[SCENE, Jeffrey discovered sitting at a Table, in a loose Banyan, leaning on the Table with his Elbow.]
Jeffrey
Heighho!—I am devilishly low spirited—fellow's advice to take
care of my health has almost kill'd me—I wish I had met
my old acquaintance, Dick Pestle, any where else: now in England I shou'd
call him a damn'd rascally son of an apothecary, that wanted to run up a bill
with me—but here it seems they get nothing by killing people; so he has
been advising me how to preserve my health—yes—that liver complaint
he talks of is so common—ah! I'm certainly going to have it. [Feeling
his stomach and sides.]—Let's see—he said walking
was good—ah! well, I'll walk then—I'm certainly going to have it
[Walks backwards and forwards very quick while he speaks the
rest.]—and my poor dear young ladies too—two to
one but we're all three buried in one
grave, in this Mazaga ha gag ha—damn
the name—I've got it wrote down here, but for the foul of me, I can neither
read it nor spell it, so that when I return home, I shan't even be able to
tell where I've been. [Bell rings.] So! my ladies
want me, and I han't got my coat back—Here, Caesar!
[Enter Caesar. A black Slave.]
Jef.
Have you brush'd my coat yet?
Caesar
I carry it, Massa.
Jef.
Carried it—where? I bid you brush it.
Caesar
I carry it to Pompey, Mass.
Jef.
Well, then, go and fetch it back again—[Bell Rings.]—my
lady's bell rings, don't you hear? and I must attend her.
Caesar
No, Massa,; Thomas vil bring it ven it's brush.
Jef.
Hey! why, what the vengeance, you and Pompey, and Thomas, and I don't know
who! to take and brush a coat, and my lady ringing all the while for me,
you black rascal!
Caesar
Vy she no ring for me, Massa.
Jef.
But can I go to her without my coat, you stupid animal? run and fetch it,
you dog, this minute.
Caesar
No, Massa; I carry it—I no fetch it.—[Walks up the
stage very composedly.]
Jef.
Why, you impudent black rascal—if ever—now cou'd I swear myself
into a passion with these damn'd dogs of Blackamoors—but, oh, my liver!—come
hither you rascal—you a slave, quotha! why, you dog, do you know you
possess all the impudence of liberty, without seeming to know any thing
of the matter?
Caesar
Ah, Massa, me no liberty!
Jef
Why, you dog, don't you take the liberty only to do what you please? why there
is not a servant in all England more his own master than you are; why I have
as easy a place as man can have with my young ladies, but do you think they
and their family would have advanc'd me to a servant
out of livery, as I am now, if I had given myself such airs as you do?
Caesar
Give myself no airs, Massa; only do as de rest do—Ah, Massa! you
tink ve poor blacks know noting, but me can feel—me slave! [Shakes
his head and sighs.]
Jef.
Why an't you fed, cloth'd, and kept to do nothing? what wou'd you have more?
Caesar
Yes, Massa; der is my lady's fine bird I do de same by—but if I leave
de cage door open—ah, vil he no fly avay?—but no talk of dis—it
make me sick here. [Points to his heart.]
Jef.
Hah! why so?
Caesar
Ah! I loss good Massa, I love dearly—He made great deal money; and
he vas give me liberty, dear liberty! ven ve vas got to your country—but
he dies just as he vas go aboard ship—broke my heart—left poor
me slave!
Jef.
Poor fellow! I pity you for that—How came you here?
Caesar
Oh, dey sell me vid de horse, and de good, and de house—all dis vas
his; and to live here make me more sad, because me love my Massa, he so
good to de poor blacks.
Jef.
Damme if I don't pity you from my soul for this.
Caesar
Ah! I vas live—fly for my Massa—'cause I love him dearly—now
no good Massa—no joy—no heart—
Jef.
Now, if I cou'd manage to buy this poor fellow, and make him a present of
himself, how I shou'd make him stare! Harkee, my lad, as you don't
seem of much use in this family, do you think your lady wou'd part with
you? Shou'd you like to serve me and go over to England?
Caesar
Oh, Massa! yes, yes—[leaps for joy.]—me
love England, 'cause my old Massa love it—he hate India—so do
I.
Jef.
Well, then, I'll speak to your lady.
Caesar
No, no, Massa, lady know nothing of me; Mr. Norton is de chum of de house—you
speak to him—Massa often say, in passion, he sell me.
