The Man Of The World (1792) by Charles Macklin

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_Eger_. Your pleasure, sir.

_Sir Per_. About twa hours since I told you, Charles, that I received this
letter express, complaining of your brother's activity at an election in
Scotland against a particular friend of mine, which has given great
offence; and, sir, you are mentioned in the letter as weel as he: to be
plain, I must roundly tell you, that on this interview depends my
happiness as a father and as a man; and my affection to you, sir, as a son
for the remainder of our days.

_Eger_. I hope, sir, I shall never do any thing either to forfeit your
affection, or disturb your happiness.

_Sir Per_. I hope so too--but to the point.--The fact is this: there has
been a motion made this vary day to bring on the grand affair--which is
settled for Friday seven-night:--now, sir, as you are popular--have
talents, and are weel heard, it is expected, and I insist upon it, that
you endeavour to atone, sir, for your late misconduct, by preparing, and
taking a large share in that question, and supporting it with aw your
power.

_Eger_, Sir, I have always divided as you directed, except on one
occasion; never voted against your friends, only in that affair.--But,
sir, I hope you will not so exert your influence as to insist upon my
supporting a measure by an obvious, prostituted sophistry, in direct
opposition to my character and my conscience.

_Sir Per_. Conscience! why, you are mad! did you ever hear any man talk of
conscience in political matters? Conscience, quotha? I have been in
Parliament these three and thraty years, and never heard the term made use
of before:--sir, it is an unparliamentary word, and you will be laughed at
for it;--therefore I desire you will not offer to impose upon me with sic
phantoms, but let me know your reason for thus slighting my friends and
disobeying my commands.--Sir, give me an immediate and an explicit answer.

_Eger_. Then, sir, I must frankly tell you, that you work against my
nature; you would connect me with men I despise, and press me into
measures I abhor; would make me a devoted slave to selfish leaders, who
have no friendship but in faction--no merit but in corruption--nor
interest in any measure, but their own;--and to such men I cannot submit;
for know, sir, that the malignant ferment which the venal ambition of the
times provokes in the heads and hearts of other men, I detest.

_Sir Per_. What are you about, sir? malignant ferment! and venal ambition!
Sir, every man should be ambitious to serve his country--and every man
should be rewarded for it: and pray, sir, would nai you wish to serve your
country? Answer me that.--I say, would nai you wish to serve your country?

_Eger_. Only shew me how I can serve my country, and my life is hers.
Were I qualified to lead her armies, to steer her fleets, and deal her
honest vengeance on her insulting foes;--or could my eloquence pull down a
state leviathan, mighty by the plunder of his country--black with the
treasons of her disgrace, and send his infamy down to a free posterity, as
a monumental terror to corrupt ambition, I would be foremost in such
service, and act it with the unremitting ardour of a Roman spirit.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel, sir! vary weel! the fellow is beside himself!

_Eger_. But to be a common barker at envied power--to beat the drum of
faction, and sound the trumpet of insidious patriotism, only to displace a
rival,--or to be a servile voter in proud corruption's filthy train,--to
market out my voice, my reason, and my trust, to the party-broker, who
best can promise, or pay for prostitution; these, sir, are services my
nature abhors,--for they are such a malady to every kind of virtue, as
must in time destroy the fairest constitution that ever wisdom framed,
or virtuous liberty fought for.

_Sir Per_. Why, are you mad, sir? you have certainly been bit by some mad
whig or other: but now, sir, after aw this foul-mouthed frenzy, and
patriotic vulgar intemperance, suppose we were to ask you a plain question
or twa: Pray, what single instance can you, or any man, give of the
political vice or corruption of these days, that has nai been practised in
the greatest states, and in the most virtuous times? I challenge you to
give me a single instance.

_Eger_. Your pardon, sir--it is a subject I wish to decline: you know,
sir, we never can agree about it.

_Sir Per_. Sir, I insist upon an answer.

_Eger_. I beg you will excuse me, sir.

