Sir Luke. But let us to business. And, first for the sake of the case: The parties, you know, are Hobson and Nobson? The object of litigation is a small parcel of land, which is to decide the fate of a borough. Mrs. Cir. True; called Turnbury Mead. Sir Luke. Very well. Then to bring matters to a short issue, it was agreed, that Nobson should on the premises cut down a tree, and Hobson bring his action of damage. Mrs. Cir. True, true. Sir Luke. The jury being, sworn and counsellors feed, the court may proceed.-Take your seats-But hold, I hope no gentleman has been— touched on both sides? All. Oh! fye! Sir Luke. Let silence be called: Sir Luke. But stop. To be regular, and provide for fresh causes, we must take no notice of the borough and lands, the real objects in view, but stick fast to the tree, which is of no importance at all. All. True, true. Sir Luke. Brother Circuit, you may proceed. Ser. So, my lord, being able to sit, there was no occasion for me. I can't put that girl's nonsense out of my head-my wife is young, to be sure, and loves pleasure, I own; but as to the main article, I have not the least ground to suspect her in that-No, no!-And then, Sir Luke! my prosian ami, the dearest friend I have in the Heyday! [Seeing the collation.] What the deuce have we here?-A collation!-So, so I see madam knows how to divert herself during my absence. What's this [Seing the block. Oh, ho! ha, ha, ha!--Well, that's pretty enough I protest-Poor girl! I see she could not be happy without having something at table that resembled me. How pleased she will be to find me here in propria persona! By your leave, Mrs. Cir. Gentleman of the jury.-I am in Mrs. Circuit-Sits down and eats.] Delicate this cause counsel for Hobson the plaintiff.eating, in troth-and the wine [Drinks.] The action is brought against Nebuchadnezzar Champaign, as I live!-must have t'other glass Nobson, that he the said Nobson did cut down -They little think how that gentleman there a tree, value twopence, and to his own use said regales himself in their absence-Ha, ha, ha! tree did convert-Nobson justifies, and claims -quite convenient, I vow--the heat of the wea- tree as his tree. We will, gentlemen, first state ther has made me- -Come brother coif, here's the probable evidence, and then come to the your health-[Drinks.] I must pledge myself I positive; and, first as to the probable.-When believe-[Drinks again.]-Devilish strong was this tree here belonging to Hobson, and shut! somebody's coming-[Gets up, and goes claimed by Nobson, cut down? was it cut down towards the wings. What do I see? Four law-publicly in the day, in the face of the sun, men, yers! What the devil can be the meaning of this? I women and children, all the world looking on? should be glad to get at the bottom of-Heyday!-No; it was cut down privately, in the night, in By your leave, brother Serjeant-I must crave the use of your robe-[Sits down, and gets under the gown.] Between ourselves, this is not the first time this gown has covered a fraud.. Enter SIR LUKE, COLONEL, MRS. CIRCUIT, and MRS SIMPER, dressed as Counsellors Sir Luke. Come, come, gentlemen dispatch, the court has been waiting some time, Brother Circuit, you have looked over your brief? Mrs. Cir. What, do you suppose, sir, that, like some of our brethren, I defer that till I come into court? No, no! Sir Luke. This cause contains the whole marrow and pith of all modern practice. Mrs. Cir. One should think, Sir Luke, you had been bred to the bar. Sir Luke. Child, I was some years in the temple; but the death of my brother robbed the robe of my labours. Mrs. Sim. What a loss to the public! Sir Luke. You are smart, Mrs. Simper. I can tell you Serjeant Shuffle, whose manner I studied; pronounced me a promising youth. Mrs. Sim. I don't doubt it. a dark night, nobody did see, nobody could see. Col. No, no, Mrs. Simper jogged the chair with her foot that was all. Sir Luke. For Hercules Hobson-(I could have sworn it had stirred)—I shan't, gentlemen upon this occasion, attempt to move your pas. sions, by flowing periods and rhetorical flowers, as Mr. Serjeant has done; no, gentlemen, if I get at your hearts, I will make my way through your heads however thick they may be.-In order to which, I will pursue the learned gentleman through what he calls his probable proofs: and first, as to this tree's being cut down in the night; in part we will grant him that point, but, under favour, not a dark night, Mr. Serjeant; no, quite the reverse; we can prove that the moon shone bright, with uncommon lustre, that night-so that it so be as how people did not see, that was none-[SERGEANT Sneezes.] Nay, Mrs. Circuit, if you break the thread of myMrs Cir. Me break!