Imatges de pÓgina



OLD MIRABEL.-First dress: Antiquated claret-coloured suit embroidered with silver-silk stockings-shoes and buckles. dress: Spanish silk suit, with mustachios, sword, &c.

MIRABEL.-First dress: Full dress of a young French gentleman of fashion-a sword. Second dress: A friar's habit.

DURUTETE.-French military uniform-sword.

DUGARD.-Nearly the same as Mirabel, with sword, &c. BRAVOES.-Cocked hats-coarse gray coats-red waistcoatsdark breeches-clumsy boots-each armed with a sword.

BISARRE.-White satin dress, with a profusion of gay trimming. ORIANA.-First dress: White muslin, with pink trimming. Second dress: A nun's habit. Third dress: A boy's suit. LAMORCE.-Habited as a French courtesan.

Cast of the Characters,

As Performed at the Theatres Royal, London.

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SCENE I.-The Street.

Enter DUGARD and his man PETIT, in Ridinghabits, L.

Dug. (c.) Sirrah, what's the clock !

Pet. (L. C.) Turned of eleven, sir.

Dug. No more! We have rid a swinging pace from Nemours since two this morning! Petit, run to Rousseau's, and bespeak a dinner at a louis-d'or a head, to be ready by one.

Pet. How many will there be of you, sir?

Dug. Let me see; Mirabel one, Duretête two, myself three

Pet. And I four.

Dug. How now, sir! at your old travelling familiarity! When abroad, you had some freedom for want of better company; but, among my friends at Paris, pray remember your distance. Be gone, sir. [Eait PETIT, R.] This fellow's wit was necessary abroad, but he's too cunning for a domestic: I must dispose of him some way else. (R.) Who's here? Old Mirabel and my sister my dearest sister!


Ori. (c.) My brother! Welcome.

Dug. Monsieur Mirabel! I'm heartily glad to see


O. Mir. (L.) Honest Mr. Dugard, by the blood of the Mirabels, I'm your most humble servant.

Dug. Why, sir, you've cast your skin sure, you're brisk and gay, lusty health about you, no sign of age but your silver hairs.

O. Mir. Silver hairs! Then they are quicksilver hairs, sir. Whilst I have golden pockets, let my hairs be silver an they will. Adsbud, sir, I can dance, and sing, and drink, and-no, I can't wench. But, Mr. Dugard, no news of my son Bob in all your travels? Dug. Your son's come home, sir.

O. Mir. Come home! Bob come home! By the blood of the Mirabels, Mr. Dugard, what say ye? Ori. Mr. Mirabel returned, sir?

Dug. (R.) He's certainly come, and you may see him within this hour or two.

O. Mir. Swear it, Mr. Dugard, presently swear it. Dug. Sir, he came to town with me this morning; I left him at the Bagnieurs, being a little disordered after riding, and I shall see him again presently.

0. Mir. (R. c.) What! and he was ashamed to ask a blessing with his boots on. A nice dog! Well, and how fares the young rogue, ha?

Dug. A fine gentleman, sir. He'll be his own messenger.

O. Mir. A fine gentleman! But is the rogue like me still?

Dug. Why yes, sir; he's very like his mother, and as like you as most modern sons are to their fathers.

O. Mir. Why, sir, don't you think that I begat him? Dug. Why yes, sir; you married his mother, and he inherits your estate. He's very like you, upon my word.

Ori. And pray, brother, what's become of his honest companion, Duretête?

Dug. Who, the captain? The very same he went abroad; he's the only Frenchman I ever knew that could not change. Your son, Mr. Mirabel, is more obliged to nature for that fellow's composition than for his own for he's more happy in Duretête's folly than his own wit. In short, they are as inseparable as finger and thumb; but the first instance in the world, I believe, of opposition in friendship.

O. Mir. Very well; will he be home to dinner, think ye?

Dug. Sir, he has ordered me to bespeak a dinner for us at Rousseau's, at a louis-d'or a head.

