George Colman

“ O wealthy despoilers of humble innocence! splendid murderers of virtue; who make your vice your boast, and fancy female ruin a feather in your caps of vanity—single out a victim you have abandoned, and, in your hours of death, contemplate her!—view her, care-worn, friendless, pennyless;—hear her tale of sorrows, fraught with her remorse,—her want,—a hard world's scoffs, her parents' anguish;—then, if ye dare, look inward upon your own bosoms; and if they be not conscience proof what must be your compunctions!—Who is his father, child?
Mary. Sir Simon Rochdale, sir, of the Manor-house, hard by. ”

“ The very air of the camp, Gregory, will brace your courage to the true pitch.
Gregory. That may be, madam; and yet, for a bracing air, people are apt to die in it, sooner than in any other place.
Adeline. Pshaw! pr'ythee, man, put but a confident look on the matter, and we shall do, I warrant. A bluff and blustering outside often conceals a chicken heart. Mine aches, I am sure! but I will hide my grief under the veil of airy carelessness.—Down, sorrow! I'll be all bustle, like the occasion. Come, Gregory! Mark your mistress, man, and learn: see how she'll play the pert young soldier. ”

“ La Gloire. Degrade my profession!—my—look ye, Madelon; I love thee with all my heart—with an honest soldier's heart—else I could tell your father, that a citizen could never get on in the world, without a soldier to do his journey-work:—and your soldier, look ye—'sblood! it makes me fret like a hot day's march!—your soldier, in all nations, when he is rusted down to your quiet citizen, and so sets up at home for himself, is in double respect, for having served such an honourable apprenticeship. ”

“ Trudge. No, no, no, don't; don't. We may be called to account for disturbing the company: you may get a curtain-lecture, perhaps, sir.
Inkle. Peace, booby, and stand on your guard.
Trudge. Oh! what will become of us! Some grim, seven foot fellow ready to scalp us.
Inkle. By heaven! a woman.
[As the curtain draws, Yarico and Wowski discovered asleep.
[18]
Trudge. A woman! [Aside.] — [Loud.] But let him come on; I'm ready—dam'me, I don't fear facing the devil himself—Faith it is a woman—fast asleep too.
Inkle. And beautiful as an angel!
Trudge. And egad! ”

“ The Knight began,
In doleful accents, thus to say:
“Here a fat Friar lies, kill’d with a mauling,
For coming, in the dark, a-caterwauling;
Whom I (O cursed spite!) did lay so!”
Thus, solemnly, Sir Thomas spake, and sigh’d;—
To whom the Duke of Limbs replied—
“Odrabbit it! Sir Thomas! you don’t say so!”
Then, taking the huge Friar per the hocks,
He whirl’d the ton of blubber three times round,
And swung it on his shoulders, from the ground,
With strength that yields, in any age, to no man’s,—
Tho’ Milo’s ghost should rise, bearing the Ox
He carried at the games of the old Romans. ”

“ Here, Peter Quince.
Quin. Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother:
Tom Snowt, the tinker.
Snowt. Here, Peter Quince.
Quin. You, Pyramus's father; myself, Thisby's father; Snug the joiner, you the Lion's part; I hope there is a play fitted.
Snug. Have you the Lion's part written? Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.
Quin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
Bot. Let me play the Lion too, I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me. I will roar, that I will make the Duke say, let him roar again, let him roar again! ”

“ Job. Never mind the story now, Mary;—'tis a true story that you're my child, and that's enough for the present. I hear you have met with a rascal. I hav'n't been told who, yet. Some folks don't always forgive; braziers do. Kiss me again, and we'll talk on't by and by. But, why would you run away, Mary?
Mary. I could'nt stay and be deceitful; and it has often cut me to the heart, to see you show me that affection, which I knew I didn't deserve.
Job. Ah! you jade! I ought to be angry; but I can't. Look here—don't you remember this waistcoat? you worked it for me, you know.
Mary. I know I did. ”

“ Who but we keep up the vigour of an engagement, and the courage of the soldiers? Fear, brother, is, for all the world, like your bite of a tarantula; there's no conquering its effects without music. We are of as much consequence to an army, as wind to a windmill: the wings can't be put in motion without us.
Fifer. Marry, that's true: and if two armies ever meet without coming to blows, nothing but our absence can be the occasion of it. The only way to restore harmony is, to take away our music. ”

“ Countrymen, fellow soldiers, and Frenchmen!—be of good cheer, for famine is come upon you, and you are all in danger of starving. Is there any thing dearer to a Frenchman than his honour? Isn't honour the greater, the greater the danger? and has any body ever had the honour of being in greater danger than you?—Rejoice, then, for your peril is extreme! Be merry, for you have a glorious dismal prospect before you; and as pleasing a state of desperation as the noble heart of a soldier could wish! ”

