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_Cor._ What is it, for Jupiter's sake?
_Flip._ Something will make your heart chuck within you.
_Cor._ My dear Flippanta!
_Flip._ What do you think it is?
_Cor._ I don't know, nor I don't care, but I'm mad to have it.
_Flip._ It's a four-cornered thing.
_Cor._ What, like a cardinal's cap?
_Flip._ No, 'tis worth a whole conclave of 'em. How do you like it?
[_Showing the letter._
_Cor._ O Lard, a letter! Is there ever a token in it?
_Flip._ Yes, and a precious one too. There's a handsome young gentleman's heart.
_Cor._ A handsome young gentleman's heart! [_Aside._] Nay, then, it's time to look grave.
_Flip._ There.
_Cor._ I shan't touch it.
_Flip._ What's the matter now?
_Cor._ I shan't receive it.
_Flip._ Sure you jest.
_Cor._ You'll find I don't. I understand myself better than to take letters when I don't know who they are from.
_Flip._ I'm afraid I commended your wit too soon.
_Cor._ 'Tis all one, I shan't touch it, unless I know who it comes from.
_Flip._ Heyday, open it and you'll see.
_Cor._ Indeed I shall not.
_Flip._ Well--then I must return it where I had it.
_Cor._ That won't serve your turn, madam. My father must have an account of this.
_Flip._ Sure you are not in earnest?
_Cor._ You'll find I am.
_Flip._ So, here's fine work! This 'tis to deal with girls before they come to know the distinction of s.e.xes!
_Cor._ Confess who you had it from, and perhaps, for this once, I mayn't tell my father.
_Flip._ Why then, since it must out, 'twas the Colonel. But why are you so scrupulous, madam?
_Cor._ Because if it had come from anybody else--I would not have given a farthing for it.
[_s.n.a.t.c.hing it eagerly out of her hand._'
Farquhar has what Vanbrugh wants--individuality. He seems to identify himself with his favourite characters, the heedless, dissolute, but gentlemanly and good-hearted sparks about town whom he so delights to portray, and hence wins a firmer place in our affections than his wittier and in every way stronger rival, who might have been a comic automaton for any idea of his personality that we are able to form.
Whether the inevitable conception of Farquhar is really correct may be doubted; it is not in harmony with the few particulars which we possess of his manners and personal appearance. While reading him, nevertheless, one feels no doubt of the applicability to the author of the character of his Sir Harry Wildair, 'entertaining to others, and easy to himself, turning all pa.s.sion into gaiety of humour.' The plays answer the description of the personage; they are lively, rattling, entertaining, and the humour is certainly much in excess of the pa.s.sion. Serjeant Kite, in _The Recruiting Officer_, has become proverbial, otherwise no character has been recognized as an absolute creation, though almost all are natural and unaffected. _The Beaux' Stratagem_, his last play, is by common consent his best; it is a.s.suredly admirable, from the truth and variety of the characters, and the pervading atmosphere of adventurous gaiety. The separation between Mr. and Mrs. Sullen is a good specimen of Farquhar's _vis comica_:
'_Mrs. Sul._ Hold, gentlemen, all things here must move by consent, compulsion would spoil us; let my dear and I talk the matter over, and you shall judge it between us.
_Squire Sul._ Let me know first who are to be our judges. Pray, sir, who are you?
_Sir Chas._ I am Sir Charles Freeman, come to take away your wife.
_Squire Sul._ And you, good sir?
_Aim._ Charles Viscount Aimwell, come to take away your sister.
_Squire Sul._ And you, pray, sir?
_Arch._ Francis Archer, esquire, come----
_Squire Sul._ To take away my mother, I hope. Gentlemen, you're heartily welcome. I never met with three more obliging people since I was born!--And now, my dear, if you please, you shall have the first word.
_Arch._ And the last, for five pound!
_Mrs. Sul._ Spouse!
_Squire Sul._ Rib!
_Mrs. Sul._ How long have we been married?
_Squire Sul._ By the almanac, fourteen months; but by my account, fourteen years.
_Mrs. Sul._ 'Tis thereabout by my reckoning.
_Count Bel._ Garzoon, their account will agree.
_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, spouse, what did you marry for?