Such Things Are: A Play, in Five Acts

Enter Keeper.

Keep. An English prisoner, just now condemned to lose his head, one Henry Twineall, humbly begs permission to speak a few short sentences, his last dying words, to Mr. Haswell.

Has. Condemned to lose his head?—Lead me to him.

Keep. O, Sir, you need not hurry yourself—it is off by this time, I dare say.

Has. Off?

Keep. Yes, Sir—we don't stand long about these things in this country—I dare say it is off.

Has. [Impatiently.] Lead me to him instantly.

Guard. O! 'tis of consequence, is it, Sir?—if that is the case——

[Exit Keeper, followed by Haswell.

SCENE IV. An arch-way at the top of the stage, through which several Guards enter—Twineall in the middle, dressed for execution, with a large book in his hand.

Twi. One more verse, gentlemen, if you please.

Off. The time is expired.

Twi. One more, gentlemen, if you please.

Off. The time is expired.

Enter Haswell.

Twi. Oh! my dear Mr. Haswell!

[Bursting into tears.

Has. What, in tears at parting with me?—This is a compliment indeed!

Twi. I hope you take it as such—I am sure I mean it as such.—It kills me to leave you—it breaks my heart;—and I once flattered myself such a charitable, good, feeling, humane heart as you possess——

Has. Hold! Hold!—This, Mr. Twineall, is the vice which has driven you to the fatal precipice whereon you are—and in death will you not relinquish it?

Twi. What vice, Sir, do you mean?

Has. Flattery!—a vice that renders you not only despicable, but odious.

Twi. But how has flattery been the cause?

Has. Your English friend, before he left the island, told me what information you had asked from him, and that he had given you the direct opposite of every person's character, as a just punishment for your mean premeditation and designs.

Twi. I never imagined that amiable friend had sense enough to impose upon any body!

Has. Yet I presume, he could not suppose fate wou'd have carried their resentment to a length like this.

Twi. Oh! cou'd fate be arrested in its course!

Has. You wou'd reform your conduct?

Twi. I wou'd—I wou'd never say another civil thing to any body—never—never make myself agreeable again.

Has. Release him—here is the Sultan's signet.

[They release him.

Twi. Oh! my dear Mr. Haswell! never was compassion!—never benevolence!—never such a heart as yours!——

Has. Sieze him—he has broken his contract already.

Twi. No, Sir—No, Sir—I protest you are an illnatured, surly, crabbed fellow. I always thought so, upon my word, whatever I have said.

Has. And, I'll forgive that meaning, sooner than the other—utter any thing but flattery—Oh! never let the honest, plain, blunt English name, become a proverb for so base a vice.—

Lady Tre. [Without.] Where is the poor creature?

Enter Lady Tremor.

Lady. Oh! if his head is off, pray let me look at it?——

Twi. No, Madam, it is on—and I am very happy to be able to tell you so.——

Lady. Dear Heaven!—I expected to have seen it off!—but no matter—as it is on—I am come that it may be kept on—and have brought my Lord Flint, and Sir Luke, as witnesses.

Enter Lord, Aurelia, and Sir Luke.

Has. Well, Madam, and what have they to say?

Sir Luke. Who are we to tell our story to?—There does not seem to be any one fitting in judgement.—

Has. Tell it to me, Sir—I will report it.

Sir Luke. Why then, Mr. Haswell, as Ghosts sometimes walk—and as one's conscience is sometimes troublesome—I think Mr. Twineall has done nothing to merit death, and the charge which his Lordship sent in against him, we begin to think too severe—but, if there was any false statement——

Lord. It was the fault of my not charging my memory—any error I have been guilty of, must be laid to the fault of my total want of memory.

Has. And what do you hope from this confession?

Sir Luke. To remit the prisoner's punishment of death to something less, if the Sultan will please to annul the sentence.

Lord. Yes—and grant ten or twelve years imprisonment—or the Gallies for fourteen years—or——

Sir Luke. Ay, ay, something in that way.

Has. For shame—for shame—Gentlemen!—the extreme rigour you shew in punishing a dissension from your opinion, or a satire upon your folly, proves to conviction, what reward you had bestowed upon the skilful flatterer.

Twi. Gentlemen and Ladies, pray why wou'd you wish me requited with such extreme severity, merely for my humble endeavours to make myself agreeable?—Lady Tremor, upon my honour I was credibly informed, your ancestors were Kings of Scotland.

Lady. Impossible!—you might as well say that you heard Sir Luke had distinguished himself at the battle of——

Twi. And, I did hear so.

Lady. And he did distinguish himself; for he was the only one that ran away.

Twi. Cou'd it happen?

Lady. Yes, Sir, it did happen.

Sir Luke. And go you, Mr. Twineall, into a field of battle, and I think it is very likely to happen again.

Lord. If Mr. Haswell has obtained your pardon, Sir, it is all very well—but let me advise you to keep your sentiments on politics to yourself, for the future—as you value that pretty head of yours.

Twi. I thank you, Sir—I do value it.

Enter Elvirus.

Has. [Going to him.] Aurelia, in this letter to me, has explained your story with so much compassion, that, for her sake, I must pity it too.—With freedom to your father, and yourself, the Sultan restores his forfeited lands—and might I plead, Sir Luke, for your interest with Aurelia's friends, this young man's filial love, shou'd be repaid by conjugal affection.