_Sir Per_. I will not excuse you, sir. I insist.

_Eger_. Then, sir, in obedience, and with your patience, I will answer
your question.

_Sir Per_. Ay! ay! I will be patient, never fear: come, let us have it,
let us have it.

_Eger_. You shall; and now, sir, let prejudice, the rage of party, and
the habitual insolence of successful vice--pause but for one moment,--and
let religion, laws, power herself, the policy of a nation's virtue, and
Britain's guardian genius, take a short, impartial retrospect but of one
transaction, notorious in this land,--then must they behold yeomen,
freemen, citizens, artizans, divines, courtiers, patriots, merchants,
soldiers, sailors, and the whole plebeian tribe, in septennial procession,
urged and seduced by the contending great ones of the land to the altar
of perjury,--with the bribe in one hand, and the evangelist in the
other,--impiously, and audaciously affront the Majesty of Heaven, by
calling him to witness that they have not received, nor ever will receive,
reward or consideration for his suffrage.--Is not this a fact, sir? Can it
be denied? Can it be believed by those who know not Britain? Or can it be
matched in the records of human policy?--Who then, sir, that reflects one
moment, as a Briton or a Christian, on this picture, would be conducive to
a people's infamy and a nation's ruin?

_Sir Per_. Sir, I have heard your rhapsody with a great deal of patience!
and great astonishment,--and you are certainly beside yourself. What the
devil business have you to trouble your head about the sins or the Souls
of other men? You should leave these matters till the clergy, wha are paid
for looking after them; and let every man gang till the devil his ain way:
besides, it is nai decent to find fault with what is winked at by the
whole nation--nay, and practised by aw parties.

_Eger_. That, sir, is the very shame, the ruin I complain of.

_Sir Per_. Oh! you are vary young, vary young in these matters, but
experience will convince you, sir, that every man in public business has
twa consciences,--a religious, and a political conscience. Why, you see a
merchant now, or a shop-keeper, that kens the science of the world, always
looks upon an oath at a custom-house, or behind a counter, only as an oath
in business, a thing of course, a mere thing of course, that has nothing
to do with religion;--and just so it is at an election:--for instance
now--I am a candidate, pray observe, and I gang till a periwig-maker,
a hatter, or a hosier, and I give ten, twenty, or thraty guineas for a
periwig, a hat, or a pair of hose; and so on, thro' a majority of
voters;--vary weel;--what is the consequence? Why, this commercial
intercourse, you see, begets a friendship betwixt us, a commercial
friendship--and, in a day or twa these men gang and give me their
suffrages; weel! what is the inference? Pray, sir, can you, or any lawyer,
divine, or casuist, cawl this a bribe? Nai, sir, in fair political
reasoning, it is ainly generosity on the one side, and gratitude on the
other. So, sir, let me have nai mair of your religious or philosophical
refinements, but prepare, attend, and speak till the question, or you are
nai son of mine. Sir, I insist upon it.

_Enter_ SAM.

_Sam_. Sir, my lord says the writings are now ready, and his lordship and
the lawyers are waiting for you and Mr. Egerton.

_Sir Per_. Vary weel: we'll attend his lordship. [_Exit_ Sam.] I tell you,
Charles, aw this conscientious refinement in politics is downright
ignorance, and impracticable romance; and, sir, I desire I may hear no
more of it. Come, sir, let us gang down and finish this business.

_Eger_. [_Stopping Sir_ Per. _as he is going off,_] Sir, with your
permission, I beg you will first hear a word or two upon this subject.

_Sir Per_. Weel, sir, what would you say?

_Eger_. I have often resolved to let you know my aversion to this match.--

_Sir Per_. How, sir!

_Eger_. But my respect, and fear of disobliging you, have hitherto kept me
silent--

_Sir Per_. Your aversion! your aversion, sir! how dare you use sic
language till me? Your aversion! Look you, sir, I shall cut the matter
vary short:--consider, my fortune is nai inheritance; aw mine ain
acquisition: I can make ducks and drakes of it; so do not provoke me,
but sign the articles directly.