—I said nothing I'm sure. Sir Luke. That's true, but you sneezed. Sir Luke. I am sure somebody did; it could not be the head-consider the least interruption puts one out of one's-None of our faults, they might have looked on, and seen if they would. And then as to this beautiful tree, with which Mr. Serjeant has ornamented his spot-no, gentlemen, no such matter at all; I am instructed to say quite the reverse: a stunted tree, a blighted blasted tree; a tree not limbless, and leafless, but very near lifeless; that was the true state of the tree; and and then us to its use, we own it was a plumb-tree indeed, but not of the kind Mr. Serjeant sets forth, a damsin plumb; our proofs say loudly a bull-plumb; but if so be, and it had been a damsin plumb, will any man go for to say, that a damsin plumb is the best kind of plumb? not a whit. I take upon me to say. it is nota noun substantive plumb-with plenty of sugar it does pretty well indeed in a tart; but to eat it by itself, will Mr. Serjeant go to compare it with the queen-mother, the padrigons.Ser. [Appearing suddenly from under the gown.] The green gages, or orlines? Mrs. Cir. As I live 'tis my husband! Ser. Nay, Sir Luke, don't you run away, too— give be a buss-since I was born, I never heard a finer reply; I am sorry I did not hear your argument out-but I could not resist. Sir Luke. This, I own, was little surpriseHad you been long here, Mr. Serjeant? Ser. But the instant you entered. Sir Luke. So, then, all is safe. [Aside. Ser. But, come! won't you refresh you, Sir Luke--you have hard duty to-day. Sir Luke. I drank very freely at table. Ser. Nay, for the matter of that, I han't been idle. [Both Drink.] But come, throw off your gown, and let us finish the bottle: I han't had such a mind to be merry I can't tell the day when. Sir Luke. Nay, then, Mr. Serjeant, have at you! Come, here's long life and health to the law. [Drinks. Ser. I'll pledge that toast in a bumper.[Drinks.]—I'll take Charlotte's hint, and see if I can't draw the truth out of the knight by a bottle. [Aside. Sir Luke. I'll try if I can't fuddle the fool, and get rid of him that way. [Aside. Ser. I could not have thought it: why, where the deuce did you pick up all this? But by the by, pray who was the crier? Sir Luke. Did not you know her? Mrs. Sim per, your neighbour. Ser. A pestilent jade! she's a good one, I warrant. Sir Luke. She is thought very pretty what say you to a glass in her favour? Ser. By all means in the world! [They drink.] And that spark the clerk? Sir Luke. Colonel Secret, a friend to the lady you toasted. Ser. A friend! oh, ay, ay-I understand youCome let us join them together. Sir Luke. Allons! [Drinks.] Egad, I shall be caught in my own trap! I begin to feel myself flustered already [Aside. Ser. Delicate white wine, indeed! I like it better every glass. Drink and drive care away, Drink and be merry. [Sings. Sir Luke, True, my dear Serjeant-this is the searcher of secrets-the only key to the heart. Ser. Right boy, in veritas vino. Sir Luke. No deceit in a bumper. [Sings. Drink and be merry. Ser. Merry! damme, what a sweet fellow you are! what would I give to be half so jolly and gay y! Sir Luke. [Appearing very drunk.] Would you? and yet do you know, Serjeant, that at this very juncture of time, there is a thing has popped into my head, that distresses me very much. Ser. Then drive it out with a bumper [Drink.] Well, how is it now? Sir Luke.Now!-the matter is not mended at all. Ser. What the deuce is the business that so sticks in your stomach? Sir Luke. You know, my dear Serjeant, I am your friend, your real, your affectionate friend. Ser. I believe it, Sir Luke. Sir Luke. And yet for these six months I have concealed a secret, that touches you near, very near Ser. Me near! That was wrong, very wrong! friends should have all things in common. Sir Luke. That's what I said to myself; Sir Luke, says I, open your heart to your friend. But to tell you the truth, what sealed up my lips, was the fear that this secret should make you sulky and sad. Ser. Me sulky and sad! ha! ha! how little you know of me! Sir Luke. Swear, then, thou won't be uneasy. Ser. Well, I do. Sir Luke. [Rising.] Soft! let us see that all's safe. Well, Mr. Serjeant, do you know that you are a fine, honest fellow. Ser. Is that such a secret? Sir Luke. Be quiet; a damned honest fellow -but as to your wife Ser. Well? Sir