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Follies of a Day; OR, The Marriage of Figaro (English)

<h2 class="p2 nobreak" id="ACT_V">ACT V.</h2></div> SCENE, the Garden, With walks of cut trees in the back ground, and two Pavilions, one on each side of the stage. <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter AGNES. (A lanthorn in one hand, and two cakes and an orange in the other) </div> <ins class="corr" id="tn-90" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'speaker name missing'"> Agnes.</ins> The Pavilion to the left? Ay, that’s it.—But if he should not come soon!—He has not half learnt me my part yet—Poor thing, he hasn’t eat any thing all day; and the cross, good-for-nothing Cook would not give me a morsel for him; so I was obliged to ask the Butler for these Cakes and this Orange:—It cost me a good kiss on the cheek, but I know who’ll repay—Oh dear, here’s somebody coming!— <div class="blockquot"> Enter FIGARO, disguised in a red Rocquelaure; Doctor Bartholo, Don Guzman, Basil, Antonio. Figaro imagines at first Agnes to be Susan; and, as it is too dark to see, endeavours to follow the sound of her voice, having entered while she was speaking. Agnes enters the Pavilion on the left. </div> Figaro. I was mistaken, ’tis Agnes! (They all grope down the stage till they get round Figaro) What a clock is it? [91] Antonio. Almost near the moon’s rising. Basil. What a gloomy night. Doctor. We look like so many Conspirators. Figaro. You understand, Gentlemen, why you are come hither—It is to be Witnesses of the Conduct of the virtuous Bride I am soon to espouse, and the honourable Lord who has graciously bestowed her upon me. Basil. (Aside) This will be a precious Revenge. Doctor. Remember, Figaro, a wise Man has never any Contest with the Great; it is the Battle of Don Quixote with the Windmills; they whirl and dash you to a Distance, without once altering or retarding their Course. Figaro. Rather remember they have not courage to oppress any but Cowards. Doctor. He’s mad. Guzman. Ye-e-es, he is ma-a-ad. Antonio. But what about? Basil. A certain Rendezvous;—Come this way, and I’ll tell you the whole. Figaro. Hide yourselves hereabouts, and come running the Moment you hear me call. Doctor. He is turning Fool. Guzman. Ye-e-es, he’s turning foo-oo-ool—Stay and take ca-are of him. (Exeunt. <div class="blockquotxx"> Manent Figaro and Doctor. </div> <div class="omitted"> Figaro. “Oh Woman, Woman, Woman! Inconstant, weak, deceitful Woman!—But each Animal is obliged to follow the instinct of its Nature; and it is thine to betray!——What, after swearing this very Morning to remain for ever Faithful; and on the identical Day! The bridal Day!—— Doctor. “Patience. </div> [92] Figaro. “I even saw her laugh with Delight, while he read her Billet!——They think themselves secure, but perhaps they yet may be deceived.”——No, my very worthy Lord and Master, you have not got her yet.—What! Because you are a great Man, you fancy yourself a great Genius.—“Which way?—How came you to be the rich and mighty Count Almaviva? Why truly, you gave yourself the Trouble to be born! While the obscurity in which I have been cast demanded more Abilities to gain a mere Subsistence than are requisite to govern Empires. And what, most noble Count, are your Claims to Distinction, to pompous Titles, and immense Wealth, of which you are so proud, and which, by Accident, you possess? For which of your Virtues? Your Wisdom? Your Generosity? Your Justice?—The Wisdom you have acquired consists in vile Arts, to gratify vile Passions; your Generosity is lavished on your hireling Instruments, but whose Necessities make them far less Contemptible than yourself; and your Justice is the inveterate Persecution of <ins class="corr" id="tn-92" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'those who who have'"> those who have</ins> the Will and the Wit to resist your Depredations.” But this has ever been the Practice of the little Great; those they cannot degrade, they endeavour to crush. Doctor. Be advised, Figaro—be calm—there has ever been a Respect paid— Figaro. To Vice—where it is not due.