“ Horror on horror!—he saw John
Where least of all he ever thought to find him:
Stuck up, on end, in placid grace,
Like a stuff’d Kangaroo,—tho’ vastly fatter,—
With the full moon upon his chubby face,
Like a brass pot-lid shining on a platter.
“’Sdeath!” quoth the Knight, of half his powers bereft,
“Didst thou not tell me where this Friar was left?
Men rise again, to push us from our stools!”14
To which the Duke replied, with steady phiz,—
“Them as took pains to push that Friar from his,
At such a time o’night, was cursed fools.” ”

“ Job. You are an honest man; so am I; so settle that account as you like.
Pereg. Come forth, then, injured simplicity;—of your own cause you shall be now the arbitress.
Mary. Do not make me speak, sir, I am so humbled—so abash'd——
Job. Nonsense! we are sticking up for right.
Pereg. Will you then speak, Mr. Rochdale?
Frank. My father is bereft of a fortune, sir; but I must hesitate till his fiat is obtained, as much as if he possess'd it.
Sir Simon. Nay, nay; follow your own inclinations now
Frank. May I, sir? Oh, then, let the libertine now make reparation, and claim a wife. ”

“ More simpleton I!—to stand, like a thin-clad booby, in a hard shower, under an unroofed penthouse. Truly, for a fool of my experience, I have but little wisdom: and yet a camp suits well with my humour; take away the fighting—the sleeping in a field—the bad fare—the long marches, and the short pay—and a soldier's is a rare merry life.—Here come two more musterers—troth we have need of them—for, considering the goodness of the cause, they drop in as sparingly as mites into a poor's box. ”

“ Sir Chr. Ods my life, as comely a wench as ever I saw!
Enter Yarico, who looks for some time in Inkle's face, bursts into tears, and falls on his neck.
Inkle. In tears! nay, Yarico! why this?
Yar. Oh do not—do not leave me!
Inkle. Why, simple girl! I'm labouring for your good. My interest, here, is nothing: I can do nothing from myself, you are ignorant of our country's customs. I must give way to men more powerful, who will not have me with you. But see, my Yarico, ever anxious for your welfare, I've found a kind, good person who will protect you. ”

“ Och! what a piece of work a little trimming and drapery makes in a good fellow's fancy! A foot is a foot, all the world over;—but take the foot of the sweetest little creature that ever tripped over green sward, and if it doesn't play at bo-peep under a petticoat—'faith, I don't know the reason of it; but it gives a clean contrary turn to a man's imagination. But what is it you would be after now, Lady Julia?
Julia. Something I will do; and it must be speedy: at all hazards, we will to the English camp, O'Carrol:—opportunity must shape the rest. ”

“ Marg. True, Duke of Somerset; for some there are
Who, idly stretch'd upon the bank of life,
Sleep till the stream runs dry.—Is't not vexatious,
That frolic nature, as it were, in mockery,
Should in the rough, and lusty mould of manhood,
Encrust a feeble mind!—Well, upon me
Must rest the load of war.—Assist me, then,
Ye powers of just revenge! fix deep the memory
Of injured majesty! heat my glowing fancy
With all the glittering pride of high dominion;
That, when we meet the traitors who usurp it,
My breast shall swell with manly indignation,
And spur me on to enterprise. ”

“ Shuff. Speak—but don't be in a passion. We are always cool at the clubs: the constant habit of ruining one another, teaches us temper. Explain.
Sir Simon. Well, I will. You know, my dear Tom, how much I admire your proficiency in the New school of breeding;—you are, what I call, one of the highest finished fellows of the present day.
Shuff. Psha! Baronet; you flatter.
Sir Simon. No, I don't; only in extolling the merits of the newest fashion'd manners and morals, I am sometimes puzzled, by the plain gentlemen, who listen to me, here in the country, most consumedly. ”

“ Sir Chr. Look ye, young man; I love to be plain: I shall treat her a good deal better than you would, I fancy; for though I witness this custom every day, I can't help thinking the only excuse for buying our fellow creatures, is to rescue them from the hands of those who are unfeeling enough to bring them to market.
Inkle. Fair words, old gentleman; an Englishman won't put up an affront.
Sir Chr. An Englishman! more shame for you! [56] Let Englishmen blush at such practices. Men, who so fully feel the blessings of liberty, are doubly cruel in depriving the helpless of their freedom. ”

“ La Gloire. O, gluttony! to deprive the innocent of their hard, dry penances, and apply them, soft, to their own offending stomachs! I never could abide these pampered friars. They are the pot-bellied children of the Pope, nursed at the bosom of old mother church; and plaguy chubby boys they are. One convent of them, in a town, breeds a famine sooner than an English blockade. But, what says thy father within, here, Madelon, to our marriage?
Madelon. Truly, he has no objection, but in respect to your being a soldier. ”

“ Mary. Is the gentleman gone, sir?
Pereg. Let him go, child; and be thankful that you have escaped from a villain.
Mary. A villain, sir!
Pereg. The basest; for nothing can be baser than manly strength, in the specious form of protection, injuring an unhappy woman. When we should be props to the lily in the storm, 'tis damnable to spring up like vigorous weeds, and twine about the drooping flower, till we destroy it.
Mary. Then, where are friends to be found, sir? He seemed honest; so do you; but, perhaps, you may be as bad. ”