Jef.
Oh, very well—a damn'd unconscionable dog though, I find him to be——so
if he can get any thing by it, I don't doubt his consent; for, I believe
he'd sell his own skin if he cou'd spare it—[Bell rings.]—the
bell rings again—you dog will you fetch my coat now?
Caesar
Yes, yes, Massa—I run—I fly for good Massa. [Runs
off.]
Jef.
There, there's a proof these poor devils don't know when they're well us'd
truly—if I can but procure this poor fellow his liberty—by Heavens
the very thought warms my heart——though I han't done much harm,
never did much good—so now it's time to begin. [Exit after
Caesar.]
[SCENE, An open Walk. Enter Lieutenant Dormer and Mr. Supple.]
Dor.
Attend you to the Resident's, dy'e say, Mr. Supple?
Sup.
Yes, yes, you must go with me directly, Dormer, to the Miss Moreton's—and,
egad, you must take care of your heart, for, I can tell you, they are enchanting
creatures! the eldest, Eliza, I find, is the Resident's favorite, and the
match is all concluded already—he has agreed to settle all her own
fortune on her, besides an immense jointure "from the old Don,"
and ten thousand pounds worth of jewels into the bargain.
Dor.
I think she ought to have had a great deal more, to have induc'd her to
accept such a match.
Sup.
Such a match! why do you consider she makes herself the first woman
here, with the likelihoods of being a young brilliant widow in a very short
space? considerations, let me tell you, of immense weight, and which no
woman that comes out to India can possibly refuse.
Dor.
Well, then, there's no great danger for the heart of a poor Lieutenant of
Seapoys.
Sup.
No, to be sure, you can't possibly have any chance with either of them—but
I was willing to caution you, because handsome young fellows are often too
apt to be conceited of themselves.
Dor.
Sir, I'm infinitely oblig'd to you for your kind advice. [Bowing.]
Sup.
Besides, [conceitedly] as the Resident's my particular
friend, and you know my consequence on that account is not very small, I
intend making proposals to the other myself.
Dor.
Umph! so I suspected.
Sup.
Therefore you see how the case stands, and that it is not possible you can
be supposed to make any advantage of this accident that introduces you to
their notice.
Dor.
You might have spar'd yourself all this trouble, good Mr. Supple; for I
have too much spirit to lay myself open to a repulse, by aspiring to an
honor my humble fortune dare not pretend to—but, as you are so very
communicative, I shou'd be very glad if you wou'd inform me what business
these ladies can possibly have with me.
Sup.
Oh! it's a strange romantic affair——but I'm desired to say nothing
about it—so come along, for my time is of consequence! [Exit.]
Dor.
There's no making any thing of this fellow—but I have often heard my
friend Edwards speak highly of these young ladies—but, I know not why,
my heart's all agitation.
[Exit after Supple.]
[SCENE, A Room in Mrs. Tartar's House. Eliza and Louisa discovered.]
Eliza
Where can Jeffreys be! I have rung for him this half hour. Have you sent
him any where, Louisa?
Louisa
Not I—I suppose he is diverting himself with all the things and people
he sees here, so different from any thing he ever saw before!——I'll
ring again——oh, here he is.
[Enter Jeffreys, with the Ribbon of his Hair in his Hand, and his Hair hanging loose down his Back.]
Eliza
Why, Jeffreys, I have been ringing for you this half hour.
Jef.
O lord, yes, Ma'am; and I've heard you all the time. I shall certainly go
distracted, ladies, in this Mazag-ha-ga-gaga—this place here with its
hard name.
Louisa
Why so, Jeffreys?
Jef.
Why, Ma'am, here are so many Blackamoors kept to do nothing, that nothing
can I get done—I was without my coat, Madam, when you rung, [to
Eliza] and was obliged to wait the leisure of half a dozen of
them before I cou'd attend your orders—"for he that takes your coat
won't brush it—he that brushes it won't bring it—and he that brings
it, egad he won't put it on——so there was Thomas, Godfrey, and Caesar
to do what any lad in England wou'd have done by himself."—And Caesar
(in my hurrying him) pulls off the ribbon of my hair, which it seems, belongs
to the province of a damn'd Gentoo fellow,
that's gone out into the fields to eat his dinner, and having left me, I must
wait, unless I can tie it myself, until his return—though there are fifteen
of these black gentry loit-ring about there, doing nothing.
