Chapter XII: Part II: Humorous Hits (8)

_K. Hen._ Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honor, in true English, I love thee, Kate; by which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage. I was created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that, when I come to woo ladies, I fright them. But, in faith Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear; my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face: thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better: and therefore, tell me, most fair Katharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress; take me by the hand, and say, "Harry of England, I am thine"; which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud, "England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry Plantagenet is thine"; who, tho I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music and thy English broken; therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English; wilt thou have me?

_Kath._ Dat is as it sall please de Roi mon père.

_K. Hen._ Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate.

_Kath._ Den it sall also content me.

_K. Hen._ Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.

_Kath._ Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez.

_K. Hen._ Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.

_Kath._ Il n'est pas la coutume de France.

_K. Hen._ Madam my interpreter, what says she?

_Alice._ Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France--I can not tell vat is _baiser_ en Anglish.

_K. Hen._ To kiss.

_Alice._ Your majesty entendre bettre que moi.

_K. Hen._ It is not the fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would you say?

_Alice._ Oui, vraiment.

_K. Hen._ O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I can not be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouth of all find-faults; as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kiss; therefore, patiently and yielding. (_Kisses her._) You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate; there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.

SCENE FROM "THE RIVALS"

BY RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN

_Mrs. M._ There, Sir Anthony, there stands the deliberate simpleton who wants to disgrace her family and lavish herself on a fellow not worth a shilling.

_Lyd._ Madam, I thought you once----

_Mrs. M._ You thought, miss! I don't know any business you have to think at all. Thought does not become a young woman. But the point we would request of you is, that you will promise to forget this fellow--to illiterate him, I say, from your memory.

_Lyd._ Ah, madam! our memories are independent of our wills. It is not so easy to forget.

_Mrs. M._ But I say it is, miss! There is nothing on earth so easy as to forget, if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I have as much forgot your poor, dear uncle as if he had never existed, and I thought it my duty to do so; and let me tell you, Lydia, these violent memories don't become a young woman.

_Sir A._ Surely, the young woman does not pretend to remember what she is ordered to forget! Ah, this comes of her reading.

_Lyd._ What crime, madam, have I committed, to be treated thus?

_Mrs. M._ Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I have proof controvertible of it. But tell me, will you promise me to do as you are bid? Will you take a husband of your friends' choosing?

_Lyd._ Madam, I must tell you plainly that, had I no preference for any one else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

_Mrs. M._ What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don't become a young woman; and you ought to know that, as both always wear off, 'tis safest, in matrimony, to begin with a little aversion. I am sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage as if he'd been a blackamoor, and yet, miss, you are sensible what a wife I made; and, when it pleased heaven to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears I shed!

_Sir A._ He-e-m!

_Mrs. M._ But, suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you promise us to give up this Beverley?

_Lyd._ Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my actions would certainly as far belie my words.

_Mrs. M._ Take yourself to your room! You are fit company for nothing but your own ill humors.

_Lyd._ Willingly, ma'am; I can not change for the worse. [_Exit._

_Mrs. M._ There's a little intricate hussy for you!

_Sir. A._ It is not to be wondered at, ma'am; all that is the natural consequence of teaching girls to read. In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece's maid coming forth from a circulating library; she had a book in each hand--they were half-bound volumes, with marble covers. From that moment, I guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

_Mrs. M._ Those are vile places, indeed!

_Sir A._ Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge! It blossoms through the year! And, depend upon it, Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will long for the fruit at last.

_Mrs. M._ Fie, fie, Sir Anthony; you surely speak laconically. (_Sir Anthony places a chair for her and another for himself, bows to her respectfully and waits till she is seated._)

_Sir A._ Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation, now, what would you have a woman know?

_Mrs. M._ Observe me, Sir Anthony--I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning. I don't think so much learning becomes a young woman. For instance--I would never let her meddle with Greek, or Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or Fluxions, or paradoxes, or such inflammatory branches of learning; nor will it be necessary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instruments; but, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice. Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts; and, as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might know something of the contagious countries; above all, she should be a perfect mistress of orthodoxy--that is, she should not mispronounce and misspell words as our young women of the present day constantly do. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know; and I don't think there is a superstitious article in it.

_Sir A._ Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with you, tho I must confess that you are a truly moderate and polite arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side of the question. But to the more important point in debate--you say you have no objection to my proposal?

_Mrs. M._ None, I assure you. I am under no positive engagement with Mr. Acres; and as Lydia is so obstinate against him, perhaps your son may have better success.

_Sir A._ Well, madam, I will write for the boy directly. He knows not a syllable of this yet, tho I have for some time had the proposal in my head. He is at present with his regiment.

