THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL

A COMEDY


By Richard Brinsley Sheridan


Prologue

A School for Scandal! Tell me, I beseech you,
Needs there a school this modish art to teach you?
No need of lesson now, the knowing think;
We might as well be taught to eat and drink.
Caused by a dearth of scandal, should the vapours
Distress our fair ones ñ let them read the papers;
Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit;
Crave what you will ñ there's quantum sufficit.
"Lord!" cries my Lady Wormwood (who loves tattle,
And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle),
Just risen at noon, all night at cards when threshing
Strong tea and scandal ñ "Bless me, how refreshing!
Give me the papers, Lisp ñ how bold and free! [Sips.]
Last night Lord L. [Sips.] was caught with Lady D.
For aching heads what charming sal volatile! [Sips.]
If Mrs B. will still continue flirting,
We hope she'll draw, or we'll undraw the curtain.
Fine satire, poz ñ in public all abuse it,
But, by ourselves [Sips.], our praise we can't refuse it.
Now, Lisp, read you ñ there; at that dash and star."
"Yes, ma'am: A certain lord had best beware,
Who lives not twenty miles from Grosvenor Square;
For should he Lady W. find willing,
Wormwood is bitter" ñ "Oh! that's me, the villain!
Throw it behind the fire, and never more
Let that vile paper come within my door."
Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart;
To reach our feelings, we ourselves must smart.
Is our young bard so young to think that he
Can stop the full spring-tide of calumny?
Knows he the world so little, and its trade?
Alas! the devil's sooner raised than laid.
So strong, so swift, the monster there's no gagging;
Cut Scandal's head off, still the tongue is wagging.
Proud of your smiles once lavishly bestowed,
Again our young Don Quixote takes the road;
To show his gratitude he draws his pen
And seeks this hydra, Scandal, in his den.
For your applause all perils he would through ñ
He'll fight ñ that's write ñ a cavalliero true,
Till every drop of blood ñ that's ink ñ is spilt for you.


Dramatis Personae

SIR PETER Teazle
SIR OLIVER Surface
JOSEPH Surface
CHARLES Surface
CRABTREE
SIR BENJAMIN Backbite
ROWLEY
MOSES
TRIP
SNAKE
CARELESS
SIR TOBY Bumper

LADY TEAZLE
MARIA
LADY SNEERWELL
MRS CANDOUR

GENTLEMEN, MAID, and SERVANTS.



Act 1.
Scene 1: Lady Sneerwell's Dressing-room.
LADY SNEERWELL discovered at her toilet; SNAKE drinking chocolate.

Lady Sneerwell:	The paragraphs, you say, Mr Snake, were all inserted? 

Snake:	They were, madam, and as I copied them myself in a feigned hand, 
there can be no suspicion whence they came. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle's intrigue 
with Captain Boastall? 

Snake:	That's in as fine a train as your ladyship could wish. In the common 
course of things, I think it must reach Mrs Clackitt's ears within four-and-
twenty hours; and then, you know, the business is as good as done. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Why, truly, Mrs Clackitt has a very pretty talent, and a 
great deal of industry. 

Snake:	True, madam, and has been tolerably successful in her day. To my 
knowledge she has been the cause of six matches being broken off and three 
being sons disinherited; of four forced elopements, and as many close 
confinements; nine separate maintenances, and two divorces. Nay, I have 
more than once traced her causing a tÍte-‡-tÍte in the Town and Country 
Magazine, when the parties, perhaps, had never seen each other's face 
before in the course of their lives. 

Lady Sneerwell:	She certainly has talents, but her manner is gross. 

Snake:	'Tis very true. She generally designs well, has a free tongue, and a 
bold invention; but her colouring is too dark and her outlines often 
extravagant. She wants that delicacy of hint and mellowness of sneer which 
distinguishes your ladyship's scandal. 

Lady Sneerwell:	You are partial, Snake. 

Snake:	Not in the least; everybody allows that Lady Sneerwell can do more 
with a word or a look than many can with the most laboured detail, even 
when they happen to have a little truth on their side to support it. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Yes, my dear Snake; and I am no hypocrite to deny the 
satisfaction I reap from the success of my efforts. Wounded myself, in the 
early part of my life, by the envenomed tongue of slander, I confess I have 
since known no pleasure equal to the reducing others to the level of my own 
injured reputation. 

Snake:	Nothing can be more natural. But, Lady Sneerwell, there is one 
affair in which you have lately employed me wherein, I confess, I am at a 
loss to guess your motives. 

Lady Sneerwell:	I conceive you mean with respect to my neighbour, Sir Peter 
Teazle, and his family? 

Snake:	I do. Here are two young men, to whom Sir Peter has acted as a kind 
of guardian since their father's death; the eldest possessing the most 
amiable character, and universally well spoken of, ñ the youngest the most 
dissipated and extravagant young fellow in the kingdom, without friends or 
character: the former an avowed admirer of your ladyship, and apparently 
your favourite; the latter attached to Maria, Sir Peter's ward, and 
confessedly beloved by her. Now, on the face of these circumstances, it is 
utterly unaccountable to me why you, the widow of a City knight, with a 
good jointure, should not close with the passion of a man of such character 
and expectations as Mr Surface; and more so why you should be so uncommonly 
earnest to destroy the mutual attachment subsisting between his brother 
Charles and Maria. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Then, at once to unravel this mystery, I must inform you 
that love has no share whatever in the intercourse between Mr Surface and 
me. 

Snake:	No! 

Lady Sneerwell:	His real attachment is to Maria, or her fortune; but, 
finding in his brother a favoured rival, he has been obliged to mask his 
pretensions and profit by my assistance. 

Snake:	Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself in his 
success. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Heavens! How dull you are! Cannot you surmise the weakness 
which I hitherto, through shame, have concealed even from you? Must I 
confess that Charles ñ that libertine, that extravagant, that bankrupt in 
fortune and reputation ñ that he it is for whom I'm thus anxious and 
malicious, and to gain whom I would sacrifice everything? 

Snake:	Now indeed your conduct appears consistent; but how came you and Mr 
Surface so confidential? 

Lady Sneerwell:	For our mutual interest. I have found him out a long time 
since. I know him to be artful, selfish, and malicious ñ in short, a 
sentimental knave; while with Sir Peter, and indeed with all his 
acquaintance, he passes for a youthful miracle of prudence, good sense, and 
benevolence. 

Snake:	Yes ñ yet Sir Peter vows he has not his equal in England; and, above 
all, he praises him as a man of sentiment. 

Lady Sneerwell:	True; and with the assistance of his sentiment and 
hypocrisy he has brought Sir Peter entirely into his interest with regard 
to Maria, while poor Charles has no friend in the house; though I fear he 
has a powerful one in Maria's heart, against whom we must direct our 
schemes. 

Enter SERVANT.

Servant:	Mr Surface. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Show him up.

Exit SERVANT.

	He generally calls about this time. I don't wonder at people giving him to 
me for a lover. 

Enter JOSEPH SURFACE.

Joseph:	My dear Lady Sneerwell, how do you do today? Mr Snake, your most 
obedient. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Snake has just been arraigning me on our mutual attachment; 
but I have informed him of our real views. You know how useful he has been 
to us, and, believe me, the confidence is not ill-placed. 

Joseph:	Madam, it is impossible for me to suspect a man of Mr Snake's 
sensibility and discernment. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Well, well, no compliments now; but tell me when you saw 
your mistress, Maria ñ or, what is more material to me, your brother. 

Joseph:	I have not seen either since I left you; but I can inform you that 
they never meet. Some of your stories have taken a good effect on Maria. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Ah, my dear Snake, the merit of this belongs to you. But do 
your brother's distresses increase? 

Joseph:	Every hour. I am told he has had another execution in the house 
yesterday. In short, his dissipation and extravagance exceed anything I 
have ever heard of. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Poor Charles! 

Joseph:	True, madam; notwithstanding his vices, one can't help feeling for 
him. Poor Charles! I'm sure I wish it were in my power to be of any 
essential service to him; for the man who does not share in the distresses 
of a brother, even though merited by his own misconduct, deserves ñ

Lady Sneerwell:	O lud! you are going to be moral, and forget that you are 
among friends. 

Joseph:	Egad, that's true! I'll keep that sentiment till I see Sir Peter. 
However, it is certainly a charity to rescue Maria from such a libertine, 
who, if he is to be reclaimed, can be so only by a person of your 
ladyship's superior accomplishments and understanding. 

Snake:	I believe, Lady Sneerwell, here's company coming. I'll go and copy 
the letter I mentioned to you. Mr Surface, your most obedient.

Joseph:	Sir, your very devoted.

Exit SNAKE.

	Lady Sneerwell, I am very sorry you have put any further confidence in 
that fellow. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Why so? 

Joseph:	I have lately detected him in frequent conference with old Rowley, 
who was formerly my father's steward and has never, you know, been a friend 
of mine. 

Lady Sneerwell:	And do you think he would betray us? 

Joseph:	Nothing more likely. Take my word for 't, Lady Sneerwell, that 
fellow hasn't virtue enough to be faithful even to his own villainy. Ah, 
Maria!

Enter MARIA.

Lady Sneerwell:	Maria, my dear, how do you do? What's the matter? 

Maria:	Oh! there's that disagreeable lover of mine, Sir Benjamin Backbite, 
has just called at my guardian's with his odious uncle, Crabtree; so I 
slipped out, and ran hither to avoid them. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Is that all? 

Joseph:	If my brother Charles had been of the party, madam, perhaps you 
would not have been so much alarmed. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Nay, now you are severe; for I dare swear the truth of the 
matter is Maria heard you were here. But, my dear, what has Sir Benjamin 
done that you should avoid him so? 

Maria:	Oh, he has done nothing ñ but 'tis for what he has said. His 
conversation is a perpetual libel on all his acquaintance. 

Joseph:	Ay, and the worst of it is there is no advantage in not knowing 
him, for he'll abuse a stranger just as soon as his best friend; and his 
uncle's as bad. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Nay, but we should make allowance: Sir Benjamin is a wit 
and a poet. 

Maria:	For my part, I confess, madam, wit loses its respect with me when I 
see it in company with malice. What do you think, Mr Surface? 

Joseph:	Certainly, madam; to smile at the jest which plants a thorn in 
another's breast is to become a principal in the mischief. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Pshaw! there s no possibility of being witty without a 
little ill-nature. The malice of a good thing is the barb that makes it 
stick. What's your opinion, Mr Surface? 

Joseph:	To be sure, madam, that conversation where the spirit of raillery 
is suppressed will ever appear tedious and insipid. 

Maria:	Well, I'll not debate how far scandal may be allowable; but in a 
man, I am sure, it is always contemptible. We have pride, envy, rivalship, 
and a thousand motives to depreciate each other; but the male slanderer 
must have the cowardice of a woman before he can traduce one. 

Enter SERVANT.

Servant:	Madam, Mrs Candour is below, and if your ladyship's at leisure, 
will leave her carriage. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Beg her to walk in.

Exit SERVANT.

	Now, Maria, here is a character to your taste; for though Mrs Candour is a 
little talkative, everybody allows her to be the best-natured and best sort 
of woman. 

Maria:	Yes, with a very gross affectation of good nature and benevolence, 
she does more mischief than the direct malice of old Crabtree. 

Joseph:	I'faith that's true, Lady Sneerwell. Whenever I hear the current 
running against the characters of my friends, I never think them in such 
danger as when Candour undertakes their defence. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Hush! Here she is. 

Enter MRS CANDOUR.

Mrs Candour:	My dear Lady Sneerwell, how have you been this century? Mr 
Surface, what news do you hear? Though indeed it is no matter, for I think 
one hears nothing else but scandal. 

Joseph:	Just so, indeed, ma'am. 

Mrs Candour:	Oh, Maria, child! What, is the whole affair off between you 
and Charles? His extravagance, I presume? ñ the town talks of nothing else. 

Maria:	Indeed! I am very sorry, ma'am, the town is not better employed. 

Mrs Candour:	True, true, child; but there's no stopping people's tongues. I 
own I was hurt to hear it, as indeed I was to learn from the same quarter 
that your guardian, Sir Peter, and Lady Teazle have not agreed lately as 
well as could be wished. 

Maria:	'Tis strangely impertinent for people to busy themselves so. 

Mrs Candour:	Very true, child, but what's to be done? People will talk ñ 
there's no preventing it. Why, it was but yesterday I was told that Miss 
Gadabout had eloped with Sir Filigree Flirt. But, Lord! there's no minding 
what one hears; though, to be sure, I had this from very good authority. 

Maria:	Such reports are highly scandalous. 

Mrs Candour:	So they are, child ñ shameful, shameful! But the world is so 
censorious, no character escapes. Lord! now who would have suspected your 
friend, Miss Prim, of an indiscretion? Yet such is the ill-nature of people 
that they say her uncle stopped her last week, just as she was stepping 
into the York mail with her dancing-master. 

Maria:	I'll answer for't there are no grounds for that report. 

Mrs Candour:	Oh, no foundation in the world, I dare swear ñ no more, 
probably, than for the story circulated last month of Mrs Festino's affair 
with Colonel Cassino ñ though, to be sure, that matter was never rightly 
cleared up. 

Joseph:	The licence of invention some people take is monstrous indeed. 

Maria:	'Tis so; but, in my opinion, those who report such things are 
equally culpable. 

Mrs Candour:	To be sure they are: tale-bearers are as bad as the tale-
makers ñ 'tis an old observation, and a very true one. But what's to be 
done, as I said before? How will you prevent people from talking? Today, 
Mrs Clackitt assured me, Mr and Mrs Honeymoon were at last become mere man 
and wife, like the rest of their acquaintance. She likewise hinted that a 
certain widow in the next street had got rid of her dropsy and recovered 
her shape in a most surprising manner. And at the same time Miss Tattle, 
who was by, affirmed that Lord Buffalo had discovered his lady at a house 
of no extraordinary fame; and that Sir Harry Bouquet and Tom Saunter were 
to measure swords on a similar provocation. But, Lord, do you think I would 
report these things? No, no, tale-bearers, as I said before, are just as 
bad as the tale-makers. 

Joseph:	Ah, Mrs Candour, if everybody had your forbearance and good nature! 

Mrs Candour:	I confess, Mr Surface, I cannot bear to hear people attacked 
behind their backs, and when ugly circumstances come out against one's 
acquaintance, I own I always love to think the best. By-the-by, I hope 'tis 
not true that your brother is absolutely ruined? 

Joseph:	I am afraid his circumstances are very bad indeed, ma'am. 

Mrs Candour:	Ah, I heard so ñ but you must tell him to keep up his spirits. 
Everybody almost is in the same way: Lord Spindle, Sir Thomas Splint, 
Captain Quinze, and Mr Nickit ñ all up, I hear, within this week. So, if 
Charles is undone, he'll find half his acquaintance ruined too, and that, 
you know, is a consolation. 

Joseph:	Doubtless, ma'am, a very great one. 

Enter SERVANT.

Servant:	Mr Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite.

Exit SERVANT.


Lady Sneerwell:	So, Maria, you see your lover pursues you; positively you 
shan't escape. 

Enter CRABTREE and SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE.

Crabtree:	Lady Sneerwell, I kiss your hand. Mrs Candour, I don't believe 
you are acquainted with my nephew, Sir Benjamin Backbite? Egad! ma'am, he 
has a pretty wit, and is a pretty poet too, isn't he, Lady Sneerwell? 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, fie, uncle! 

Crabtree:	Nay, egad, it's true. I'll back him at a rebus or a charade 
against the best rhymer in the kingdom. Has your ladyship heard the epigram 
he wrote last week on Lady Frizzle's feather catching fire? Do, Benjamin, 
repeat it, or the charade you made last night extempore at Mrs Drowzie's 
conversazione. Come now: your first is the name of a fish, your second a 
great naval commander, and ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Uncle, now, prithee ñ

Crabtree:	I'faith, ma'am, 'twould surprise you to hear how ready he is at 
all these sort of things. 

Lady Sneerwell:	I wonder, Sir Benjamin, you never publish anything. 

Sir Benjamin:	To say truth, ma'am, 'tis very vulgar to print; and, as my 
little productions are mostly satires and lampoons on particular people, I 
find they circulate more by giving copies in confidence to the friends of 
the parties. However, I have some love elegies, which, when favoured with 
this lady's smiles, I mean to give the public. 

Crabtree:	[to Maria] 'Fore heaven, ma'am, they'll immortalise you! You will 
be handed down to posterity, like Petrarch's Laura, or Waller's Sacharissa.

Sir Benjamin:	[to Maria] Yes, madam, I think you will like them when you 
shall see them on a beautiful quarto page, where a neat rivulet of text 
shall meander through a meadow of margin. 'Fore Gad, they will be the most 
elegant things of their kind! 

Crabtree:	But, ladies, that's true  ñ have you heard the news? 

Mrs Candour:	What, sir, do you mean the report of ñ

Crabtree:	No, ma'am, that's not it. Miss Nicely is going to be married to 
her own footman! 

Mrs Candour:	Impossible! 

Crabtree:	Ask Sir Benjamin. 

Sir Benjamin:	'Tis very true, ma'am: everything is fixed and the wedding 
liveries bespoke. 

Crabtree:	Yes, and they do say there were pressing reasons for it. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Why, I have heard something of this before. 

Mrs Candour:	It can't be ñ and I wonder anyone should believe such a story 
of so prudent a lady as Miss Nicely. 

Sir Benjamin:	O lud, ma'am, that's the very reason 'twas believed at once. 
She has always been so cautious and so reserved that everybody was sure 
there was some reason for it at bottom.

Mrs Candour:	Why, to be sure, a tale of scandal is as fatal to the credit 
of a prudent lady of her stamp, as a fever is generally to those of the 
strongest constitutions. But there is a sort of puny, sickly reputation 
that is always ailing, yet will outlive the robuster characters of a 
hundred prudes. 

Sir Benjamin:	True, madam, there are valetudinarians in reputation as well 
as in constitution, who, being conscious of their weak part, avoid the 
least breath of air, and supply their want of stamina by care and 
circumspection. 

Mrs Candour:	Well, but this may be all a mistake. You know, Sir Benjamin, 
very trifling circumstances often give rise to the most injurious tales. 

Crabtree:	That they do, I'll be sworn, ma'am. Did you ever hear how Miss 
Piper came to lose her lover and her character last summer at Tunbridge? ñ 
Sir Benjamin, you remember it? 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, to be sure! ñ the most whimsical circumstance. 

Lord Sneerwell:	How was it, pray?

Crabtree:	Why, one evening, at Mrs Ponto's assembly, the conversation 
happened to turn on the difficulty of breeding Nova Scotia sheep in this 
country. Says a young lady in company, 'I have known instances of it; for 
Miss Letitia Piper, a first cousin of mine, had a Nova Scotia sheep that 
produced her twins'. 'What!' cries the Lady Dowager Dundizzy (who you know 
is as deaf as a post), 'has Miss Piper had twins?' This mistake, as you may 
imagine, threw the whole company into a fit of laughter. However, 'twas the 
next morning everywhere reported, and in a few days believed by the whole 
town, that Miss Letitia Piper had actually been brought to bed of a fine 
boy and girl; and in less than a week there were some people who could name 
the father, and the farmhouse where the babies were put to nurse. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Strange indeed! 

Crabtree:	Matter of fact, I assure you. O lud, Mr Surface, pray is it true 
that your uncle Sir Oliver is coming home? 

Joseph:	Not that I know of, indeed, sir. 

Crabtree:	He has been in the East Indies a long time. You can scarcely 
remember him, I believe? Sad comfort, whenever he returns, to hear how your 
brother has gone on.

