ACT III.
SCENE I.—The Theatre, before the curtain.
Enter PUFF, SNEER, and DANGLE.
PUFF.
Well, we are ready; now then for the justices. [Curtain rises.]
JUSTICES, CONSTABLES, &c., discovered.
SNEER.
This, I suppose, is a sort of senate scene.
PUFF.
To be sure; there has not been one yet.
DANGLE.
It is the under-plot, isn’t it?
PUFF.
Yes.—What, gentlemen, do you mean to go at once to the discovery scene?
JUSTICE.
If you please, sir.
PUFF.
Oh, very well!—Hark’ee, I don’t choose to say anything more;
but, i’faith they have mangled my play in a most shocking manner.
DANGLE.
It’s a great pity!
PUFF.
Now, then, Mr. justice, if you please.
JUSTICE.
Are all the volunteers without?
CONSTABLE.
They are. Some ten in fetters, and some twenty drunk.
JUSTICE.
Attends the youth, whose most opprobrious fame And clear convicted crimes have
stamp’d him soldier?
CONSTABLE.
He waits your pleasure; eager to repay The best reprieve that sends him to the
fields Of glory, there to raise his branded hand In honour’s cause.
JUSTICE.
’Tis well—’tis justice arms him! Oh! may he now defend his
country’s laws With half the spirit he has broke them all! If ’tis
your worship’s pleasure, bid him enter.
CONSTABLE.
I fly, the herald of your will. [Exit.]
PUFF.
Quick, sir.
SNEER.
But, Mr. Puff, I think not only the justice, but the clown seems to talk in as
high a style as the first hero among them.
PUFF.
Heaven forbid they should not in a free country!—Sir, I am not for making
slavish distinctions, and giving all the fine language to the upper sort of
people.
DANGLE.
That’s very noble in you, indeed. Enter JUSTICE’S LADY.
PUFF.
Now, pray mark this scene. Lady Forgive this interruption, good my love;
But as I just now pass’d a prisoner youth, Whom rude hands hither lead,
strange bodings seized My fluttering heart, and to myself I said, An’ if
our Tom had lived, he’d surely been This stripling’s height!
JUSTICE.
Ha! sure some powerful sympathy directs Us both—
Enter CONSTABLE with SON. What is thy name?
SON.
My name is Tom Jenkins—alias have I none—Though
orphan’d, and without a friend!
JUSTICE.
Thy parents?
SON.
My father dwelt in Rochester—and was, As I have heard—a
fishmonger—no more.
PUFF.
What, sir, do you leave out the account of your birth, parentage, and
education?
SON.
They have settled it so, sir, here.
PUFF.
Oh! oh! Lady.
How loudly nature whispers to my heart Had he no other name?
SON.
I’ve seen a bill Of his sign’d Tomkins, creditor.
JUSTICE.
This does indeed confirm each circumstance The gipsy told!—Prepare!
SON.
I do.
JUSTICE.
No orphan, nor without a friend art thou—I am thy father; here’s
thy mother; there Thy uncle—this thy first cousin, and those are all your
near relations!
JUSTICE’S LADY.
O ecstasy of bliss!
SON.
O most unlook’d for happiness!
JUSTICE.
O wonderful event! [They faint alternately in each other’s arms.]
PUFF.
There, you see, relationship, like murder, will out.
JUSTICE.
Now let’s revive—else were this joy too much! But come—and
we’ll unfold the rest within; And thou, my boy, must needs want rest and
food. Hence may each orphan hope, as chance directs, To find a
father—where he least expects! [Exeunt.]
PUFF.
What do you think of that?
DANGLE.
One of the finest discovery-scenes I ever saw!—Why, this under-plot would
have made a tragedy itself.
SNEER.
Ay! or a comedy either.
PUFF.
And keeps quite clear you see of the other. Enter SCENEMEN, taking
away the seats.
PUFF.
The scene remains, does it?
SCENEMAN.
Yes, sir.
PUFF.
