence, dear, I must leave you to represent me to my guests. These letters will give me a great deal of business today.
Florence Trenchard
Well, papa, remember I am your little clerk and person of all work.
Sir Edward Trenchard
No, no; this is private business—money matters, my love, which women know nothing about. Aside. Luckily for them. I expect Mr. Coyle today.
Florence Trenchard
Dear papa, how I wish you would get another agent.
Sir Edward Trenchard
Nonsense, Florence, impossible. He knows my affairs. His father was agent for the late Baronet. He’s one of the family, almost.
Florence Trenchard
Papa, I have implicit faith in my own judgement of faces. Depend upon it, that man is not to be trusted.
Sir Edward Trenchard
Florence, you are ridiculous. I could not get on a week without him. Aside. Curse him, I wish I could! Mr. Coyle is a most intelligent agent, and a most faithful servant of the family.
Enter Mr. Binny, L. 3 E.
Mr. Binny
Mr. Coyle and hagent with papers.
Sir Edward Trenchard
Show him into the library. I will be with him presently. Exit Mr. Binny.
Florence Trenchard
Remember the archery meeting, papa. It is at three.
Sir Edward Trenchard
Yes, yes, I’ll remember. Aside. Pretty time for such levity when ruin stares me in the face. Florence, I leave you as my representative. Aside. Now to prepare myself to meet my Shylock. Exit, R. 1 E.
Florence Trenchard
Why will papa not trust me? Harry Vernon comes down, R. Oh, Harry! I wish he would find out what a lot of pluck and common sense there is in this feather head of mine.
Lord Dundreary
Miss Florence, will you be kind enough to tell Miss Georgina all about that American relative of yours.
Florence Trenchard
Oh, about my American cousin; certainly. Aside to Harry Vernon. Let’s have some fun. Well, he’s about 17 feet high!
Lord Dundreary
Good gracious! 17 feet high!
Florence Trenchard
They are all 17 feet high in America, ain’t they, Mr. Vernon?
Harry Vernon
Yes, that’s about the average height.
Florence Trenchard
And they have long black hair that reaches down
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