Actresses -- Fiction; Biographical fiction; Great Britain -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction; Woffington, Margaret, -1760 -- Fiction
“That is not quite the answer I expected, Sir Charles,” replied this
lively lady; “but it serves me right for fishing on dry land. Well,
then, you must know a young gentleman courted me. I forget whether I
liked him or not; but you will fancy I hated him, for I promised to
marry him. You must understand, gentlemen, that I was sent into the
world, not to act, which I abominate, but to chronicle small beer and
teach an army of little brats their letters; so this word 'wife,' and
that word 'chimney-corner,' took possession of my mind, and a vision of
darning stockings for a large party, all my own, filled my heart, and
really I felt quite grateful to the little brute that was to give me all
this, and he would have had such a wife as men never do have, still less
deserve. But one fine day that the theater left me time to examine his
manner toward me, I instantly discovered he was deceiving me. So I had
him watched, and the little brute was going to marry another woman, and
break it to me by degrees afterward, etc. You know, Sir Charles? Ah! I
see you do.
“I found her out; got an introduction to her father; went down to his
house three days before the marriage, with a little coalblack mustache,
regimentals, and what not; made up, in short, with the art of my sex,
gentlemen--and the impudence of yours.
“The first day I flirted and danced with the bride. The second I
made love to her, and at night I let her know that her intended was a
villain. I showed her letters of his; protestations, oaths of eternal
fidelity to one Peg Woffington, 'who will die,' drawled I,' if he
betrays her.'
“And here, gentlemen, mark the justice of Heaven. I received a
backhanded slap: 'Peg Woffington! an actress! Oh, the villain!' cried
she; 'let him marry the little vagabond. How dare he insult me with his
hand that had been offered in such a quarter?'
“So, in a fit of virtuous indignation, the little hypocrite dismissed
the little brute; in other words, she had fallen in love with me.
“I have not had many happy hours, but I remember it was delicious to
look out of my window, and at the same moment smell the honeysuckles and
see my _perfide_ dismissed under a heap of scorn and a pile of luggage
he had brought down for his wedding tour.
“I scampered up to London, laughing all the way; and when I got home, if
I remember right, I cried for two hours. How do you account for that?”
“I hope, madam,” said Vane, gravely, “it was remorse for having trifled
with that poor young lady's heart; she had never injured you.”
“But, sir, the husband I robbed her of was a brute and a villain in his
little way, and wicked and good-for-nothing, etc. He would have deceived
that poor little hypocrite, as he had this one,” pointing to herself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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