You are to leave one chair, you know.—But it is always awkward in a
tragedy, to have your fellows coming in in your play-house liveries to remove
things.—I wish that could be managed better.—So now for my
mysterious yeoman. Enter BEEFEATER.
BEEFEATER.
Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee.
SNEER.
Haven’t I heard that line before?
PUFF.
No, I fancy not.—Where, pray?
DANGLE.
Yes, I think there is something like it in Othello.
PUFF.
Gad! now you put me in mind on’t, I believe there is—but
that’s of no consequence; all that can be said is, that two people
happened to hit upon the same thought—and Shakspeare made use of it
first, that’s all.
SNEER.
Very true.
PUFF.
Now, sir, your soliloquy—but speak more to the pit, if you
please—the soliloquy always to the pit, that’s a rule.
BEEFEATER.
Though hopeless love finds comfort in despair, It never can endure a
rival’s bliss! But soft—I am observed. [Exit.]
DANGLE.
That’s a very short soliloquy.
PUFF.
Yes—but it would have been a great deal longer if he had not been
observed.
SNEER.
A most sentimental Beefeater that, Mr. Puff!
PUFF.
Hark’ee—I would not have you be too sure that he is a Beefeater.
SNEER.
What, a hero in disguise?
PUFF.
No matter—I only give you a hint. But now for my principal character.
Here he comes—Lord Burleigh in person! Pray, gentlemen, step this
way—softly—I only hope the Lord High Treasurer is perfect—if
he is but perfect! Enter LORD BURLEIGH, goes slowly to a chair, and
sits.
SNEER.
Mr. Puff!
PUFF.
Hush!—Vastly well, sir! vastly well! a most interesting gravity.
DANGLE.
What, isn’t he to speak at all?
PUFF.
Egad, I thought you’d ask me that!—Yes, it is a very likely
thing—that a minister in his situation, with the whole affairs of the
nation on his head, should have time to talk!—But hush! or you’ll
put him out.
SNEER.
Put him out; how the plague can that be, if he’s not going to say
anything?
PUFF.
There’s the reason! why, his part is to think; and how the plague do you
imagine he can think if you keep talking?
DANGLE.
That’s very true, upon my word! LORD BURLEIGH comes forward, shakes
his head, and exit.
SNEER.
He is very perfect indeed! Now, pray what did he mean by that?
PUFF.
You don’t take it?
SNEER.
No, I don’t, upon my soul.
PUFF.
Why, by that shake of the head, he gave you to understand that even though they
had more justice in their cause, and wisdom in their measures—yet, if
there was not a greater spirit shown on the part of the people, the country
would at last fall a sacrifice to the hostile ambition of the Spanish monarchy.
SNEER.
The devil! did he mean all that by shaking his head?
PUFF.
Every word of it—if he shook his head as I taught him.
DANGLE.
Ah! there certainly is a vast deal to be done on the stage by dumb show and
expressions of face; and a judicious author knows how much he may trust to it.
SNEER.
Oh, here are some of our old acquaintance. Enter SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON
and SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON.
My niece and your niece too! By Heaven! there’s witchcraft
in’t.—He could not else Have gain’d their hearts.—But
see where they approach Some horrid purpose lowering on their brows!
SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
Let us withdraw and mark them. [They withdraw.]
SNEER.
What is all this?
PUFF.
Ah! here has been more pruning!—but the fact is, these two young ladies
are also in love with Don Whiskerandos.—Now, gentlemen, this scene goes
entirely for what we call situation and stage effect, by which the greatest
applause may be obtained, without the assistance of language, sentiment, or
character: pray mark! Enter the two NIECES.
FIRST NIECE.
Ellena here! She is his scorn as much as I—that is Some comfort still !
PUFF.
O dear, madam, you are not to say that to her face!—Aside, ma’am,
aside.—The whole scene is to be aside. 1st Niece.
She is his scorn as much as I—that is Some comfort still. [Aside.]
SECOND NIECE.
I know he prizes not Pollina’s love; But Tilburina lords it o’er
his heart. [Aside.]
FIRST NIECE.
But see the proud destroyer of my peace. Revenge is all the good I’ve
left. [Aside.]