Joseph:	Charles has been imprudent, sir, to be sure; but I hope no busy 
people have already prejudiced Sir Oliver against him. He may reform. 

Sir Benjamin:	To be sure, he may. ñ For my part, I never believed him to be 
so utterly void of principle as people say; and, though he has lost all his 
friends, I am told nobody is better spoken of by the Jews. 

Crabtree:	That's true, egad, nephew. If the Old Jewry was a ward, I believe 
Charles would be an alderman: no man more popular there, 'fore Gad! I hear 
he pays as many annuities as the Irish tontine; and that, whenever he is 
sick, they have prayers for the recovery of his health in the Synagogue. 

Sir Benjamin:	Yet no man lives in greater splendour. They tell me when he 
entertains his friends he will sit down to dinner with a dozen of his own 
securities, have a score of tradesmen, in the antechamber, and an officer 
behind every guest's chair. 

Joseph:	This may be entertainment to you, gentlemen, but you pay very 
little regard to the feelings of a brother. 

Maria:	[aside] Their malice is intolerable. [Aloud] Lady Sneerwell, I must 
wish you a good morning ñ I'm not very well.

Exit MARIA.


Mrs Candour:	Oh dear, she changes colour very much. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Do, Mrs Candour, follow her; she may want assistance. 

Mrs Candour:	That I will, with all my soul, ma'am. Poor dear girl, who 
knows what her situation may be!

Exit MRS CANDOUR.

Lady Sneerwell:	'Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear Charles 
reflected on, notwithstanding their difference. 

Sir Benjamin:	The young lady's penchant is obvious. 

Crabtree:	But, Benjamin, you must not give up the pursuit for that:  follow 
her, and put her into good humour. Repeat her some of your own verses. 
Come, I'll assist you.

Sir Benjamin:	Mr Surface, I did not mean to hurt you; but depend on't your 
brother is utterly undone. 

Crabtree:	O lud, ay! undone as ever man was ñ can't raise a guinea! 

Sir Benjamin:	And everything sold, I'm told, that was movable. 

Crabtree:	I have seen one that was at his house. Not a thing left but some 
empty bottles that were overlooked, and the family pictures, which I 
believe are framed in the wainscots. 

Sir Benjamin:	And I'm very sorry, also, to hear some bad stories against 
him. [going]

Crabtree:	Oh, he has done many mean things, that's certain. 

Sir Benjamin:	But, however, as he's your brother ñ [going]

Crabtree:	We'll tell you all another opportunity.

Exeunt CRABTREE and SIR BENJAMIN.


Lady Sneerwell:	Ha, ha! 'tis very hard for them to leave a subject they 
have not quite run down. 

Joseph:	And I believe the abuse was no more acceptable to your ladyship 
than to Maria. 

Lady Sneerwell:	I doubt her affections are further engaged than we 
imagined. But the family are to be here this evening, so you may as well 
dine where you are, and we shall have an opportunity of observing further. 
In the meantime I'll go and plot mischief, and you shall study sentiment.

Exeunt.


Scene 2: a room in Sir Peter Teazle's house.

Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE

Sir Peter:	When an old bachelor marries a young wife, what is he to expect? 
'Tis now six months since Lady Teazle made me the happiest of men ñ and I 
have been the most miserable dog ever since! We tifted a little going to 
church, and fairly quarrelled before the bells had done ringing. I was more 
than once nearly choked with gall during the honeymoon, and had lost all 
comfort in life before my friends had done wishing me joy. Yet I chose with 
caution ñ a girl bred wholly in the country, who never knew luxury beyond 
one silk gown, nor dissipation above the annual gala of a race ball. Yet 
she now plays her part in all the extravagant fopperies of the fashion and 
the town, with as ready a grace as if she never had seen a bush nor a grass-
plot out of Grosvenor Square! I am now sneered at by all my acquaintance, 
and paragraphed in the newspapers. She dissipates my fortune, and 
contradicts all my humours; yet the worst of it is, I doubt I love her, or 
I should never bear all this. However, I'll never be weak enough to own it.

Enter ROWLEY.

Rowley:	Oh, Sir Peter, your servant. How is it with you, sir? 

Sir Peter:	Very bad, Master Rowley, very bad. I meet with nothing but 
crosses and vexations. 

Rowley:	What can have happened you since yesterday? 

Sir Peter:	A good question to a married man! 

Rowley:	Nay, I'm sure, Sir Peter,  your lady can't be the cause of your 
uneasiness. 

Sir Peter:	Why, has anybody told you she was dead? 

Rowley:	Come, come, Sir Peter, you love her, notwithstanding your tempers 
don't exactly agree. 

Sir Peter:	But the fault is entirely hers, Master Rowley. I am myself the 
sweetest-tempered man alive and hate a teasing temper ñ and so I tell her a 
hundred times a day. 

Rowley:	Indeed! 

Sir Peter:	Ay; and what is very extraordinary, in all our disputes she is 
always in the wrong! But Lady Sneerwell, and the set she meets at her 
house, encourage the perverseness of her disposition. Then, to complete my 
vexations, Maria, my ward, whom I ought to have the power of a father over, 
is determined to turn rebel too, and absolutely refuses the man whom I have 
long resolved on for her husband; meaning, I suppose, to bestow herself on 
his profligate brother. 

Rowley:	You know, Sir Peter, I have always taken the liberty to differ with 
you on the subject of these two young gentlemen. I only wish you may not be 
deceived in your opinion of the elder. For Charles ñ my life on't! ñ he 
will retrieve his errors yet. Their worthy father, once my honoured master, 
was, at his years, nearly as wild a spark; yet, when he died, he did not 
leave a more benevolent heart to lament his loss. 

Sir Peter:	You are wrong, Master Rowley. On their father's death, you know, 
I acted as a kind of guardian to them both, till their uncle Sir Oliver's 
eastern liberality gave them an early independence. Of course, no person 
could have more opportunities of judging of their hearts, and I was never 
mistaken in my life. Joseph is indeed a model for the young men of the age. 
He is a man of sentiment, and acts up to the sentiments he professes; but 
for the other, take my word for't, if he had any grain of virtue by 
descent, he has dissipated it with the rest of his inheritance. Ah, my old 
friend Sir Oliver will be deeply mortified when he finds how part of his 
bounty has been misapplied. 

Rowley:	I am sorry to find you so violent against the young man, because 
this may be the most critical period of his fortune. I came hither with 
news that will surprise you. 

Sir Peter:	What? Let me hear. 

Rowley:	Sir Oliver is arrived, and at this moment in town. 

Sir Peter:	How! You astonish me! I thought you did not expect him this 
month. 

Rowley:	I did not; but his passage has been remarkably quick. 

Sir Peter:	Egad, I shall rejoice to see my old friend. 'Tis fifteen years 
since we met. We have had many a day together; but does he still enjoin us 
not to inform his nephews of his arrival? 

Rowley:	Most strictly. He means, before it is known, to make some trial of 
their dispositions. 

Sir Peter:	Ah! there needs no art to discover their merits; however, he 
shall have his way. But pray does he know I am married? 

Rowley:	Yes, and will soon wish you joy. 

Sir Peter:	What, as we drink health to a friend in a consumption? Ah, 
Oliver will laugh at me. We used to rail at matrimony together, but he has 
been steady to his text. Well, he must be soon at my house, though ñ I'll 
instantly give orders for his reception. But, Master Rowley, don't drop a 
word that Lady Teazle and I ever disagree.

Rowley:	By no means. 

Sir Peter:	For I should never be able to stand Noll's jokes. So I'd have 
him think ñ Lord forgive me! ñ that we are a very happy couple. 

Rowley:	I understand you: ñ But then you must be very careful not to differ 
while he is in the house with you. 

Sir Peter:	Egad, and so we must ñ and that's impossible. Ah, Master Rowley, 
when an old bachelor marries a young wife, he deserves ñ no ñ  the crime 
carries its punishment along with it. 

Exeunt.


Act 2
Scene 1: a room in Sir Peter Teazel's house

Enter SIR PETER and LADY TEAZLE.

Sir Peter:	Lady Teazle, Lady Teazle, I'll not bear it! 

Lady Teazle:	Sir Peter, Sir Peter, you may bear it or not as you please; 
but I ought to have my own way in everything ñ and what's more, I will too. 
What, though I was educated in the country, I know very well that women of 
fashion in London are accountable to nobody after they are married. 

Sir Peter:	Very well, ma'am, very well ñ so a husband is to have no 
influence, no authority? 

Lady Teazle:	Authority! no, to be sure: ñ if you wanted authority over me, 
you should have adopted me and not married me. I am sure you were old 
enough. 

Sir Peter:	Old enough! ñ Ay, there it is! Well, well, Lady Teazle, though 
my life may be made unhappy by your temper, I'll not be ruined by your 
extravagance. 

Lady Teazle:	My extravagance! I'm sure I'm not more extravagant than a 
woman of fashion ought to be. 

Sir Peter:	No, no, madam, you shall throw away no more sums on such 
unmeaning luxury. 'Slife! to spend as much to furnish your dressing-room 
with flowers in winter as would suffice to turn the Pantheon' into a 
greenhouse, and give a fÍte champÍtre at Christmas!

Lady Teazle:	And am I to blame, Sir Peter, because flowers are dear in cold 
weather? You should find fault with the climate, and not with me. For my 
part, I'm sure I wish it was spring all the year round, and that roses grew 
under our feet! 

Sir Peter:	Oons, madam! ñ if you had been born to this I shouldn't wonder 
at your talking thus; but you forget what your situation was when I married 
you. 

Lady Teazle:	No, no, I don't. 'Twas a very disagreeable one, or I should 
never have married you. 

Sir Peter:	Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat an humbler style ñ 
the daughter of a plain country squire. Recollect, Lady Teazle, when I saw 
you first, sitting at your tambour in a pretty figured linen gown, with a 
bunch of keys at your side, your hair combed smooth over a roll, and your 
apartment hung round with fruits in worsted of your own working. 

Lady Teazle:	Oh, yes! I remember it very well, and a curious life I led ñ 
my daily occupation to inspect the dairy, superintend the poultry, make 
extracts from the family receipt-book, and comb my aunt Deborah's lap-dog. 

Sir Peter:	Yes, yes, ma'am, 'twas so indeed. 

Lady Teazle:	And then, you know, my evening amusements ñ to draw patterns 
for ruffles which I had not the materials to make up; to play Pope Joan 
with the curate; to read a sermon to my aunt; or to be stuck down to an old 
spinet to strum my father to sleep after a fox-chase. 

Sir Peter:	I am glad you have so good a memory. Yes, madam, these were the 
recreations I took you from; but now you must have your coach ñ vis-‡-vis ñ 
and three powdered footmen before your chair; and in the summer a pair of 
white cats to draw you to Kensington Gardens. No recollection, I suppose, 
when you were content to ride double behind the butler on a docked coach-
horse.

Lady Teazle:	No ñ I swear I never did that: I deny the butler and the coach-
horse. 

Sir Peter:	This, madam, was your situation; and what have I done for you? I 
have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank ñ in short, I have 
made you my wife. 

Lady Teazle:	Well, then ñ and there is but one thing more you can make me 
to add to the obligation, and that is ñ

Sir Peter:	My widow, I suppose? 

Lady Teazle:	Hem! Hem! 

Sir Peter:	Thank you, madam. But don't flatter yourself; for though your 
ill conduct may disturb my peace, it shall never break my heart, I promise 
you. However, I am equally obliged to you for the hint. 

Lady Teazle:	Then why will you endeavour to make yourself so disagreeable 
to me, and thwart me in every little elegant expense? 

Sir Peter:	'Slife, madam, I say, had you any of these little elegant 
expenses when you married me? 

Lady Teazle:	Lud, Sir Peter! would you have me be out of the fashion? 

Sir Peter:	The fashion, indeed! What had you to do with the fashion before 
you married me? 

Lady Teazle:	For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife 
thought a woman of taste. 

Sir Peter:	Ay! ñ there again ñ taste! Zounds, madam, you had no taste when 
you married me. 

Lady Teazle:	That's very true, indeed, Sir Peter; and after having married 
you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow. But now, Sir Peter, if 
we have finished our daily jangle, I presume I may go to my engagement at 
Lady Sneerwell's. 

Sir Peter:	Ay, there's another precious circumstance ñ a charming set of 
acquaintance you have made there! 

Lady Teazle:	Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and fortune, and 
remarkably tenacious of reputation. 

Sir Peter:	Yes, egad, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance; 
for they don't choose anybody should have a character but themselves. Such 
a crew! Ah, many a wretch has rid on a hurdle who has done less mischief 
than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal, and clippers of 
reputation. 

Lady Teazle:	What, would you restrain the freedom of speech? 

Sir Peter:	Ah, they have made you just as bad as any one of the society. 

Lady Teazle:	Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable grace. But I 
vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse. When I say an ill-natured 
thing, 'tis out of pure good humour; and I take it for granted they deal 
exactly in the same manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised 
to come to Lady Sneerwell's too. 

Sir Peter:	Well, well, I'll call in just to look after my own character. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or you'll be 
too late. So good-bye to ye!

Exit LADY SNEERWELL

Sir Peter:	So I have gained much by my intended expostulation. Yet with 
what a charming air she contradicts everything I say, and how pleasingly 
she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can't make her love 
me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she 
never appears to such advantage as when she is doing everything in her 
power to plague me.

Exit.


Scene 2: a room in Lady Sneerwell's house

LADY SNEERWELL, MRS CANDOUR, CRABTREE, SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE, and JOSEPH 
SURFACE discovered.

Lady Sneerwell:	Nay, positively, we will hear it. 

Joseph:	Yes, yes, the epigram, by all means. 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, plague on't, Uncle! 'Tis mere nonsense. 

Crabtree:	No, no; 'fore Gad, very clever for an extempore.

Sir Benjamin:	But, ladies, you should be acquainted with the circumstance. 
You must know that one day last week, as Lady Betty Curricle was taking the 
dust in Hyde Park in a sort of duodecimo phaeton, she desired me to write 
some verses on her ponies; upon which I took out my pocket-book and in one 
moment produced the following: 

	Sure never were seen two such beautiful ponies;
	Other horses are clowns, but these macaronies:
	To give 'em this title I'm sure isn't wrong.
	Their legs are so slim, and their tails are so long.

Crabtree:	There, ladies, done in the smack of a whip, and on horseback, 
too. 

Joseph:	A very Phoebus mounted ñ indeed, Sir Benjamin! 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, dear sir! ñ trifles, trifles.

Enter LADY TEAZLE and MARIA.

Mrs Candour:	I must have a copy. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Lady Teazle! I hope we shall see Sir Peter? 

Lady Teazle:	I believe he'll wait on your ladyship presently. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Maria, my love, you look grave. Come, you shall sit down to 
piquet with Mr Surface. 

Maria:	I take very little pleasure in cards; however, I'll do as your 
ladyship pleases. 

Lady Teazle:	[aside] I am surprised Mr Surface should sit down with her; I 
thought he would have embraced this opportunity of speaking to me before 
Sir Peter came. 

Mrs Candour:	Now, I'll die; but you are so scandalous, I'll forswear your 
society. 

Lady Teazle:	What's the matter, Mrs Candour? 

Mrs Candour:	They'll not allow our friend Miss Vermilion to be handsome. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Oh, surely she is a pretty woman. 

Crabtree:	I am very glad you think so, ma'am.

Mrs Candour:	She has a charming fresh colour. 

Lady Teazle:	Yes, when it is fresh put on. 

Mrs Candour:	Oh, fie! I'll swear her colour is natural: I have seen it come 
and go. 

Lady Teazle:	I daresay you have, ma'am: it goes off at night and comes 
again in the morning. 

Sir Benjamin:	True, ma'am, it not only comes and goes, but, what's more, ñ 
egad ñ her maid can fetch and carry it. 

Mrs Candour:	Ha, ha, ha! How I hate to hear you talk so! But surely now, 
her sister is ñ or was ñ very handsome. 

Crabtree:	Who ñ Mrs Evergreen? Oh, Lord, she's six and fifty if she's an 
hour. 

Mrs Candour:	Now positively you wrong her. Fifty-two or fifty-three is the 
utmost ñ and I don't think she looks more. 

Sir Benjamin:	Ah, there is no judging by her looks unless one could see her 
face. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Well, well, if Mrs Evergreen does take some pains to repair 
the ravages of time, you must allow she effects it with great ingenuity; 
and surely that's better than the careless manner in which the widow Ochre 
chalks her wrinkles. 

Sir Benjamin:	Nay, now, Lady Sneerwell, you are severe upon the widow. 
Come, come, 'tis not that she paints so ill ñ but when she has finished her 
face, she joins it on so badly to her neck that she looks like a mended 
statue, in which the connoisseur sees at once that the head's modern, 
though the trunk's antique. 

Crabtree:	Ha, ha, ha! Well said, nephew! 

Mrs Candour:	Ha, ha, ha! Well, you make me laugh, but I vow I hate you for 
it. What do you think of Miss Simper? 

Sir Benjamin:	Why, she has very pretty teeth. 

Lady Teazle:	Yes, and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor 
laughing (which very seldom happens), she never absolutely shuts her mouth, 
but leaves it always on a jar, as it were ñ thus [Shows her teeth.]

Mrs Candour:	How can you be so ill-natured? 

Lady Teazle:	Nay, I allow even that's better than the pains Mrs Prim takes 
to conceal her losses in front. She draws her mouth till it positively 
resembles the aperture of a poor's-box, and all her words appear to slide 
out edgewise, as it were ñ thus How do you do, madam?ñ Yes, madam. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Very well, Lady Teazle; I see you can be a little severe. 

Lady Teazle:	In defence of a friend it is but justice. But here comes Sir 
Peter to spoil our pleasantry.

Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE.

Sir Peter:	Ladies, your most obedient. [Aside.] Mercy on me, here is the 
whole set! A character dead at every word, I suppose. 

Mrs Candour:	I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter. They have been so 
censorious ñ and Lady Teazle as bad as anyone. 

Sir Peter:	It must be very distressing to you, Mrs Candour, I dare swear. 

Mrs Candour:	Oh, they will allow good qualities to nobody ñ not even good 
nature to our friend Mrs Pursy. 

Lady Teazle:	What, the fat dowager who was at Mrs Quadrille's last night? 

Mrs Candour:	Nay, her bulk is her misfortune; and when she takes such pains 
to get rid of it, you ought not to reflect on her. 

Lady Sneerwell:	That's very true, indeed. 

Lady Teazle:	Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey; laces 
herself by pulleys; and often, in the hottest noon in summer, you may see 
her on a little squat pony, with her hair plaited up behind like a 
drummer's, and puffing round the Ring on a full trot. 

Mrs Candour:	I thank you, Lady Teazle, for defending her. 

Sir Peter:	Yes, a good defence truly! 

Mrs Candour:	Truly, Lady Teazle is as censorious as Miss Sallow. 

Crabtree:	Yes, and she is a curious being to pretend to be censorious ñ an 
awkward gawky, without any one good point under heaven! 

Mrs Candour:	Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss Sallow is a 
near relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her person, great allowance 
is to be made; for, let me tell you, a woman labours under many 
disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl at six-and-thirty. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Though surely she is handsome still ñ and for the weakness 
in her eyes, considering how much she reads by candlelight, it is not to be 
wondered at.

Mrs Candour:	True, and then as to her manner ñ upon my word I think it is 
particularly graceful, considering she never had the least education. For 
you know her mother was a Welsh milliner and her father a sugar-baker at 
Bristol. 