_Mrs. M._ We have never seen your son, Sir Anthony; but I hope no objection on his side.

_Sir A._ Objection! Let him object, if he dare! No, no, Mrs. Malaprop; Jack knows that the least demur puts me in a frenzy directly. My process was always very simple. In his younger days 'twas--"Jack, do this." If he demurred, I knocked him down; and if he grumbled at that, I always sent him out of the room.

_Mrs. M._ Ay, and the properest way, o' my conscience! Nothing is so conciliating to young people as severity. (_Both rise._) Well, Sir Anthony, I shall give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your son's invocations; and I hope you will represent her to the captain as an object not altogether illegible.

_Sir A._ Madam, I will handle the subject prudently. I must leave you. Good morning, Mrs. Malaprop. (_Both bow profoundly; Sir Anthony steps back as if to go out, then returns to say_:) And let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this matter roundly to the girl--take my advice, keep a tight hand. Good-morning, Mrs. Malaprop. If she rejects this proposal, clap her under lock and key. Good-morning, Mrs. Malaprop. And if you were just to let the servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four days, you can't conceive how she'd come about. Good-morning, Mrs. Malaprop.

SCENES FROM "RIP VAN WINKLE"

AS RECITED BY THE LATE A. P. BURBANK

CHARACTERS: _Rip Van Winkle; Derrick Von Beekman, the villain of the play, who endeavors to get Rip drunk in order to have him sign away his property to Von Beekman; Nick Vedder, the village innkeeper._

SCENE I: _The village inn. Von Beekman, alone. Enter Rip, laughing like a child himself, and shaking off the children._

_Rip_ (_to the children outside_). Hey! You let my dog Schneider alone dere; you hear dat, Sock der Jacob, der bist eine fordonner spitspoo--yah----Why, hullo, Derrick! how you was? Did you hear dem liddle fellers just now? Dey most plague me crazy. Ha, ha, ha! I like to laugh my outsides in every time I tink about it. Just now, as we was comin' through the willage--Schneider und me--Schneider's my dog; I don't know whether you know him? Well, dem liddle fellers, dey took Schneider und--ha, ha, ha!--dey--ha, ha!--_dey tied a tin-kettle mit Schneider's tail!_ Ha, ha, ha! My, how he did run den, mit the kettle banging about! My, how scared he was! Well, I didn't hi him comin'. He run betwixt me und my legs und spilt me und all dem children in the mud,--yah, dat's a fact. Ha, ha, ha!

_Derrick._ Ah, yes, that's all right, Rip, very funny, very funny; but what do you say to a glass of liquor, Rip?

_Rip._ What do I generally say to a glass? I generally say it's a fine thing--when dere's plenty in it--und I say more to what is _in_ it than to the glass.

_Derrick._ Certainly, certainly. Say, hello there! Nick Vedder, bring out a bottle of your best.

_Rip._ Dat's right--fill 'em up. You wouldn't believe it, Derrick, dat's the first one I've had to-day. I guess, maybe, the reason is, I couldn't got it before. Ah, Derrick, my score is too big! Well, here is your good health und your family's, und may dey all live long und prosper! Ah, you may well go "Ah" und smack your chops over dat. You don't give me such schnapps when I come. Where you got dat?

_Nick._ That's high Dutch, Rip,--high Dutch, and ten years in bottle.

_Rip._ Well, come on, fill 'em up again. Git out mit dat vater, Nick Vedder; I don't want no vater in my liquor. Good liquor und vater, Derrick, is just like man und wife--_dey don't agree well togedder!_ Dat's me und _my_ wife, anyway. Well, come on again. Here is your good health und your family's, und may dey all live long und prosper!

_Nick._ That's right, Rip; drink away, and "drown your sorrows in the flowing bowl."

_Rip._ Drown my sorrows? Yah, but _she_ won't drown. My wife is my sorrow und you cannick drown her. She tried it once, but she couldn't do it. Didn't you know dat Gretchen like to get drown? No? Dat's the funniest thing of the whole of it. It's the same day I got married; she was comin' across dat Hudson River dere in the ferry-boat to get married mit me.

_Derrick._ Yes.

_Rip._ Well, the boat she was comin' in got upsetted.

_Derrick._ Ah!

_Rip._ Well, but she wasn't in it.

_Nick._ Oh!

_Rip._ No, dat's what I say; if she had been in the boat what got upsetted, maybe she might have got drowned. She got left behind somehow or odder. Women is always behind dat way--always.