—Shame light on them that pay it. Doctor. Consider, he is—— Figaro. A Lord—and I am—a Man!—Yes, I am a Man, but the nocturnal Spells of that enchantress Woman, soon shall make me a Monster. “Why, what an Ass am I!—Acting here the idiot part[93] of a (Strikes his forehead)—a—Husband—Altho’ I am but half finished.” <div class="blockquot"> (Agnes peers out of the Pavilion, and approaches a little way to listen.) </div> Agnes. Is that Hannibal? Doctor. I hear somebody! (Agnes hears the voice of the Doctor, and runs in again) I will retire, but if you are wise, you will wait the Event patiently; your suspicions may be unjust,—should they prove real, then shake her from you, as her Ingratitude deserves. (Exit. Figaro. “Oh, how easy it is for the prayer mumbling Priest to bid the Wretch on the Rack suffer patiently. (Figaro listens) I hear nothing—all is silent—and dark as their designs. (Figaro pulls off his Roquelaure, and throws it on a Garden-bench) Why, what a Destiny is mine—Am I for ever doom’d to be the foot-ball of Fortune?—Son of I knew not who, stol’n I knew not how, and brought up to I knew not what, lying and thieving excepted, I had the sense, tho’ young, to despise a life so base, and fled such infernal Tutors. My Genius, tho’ cramp’d, could not be totally subdued, and I spent what little time and money I could spare in Books and Study. Alas! it was but time and money thrown away. Desolate in the world, unfriended, unprotected, my poor stock of knowledge not being whip’d into me by the masculine hic hæc hoc hand of a School-master, I could not get Bread, much less Preferment.——Disheartened by the failure of all my projects, I yet had the audacity to attempt a Comedy, but as I had the still greater audacity to attack the favorite Vice of the favorite Mistress, of the favorite Footman of the favorite Minister, I could not get it licensed.—It happened about that time, that the fashionable Question of the day was an enquiry into the real[94] and imaginary Wealth of Nations; and, as it is not necessary to possess the thing you write about, I, with lank Cheeks, pennnyless Purse, and all the simplicity of a Boy, or a Philosopher, freely described the true causes of national Poverty: when suddenly I was awaken’d in my bed at Mid-night, and entrusted to the tender care of his Catholic Majesty’s Mirmidons, whose Magic-power caused the heavy gates of an old Castle to fly open at my approach, where I was graciously received, lodged, and ornamented, according to the fashion of the place, and provided with Straw, and Bread, and Water gratis. My ardor for Liberty sufficiently cool’d. I was once more turned adrift into the wide World, with leave to provide Straw and Bread and Water for myself.—On this my second birth, I found all Madrid in Raptures, concerning a most generous Royal Edict, lately published, in favor of the Liberty of the Press: and I soon learnt, that, provided I neither spoke of the Wealth of Nations in my writings, nor of the Government, nor of Religion, nor of any Corporate-Companies, nor offended the favorite Mistress of the Minister’s favorite Footman, nor said any one thing which could be twisted into a reference, or hint, derogatory to any one Individual, who had more powerful friends than I had, I was at liberty to write, freely, all, and whatever I pleased, under the inspection of some two or three Censors!——Soon after this, a Place happened to be vacant, which required a person well acquainted with Calculation; I offered my Services; my Abilities were not questioned; I waited, in anxious expectation of the Event, and, in three days, learnt it had been bestowed, two days before, upon a Dancing-master.