Sir Benjamin:	Ah, you are both of you too good-natured! 

Sir Peter:	[aside] Yes, damned good-natured! This their own relation! Mercy 
on me! 

Mrs Candour:	For my part, I own I cannot bear to hear a friend ill spoken 
of. 

Sir Peter:	No, to be sure! 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, you are of a moral turn. Mrs Candour and I can sit for an 
hour and hear Lady Stucco talk sentiment. 

Lady Teazle:	Nay, I vow Lady Stucco is very well with the dessert after 
dinner; for she's just like the French fruit one cracks for mottoes ñ made 
up of paint and proverb. 

Mrs Candour:	Well, I never will join in ridiculing a friend ñ and so I 
constantly tell my cousin Ogle, and you all know what pretensions she has 
to be critical on beauty. 

Crabtree:	Oh, to be sure! ñ she has herself the oddest countenance that 
ever was seen: 'tis a collection of features from all the different 
countries of the globe. 

Sir Benjamin:	So she has indeed. An Irish front ñ

Crabtree:	Caledonian locks ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Dutch nose ñ

Crabtree:	Austrian lip ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Complexion of a Spaniard ñ

Crabtree:	And teeth ‡ la Chinoise! 

Sir Benjamin:	In short, her face resembles a table d'hÙte at Spa, where no 
two guests are of a nation ñ

Crabtree:	Or a congress at the close of a general war ñ wherein all the 
members, even to her eyes, appear to have a different interest, and her 
nose and chin are the only parties likely to join issue. 

Mrs Candour:	Ha, ha, ha! 

Sir Peter:	[aside] Mercy on my life ñ a person they dine with twice a week! 

Lady Sneerwell:	Go, go; you are a couple of provoking toads. 

Mrs Candour:	Nay, but I vow you shall not carry the laugh off so. For give 
me leave to say that Mrs Ogle ñ

Sir Peter:	Madam, madam, I beg your pardon ñ there's no stopping these good 
gentlemen's tongues. But when I tell you, Mrs Candour, that the lady they 
are abusing is a particular friend of mine, I hope you'll not take her 
part. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Ha, ha, ha! Well said, Sir Peter! But you are a cruel 
creature, too phlegmatic yourself for a jest, and too peevish to allow wit 
in others. 

Sir Peter:	Ah, madam, true wit is more nearly allied to good nature than 
your ladyship is aware of. 

Lady Teazle:	True, Sir Peter: I believe they are so near akin that they can 
never be united. 

Sir Benjamin:	Or rather, madam, suppose them to be man and wife, because 
one seldom sees them together. 

Lady Teazle:	But Sir Peter is such an enemy to scandal, I believe he would 
have it put down by Parliament. 

Sir Peter:	'Fore heaven, madam, if they were to consider the sporting with 
reputation of as much importance as poaching on manors, and pass an Act for 
the Preservation of Fame, I believe there are many would thank them for the 
Bill. 

Lady Sneerwell:	O lud, Sir Peter, would you deprive us of our privileges? 

Sir Peter:	Ay, madam; and then no person should be permitted to kill 
characters and run down reputations, but qualified old maids and 
disappointed widows. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Go, you monster! 

Mrs Candour:	But surely you would not be quite so severe on those who only 
report what they hear?

Sir Peter:	Yes, madam, I would have law merchant for them too; and in all 
cases of slander currency, whenever the drawer of the lie was not to be 
found, the injured parties should have a right to come on any of the 
endorsers. 

Crabtree:	Well, for my part, I believe there never was a scandalous tale 
without some foundation. 

Sir Peter:	Oh, nine out of ten of the malicious inventions are founded on 
some ridiculous misrepresentation. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Come, ladies, shall we sit down to cards in the next room? 

Enter a SERVANT who  whispers SIR PETER.

Sir Peter:	I'll be with them directly. 

Exit SERVANT.

	[aside] I'll get away unperceived. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Sir Peter, you are not leaving us? 

Sir Peter:	Your ladyship must excuse me; I'm called away by particular 
business. But I leave my character behind me. 

Exit SIR PETER.


Sir Benjamin:	Well, certainly, Lady Teazle, that lord of yours is a strange 
being. I could tell you some stories of him would make you laugh heartily 
if he were not your husband. 

Lady Teazle:	Oh, pray don t mind that. Come, do let's hear them. 

Exeunt all but JOSEPH SURFACE and MARIA.


Joseph: 	Maria, I see you have no satisfaction in this society. 

Maria:	How is it possible I should? If to raise malicious smiles at the 
infirmities or misfortunes of those who have never injured us be the 
province of wit or humour, heaven grant me a double portion of dullness! 

Joseph:	Yet they appear more ill-natured than they are ñ they have no 
malice at heart. 

Maria:	Then is their conduct still more contemptible; for, in my opinion, 
nothing could excuse the intemperance of their tongues but a natural and 
ungovernable bitterness of mind. 

Joseph:	Undoubtedly, madam; and it has always been a sentiment of mine that 
to propagate a malicious truth wantonly is more despicable than to falsify 
from revenge. But can you, Maria, feel thus for others, and be unkind to me 
alone? Is hope to be denied the tenderest passion? 

Maria:	Why will you distress me by renewing the subject? 

Joseph:	Ah, Maria, you would not treat me thus, and oppose your guardian 
Sir Peter's will, but that I see that profligate Charles is still a 
favoured rival. 

Maria:	Ungenerously urged! But what ever my sentiments are of that 
unfortunate young man, be assured I shall not feel more bound to give him 
up because his distresses have lost him the regard even of a brother. 

Joseph:	Nay, but Maria, do not leave me with a frown. [Kneels] By all 
that's honest I swear ñ

Enter LADY TEAZLE.

	[aside] Gad's life, here's Lady Teazle. [Aloud] You must not ñ no, you 
shall not ñ for though I have the greatest regard for Lady Teazle 

Maria:	Lady Teazle! 

Joseph:	Yet were Sir Peter to suspect ñ

LADY TEAZLE comes forward.

Lady Teazle:	What is this, pray? Do you take her for me? ñ Child, you are 
wanted in the next room.

Exit MARIA.

	What is all this, pray?

Joseph:	Oh, the most unlucky circumstance in nature! Maria has somehow 
suspected the tender concern I have for your happiness, and threatened to 
acquaint Sir Peter with her suspicions, and I was just endeavouring to 
reason with her when you came in. 

Lady Teazle:	Indeed! But you seemed to adopt a very tender mode of 
reasoning. Do you usually argue on your knees? 

Joseph:	Oh, she's a child, and I thought a little bombast ñ but, Lady 
Teazle, when are you to give me your judgement on my library, as you 
promised? 

Lady Teazle:	No, no; I begin to think it would be imprudent, and you know I 
admit you as a lover no farther than fashion sanctions.

Joseph:	True ñ a mere Platonic cicisbeo: what every wife is entitled to. 

Lady Teazle:	Certainly one must not be out of the fashion. However, I have 
so much of my country prejudices left that, though Sir Peter's ill humour 
may vex me ever so, it shall never provoke me to ñ

Joseph:	The only revenge in your power. Well, I applaud your moderation. 

Lady Teazle:	Go! You are an insinuating wretch! But we shall be missed ñ 
let us join the company. 

Joseph:	But we had best not return together. 

Lady Teazle:	Well, don't stay; for Maria shan't come to hear any more of 
your reasoning, I promise you. 

Exit LADY TEAZLE

Joseph:	A curious dilemma my politics have run me into! I wanted at first 
only to ingratiate myself with Lady Teazle that she mightn't be my enemy 
with Maria; and I have, I don't know how, became her serious lover. 
Sincerely I begin to wish I had never made such a point of gaining so very 
good a character, for it has led me into so many cursed rogueries that I 
doubt I shall be exposed at last.

Exit.


Scene 3: a room in Sir Peter Teazle's house.

Enter SIR OLIVER SURFACE and ROWLEY.

Sir Oliver:	Ha, ha, ha! So my old friend is married, hey? A young wife out 
of the country. ñ Ha, ha, ha! ñ That he should have stood bluff to old 
bachelor so long and sink into a husband at last. 

Rowley:	But you must not rally him on the subject, Sir Oliver; 'tis a 
tender point, I assure you, though he has been married only seven months.

Sir Oliver:	Then he has been just half a year on the stool of repentance! 
Poor Peter! But you say he has entirely given up Charles ñ never sees him, 
hey? 

Rowley:	His prejudice against him is astonishing, and I am sure greatly 
increased by a jealousy of him with Lady Teazle, which he has industriously 
been led into by a scandalous society in the neighbourhood, who have 
contributed not a little to Charles's ill name; whereas the truth is, I 
believe, if the lady is partial to either of them, his brother is the 
favourite. 

Sir Oliver:	Aye, I know there are a set of malicious, prating, prudent 
gossips, both male and female, who murder characters to kill time, and will 
rob a young fellow of his good name before he has years to know the value 
of it. But I am not to be prejudiced against my nephew by such, I promise 
you. No, no, if Charles has done nothing false or mean, I shall compound 
for his extravagance. 

Rowley:	Then, my life on't, you will reclaim him. Ah, sir, it gives me new 
life to find that your heart is not turned against him, and that the son of 
my good old master has one friend, however, left. 

Sir Oliver:	What, shall I forget, Master Rowley, when I was at his years 
myself? Egad, my brother and I were neither of us very prudent youths ñ and 
yet, I believe, you have not seen many better men than your old master was. 

Rowley:	Sir, 'tis this reflection gives me assurance that Charles may yet 
be a credit to his family. But here comes Sir Peter. 

Sir Oliver:	Egad, so he does! Mercy on me, he's greatly altered, and seems 
to have a settled married look. One may read husband in his face at this 
distance! 

Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE.

Sir Peter:	Hah! Sir Oliver ñ my old friend. Welcome to England a thousand 
times! 

Sir Oliver:	Thank you, thank you, Sir Peter! And i'faith I am as glad to 
find you well, believe me. 

Sir Peter:	Oh! 'tis a long time since we met ñ fifteen years, I doubt, Sir 
Oliver, and many a cross accident in the time. 

Sir Oliver:	Aye, I have had my share. But what! ñ I find you are married, 
hey? Well, well, it can't be helped, and so I wish you joy with all my 
heart.

Sir Peter:	Thank you, thank you, Sir Oliver. Yes, I have entered into the 
happy state. But we'll not talk of that now. 

Sir Oliver:	True, true, Sir Peter: old friends should not begin on 
grievances at first meeting. No, no, no. 

Rowley:	[to SIR OLIVER] Take care, pray, sir. 

Sir Oliver:	Well ñ so one of my nephews is a wild rogue, hey? 

Sir Peter:	Wild! Ah, my old friend, I grieve for your disappointment there; 
he's a lost young man, indeed. However, his brother will make you amends; 
Joseph is, indeed, what a youth should be. Everybody in the world speaks 
well of him. 

Sir Oliver:	I am sorry to hear it; he has too good a character to be an 
honest fellow. Everybody speaks well of him! Pshaw! Then he has bowed as 
low to knaves and fools as to the honest dignity of genius and virtue. 

Sir Peter:	What, Sir Oliver, do you blame him for not making enemies? 

Sir Oliver:	Yes, if he has merit enough to deserve them. 

Sir Peter:	Well, well ñ you'll be convinced when you know him. 'Tis 
edification to hear him converse; he professes the noblest sentiments. 

Sir Oliver:	Oh, plague of his sentiments! If he salutes me with a scrap of 
morality in his mouth, I shall be sick directly. But, however, don't 
mistake me, Sir Peter; I don't mean to defend Charles's errors. ñ But 
before I form my judgement of either of them, I intend to make a trial of 
their hearts; and my friend Rowley and I have planned something for the 
purpose. 

Rowley:	And Sir Peter shall own for once he has been mistaken. 

Sir Peter:	Oh, my life on Joseph's honour! 

Sir Oliver:	Well, come, give us a bottle of good wine, and we'll drink the 
lads' health, and tell you our scheme. 

Sir Peter:	Allons, then! 

Sir Oliver:	And don't, Sir Peter, be so severe against your old friend's 
son. Odds my life! I am not sorry that he has run out of the course a 
little. For my part, I hate to see prudence clinging to the green suckers 
of youth; 'tis like ivy round a sapling and spoils the growth of the tree.

Exeunt.


Act 3
Scene 1: a room in Sir Peter Teazle's house.

Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE, SIR OLIVER SURFACE, and ROWLEY.

Sir Peter:	Well, then, we will see this fellow first, and have our wine 
afterwards. But how is this, Master Rowley? I don't see the jet of your 
scheme. 

Rowley:	Why, sir, this Mr Stanley, whom I was speaking of, is nearly 
related to them by their mother. He was once a merchant in Dublin, but has 
been ruined by a series of undeserved misfortunes. He has applied, by 
letter, since his confinement, both to Mr Surface and Charles: from the 
former he has received nothing but evasive promises of future service, 
while Charles has done all that his extravagance has left him power to do; 
and he is, at this time, endeavouring to raise a sum of money, part of 
which, in the midst of his own distresses, I know he intends for the 
service of poor Stanley. 

Sir Oliver:	Ah! he is my brother's son. 

Sir Peter:	Well, but how is Sir Oliver personally to ñ

Rowley:	Why, sir, I will inform Charles and his brother that Stanley has 
obtained permission to apply personally to his friends; and, as they have 
neither of them ever seen him, let Sir Oliver assume his character, and he 
will have a fair opportunity of judging at least of the benevolence of 
their dispositions. And believe me, sir, you will find in the younger 
brother one who, in the midst of folly and dissipation, has still, as our 
immortal bard expresses it, ñ

				"a heart to pity, and a hand
	Open as day for melting charity."

Sir Peter:	Pshaw! What signifies his having an open hand, or purse either, 
when he has nothing left to give? Well, well, make the trial if you please. 
But where is the fellow whom you brought for Sir Oliver to examine, 
relative to Charles's affairs? 

Rowley:	Below, waiting his commands, and no one can give him better 
intelligence. This, Sir Oliver, is a friendly Jew who, to do him justice, 
has done everything in his power to bring your nephew to a proper sense of 
his extravagance. 

Sir Peter:	Pray, let us have him in. 

Rowley:	[calls to SERVANT] Desire Mr Moses to walk upstairs. 

Sir Peter:	But, pray, why should you suppose he will speak the truth? 

Rowley:	Oh, I have convinced him that he has no chance of recovering 
certain sums advanced to Charles but through the bounty of Sir Oliver, who 
he knows has arrived, so that you may depend on his fidelity to his own 
interests. I have also another evidence in my power, one Snake, whom I have 
detected in a matter little short of forgery, and shall speedily produce 
him to remove some of your prejudices. 

Sir Peter:	I have heard too much on that subject. 

Rowley:	Here comes the honest Israelite.

Enter MOSES

	This is Sir Oliver. 

Sir Oliver:	Sir, I understand you have lately had great dealings with my 
nephew, Charles. 

Moses:	Yes, Sir Oliver, I have done all I could for him; but he was ruined 
before he came to me for assistance. 

Sir Oliver:	That was unlucky, truly, for you have had no opportunity of 
showing your talents. 

Moses:	None at all. I hadn't the pleasure of knowing his distresses till he 
was some thousands worse than nothing.

Sir Oliver:	Unfortunate, indeed! But I suppose you have done all in your 
power for him, honest Moses? 

Moses:	Yes, he knows that. This very evening I was to have brought him a 
gentleman from the City, who does not know him, and will, I believe, 
advance him some money. 

Sir Peter:	What, one Charles has never had money from before? 

Moses:	Yes ñ Mr Premium of Crutched Friars, formerly a broker. 

Sir Peter:	Egad, Sir Oliver! a thought strikes me. Charles, you say, does 
not know Mr Premium? 

Moses:	Not at all. 

Sir Peter:	Now then, Sir Oliver, you may have a better opportunity of 
satisfying yourself than by an old romancing tale of a poor relation. Go 
with my friend Moses, and represent Mr Premium; and then, I'll answer for 
it, you'll see your nephew in all his glory. 

Sir Oliver:	Egad! I like this idea better than the other, and I may visit 
Joseph afterwards as old Stanley. 

Sir Peter:	True, so you may. 

Rowley:	Well, this is taking Charles rather at a disadvantage, to be sure. 
However, Moses, you understand Sir Peter, and will be faithful? 

Moss:	You may depend upon me. [Looks at his watch] This is near the time I 
was to have gone. 

Sir Oliver:	I'll accompany you as soon as you please, Moses. But hold, I 
have forgot one thing. How the plague shall I be able to pass for a Jew? 

Moses:	There's no need ñ the principal is Christian. 

Sir Oliver:	Is he? I'm very sorry to hear it. But then again, an't I rather 
too smartly dressed to look like a money-lender? 

Sir Peter:	Not at all; 'twould not be out of character if you went in your 
own carriage ñ would it, Moses? 

Moses:	Not in the least. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, but how must I talk? There's certainly some cant of usury 
and mode of treating that I ought to know. 

Sir Peter:	Oh, there's not much to learn. The great point, as I take it, is 
to be exorbitant enough in your demands ñ hey, Moses?

Moses:	Yes, that's a very great point. 

Sir Oliver:	I'll answer for't I'll not be wanting in that. I'll ask him 
eight or ten per cent on the loan ñ at least. 

Moses:	If you ask him no more than that, you'll be discovered immediately. 

Sir Oliver:	Hey, what the plague! How much then? 

Moses:	That depends upon the circumstances. If he appears not very anxious 
for the supply, you should require only forty or fifty per cent. But if you 
find him in great distress and want the moneys very bad, you may ask 
double. 

Sir Peter:	A good honest trade you're learning, Sir Oliver. 

Sir Oliver:	Truly, I think so ñ and not unprofitable. 

Moses:	Then, you know, you haven't the moneys yourself, but are forced to 
borrow them for him of an old friend. 

Sir Oliver:	Oh, I borrow it of a friend, do I? 

Moses:	Yes, and your friend is an unconscionable dog; but you can't help 
that. 

Sir Oliver:	My friend is an unconscionable dog, is he? 

Moses:	Yes, and he himself has not the moneys by him, but is forced to sell 
stock at a great loss. 

Sir Oliver:	He is forced to sell stock at a great loss, is he? Well, that's 
very kind of him. 

Sir Peter:	I'faith, Sir Oliver ñ Mr Premium, I mean ñ you'll soon be master 
of the trade. But, Moses, wouldn't you have him run out a little against 
the Annuity Bill? That would be in character, I should think. 

Moses:	Very much. 

Rowley:	And lament that a young man now must be at years of discretion 
before he is suffered to ruin himself? 

Moses:	Aye, great pity! 

Sir Peter:	And abuse the public for allowing merit to an Act whose only 
object is to snatch misfortune and imprudence from the rapacious grip of 
usury, and give the minor a chance of inheriting his estate without being 
undone by coming into possession.

Sir Oliver:	So ñ so ñ Moses shall give me further instructions as we go 
together. 

Sir Peter:	You will not have much time, for your nephew lives hard by. 

Sir Oliver:	Oh, never fear: my tutor appears so able that, though Charles 
lived in the next street, it must be my own fault if I am not a complete 
rogue before I turn the corner. 

Exeunt SIR OLIVER SURFACE and MOSES.

Sir Peter:	So now I think Sir Oliver will be convinced. You are partial, 
Rowley, and would have prepared Charles for the other plot. 

Rowley:	No, upon my word, Sir Peter. 

Sir Peter:	Well, go bring me this Snake, and I'll hear what he has to say 
presently. I see Maria, and want to speak with her.

Exit ROWLEY.

