Scene II A Room in Sir Tunbelly Clumsy’s House. Enter Miss Hoyden, Nurse, and Tom Fashion
TOM FASHION.
This quick despatch of the chaplain’s I take so kindly it shall give him claim to my favour as long as I live, I assure you.
MISS HOYDEN.
And to mine too, I promise you.
NURSE.
I most humbly thank your honours; and may your children swarm about you like bees about a honeycomb!
MISS HOYDEN.
Ecod, with all my heart—the more the merrier, I say—ha, nurse?
Enter LORY.
LORY.
One word with you, for Heaven’s sake. [Taking TOM FASHION hastily aside.]
TOM FASHION.
What the devil’s the matter?
LORY.
Sir, your fortune’s ruined if you are not married. Yonder’s your brother arrived, with two coaches and six horses, twenty footmen, and a coat worth fourscore pounds—so judge what will become of your lady’s heart.
TOM FASHION.
Is he in the house yet?
LORY.
No, they are capitulating with him at the gate. Sir Tunbelly luckily takes him for an impostor; and I have told him that we have heard of this plot before.
TOM FASHION.
That’s right.—[Turning to MISS HOYDEN.] My dear, here’s a troublesome business my man tells me of, but don’t be frightened; we shall be too hard for the rogue. Here’s an impudent fellow at the gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my name upon him, in hopes to run away with you.
MISS HOYDEN.
Oh, the brazen-faced varlet! it’s well we are married, or maybe we might never have been so.
TOM FASHION.
[Aside.] Egad, like enough.—[Aloud.] Pr’ythee, nurse, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to the gate before I speak to him.
NURSE.
An’t please your honour, my lady and I had better, lock ourselves up till the danger be over.
TOM FASHION.
Do so, if you please.
MISS HOYDEN.
Not so fast; I won’t be locked up any more, now I’m married.
TOM FASHION.
Yes, pray, my dear, do, till we have seized this rascal.
MISS HOYDEN.
Nay, if you’ll pray me, I’ll do anything. [Exit with NURSE.]
TOM FASHION.
Hark you, sirrah, things are better than you imagine. The wedding’s over.
LORY.
The devil it is, sir! [Capers about.]
TOM FASHION.
Not a word—all’s safe—but Sir Tunbelly don’t know it, nor must not yet. So I am resolved to brazen the brunt of the business out, and have the pleasure of turning the impostor upon his lordship, which I believe may easily be done.
Enter SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY. Did you ever hear, sir, of so impudent an undertaking?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Never, by the mass; but we’ll tickle him, I’ll warrant you.
TOM FASHION.
They tell me, sir, he has a great many people with him, disguised like servants.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ay, ay, rogues enow, but we have mastered them. We only fired a few shot over their heads, and the regiment scoured in an instant.—Here, Tummus, bring in your prisoner.
TOM FASHION.
If you please, Sir Tunbelly, it will be best for me not to confront this fellow yet, till you have heard how far his impudence will carry him.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Egad, your lordship is an ingenious person. Your lordship, then, will please to step aside.
LORY.
[Aside.] ’Fore heavens, I applaud my master’s modesty! [Exit with TOM FASHION.]
Enter SERVANTS, with LORD FOPPINGTON
disarmed.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Come, bring him along, bring him along.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
What the plague do you mean, gentlemen? is it fair time, that you are all drunk before supper?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Drunk, sirrah! here’s an impudent rogue for you now. Drunk or sober, bully, I’m a justice o’ the peace, and know how to deal with strollers.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Strollers!
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ay, strollers. Come, give an account of yourself. What’s your name? where do you live? do you pay scot and lot? Come, are you a freeholder or a copyholder?
LORD FOPPINGTON.
And why dost thou ask me so many impertinent questions?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Because I’ll make you answer ’em, before I have done with you, you rascal, you!
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Before Gad, all the answer I can make to them is, that you are a very extraordinary old fellow, stap my vitals.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Nay, if thou art joking deputy-lieutenants, we know how to deal with you.—Here, draw a warrant for him immediately.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
A warrant! What the devil is’t thou wouldst be at, old gentleman?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
I would be at you, sirrah, (if my hands were not tied as a magistrate,) and with these two double fists beat your teeth down your throat, you dog, you! [Driving him.]
LORD FOPPINGTON.