—Persecuted[95] by Creditors, tired of starving, and unable, through the feebleness of Youth to sustain so unequal a Struggle, I had the weakness, at last, to sink before Temptation, and set up a Pharaoh Bank. And now, for once, behold the Scene changed! See me equally familiar with Lords as with their Lacquies! Every door was open to me! Every hand held out! But, notwithstanding my desire to be Something in this world, my detestation of the brazen Effrontery, profound Ignorance, and insupportable Insolence of these fashionable Friends of Nobility was so innate that I found I could better endure all the Miseries of Poverty than the Disgrace and Disgust of such Society.—Quitting, therefore, with contempt this new Trade, and leaving false Shame behind me, as a burthen too heavy for a Foot-passenger, I once more took up my strap and hone, and travelled for employment from Town to Town.——At Seville I found a Lord mad to marry his Mistress; my Wit procured him what his could not, a Wife; and, in return, he gratefully endeavours to Seduce mine—Strange concatenation of circumstance! My Parents all at once claim me!—’Tis he, ’tis she, ’tis me, ’tis—I don’t know who!—I came into the world without my Knowledge, and I shall go out on’t without my Will; and thus do I continue to torment myself about this Being of mine, without understanding what this Being is, what it was, what it shall be, whence it came, where it is, or whither it shall go.—I only know it to be a compound of Contradictions! A little, wise, foolish Animal, ardent in the pursuit of Pleasure, capricious through Vanity, laborious from Necessity, but[96] indolent by Choice. After having exhausted every Art for enjoyment, and every Profession for a livelihood, I found myself intoxicated by a heavenly Illusion, that has vanish’d at my approach!—Vanished!—And is it vanish’d?”—Oh Susan! Susan! <div class="blockquot"> (Figaro sinks melancholy upon the garden-seat; but being suddenly roused by a noise, wraps himself up in his Rocquelaure. </div> <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter softly, in each other’s dress, the COUNTESS and SUSAN, followed by MARCELINA. </div> Susan. So Figaro is to be here. (In an under voice) Marcelina. He is here. Susan. Thus one is come to lay the Springe, and the other to seize the Game. Marcelina. I will go and hide myself in this Pavilion, where I shall hear all. (Exit into the Pavilion on the left.) Susan. We may begin. (Speaks louder) If my Lady does not want me, I will walk and enjoy the fresh air. Figaro. Oh, the Cocatrice. Countess. It may give thee cold. Susan. Oh no, my Lady. Figaro. Oh no! She’ll not take cold to-night. (Aside). <div class="blockquot"> Susan retires a little towards the Pavilion on the left; Hannibal is heard singing, and, as he enters, perceives the Countess, in Susan’s dress. </div> Page. Is that Agnes, yonder? (He approaches)[97] By her long Lappets and white Feathers, it must be Susan. (Comes up and takes hold of the Countess’s hand. Ah, my dear Susan! Countess. Let me go. (In a feigned voice.) Page. Come, Come; don’t be so coy. I know it is not Figaro you are waiting for, it is my Lord the Count—What! Did not I hear, this Morning, when I was behind the great Chair? Susan. (Aside). The babbling little Villain. <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter the COUNT behind, and hears the Page. </div> Count. Is not that somebody with Susan?—(Advances close up to them, and draws back in a fury).—’Tis that infernal Page again. (Susan keeps out of the way and silently laughing.) Page. ’Tis in vain to say no:—Since thou art going to be the Representative of the Countess, I am determined to give the one kiss for thyself, and a hundred for thy beauteous Lady. Susan. (Aside). “As impudent as a Page, says the Proverb.” <div class="blockquot"> (The Countess draws back to avoid being kissed by the Page, and the Count advances and presents himself in her place; the Page feels the rough beard of the Count, and suddenly retreats, crying in an under voice)—Oh, the Devil!