Oliver Goldsmith

“ Thornhill, "this to my face?" "Yes," replied the butler; "or to any man's face. To tell you a truth, Master Thornhill, I never either loved you or liked you, and I don't care if I tell you now a piece of my mind." "Now then," cried Jenkinson, "tell his honour whether you know anything of me." "I can't say," replied the butler, "that I know much good of you. The night that gentleman's daughter was deluded to our house, you were one of them." "So then," cried Sir William, "I find you have brought a very fine witness to prove your innocence; thou stain to humanity! ”

“ Pray, your honour," continued he to Sir William, "can the squire have this lady's fortune if he be married to another?" "How can you make such a simple demand?" replied the baronet: "undoubtedly he cannot." "I am sorry for that," cried Jenkinson; "for as this gentleman and I have been old fellow-sporters, I have a friendship for him. But I must declare, well as I love him, that his contract is not worth a tobacco-stopper, for he is married already." "You lie, like a rascal!" returned the squire, who seemed roused by this insult; "I never was legally married to any woman." ”

“ Tenderness is a virtue, Mr. Twitch.
Bailiff. Ay, sir, it's a perfect treasure. I love to see a gentleman with a tender heart. I don't know, but I think I have a tender heart myself. If all that I have lost by my heart was put together, it would make a—but no matter for that.
Honeyw. Don't account it lost, Mr. Twitch. The ingratitude of the world can never deprive us of the conscious happiness of having acted with humanity ourselves.
Bailiff. Humanity, sir, is a jewel. It's better than gold. I love humanity. People may say that we, in our way, have no humanity ”

“ I ask pardon, madam, Yet, from our long friendship, I presumed I might have some right to offer, without offence, what you may refuse without offending.
Miss Rich. Sir! I beg you'd reflect; though, I fear, I shall scarce have any power to refuse a request of yours; yet, you may be precipitate: consider, sir.
Honeyw. I own my rashness; but, as I plead the cause of friendship, of one who loves—Don't be alarmed, madam—Who loves you with the most ardent passion; whose whole happiness is placed in you—
Miss Rich. I fear, sir, I shall never find whom you mean, by this description of him. ”

“ My dear Leontine, by my life, my honour—
Leont. Peace, peace, for shame; and do not continue to aggravate baseness by hypocrisy. I know you, sir, I know you.
Honeyw. Why, won't you hear me? By all that's just, I knew not—
Leont. Hear you, sir, to what purpose? I now see through all your low arts; your ever complying with every opinion; your never refusing any request; your friendship is as common as a prostitute's favours, and as fallacious; all these, sir, have long been contemptible to the world, and are now perfectly so to me. ”

“ Olivia. Well; I dread, lest an expedition begun in fear should end in repentance.—Every moment we stay increases our danger, and adds to my apprehensions.
Leont. There's no danger, trust me, my dear; there can be none. If Honeywood has acted with honour, and kept my father, as he promised, in employment, till we are out of danger, nothing can interrupt our journey.
Olivia. I have no doubt of Mr. Honeywood's sincerity, and even his desires to serve us. My fears are from your father's suspicions. A mind so disposed to be alarmed without a cause will be but too ready when there's a reason. ”

“ Sir Charles. Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon inn-keeper, ha! ha! ha!
Hard. Well, I'm in too good spirits to think of anything but joy. Yes, my dear friend, this union of our families will make our personal friendships hereditary; and though my daughter's fortune is but small——
Sir Charles. Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune to me? My son is possessed of more than a competence already, and can want nothing but a good and virtuous girl to share his happiness and increase it. If they like each other, as you say they do——
Hard. If, man! I tell you they do like each other. ”

“ Enter Croaker.
Croaker. Yes, I must forgive her; and yet not too easily, neither. It will be proper to keep up the decorums of resentment a little, if it be only to impress her with an idea of my authority.
Olivia. How I tremble to approach him!—Might I presume, sir—If I interrupt you—
Croaker. No, child; where I have an affection, it is not a little thing can interrupt me. Affection gets over little things.
Olivia. Sir, you're too kind. I'm sensible how ill I deserve this partiality. Yet Heaven knows there is nothing I would not do to gain it. ”