O. Mir. A louis-d'or a head! Well said, Bob; by the blood of the Mirabels, Bob's improved. But, Mr. Dugard, was it so civil of Bob to visit Monsieur Rous

seau before his own natural father, eh? Hark ye, Oriana, what think you now of a fellow that can eat and drink ye a whole louis-d'or at a sitting? He must be as strong as Hercules, life and spirit in abundance. Before Gad, I don't wonder at these men of quality, that their own wives can't serve 'em. A louis-d'or a head! 'tis enough to stock the whole nation with bastards, 'tis, faith. Mr. Dugard, I leave you with your sister. [Exit, L.

Dug. (R. C.) Well, sister, I need not ask you how you do, your looks resolve me; fair, tall, well-shaped; you're almost grown out of my remembrance.

Ori. (c.) Why truly, brother, I look pretty well, thank nature and my toilet; I eat three meals a day, am very merry when up, and sleep soundly when I'm down.

Dug. But, sister, you remember that, upon my going abroad you would choose this old gentleman for your guardian; he's no more related to our family than Prester John, and I have no reason to think you mistrusted my management of your fortune: therefore, pray be so kind as to tell me without reservation the true cause of making such a choice.

Ori. Lookye, brother, you were going a rambling, and 'twas proper, lest I should go a rambling too, that somebody should take care of me. Old Monsieur Mirabel is an honest gentleman, was our father's friend, and has a young lady in this house whose company I like, and who has chosen him for her guardian as well as I.

Dug. Who, Mademoiselle Bisarre?

Ori. The same; we live merrily together, without scandal or reproach; we make much of the old gentleman between us, and he takes care of us; we eat what we like, go to bed when we please, rise when we will, all the week we dance and sing, and upon Sundays go first to church, and then to the play.-Now, brother, besides these motives for choosing this gentleman for my guardian, perhaps I had some private reasons.

Dug. Not so private as you imagine, sister; your love to young Mirabel is no secret, I can assure you; but so public that all your friends are ashamed on't.

Ori. O'my word then, my friends are very bashful; though I'm afraid, sir, that those people are not ashamed

enough at their own crimes, who have so many blushes to spare for the faults of their neighbours.

Dug. Ay but, sister, the people say

Ori. Pshaw, hang the people; their court of inquiry is a tavern, and their informer claret: they think as they drink, and swallow reputations like loches: a lady's health goes briskly round with the glass, but her honour is lost in the toast.

Dug. Ay; but, sister, there is still something

Ori. If there be something, brother, 'tis none of the people's something; marriage is my thing, and I'll stick to't.

Dug. Marriage! Young Mirabel marry! He'll build churches sooner. Take heed, sister; though your honour stood proof to his home-bred assaults, you must keep a stricter guard for the future: he has now got the foreign air, and the Italian softness; his wit's improved by converse, his behaviour finished by observation, and his assurances confirmed by success. Sister, I can assure you he has made his conquests; and 'tis a plague upon your sex, to be the soonest deceived by those very men that you know have been false to others.

Ori. For heaven's sake, brother, tell me no more of his faults; for if you do I shall run mad for him say no more, sir; let me but get him into the bands of matrimony, I'll spoil his wandering, I warrant him; I'll do his business that way, never fear.

Dug. Well, sister, I won't pretend to understand the engagements between you and your lover; I expect, when you have need of my counsel or assistance, you will let me know more of your affairs. Mirabel is a gentleman, and, as far as my honour and interest can reach, you may command me to the furtherance of your happiness in the mean time, sister, I have a great mind to make you a present of another humble servant; a fellow that I took up at Lyons, who has served me honestly ever since.

Ori. Then why will you part with him?

Dug. He has gained so insufferably on my good humour, that he's grown too familiar; but the fellow's cunning, and may be serviceable to you in your affair with Mirabel. Here he comes.

Enter PETIT, R.

Well, sir, have you been at Rousseau's?

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