—The Count again! </div> (Exit Page into the Pavilion on the left.) <div class="blockquot"> (While this passes, Figaro likewise advances to drive the Page from Susan; meanwhile the Count, on the Page’s supposed next approach, prepares to give him a proper reception). </div> Count. (Thinking he speaks to the Page). Since you are so fond of kissing, take that. (Gives Figaro a severe box on the ear). [98] Figaro. I have paid for listening. (Susan cannot contain herself, but bursts out a laughing). Count. (Hears her laugh). Why this is inconceiveable!—Do such Salutations make the impudent Rascal laugh? Figaro. It would be strange if he should cry this time. (Aside). (Count and Countess approach). Count. But let us not lose the precious moments, my charming Susan!—Let these Kisses speak my ardour! (Kisses the Countess several times with rapture). Figaro. (Aside, and beating his forehead). Oh! Oh! Oh! Count. Why dost thou tremble? Countess. (Continuing her feigned voice). Because I am afraid. Count. Thou seemest to have got a cold. (Takes the Countess’s hand between his own, and amorously strokes and kisses her fingers). What a sweet, delicate, Angel’s hand!—How smooth and soft!—How long and small the fingers!—What pleasure in the touch!—Ah! How different is this from the Countess’s hand!— Countess. (Sighing). And yet you loved her once. Count. Yes—Yes—I did so—But three Years of better Acquaintance has made the Marriage-state so respectable—And then Wives are so loving—when they do love, that is—that one is surprised when in search of Pleasure, to find Satiety. Countess. Pleasure?—Love! Count. Oh, no; Love is but the Romance of the Heart; Pleasure is its History—As for thee, my dear Susan, add but one grain more of Caprice[99] to thy Composition and thou wilt make one of the most enticing, teazing, agreeable Mistresses. Countess. ’Tis my Duty to oblige my Lord. Figaro. Her Duty!— Count. Yes—Women’s Duties are unlimited—They owe all—Men nothing. Countess. Nothing? Count. It is not our Faults; ’tis the law of Nature—And then Wives think to ensure our fidelity by being always Wives—Whereas they should sometimes become—— Countess. What? Count. Our Mistresses——I hope thou wilt not forget this Lesson. Countess. Oh no, indeed, not I. Susan. (Aloud). Nor I. Figaro. (Aloud). Nor I. Count. (Astonished). Are there Echoes here? Countess. Oh, yes. Count. And now, my sweet Susan, receive the Portion I promised thee. (Gives a purse and puts a ring upon her finger)—And continue likewise to wear this Ring for my sake. Countess. Susan accepts your Favors. Figaro. (Aside). Was there ever so faithless a Hussey? Susan. (Aside). These riches are all for us! (Still keeps chuckling very heartily at what is going forwards.) Countess. I perceive Torches. Count. They are preparatory to thy Nuptials. (the Countess pretends to be afraid). Come, come, let us retire for a moment into the Pavilion. Countess. What! In the dark? Count. Why not? There are no Spirits. Figaro. (Aside). Yes, but there are; and evil ones[100] too. (Countess follows the Count). She is going!——Hem! (Figaro hem’s in a great passion). Count. (Raising his voice majesterially). Who goes there! Figaro. A man. Count. (Aside to the Countess). It’s Figaro! <div class="blockquot"> (The Countess enters the Pavilion on the right hand and the Count retires). </div> Figaro. (Desperate). They are gone in. (Walks about). Let her go.—Let her go! Susan. (Aside.) Thou shalt pay presently for these fine Suspicions. (Susan advances and mimics the voice of the Countess). Who is that? Figaro. ’Tis the Countess (Aside).—What lucky Chance conducted you hither, Madam—You know not what Scenes are this moment transacting. Susan. Oh yes, but I do, Figaro. Figaro. What! That the Count and my very virtuous Bride are this moment in yonder Pavilion Madam! Susan. (Aside). Very well, my Gentleman!—I know more than thou dost. Figaro. And will you not be revenged? Susan. Oh yes, we always have our Revenge in our own power. Figaro. (Aside). What does she mean?—Perhaps what I suspect—Why that would be a glorious Retaliation.