Sir Luke. As for that, Mr. Haswell, you have so much interest at court, that your taking the young man under your protection——besides, as Aurelia was sent hither merely to get a husband—I don't see——

Aur. True, Sir Luke—and I am afraid my father and mother will begin to be uneasy that I have not got one yet—and I shou'd be very sorry to disoblige them.

Elv. No—say rather, sorry to make me wretched.—

[Taking her hand.

Enter Zedan.

Has. My Indian friend, have you received your freedom?

Zed. Yes—and come to bid you farewell—which I wou'd never do, had I not a family in wretchedness till my return—for you shou'd be my master, and I wou'd be your slave.——

Has. I thank you—may you meet at home every comfort!

Zed. May you—may you—what shall I say?—May you once in your life be a prisoner—then released—to feel such joy, as I feel now!——

Has. I thank you for a wish, that tells me most emphatically, how much you think I have served you.

Twi. And, my dear Lord, I sincerely wish you may once in your life, have your head chopped off—just to know what I shou'd have felt, in that situation.——

Zed. [Pointing to Haswell.] Are all his country-men as good as he?

Sir Luke. No-no-no-no—not all—but the worst of them are good enough to admire him.

Twi. Pray Mr. Haswell, will you suffer all these encomiums?

Elv. He must suffer them—there are virtues, which praise cannot taint—such are Mr. Haswell's—for they are the offspring of a mind, superior even to the love of fame—neither can they, through malice, suffer by applause, since they are too sacred to incite envy, and must conciliate the respect, the love, and the admiration of all.

FINIS.

EPILOGUE,

Written by MILES-PETER ANDREWS, Esq.

Spoken by Mrs. MATTOCKS.

Since all are sprung, they say, from Mother Earth,

Why stamp a merit or disgrace on birth?

Yet so it is, however we disguise it,

All boast their origin, or else despise it.

This pride or shame haunts ev'ry living soul

From Hyde-park Corner, down to Limehouse Hole:

Peers, taylors, poets, statesmen, undertakers,

Knights, squires, man-milliners, and peruke-makers.

Sir Hugh Glengluthglin, from the land of goats,

Tho' out at elbows, shews you all his coats;

And rightful heir to twenty pounds per annum,

Boasts the rich blood that warm'd his great great grannam;

While wealthy Simon Soapsuds; just be knighted,

Struck with the sword of state, is grown dim sighted,

Forgets the neighbouring chins he used to lather,

And scarcely knows he ever had a father.

Our Author, then, correct in every line,

From nature's characters hath pictur'd mine;

For many a lofty fair, who, friz'd and curl'd,

With crest of horse hair, tow'ring thro' the world,

To powder, paste, and pins, ungrateful grown,

Thinks the full periwig is all her own;

Proud of her conquering ringlets, onward goes,

Nor thanks the barber, from whose hands she rose.

Thus doth false pride fantastic minds mislead,

And make our weaker sex seem weak indeed:

Suppose, to prove this truth, in mirthful strain,

We bring the Dripping family again.—

Papa, a tallow chandler by descent,

Had read "how larning is most excellent:"

So Miss, returned from boarding school at Bow,

Waits to be finished by Mama and Co.—

"See, spouse, how spruce our Nan is grown, and tall;

I'll lay, she cuts a dash at Lord Mayor's ball."—

In bolts the maid—"Ma'am! Miss's master's come";—

Away fly Ma' and Miss to dancing room—

"Walk in, Mounseer; come, Nan, draw up like me."—

"Ma foi! Madame, Miss like you as two pea."—

Mounseer takes out his kit; the scene begins;

Miss trusses up; my lady Mother grins;—

"Ma'amselle, me teach a you de step to tread;

First turn you toe, den turn you littel head;

One, two, dree, sinka, risa, balance; bon,

Now entrechat, and now de cotillon."

[Singing and dancing about.

"Pardieu, Ma'amselle be one enchanting girl;

Me no surprise to see her ved an Earl."—

"With all my heart," says Miss; "Mounseer, I'm ready;

I dream'd last night, Ma, I should be a Lady."

Thus do the Drippings, all important grown,

Expect to shine with lustre not their own;

New airs are got; fresh graces, and fresh washes,

New caps, new gauze, new feathers, and new sashes;

Till just complete for conquest at Guildhall,

Down comes an order to suspend the ball.

Miss Shrieks, Ma' scolds, Pa' seems to have lost his tether;

Caps, custards, coronets—all sink together—

Papa resumes his jacket, dips away,

And Miss lives single, till next Lord Mayor's day.

If such the sorrow, and if such the strife,

That break the comforts of domestic life,

Look to the hero, who this night appears,

Whose boundless excellence the World reveres;

Who, friend to nature, by no blood confin'd,

Is the glad relative of all mankind.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE Contemporary spelling, hyphenation and punctuation (including placement of apostrophes) have generally been retained even where inconsistent. The following changes were made and can be identified in the body of the text by a grey dotted underline:
Politesse! how shou'd you underderstand what is real politesse?	Politesse! how shou'd you understand what is real politesse?
And I cant't say I wonder at your blushing.	And I can't say I wonder at your blushing.
Lady Ter. [Without.] Where is the poor creature?	Lady Tre. [Without.] Where is the poor creature?
(…) might I plead, Sir Luke, for your interest with Aureila's friends (…)	(…) might I plead, Sir Luke, for your interest with Aurelia's friends (…)
As for that, Mr. Haswell, you have so much interest at court, that your taking the young man under you protection——	As for that, Mr. Haswell, you have so much interest at court, that your taking the young man under your protection——