“ I thought thee lost, my Olivia, yet still I hold thee, and still thou shalt live to bless me." The warmest transports of the fondest lover were not greater than mine, when I saw him introduce my child, and held my daughter in my arms, whose silence only spoke her raptures. "And art thou returned to me, my darling," cried I, "to be my comfort in age?" "That she is," cried Jenkinson; "and make much of her, for she is your own honourable child, and as honest a woman as any in the whole room, let the other be who she will. ”

“ Croaker, you and I were friends; we are friends no longer. Never talk to me. It's over; I say, it's over.
Croaker. As I hope for your favour, I did not mean to offend. It escaped me. Don't be discomposed.
Lofty. Zounds, sir, but I am discomposed, and will be discomposed. To be treated thus! Who am I? Was it for this I have been dreaded both by ins and outs? Have I been libelled in the Gazetteer, and praised in the St. James's? Have I been cheered at Wildman's, and a speaker at Merchant Tailors' Hall? Have I had my hand to addresses, and my head in the print-shops; and talk to me of suspects? ”

“ Two or three years' patience will at last crown us with happiness.
Hast. Such a tedious delay is worse than inconstancy. Let us fly, my charmer. Let us date our happiness from this very moment. Perish fortune. Love and content will increase what we possess, beyond a monarch's revenue. Let me prevail.
Miss Nev. No, Mr. Hastings; no. Prudence once more comes to my relief, and I will obey its dictates. In the moment of passion, fortune may be despised; but it ever produces a lasting repentance. I am resolved to apply to Mr. Hardcastle's compassion and justice for redress. ”

“ Joy, my dear George; I give you joy sincerely. And could I prevail upon my little tyrant here, to be less arbitrary, I should be the happiest man alive, if you would return me the favour.
Hast. (To Miss Hardcastle.) Come, madam, you are now driven to the very last scene of all your contrivances. I know you like him, I'm sure he loves you, and you must and shall have him.
Hard. (Joining their hands.) And I say so too. And, Mr. Marlow, if she makes as good a wife as she has a daughter, I don't believe you'll ever repent your bargain. So now to supper. ”

“ To be possessed of all that's good, and after such an interval of pain! my warmest wishes could never rise so high!" "Yes, my George," returned his lovely bride, "now let the wretch take my fortune: since you are happy without it, so am I. Oh, what an exchange have I made from the basest of men to the dearest, best! Let him enjoy our fortune; I now can be happy even in indigence." "And I promise you," cried the squire, with a malicious grin, "that I shall be very happy with what you despise." "Hold, hold, sir!" cried Jenkinson; "there are two words to that bargain. ”

“ Then let us take comfort now, for we shall soon be at our journey's end; we shall soon lay down the heavy burden laid by Heaven upon us; and though death, the only friend of the wretched, for a little while mocks the weary traveller with the view, and, like the horizon, flies before him, yet the time will certainly and shortly come when we shall cease from our toil; when the luxurious great ones of the world shall no more tread us to the earth; when we shall think with pleasure of our sufferings below; when we shall be surrounded with all our friends, or such as deserved our friendship ”

“ Don't imagine from my silence, madam, that I want a due sense of the honour and happiness intended me. My father, madam, tells me, your humble servant is not totally indifferent to you. He admires you; I adore you; and when we come together, upon my soul I believe we shall be the happiest couple in all St. James's.
Miss Rich. If I could flatter myself, you thought as you speak, sir—
Leont. Doubt my sincerity, madam? By your dear self I swear. Ask the brave if they desire glory, ask cowards if they covet safety—
Croaker. ”

