Marie Thérèse Kemble.

Smiles and tears, or, The widow's stratagem: a comedy in five acts online

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those of my own self-accusing conscience ! but
by my regenerated heart I swear, that every fu-
ture hour of my life shall prove my truth, every
faculty of my soul be bent to repair the wrong*
that I have done you, and bring back peace and
comfort to your heart.

Cecil. Peace ! O, cast a look within yon cell,
behold my father, driven to madness by my guilt,
then tell me where a wretch like me should look
for peace ! That your sentiments have undergone
a change so conducive to your future welfare,



SMILES AND TEARS. 85

Heaven knows how truly I rejoice ! for me, I
have imposed a sacred duty upon myself, to
which every instant, every thought, must be assi-
duously dedicated to your protection I dare now
assign our child ; it would have eased my afflicted
heart to have wept over him sometimes ; but to
comfort I have no claim, and even that sorrowful
consolation I will forego for his advantage re-
ceive him, Delaval ! teach him to shun the vices
which have destroyed our happiness, and never,
Oh ! never let him know the wretched being to
whom he owes existence !

Lord G (Striking his forehead.) Fool 1 Fool !
what a treasure hast thou cast away !

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.

d Room in Stantys House.
Enter O'DONOLAN and Sir H. CHOMLEY.

O'Don. Had I not sworn to renounce all jea-
lousy for the future, I should feel inclined to give
way to something like ill-humour, during this
separation frotrfLady Emily ; and how you can
be so composed under your privation, is to me
marvellous ! I'm sure I shan't be able to keep my
temper long.

Sir Hen. I tell you what, my friend, 'tis a de-
vilish bad one, and the sooner you get rid of it
the better ; but the truth is, I am too happy to
be out of humour at any thing that can happen
and had you employed yourself as I have done,
you would have had no leisure for irritability
the secret of happiness, is occupation, and the true
art of attaching man or woman, the constant en-
deavour to make yourself useful take my word



86 SMILES AND TEARS.

for it, a woman of spirit soon grows tired of a fel-
low who can do nothing but languish and look
soft there's too little variety in sighs and groans;
for, when you have breathed your longest Oh !
you have reached your climax, and there's an end
of you.

O'Don. And how the devil can I help looking
soft! Well, that you should choose to walk into
a dirty lumber-room and tumble over fusty old
pictures and broken china, when you ought to
nave been elevated to the seventh heaven with
delight, is past my comprehension.

Sir Hen. I think it good policy to be concerned
as far as possible in every thing which gives plea-
sure to others ; and trifling as the circumstance
may appear, my having assisted in hunting out
the family pictures, if they should contribute to
Mr. Fitzharding's recovery, will not only ensure
me Lady Emily's good wishes, but 1 shall have
the satisfaction also of knowing, that I had some
little share in producing so desirable an event;
and I hope that's better than being, like you,
happy till you are quite miserable.

Enter Lady EMILY.

Lady E. Come, come ; every thing is in rea-
diness Fitzharding is arrived, and tho' hitherto
kept in total darkness, has been perfectly tran-
quilthe room that we have selected for our
scene of action, is, in every particular, restored
to the sarrie state it was in when he himself in-
habited this house. My own agitation is scarcely
less than that of Cecil j who, flushed with anxiety
and wild with hope, js looking mpre animatedly
beautiful than she could have done even in her
days of happiness pray come, for the moment
of trial is qt hand.



SMILES AND TEARS. 87

Q'Don. Are there no more tables and chairs to
move then ? Ah, now, can't / make myself use-
ful by taking some sort of trouble ?

Lady E. I am afraid not, Colonel ; so for the
present, you must content yourself with being
merely ornamental.

O'Don. O then, that will suit me to a hair ;
for sure I can be that without any trouble at all.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V,

A Room in Stanly's House, hung with Pictures ;
a full length of Cecil, playing upon the Harp
occupies the centre: it is covered by a green
Cur taint

FITZHARDING, SfANLY, Lady EMILY, Sir H.
CHOMLEY, Mrs. BELMORE, and O'DONOLAN,
discovered.

Fitz. Yes, I remember now, 'twas there^ on
summer evenings I used to sit with one, too
dearly loved, and watch the sun-beams sparkling
in the stream.

