The Recruiting Officer. George Farquhar
Vapours!
Mel. What do you say, madam?
Syl. I say, that you should not use that honest fellow so inhumanly: he's a gentleman of parts and fortune, and besides that, he's my Plume's friend; and by all that's sacred, if you don't use him better, I shall expect satisfaction.
Mel. Satisfaction! you begin to fancy yourself in breeches in good earnest – But, to be plain with you, I like Worthy the worse for being so intimate with your captain; for I take him to be a loose, idle, unmannerly coxcomb.
Syl. Oh, Madam! you never saw him, perhaps, since you were mistress of twenty thousand pounds: you only knew him when you were capitulating with Worthy for a settlement, which perhaps might encourage him to be a little loose and unmannerly with you.
Mel. What do you mean, madam?
Syl. My meaning needs no interpretation, madam.
Mel. Better it had, madam; for methinks you are too plain.
Syl. If you mean the plainness of my person, I think your ladyship's as plain as me to the full.
Mel. Were I sure of that, I would be glad to take up with a rakehelly officer, as you do.
Syl. Again! lookye, madam, you are in your own house.
Mel. And if you had kept in yours, I should have excused you.
Syl. Don't be troubled, madam; I shan't desire to have my visit returned.
Mel. The sooner, therefore, you make an end of this, the better.
Syl. I am easily persuaded to follow my inclinations; and so, madam, your humble servant.
Mel. Saucy thing!
Lucy. What's the matter, madam?
Mel. Did not you see the proud nothing, how she swelled upon the arrival of her fellow?
Lucy. Her fellow has not been long enough arrived, to occasion any great swelling, madam; I don't believe she has seen him yet.
Mel. Nor shan't, if I can help it. – Let me see – I have it; bring me pen and ink – Hold, I'll go write in my closet.
Lucy. An answer to this letter, I hope, madam?
Mel. Who sent it?
Lucy. Your captain, madam.
Mel. He's a fool, and I'm tired of him: send it back unopened.
Lucy. The messenger's gone, madam.
Mel. Then how should I send an answer? Call him back immediately, while I go write.
ACT THE SECOND
SCENE I
Bal. Lookye, captain, give us but blood for our money, and you shan't want men. Ad's my life, captain, get us but another marshal of France, and I'll go myself for a soldier.
Plume. Pray, Mr. Balance, how does your fair daughter?
Bal. Ah, captain! what is my daughter to a marshal of France? we're upon a nobler subject; I want to have a particular description of the last battle.
Plume. The battle, sir, was a very pretty battle as any one should desire to see; but we were all so intent upon victory, that we never minded the battle: all that I know of the matter is, our general commanded us to beat the French, and we did so; and, if he pleases but to say the word, we'll do it again. But pray, sir, how does Mrs. Sylvia?
Bal. Still upon Sylvia! for shame, captain! you are engaged already – wedded to the war: victory is your mistress, and 'tis below a soldier to think of any other.
Plume. As a mistress, I confess – but as a friend, Mr. Balance —
Bal. Come, come, captain, never mince the matter; would not you seduce my daughter, if you could?
Plume. How, sir? I hope she is not to be seduced.
Bal. 'Faith, but she is, sir; and any woman in England of her age and complexion, by your youth and vigour. Lookye, captain, once I was young, and once an officer, as you are, and I can guess at your thoughts now by what mine were then; and I remember very well that I would have given one of my legs to have deluded the daughter of an old country gentleman like me, as I was then like you.
Plume. But, sir, was that country gentleman your friend and benefactor?
Bal. Not much of that.
Plume. There the comparison breaks: the favours, sir, that —
Bal. Pho, pho! I hate set speeches: if I have done you any service, captain, it was to please myself. I love thee, and if I could part with my girl, you should have her as soon as any young fellow I know; but I hope you have more honour than to quit the service, and she more prudence than to follow the camp: but she's at her own disposal; she has five thousand pounds in her pocket, and so – Sylvia, Sylvia!
Syl. There are some letters, sir, come by the post from London; I left them upon the table in your closet.
Bal. And here is a gentleman from Germany. – [Presents Plume to her.] Captain, you'll excuse me; I'll go read my letters, and wait on you.
Syl. Sir, you are welcome to England.
Plume. You are indebted to me a welcome, madam, since the hopes of receiving it from this fair hand was the principal cause of my seeing England.
Syl. I have often heard that soldiers were sincere; may I venture to believe public report?
Plume. You may, when 'tis backed by private insurance; for I swear, madam, by the honour of my profession, that whatever dangers I went upon, it was with the hope of making myself more worthy of your esteem; and if ever I had thoughts of preserving my life, 'twas for the pleasure of dying at your feet.
Syl. Well, well, you shall die at my feet, or where you will; but you know, sir, there is a certain will and testament to be made beforehand.
Plume. My will, madam, is made already, and there it is; and if you please to open that parchment, which was drawn the evening before the battle of Hockstet, you will find whom I left my heir.
Syl. Mrs. Sylvia Balance. [Opens the Will, and reads.] Well, captain, this is a handsome and substantial compliment; but I can assure you I am much better pleased with the bare knowledge of your intention, than I should have been in the possession of your legacy: but, methinks, sir, you should have left something to your little boy at the Castle.
Plume. That's home. [Aside.] My little boy! lack-a-day, madam! that alone may convince you 'twas none of mine: why, the girl, madam, is my serjeant's wife, and so the poor creature gave out that I was the father, in hopes that my friends might support her in case of necessity. – That was all, madam – my boy! no, no, no!
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