	I should be glad to be convinced my suspicions of Lady Teazle and Charles 
were unjust. I have never yet opened my mind on this subject to my friend 
Joseph. I am determined I will do it; he will give me his opinion 
sincerely. 

Enter MARIA.

	So, child, has Mr Surface returned with you? 

Maria:	No, sir; he was engaged. 

Sir Peter:	Well, Maria, do you not reflect, the more you converse with that 
amiable young man, what return his partiality for you deserves? 

Maria:	Indeed, Sir Peter, your frequent importunity on this subject 
distresses me extremely. You compel me to declare that I know no man who 
has ever paid me a particular attention whom I would not prefer to Mr 
Surface. 

Sir Peter:	So ñ here's perverseness! No, no, Maria, 'tis Charles only whom 
you would prefer. 'Tis evident his vices and follies have won your heart. 

Maria:	This is unkind, sir. You know I have obeyed you in neither seeing 
nor corresponding with him. I have heard enough to convince me that he is 
unworthy my regard. Yet I cannot think it culpable, if, while my 
understanding severely condemns his vices, my heart suggests some pity for 
his distresses.

Sir Peter:	Well, well, pity him as much as you please, but give your heart 
and hand to a worthier object. 

Maria:	Never to his brother. 

Sir Peter:	Go, perverse and obstinate! But take care, madam ñ you have 
never yet known what the authority of a guardian is. Don't compel me to 
inform you of it. 

Maria:	I can only say, you shall not have just reason. 'Tis true, by my 
father's will, I am for a short period bound to regard you as his 
substitute, but must cease to think you so when you would compel me to be 
miserable. 

Exit

Sir Peter:	Was ever man so crossed as I am? ñ everything conspiring to fret 
me! I had not been involved in matrimony a fortnight before her father, a 
hale and hearty man, died, on purpose I believe, for the pleasure of 
plaguing me with the care of his daughter. But here comes my helpmate. She 
appears in great good humour. How happy I should be if I could tease her 
into loving me, though but a little! 

Enter LADY TEAZLE.

Lady Teazle:	Lud, Sir Peter! I hope you haven't been quarrelling with 
Maria? It is not using me well to be ill-humoured when I am not by. 

Sir Peter:	Ah, Lady Teazle, you might have the power to make me good-
humoured at all times. 

Lady Teazle:	I am sure I wish I had, for I want you to be in a charming 
sweet temper at this moment. Do be good-humoured now, and let me have two 
hundred pounds, will you? 

Sir Peter:	Two hundred pounds! What, an't I to be in a good humour without 
paying for it? But speak to me thus, and i'faith there's nothing I could 
refuse you. You shall have it; but seal me a bond for the repayment. 

Lady Teazle:	Oh, no ñ there ñ my note of hand will do as well [offering her 
hand]. 

Sir Peter:	And you shall no longer reproach me with not giving you an 
independent settlement. I mean shortly to surprise you. But shall we always 
live thus, hey? 

Lady Teazle:	If you please. I'm sure I don't care how soon we leave off 
quarrelling, provided you'll own you were tired first.

Sir Peter:	Well, then let our future contest be, who shall be most 
obliging. 

Lady Teazle:	I assure you, Sir Peter, good nature becomes you. You look now 
as you did before we were married, when you used to walk with me under the 
elms and tell me stories of what a gallant you were in your youth, and 
chuck me under the chin, you would, and ask me if I thought I could love an 
old fellow who would deny me nothing ñ didn't you? 

Sir Peter:	Yes, yes, and you were as kind and attentive ñ

Lady Teazle:	Aye, so I was, and would always take your part when my 
acquaintance used to abuse you and turn you into ridicule. 

Sir Peter:	Indeed! 

Lady Teazle:	Aye, and when my cousin Sophy has called you a stiff, peevish 
old bachelor, and laughed at me for thinking of marrying one who might be 
my father, I have always defended you and said I didn't think you so ugly 
by any means ñ and I dared say you'd make a very good sort of a husband. 

Sir Peter:	And you prophesied right; and we shall certainly now be the 
happiest couple ñ

Lady Teazle:	And never differ again? 

Sir Peter:	No, never. Though at the same time indeed, my dear Lady Teazle, 
you must watch your temper very narrowly, for in all our quarrels, my dear, 
if you recollect, my love, you always began first. 

Lady Teazle:	I beg your pardon, my dear Sir Peter: indeed you always gave 
the provocation. 

Sir Peter:	Now see, my angel! take care ñ contradicting isn't the way to 
keep friends. 

Lady Teazle:	Then don't you begin it, my love. 

Sir Peter:	There, now, you ñ you are going on. You don't perceive, my life, 
that you are just doing the very thing which you know always makes me 
angry. 

Lady Teazle:	Nay, you know if you will be angry without any reason, my dear 
ñ

Sir Peter:	There! now you want to quarrel again. 

Lady Teazle:	No, I'm sure I don't; but if you will be so peevish ñ

Sir Peter:	There now! who begins first?

Lady Teazle:	Why, you, to be sure. I said nothing ñ but there's no bearing 
your temper. 

Sir Peter:	No, no, madam: the fault's in your own temper. 

Lady Teazle:	Aye, you are just what my cousin Sophy said you would be. 

Sir Peter:	Your cousin Sophy is a forward, impertinent gypsy. 

Lady Teazle:	You are a great bear, I'm sure, to abuse my relations. 

Sir Peter:	Now may all the plagues of marriage be doubled on me if ever I 
try to be friends with you any more! 

Lady Teazle:	So much the better. 

Sir Peter:	No, no, madam: 'tis evident you never cared a pin for me, and I 
was a madman to marry you ñ a pert, rural coquette, that had refused half 
the honest squires in the neighbourhood. 

Lady Teazle:	And I am sure I was a fool to marry you ñ an old dangling 
bachelor, who was single at fifty only because he never could meet with 
anyone who would have him. 

Sir Peter:	Aye, aye, madam; but you were pleased enough to listen to me. 
You never had such an offer before. 

Lady Teazle:	No? Didn't I refuse Sir Tivy Terrier, who everybody said would 
have been a better match, for his estate is just as good as yours, and he 
has broke his neck since we have married? 

Sir Peter:	I have done with you, madam! You are an unfeeling, ungrateful ñ 
but there's an end of everything. I believe you capable of everything that 
is bad. Yes, madam, I now believe the reports relative to you and Charles, 
madam. Yes, madam, you and Charles are, not without grounds 

Lady Teazle:	Take care, Sir Peter! You had better not insinuate any such 
thing. I'll not be suspected without cause, I promise you. 

Sir Peter:	Very well, madam, very well! A separate maintenance as soon as 
you please. Yes, madam, or a divorce! I'll make an example of myself for 
the benefit of all old bachelors. Let us separate, madam. 

Lady Teazle:	Agreed, agreed! And now, my dear Sir Peter, we are of a mind 
once more, we may be the happiest couple and never differ again, you know. 
ñ Ha, ha, ha! ñ Well, you are going to be in a passion, I see, and I shall 
only interrupt you; so bye! bye!

Exit.

Sir Peter:	Plagues and tortures! Can't I make her angry either? Oh, I am 
the miserablest fellow! But I'll not bear her presuming to keep her temper. 
No, she may break my heart, but she shan't keep her temper. 

Exit.


Scene 2: a room in Charles Surface's house.

Enter TRIP, MOSES, and SIR OLIVER SURFACE.

Trip:	Here, Master Moses! If you'll stay a moment, I'll try whether ñ 
what's the gentleman's name? 

Sir Oliver:	[aside to MOSES] Mr Moses, what is my name? 

Moses:	Mr Premium. 

Trip:	Premium. ñ Very well. 

Exit, taking snuff.

Sir Oliver:	To judge by the servants, one wouldn't believe the master was 
ruined. But what ñ sure, this was my brother's house? 

Moses:	Yes, sir; Mr Charles bought it of Mr Joseph, with the furniture, 
pictures, &c, just as the old gentleman left it. Sir Peter thought it a 
great piece of extravagance in him. 

Sir Oliver:	In my mind, the other's economy in selling it to him was more 
reprehensible by half. 

Enter TRIP.

Trip:	My master says you must wait, gentlemen; he has company, and can't 
speak with you yet. 

Sir Oliver:	If he knew who it was wanted to see him, perhaps he wouldn't 
have sent such a message. 

Trip:	Yes, yes, sir; he knows you are here. I did not forget little Premium 
ñ no, no, no. 

Sir Oliver:	Very well. And I pray, sir, what may be your name? 

Trip:	Trip, sir; my name is Trip, at your service. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, then, Mr Trip, you have a pleasant sort of place here, I 
guess?

Trip:	Why, yes. Here are three or four of us pass our time agreeably 
enough, but then our wages are sometimes a little in arrear ñ and not very 
great either ñ but fifty pounds a year, and find our own bags and bouquets. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Bags and bouquets! Halters and bastinadoes! 

Trip:	And ‡ propos, Moses, have you been able to get me that little bill 
discounted? 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Wants to raise money, too! ñ mercy on me! Has his 
distresses too, I warrant, like a lord ñ and affects creditors and duns. 

Moses:	'Twas not to be done, indeed, Mr Trip.

Trip:	Good lack, you surprise me! My friend Brush has endorsed it, and I 
thought when he put his name at the back of a bill 'twas as good as cash. 

Moses:	No, 'twouldn't do. 

Trip:	A small sum ñ but twenty pounds. Hark 'ee, Moses, do you think you 
could get it me by way of annuity? 

Sir Oliver: 	[aside] An annuity! Ha, ha! A footman raise money by way of 
annuity! Well done, luxury, egad! 

Moses:	Well, but you must insure your place. 

Trip:	Oh, with all my heart! I'll insure my place, and my life too, if you 
please. 

Sir Oliver: 	[aside] It's more than I would your neck. 

Moses:	But is there nothing you could deposit? 

Trip:	Why, nothing capital of my master's wardrobe has dropped lately; but 
I could give you a mortgage on some of his winter clothes, with equity of 
redemption before November; or you shall have the reversion of the French 
velvet, or a post-obit on the blue and silver. These, I should think, 
Moses, with a few pair of point ruffles, as a collateral security ñ hey, my 
little fellow? 

Moses:	Well, well.

Bell rings.

Trip:	Egad, I heard the bell! I believe, gentlemen, I can now introduce 
you. Don't forget the annuity, little Moses! This way, gentlemen, I'll 
insure my place, you know. 

Sir Oliver: 	[aside] If the man be a shadow of the master, this is the 
temple of dissipation indeed.

Exeunt.


Scene 3: another room in the same.

CHARLES SURFACE, SIR HARRY BUMPER,  CARELESS and GENTLEMEN discovered 
drinking.

Charles:	'Fore heaven, 'tis true ñ there's the great degeneracy of the age! 
Many of our acquaintance have taste, spirit, and politeness; but plague 
on't, they won't drink. 

Careless:	It is so, indeed, Charles. They give in to all the substantial 
luxuries of the table, and abstain from nothing but wine and wit. 

Charles:	Oh, certainly society suffers by it intolerably; for now, instead 
of the social spirit of raillery that used to mantle over a glass of bright 
Burgundy, their conversation is become just like the Spa-water they drink, 
which has all the pertness and flatulence of Champagne, without its spirit 
or flavour. 

1st Gentleman:	But what are they to do who love play better than wine? 

Careless:	True! there's Sir Harry diets himself for gaming, and is now 
under a hazard regimen. 

Charles:	Then he'll have the worst of it. What! You wouldn't train a horse 
for the course by keeping him from corn? For my part, egad, I am now never 
so successful as when I am a little merry: let me throw on a bottle of 
Champagne, and I never lose ñ at least I never feel my losses, which is 
exactly the same thing. 

2nd Gentleman:	Aye, that I believe. 

Charles:	And then, what man can pretend to be a believer in love, who is an 
abjurer of wine? 'Tis the test by which the lover knows his own heart. Fill 
a dozen bumpers to a dozen beauties, and she that floats atop is the maid 
that has bewitched you. 

Careless:	Now then, Charles, be honest, and give us your real favourite. 

Charles:	Why, I have withheld her only in compassion to you. If I toast 
her, you must give a round of her peers, which is impossible ñ on earth. 

Careless:	Oh, then we'll find some canonised vestals or heathen goddesses 
that will do, I warrant. 

Charles:	Here then, bumpers, you rogues! bumpers! Maria! Maria ñ

Sir Toby:	Maria who? 

Charles:	Oh, damn the surname! ñ 'tis too formal to be registered in Love's 
calendar. But now, Sir Toby, beware! we must have beauty superlative. 

Careless:	Nay, never study, Sir Toby: we'll stand to the toast though your 
mistress should want an eye, and you know you have a song will excuse you. 

Sir Toby:	Egad, so I have! and I'll give him the song instead of the lady. 

Sings.
	Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
		Here's to the widow of fifty;
	Here's to the flaunting, extravagant quean,
		And here's to the housewife that's thrifty. 

CHORUS		Let the toast pass, ñ
				Drink to the lass,
		I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.

	Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize;
		Now to the maid who has none, sir;
	Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
		And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.

CHORUS		Let the toast pass, ñ
				Drink to the lass,
		I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.

	Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow;
		Now to her that's brown as a berry:
	Here's to the wife with a face full of woe,
		And now to the girl that's merry. 

CHORUS		Let the toast pass, ñ
				Drink to the lass,
		I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.

	For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim,
		Young or ancient, I care not a feather;
	So fill a pint bumper quite up to the brim,
		And let us e'en toast them together. 

CHORUS		Let the toast pass, ñ
				Drink to the lass,
		I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.

All:	Bravo! bravo! 

Enter TRIP and whispers CHARLES SURFACE.

Charles:	Gentlemen, you must excuse me a little. Careless, take the chair, 
will you? 

Careless:	Nay, prithee, Charles, what now? This is one of your peerless 
beauties, I suppose, has dropped in by chance? 

Charles:	No, faith! To tell you the truth, 'tis a Jew and a broker, who are 
come by appointment. 

Careless:	Oh, damn it! let's have the Jew in. 

1st Gentleman:	Aye, and the broker too, by all means. 

2nd Gentleman:	Yes, yes, the Jew and the broker! 

Charles:	Egad, with all my heart! Trip, bid the gentlemen walk in. 

Exit TRIP.

	Though there's one of them a stranger, I can tell you. 

Careless:	Charles, let us give them some generous Burgundy and perhaps 
they'll grow conscientious. 

Charles:	Oh, hang 'em, no! Wine does but draw forth a man's natural 
qualities, and to make them drink would only be to whet their knavery. 

Enter TRIP with  SIR OLIVER, and MOSES.

Charles:	So, honest Moses, walk in; walk in, pray, Mr Premium ñ that's the 
gentleman's name, isn't it, Moses? 

Moses:	Yes, sir. 

Charles:	Set chairs, Trip. ñ Sit down, Mr Premium. ñ Glasses, Trip. ñ Sit 
down, Moses. Come, Mr Premium, I'll give you a sentiment: here's Success to 
usury! Moses, fill the gentleman a bumper.

Moses:	Success to usury! [Drinks.] 

Careless:	Right, Moses! Usury is prudence and industry, and deserves to 
succeed. 

Sir Oliver:	Then here's ñ All the success it deserves! [Drinks.] 

Careless:	No, no, that won't do. Mr Premium, you have demurred at the toast 
and must drink it in a pint bumper. 

1st Gentleman:	 A pint bumper at least. 

Moses:	Oh, pray, sir, consider ñ Mr Premium's a gentleman. 

Careless:	And therefore loves good wine. 

2nd Gentleman:	Give Moses a quart glass ñ this is mutiny and a high 
contempt for the chair. 

Careless:	Here, now for't! I'll see justice done to the last drop of my 
bottle. 

Sir Oliver:	Nay, pray, gentlemen; I did not expect this usage. 

Charles:	No, hang it, you shan't. Mr Premium's a stranger. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Odd! I wish I was well out of their company. 

Careless:	Plague on 'em, then! If they don't drink, we'll not sit down with 
them. Come, Harry, the dice are in the next room. Charles, you'll join us 
when you have finished your business with these gentlemen? 

Charles:	I will! I will!

Exeunt SIR HARRY BUMPER and GENTLEMEN; CARELESS following.

	Careless! 

Careless:	[returning] Well? 

Charles:	Perhaps I may want you. 

Careless:	Oh, you know I am always ready: word, note, or bond, 'tis all the 
same to me.

Exit.

Moses:	Sir, this is Mr Premium, a gentleman of the strictest honour and 
secrecy; ñ and always performs what he undertakes. Mr Premium, this is ñ

Charles:	Pshaw! have done. Sir, my friend Moses is a very honest fellow, 
but a little slow at expression: he'll be an hour giving us our titles. Mr 
Premium, the plain state of the matter is this: I am an extravagant young 
fellow who wants to borrow money; you I take to be a prudent old fellow, 
who has got money to lend. I am blockhead enough to give fifty per cent 
sooner than not have it; and you, I presume, are rogue enough to take a 
hundred if you can get it. Now, sir, you see we are acquainted at once and 
may proceed to business without further ceremony. 

Sir Oliver:	Exceeding frank, upon my word. I see, sir, you are not a man of 
many compliments. 

Charles:	Oh, no, sir ñ plain dealing in business I always think best. 

Sir Oliver:	Sir, I like you the better for it. However, you are mistaken in 
one thing. I have no money to lend, but I believe I could procure some of a 
friend. But then, he's an unconscionable dog ñ isn't he, Moses? And must 
sell stock to accommodate you ñ mustn't he, Moses?

Moses:	Yes indeed! You know I always speak the truth, and scorn to tell a 
lie.

Charles:	Right. People that speak the truth generally do. But these are 
trifles, Mr Premium. What! I know money isn't to be bought without paying 
for't. 

Sir Oliver:	Well ñ but what security could you give? You have no land, I 
suppose? 

Charles:	Not a mole-hill nor a twig, but what's in beau-pots out of the 
window! 

Sir Oliver:	Nor any stock, I presume? 

Charles:	Nothing but livestock ñ and that's only a few pointers and ponies. 
But pray, Mr Premium, are you acquainted at all with any of my connections? 

Sir Oliver:	Why, to say truth, I am. 

Charles:	Then you must know that I have a devilish rich uncle in the East 
Indies, Sir Oliver Surface, from whom I have the greatest expectations. 

Sir Oliver:	That you have a wealthy uncle I have heard, but how your 
expectations will turn out is more, I believe, than you can tell. 

Charles:	Oh, no ñ there can be no doubt. They tell me I'm a prodigious 
favourite and that he talks of leaving me everything. 

Sir Oliver:	Indeed! This is the first I've heard on't. 

Charles:	Yes, yes, 'tis just so. Moses knows 'tis true, don't you, Moses? 

Moses:	Oh, yes! I'll swear to't. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Egad! they'll persuade me presently I'm at Bengal. 

Charles:	Now I propose, Mr Premium, if it's agreeable to you, a post-obit 
on Sir Oliver's life; though at the same time the old fellow has been so 
liberal to me that I give you my word I should be very sorry to hear that 
anything had happened to him. 

Sir Oliver:	Not more than I should, I assure you. But the bond you mention 
happens to be just the worst security you could offer me ñ for I might live 
to a hundred and never recover the principal. 

Charles:	Oh, yes, you would. The moment Sir Oliver dies, you know, you 
would come on me for the money. 

Sir Oliver:	Then I believe I should be the most unwelcome dun you ever had 
in your life. 

Charles:	What? I suppose you are afraid now that Sir Oliver is too good a 
life? 

