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Tri. As my learned friend observes, go on, sir, I am all attention.
Old F. Well—my friend, the counselor
Tri. Say learned friend, if you please sir. We gentlemen of the law always
Old F. Well, well, my learned friend
Tri. A black patch! í Old F. Will you listen and be silent ?
Tri. I am as mute as a judge.
Old F. My friend, I say, has a ward, who is very handsome, and who has a very handsome fortune. She would make you a charming wife.
Tri. This is an action
Old F. Now, I have hitherto been afraid to introduce you to my friend, the barrister, because I thought your lightness and his gravity
Tri. Might be plaintiff and defendant.
Old F. But now you are grown serious and steady, and have resolved to pursue his profession, I will shortly bring you together : you will obtain his good opinion, and all the rest follows of course. Tri. A verdict in
favor. Old F. You marry and sit down happy for life. Tri. In the King's Bench.
Old F. Bravo! ha, ha, ha! But now run to your studyrun to your study, my dear Tristram, and I'll go and call upon the counselor.
Tri. I remove by habeas corpus.
(Hurrying him off.) Tri. Gentlemen of the jury, this is a cause—(Exit.)
Old F. The inimitable boy! I am now the happiest father living. What genius he has ! He'll be lord chancellor one day or other, I dare be sworn-I am sure he has talents! Oh, how I long to see him at the bar.
(Doctor Wisepate, in a morning gown and velvet nightcap, discovered at a table at breakfast. A wig-box near him lying open.)
Doctor Wisepate. Plague on her ladyship's ugly cur !-it has broke three bottles of bark that I had prepared myself for
lord Spleen. I wonder lady Apes troubled me with it. But I understand it threw down her flower-pots and destroyed all her myrtles. I'd send it home this minute, but I'm unwilling to offend its mistress ; for, as she has a deal of money, relation, she may think proper to remember me in her will. (Noise within.) Eh! what noise is that in the hall ?
(Enter Thady O'Keen, dirty and wet, followed by Robert.)
T. O'Keen. But I must and will, do you see. Very pretty indeed, keeping people standing in the hall, shivering and shaking with the wet and cold !
Robert. The mischief's in you, I believe; you order me about as if you were my master.
Dr. W. Why, what's all this? who is this unmannerly fellow?
T. O’K. There! your master says you are an unmannerly fellow.
Rob. Sir, it's lady Apes's servant: he has a letter and says he won't deliver it into any one's hands but your honor's. Now, I warrant my master will teach you better behavior. (Exit.)
T. O’K. Oh, are you sure you are Doctor Wisepate ?
T. O’K. Och! plague on my hat, how wet it is! (Shakes his hat about the room, fc.)
Dr. W. (Lays his spectacles down and rises from the table.) Zounds! fellow, don't wet my room in that manner!
T. O’K. Eh! Well-Oh, I beg pardon—there's the letter: and since I must not dry my hat in your room, why, as you particularly desire it, I will go down to the kitchen, and dry it and myself before the fire. (Goes out.)
Dr. W. Here, you, sir, come back.-I must teach him better manners. (Re-enter Thady O'Keen.) Hark you,
fellowwhom do you live with ?
T. O’K. Whom do I live with ?-why with my mistress, to be sure, lady Apes.
Dr. W. And, pray, sir, how long have you lived with her ladyship?
T. 'O’K. How long ?-ever since the first day she hired me. Dr. W. And has her ladyship taught you no better manners ? T. O’K. Manners ?—she never taught me any, good or bad.
Dr. W. Then, sir, I will ; I'll show you how you should address a gentleman when you enter a room. name?
T. O'K. Name ?-why, it's Thady O'Keen, my jewel.What in wonder is he going to do with my name! (Aside.)
Dr. W. Then, sir, you shall be Dr. Wisepate for awhile,
What's your and I'll be Thady O'Keen, just to show you how you
should enter a room and deliver a letter.
T. O’K. Eh! what ? make a swap of ourselves !— With all my heart. Here's my wet hat for you.
Dr. W. There, sit down in my chair. (Going.)
T. O’K. Stop, stop, honey—by my shoul you can never be Thady O'Keen without you have this little shillelagh in your fist.-There.
Dr. W. Very well. Sit you down. (Takes Thady's hat, fc. and goes out.)
T. O’K. (Solus.) Let me see—I can never bé a doctor either, without some sort of a wig. Oh, here is one—and here's my spectacles, faith. On my conscience, I'm the thing! (Puts on the wig awkwardly, and the spectacles; then sits in the doctor's chair. Dr. Wisepate knocks.) Walk in, honey. (Helps himself to chocolate and bread and butter.)
