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SUCH THINGS ARE;

A Play, in Five Acts.

As Performed at the
Theatre Royal, Covent Garden.

by

MRS. INCHBALD.

Second Edition.







London:
Printed for G. G. J. and J. ROBINSON, Pater-noster Row.
MDCCLXXXVIII.




ADVERTISEMENT.


The travels of an Englishman throughout Europe, and even in some parts
of Asia, to soften the sorrows of the Prisoner, excited in the mind of
the Author the subject of the following pages, which, formed into a
dramatic story, have produced from the Theatre a profit far exceeding
the usual pecuniary advantages arising from a successful Comedy.

The uncertainty in what part of the East the hero of the present
piece was (at the time it was written) dispensing his benevolence,
caused the Writer, after many researches and objections, to fix the
scene on the island of Sumatra, where the English settlement, the
system of government, and every description of the manners of the
people, reconcile the incidents of the Play to the strictest degree
of probability.




PROLOGUE,

Written by THOMAS VAUGHAN, Esq.

Spoken by Mr. HOLMAN.


  How say you, critic Gods[1], and you below[2];
  Are you all friends?--or here--and there--a foe?
  Come to protect your _literary_ trade,
  Which Mrs. _Scribble_ dares _again_ invade--
  But know you not--_in all_ the fair ones do,
  'Tis not to please themselves alone--but you.
  Then who so churlish, or so cynic grown,
  Would wish to change a _simper_ for a _frown_?
  Or who so jealous of their own _dear_ quill,
  Would point the paragraph her fame to kill?
  Yet such there are, in this all-scribbling town,  }
  And men of letters too--of some renown,           }
  Who sicken at all merit but their own.            }
  But sure 'twere more for Wit's--for Honour's sake,
  To make the Drama's _race_--_the give and take_.
                            [_Looking round the house._
  My hint I see's approv'd--so pray begin it,
  And praise us--_roundly_ for the _good things_ in it,
  Nor let severity our faults expose,
  When godlike Homer's self was known to doze.
    But of the piece--Methinks I hear you hint,
  Some dozen lines or more should give the tint--
  "Tell how _Sir John_ with _Lady Betty_'s maid
  Is caught intriguing at a masquerade;
  Which Lady Betty, in a jealous fit,
  Resents by flirting with _Sir Ben_--the cit.
  Whose _three_-feet spouse, to modish follies bent,
  Mistakes a _six_-feet Valet--for a Gent.
  Whilst Miss, repugnant to her Guardian's plan,
  Elopes in Breeches with her fav'rite man."
  Such are the _hints_ we read in _Roscius'_ days,
  By way of Prologue ushered in _their_ plays.
  But _we_, like Ministers and cautious spies,
  In _secret measures_ think--the merit lies.
  Yet shall the Muse thus far unveil the plot--
  This play was _tragi-comically_ got,
  Those sympathetic sorrows to impart
  Which harmonize the feelings of the heart;
  And may at least this humble merit boast,
  A structure founded on fair _Fancy_'s coast.
  With you it rests that judgement to proclaim,
  Which _in the world_ must raise or sink it's fame.
  Yet ere her judges sign their last report,
  'Tis you [_to the boxes_] must recommend her to the Court;
  Whose smiles, like _Cynthia_, in a winter's night,
  Will cheer our wand'rer with a gleam of light.

 1. Galleries.
 2. Pit.




ACT I.


SCENE, _The Island of Sumatra, in East India_.

CHARACTERS.


   MEN.

  _Sultan_,             Mr. Farren,
  _Lord Flint_,         Mr. Davies,
  _Sir Luke Tremor_,    Mr. Quick,
  _Mr. Twineall_,       Mr. Lewis,
  _Mr. Haswell_,        Mr. Pope,
  _Elvirus_,            Mr. Holman,
  _Mr. Meanright_,      Mr. Macready,
  _Zedan_,              Mr. Fearon,
  _First Keeper_,       Mr. Thompson,
  _Second Keeper_,      Mr. Cubitt,
  _First Prisoner_,     Mr. Helme,
  _Second Prisoner_,    Mr. Gardener.
  _Guard_,              Mr. Blurton,
  _Messenger_,          Mr. Ledger.

   WOMEN.

  _Lady Tremor_,        Mrs. Mattocks,
  _Aurelia_,            Miss Wilkinson,
  _Female Prisoner_,    Mrs. Pope.