And why wouldst thou spoil my face at that rate?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
For your design to rob me of my daughter, villain.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Rob thee of thy daughter! Now do I begin to believe I am in bed and asleep, and that all this is but a dream. Pr’ythee, old father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one question?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
I can’t tell whether I will or not, till I know what it is.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Why, then, it is, whether thou didst not write to my Lord Foppington, to come down and marry thy daughter?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Yes, marry, did I, and my Lord Foppington is come down, and shall marry my daughter before she’s a day older.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Now give me thy hand, old dad; I thought we should understand one another at last.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
The fellow’s mad!—Here, bind him hand and foot. [They bind him.]
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Nay, pr’ythee, knight, leave fooling; thy jest begins to grow dull.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Bind him, I say—he’s mad: bread and water, a dark room, and a whip, may bring him to his senses again.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Pr’ythee, Sir Tunbelly, why should you take such an aversion to the freedom of my address as to suffer the rascals thus to skewer down my arms like a rabbit?—[Aside.] Egad, if I don’t awake, by all that I can see, this is like to prove one of the most impertinent dreams that ever I dreamt in my life.
Re-enter MISS HOYDEN and NURSE.
MISS HOYDEN.
[Going up to LORD FOPPINGTON.] Is this he that would have run—Fough, how he stinks of sweets!—Pray, father, let him be dragged through the horse-pond.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
This must be my wife, by her natural inclination to her husband. [Aside.]
MISS HOYDEN.
Pray, father, what do you intend to do with him—hang him?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
That, at least, child.
NURSE.
Ay, and it’s e’en too good for him too.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Madame la gouvernante, I presume: hitherto this appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary families that ever man of quality matched into. [Aside.]
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
What’s become of my lord, daughter?
MISS HOYDEN.
He’s just coming, sir.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
My lord! what does he mean by that, now? [Aside.]
Re-enter TOM FASHION and LORY. Stap my vitals, Tam, now the dream’s out! [Runs.]
TOM FASHION.
Is this the fellow, sir, that designed to trick me of your daughter?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
This is he, my lord. How do you like him? Is not he a pretty fellow to get a fortune?
TOM FASHION.
I find by his dress he thought your daughter might be taken with a beau.
MISS HOYDEN.
Oh, gemini! is this a beau? let me see him again. [Surveys him.] Ha! I find a beau is no such ugly thing, neither.
TOM FASHION.
[Aside.] Egad, she’ll be in love with him presently—I’ll e’en have him sent away to jail.—[To LORD FOPPINGTON.] Sir, though your undertaking shows you a person of no extraordinary modesty, I suppose you ha’n’t confidence enough to expect much favour from me?
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent fellow.
NURSE.
Look, if the varlet has not the effrontery to call his lordship plain Thomas!
LORD FOPPINGTON.
My Lord Foppington, shall I beg one word with your lordship?
NURSE.
Ho, ho! it’s my lord with him now! See how afflictions will humble folks.
MISS HOYDEN.
Pray, my lord—[To FASHION]—don’t let him whisper too close, lest he bite your ear off.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
I am not altogether so hungry as your ladyship is pleased to imagine.—[Aside to TOM FASHION.] Look you, Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to you as I ought, but I hope you’ll forgive what’s past, and accept of the five thousand pounds I offer—thou mayst live in extreme splendour with it, stap my vitals!
TOM FASHION.
It’s a much easier matter to prevent a disease than to cure it. A quarter of that sum would have secured your mistress, twice as much cannot redeem her. [Aside to LORD FOPPINGTON.]
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Well, what says he?
TOM FASHION.
Only the rascal offered me a bribe to let him go.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ay, he shall go, with a plague to him!—lead on, constable.
Enter SERVANT.
SERVANT.
Sir, here is Muster Loveless, and Muster Colonel Townly, and some ladies to wait on you. [To TOM FASHION.]
LORY.
[Aside to TOM FASHION.] So, sir, what will you do now?
TOM FASHION.
[Aside to LORY.] Be quiet; they are in the plot.—[Aloud.] Only a few friends, Sir Tunbelly, whom I wish to introduce to you.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Thou art the most impudent fellow, Tam, that ever nature yet brought into the world.—Sir Tunbelly, strike me speechless, but these are my friends and acquaintance, and my guests, and they will soon inform thee whether I am the true Lord Foppington or not.
Enter LOVELESS, COLONEL TOWNLY, AMANDA, and BERINTHIA.—LORD FOPPINGTON accosts them as they pass, but none answer him. Fash.
So, gentlemen, this is friendly; I rejoice to see you.
COLONEL TOWNLY.
My lord, we are fortunate to be the witnesses of your lordship’s happiness.
LOVELESS.
But your lordship will do us the honour to introduce us to Sir Tunbelly Clumsy?
AMANDA.
And us to your lady.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Gad take me, but they are all in a story! [Aside.]