“ As an opera, Inkle and Yarico has the singular merit not to be protected, though aided, by the power of music: the characters are so forcibly drawn, that even those performers who sing, and study that art alone, can render every part effectual: and singers and actors of future times, like those of the past, and of the present, will find every character exactly suited to their talents. ”

“ I cannot help following my poor Lady Adeline—affection has led many a bolder man by the nose than I. I wonder, though, how your bold fellows find themselves just before they're going to fight. I wonder if they have any uncomfortable sort of sticking in the throat, and a queer kind of a cold tickling feel in some part of the flesh. Ah! Gregory, Gregory Gubbins! your peaceable qualities will never do for a camp. ”

“ To those who dabble in their neighbours’ matters;
Therefore, he wisely held it good
To hide his practice from the neighbourhood,
And not appear, there, as a resident;
But merely one who, casually, went
To see the lodgers in the large brick house;—
To lounge, and chat, not minding time a souse;—
Like one to whom all business was quite foreign;—
And, thus, he visited his female sick;
Who lay as thick,
Within his tenement of brick,
As rabbits in a warren. ”

“ Julia. Thou hast been a trusty follower, O'Carrol; nay, more a friend than follower; thou art entwined in all the interests of our house, and art as attached to me as to my father.
O'Carrol. Ay, troth, Lady Julia, and a good deal more; more shame to me for it; because I am indebted for all to the Governor. I don't know how it may be with wiser nations, but if regard is to go to a whole family, there's a something about the female part of it that an Irishman can't help giving the preference to, for the soul of him. ”

“ Sir Simon. Bless me! I've made it monstrous inconvenient!
Shuff. Not a bit—I give you my honour, I did'nt find it inconvenient at all. How is Frank Rochdale?
Sir Simon. Why, my son is'nt up yet; and before he's stirring, do let me talk to you, my dear Tom Shuffleton! I have something near my heart, that—
Shuff. Don't talk about your heart, Baronet;—feeling's quite out of fashion.
Sir Simon. Well, then, I'm interested in——
Shuff. Aye, stick to that. We make a joke of the heart, now-a-days; but when a man mentions his interest, we know he's in earnest.
Sir Simon. Zounds! I am in earnest. ”

“ Fight away, for the cause of the jolly Red Rose;
Never flinch while you live; should you meet with your death,
There's no fear that you'll run—you'll be quite out of breath.
Then be true to your colours, the Lancasters chose,
And the laurel entwine with the jolly Red Rose.
Chorus. Then be true, &c.
He who follows for honour the drum and the fife,
May perhaps have the luck to get honour for life;
And he who, for money, makes fighting his trade,
Let him now face the foe, he'll be handsomely paid. ”

“ Wows. Your countrymen dress so?
Trudge. Better, better a great deal. Why, a young flashy Englishman will sometimes carry a whole fortune on his back. But did you mind the women? [30] All here—and there; [Pointing before and behind.] they have it all from us in England.—And then the fine things they carry on their heads, Wowski.
Wows. Iss. One lady carry good fish——so fine, she call every body to look at her.
Trudge. Pshaw! an old woman bawling flounders. But the fine girls we meet, here, on the quay—so round and so plump!
Wows. You not love me now?
Trudge. Not love you! ”

“ Madelon. Nay, now, La Gloire, my father meant not——
La Gloire. Marry, I would tell your father this to his teeth; which, were it not for my captain and me—two soldiers, mark you me—might not, haply, have been so soon set a going.
Madelon. Ungenerous! I could not have spoken such cutting words to you, La Gloire.—My poor father only meant, that the wars might separate us. But I had a remedy for that, too, for all your unkindness. ”

“ Simon. Pshaw! you be a foolish old fellow.
Job. Why, that's true. Every now and then a jack-in-office, like you, provokes a man to forget his years. The cudgel is a stout one, and som'at like your master's justice;—'tis a good weapon in weak hands; and that's the way many a rogue escapes a dressing.—What! you are laughing at it?
Simon. Ees.
Job. Ees! you Cornish baboon, in a laced livery!—Here's something to make you grin more—here's half a crown. ”

“ I know not what to think—I have given her distant hints of parting; but still, so strong her confidence in my affection, she prattles on without [50] regarding me. Poor Yarico! I must not—cannot quit her. When I would speak, her look, her mere simplicity disarms me; I dare not wound such innocence. Simplicity is like a smiling babe, which, to the ruffian that would murder it, stretching its little naked, helpless arms, pleads, speechless, its own cause. And yet, Narcissa's family—
Enter Trudge.
Trudge. There he is; like a beau bespeaking a coat—doubting which colour to choose—Sir—
Inkle. ”

“ Adeline. 'Tis brief.—I have been sorely wrung, sir, by the keen pressure of mishap.—I once had friends: they have left me. One whom I thought a special one—a noble gentleman—who pledged himself, by all the ties that are most binding to a man, to guard my uninstructed youth—even he, to whom my soul looked up; whom, I might say, I loved as with a woman's tenderness,—even he has, now, deserted me. ”