Sir Oliver:	No, indeed I am not; though I have heard he is as hale and 
healthy as any man of his years in Christendom. 

Charles:	There again, now, you are misinformed. No, no, the climate has 
hurt him considerably, poor Uncle Oliver. Yes, yes, he breaks apace, I'm 
told ñ and is so much altered lately that his nearest relations don't know 
him. 

Sir Oliver:	No? Ha, ha, ha! ñ so much altered lately that his nearest 
relations don't know him! Ha, ha, ha! That's droll, egad, ha, ha, ha! 

Charles:	Ha, ha! You're glad to hear that, little Premium. 

Sir Oliver:	No, no, I'm not. 

Charles:	Yes, yes, you are. Ha, ha, ha! You know that mends your chance. 

Sir Oliver:	But I'm told Sir Oliver is coming over. Nay, some say he is 
actually arrived. 

Charles:	Pshaw! Sure I must know better than you whether he's come or not. 
No, no, rely on't, he's at this moment at Calcutta, isn't he, Moses?

Moses:	Oh, yes, certainly. 

Sir Oliver:	Very true, as you say, you must know better than I; though I 
have it from pretty good authority, haven't I, Moses? 

Moses:	Yes, most undoubted! 

Sir Oliver:	But, sir, as I understand you want a few hundreds immediately, 
is there nothing you could dispose of? 

Charles:	How do you mean? 

Sir Oliver:	For instance now, I have heard that your father left behind him 
a great quantity of massy old plate. 

Charles:	Oh, lud, that's gone long ago. Moses can tell you how better than 
I can. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Good lack! all the family race-cups and corporation-
bowls! [Aloud] Then it was also supposed that his library was one of the 
most valuable and complete 

Charles:	Yes, yes, so it was ñ vastly too much so for a private gentleman. 
For my part, I was always of a communicative disposition, so I thought it a 
shame to keep so much knowledge to myself. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Mercy upon me! Learning that had run in the family like 
an heirloom! [Aloud] Pray, what are become of the books?

Charles:	You must inquire of the auctioneer, Master Premium, for I don't 
believe even Moses can direct you. 

Moses:	I know nothing of books. 

Sir Oliver:	So, so, nothing of the family property left, I suppose? 

Charles:	Not much, indeed, unless you have a mind to the family pictures. I 
have got a room full of ancestors above, and if you have a taste for 
paintings, egad, you shall have 'em a bargain. 

Sir Oliver:	Hey! What the devil! Sure, you wouldn't sell your forefathers, 
would you? 

Charles:	Every man of them to the best bidder. 

Sir Oliver:	What! Your great-uncles and aunts? 

Charles:	Aye, and my great-grandfathers and grandmothers too. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Now I give him up! [Aloud] What the plague, have you no 
bowels for your own kindred? Odd's life, do you take me for Shylock in the 
play, that you would raise money of me on your own flesh and blood?

Charles:	Nay, my little broker, don't be angry: what need you care if you 
have your money's worth? 

Sir Oliver:	Well, I'll be the purchaser: I think I can dispose of the 
family canvas. [Aside] Oh, I'll never forgive him this! ñ never! 

Enter CARELESS.

Careless:	Come, Charles, what keeps you? 

Charles:	I can't come yet. I'faith, we are going to have a sale above 
stairs. Here's little Premium will buy all my ancestors. 

Careless:	Oh, burn your ancestors! 

Charles:	No, he may do that afterwards if he pleases. Stay, Careless, we 
want you. Egad, you shall be auctioneer ñ so come along with us. 

Careless:	Oh, have with you, if that's the case. I can handle a hammer as 
well as a dice-box. Going! Going!

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Oh, the profligates! 

Charles:	Come, Moses, you shall be appraiser if we want one. Gad's life, 
little Premium, you don't seem to like the business. 

Sir Oliver:	Oh, yes, I do, vastly. Ha, ha, ha! Yes, yes, I think it a rare 
joke to sell one's family by auction. Ha, ha! [Aside] Oh, the prodigal! 

Charles:	To be sure! When a man wants money, where the plague should he get 
assistance if he can't make free with his own relations? 

Exeunt.

Act 4
Scene 1: a picture room at Charles Surface's house.

Enter CHARLES SURFACE, SIR OLIVER SURFACE, MOSES, and CARELESS.

Charles:	Walk in, gentlemen, pray walk in. ñ Here they are, the family of 
the Surfaces, up to the Conquest. 

Sir Oliver:	And, in my opinion, a goodly collection. 

Charles:	Aye, aye, these are done in the true spirit of portrait painting ñ 
no volontiËre grace or expression, not like the works of your modern 
Raphaels, who gives you the strongest resemblance, yet contrives to make 
your own portrait independent of you, so that you may sink the original and 
not hurt the picture. No, no; the merit of these is the inveterate likeness 
ñ all stiff and awkward as the originals, and like nothing in human nature 
beside. 

Sir Oliver:	Ah! we shall never see such figures of men again. 

Charles:	I hope not. Well, you see, Master Premium, what a domestic 
character I am. Here I sit of an evening surrounded by my family. But come, 
get to your pulpit, Mr Auctioneer. Here's an old gouty chair of my 
grandfather's will answer the purpose. 

Careless:	Aye, aye, this will do. But, Charles, I haven't a hammer ñ and 
what's an auctioneer without his hammer? 

Charles:	Egad, that's true! What parchment have we here? Richard, heir to 
Thomas. Oh, our genealogy in full. [Taking pedigree down] Here, Careless, 
you shall have no common bit of mahogany, here's the family tree for you, 
you rogue. This shall be your hammer, and now you may knock down my 
ancestors with their own pedigree. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] What an unnatural rogue ñ an ex post facto parricide! 

Careless:	Yes, yes, here's a list of your generation indeed. Faith, 
Charles, this is the most convenient thing you could have found for the 
business, for 'twill serve not only as a hammer but a catalogue into the 
bargain. But come, begin ñ A-going, a-going, a-going! 

Charles:	Bravo, Careless! Well, here's my great-uncle Sir Richard Raveline, 
a marvellous good general in his day, I assure you. He served in all the 
Duke of Marlborough's wars, and got that cut over his eye at the Battle of 
Malplaquet. What say you, Mr Premium? Look at him ñ there's a hero for you! 
Not cut out of his feathers, as your modern clipped captains are, but 
enveloped in wig and regimentals, as a general should be. What do you bid? 

Moses:	Mr Premium would have you speak. 

Charles:	Why, then, he shall have him for ten pounds, and I'm sure that's 
not dear for a staff-officer. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Heaven deliver me! His famous uncle Richard for ten 
pounds! [Aloud] Very well, sir, I take him at that. 

Charles:	Careless, knock down my Uncle Richard. Here now is a maiden sister 
of his, my great-aunt Deborah, done by Kneller, in his best manner, and 
esteemed a very formidable likeness. There she is, you see, a shepherdess 
feeding her flock. You shall have her for five pounds ten ñ the sheep are 
worth the money. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Ah, poor Deborah ñ a woman who set such value on 
herself! [Aloud] Five pounds ten ñ she's mine. 

Charles:	Knock down my aunt Deborah. Here now are two that were a sort of 
cousins of theirs. You see, Moses, these pictures were done some time ago, 
when beaux wore wigs, and the ladies their own hair.

Sir Oliver:	Yes, truly, head-dresses appear to have been a little lower in 
those days. 

Charles:	Well, take that couple for the same. 

Moses:	'Tis a good bargain. 

Charles:	Careless! This now is a grandfather of my mother's, a learned 
judge, well known on the western circuit. What do you rate him at, Moses? 

Moses:	Four guineas. 

Charles:	Four guineas! Gad's life, you don't bid me the price of his wig. 
Mr Premium, you have more respect for the woolsack; do let us knock his 
lordship down at fifteen. 

Sir Oliver:	By all means. 

Careless:	Gone. 

Charles:	And these are two brothers of his, William and Walter Blunt, 
Esquires, both Members of Parliament and noted speakers; and what's very 
extraordinary, I believe this is the first time they, were ever bought and 
sold. 

Sir Oliver:	That is very extraordinary, indeed! I'll take them at your own 
price, for the honour of Parliament. 

Careless:	Well said, little Premium! I'll knock them down at forty. 

Charles:	Here's a jolly fellow. I don't know what relation, but he was 
Mayor of Norwich. Take him at eight pounds. 

Sir Oliver:	No, no; six will do for the mayor. 

Charles:	Come, make it guineas, and I'll throw you the two aldermen there 
into the bargain. 

Sir Oliver:	They're mine. 

Charles:	Careless, knock down the Lord Mayor and aldermen. But, plague 
on't, we shall be all day retailing in this manner. Do let us deal 
wholesale, what say you, little Premium? Give us three hundred pounds for 
the rest of the family in the lump. 

Careless:	Aye, aye, that will be the best way. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, well, anything to accommodate you: they are mine. But 
there is one portrait which you have always passed over. 

Careless:	What, that ill-looking little fellow over the settee?

Sir Oliver:	Yes, sir, I mean that; though I don't think him so ill-looking 
a little fellow by any means. 

Charles:	What, that? Oh, that's my Uncle Oliver; 'twas done before he went 
to India. 

Careless:	Your Uncle Oliver! Gad, then you'll never be friends, Charles. 
That now to me is as stern a looking rogue as ever I saw ñ an unforgiving 
eye and a damned disinheriting countenance. An inveterate knave, depend 
on't. Don't you think so, little Premium? 

Sir Oliver:	Upon my soul, sir, I do not; I think it is as honest a looking 
face as any in the room, dead or alive. But I suppose your Uncle Oliver 
goes with the rest of the lumber? 

Charles:	No, hang it! I'll not part with poor Noll. The old fellow has been 
very good to me, and egad I'll keep his picture while I've a room to put it 
in. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] The rogue's my nephew after all! [Aloud] But, sir, I 
have somehow taken a fancy to that picture. 

Charles:	I'm sorry for't, for you certainly will not have it. Oons, haven't 
you got enough of them? 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] I forgive him for everything! [Aloud] But, sir, when I 
take a whim in my head, I don't value money. I'll give you as much for that 
as for all the rest. 

Charles:	Don't tease me, master broker. I tell you I'll not part with it, 
and there's an end of it. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] How like his father the dog is! [Aloud] Well, well, I 
have done. [Aside] I did not perceive it before, but I think I never saw 
such a striking resemblance. [Aloud] Well, sir, here's a draft for your 
sum. 

Charles:	Why, 'tis for eight hundred pounds! 

Sir Oliver:	You will not let Sir Oliver go? 

Charles:	Zounds, no! I tell you once more. 

Sir Oliver:	Then never mind the difference, we'll balance that another 
time; but give me your hand on the bargain. You are an honest fellow, 
Charles ñ I beg pardon, sir, for being so free. Come, Moses. 

Charles:	[aside] Egad, this is a whimsical old fellow! [Aloud] But hark 
'ee, Premium, you'll prepare lodgings for these gentlemen. 

Sir Oliver:	Yes, yes, I'll send for them in a day or two.

Charles:	But hold! ñ do now send a genteel conveyance for them, for, I 
assure you, they were most of them used to ride in their own carriages. 

Sir Oliver:	I will, I will ñ for all but Oliver. 

Charles:	Aye, all but the little nabob.

Sir Oliver:	You're fixed on that? 

Charles:	Peremptorily. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] A dear extravagant rogue! [Aloud] Good day! Come, 
Moses. [Aside] Let me hear now who dares call him profligate! 

Exeunt SIR OLIVER and MOSES.

Careless:	Why, this is the oddest genius of the sort I ever saw. 

Charles:	Egad, he's the prince of brokers, I think. I wonder how the devil 
Moses got acquainted with so honest a fellow. Ha! here's Rowley. Do, 
Careless, say I'll join the company in a few moments. 

Careless:	I will; but don't let that old blockhead persuade you to squander 
any of that money on old musty debts, or any such nonsense; for tradesmen, 
Charles, are the most exorbitant fellows! 

Charles:	Very true, and paying them is only encouraging them. 

Careless:	Nothing else. 

Charles:	Aye, aye, never fear.

Exit CARELESS.

	So this was an odd old fellow, indeed! Let me see, two-thirds of this is 
mine by right ñ five hundred and thirty odd pounds. 'Fore heaven! I find 
one's ancestors are more valuable relations than I took 'em for! ñ [To the 
pictures] Ladies and gentlemen, your most obedient and very grateful humble 
servant.

Enter ROWLEY.

	Ha, old Rowley! Egad, you are just come in time to take leave of your old 
acquaintance. 

Rowley:	Yes, I heard they were a-going. But I wonder you can have such 
spirits under so many distresses. 

Charles:	Why, there's the point ñ my distresses are so many that I can't 
afford to part with my spirits. But I shall be rich and splenetic all in 
good time. However, I suppose you are surprised that I am not more 
sorrowful at parting with so many near relations. To be sure, 'tis very 
affecting; but, you see, they never move a muscle, so why should I? 

Rowley:	There's no making you serious a moment. 

Charles:	Yes, faith, I am so now. Here, my honest Rowley, here, get me this 
changed directly, and take a hundred pounds of it immediately to old 
Stanley. 

Rowley:	A hundred pounds! Consider only ñ

Charles:	Gad's life, don't talk about it: poor Stanley's wants are 
pressing, and if you don't make haste, we shall have someone call that has 
a better right to the money. 

Rowley:	Ah, there's the point! I never will cease dunning you with the old 
proverb ñ

Charles:	"Be just before you're generous." ñ Why, so I would if I could; 
but Justice is an old lame hobbling beldame, and I can't get her to keep 
pace with Generosity for the soul of me. 

Rowley:	Yet, Charles, believe me, one hour's reflection ñ

Charles:	Aye, aye, it's all very true; but, hark 'ee, Rowley, while I have, 
by heaven I'll give; so damn your economy! ñ and now for hazard. 

Exeunt.


Scene 2: another room in Charles Surface's house.

Enter SIR OLIVER and MOSES.

Moses:	Well, sir, I think, as Sir Peter said, you have seen Mr Charles in 
high glory; 'tis great pity he's so extravagant.

Sir Oliver:	True, but he wouldn't sell my picture.

Moses:	And loves wine and women so much.

Sir Oliver:	But he wouldn't sell my picture.

Moses:	And games so deep. 

Sir Oliver:	But he wouldn't sell my picture. Oh, here's Rowley. 

Enter ROWLEY.

Rowley:	So, Sir Oliver, I find you have made a purchase. 

Sir Oliver:	Yes, yes, our young rake has parted with his ancestors like old 
tapestry. 

Rowley:	And here has he commissioned me to redeliver you part of the 
purchase-money ñ I mean, though, in your necessitous character of old 
Stanley. 

Moses:	Ah, there is the pity of all; he is so damned charitable. 

Rowley:	And I left a hosier and two tailors in the hall who, I'm sure, 
won't be paid, and this hundred would satisfy them. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, well, I'll pay his debts, and his benevolence too. But 
now I am no more a broker and you shall introduce me to the elder brother 
as old Stanley. 

Rowley:	Not yet awhile. Sir Peter, I know, means to call there about this 
time. 

Enter TRIP.

Trip:	Oh, gentlemen, I beg pardon for not showing you out; this way. Moses, 
a word. 

Exeunt TRIP and MOSES.

Sir Oliver:	There's a fellow for you! Would you believe it, that puppy 
intercepted the Jew on our coming and wanted to raise money before he got 
to his master. 

Rowley:	Indeed. 

Sir Oliver:	Yes, they are now planning an annuity business. Ah, Master 
Rowley, in my days servants were content with the follies of their masters, 
when they were worn a little threadbare; but now they have their vices, 
like their birthday clothes, with the gloss on. 

Exeunt.



Scene 3: a library in Joseph Surface's  house.

Enter JOSEPH and SERVANT.


Joseph:	No letter from Lady Teazle? 

Servant:	No, sir. 

Joseph:	[aside] I am surprised she has not sent, if she is prevented from 
coming. Sir Peter certainly does not suspect me. Yet, I wish I may not lose 
the heiress, through the scrape I have drawn myself in with the wife; 
however, Charles's imprudence and bad character are great points in my 
favour.

Knocking  without.

Servant:	Sir, I believe that must be Lady Teazle. 

Joseph:	Hold! See whether it is or not before you go to the door; I have a 
particular message for you if it should be my brother. 

Servant:	'Tis her ladyship, sir; she always leaves her chair at the 
milliner's in the next street. 

Joseph:	Stay, stay; draw that screen before the window ñ that will do. My 
opposite neighbour is a maiden lady of so curious a temper.

SERVANT draws the screen, and exit.

	I have a difficult hand to play in this affair. Lady Teazle has lately 
suspected my views on Maria; but she must by no means be let into the 
secret ñ at least, not till I have her more in my power.

Enter LADY TEAZLE.

Lady Teazle:	What! Sentiment in soliloquy now? Have you been very 
impatient? O lud! don't pretend to look grave. I vow I couldn't come 
before. 

Joseph:	Oh, madam, punctuality is a species of constancy, a very 
unfashionable quality in a lady. 

Lady Teazle:	Upon my word, you ought to pity me. Do you know Sir Peter is 
grown so ill-tempered to me of late ñ and so jealous of Charles too! That's 
the best of the story, isn't it? 

Joseph:	[aside] I am glad my scandalous friends keep that up. 

Lady Teazle:	I am sure I wish he would let Maria marry him, and then 
perhaps he would be convinced; don't you, Mr Surface? 

Joseph:	[aside] Indeed I do not. [Aloud] Oh, certainly I do; for then my 
dear Lady Teazle would also be convinced how wrong her suspicions were of 
my having any design on the silly girl. 

Lady Teazle:	Well, well, I m inclined to believe you. But isn't it 
provoking to have the most ill-natured things said of one? And there's my 
friend Lady Sneerwell has circulated I don't know how many scandalous tales 
of me, and all without any foundation, too ñ that's what vexes me. 

Joseph:	Aye, madam, to be sure, that is the provoking circumstance ñ 
without foundation. Yes, yes, there's the mortification, indeed; for, when 
a scandalous story is believed against one, there certainly is no comfort 
like the consciousness of having deserved it. 

Lady Teazle:	No, to be sure, then I'd forgive their malice. But to attack 
me, who am really so innocent and who never say an ill-natured thing of 
anybody ñ that is, of any friend; and then Sir Peter, too, to have him so 
peevish and so suspicious, when I know the integrity of my own heart ñ 
indeed, 'tis monstrous! 

Joseph:	But, my dear Lady Teazle, 'tis your own fault if you suffer it. 
When a husband entertains a groundless suspicion of his wife and withdraws 
his confidence from her, the original compact is broken, and she owes it to 
the honour of her sex to endeavour to outwit him. 

Lady Teazle:	Indeed! So that, if he suspects me without cause, it follows 
that the best way of curing his jealousy is to give him reason for it? 

Joseph:	Undoubtedly ñ for your husband should never be deceived in you; and 
in that case it becomes you to be frail in compliment to his discernment. 

Lady Teazle:	To be sure, what you say is very reasonable, and when the 
consciousness of my own innocence ñ

Joseph:	Ah, my dear madam, there is the great mistake! 'Tis this very 
conscious innocence that is of the greatest prejudice to you. What is it 
makes you negligent of forms, and careless of the world's opinion? Why, the 
consciousness of your own innocence. What makes you thoughtless in your 
conduct, and apt to run into a thousand little imprudences? Why, the 
consciousness of your own innocence. What makes you impatient of Sir 
Peter's temper, and outrageous at his suspicions? Why, the consciousness of 
your innocence.

Lady Teazle:	'Tis very true. 