_Eger_. I beg your pardon, sir, but I must be free on this occasion,
and tell you at once, that I can no longer dissemble the honest passion
that fills my heart for another woman.

_Sir Per_. How! another woman! and, you villain, how dare you love another
woman without my leave? But what other woman--wha is she? Speak, sir,
speak.

_Eger_. Constantia.

_Sir Per_. Constantia! oh, you profligate! what! a creature taken in for
charity!

_Eger_. Her poverty is not her crime, sir, but her misfortune: her birth
is equal to the noblest; and virtue, tho' covered with a village garb, is
virtue still; and of more worth to me than all the splendor of ermined
pride or redundant wealth. Therefore, sir--

_Sir Per_. Haud your jabbering, you villain, haud your jabbering; none
of your romance or refinement till me. I have but one question to ask
you--but one question--and then I have done with you for ever, for ever;
therefore think before you answer:--Will you marry the lady, or will you
break my heart?

_Eger_. Sir, my presence shall not offend you any longer: but when reason
and reflection take their turn, I am sure you will not be pleased with
yourself for this unpaternal passion. [_Going._

_Sir Per_. Tarry, I command you; and, I command you likewise not to stir
till you have given me an answer, a definitive answer: Will you marry the
lady, or will you not?

_Eger_. Since you command me, sir, know then, that I can not, will not
marry her. [_Exit._

_Sir Per_. Oh! the villain has shot me thro' the head! he has cut my
vitals! I shall run distracted;--the fellow destroys aw my measures--aw my
schemes:--there never was sic a bargain as I have made with this foolish
lord,--possession of his whole estate, with three boroughs upon it--six
members--Why, what an acquisition! what consequence! what dignity! what
weight till the house of Macsycophant! O! damn the fellow! three boroughs,
only for sending down six broomsticks.--O! miserable! miserable! ruined!
undone! For these five and twanty years, ever since this fellow came
intill the world, have I been secretly preparing him for ministerial
dignity,--and with the fellow's eloquence, abilities, popularity, these
boroughs, and proper connections, he might certainly, in a little time,
have done the deed; and sure never were times so favorable, every thing
conspires, for aw the auld political post-horses are broken-winded and
foundered, and cannot get on; and as till the rising generation, the
vanity of surpassing one another in what they foolishly call taste and
elegance, binds them hand and foot in the chains of luxury, which will
always set them up till the best bidder; so that if they can but get
wherewithal to supply their dissipation, a minister may convert the
political morals of aw sic voluptuaries intill a vote that would sell the
nation till Prester John, and their boasted liberties till the great
Mogul;--and this opportunity I shall lose by my son's marrying a vartuous
beggar for love:--O! confound her vartue! it will drive me distracted.
[_Exit._

END OF THE FOURTH ACT.

_ACT V. SCENE I_.

_Enter Sir_ PERTINAX, _and_ BETTY HINT.

_Sir Per_. Come this way, Betty--come this way:--you are a guid girl, and
I will reward you for this discovery.--O the villain! offer her marriage!

_Bet_. It is true, indeed, sir;--I wou'd not tell your honour a lie for
the world: but in troth it lay upon my conscience, and I thought it my
duty to tell your worship.

_Sir Per_. You are right--you are right;--it was your duty to tell me, and
I'll reward you for it. But you say Maister Sidney is in love with her
too.--Pray how came you by that intelligence?

_Bet_. O! sir, I know when folks are in love, let them strive to hide it
as much as they will.--I know it by Mr. Sidney's eyes, when I see him
stealing a sly side-look at her,--by his trembling,--his breathing
short,--his sighing when they are reading together. Besides, sir, he has
made love-verses upon her in praise of her virtue, and her playing upon
the music.--Ay! and I suspect: another thing, sir,--she has a sweetheart,
if not a husband, not far from hence.

_Sir Per_. Wha? Constantia?