_Derrick._ But surely, Rip, you would have risked your life to save her.

_Rip_ (_incredulously_). You mean I would yump in und pull Gretchen out? Oh, would I? Oh, you mean den--yes, I believe I would den. But it would be a good deal more my duty now as it was den. When a feller gets married a good many years mit his wife, he gets very much attached to her. But if Mrs. Van Winkle was a-drownin' in the water now, und should say to me, "Rip, come und save your wife!" I would say, "Mrs. Van Winkle, I will yust go home und tink about it!" Oh, no, Derrick, if ever Gretchen tumbles in the water now, she's got to swim; I told you dat--ha, ha, ha, ha! Hullo! dat's her a-comin' now; I guess it's better I go oud!

[_Exit Rip._

SCENE II: _Rip's home. Shortly after his conversation with Von Beekman, Rip's wife found him carousing and dancing upon the village green with the pretty girls. She drove him away in no very gentle fashion. Returning home after nightfall in a decidedly muddled condition, he puts his head through the open window at the rear, not observing his irate wife, who stands in ambush behind the clothes-press, with her ever-ready broomstick, to give him a warm reception; but seeing only his little daughter Meenie, of whom he is very fond, Rip says_:

_Rip._ Meenie! Meenie, my darlin'!

_Meenie._ Hush-sh-h. (_Shakes finger to indicate the presence of her mother._)

_Rip._ Eh! what's the matter? I don't see nothing, my darlin'. Meenie, is the old wildcat home? Oh, say, is dot you, Gretchen? My darlin', my angel, don't do dat,--let go my head, won't you? Well, den, hold on to it so long what you like. For what you do dat, eh? You must want a bald-headed husband, I reckon.

_Gretchen._ Who was that you called a wildcat?

_Rip._ Who was dat I call a wildcat? Well, now, let me see, who was dat I called a wildcat? Dat must have been the time I came in the window dere, wasn't it? Yes, I know, it was the same time. Well, now, let me see. (_Suddenly._) It was de dog Schneider dat I call it.

_Gretchen._ The dog Schneider? That's a likely story.

_Rip._ Of course it is likely,--he's my dog. I'll call him a wildcat much as I please. (_Gretchen begins to weep._) Oh, well; dere, now, don't you cry, don't you cry, Gretchen; you hear what I said? Listen now. If you don't cry, I nefer drink anoder drop of liquor in my life.

_Gretchen._ O Rip, you have said so so many, many times, and you never kept your word yet.

_Rip._ Well, I say it dis time, und I mean it.

_Gretchen._ O Rip! if I could only trust you.

_Rip._ You mustn't _suspect_ me. Can't you see repentance in my eye?

_Gretchen._ Rip, if you will only keep your word, I shall be the happiest woman in the world.

_Rip._ You can believe it. I nefer drink anoder drop so long what I live, if you don't cry.

_Gretchen._ O Rip, how happy we shall be! And you'll get back all the village, Rip, just as you used to have it; and you'll fix up our little house so nicely; and you and I, and our darling little Meenie here--how happy we shall be!

_Rip._ Dere, dere, now! you can be just so happy what you like. Go in de odder room, go along mit you; I come in dere pooty quick. (_Exit Gretchen and Meenie._) My! I swore off from drinking so many, many times, und I never kept my word yet. (_Taking out bottle._) I don't believe dere is more as one good drink in dat bottle, anyway. It's a pity to waste it! You goin' to drink dat? Well, now, if you do, it is de last one, remember dat, old feller. Well, here is your good health, und----

(_Enter Gretchen, suddenly, who snatches the bottle from him._)

_Gretchen._ Oh, you paltry thief!

_Rip._ What you doin'? You'll spill the liquor.

_Gretchen._ Yes, I _will_ spill it. _That's the last drop you drink under my roof!_

_Rip._ Eh! What?

_Gretchen._ Out, I say! you drink no more here.

_Rip._ Why, Gretchen, are you goin' to turn me oud like a dog? Well, maybe you are right. I have got no home. I will go. But mind, Gretchen, after what you say to me to-night, I can nefer darken your door again--nefer; I will go.

_Meenie._ Not into the storm, father. Hark, how it thunders!

_Rip._ Yah, my child; but not as bad to me as the storm in my home. I will go. God bless you, my child! Don't you nefer forget your father.

_Gretchen_ (_relenting_). No, Rip,--I----

_Rip._ No; you have driven me from your house. You have opened the door for me to go. You may nefer open it for me to come back. I wipe the disgrace from your door. Good-by, Gretchen, good-by!

[_Rip exits into the storm._