Sir Hen. And shall again, I hope, Sir.

Fitz. Never, never ; she was snatched from
me by the damned artifices of a human fiend
Oh ! never, never !

Stan, Stung by remorse, and eager to repair
the wrongs that he has done you he comes to
give her to your arms again, and crave your
blessing on their union.

Fitz. For shame, for shame ! falsehood but ill
becomes that silvered head.

Stan* By Heaven

M2



SS SMILES AND TEARS.

Fitz. You mock me, Sir ; I tell you she is
dead Poor Cecil 1 Cold ! cold ! cold !

Lady E. (Drawing back the curtain.) Has not
this portrait some resemblance to her ?

Fitz. Ha ! hide her, hide her ! she has shot
lightning thro* my veins ! and see, see, see, at her
command, the spirits of departed joys flit quickly
by, pointing .and grinning at me as they pass
Oh ! let me fly (as he is rushing off, she plays
and sings " Tears such as" &c.) Why, yes,
that voice! and yet, O, tell me, art thou real, or
sent by Hell to tantalize and torture me ?

Cecil. (Rising in the frame.) Oh! my belov-
ed father !

Fitz. (In extacy.) Ha ! 't is not illusion for
by the thick pulsation of my heart, I feel 't is she,
my long-lost child, my much-loved, erring, and
forgiven Cecil ! (They rush into each other's arms,
then Cecil falls at his feet, and embraces his knees).

Lady E. This is a spectacle, on which even
Heaven smiles Repentance, kneeling at the
feet of Mercy ! (Ths Curtain falls, and the Play
concludes}.



THfi END.



Undon : Printed by B.

t, Covatt C*rufc



IPILOGUE.

BY JAMES SMITH, ESQ.
SPOKEtf BY MR.LISTON, AS GOOSEQUILL THE POET,

Walks on disordered, then attempts to walk off.

They've fasten'd the door O Lord what shall I doi
I'll bolt thro' the other they've bolted that too !
I'm hoarse 1'rrHiysteric I can't speak a nofe!
I really feel quite a lump in my throat 1

I'm Goosequill the Poet Lord ! don't look so queer;
If you doubt I'm a Poet why only look here

[Shews his ragged elbow.]
I lodge in Fleet Street, where they sell sassafras,
You must know the shop it is lit up with gas
From cellar to garret ; my bed-room can't hide me-
When I put on my night-cap, the whole parish 'spied met

As my cash wasn't ready for next quarter-day,
Says I, " What's to be done ?" Says my wife, " Write a play,"
Oh Genius Dramatic ! thou sweetest of blisses j 1

It hits for a certain unless where it misses ! V

Ecod, its rare fun ! if it wasn't for hisses. ^

When my play was fair copied top-heavy with joy all,
I walk'd thro' the Strand to the Theatre Royal.
I chanced, in my ramble, a fine girl to see
I lik'd her of course, and, of course, she lik'd me.
I wanted to-kiss her the devil take gas !
My wife on the opposite side chanc'd to pass,
And seeing me, scream'd in a jezabel yell,
' O ho ! Mr. Goosequill ! that's you ! very well I"

I took to my heels, and to Bow Street came soon,
Where a poor girl was had up for stealing a spoon.
Her friends were in tears - f it was all six and seven -
There should have been twelve but she counted eleven.
The Justice was stern, and her heart seem'd to farther;
I didn't keep house, yet I offer'd to bail her,-
When a fur-coated buck, in a chimney-pot hat,
Cried, " Psha ! its the Maid and the Magpie, you fiat !"

How d'ye like Smiles and Tears? If you smile I'll be skittish
I'll dine at ihe Bedford ! FJ1 sup at the British !
I'll buy Mrs. Goosequill a Frenchified bonnet j
I'll walk to Blackheath but I mustn't walk on it !
I'm off! verbum sat ! Critics down with your rod :
If you damn Smiles and Tears, you will send me to quod,
I must quit my sky-parlour, to 'scape John Doe's clutches.
And bolt thro' the air like the Devil on Crutches I



REVISED BY MR. KEMBLE.



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Online LibraryMarie Thérèse KembleSmiles and tears, or, The widow's stratagem: a comedy in five acts → online text (page 6 of 6)