_Bet_. Ay, Constantia, sir.--Lord! I can know the whole affair, sir,
only for sending over to Hadley, to farmer Hilford's youngest daughter,
Sukey Hilford.

_Sir Per_. Then send this instant and get me a particular account of it.

_Bet_. That I will, sir.

_Sir Per_. In the mean time, keep a strict watch upon Constantia,--and
be sure you bring me word of whatever new matter you can pick up about
her, my son, or this Hadley husband or sweetheart.

_Bet_. Never fear, sir. [_Exit._

_Sir Per_. This love of Sidney's for Constantia is not unlikely.--There
is something promising in it.--Yes! I think it is nai impossible to
convert it intill a special and immediate advantage. It is but trying.
Wha's there?--If it misses, I am but where I was. [_Enter_ Tomlins.] Where
is Maister Sidney?

_Tom_. In the dining room, Sir Pertinax.

_Sir Per_. Tell him I wou'd speak with him. [_Exit_ Tomlins.] 'Tis more
than probable.--Spare to speak and spare to speed. Try--try--always try
the human heart:--try is as guid a maxim in politics as in war.--Why,
suppose this Sidney now shou'd be privy till his friend Charles's love for
Constantia.--What then? guid traith, it is natural to think that his ain
love will demand the preference,--ay, and obtain it too.--Yes, self--self
is an eloquent advocate on these occasions, and seldom loses his cause. I
have the general principle of human nature at least to encourage me in the
experiment;--for only make it a man's interest to be a rascal, and I think
we may safely depend upon his integrity--in serving himself.

_Enter_ SIDNEY.

_Sid_. Sir Pertinax, your servant.--Mr. Tomlins told me you desired to
speak with me.

_Sir Per_. Yes, I wanted to speak with you upon a vary singular business.
Maister Sidney, give me your hand.--Guin it did nai look like flattery,
which I detest, I wou'd tell you, Maister Sidney, that you are an honour
till your cloth, your country, and till human nature.

_Sid_. Sir, you are very obliging.

_Sir Per_. Sit you down, Maister Sidney:--Sit you down here by me. My
friend, I am under the greatest obligations till you for the care you
have taken of Charles.--The principles--religious, moral, and political--
that you have infused intill him, demand the warmest return of gratitude
both fra him and fra me.

_Sid_. Your approbation, sir, next to that of my own conscience, is the
best test of my endeavours, and the highest applause they can receive.

_Sir Per_. Sir, you deserve it,--richly deserve it.--And now, sir, the
same care that you have had of Charles,--the same my wife has taken of her
favourite Constantia.--And sure, never were accomplishments, knowledge or
principles, social and religious, infused intill a better nature.

_Sid_. In truth, sir, I think so too.

_Sir Per_. She is besides a gentlewoman, and of as guid a family as any in
this county.

_Sid_. So I understand, sir.

_SirPer_. Sir, her father had a vast estate; the which he dissipated and
melted in feastings, and friendships, and charities, hospitalities, and
sic kind of nonsense.--But to the business.--Maister Sidney, I love you,--
yes,--I love you,--and I have been looking out and, contriving how to
settle you in the world.--Sir, I want to see you comfortably and
honourably fixt at the head of a respectable family,--and guin you were
mine ain son, a thousand times,--I cou'd nai make a more valuable present
till you for that purpose, as a partner for life, than this same
Constantia,--with sic a fortune down with her as you yourself shall deem
to be competent,--and an assurance of every canonical contingency in my
power to confer or promote.

_Sid_. Sir, your offer is noble and friendly:--but tho' the highest
station would derive lustre from Constantia's charms and worth, yet, were
she more amiable than love could paint her in the lover's fancy,--and
wealthy beyond the thirst of the miser's appetite,--I could not--would not
wed her. [_Rises._

_Sir Per_. Not wed her! odswunds, man! you surprise me!--Why so?--what
hinders?

_Sid_. I beg you will not ask a reason for my refusal,--but, briefly and
finally--it cannot be; nor is it a subject I can longer converse upon.