Joseph:	Now, my dear Lady Teazle, if you would but once make a trifling 
faux pas, you can't conceive how cautious you would grow, and how ready to 
humour and agree with your husband. 

Lady Teazle:	Do you think so? 

Joseph:	Oh, I am sure on't; and then you would find all scandal would cease 
at once; for, in short, your character at present is like a person in a 
plethora, absolutely dying from too much health. 

Lady Teazle:	So, so; then I perceive your prescription is that I must sin 
in my own defence, and part with my virtue to secure my reputation? 

Joseph:	Exactly so, upon my credit, ma'am. 

Lady Teazle:	Well, certainly this is the oddest doctrine, and the newest 
receipt for avoiding calumny. 

Joseph:	An infallible one, believe me. Prudence, like experience, must be 
paid for. 

Lady Teazle:	Why, if my understanding were once convinced ñ

Joseph:	Oh, certainly, madam, your understanding should be convinced. Yes, 
yes ñ heaven forbid I should persuade you to do anything you thought wrong. 
No, no, I have too much honour to desire it. 

Lady Teazle:	Don't you think we may as well leave honour out of the 
argument? 

Joseph:	Ah, the ill effects of your country education, I see, shall remain 
with you. 

Lady Teazle:	I doubt they do indeed; and I will fairly own to you that if I 
could be persuaded to do wrong, it would be by Sir Peter's ill usage sooner 
than your honourable logic after all. 

Joseph:	Then, by this hand, which he is unworthy of ñ [Taking her hand.]

Enter SERVANT.
	'Sdeath, you blockhead ñ what do you want? 

Servant:	I beg your pardon, sir, but I thought you wouldn't choose Sir 
Peter to come up without announcing him.

Joseph:	Sir Peter! Oons ñ the devil! 

Lady Teazle:	Sir Peter! O lud, I'm ruined! I'm ruined! 

Servant:	Sir, 'twasn't I let him in. 

Lady Teazle:	Oh, I'm undone! What will become of me now, Mr Logic? Oh, 
mercy, he's on the stairs. I'll get behind here ñ and if ever I'm so 
imprudent again ñ

She hides behind screen.

Joseph:	Give me that book.

He sits down.
Servant pretends to adjust his hair.
Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE.

Sir Peter:	Aye, ever improving himself! Mr Surface, Mr Surface ñ [pats 
JOSEPH on the shoulder.]

Joseph:	Oh, my dear Sir Peter, I beg your pardon. [Gaping, throws away the 
book.] I have been dozing over a stupid book. Well, I am much obliged to 
you for this call. You haven't been here, I believe, since I fitted up this 
room. Books, you know, are the only things I am a coxcomb in. 

Sir Peter:	'Tis very neat indeed. Well, well, that's proper; and you make 
even your screen a source of knowledge ñ hung, I perceive, with maps. 

Joseph:	Oh, yes, I find great use in that screen. 

Sir Peter:	I daresay you must. Certainly when you want to find anything in 
a hurry. 

Joseph:	[aside] Aye, or to hide anything in a hurry either. 

Sir Peter:	Well, I have a little private business ñ

Joseph:	[to  SERVANT] You needn't stay. 
Servant:	No, sir. 

Exit. 

Joseph:	Here's a chair, Sir Peter. I beg ñ

Sir Peter:	Well, now we are alone, there is a subject, my dear friend, on 
which I wish to unburden my mind to you ñ a point of the greatest moment to 
my peace; in short, my dear friend, Lady Teazle's conduct of late has made 
me extremely unhappy. 

Joseph:	Indeed! I am very sorry to hear it. 

Sir Peter:	Aye, 'tis but too plain she has not the least regard for me; 
but, what's worse, I have pretty good authority to suppose she must have 
formed an attachment to another. 

Joseph:	Indeed! You astonish me!

Sir Peter:	Yes; and, between ourselves, I think I've discovered the person.

Joseph:	How! You alarm me exceedingly. 

Sir Peter:	Aye, my dear friend, I knew you would sympathise with me. 

Joseph:	Yes, believe me, Sir Peter, such a discovery would hurt me just as 
much as it would you. 

Sir Peter:	I am convinced of it. Ah, it is a happiness to have a friend 
whom one can trust even with one's family secrets. But have you no guess 
who I mean? 

Joseph:	I haven't the most distant idea. It can't be Sir Benjamin Backbite? 

Sir Peter:	Oh, no! What say you to Charles? 

Joseph:	My brother! Impossible! 

Sir Peter:	Ah, my dear friend, the goodness of your own heart misleads you. 
You judge of others by yourself. 

Joseph:	Certainly, Sir Peter, the heart that is conscious of its own 
integrity is ever slow to credit another's treachery. 

Sir Peter:	True, but your brother has no sentiment; you never hear him talk 
so. 

Joseph:	Yet I can't but think Lady Teazle herself has too much principle. 

Sir Peter:	Aye, but what is principle against the flattery of a handsome, 
lively young fellow? 

Joseph:	That's very true. 

Sir Peter:	And then, you know, the difference of our ages makes it very 
improbable that she should have any very great affection for me; and, if 
she were to be frail, and I were to make it public, why, the town would 
only laugh at me ñ the foolish old bachelor who had married a girl. 

Joseph:	That's true; to be sure they would laugh. 

Sir Peter:	Laugh ñ aye, and make ballads and paragraphs and the devil knows 
what of me. 

Joseph:	No, you must never make it public. 

Sir Peter:	But then again, that the nephew of my old friend, Sir Oliver, 
should be the person to attempt such a wrong hurts me more nearly.

Joseph:	Aye, there's the point. When ingratitude barbs the dart of injury, 
the wound has double danger in it. 

Sir Peter:	Aye. I that was, in a manner, left his guardian, in whose house 
he had been so often entertained ñ who never in my life denied him my 
advice! 

Joseph:	Oh, 'tis not to be credited! There may be a man capable of such 
baseness, to be sure; but, for my part, till you can give me positive 
proofs, I cannot but doubt it. However, if it should be proved on him, he 
is no longer a brother of mine; I disclaim kindred with him; for the man 
who can break the laws of hospitality, and attempt the wife of his friend 
deserves to be branded as the pest of society. 

Sir Peter:	What a difference there is between you! What noble sentiments! 

Joseph:	Yet I cannot suspect Lady Teazle's honour. 

Sir Peter:	I am sure I wish to think well of her, and to remove all ground 
of quarrel between us. She has lately reproached me more than once with 
having made no settlement on her, and in our last quarrel she almost hinted 
that she should not break her heart if I was dead. Now, as we seem to 
differ in our ideas of expense, I have resolved she shall have her own way 
and be her own mistress in that respect for the future; and if I were to 
die, she will find that I have not been inattentive to her interest while 
living. Here, my friend, are the drafts of two deeds, which I wish to have 
your opinion on. By one she will enjoy eight hundred a year independent 
while I live; and, by the other, the bulk of my fortune at my death. 

Joseph:	This conduct, Sir Peter, is indeed truly generous. [Aside] I wish 
it may not corrupt my pupil. 

Sir Peter:	Yes, I am determined she shall have no cause to complain, though 
I would not have her acquainted with the latter instance of my affection 
yet awhile. 

Joseph:	[aside] Nor I, if I could help it. 

Sir Peter:	And now, my dear friend, if you please, we will talk over the 
situation of your affairs with Maria. 

Joseph:	[softly] Oh, no, Sir Peter; another time, if you please. 

Sir Peter:	I am sensibly chagrined at the little progress you seem to make 
in her affection.

Joseph:	[softly] I beg you will not mention it. What are my disappointments 
when your happiness is in debate! [Aside] 'Sdeath, I shall be ruined every 
way. 

Sir Peter:	And though you are so averse to my acquainting Lady Teazle with 
your passion for Maria, I'm sure she's not your enemy in the affair. 

Joseph:	Pray, Sir Peter, now, oblige me: I am really too much affected by 
the subject we have been speaking of to bestow a thought on my own 
concerns. The man who is entrusted with his friend's distresses can never ñ

Enter SERVANT.

	Well, sir?

Servant:	Your brother, sir, is speaking to a gentleman in the street, and 
says he knows you are within. 

Joseph:	'Sdeath, blockhead, I'm not within! I'm out for the day. 

Sir Peter:	Stay, hold, a thought has struck me. You shall be at home. 

Joseph:	Well, well, let him up.

Exit SERVANT.

	[Aside] He'll interrupt Sir Peter, however. 

Sir Peter:	Now, my good friend, oblige me, I entreat you. Before Charles 
comes, let me conceal myself somewhere; then do you tax him on the point we 
have been talking on, and his answers may satisfy me at once. 

Joseph:	Oh, fie, Sir Peter! Would you have me join in so mean a trick ñ to 
trepan my brother too? 

Sir Peter:	Nay, you tell me you are sure he is innocent; if so, you do him 
the greatest service by giving him an opportunity to clear himself, and you 
will set my heart at rest. Come, you shall not refuse me. Here, behind this 
screen will be ñ

Goes to the screen.

	Hey! What the devil! There seems to be one listener there already. I'll 
swear I saw a petticoat. 

Joseph:	Ha, ha, ha! Well, this is ridiculous enough. I'll tell you, Sir 
Peter, though I hold a man of intrigue to be a most despicable character, 
yet, you know, it doesn't follow that one is to be an absolute Joseph 
either. Hark 'ee, 'tis a little French milliner, a silly rogue that plagues 
me; and having some character to lose, on your coming, sir, she ran behind 
the screen. 

Sir Peter:	Ah, you rogue! But, egad, she has overheard all I have been 
saying of my wife. 

Joseph:	Oh, 'twill never go any farther, you may depend upon't. 

Sir Peter:	No? Then i'faith let her hear it out. Here's a closet will do as 
well. 

Joseph:	Well, go in there. 

Sir Peter:	Sly rogue! sly rogue! 

Goes into the closet.

Joseph:	A narrow escape, indeed, and a curious situation I'm in, to part 
man and wife in this manner. 

Lady Teazle:	[peeping] Couldn't I steal off? 

Joseph:	Keep close, my angel. 

Sir Peter:	[peeping] Joseph, tax him home. 

Joseph:	Back, my dear friend. 

Lady Teazle:	[peeping] Couldn't you lock Sir Peter in? 

Joseph:	Be still, my life. 

Sir Peter:	[peeping] You're sure the little milliner won't blab? 

Joseph:	In, in, my good Sir Peter! ñ 'Fore gad, I wish I had a key to the 
door. 

Enter CHARLES SURFACE.

Charles:	Hullo, brother, what has been the matter? Your fellow would not 
let me up at first. What, have you had a Jew or a wench with you? 

Joseph:	Neither, brother, I assure you. 

Charles:	But what has made Sir Peter steal off? I thought he had been with 
you. 

Joseph:	He was, brother, but hearing you were coming, he did not choose to 
stay. 

Charles:	What! Was the old gentleman afraid I wanted to borrow money of 
him? 

Joseph:	No, sir. But I am sorry to find, Charles, you have lately given 
that worthy man grounds for great uneasiness.

Charles:	Yes, they tell me I do that to a great many worthy men. But how 
so, pray? 

Joseph:	To be plain with you, brother, he thinks you are endeavouring to 
gain Lady Teazle's affections from him. 

Charles:	Who, I? O lud, not I, upon my word. ñ Ha, ha, ha! ñ So the old 
fellow has found out that he has got a young wife, has he? Or, what is 
worse, her ladyship has found out she has an old husband? 

Joseph:	This is no subject to jest on, brother. He who can laugh ñ

Charles:	True, true, as you were going to say. Then, seriously, I never had 
the least idea of what you charge me with, upon my honour. 

Joseph:	[raising his voice] Well, it will give Sir Peter great satisfaction 
to hear this. 

Charles:	To be sure, I once thought the lady seemed to have taken a fancy 
to me; but, upon my soul, I never gave her the least encouragement. 
Besides, you know my attachment to Maria. 

Joseph:	But sure, brother, even if Lady Teazle had betrayed the fondest 
partiality for you 

Charles:	Why, look 'ee, Joseph, I hope I shall never deliberately do a 
dishonourable action; but if a pretty woman was purposely to throw herself 
in my way ñ and that pretty woman married to a man old enough to be her 
father ñ

Joseph:	Well? 

Charles:	Why, I believe I should be obliged to borrow a little of your 
morality, that's all. But brother, do you know now that you surprise me 
exceedingly by naming me with Lady Teazle; for, faith, I always understood 
you were her favourite. 

Joseph:	Oh, for shame, Charles! This retort is foolish. 

Charles:	Nay, I swear I have seen you exchange such significant glances ñ

Joseph:	Nay, nay, sir, this is no jest.

Charles:	Egad, I'm serious! Don't you remember, one day, when I called here 
ñ

Joseph:	Nay, prithee, Charles ñ

Charles:	And found you together ñ

Joseph:	Zounds, sir, I insist ñ

Charles:	And another time, when your servant ñ

Joseph:	Brother, brother, a word with you. [Aside] Gad, I must stop him. 

Charles:	Informed me, I say, that ñ

Joseph:	Hush! I beg your pardon, but Sir Peter has overheard all we have 
been saying. I knew you would clear yourself, or I should not have 
consented. 

Charles:	How, Sir Peter! Where is he? 

Joseph:	Softly. There! [Points to the closet.]

Charles:	Oh, 'fore heaven, I'll have him out. Sir Peter, come forth! 

Joseph:	No, no ñ

Charles:	I say, Sir Peter, come into court.

Pulls in SIR PETER.

	What! My old guardian! What, turn inquisitor and take evidence incog.? Oh, 
fie! Oh, fie!

Sir Peter:	Give me your hand, Charles ñ I believe I have suspected you 
wrongfully; but you mustn't be angry with Joseph. 'Twas my plan. 

Charles:	Indeed! 

Sir Peter:	But I acquit you. I promise you I don't think near so ill of you 
as I did. What I have heard has given me great satisfaction. 

Charles:	Egad, then, 'twas lucky you didn't hear any more. [Apart to 
JOSEPH] Wasn't it Joseph? 

Sir Peter:	Ah, you would have retorted on him. 

Charles:	Aye, aye, that was a joke. 

Sir Peter:	Yes, yes, I know his honour too well. 

Charles:	But you might as well have suspected him as me in this matter, for 
all that. [Apart to JOSEPH] Mightn't he, Joseph? 

Sir Peter:	Well, well, I believe you. 

Joseph:	[aside] Would they were both well out of the room! 

Sir Peter:	And in future, perhaps, we may not be such strangers. 

Enter SERVANT and whispers JOSEPH.

Servant:	Lady Sneerwell is below, and says she will come up.

Joseph:	Gentlemen, I beg pardon, ñ I must wait on you downstairs. Here's a 
person come on particular business. 

Exit SERVANT.

Charles:	Well, you can sec him in another room. Sir Peter and I have not 
met a long time, and I have something to say to him. 

Joseph:	[aside] They must not be left together. [Aloud] I'll send this man 
away and return directly. [Apart to SIR PETER] Sir Peter, not a word of the 
French milliner. 

Sir Peter:	[apart to JOSEPH] I? Not for the world.

Exit JOSEPH

	Ah, Charles, if you associated more with your brother, one might indeed 
hope for your reformation. He is a man of sentiment. Well, there is nothing 
in the world so noble as a man of sentiment. 

Charles:	Pshaw, he is too moral by half; and so apprehensive of his good 
name, as he calls it, that I suppose he would as soon let a priest into his 
house as a girl. 

Sir Peter:	No, no! Come, come, you wrong him. No, no, Joseph is no rake, 
but he is no such saint either in that respect. [Aside] I have a great mind 
to tell him ñ we should have a laugh. 

Charles:	Oh, hang him, he's a very anchorite, a young hermit. 

Sir Peter:	Hark 'ee, you must not abuse him: he may chance to hear of it 
again, I promise you. 

Charles:	Why, you won't tell him? 

Sir Peter:	No. But this way. [Aside] Egad, I'll tell him. [Aloud] Hark 'ee, 
have you a mind to have a good laugh at Joseph? 

Charles:	I should like it of all things. 

Sir Peter:	Then, i'faith, we will! [Aside] I'll be quit with him for 
discovering me. [Aloud] He had a girl with him when I called. 

Charles:	What! Joseph? You jest. 

Sir Peter:	Hush! A little French milliner. And the best of the jest is 
she's in the room now. 

Charles:	The devil she is! 

Sir Peter:	Hush! I tell you. 

Points to the screen.

Charles:	Behind the screen! 'Slife, let's unveil her. 

Sir Peter:	No, no, he's coming ñ you shan't indeed. 

Charles:	Oh, egad, we'll have a peep at the little milliner. 

Sir Peter:	Not for the world! Joseph will never forgive me. 

Charles:	I'll stand by you. 

Sir Peter:	Odds, here he is! 

CHARLES throws down the screen.
Enter Joseph.

Charles:	Lady Teazle, by all that's wonderful!

Sir Peter:	Lady Teazle, by all that's damnable! 

Charles:	Sir Peter, this is one of the smartest French milliners I ever 
saw. Egad, you seem all to have been diverting yourselves here at hide and 
seek, and I don't see who is out of the secret. Shall I beg your ladyship 
to inform me? Not a word! Brother, will you be pleased to explain this 
matter? What, is morality dumb too? Sir Peter, though I found you in the 
dark, perhaps you are not so now? All mute. Well, though I can make nothing 
of the affair, I suppose you perfectly understand one another, so I'll 
leave you to yourselves. [Going.] 	Brother, I'm sorry to find you have 
given that worthy man cause for so much uneasiness. Sir Peter, there's 
nothing in the world so noble as a man of sentiment! 

Exit CHARLES.

Joseph:	Sir Peter, notwithstanding I confess that appearances are against 
me, if you will afford me your patience, I make no doubt but I shall 
explain everything to your satisfaction. 

Sir Peter:	If you please, sir. 

Joseph:	The fact is, sir, that Lady Teazle, knowing my pretensions to your 
ward, Maria ñ I say, sir, Lady Teazle, being apprehensive of the jealousy 
of your temper ñ and knowing my friendship to the family ñ she, sir, I say 
ñ called here ñ in order that ñ I might explain these pretensions ñ but on 
your coming ñ being apprehensive ñ as I said ñ of your jealousy ñ she 
withdrew ñ and this, you may depend on it, is the whole truth of the 
matter. 

Sir Peter:	A very clear account, upon my word; and I dare swear the lady 
will vouch for every article of it. 

Lady Teazle:	For not one word of it, Sir Peter. 

Sir Peter:	How? Don't you even think it worthwhile to agree in the lie? 

Lady Teazle:	There is not one syllable of truth in what that gentleman has 
told you. 

Sir Peter:	I believe you, upon my soul, ma'am. 

Joseph:	[aside to LADY TEAZLE] 'Sdeath, madam, will you betray me? 

Lady Teazle:	Good Mr Hypocrite, by your leave, I'll speak for myself. 

Sir Peter:	Aye, let her alone, sir; you'll find she'll make out a better 
story than you, without prompting.

Lady Teazle:	Hear me, Sir Peter! I came hither on no matter relating to 
your ward, and even ignorant of this gentleman's pretensions to her. But I 
came seduced by his insidious arguments, at least to listen to his 
pretended passion, if not to sacrifice your honour to his baseness. 

Sir Peter:	Now I believe the truth is coming indeed! 

Joseph:	The woman's mad! 