  _Time of Representation, Twelve Hours._




SUCH THINGS ARE.

A PLAY.

IN FIVE ACTS.




ACT I.


SCENE I. _A Parlour at Sir_ Luke Tremor'_s_.

_Enter Sir_ Luke, _followed by Lady_ Tremor.


_Sir Luke._ I tell you, Madam, you are two and thirty.

_Lady Tremor._ I tell you, Sir, you are mistaken.

_Sir Luke._ Why, did not you come over from England exactly sixteen
years ago?

_Lady._ Not so long.

_Sir Luke._ Have not we been married the tenth of next April sixteen
years?

_Lady._ Not so long.--

_Sir Luke._ Did you not come over the year of the great Eclipse?
answer me that.

_Lady._ I don't remember it.

_Sir Luke._ But I do--and shall remember it as long as I live--the
first time I saw you, was in the garden of the Dutch Envoy; you were
looking through a glass at the sun--I immediately began to make love
to you, and the whole affair was settled while the eclipse
lasted--just one hour, eleven minutes, and three seconds.

_Lady._ But what is all this to my age?

_Sir Luke._ Because I know you were at that time near seventeen--and
without one qualification except your youth--and not being a Mullatto.

_Lady._ Sir Luke, Sir Luke, this is not to be borne--

_Sir Luke._ Oh! yes--I forgot--you had two letters of recommendation,
from two great families in England.

_Lady._ Letters of recommendation!

_Sir Luke._ Yes; your character----that, you know, is all the fortune
we poor Englishmen, situated in India, expect with a wife who crosses
the sea at the hazard of her life, to make us happy.

_Lady._ And what but our characters would you have us bring? Do you
suppose any lady ever came to India, who brought along with her,
friends, or fortune?

_Sir Luke._ No, my dear--and what is worse--she seldom leaves them
behind, either.

_Lady._ No matter, Sir Luke--but if I delivered to you a good
character----

_Sir Luke._ Yes, my dear you did--and if you were to ask me for it
again, I can't say I could give it you.

_Lady._ How uncivil! how unlike are your manners to the manners of my
Lord Flint.

_Sir Luke._ Ay--you are never so happy as when you have an opportunity
of expressing your admiration of him--a disagreeable, nay, a very
dangerous man--one is never sure of one's self in his presence--he
carries every thing he hears to the ministers of our suspicious
Sultan--and I feel my head shake whenever I am in his company.

_Lady._ How different does his Lordship appear to me--to me he is all
_politesse_.

_Sir Luke._ _Politesse!_ how shou'd you understand what is real
_politesse_? You know your education was very much confined.--

_Lady._ And if it _was_ confined----I beg, Sir Luke, you will one
time or other cease these reflections--you know they are what I can't
bear! [_walks about in a passion._] pray, does not his Lordship
continually assure me, I might be taken for a Countess, were it not
for a certain little groveling toss I have caught with my head--and
a certain little confined hitch in my walk? both which I learnt of
_you_--learnt by looking so much at _you_.--

_Sir Luke._ And now if you don't take care, by looking so much at his
Lordship, you may catch some of his defects.

_Lady._ I know of very few he has.

_Sir Luke._ I know of many--besides those he assumes.--

_Lady._ Assumes!!----

_Sir Luke._ Yes; do you suppose he is as forgetful as he pretends to
be? no, no--but because he is a favourite with the Sultan, and all
our great men at court, he thinks it genteel or convenient to have
no memory--and yet I'll answer for it, he has one of the best in the
universe.

_Lady._ I don't believe your charge.

_Sir Luke._ Why, though he forgets his appointments with his
tradesmen, did you ever hear of his forgetting to go to court when a
place was to be disposed of? Did he ever make a blunder, and send a
bribe to a man out of power? Did he ever forget to kneel before the
Prince of this Island--or to look in his highness's presence like the
statue of Patient-resignation in humble expectation?--

_Lady._ Dear, Sir Luke----

_Sir Luke._ Sent from his own country in his very infancy, and brought
up in the different courts of petty, arbitrary Princes here in Asia;
he is the slave of every great man, and the tyrant of every poor
one.----

_Lady._ "Petty Princes!"--'tis well his highness our Sultan does not
hear you.