_Sir Per_. Weel, weel, weel, sir, I have done,--I have done.--Sit down,
man;--sit down again;--sit you down.--I shall mention it no more;--not but
I must confess honestly till you, friend Sidney, that the match, had you
approved of my proposal, besides profiting you, wou'd have been of
singular service till me likewise.--However, you may still serve me as
effectually as if you had married her.

_Sid_. Then, sir, I am sure I will most heartily.

_Sir Per_. I believe it, friend Sidney,--and I thank you.--I have nai
friend to depend upon, but yourself. My heart is almost broke.--I cannot
help these tears,--And, to tell you the fact at once--your friend Charles
is struck with a most dangerous malady,--a kind of insanity.--You see I
cannot help weeping when I think of it;--in short this Constantia, I am
afraid, has cast an evil eye upon him.--Do you understand me?

_Sid._ Not very well, sir.

_Sir Per._ Why, he is grievously smitten with the love of her;--and, I am
afraid, will never be cured without a little of your assistance.

_Sid._ Of my assistance! pray, sir, in what manner?

_Sir Per._ In what manner? Lord, Maister Sidney, how can you be so dull?
Why, how is any man cured of his love till a wench, but by ganging to bed
till her? Now do you understand me?

_Sid._ Perfectly, sir--perfectly.

_Sir Per._ Vary weel.--Now then, my very guid friend, guin you wou'd but
give him that hint, and take an opportunity to speak a guid word for him
till the wench;--and guin you wou'd likewise cast about a little now,--and
contrive to bring them together once,--why, in a few days after he wou'd
nai care a pinch of snuff for her. [Sidney _starts up._] What is the
matter with you, man?--What the devil gars you start and look so
astounded?

_Sid._ Sir, you amaze me.--In what part of my mind or conduct have you
found that baseness, which entitles you to treat me with this indignity?

_Sir Per._ Indignity! What indignity do you mean, sir? Is asking you to
serve a friend with a wench an indignity? Sir, am I not your patron and
benefactor? Ha?

_Sid._ You are, sir, and I feel your bounty at my heart;--but the virtuous
gratitude, that sowed the deep sense of it there, does not inform me that,
in return, the tutor's sacred function, or the social virtue of the man
must be debased into the pupil's pander, or the patron's prostitute.

_Sir Per._ How! what, sir! do you dispute? Are you nai my dependent? ha?
And do you hesitate about an ordinary civility, which is practised every
day by men and women of the first fashion? Sir, let me tell you,--however
nice you may be, there is nai a client about the court that wou'd nai jump
at sic an opportunity to oblige his patron.

_Sid._ Indeed, sir, I believe the doctrine of pimping for patrons, as well
as that of prostituting eloquence and public trust for private lucre, may
be learned in your party schools:--for where faction and public venality
are taught as measures necessary to good government and general
prosperity--there every vice is to be expected.

_Sir Per._ Oho! oho! vary weel! vary weel! fine slander upon ministers!
fine sedition against government! O, ye villain! you--you--you are a black
sheep;--and I'll mark you.--I am glad you shew yourself.--Yes, yes,--you
have taken off the mask at last;--you have been in my service for many
years, and I never knew your principles before.

_Sid._ Sir, you never affronted them before:--if you had, you should have
known them sooner.

_Sir Per._ It is vary weel.--I have done with you.--Ay, ay; now I can
account for my son's conduct--his aversion till courts, till ministers,
levees, public business, and his disobedience till my commands.--Ah! you
are a Judas--a perfidious fellow;--you have ruined the morals of my son,
you villain.--But I have done with you.--However, this I will prophecy at
our parting, for your comfort,--that guin you are so very squeamish about
bringing a lad and a lass together, or about doing sic an a harmless
innocent job for your patron, you will never rise in the church.