—(To Susan.) There is no Means but one, Madam, of revenging such Wrongs; that now presents itself. Susan. (Jealous) What does the good-for-nothing Fellow mean? (Speaks in a tone of compliance to Figaro). Does it Figaro? Figaro. Pardon my Presumption, Madam! On any other occasion, the Respect I bear your Ladyship would keep me silent, but on the present I dare encounter all! (Falls on his knees). Oh, excuse,[101] forgive me, Madam; but let not the precious moments slip!—Grant me your hand. Susan. (Unable any longer to contain herself gives him a slap on the face). Take it. Figaro. I have it, I think!—The Devil! This is the Day of Stripes! Susan. Susan gives it thee (as soon as Figaro hears it is Susan, his satisfaction is so extreme, he laughs very heartily, and keeps laughing all the while she keeps beating him) and that, and that, and that, and that for thy Insolence—And that for thy Jealousy—And that for thy Infidelity. (Susan out of breath, Figaro still laughing.) Figaro. Oh happy Figaro—Take thy Revenge, my dear, kind, good Angel; Never did Man or Martyr suffer with such Extacy! Susan. Don’t tell me of your Extacy! How durst you, you good for nothing, base, false-hearted Man, make love to me, supposing me the Countess. Figaro. I must bring myself off, (aside)—Dost think I could mistake the music of my Susan’s Voice? Susan. What, you pretend you knew me then? Figaro. Pretend! Canst thou doubt it? Susan. And this was a Trick upon me!—But I’ll be revenged. Figaro. Talk not of Revenge, my Love, but tell me what blest Angel sent thee hither, and how thou camest by this Disguise, which so fully proves thy Innocence! <div class="omitted"> Susan. “I could find in my Heart not to tell thee; but know, to thy Confusion, it is my Lady’s; and that, coming to catch one Fox, we have entrapped two! Figaro. “But who has taken the other? Susan. “His Wife. [102] Figaro. “His Wife!—Go and hang thyself, Figaro—Go and hang thyself, for wanting the Wit to divine this Plot!—And has all this intriguing been about his Wife? Susan. “Yes, about his Wife. Figaro. (a little suspicious) “But who did the Page kiss? Susan. “The Count. Figaro. “The Count! Ha! ha! ha! that is excellent, (Resuming his gravity) But who did the Count kiss? Susan. “The Countess. Figaro. “Ay, but who did he kiss this Morning——behind the great Chair? Susan. (Gravely) “Nobody. Figaro. “Art thou—quite sure?” </div> Susan. (Holding out her Hand) Dost thou want another Proof? Figaro. Ah! Thine are but proofs of Love—That of the Count, indeed, was not so gentle. <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter COUNT behind. </div> Count. ’St—’st! Susan!—Susan! Figaro. (Aside to Susan) A lucky thought strikes me; prithee second me, Susan, (Speaks in a feigned Voice, falls on his Knees and kisses Susan’s Hand)—Ah Madam! Let us not longer converse of Love, but enjoy it’s Treasures. Count. What’s here! A Man on his Knees to the Countess!—(Feels for his Sword, they keep silently laughing) And I unarm’d! Figaro. (Acting the Petit Maitre) Upon my honour, Madam, I could not have supposed Timidity should make you hesitate a moment. [103] Count. (Furiously) So this is our Dressing-room Gentleman, at last! I shall know all at least, now—(Figaro kisses her hand again.) Oh Rage! Oh Hell! Susan. How delightfully he swears. Figaro. (Figaro and Susan still inwardly laughing) Quickly then, Madam, let us repair the wrong which Love this Morning suffered at the impertinent intrusion of your Lord. Count. This is not to be borne. <div class="blockquot"> (Darts between them, seizes Figaro by the Collar, while Susan escapes into the Pavilion on the left.) </div> Figaro (Pretends amazement) My Lord! Count. How! Rascal! And is it you!—Hollo—Hollo—Who hears? <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter blundering in the dark, and in a great hurry, the COURIER, who had been to Seville after the Page. </div> Courier. Here!—Here!—Here am I, my Lord! Just arrived from Seville! But he is not there! I might as well have sought for this Page in my pocket! Here is the Packet again. Count. Stand out of the way, Rascal——Hollo!