“ Then, sir, he's a villain.
Croaker. How, sirrah; a villain, because he takes most care of your father? I'll not bear it. I tell you I'll not bear it. Honeywood is a friend to the family, and I'll have him treated as such.
Leont. I shall study to repay his friendship as it deserves.
Croaker. Ah, rogue, if you knew how earnestly he entered into my griefs, and pointed out the means to detect them, you would love him as I do. A cry without, Stop him! Fire and fury! they have seized the incendiary: they have the villain, the incendiary in view. Stop him, stop an incendiary, a murderer! stop him. ”

“ With what impudence he enters!
Enter Lofty.
Lofty. Let the chariot—let my chariot drive off, I'll visit to his grace's in a chair. Miss Richland here before me! Punctual, as usual, to the calls of humanity. I'm very sorry, madam, things of this kind should happen, especially to a man I have shown every where, and carried amongst us as a particular acquaintance.
Miss Rich. I find, sir, you have the art of making the misfortunes of others your own.
Lofty. My dear madam, what can a private man like me do? One man can't do everything; and then, I do so much in this way every day. ”

“ The disparity of education and fortune, the anger of a parent, and the contempt of my equals, begin to lose their weight, and nothing can restore me to myself, but this painful effort of resolution.
Miss Hard. Then go, sir. I'll urge nothing more to detain you. Though my family be as good as hers you came down to visit; and my education, I hope, not inferior, what are these advantages, without equal affluence? I must remain contented with the slight approbation of imputed merit; I must have only the mockery of your addresses, while all your serious aims are fixed on fortune. ”

“ Though the vicious forsake thee, there is yet one in the world that will never forsake thee; though thou hadst ten thousand crimes to answer for, he will forgive them all." "Oh, my own dear"—for minutes she could say no more—"my own dearest, good papa! Could angels be kinder? How do I deserve so much? The villain, I hate him and myself, to be a reproach to so much goodness. You can't forgive me—I know you cannot." "Yes, my child, from my heart I do forgive thee: only repent, and we both shall yet be happy. We shall see many pleasant days yet, my Olivia." "Ah! never, sir, never! ”

“ Sir Will. That friendship, madam, which is exerted in too wide a sphere, becomes totally useless. Our bounty, like a drop of water, disappears when diffused too widely. They, who pretend most to this universal benevolence, are either deceivers, or dupes—men who desire to cover their private ill-nature by a pretended regard for all; or men who, reasoning themselves into false feelings, are more earnest in pursuit of splendid, than of useful virtues.
Miss Rich. I am surprised, sir, to hear one who has probably been a gainer by the folly of others, so severe in his censure of it. ”

“ Jenkinson," replied I, "thank Heaven, my children are pretty tolerable in morals; and if they be good, it matters little for the rest."
"I fancy, sir," returned my fellow-prisoner, "that it must give you a great comfort to have all this little family about you."
"A comfort, Mr. Jenkinson!" replied I, "yes, it is indeed a comfort, and I would not be without them for all the world; for they can make a dungeon seem a palace. There is but one way in this life of wounding my happiness, and that is by injuring them." ”

“ To be thus restored to reputation, to friends, and fortune at once, was a rapture sufficient to stop the progress of decay, and restore former health and vivacity. But, perhaps, among all, there was not one who felt sincerer pleasure than I. Still holding the dear-loved child in my arms, I asked my heart if these transports were not delusion. "How could you," cried I, turning to Jenkinson, "how could you add to my miseries by the story of her death? But it matters not: my pleasure at finding her again is more than a recompense for the pain." ”

“ Do not our tyrant lords this day ordain
For superstitious rites and mirth profane?
And should we mourn? Should coward Virtue fly,
When vaunting Folly lifts her head on high?
No! rather let us triumph still the more,
And as our fortune sinks, our spirits soar. Air.
The triumphs that on vice attend
Shall ever in confusion end:
The good man suffers but to gain,
And every virtue springs from pain:
As aromatic plants bestow
No spicy fragrance while they grow;
But crush'd or trodden to the ground,
Diffuse their balmy sweets around.
FIRST PROPHET.
Recitative. ”