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Gentlemen, you do me much honour; my Lord Foppington’s friends will ever be welcome to me and mine.
TOM FASHION.
My love, let me introduce you to these ladies.
MISS HOYDEN.
By goles, they look so fine and so stiff, I am almost ashamed to come nigh ’em.
AMANDA.
A most engaging lady indeed!
MISS HOYDEN.
Thank ye, ma’am.
BERINTHIA.
And I doubt not will soon distinguish herself in the beau monde.
MISS HOYDEN.
Where is that?
TOM FASHION.
You’ll soon learn, my dear.
LOVELESS.
But Lord Foppington—
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Sir!
LOVELESS.
Sir! I was not addressing myself to you, sir!—Pray who is this gentleman? He seems rather in a singular predicament—
COLONEL TOWNLY.
For so well-dressed a person, a little oddly circumstanced, indeed.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ha! ha! ha!—So, these are your friends and your guests, ha, my adventurer?
LORD FOPPINGTON.
I am struck dumb with their impudence, and cannot positively say whether I shall ever speak again or not.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Why, sir, this modest gentleman wanted to pass himself upon me as Lord Foppington, and carry off my daughter.
LOVELESS.
A likely plot to succeed, truly, ha! ha!
LORD FOPPINGTON.
As Gad shall judge me, Loveless, I did not expect this from thee. Come, pr’ythee confess the joke; tell Sir Tunbelly that I am the real Lord Foppington, who yesterday made love to thy wife; was honoured by her with a slap on the face, and afterwards pinked through the body by thee.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
A likely story, truly, that a peer would behave thus.
LOVELESS.
A pretty fellow, indeed, that would scandalize the character he wants to assume; but what will you do with him, Sir Tunbelly?
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Commit him, certainly, unless the bride and bridegroom choose to pardon him.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Bride and bridegroom! For Gad’s sake, Sir Tunbelly, ’tis tarture to me to hear you call ’em so.
MISS HOYDEN.
Why, you ugly thing, what would you have him call us—dog and cat?
LORD FOPPINGTON.
By no means, miss; for that sounds ten times more like man and wife than t’other.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
A precious rogue this to come a-wooing!
Re-enter SERVANT.
SERVANT.
There are some gentlefolks below to wait upon Lord Foppington. [Exit.]
COLONEL TOWNLY.
’Sdeath, Tom, what will you do now? [Aside to TOM FASHION.]
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Now, Sir Tunbelly, here are witnesses who I believe are not corrupted.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Peace, fellow!—Would your lordship choose to have your guests shown here, or shall they wait till we come to ’em?
TOM FASHION.
I believe, Sir Tunbelly, we had better not have these visitors here yet.—[Aside.] Egad, all must out.
LOVELESS.
Confess, confess; we’ll stand by you. [Aside to TOM FASHION.]
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Nay, Sir Tunbelly, I insist on your calling evidence on both sides—and if I do not prove that fellow an impostor—
TOM FASHION.
Brother, I will save you the trouble, by now confessing that I am not what I have passed myself for.—Sir Tunbelly, I am a gentleman, and I flatter myself a man of character; but’tis with great pride I assure you I am not Lord Foppington.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ouns!—what’s this?—an impostor?—a cheat?—fire and faggots, sir, if you are not Lord Foppington, who the devil are you?
TOM FASHION.
Sir, the best of my condition is, I am your son-in-law; and the worst of it is, I am brother to that noble peer.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Impudent to the last, Gad dem me!
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
My son-in-law! not yet, I hope.
TOM FASHION.
Pardon me, sir; thanks to the goodness of your chaplain, and the kind offices of this gentlewoman.
LORY.
’Tis true indeed, sir; I gave your daughter away, and Mrs. Nurse, here, was clerk.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Knock that rascal down!—But speak, Jezebel, how’s this?
NURSE.
Alas! your honour, forgive me; I have been overreached in this business as well as you. Your worship knows, if the wedding-dinner had been ready, you would have given her away with your own hands.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
But how durst you do this without acquainting me?
NURSE.
Alas! if your worship had seen how the poor thing begged and prayed, and clung and twined about me like ivy round an old wall, you would say, I who had nursed it, and reared it, must have had a heart like stone to refuse it.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ouns! I shall go mad! Unloose my lord there, you scoundrels!
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Why, when these gentlemen are at leisure, I should be glad to congratulate you on your son-in-law, with a little more freedom of address.
MISS HOYDEN.
Egad, though, I don’t see which is to be my husband after all.
LOVELESS.