—Where are my People? Lights! Lights! Courier. What’s my Lord afraid of? Is there not Mr. Figaro and I? <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter Flambeaux, Don GUZMAN, Dr. BARTHOLO, ANTONIO, BASIL, and Servants. </div> Count. (To the Servants) Guard that Door and some of you seize this Fellow. Figaro. You command, with absolute Authority, over all present, my Lord, except yourself. <div class="omitted"> Count. “The Villain’s impenetrable, cool Impudence is intolerable. [104] Figaro. “We are not Soldiers, that we should kill one another without Malice: for my part, I like to know why I am angry.” </div> Count. Be pleased, Sir, to declare, before this Company, who the—the—Woman is that just now ran into that Pavilion. Figaro. Into that—(Going to cross to the Pavilion on the right.) Count. (Stopping him) No, prevaricating Fiend; into that. (Pointing to the other.) Figaro. Ah! That alters the Case. Count. Answer, or— <div class="omitted"> Figaro. “The Lady that escaped into that Pavilion? Count. “Ay, Demon, the Lady.” </div> Figaro. The Lady “that escaped into that Pavilion,” is a young Lady to whom my Lord once paid his Addresses, but who, happening to love me more than my Betters, has this day yielded me the Preference. Count. The Preference!—The Preference!—he does not lie at least.——Yes, Gentlemen, what he confesses, I pledge my Honour I just have heard from the very mouth of his Accomplice! Guzman. His Accomplice! Count. Come forth, Madam! (Enters the Pavilion.) Basil. Which of these two has made a—Gentleman of the other. Figaro. Perhaps neither. Count. (In the Pavilion.) Come forth, I say, shew yourself. (Enter, dragging out the PAGE, still speaking, and not looking at him till he gets on a line with the rest of the Company.) Happily, Madam, there is no Pledge of a Union, now so justly detested.—— [105] Omnes. The Page! Guzman. (After all the rest.) The Pa-a-age! Count. Again! And again! And everlastingly this damn’d, diabolical Page. (Page flies to the other side of the stage.) You shall find, however, he was not alone. Page. Ah, no! My lot would have been hard indeed then. Count. Enter Antonio, and drag the guilty Thing before her Judge. Antonio. (In the Pavilion.) Come, Madam, you must come out; I must not let you go since my Lord knows you are here. <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter with his Daughter, AGNES. </div> Omnes. Agnes! Guzman. A-A-Agnes! Antonio. Odzooks, my Lord, its a pleasant Trick, enough, to send me in, before all these good Folks, for my Daughter. Count. I’ll find her, I warrant. (Going.) Doctor. (Stopping the Count.) Pardon me, my Lord, but you are too angry at present; let me go. (Exit Doctor to the Pavilion.) Guzman. This Cause is very perplex’d. Doctor. (Entering with Marcelina.) Fear nothing, Madam, fear nothing. Omnes. Marcelina! Figaro. My Mother too! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! Count. Where then is this Daughter of Infamy thus evades my just Fury? <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter SUSAN, with her Fan before her face. </div> Here she comes, at last; bearing her own Shame and my Dishonour. (Susan kneels to him, still hiding her Face.) [106] Omnes. Pardon, pardon, gracious Lord! Count. No! No! No! (They all fall on their knees.) No! No! Were the World to kneel I would be deaf. <div class="blockquotxx"> Enter the COUNTESS from the Pavilion on the right, and kneels to the Count, whose back is turned to her. </div> Countess. At least I will make one of the Number. <div class="blockquot"> (Susan drops her fan, the Count hears the voice of the Countess, looks round, and suddenly conceives the whole Trick they have been playing him. All the Company burst into a laugh: the Count’s shame, confusion, &c.) </div> Guzman. (Laughing stupidly) Ha! ha! ha! ha! ’Tis the Countess! Count. (With great humility.) And—is it you my Lady? Countess. (Inclines her body in token of Affirmation.) Count. (Returning her bow with great confusion.) Ah!