Luke. She is an infamous strum Ser. How! it is a falsehood, Sir Luke! my wife is as virtuous a wom Sir Luke. Oh! if you are angry, your servant -I thought that the news would have pleased you-for, after all, what is the business to me! What do I get by the bargain? Ser. That's true; but then, would it not vex any man to hear his wife abused in such aSir Luke. Not if its true, you old fool! Ser. I say, it is false: prove it; give me that satisfaction, Sir Luke. Sir Luke. Oh! you shall have that pleasure directly; and to come at once to the point-you remember last New-year's Day how severely it froze? Ser. I do recollect. Ser. Ay, indeed? Sir Luke. Oh! fact! there is not the least doubt of the matter; this is no hearsay, d'ye see; I was by all the while. Ser. Very pretty! very fine, upon my word! Sir Luke. Was in my fault? what could I do? put yourself in my place; I must have been more or less than man to resist. Ser. Your fault, Sir Luke! no, no—you did but your duty-But as to my wife Sir Luke. She's a diabolical fiend; I shall hate her as long as I live. Ser. And I too. Sir Luke. Only think of her forcing me, as it were with my sword at my breast, to play such a trick; you, my dear Serjeant, the best, truest friend I have in the world! [Weeps. Ser.[Weeping.] Dry your tears, dear Sir Luke; I shall ever gratefully acknowledge your confidence in trusting me with the secret-[Taking him forward.] But I think it might be as well kept from the rest of the world. Sir Luke. My dear soul, do you think I would tell it to any mortal but you? No, no, not to my brother himseif-You are the only man upon earth I would trust. Ser. Ten thousand thanks, my dear friend! sure there is no comfort, no balsam in life like a friend-but I shall make Madam Circuit remember Sir Luke. We neither of us ought to forgive her-Where I you, I'd get a divorce. Ser. So I will-provided you will promise not to marry her after. Sir Luke. Me! I'll sooner be torn to pieces by wild horses-No, my dear friend, we will retire to my house in the country together, and Sir Luke. Very well; we were all invited to there, in innocence and simplicity, feeding our dine at Alderman Inkle's. Ser. Very right. Sir Luke. Well, and I did not go: Mrs. Circuit made me dine here in this house-Was it my fault? Ser. No, no, Sir Luke, no. Sir Luke. At table, says she-she said, I was the picture of you-Was it my fault? Ser. Well, and suppose you are? where's the mischief in that? Sir Luke. Be quiet, I tell you.-Then, throwing her arms round my neck-it is my husband himself I embrace; it is my little old man that I kiss!for she has a prodigious affection for you at bottom-Was it my fault? Ser. But what is there serious in this? dost think I mind such trifles? Sir Luke. Hold your tongue, you fool, for a moment-Then, throwing her teresa aside-upon my soul she is prodigious fine every where here -Was it my fault? Ser. My fault! my fault! I see no fault in all this. Sir Luke. [Hatching a cry.]-No! why then, my dear friend, do you know that I was so unworthy, so profligate, so abandoned-as to-Rises.] say no more, the business is done. pigs and pigeons, like Pyramus and Thisbe, we will live the paragon of the age. Ser. Agreed; we will be the whole earth to each other; for, as Mr. Shakespur says, "The friend thou hast, and his adoption tried, Clasp to thy soul, and quit the world beside.'— Sir Luke. Zouns, here comes Madam Serjeant herself! Enter MRS. CIRCUIT. Mrs. Cir. So, gentleman! a sweet tete-a-tete you have been holding-But I know it all; not a syllable you have said has been lost. Sir Luke. Then I hope you have been well entertained, Mrs. Circuit? Mrs. Cir. And you, you mean spirited, dastardly wretch, to lend a patient ear to his infamous, improbable tales, equally shameful both to you and me! Ser. How, madam? have you the assurance— Mrs. Cir. Yes, sir, the assurance that innocence gives. There is not a soul, I thank heaven, that can lay the least soil, the least spot, on my virtue; nor is there a man on earth, but yourself would have sat, and silently listened to the fictions and fables of this intemperate sot. Ser. Why, to be sure, the knight is overtaken a little; very near drunk. Sir Luke. I hope he believes it's a lie. [Aside. Mrs. Cir. Do me instant justice on this defamer, this liar, or never more expect to see me in your house. Kingston, of a new pair of silk stockings, and to learn me a minuet. Sir Luke. Me! I should never have got you to turn out your toes. Jack. Ay, and moreover, you made me push out my chest, aud do so with