Eliza
Ha! ha! ha! poor Jeffreys! but you must consider it is owing to the heat
of the climate.
Jef.
"I rather believe, Ma'am, it's owing to pride and vanity of their employers."——I
beg, ladies, I may have all your commands at least a week or two beforehand,
or I shall never be able to get them executed.
[Pulls out a long Paper that falls one End of it on the Ground.]
Louisa
Mercy on us! Jeffreys, what's that! the bill of fare of the dinner the Resident
gives us to-morrow?
Jef.
Oh, no, Madam; by what I can learn, that won't be so over-long——no,
Madam, this is a list of the servants and slaves that belong to the retinue
of Mrs. Tartar, with an account of what they don't do, which I
have had written out.
Louisa
Why so, Jeffreys?
Jef.
I'll tell you, Madam; suppose I want to order your carriage, I may have half
a dozen of these gentry at my elbow, and yet not one of 'em the one I must
apply to, or that will fetch him—so that I cou'd sooner, in England,
get to the presence of His Majesty himself, than through this croud of attendants
waiting on the state of Mrs. Tartar, originally the daughter of a
tallow chandler in England.
Eliza
How do you know that, Jeffreys?
Jef.
O, Madam, ever thing is known here; for I have heard more about many of my
acquaintance in England, than I ever suspected there!—Yes, Madam, Mrs.
Tartar's father was a tallow chandler, who, thinking he might retrieve a broken
fortune in England, repair'd to this place, where he soon married a black
merchant's daughter, "with a great deal of money," and died worth
a million or two——Miss was sent over to her father's relations, in St.
Mary Axe, for education, and at her return, married Mr. Tartar, who originally
was the son and heir of a basket-maker in St.
Giles.
[Enter a black Servant.]
Ser.
Here one gentleman, want one lady.
Jef.
Coming directly. [Exit.]
Eliza
Perhaps this may be Dormer.
Louisa
If it is, cousin, do you speak to him; for you know my aukward bashfulness
to strangers.
[Re-enter Jeffreys.]
Jef.
There are two gentlemen without, Madam, from the Resident, and have sent
in this note.
Eliza
Two—then it can't be Dormer.—[Opens the Note and
reads—Louisa looking over her.]——"Um-um—my
particular friend, Mr. Timothy Supple, who will introduce him—a man
I have the utmost respect and affection for"——hang Mr. Timothy
Supple——to introduce Dormer by such a fellow! well! we must not
keep 'em without——conduct the gentlemen in, Jeffreys.
[Exit Jeffreys.]
Louisa
None but such an unfeeling mind as his, wou'd have sent another person to
be present on such an occasion.
[Enter Supple and Dormer.]
[Dormer dressed as a Lieutenant of Seapoys, with such a Broadsword by his Side as Officers of the Horse wear.]
Sup.
Ladies, your most obedient! I have the honor of paying my adorations to
the most beautiful of women that ever grac'd our settlement.—Ah, gods!
what are we to do, Ladies? the Resident has eternally bound me to him by
this distinction.
[Eliza during the above speech draws herself up with much cold and haughty reserve. Louisa looks down disconcerted and very grave, both curtseying very distantly to his compliments.]
Eliza
How free the fellow is! Is that gentleman Lieutenant Dormer, Sir! (to
Supple.—Dormer bows respectfully.)
Sup.
Yes, Ma'am.—Ah, ah, ah! egad, Dormer I had forgot you; the
sight of so much beauty had eclipsed every other idea.—Yes, Madam,
I have brought Lieutenant Dormer to attend your commands about this said——
[Dormer bows.]
Eliza.
Commands! you mistake the affair much, Sir; our commission consists
in begging a very particular favor of that gentleman:—but as it is
a delicate subject, Sir, cannot well be discussed before any one not concerned.
Sup.
Oh dear, Madam, I know the whole business; you need not mind me—the
Resident has acquainted me.—Indeed I may venture to assert, without
vanity, there are a few things by him kept secret from me; indeed does me
the honor to consult me upon every occasion.
Eliza
Perhaps so, Sir; but you being the Resident's confident, is not reason you
shou'd be our's.
Sup.