_Sir Luke._ 'Tis well he does not--don't you repeat what I say--but
you know how all this fine country is harrassed and laid waste by a
set of Princes, Sultans, as they style themselves, and I know not
what--who are for ever calling out to each other "that's mine," and
"that's mine;"--and "you have no business here"--and "you have no
business there"--and "I have business every where;" [_Strutting_]
then "give _me_ this,"--and "give _me_ that;" and "take this, and
take that." [_makes signs of fighting._]

_Lady._ A very elegant description truly.

_Sir Luke._ Why, you know 'tis all matter of fact--and Lord Flint,
brought up from his youth amongst these people, has not one _trait_ of
an Englishman about him--he has imbibed all this country's cruelty,
and I dare say wou'd mind no more seeing me hung up by my thumbs--or
made to dance upon a red-hot gridiron----

_Lady._ That is one of the tortures I never heard of!--O! I shou'd
like to see that of all things!

_Sir Luke._ Yes--by keeping this man's company, you'll soon be as
cruel as he is--he will teach you every vice--a consequential--grave
--dull--and yet with that degree of levity, that dares to pay his
addresses to a woman, even before her husband's face.

_Lady._ Did not you say, this minute, his Lordship had not a _trait_
of his own country about him?--

_Sir Luke._ Well, well--as you say, that last _is_ a _trait_ of his
own country.

     _Enter_ Servant _and_ Lord Flint.


_Serv._ Lord Flint.--[_Exit_ Servant.

_Lady._ My Lord, I am extremely glad to see you--we were just
mentioning your name.--

_Lord._ Were you, indeed, Madam? You do me great honour.

_Sir Luke._ No, my Lord--no great honour.

_Lord._ Pardon me, Sir Luke.

_Sir Luke._ But, I assure you, my Lord, what I said, did _myself_ a
great deal of honour.

_Lady._ Yes, my Lord, and I'll acquaint your Lordship what it was.
[_going up to him._

_Sir Luke._ [_Pulling her aside_] Why, you wou'd not inform against me
sure! Do you know what would be the consequence? My head must answer
it. [_frightened._]

_Lord._ Nay, Sir Luke, I insist upon knowing.

_Sir Luke._ [_To her_] Hush--hush----no, my Lord, pray excuse
me--your Lordship perhaps may think what I said did not come from my
heart; and I assure you, upon my honour, it did.

_Lady._ O, yes--that I am sure it did.

_Lord._ I am extremely obliged to you. [_bowing._

_Sir Luke._ O, no, my Lord, not at all--not at all.--[_aside to
her._] I'll be extremely obliged to _you_, if you will hold your
tongue--Pray, my Lord, are you engaged out to dinner to-day? for her
Ladyship and I dine out.

_Lady._ Yes, my Lord, and we should be happy to find your Lordship of
the party.

_Lord._ "Engaged out to dinner"?--egad very likely--very likely--but
if I am--I have positively forgotten where.

_Lady._ We are going to----

_Lord._ No--I think (now you put me in mind of it) I think I have
company to dine with me--I am either going out to dinner, or have
company to dine with me; but I really can't tell which--however, my
people know----but I can't call to mind.--

_Sir Luke._ Perhaps your Lordship _has_ dined; can you recollect that?

_Lord._ No, no--I have not dined----what's o'clock?

_Lady._ Perhaps, my Lord, you have not breakfasted.

_Lord._ O, yes, I've breakfasted--I think so--but upon my word these
things are very hard to remember.

_Sir Luke._ They are indeed, my Lord--and I wish all my family wou'd
entirely forget them.

_Lord._ What did your Ladyship say was o'clock?

_Lady._ Exactly twelve, my Lord.

_Lord._ Bless me! I ought to have been some where else then--an
absolute engagement.--I have broke my word--a positive appointment.

_Lady._ Shall I send a servant?

_Lord._ No, no, no, no--by no means--it can't be helped now--and they
know my unfortunate failing--besides, I'll beg their pardon, and I
trust that will be ample satisfaction.

_Lady._ You are very good, my Lord, not to leave us.

_Lord._ I cou'd not think of leaving you so soon, Madam--the happiness
I enjoy here is _such_--

_Sir Luke._ And very likely were your Lordship to go away now, you
might never recollect to come again.

     _Enter_ Servant.

_Serv._ A Gentleman, Sir, just come from on board an English vessel,
says, he has letters to present to you.

_Sir Luke._ Shew him in--[_Exit_ Servant.] _He_ has brought his
character too, I suppose--and left it _behind_, too, I suppose.

     _Enter Mr._ Twineall, _in a fashionable undress_.

_Twi._ Sir Luke, I have the honour of presenting to