SECOND NIECE.
He comes, the false disturber of my quiet. Now vengeance do thy worst.
[Aside.]
Enter DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
O hateful liberty—if thus in vain I seek my Tilburina!
BOTH NIECES.
And ever shalt! SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON and SIR WALTER RALEIGH come
forward.
SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON and SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
Hold! we will avenge you.
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
Hold you—or see your nieces bleed! [The two NIECES draw
their two daggers to strike WHISKERANDOS: the two UNCLES at the
instant, with their two swords drawn, catch their two NIECES’
arms, and turn the points of their swords to WHISKERANDOS, who
immediately draws two daggers, and holds them to the two NIECES’
bosoms.]
PUFF.
There’s situation for you! there’s an heroic group!—You see
the ladies can’t stab Whiskerandos—he durst not strike them, for
fear of their uncles—the uncles durst not kill him, because of their
nieces.—I have them all at a dead lock!—for every one of them is
afraid to let go first.
SNEER.
Why, then they must stand there for ever!
PUFF.
So they would, if I hadn’t a very fine contrivance for’t.—Now
mind—Enter BEEFEATER, with his halbert.
BEEFEATER.
In the queen’s name I charge you all to drop Your swords and daggers!
[They drop their swords and daggers.]
SNEER.
That is a contrivance indeed!
PUFF.
Ay—in the queen’s name.
SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON.
Come, niece!
SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
Come, niece! [Exeunt with the two NIECES.]
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
What’s he, who bids us thus renounce our guard?
BEEFEATER.
Thou must do more—renounce thy love!
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
Thou liest—base Beefeater!
BEEFEATER.
Ha! hell! the lie! By Heaven thou’st roused the lion in my heart! Off,
yeoman’s habit!—base disguise! off! off! [Discovers himself by
throwing off his upper dress, and appearing in a very fine waistcoat.] Am I
a Beefeater now? Or beams my crest as terrible as when In Biscay’s Bay I
took thy captive sloop?
PUFF.
There, egad! he comes out to be the very captain of the privateer who had taken
Whiskerandos prisoner—and was himself an old lover of Tilburina’s.
DANGLE.
Admirably managed, indeed!
PUFF.
Now, stand out of their way. Whisk. I thank thee, Fortune, that hast
thus bestowed A weapon to chastise this insolent. [Takes up one of the
swords.]
BEEFEATER.
I take thy challenge, Spaniard, and I thank thee, Fortune, too! [Takes up
the other sword.]
DANGLE.
That’s excellently contrived!—It seems as if the two uncles had
left their swords on purpose for them.
PUFF.
No, egad, they could not help leaving them. Whisk.
Vengeance and Tilburina!
BEEFEATER.
Exactly so—[They fight—and after the usual number of wounds
given, WHISKERANDOS falls.]
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
O cursed parry!—that last thrust in tierce Was fatal.—Captain, thou
hast fenced well! And Whiskerandos quits this bustling scene For all
eter—
BEEFEATER.
—nity—he would have added, but stern death Cut short his being, and
the noun at once!
PUFF.
Oh, my dear sir, you are too slow: now mind me.—Sir, shall I trouble you
to die again? Whisk.
And Whiskerandos quits this bustling scene For all eter—
BEEFEATER.
—nity—he would have added,—
PUFF.
No, sir—that’s not it—once more, if you please.
DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
I wish, sir, you would practise this without me—I can’t stay dying
here all night.
PUFF.
Very well; we’ll go over it by-and-by.—[Exit WHISKERANDOS.]
I must humour these gentlemen! Beef.
Farewell, brave Spaniard! and when next—
PUFF.
Dear sir, you needn’t speak that speech, as the body has walked off.
BEEFEATER.
That’s true, sir—then I’ll join the fleet.
PUFF.
If you please.—[Exit BEEFEATER.] Now, who comes on? Enter
GOVERNOR, with his hair properly disordered.
GOVERNOR.
A hemisphere of evil planets reign! And every planet sheds contagious frenzy!