Damn it, how she cuts me.—[Aside.]—Nay,
as to that, Madam, ha, ha! I wish you to accept my services, out of my profound
respect to the Resident; and however meanly you, Madam, seem to rate
my consequence here, perhaps you may find it not amiss to cultivate it.
[With arrogance.]
Eliza
Sir, if the rectitude of my own conduct cannot support me——
Sup.
Umph! ha, ha, ha! As to that, Madam those are speculations I never trouble
my head about, not I.—Here, Dormer, you must understand that that sword
of your's——
Dor.
[Spiritedly.] I shall understand nothing, Sir, communicated by you against
the wish of these Ladies.
Sup.
Hey! why what the devil! you in heroics too! Egad, if that's the case, I
must e'en wish you all a good morning, "and go and pay my respects
to Mrs. Tartar."—Ladies, your most obedient—Lieutenant Dormer,
good bye to you.—[Bows affectedly.]—Damn
the fellow, that I had but courage enough to cut his throat! [Exit.]
Eliza
[To Dormer.] Let me intreat you, Sir, to excuse
this disagreeable reception, but it has entirely arisen from your extraordinary
Gentleman Usher.
Dor.
I am truly sorry, Ladies, to have been thus disagreeably introduc'd to you;
but it was the Resident's doing, and I cou'd only obey.
Louisa
Vastly unthinking of him, in every respect.
Dor.
However, Ladies, assure yourselves I await your commands with the utmost
submission. [Bows.]
Eliza
We have none, Sir, upon any such consideration; on the contrary, we depend
on your generosity "to grant us a very important service."
Dor.
Alas! Madam, a poor Lieutenant of Seapoys stands in no likelihood of being
so fortunate as to confer favors, or receive any.
Eliza
Not to keep you, Sir, any longer in suspense, and hoping you will excuse
the liberty I mean to take, as Mr. Supple was so officiously preparing to
acquaint you; it respects that very sword, I fancy, you have by your side.
Dor.
Madam, you throw me into still greater perplexities; this sword, Madam—
[Sighs.]
Eliza
Was the legacy of a beloved friend.
Dor.
Yes, Madam; but how, or wherefore, can that concern you?
Eliza
To honor that friend's memory with everlasting glory and remembrance, depends
solely on you, Sir, and that sword.
Dor.
You more and more increase my wonder, Madam.—Honor him I ever shall
with an enthusiasm, friendship alone can inspire.
Eliza
Then, Sir, you have a glorious opportunity to exert it. Your friend's noble
relation in England, Sir Thomas Clairville, will deem that sword cheaply
purchas'd in exchanging his legacy for yours.
Dor.
What, Madam, sell it! part with it—not for millions; unworthy shou'd
I prove myself of his dying tenderness! No, Madam, if it cannot more nobly
get me bread, it shall deprive me sooner of existence.
Eliza
You do not see the affair in its proper light, Sir; it is not selling, it
is exchanging it, and for the noblest purpose. "Sir Thomas covets it
to remain for ever in his family, a noble attestation to the exalted worth
of its too unfortunate owner, preserved amongst banners and trophies of
his dignified ancestors, as reflecting higher honor and more true glory
as the relic of a noble, generous, and grateful heart."
Dor.
"But it must not be by fixing the disgrace of a mercenary on mine."
No, madam—"I am but a poor Lieutenant, yet such will I remain."—If
I can't enrich myself without mercenary views, without tarnishing the honor
of a British soldier, yet think me not so selfish to prefer my own slight
satisfaction to my deceas'd friend's glory.—I honor Sir Thomas's motive—it
speaks him what an Englishman should be.—His gifts be to himself.—but—take
the sword—though parting with it—leaves me wretched.
Eliza
Excuse me, Sir; it is my cousin's commission, though her diffidence and
delicacy have forc'd me to the explanation of it.
Louisa
What my cousin has told you is the real fact, Sir.
Dor.
To you then, Madam, I resign that sword, which not the most potent
enemy shou'd have forc'd from me but with my life;—yet friendship is
stronger than power, and beauty irresistable as fate! Oh, Clairville! receive
this proof of my attachment.—"If thy blessed spirit is permitted
to observe it long—long may this remain a trophy to thy merits; and
as it never was drawn but in thy country's service,"—[taking
it from his side]—may it to ages hence convey thy noble
worth.—No paltry quarrels, "murderous duels," ever stain'd
thy blade—nor was it ever yet unsheath'd to countenance oppression,
wrong, or robbery.—I have kept thee as a jewel next my heart; sleeping
or waking thou hast still been with me! and humbly hope (without a boast)
I part with thee as unsullied as ever I receiv'd thee.—Go, and record
thy master's—[kisses it with enthusiasm]—sad,
untimely fate—cut off from every blessing that awaited him, by an obnoxious
climate's desolating heats.