_Sid._ Though my conduct, sir, should not make me rise in her power, I am
sure it will in her favour, in the favour of my own conscience too, and in
the esteem of all worthy men;--and that, sir, is a power and dignity
beyond what patrons, or any minister can bestow. [_Exit._

_Sir Per._ What a rigorous, saucy, stiff-necked rascal it is! I see my
folly now.--I am undone by mine ain policy.--This Sidney is the last man
that shou'd have been about my son:--The fellow, indeed, hath given him
principles, that might have done vary weel among the ancient Romans,--but
are damn'd unfit for the modern Britons.--Weel, guin I had a thousand
sons, I never wou'd suffer one of these English, university-bred fellows
to be about a son of mine again;--for they have sic an a pride of
literature and character, and sic saucy, English notions of liberty
continually fermenting in their thoughts, that a man is never sure of
them. Now, if I had had a Frenchman, or a foreigner of any kind, about my
son, I cou'd have pressed him at once into my purpose,--or have kicked the
rascal out of my house in a twinkling.--But what am I to do?--Zoons! he
must nai marry this beggar;--I cannot sit down tamely under that.--Stay,--
haud a wee.--By the blood, I have it.--Yes--I have hit upon it.--I'll have
the wench smuggled till the highlands of Scotland to-morrow morning.--Yes,
yes,--I'll have her smuggled--

_Enter_ BETTY HINT.

_Bet._ O! sir,--I have got the whole secret out.

_Sir Per._ About what?

_Bet._ About Miss Constantia. I have just got all the particulars from
farmer Hilford's youngest daughter, Sukey Hilford.

_Sir Per._ Weel, weel, but what is the story? Quick, quick--what is it?

_Bet._ Why, sir, it is certain that Mrs. Constantia has a sweetheart--or
a husband,--a sort of a gentleman--or a gentleman's gentleman, they don't
know which--that lodges at Gaffer Hodges's--and it is whispered all about
the village that she is with child by him; for Sukey says she saw them
together last night in the dark walk--and Mrs. Constantia was all in
tears.

_Sir Per._ Zoons! I am afraid this is too guid news to be true.

_Bet._ O! sir, 'tis certainly true, for I myself have observed that she
has looked very pale for some time past--and could not eat,--and has
qualms every hour of the day.--Yes, yes, sir--depend upon it, she is
breeding, as sure as my name is Betty Hint..--Besides, sir, she has just
writ a letter to her gallant, and I have sent John Gardener to her, who is
to carry it to him to Hadley.--Now, sir, if your worship would seize it--
See, see, sir,--here John comes with the letter in his hand.

_Sir Per._ Step you out, Betty, and leave the fellow till me.

_Bet._ I will, sir. [_Exit._

_Enter_ JOHN, _with a Packet and a Letter._

_John._ [_Putting the packet into his pocket._] There--go you into my
pocket.--There's nobody in the library, so I'll e'en go thro' the short
way.--Let me see, what is the name?--Mel--Meltil--O, no!--Melville, at
Gaffer Hodges's.

_Sir Per._ What letter is that, sir?

_John._ Letter,sir!

_Sir Per._ Give it me, sir.

_John._ An't please you, sir, it is not mine.

_Sir Per._ Deliver it this instant, sirrah, or I'll break your head.

_John._ [_Giving the letter._] There, there your honour.

_Sir Per._ Begone, rascal.--This, I suppose, will let us intill the whole
business.

_John._ [_Aside._.] You have got the letter, old surly, but the packet is
safe in my pocket. I'll go and deliver that, however, for I will be true
to poor Mrs. Constantia in spite of you. [_Exit._

_Sir Per._ [_Reading the letter._] Um--um 'and bless my eyes with the
sight of you.'--Um--um 'throw myself into your dear arms.' Zoons! 'this
letter is invaluable.---Aha! madam--yes--this will do--this will do, I
think.--Let me see, how is it directed--'To Mr. Melville.' Vary weel.
[_Enter_ Betty.]
O! Betty, you are an excellent wench,--this letter is worth a million.

_Bet._ Is it as I suspected?--to her gallant?

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