Lady Teazle:	No, sir, she has recovered her senses, and your own arts have 
furnished her with the means. Sir Peter, I do not expect you to credit me, 
but the tenderness you expressed for me, when I am sure you could not think 
I was a witness to it, has penetrated so to my heart, that had I left the 
place without the shame of this discovery, my future life should have 
spoken the sincerity of my gratitude. As for that smooth-tongued hypocrite, 
who would have seduced the wife of his too credulous friend, while he 
affected honourable addresses to his ward ñ I behold him now in a light so 
truly despicable that I shall never again respect myself for having 
listened to him. 

Exit.

Joseph:	Notwithstanding all this, Sir Peter, heaven knows ñ

Sir Peter:	That you are a villain! And so I leave you to your conscience. 

Joseph:	You are too rash, Sir Peter; you shall hear me. The man who shuts 
out conviction by refusing to ñ

Exeunt, JOSEPH following and speaking.


Act 5
Scene 1: the library in Joseph Surface's house.

Enter JOSEPH SURFACE and SERVANT.

Joseph:	Mr Stanley! And why should you think I would see him? You must know 
he comes to ask something. 

Servant:	Sir, I should not have let him in, but that Mr Rowley came to the 
door with him. 

Joseph:	Pshaw, blockhead! to suppose that I should now be in a temper to 
receive visits from poor relations! ñ Well, why don't you show the fellow 
up? 

Servant:	I will, sir. Why, sir, it was not my fault that Sir Peter 
discovered my lady 

Joseph:	Go, fool!

Exit SERVANT.

	Sure, Fortune never played a man of my policy such a trick before! My 
character with Sir Peter, my hopes with Maria, destroyed in a moment! I'm 
in a rare humour to listen to other people's distresses! I shan't be able 
to bestow even a benevolent sentiment on Stanley. ñ So, here he comes, and 
Rowley with him. I must try to recover myself, and put a little charity 
into my face, however. 

Exit JOSEPH.
Enter SIR OLIVER SURFACE and ROWLEY.

Sir Oliver:	What, does he avoid us? That was he, was it not? 

Rowley:	It was, sir. But I doubt you are come a little too abruptly. His 
nerves are so weak that the sight of a poor relation may be too much for 
him. I should have gone first to break it to him. 

Sir Oliver:	Oh, plague of his nerves! Yet this is he whom Sir Peter extols 
as a man of the most benevolent way of thinking. 

Rowley:	As to his way of thinking, I cannot pretend to decide; for, to do 
him justice, he appears to have as much speculative benevolence as any 
private gentleman in the kingdom, though he is seldom so sensual as to 
indulge himself in the exercise of it. 

Sir Oliver:	Yet he has a string of charitable sentiments at his fingers' 
ends. 

Rowley:	Or, rather, at his tongue's end, Sir Oliver, for I believe there is 
no sentiment he has such faith in as that Charity begins at home. 

Sir Oliver:	And his, I presume, is of that domestic sort which never stirs 
abroad at all. 

Rowley:	I doubt you'll find it so; ñ but he's coming. I mustn't seem to 
interrupt you; and you know, immediately as you leave him, I come in to 
announce your arrival in your real character. 

Sir Oliver:	True; and afterwards you'll meet me at Sir Peter's. 

Rowley:	Without losing a moment.

Exit ROWLEY
Enter JOSEPH SURFACE.

Sir Oliver:	I don't like the complaisance of his features. 

Joseph:	Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons for keeping you a moment 
waiting. ñ Mr Stanley, I presume. 

Sir Oliver:	At your service. 

Joseph:	Sir, I beg you will do me the honour to sit down. ñ I entreat you, 
sir. 

Sir Oliver:	Dear sir, there's no occasion. [Aside] Too civil by half. 

Joseph:	I have not the pleasure of knowing you, Mr Stanley; but I am 
extremely happy to see you look so well. You were nearly related to my 
mother, I think, Mr Stanley? 

Sir Oliver:	I was, sir; so nearly that my present poverty, I fear, may do 
discredit to her wealthy children; else I should not have presumed to 
trouble you. 

Joseph:	Dear sir, there needs no apology: he that is in distress, though a 
stranger, has a right to claim kindred with the wealthy. I am sure I wish I 
was of that class and had it in my power to offer you even a small relief.

Sir Oliver:	If your uncle, Sir Oliver, were here, I should have a friend. 

Joseph:	I wish he was, sir, with all my heart. You should not want an 
advocate with him, believe me, sir. 

Sir Oliver:	I should not need one ñ my distresses would recommend me. But I 
imagined his bounty would enable you to become the agent of his charity. 

Joseph:	My dear sir, you were strangely misinformed. Sir Oliver is a worthy 
man, a very worthy man; but avarice, Mr Stanley, is the vice of age. I will 
tell you, my good sir, in confidence, what he has done for me has been a 
mere nothing; though people, I know, have thought otherwise, and, for my 
part, I never chose to contradict the report. 

Sir Oliver:	What! has he never transmitted you bullion ñ rupees ñ pagodas?

Joseph:	Oh, dear sir, nothing of the kind! No, no. A few presents now and 
then ñ china, shawls, congou tea, avadavats, and India crackers ñ little 
more, believe me. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Here's gratitude for twelve thousand pounds! Avadavats 
and India crackers! 

Joseph:	Then, my dear sir, you have heard, I doubt not, of the extravagance 
of my brother. There are very few would credit what I have done for that 
unfortunate young man. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Not I, for one! 

Joseph:	The sums I have lent him! Indeed I have been exceedingly to blame; 
it was an amiable weakness; however, I don't pretend to defend it ñ and now 
I feel it doubly culpable, since it has deprived me of the pleasure of 
serving you, Mr Stanley, as my heart dictates. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Dissembler! [Aloud] Then, sir, you can't assist me? 

Joseph:	At present, it grieves me to say, I cannot; but, whenever I have 
the ability, you may depend upon hearing from me. 

Sir Oliver:	I am extremely sorry ñ

Joseph:	Not more than I, believe me;  to pity without the power to relieve 
is still more painful than to ask and be denied. 

Sir Oliver:	Kind sir, your most obedient humble servant. 

Joseph:	You leave me deeply affected, Mr Stanley. ñ [Calls to Servant] 
William, be ready to open the door.

Sir Oliver:	Oh, dear sir, no ceremony. 

Joseph:	Your very obedient.

Sir Oliver:	Sir, your most obsequious.

Joseph:	You may depend upon hearing from me, whenever I can be of service. 

Sir Oliver:	Sweet sir, you are too good! 

Joseph:	In the meantime I wish you health and spirits. 

Sir Oliver:	Your ever grateful and perpetual humble servant. 

Joseph:	Sir, yours as sincerely. 

Sir Oliver:	[aside] Charles, you are my heir! 

Exit SIR OLIVER.

Joseph:	This is one bad effect of a good character; it invites application 
from the unfortunate, and there needs no small degree of address to gain 
the reputation of benevolence without incurring the expense. The silver ore 
of pure charity is an expensive article in the catalogue of a man's good 
qualities; whereas the sentimental French plate I use instead of it makes 
just as good a show, and pays no tax. 

Enter ROWLEY.

Rowley:	Mr Surface, your servant. I was apprehensive of interrupting you, 
though my business demands immediate attention, as this note will inform 
you. 

Joseph:	Always happy to see Mr Rowley. [Reads the letter aside] Sir Oliver 
Surface, my uncle, arrived? 

Rowley:	He is, indeed; we have just parted. ñ Quite well after a speedy 
voyage, and impatient to embrace his worthy nephew. 

Joseph:	I am astonished! ñ William, stop Mr Stanley, if he's not gone. 

Rowley:	Oh, he's out of reach, I believe. 

Joseph:	Why didn't you let me know this when you came in together? 

Rowley:	I thought you had particular business. But I must be gone to inform 
your brother, and appoint him here to meet his uncle. He will be with you 
in a quarter of an hour.

Joseph:	So he says. Well, I am strangely overjoyed at his coming. ñ [Aside] 
Never, to be sure, was anything so damned unlucky! 

Rowley:	You will be delighted to see how well he looks. 

Joseph:	Oh, I'm overjoyed to hear it. ñ [Aside] Just at this time! 

Rowley:	I'll tell him how impatiently you expect him. 

Joseph:	Do, do; pray give my best duty and affection. Indeed, I cannot 
express the sensations I feel at the thought of seeing him! 

Exit ROWLEY.

Joseph:	Certainly his coming just at this time is the cruellest piece of 
ill fortune. 

Exit.


Scene 2: a room in Sir Peter Teazle's house.

Enter MRS CANDOUR and MAID.

Maid:	Indeed, ma'am, my lady will see nobody at present. 

Mrs Candour:	Did you tell her it was her friend Mrs Candour? 

Maid:	Yes, ma'am; but she begs you will excuse her. 

Mrs Candour:	Do go again ñ I shall be glad to see her if it be only for a 
moment, for I am sure she must be in great distress. 

Exit MAID.

	Dear heart, how provoking! I'm not mistress of half the circumstances. We 
shall have the whole affair in the newspapers, with the names of the 
parties at length, before I have dropped the story at a dozen houses.

Enter SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE.
	
	Oh, dear Sir Benjamin! you have heard, I suppose ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Of Lady Teazle and Mr Surface ñ

Mrs Candour:	And Sir Peter's discovery ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, the strangest piece of business, to be sure! 

Mrs Candour:	Well, I never was so surprised in my life. I am so sorry for 
all parties, indeed.

Sir Benjamin:	Now, I don t pity Sir Peter at all: he was so extravagantly 
partial to Mr Surface. 

Mrs Candour:	Mr Surface! Why, 'twas with Charles Lady Teazle was detected. 

Sir Benjamin:	No, no, I tell you ñ Mr Surface is the gallant. 

Mrs Candour:	No such thing! Charles is the man. 'Twas Mr Surface brought 
Sir Peter on purpose to discover them. 

Sir Benjamin:	I tell you I had it from one ñ

Mrs Candour:	And I have it from one ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Who had it from one, who had it ñ

Mrs Candour:	From one immediately ñ But here comes Lady Sneerwell; perhaps 
she knows the whole affair.

Enter LADY SNEERWELL.

Lady Sneerwell:	So, my dear Mrs Candour, here's a sad affair of our friend 
Lady Teazle!

Mrs Candour:	Ay, my dear friend, who would have thought 

Lady Sneerwell:	Well, there is no trusting appearances; though indeed she 
was always too lively for me. 

Mrs Candour:	To be sure, her manners were a little too free; but then she 
was so young! 

Lady Sneerwell:	And had, indeed, some good qualities. 

Mrs Candour:	So she had, indeed. But have you heard the particulars? 

Lady Sneerwell:	No; but everybody says that Mr Surface ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Ay, there; I told you Mr Surface was the man. 

Mrs Candour:	No, no ñ indeed, the assignation was with Charles. 

Lady Sneerwell:	With Charles? You alarm me, Mrs Candour! 

Mrs Candour:	Yes, yes ñ he was the lover. Mr Surface, to do him justice, 
was only the informer. 

Sir Benjamin:	Well, I'll not dispute with you, Mrs Candour; but, be it 
which it may, I hope that Sir Peter's wound will not ñ

Mrs Candour:	Sir Peter's wound! Oh, mercy! I didn't hear a word of their 
fighting. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Nor I, not a syllable. 

Sir Benjamin:	No? What, no mention of the duel? 

Mrs Candour:	Not a word. 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, yes ñ they fought before they left the room.

Lady Sneerwell:	Pray let us hear. 

Mrs Candour:	Ay, do oblige us with the duel. 

Sir Benjamin:	"Sir", says Sir Peter, immediately after the discovery, "you 
are a most ungrateful fellow." 

Mrs Candour:	Ay, to Charles ñ

Sir Benjamin:	No, no, ñ to Mr Surface. "A most ungrateful fellow; and old 
as I am, sir", says he, "I insist on immediate satisfaction".

Mrs Candour:	Ay, that must have been to Charles; for 'tis very unlikely Mr 
Surface should fight in his own house. 

Sir Benjamin:	Gad's life, ma'am! not at all ñ "Giving me immediate 
satisfaction." On this, ma'am, Lady Teazle, seeing Sir Peter in such 
danger, ran out of the room in strong hysterics, and Charles after her, 
calling out for hartshorn and water; then, madam, they began to fight with 
swords ñ

Enter CRABTREE.

Crabtree:	With pistols, nephew ñ pistols! I have it from undoubted 
authority. 

Mrs Candour:	Oh, Mr Crabtree, then it is all true? 

Crabtree:	Too true, indeed, madam, and Sir Peter is dangerously wounded.

Sir Benjamin:	By a thrust in second quite through his left side ñ

Crabtree:	By a bullet lodged in his thorax. 

Mrs Candour:	Mercy on me! Poor Sir Peter! 

Crabtree:	Yes, madam; though Charles would have avoided the matter, if he 
could. 

Mrs Candour:	I knew Charles was the person. 

Sir Benjamin:	My uncle, I see, knows nothing of the matter. 

Crabtree:	But Sir Peter taxed him with the basest ingratitude. 

Sir Benjamin:	That I told you, you know ñ

Crabtree:	Do, nephew, let me speak! ñ and insisted on immediate ñ

Sir Benjamin:	Just as I said ñ

Crabtree:	Odds life, nephew! allow others to know something too. A pair of 
pistols lay on the bureau (for Mr Surface, it seems, had come home the 
night before late from Salthill, where he had been to see the Montem with a 
friend, who has a son at Eton), so, unluckily, the pistols were left 
charged. 

Sir Benjamin:	I heard nothing of this. 

Crabtree:	Sir Peter forced Charles to take one, and they fired, it seems, 
pretty nearly together. Charles's shot took effect, as I told you, and Sir 
Peter's missed; but, what is very extraordinary, the ball struck against a 
little bronze Shakespeare that stood over the fireplace, grazed out of the 
window at a right angle, and wounded the postman, who was just coming to 
the door with a double letter from Northamptonshire. 

Sir Benjamin:	My uncle's account is more circumstantial, I confess; but I 
believe mine is the true one, for all that. 

Lady Sneerwell:	[aside] I am more interested in this affair than they 
imagine, and must have better information. 

Exit LADY SNEERWELL.

Sir Benjamin:	Ah, Lady Sneerwell's alarm is very easily accounted for. 

Crabtree:	Yes, yes, they certainly do say ñ but that's neither here nor 
there. 

Mrs Candour:	But, pray, where is Sir Peter at present? 

Crabtree:	Oh, they brought him home, and he is now in the house, though the 
servants are ordered to deny it. 

Mrs Candour:	I believe so, and Lady Teazle, I suppose, attending him. 

Crabtree:	Yes, yes; I saw one of the faculty enter just before me. 

Sir Benjamin:	Hey! Who comes here? 

Crabtree:	Oh, this is he ñ the physician, depend on't. 

Mrs Candour:	Oh, certainly! It must be the physician; and now we shall 
know. 

Enter SIR OLIVER SURFACE.

Crabtree:	Well, doctor, what hopes? 

Mrs Candour:	Ay, doctor, how's your patient? 

Sir Benjamin:	Now, doctor, isn't it a wound with a small sword? 

Crabtree:	A bullet lodged in the thorax, for a hundred?

Sir Oliver:	Doctor! a wound with a small sword! and a bullet in the thorax? 
ñ Oons, are you mad, good people? 

Sir Benjamin:	Perhaps, sir, you are not a doctor? 

Sir Oliver:	Truly, I am to thank you for my degree, if I am. 

Crabtree:	Only a friend of Sir Peter's, then, I presume. But, sir, you must 
have heard of his accident? 

Sir Oliver:	Not a word! 

Crabtree:	Not of his being dangerously wounded? 

Sir Oliver:	The devil he is!

Sir Benjamin:	Run through the body ñ

Crabtree:	Shot in the breast ñ

Sir Benjamin:	By one Mr Surface ñ

Crabtree:	Ay, the younger. 

Sir Oliver:	Hey! What the plague! You seem to differ strangely in your 
accounts. However you agree that Sir Peter is dangerously wounded. 

Sir Benjamin:	Oh, yes, we agree in that.

Crabtree:	Yes, yes, I believe there can be no doubt in that. 

Sir Oliver:	Then, upon my word, for a person in that situation, he is the 
most imprudent man alive; for here he comes, walking as if nothing at all 
was the matter.

Enter SIR PETER TEAZLE.

	Odds heart, Sir Peter! you are come in good time, I promise you; for we 
had just given you over. 

Sir Benjamin:	Egad, uncle, this is the most sudden recovery! 

Sir Oliver:	Why, man, what do you out of bed with a small sword through 
your body, and a bullet lodged in your thorax? 

Sir Peter:	A small sword, and a bullet?

Sir Oliver:	Ay, these gentlemen would have killed you without law or 
physic, and wanted to dub me a doctor, to make me an accomplice. 

Sir Peter:	Why, what is all this? 

Sir Benjamin:	We rejoice, Sir Peter, that the story of the duel is not true 
and are sincerely sorry for your other misfortune. 

Sir Peter:	[aside] So, so; all over the town already. 

Crabtree:	Though, Sir Peter, you were certainly vastly to blame to marry at 
all at your years.

Sir Peter:	Sir, what business is that of yours? 

Mrs Candour:	Though, indeed, as Sir Peter made so good a husband, he's very 
much to be pitied. 

Sir Peter:	Plague on your pity, ma'am! I desire none of it. 

Sir Benjamin:	However, Sir Peter, you must not mind the laughing and jests 
you will meet with on occasion. 

Sir Peter:	Sir, I desire to be master in my own house. 

Crabtree:	'Tis no uncommon case, that's one comfort. 

Sir Peter:	I insist on being left to myself ñ without ceremony, I insist on 
your leaving my house directly! 

Mrs Candour:	Well, well, we are going ñ and depend on't, we'll make the 
best report of you we can. 

Sir Peter:	Leave my house!

Exit MRS CANDOUR

Crabtree:	And tell how hardly you've been treated. 

Sir Peter:	Leave my house! 

Exit CRABTREE.

Sir Benjamin:	And how patiently you bear it. 

Exit SIR BENJAMIN.

Sir Peter:	Fiends! Vipers! Furies! Oh, that their own venom would choke 
them! 

Sir Oliver:	They are very provoking indeed, Sir Peter.

Enter ROWLEY. 

Rowley:	I heard high words. What has ruffled you, Sir Peter? 

Sir Peter:	Pshaw! what signifies asking? Do I ever pass a day without my 
vexations? 

Rowley:	Well, I'm not inquisitive. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, Sir Peter, I have seen both my nephews in the manner we 
proposed. 

Sir Peter:	A precious couple they are! 

Rowley:	Yes, and Sir Oliver is convinced that your judgement was right, Sir 
Peter. 

Sir Oliver:	Yes, I find Joseph is indeed the man, after all. 

Rowley:	Ay, as Sir Peter says, he is a man of sentiment. 

Sir Oliver:	And acts up to the sentiments he professes. 

Rowley:	It certainly is edification to hear him talk. 

Sir Oliver:	Oh, he's a model for the young men of the age! But how's this, 
Sir Peter, you don't join us in your friend Joseph's praise, as I expected.

Sir Peter:	Sir Oliver, we live in a damned wicked world, and the fewer we 
praise the better. 

Rowley:	What? Do you say so, Sir Peter, who were never mistaken in your 
life? 

Sir Peter:	Pshaw! Plague on you both! I see by your sneering you have heard 
the whole affair. I shall go mad among you. 

Rowley:	Then, to fret you no longer, Sir Peter, we are indeed acquainted 
with it all. I met Lady Teazle coming from Mr Surface's so humbled that she 
deigned to request me to be her advocate with you. 

Sir Peter:	And does Sir Oliver know all this? 

Sir Oliver:	Every circumstance. 