[Kneeling, presents the sword to Louisa, who, taking it, rests the point on the ground, supporting it by the hilt with her left hand; the other hiding her tears with her handkerchief.—Eliza also weeping.—Dormer rising, hurries off.]
Eliza
Oh, Dormer! thou hast prov'd thyself the worthy—what, is he gone?
Louisa
[Looks up and puts her handkerchief to her eyes again, sobbing.]——Noble,
generous youth!
Eliza
Indeed, he is.—But come, Louisa, we need not cry all day,—[jogs
her]—though I'm afraid we shall find this sword a dangerous weapon
if I mistake not. "I fear" it has given your heart a mortal wound
already—hey, coz—what say you? how d'ye feel it?
Louisa
Dear Eliza, how can you give way to such levity? [Rather peevishly.]
Eliza
Nay, don't scold, especially sword in hand, good coz.—In good faith,
I'll e'en call him back to my protection—and here he comes, as I live.
Louisa
[starting.] Good heaven, he must have heard you, cousin.
[Re-enter Dormer.]
Dor.
Forgive me, Ladies—perhaps it is a weakness—but the sword-knot
was my Clairville's! That if you would bestow upon me—
Eliza
Come, don't you set me a crying again, you strange man you, don't—Here—we
don't know what to do with our wish now we have got it.—There's
no other way—you must keep the sword for us, 'till we can return to
England—but be sure you bring it us every day, and ten
times a day, that we may be sure it is safe.
Dor.
Ah dear, Madam! trust me not with it again, for fear temptation——
Louisa
There is no fear of that, Sir; a heart once capable of such a generous action,
will never be tempted to repent it.
Dor.
I am bound eternally, Madam, by your generous confidence.
Eliza
Not that we wish to conceal your noble generosity; but there are some people,
who can never forgive a man for putting their own conduct in a despicable
light by the superiority of his own.—[Giving the sword.]—Such
you have at present to deal with in the Resident, and this his precious
confidant.
Dor.
I am happy, Ladies, your discernment is equal to their characters.—You
will excuse my saying more.
Eliza
Readily.
[Re-enter Mr. Supple.]
Sup.
Well, Ladies! I hope you and Dormer have settled this affair—for upon
my soul I cannot help interrupting you.—I have been discoursing with
Mrs. Tartar about you both, till I have work'd up my feelings to such a
pitch of enthusiasm, I cou'd no longer, Ladies, resist coming to throw my
adorations at your feet.
[Makes extravagant gestures, and bows of adoration to them both, but particularly Louisa.]
Louisa
[very formally.] You do us more honor, Sir, than either we deserve—
Eliza
[curtseying and looking archly.] Or desire. [Ladies go up.]
Sup.
Oh, my dearest Madam, pardon me there.—[Bows conceitedly.]—They
seem all so dev'lish queer, I suppose they han't agreed—besides, I
see the sword's by his side still.—I am ready to attend you,
Dormer, if the Ladies and you——
Dor.
Sir, I am at your service. Ladies, I humbly take my leave. [Bowing respectfully.]
Eliza
Mr. Dormer, Sir, your servant; we shall hope to see you again before to-morrow.
Dor.
Madam, you do me too much honor. [Bows.]
Sup.
Oh! I suppose they are at a parley.——Damn it, I think she might
have ask'd me too.—Ladies, I kiss your hands till my happy stars return
me an opportunity of again adoring your beauties.
Louisa
Mr. Dormer, we hope to see you soon, Sir.
[Eliza and Louisa both curtsey very gravely, with peaking, and exeunt as Dormer is going off opposite.]
Sup.
[aside as he goes off.] Dormer gone too! Damn it, they make nobody of
me here—they're the oddest women I ever saw in my life, egad. I never
said half so many fine things to any of their sex before, without turning
their heads with vanity and affectation. [Exit after Dormer.]
END OF ACT II