Come, come, Sir Tunbelly, a man of your understanding must perceive that an affair of this kind is not to be mended by anger and reproaches.
COLONEL TOWNLY.
Take my word for it, Sir Tunbelly, you are only tricked into a son-in-law you may be proud of: my friend Tom Fashion is as honest a fellow as ever breathed.
LOVELESS.
That he is, depend on’t; and will hunt or drink with you most affectionately: be generous, old boy, and forgive them—
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Never! the hussy!—when I had set my heart on getting her a title.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Now, Sir Tunbelly, that I am untrussed—give me leave to thank thee for the very extraordinary reception I have met with in thy damned, execrable mansion; and at the same time to assure you, that of all the bumpkins and blockheads I have had the misfortune to meek with, thou art the most obstinate and egregious, strike me ugly!
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
What’s this! I believe you are both rogues alike.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
No, Sir Tunbelly, thou wilt find to thy unspeakable mortification, that I am the real Lord Foppington, who was to have disgraced myself by an alliance with a clod; and that thou hast matched thy girl to a beggarly younger brother of mine, whose title deeds might be contained in thy tobacco-box.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Puppy! puppy!—I might prevent their being beggars, if I chose it; for I could give ’em as good a rent-roll as your lordship.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Ay, old fellow, but you will not do that—for that would be acting like a Christian, and thou art a barbarian, stap my vitals.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Udzookers! now six such words more, and I’ll forgive them directly.
LOVELESS.
’Slife, Sir Tunbelly, you should do it, and bless yourself—Ladies, what say you?
AMANDA.
Good Sir Tunbelly, you must consent.
BERINTHIA.
Come, you have been young yourself, Sir Tunbelly.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Well then, if I must, I must; but turn—turn that sneering lord out, however, and let me be revenged on somebody. But first look whether I am a barbarian or not; there, children, I join your hands; and when I’m in a better humour, I’ll give you my blessing.
LOVELESS.
Nobly done, Sir Tunbelly! and we shall see you dance at a grandson’s christening yet.
MISS HOYDEN.
By goles, though, I don’t understand this! What! an’t I to be a lady after all? only plain Mrs.—What’s my husband’s name, nurse?
NURSE.
Squire Fashion.
MISS HOYDEN.
Squire, is he?—Well, that’s better than nothing.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
[Aside.] Now I will put on a philosophic air, and show these people, that it is not possible to put a man of my quality out of countenance.—[Aloud.] Dear Tam, since things are fallen out, pr’ythee give me leave to wish thee joy; I do it de bon coeur, strike me dumb! You have married into a family of great politeness and uncommon elegance of manners, and your bride appears to be a lady beautiful in person, modest in her deportment, refined in her sentiments, and of nice morality, split my windpipe!
MISS HOYDEN.
By goles, husband, break his bones if he calls me names!
TOM FASHION.
Your lordship may keep up your spirits with your grimace, if you please; I shall support mine, by Sir Tunbelly’s favour, with this lady and three thousand pounds a year.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Well, adieu, Tam!—Ladies, I kiss your, hands!—Sir Tunbelly, I shall now quit this thy den; but while I retain the use of my arms, I shall ever remember thou art a demned horrid savage; Ged demn me! [Exit.]
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
By the mass, ’tis well he’s gone—for I should ha’ been provoked, by-and-by, to ha’ dun un a mischief. Well, if this is a lord, I think Hoyden has luck on her side, in troth.
COLONEL TOWNLY.
She has, indeed, Sir Tunbelly.—But I hear the fiddles; his lordship, I know, has provided ’em.
LOVELESS.
Oh, a dance and a bottle, Sir Tunbelly, by all means!
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
I had forgot the company below; well—what—we must be merry, then, ha? and dance and drink, ha? Well, ’fore George, you shan’t say I do these things by halves. Son-in-law there looks like a hearty rogue, so we’ll have a night on’t: and which of these ladies will be the old man’s partner, ha?—Ecod, I don’t know how I came to be in so good a humour.
BERINTHIA.
Well, Sir Tunbelly, my friend and I both will endeavour to keep you so: you have done a generous action, and are entitled to our attention. If you should be at a loss to divert your new guests, we will assist you to relate to them the plot of your daughter’s marriage, and his lordship’s deserved mortification; a subject which perhaps may afford no bad evening’s entertainment.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Ecod, with all my heart; though I am a main bungler at a long story.
BERINTHIA.
Never fear; we will assist you, if the tale is judged worth being repeated; but of this you may be assured, that while the intention is evidently to please, British auditors will ever be indulgent to the errors of the performance. [Exeunt omnes.]