(Re-enter Dr. Wisepate, bowing.) Dr. W. Please your honor—(Aside.)—What assurance the fellow has!
T. O’K. Speak out, young man, and don't be bashful. (Eating, fc.)
Dr. W. Please your honor, my lady sends her respectful compliments-hopes your honor is well.
T. OK. Pretty well, pretty well, I thank you.
T. O’K. That letter, well, why don't you bring it to me? Pray, am I to rise from the table ?
Dr. W. So, he's acting my character with a vengeance. But I'll humor him. (Aside.) There your honor. (Gives the letter bowing.)
T. OK (Opens the letter and reads.) “Sir,-Since my dear Flora has given you so much uneasi
-Och! by my shoul, that's no lie- I beg leave to inform you that a gentleman shall call either to-day or to-morrow for her. If it should rain, I request the poor thing may
have awhat's this ?-C o a-coat !-coat, no-coach. Yours." Hem! well--no answer's required, young man.
Dr. W. His impudence has struck me almost dumb. (Aside.) No answer, your honor ?
T. OʻK. No, my good fellow-but come here-let me look at you. Oh, you seem very wet. Why it's you I understand, who brought this troublesome cur a few days ago : you have been often backwards and forwards, but I could never see you
Hollo, Robert! where's my lazy good-for-nothing servant? Robert! (Rings a bell.)
Dr. W. Eh! what the deuce does he mean? (Aside.)
(Enter Robert, who stares at them both.) Rob. Eh !-Did-did you call, sir? (To Dr. Wisepate.)
T. OʻK. Yes, sirrah. Take that poor fellow down to the kitchen; he's come upon a foolish errand this cold wet day-, so, do you see, give him something to eat and drink- -as much as he likes—and bid my steward give him a guinea for his trouble.
T. O’K. Tunder and ouns, fellow! must I put my words into my mouth, and take them out again, for you? Thady, (To the Doctor.) my jewel, just give that blockhead of mine a rap on his sconce with your little bit of a switch, and I'll do as much for you
another time. Dr. W. So, instead of my instructing the fellow he has absolutely instructed me. (Aside.) Well, sir, you have convinced me what Dr. Wisepate should be, and now suppose we are ourselves again.
T. O’K. (Rises.) With all my heart, sir. Here's your honor's wig and spectacles, and now give me my comfortable hat and switch.
Dr. W. And, Robert, obey the orders that my representative gave you.
Rob. What! carry him down to the kitchen!
T. O’K. No, young man, I shan't trouble you to carry me down-I'll carry myself down, and you shall see what a beautiful hand master O'Keen is at a knife and fork. (Exit with Robert.)
Dr. W. (Solus.) Well, this fellow has some humor ; indeed he has fairly turned the tables upon me. I wish I could get him to give a dose of my prescribing to her ladyship's cats and dogs, for the foolish woman has absolutely bequeathed in her will an annual sum for the care of each, after her death. Oh, dear! dear! how much more to her credit it would be to consider the present exigencies of her country, and add to the number of voluntary contributions !
Falstaff. A plague on all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too!
marry, and amen !-(To an attendant.) of sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nethersocks,
Give me a cup
and mend them, and foot them too. A plague on all cowards: -Give me a cup of sack, rogue.- Is there no virtue extant ? (Drains the cup.) You rogue, here's lime in this sack, too. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man! Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villanous coward.—Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of :he earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grown old,-a bad world, I say! A plague on all cowards, I
P. Henry. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you?
Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You-Prince of Wales !
P. Henry. Why, what's the matter?
P. Henry. Ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee.
Fal. I call thee coward ? I'll see thee hanged ere I call thee coward : but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back. Call you that, backing of your friends ? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me.-Give me a cup of sack :-I am a rogue, if I have drunk to-day.
P. Henry. Oh villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drankst last.
Fal. All's one for that. (He drinks.) A plague on all cowards, still say I!
P. Henry. What's the matter ?
Fal. What's the matter ? here be four of us have taken a thousand pound this morning.
P. Henry. Where is it, Jack ? where is it?
Fal. Where is it? taken from us, it is : a hundred upon poor
four of us. P. Henry. What, a hundred, man?
Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'escaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet : four through the hose ; my buckler cut through and through ; my sword hacked like a handsaw, eccé signum. (Shows his sword.) I never dealt better since I was a man: all would not do. A plague on all cowards !