Richard Steele: Edited, with an Introduction and Notes by G. A. AitkenSteele, Richard, Sir
General
Richard Steele: Edited, with an Introduction and Notes by G. A. Aitken
Steele, Richard, Sir
English drama (Comedy); Steele, Richard, Sir, 1672-1729
_L. Ha._ Incomparably done! Nothing can equal it, except your cousin
sang his own poetry.
_Cam._ Madam, from my Lord Hardy. [_Delivers a letter to_ LADY
SHARLOT.]--How do you say, my Lady Harriot, except I sing it myself?
Then I assure you I will----
_L. Sh._ I han't patience. I must go read my letter. [_Exit._
_Cam._ [_Sings_] Let not love, &c.
_Far._ Bless me, what's become of Lady Sharlot? [_Exit._
_L. Ha._ Mrs. Fardingale, Mrs. Fardingale, what, must we lose you?
[_Going after her._
CAMPLEY _runs to the door, takes the key out, and locks her in._
What means this insolence? a plot upon me--Do you know who I am?
_Cam._ Yes, madam, you're my Lady Harriot Lovely, with ten thousand
pounds in your pocket; and I am Mr. Campley, with two thousand a year,
of quality enough to pretend to you. And I do design, before I leave
this room, to hear you talk like a reasonable woman, as nature has made
you. Nay, 'tis in vain to flounce, and discompose yourself and your
dress.
_L. Ha._ If there are swords, if they are men of honour, and not all
dastards, cowards that pretend to this injured person----[_Running
round the room._
_Cam._ Ay, ay, madam, let 'em come. That's putting me in my way,
fighting's my trade; but you've used all mankind too ill to expect so
much service. In short, madam, were you a fool I should not desire to
expostulate with you. [_Seizing her hand._] But----
_L. Ha._ Unhand me, ravisher. [_Pulls her hand from him, chases round
the room,_ CAMPLEY _after her._
_Cam._ But madam, madam, madam, why madam!
Prithee Cynthia look behind you, [_Sings._
Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you.
_L. Ha._ Age, wrinkles, small-pox, nay, anything that's most abhorrent
to youth and bloom, were welcome in the place of so detested a creature.
_Cam._ No such matter, Lady Harriot. I would not be a vain coxcomb, but
I know I am not detestable, nay, know where you've said as much before
you understood me for your servant. Was I immediately transformed
because I became your lover?
_L. Ha._ My lover, sir! did I ever give you reason to think I admitted
you as such?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account