my fingers, as if I was taking two pinches of snuff. Sir Luke. You see, Mr. Serjeant, what a fond Ser. I begin to find out the fraud; this is allness I have for every twig of your family. a flam of the knight's! Mrs. Cir. I'll drive this instant to a friend of mine in the Commons, and see if no satisfaction can be had, for blasting the reputation of a woman like me-And, hark you, sir, what inducement, what devil could prompt Ser. Ay; what devil could prompt- Mrs. Cir. But I guess at your motive; you flattered yourself, that, by marrying Charlotte, and discarding of me, you should engross all his affections and Ser. True, true- -Stop, my life, let me come at him a little: Hark you, Mr. Knight? I begin to discover that you are a very sad dog. Sir Luke. Et tu, Brute! I have Ser. Brute! you'll find I am not the brute Sir Luke. Both sides of the question! Ser. So, in both cases, get out of my house! Ser. Troop, I tell you, and never again enter these walls- -you have libelled my wife, and I will see you no more. Sir Luke. Was there ever such a Ser. March! And as to my daughter, I would as soon marry her to a forma pauperis client. Ser. I shall thank you hereafter-But from you, Charlotte, I expected other guess Char. When, sir, you hear this whole matter explained, you will acquit me I am sure. Wood. Indeed, sir, I am wholly to blame; my being here was as much a surprise upon Miss Charlotte as Ser. But now you are here, pray what's your business? Jack. O! father, I can acquaint you with that he wanted me to bring a love-letter to Charlotte; so I told him he might bring it himself, for that I would not do any such thing for never so much, for fear of offending you. Ser. You mended the matter, indeed-But, after all, who, and what are you? Jack. It's the young gentleman that lives over our heads, to whom Mr. Fairplay is guardian. Ser. Who, Woodford? Ser. And are you, young man, in a situation to think of a wife? Wood. I am flattered, sir, that as justice is with me, I shall one day have no contemptible fortune to throw at her feet. Ser. Justice is! What signifies justice?-Is the law with you, you fool? Wood. With your help, sir, I should hope for their union, upon this occasion at least. Ser. Well, sir, I shall reconsider your papers; and if there are probable grounds, I may be in[Erit SIR LUKE.duced to hear your proposals. Mrs. Cir. Do you consider, Mr. Circuit, where you are pushing the fellow ?That chamber is Chariotte's. Enter SIR LUKE, Woodford, CHARLOTTE, and Sir Luke. Heyday! who the deuce have we bere -Pray walk in, my good folks-Your servant, Miss Charlotte; your servant, Mr. Whatdy'e-call-um.-Mr. Serjeant, you need not trouble yourself to cater for Miss; your family, you see, can provide for themselves. Ser. Heyday! What the deuce is all this? Sir Luke. Well said, my young limb of the law! Jack. Come, let us have none o'your-though I brought Mr.Woodford, you could not persuade me to do the same office for you-Father, never stir if he did not make me the proffer, if I would let him into the house the night you was at Wood. Nay then, sir, the recovering my paternal possessions makes me anxious indeed.Could I hope that the young lady's good wishes would attend me? Char. I have a father, and can have no will of my own. Sir Luke. So, then, it seems poor Pil Garlick here is discarded at once! Ser. Why, could you have the impudence, after what has happened to hope that Mrs. Cir. He has given wonderful proofs of his modesty. Sir Luke. Be quiet, Mrs. Circuit-Come, good folks, I will set all matters to right in a minute; and first, Mr. Serjeant, it becomes me to tell you, that I never intended to marry your daughter. Ser. How! never! Sir Luke. Never. She is a fine girl, I allow : but would it now, Mr. Serjeant, have been honest in me, to have robbed the whole sex of my person, and confined my favours to her? Ser. How! Sir Luke. No! I was struck with the im Sir Luke. Truth, upon my honour.Your wife there, will tell you the whole was a lie. Ser. Nay, then, indeed- -But with what face can I look up to my dear? I have injured Sir Luke. See me here prostrate to implore your clemency in behalf of my friend. Mrs. Cir. Of that I can't determine directly, -But as you seem to have some sense of your guilt, I shall grant you a reprieve for the present, which contrition and amendment may, perhaps, in time swell into a pardon : But if again offending you are caught! her beyond the hopes of forgiveness.-Would, Ser. Then let me suffer, dearee, as I ought. you, lovee, but pass an act of oblivion |