My Spanish prisoner is slain! my daughter, Meeting the dead corse borne along,
has gone Distract! [A loud flourish of trumpets.] But hark! I am
summoned to the fort: Perhaps the fleets have met! amazing crisis! O Tilburina!
from thy aged father’s beard Thou’st pluck’d the few brown
hairs which time had left! [Exit.]
SNEER.
Poor gentleman!
PUFF.
Yes—and no one to blame but his daughter!
DANGLE.
And the planets—
PUFF.
True.—Now enter Tilburina!
SNEER.
Egad, the business comes on quick here.
PUFF.
Yes, sir—now she comes in stark mad in white satin.
SNEER.
Why in white satin?
PUFF.
O Lord, sir—when a heroine goes mad, she always goes into white
satin.—Don’t she, Dangle?
DANGLE.
Always—it’s a rule.
PUFF.
Yes—here it is—[Looking at the book.] Enter Tilburina stark
mad in white satin, and her confidant stark mad in white linen. Enter
TILBURINA and CONFIDANT, mad, according to custom.
SNEER.
But, what the deuce! is the confidant to be mad too?
PUFF.
To be sure she is: the confidant is always to do whatever her mistress does;
weep when she weeps, smile when she smiles, go mad when she goes
mad.—Now, Madam Confidant—but keep your madness in the background,
if you please. Tilb. The wind whistles—the moon rises—see,
They have kill’d my squirrel in his cage: Is this a
grasshopper?—Ha! no; it is my Whiskerandos—you shall not keep
him—I know you have him in your pocket—An oyster may be
cross’d in love!—who says A whale’s a bird?—Ha! did you
call, my love?—He’s here! he’s there!—He’s
everywhere! Ah me! he’s nowhere! [Exit.]
PUFF.
There, do you ever desire to see anybody madder than that?
SNEER.
Never, while I live!
PUFF.
You observed how she mangled the metre?
DANGLE.
Yes,—egad, it was the first thing made me suspect she was out of her
senses!
SNEER.
And pray what becomes of her?
PUFF.
She is gone to throw herself into the sea, to be sure—and that brings us
at once to the scene of action, and so to my catastrophe—my sea-fight, I
mean.
SNEER.
What, you bring that in at last?
PUFF.
Yes, yes—you know my play is called The Spanish Armada; otherwise,
egad, I have no occasion for the battle at all.—Now then for my
magnificence!—my battle!—my noise!—and my
procession!—You are all ready?
UNDER PROMPTER.
[Within.] Yes, sir.
PUFF.
Is the Thames dressed? Enter THAMES with two ATTENDANTS.
Thames.
Here I am, sir.
PUFF.
Very well, indeed!—See, gentlemen, there’s a river for
you!—This is blending a little of the masque with my tragedy—a new
fancy, you know—and very useful in my case; for as there must be a
procession, I suppose Thames, and all his tributary rivers, to compliment
Britannia with a fête in honour of the victory.
SNEER.
But pray, who are these gentlemen in green with him?
PUFF.
Those?—those are his banks.
SNEER.
His banks?
PUFF.
Yes, one crowned with alders, and the other with a villa!—you take the
allusions?—But hey! what the plague!—you have got both your banks
on one side.—Here, sir, come round.—Ever while you live, Thames, go
between your banks.—[Bell rings.] There; so! now
for’t!—Stand aside, my dear friends!—Away, Thames!
[Exit THAMES between his banks.] [Flourish of drums, trumpets,
cannon, &c., &c. Scene changes to the sea—the fleets
engage—the music plays—Britons strike home.—Spanish fleet
destroyed by fire-ships, &c.—English fleet advances—music
plays, Rule Britannia.—The procession of all the English rivers, and
their tributaries, with their emblems, &c., begins with Handel’s
water music, ends with a chorus to the march in Judas’
Maccabaeus.—During this scene, PUFF directs and applauds
everything—then
PUFF.
Well, pretty well—but not quite perfect. So, ladies and gentlemen, if you
please, we’ll rehearse this piece again tomorrow. [Curtain
drops.]