Sir Peter:	What? Of the closet and the screen, hey? 

Sir Oliver:	Yes, yes, and the little French milliner. Oh, I have been 
vastly diverted with the story! Ha, ha, ha! 

Sir Peter:	'Twas very pleasant. 

Sir Oliver:	I never laughed more in my life, I assure you. Ha, ha, ha! 

Sir Peter:	Oh, vastly diverting. Ha, ha, ha! 

Rowley:	To be sure, Joseph with his sentiments! Ha, ha, ha! 

Sir Peter:	Yes, yes, his sentiments! ñ Ha, ha, ha! ñ Hypocritical villain! 

Sir Oliver:	Ay, and that rogue Charles to pull Sir Peter out of the closet! 
Ha, ha, ha! 

Sir Peter:	Ha, ha! 'Twas devilish entertaining, to be sure. 

Sir Oliver:	Ha, ha, ha! Egad, Sir Peter, I should like to have seen your 
face when the screen was thrown down. Ha, ha! 

Sir Peter:	Yes, yes, my face when the screen was thrown down. ñ Ha, ha, ha! 
ñ Oh, I must never show my head again. 

Sir Oliver:	But, come, come, it isn't fair to laugh at you neither, my old 
friend; though, upon my soul, I can't help it. 

Sir Peter:	Oh, pray don't restrain your mirth on my account: it does not 
hurt me at all. I laugh at the whole affair myself. Yes, yes, I think being 
a standing jest for all one's acquaintance a very happy situation. Oh, yes, 
and then of a morning to read the paragraphs about Mr Sóó, Lady Tóó, and 
Sir Póó will be so entertaining. 

Rowley:	Without affectation, Sir Peter, you may despise the ridicule of 
fools. But I see Lady Teazle going towards the next room; I am sure you 
must desire a reconciliation as earnestly as she does.

Sir Oliver:	Perhaps my being here prevents her coming to you. Well, I'll 
leave honest Rowley to mediate between you; but he must bring you all 
presently to Mr Surface's, where I am now returning, if not to reclaim a 
libertine, at least to expose hypocrisy. 

Sir Peter:	Ah, I'll be present at your discovering yourself there with all 
my heart, though 'tis a vile unlucky place for discoveries. 

Rowley:	We'll follow. 

Exit SIR OLIVER.

Sir Peter:	She is not coming here, you see, Rowley. 

Rowley:	No, but she has left the door of that room open, you perceive. See, 
she is in tears. 

Sir Peter:	Certainly a little mortification appears very becoming in a 
wife. Don't you think it will do her good to let her pine a little? 

Rowley:	Oh, this is ungenerous in you. 

Sir Peter:	Well, I know not what to think. You remember the letter I found 
of hers evidently intended for Charles? 

Rowley:	A mere forgery, Sir Peter, laid in your way on purpose. This is one 
of the points which I intend Snake shall give you conviction of. 

Sir Peter:	I wish I were once satisfied of that. ñ She looks this way. What 
a remarkably elegant turn of the head she has! Rowley, I'll go to her. 

Rowley:	Certainly. 

Sir Peter:	Though, when it is known that we are reconciled, people will 
laugh at me ten times more. 

Rowley:	Let them laugh, and retort their malice only by showing them you 
are happy in spite of it. 

Sir Peter:	I'faith, so I will! And, if I'm not mistaken, we may yet be the 
happiest couple in the country. 

Rowley:	Nay, Sir Peter, he who once lays aside suspicion ñ

Sir Peter:	Hold, Master Rowley! If you have any regard for me, never let me 
hear you utter anything like a sentiment: I have had enough of them to 
serve me the rest of my life. 

Exeunt.


Scene 3: The library in Joseph Surface's house.

Enter JOSEPH SURFACE and LADY SNEERWELL.

Lady Sneerwell:	Impossible! Will not Sir Peter immediately be reconciled to 
Charles, and, of course, no longer oppose his union with Maria? The thought 
is distraction to me. 

Joseph:	Can passion furnish a remedy? 

Lady Sneerwell:	No, nor cunning either. Oh, I was a fool, an idiot, to 
league with such a blunderer! 

Joseph:	Sure, Lady Sneerwell, I am the greatest sufferer; yet you see I 
bear the accident with calmness. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Because the disappointment doesn't reach your heart; your 
interest only attached you to Maria. Had you felt for her what I have for 
that ungrateful libertine, neither your temper nor hypocrisy could prevent 
your showing the sharpness of your vexation. 

Joseph:	But why should your reproaches fall on me for this disappointment? 

Lady Sneerwell:	Are you not the cause of it? Had you not a sufficient field 
for your roguery in imposing upon Sir Peter, and supplanting your brother, 
but you must endeavour to seduce his wife? I hate such an avarice of 
crimes; 'tis an unfair monopoly, and never prospers. 

Joseph:	Well, I admit I have been to blame. I confess I deviated from the 
direct road of wrong, but I don't think we're so totally defeated either. 

Lady Sneerwell:	No! 

Joseph:	You tell me you have made a trial of Snake since we met, and that 
you still believe him faithful to us? 

Lady Sneerwell:	I do believe so. 

Joseph:	And that he has undertaken, should it be necessary, to swear and 
prove that Charles is at this time contracted by vows and honour to your 
ladyship, which some of his former letters to you will serve to support. 

Lady Sneerwell:	This, indeed, might have assisted. 

Joseph:	Come, come; it is not too late yet.

Knocking at the door.

	But hark! This is probably my uncle, Sir Oliver: retire to that room; 
we'll consult farther when he's gone. 

Lady Sneerwell:	Well, but if he should find you out, too? 

Joseph:	Oh, I have no fear of that. Sir Peter will hold his tongue for his 
own credit's sake ñ and you may depend on't I shall soon discover Sir 
Oliver's weak side! 

Lady Sneerwell:	I have no diffidence of your abilities; only be constant to 
one roguery at a time. 

Exit LADY SNEERWELL.

Joseph:	I will, I will! So, 'tis confounded hard, after such bad fortune, 
to be baited by one's confederate in evil. Well, at all events my character 
is so much better than Charles's that I certainly ñ hey! ñ what? This is 
not Sir Oliver but old Stanley again. Plague on't that he should return to 
tease me just now! I shall have Sir Oliver come and find him here, and ñ

Enter SIR OLIVER SURFACE.

	Gad's life, Mr Stanley, why have you come back to plague me at this time? 
You must not stay now, upon my word. 

Sir Oliver:	Sir, I hear your uncle Oliver is expected here, and though he 
has been so penurious to you, I'll try what he'll do for me. 

Joseph:	Sir, 'tis impossible for you to stay now, so I must beg ñ come any 
other time, and I promise you, you shall be assisted. 

Sir Oliver:	No: Sir Oliver and I must be acquainted. 

Joseph:	Zounds, sir! Then I insist on your quitting the room directly. 

Sir Oliver:	Nay, sir ñ

Joseph:	Sir, I insist on't. ñ  [Going to push him out.] Here, William! show 
this gentleman out. ñ Since you compel me, sir, not one moment ñ this is 
such insolence.

Enter CHARLES SURFACE.

Charles:	Hey day! what's the matter now? What the devil have you got hold 
of my little broker here? Zounds, brother, don't hurt little Premium. 
What's the matter, my little fellow?

Joseph:	So! he has been with you too, has he? 

Charles:	To be sure he has. Why, he's as honest a little ñ but sure, 
Joseph, you have not been borrowing money too, have you? 

Joseph:	Borrowing? No! But, brother, you know we expect Sir Oliver here 
every ñ

Charles:	O Gad, that's true! Noll mustn't find the little broker here, to 
be sure.

Joseph:	Yet, Mr Stanley insists ñ

Charles:	Stanley! Why his name's Premium. 

Joseph:	No, no, Stanley. 

Charles:	No, no, Premium.

Joseph:	Well, no matter which, but ñ

Charles:	Ay, ay, Stanley or Premium, 'tis the same thing, as you say; for I 
suppose he goes by half a hundred names, besides A.B. at the coffee-houses.

Knocking.

Joseph:	'Sdeath! here's Sir Oliver at the door. Now I beg, Mr Stanley ñ

Charles:	Ay, ay, and I beg, Mr Premium ñ

Sir Oliver:	Gentlemen ñ

Joseph:	Sir, by heaven you shall go!

Charles:	Aye, out with him, certainly.

Sir Oliver:	This violence ñ

Joseph:	Sir, 'tis your own fault. 

Charles:	Out with him, to be sure.

Both forcing SIR OLIVER out.
Enter SIR PETER and LADY TEAZLE, MARIA, and ROWLEY.

Sir Peter:	My old friend, Sir Oliver ñ Hey! what in the name of wonder? ñ 
here are dutiful nephews ñ assault their uncle at a first visit. 

Lady Teazle:	Indeed, Sir Oliver, 'twas well we came in to rescue you. 

Rowley:	Truly it was; for I perceive, Sir Oliver, the character of old 
Stanley was no protection to you. 

Sir Oliver:	Nor of Premium either. The necessities of the former could not 
extort a shilling from that benevolent gentleman; and with the other I 
stood a chance of faring worse than my ancestors, and being knocked down 
without being bid for.

After a pause, JOSEPH and CHARLES turning to each other.

Joseph:	Charles! 

Charles:	Joseph! 

Joseph:	'Tis now complete. 

Charles:	Very! 

Sir Oliver:	Sir Peter, my friend, and Rowley, too, look on that elder 
nephew of mine. You know what he has already received from my bounty; and 
you also know how gladly I would have regarded half my fortune as held in 
trust for him. Judge then my disappointment in discovering him to be 
destitute of truth, charity, and gratitude!

Sir Peter:	Sir Oliver, I should be more surprised at this declaration if I 
had not myself found him to be mean, treacherous, and hypocritical. 

Lady Teazle:	And if the gentleman pleads not guilty to these, pray let him 
call me to his character. 

Sir Peter:	Then, I believe, we need add no more: if he knows himself, he 
will consider it as the most perfect punishment that he is known to the 
world. 

Charles:	[aside] If they talk this way to honesty, what will they say to me 
by and by?

SIR PETER, LADY TEAZLE and MARIA retire.

Sir Oliver:	As for that prodigal, his brother there ñ

Charles:	[aside] Aye, now comes my turn: the damned family pictures will 
ruin me. 

Joseph:	Sir Oliver ñ uncle, will you honour me with a hearing? 

Charles:	[aside] Now, if Joseph would make one of his long speeches, I 
might recollect myself a little. 

Sir Oliver:	[to JOSEPH] I suppose you would undertake to justify yourself? 

Joseph:	I trust I could. 

Sir Oliver:	[to CHARLES] Well, sir, and you could justify yourself too, I 
suppose? 

Charles:	Not that I know of, Sir Oliver. 

Sir Oliver:	What? Little Premium has been let too much into the secret, I 
suppose? 

Charles:	True, sir; but they were family secrets and should not be 
mentioned again, you know.

Rowley:	Come, Sir Oliver, I know you cannot speak of Charles's follies with 
anger. 

Sir Oliver:	Odd's heart, no more I can! ñ nor with gravity either. Sir 
Peter, do you know the rogue bargained with me for all his ancestors; sold 
me judges and generals by the foot, and maiden aunts as cheap as broken 
china? 

Charles:	To be sure, Sir Oliver, I did make a little free with the family 
canvas, that's the truth on't. My ancestors may rise in judgement against 
me, there's no denying it; but believe me sincere when I tell you ñ and 
upon my soul I would not say it if I was not ñ that if I do not appear 
mortified at the exposure of my follies, it is because I feel at this 
moment the warmest satisfaction in seeing you, my liberal benefactor. 

Sir Oliver:	Charles, I believe you. Give me your hand again: the ill-
looking little fellow over the settee has made your peace. 

Charles:	Then, sir, my gratitude to the original is still increased. 

Lady Teazle:	[advancing] Yet, I believe, Sir Oliver, here is one whom 
Charles is still more anxious to be reconciled to ñ [pointing to Maria].

Sir Oliver:	Oh, I have heard of his attachment there; and, with the young 
lady's pardon, if I construe right that blush ñ

Sir Peter:	Well, child, speak your sentiments! 

Maria:	Sir, I have little to say, but that I shall rejoice to hear that he 
is happy. For me, whatever claim I had to his affection, I willingly resign 
to one who has a better title. 

Charles:	How, Maria! 

Sir Peter:	Hey day! what's the mystery now? While he appeared an 
incorrigible rake, you would give your hand to no one else; and now that he 
is likely to reform, I warrant you won't have him. 

Maria:	His own heart and Lady Sneerwell know the cause. 

Charles:	Lady Sneerwell! 

Joseph:	Brother, it is with great concern I am obliged to speak on this 
point, but my regard to justice compels me, and Lady Sneerwell's injuries 
can no longer be concealed.

Opens the door.
Enter LADY SNEERWELL.

Sir Peter:	So, another French milliner! Egad, he has one in every room in 
the house, I suppose.

Lady Sneerwell:	Ungrateful Charles! Well may you be surprised, and feel for 
the indelicate situation which your perfidy has forced me into. 

Charles:	Pray, Uncle, is this another plot of yours? For, as I have life, I 
don't understand it. 

Joseph:	I believe, sir, there is but the evidence of one person more 
necessary to make it extremely clear. 

Sir Peter:	And that person, I imagine, is Mr Snake. Rowley, you were 
perfectly right to bring him with us, and pray let him appear. 

Rowley:	Walk in, Mr Snake.

Enter SNAKE.

	I thought his testimony might be wanted; however, it happens unluckily, 
that he comes to confront Lady Sneerwell, not to support her. 

Lady Sneerwell:	[aside] Villain! Treacherous to me at last! ñ [Aloud] 
Speak, fellow, have you too conspired against me? 

Snake:	I beg your ladyship ten thousand pardons. You paid me extremely 
liberally for the lie in question; but I unfortunately have been offered 
double to speak the truth. 

Lady Sneerwell:	The torments of shame and disappointment on you all! 

Lady Teazle:	Hold, Lady Sneerwell. Before you go, let me thank you for the 
trouble you and that gentleman have taken in writing letters from me to 
Charles, and answering them yourself! And let me also request you to make 
my respects to the scandalous college of which you are president, and 
inform them, that Lady Teazle, licentiate, begs leave to return the diploma 
they granted her, as she leaves off practice, and kills characters no 
longer. 

Lady Sneerwell:	You too, madam! ñ Provoking insolent! May your husband live 
these fifty years.

Exit LADY SNEERWELL.

Sir Peter:	Oons! what a fury! 

Lady Teazle:	A malicious creature, indeed! 

Sir Peter:	What! Not for her last wish? 

Lady Teazle:	Oh, no! 

Sir Oliver:	Well, sir, and what have you to say now?

Joseph:	Sir, I am so confounded to find that Lady Sneerwell could be guilty 
of suborning Mr Snake in this manner, to impose on us all, that I know not 
what to say. However, lest her revengeful spirit should prompt her to 
injure my brother, I had certainly better follow her directly.

Exit.

Sir Peter:	Moral to the last drop! 

Sir Oliver:	Ay, and marry her, Joseph, if you can. Oil and vinegar, egad! 
You'll do very well together. 

Rowley:	I believe we have no more occasion for Mr Snake at present. 

Snake:	Before I go, I beg your pardon once for all, for whatever uneasiness 
I have been the humble instrument of causing to the parties present. 

Sir Peter:	Well, well, you have made atonement by a good deed at last. 

Snake:	But I must request of the company that it shall never be known.

Sir Peter:	Hey! What the plague! Are you ashamed of having done a right 
thing once in your life? 

Snake:	Ah, sir, consider ñ I live by the badness of my character. I have 
nothing but my infamy to depend on, and, if it were once known that I had 
been betrayed into an honest action, I should lose every friend I have in 
the world. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, well, we'll not traduce you by saying anything in your 
praise, never fear.

Exit SNAKE.

Sir Peter:	There's a precious rogue! 

Lady Teazle:	See, Sir Oliver, there needs no persuasion now to reconcile 
your nephew and Maria.

CHARLES and MARIA apart.

Sir Oliver:	Ay, ay, that's as it should be, and, egad, we'll have the 
wedding tomorrow morning. 

Charles:	Thank you, dear Uncle. 

Sir Peter:	What, you rogue, don't you ask the girl's consent first? 

Charles:	Oh, I have done that a long time ñ above a minute ago and she has 
looked yes.

Maria:	For shame, Charles! I protest, Sir Peter, there has not been a word. 

Sir Oliver:	Well, then, the fewer the better: may your love for each other 
never know abatement! 

Sir Peter:	And may you live as happily together as Lady Teazle and I intend 
to do! 

Charles:	Rowley, my old friend, I am sure you congratulate me; and I 
suspect that I owe you much. 

Sir Oliver:	You do, indeed, Charles. 

Rowley:	If my efforts to serve you had not succeeded, you would have been 
in my debt for the attempt ñ but deserve to be happy, and you overpay me. 

Sir Peter:	Ay, honest Rowley always said you would reform. 

Charles:	Why, as to reforming, Sir Peter, I'll make no promises, and that I 
take to be a proof that I intend to set about it. But here shall be my 
monitor, my gentle guide. ñ Ah, can I leave the virtuous path those eyes 
illumine? 

	Though thou, dear maid, shouldst waive thy beauty's sway,
	Thou still must rule, because I will obey.
	An humbled fugitive from folly view,
	No sanctuary near but love and you. 

To the audience.

	You can, indeed, each anxious fear remove,
	For even Scandal dies, if you approve!



EPILOGUE

By Mr Colman

Spoken by LADY TEAZLE

I, who was late so volatile and gay,
Like a trade-wind must now blow all one way,
Bend all my cares, my studies, and my vows,
To one dull rusty weathercock ñ my spouse!
So wills our virtuous bard ñ the motley Bayes ñ
Of crying epilogues and laughing plays.
Old bachelors, who marry smart young wives,
Learn from our play to regulate your lives:
Each bring his dear to town, all faults upon her ñ
London will prove the very source of honour.
Plunged fairly in, like a cold bath it serves,
When principles relax, to brace the nerves.
Such is my case; and yet I must deplore
That the gay dream of dissipation's o'er.
And say, ye fair, was ever lively wife,
Born with a genius for the highest life,
Like me untimely blasted in her bloom,
Like me condemned to such a dismal doom?
Save money, when I just knew how to waste it!
Leave London ñ just as I began to taste it!
Must I then watch the early-crowing cock,
The melancholy ticking of a clock:
In a lone rustic hall forever pounded,
With dogs, cats, rats, and squalling brats surrounded?
With humble curate can I now retire
(While good Sir Peter boozes with the squire),
And at backgammon mortify my soul,
That pants for loo, or flutters at a vole?
'Seven's the main! ñ dear sound that must expire,
Lost at hot cockles round a Christmas fire:
The transient hour of fashion too soon spent,
Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content!
Farewell the plumed head, the cushioned tÍte,
That takes the cushion from its proper seat!
That spirit-stirring drum! ñ card drums, I mean,
Spadille, odd trick, pam, basto, king and queen! ñ
And you, ye knockers that with brazen throat
The welcome visitors' approach denote!
Farewell all quality of high renown,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious town!
Farewell! your revels I partake no more,
And Lady Teazle's occupation's o'er!
All this I told our bard; he smiled and, said 'twas clear,
I ought to play deep tragedy next year.
Meanwhile he drew wise morals from his play,
And in these solemn periods stalked away:
"Blessed were the fair like you; her faults who stopped,
And closed her follies when the curtain dropped!
No more in vice or error to engage,
Or play the fool at large on life's great stage."