—Yes!—Yes! A generous pardon—tho’ unmerited.—— Countess. Were you in my place, you would exclaim, No! No! No! But I grant it without a single Stipulation. Susan. And I. Figaro. And I.—There are Echoes here. Count. (Surprised) I perceive—I perceive——I have been rightly served. Countess. Here, Susan, here is the Purse and Ring, which my Lord gave thee. He will remember thy sweet delicate Fingers, so long and so small. Susan. Thank your Lordship—Here Figaro. (Gives him the Purse. Figaro. It was devilish hard to get at— Count. (To Susan) And the Letter you wrote— Susan. Was dictated by my Lady. [107] Count. (Smiling good naturedly.) Well, well! I am an Answer in her Debt. Figaro. Thus every Man shall have his own. Bounce. And shall we throw the Stocking? Countess. There is the Garter. <div class="blockquot"> (Throws down the Riband Hannibal had stolen in the Morning; Bounce is going to stoop for it, and the Page pushes him back.) </div> Page. This is my Right, and if any one dare dispute it with me—— Count. Indeed! Mr. Officer—So bold a Champion already!—Pray how did your Valour like the Box on the Ear I gave you just now? Page. (With his Hand to his Sword) Me! My Colonel? Figaro. Which I kindly received. Count. Thou! Figaro. I—And thus do the Great distribute Justice. Count. (laughing) Well, Mr. President, (Don Guzman instantly calls up all his Wisdom on finding himself addressed) what do you think of all these things? Guzman. Thi-ink, my Lord? (Considers) I—I think that—I do-o-on’t know what to think. Figaro. I think, a few such Days as this would form an excellent Ambassador—But lately I was a poor, deserted, solitary Being, in this wide World, and now I have Gold, Relations, and a handsome Wife—— Doctor. And Friends will flock in abundance. Figaro. Do you think so? Doctor. Oh I know so. Figaro. Well, let them, they shall be welcome to all I have—My Wife and my Wealth excepted. [108] Susan. <div class="poetry-container"> <div class="poetry"> <div class="verse indent0">Our Errors past, and all our Follies done,</div> <div class="verse indent0">Oh! That ’twere possible you might be won</div> <div class="verse indent0">To pardon Faults, and Misdemeanors smother,</div> <div class="verse indent0">With the same ease we pardon One-another!</div> <div class="verse indent0">So should we rest, To-night, devoid of Sorrow,</div> <div class="verse indent0">And hope to meet you, joyously, To-morrow.</div> </div></div> THE END. </div> <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /></div> <div class="transnote"> TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE A few obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources. Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. Pg 10: Speaker name ‘Marcelino’ replaced by ‘Marcelina’. Pg 17: ‘Gardiner’s daughter’ replaced by ‘Gardener’s daughter’. Pg 17: ‘my drunken Gardiner’ replaced by ‘my drunken Gardener’. Pg 18: ‘wish hm so much’ replaced by ‘wish him so much’. Pg 21: ‘young Hanibal the’ replaced by ‘young Hannibal the’. Pg 25: ‘COUNTESS’s Bed-Chmber’ replaced by ‘COUNTESS’s Bed-Chamber’. Pg 27: ‘by the Pavillion’ replaced by ‘by the Pavilion’. Pg 29: ‘will not, Marcellina’ replaced by ‘will not, Marcelina’. Pg 43: ‘you malicicious little’ replaced by ‘you malicious little’. Pg 45: ‘the Gardiner, with’ replaced by ‘the Gardener, with’. Pg 48: ‘and eadeavours to’ replaced by ‘and endeavours to’. Pg 50: Speaker name ‘Antanio’ replaced by ‘Antonio’. Pg 64: ‘Angelica-Mustacio’ replaced by ‘Angelica-Mustachio’. Pg 64: ‘Gentleman who are’ replaced by ‘Gentlemen who are’. Pg 66: ‘Again, the the word’ replaced by ‘Again, the word’. Pg 76: ‘honest ple’ replaced by ‘honest people’. Pg 83: ‘Girl, ealed with’ replaced by ‘Girl, sealed with’. Pg 90: Missing speaker name ‘Agnes’ inserted. Pg 92: ‘those who who have’ replaced by ‘those who have’. </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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