PROMPTER. Gentlemen, you must make room, for the curtain must be let down, to prepare the auction-room.
MEDLEY. My lord, I believe you will be best before the curtain, for we have but little room behind, and a great deal to do.
SOURWIT . Upon my word, Mr. Medley, I must ask you the same question which one of your ladies did just now; what do you intend to sell at this auction, the whole stock in trade of some milliner or mercer who has left off business?
MEDLEY. Sir, I intend to sell such things as were never sold in any auction before, nor ever will again: I can assure you, Mr. Sourwit, this scene, which I look on as the best in the whole performance, will require a very deep attention; sir, if you should take one pinch of snuff during the whole scene, you will lose a joke by it, and yet they lie pretty deep too, and may escape observation from a moderate understanding, unless very closely attended to.
SOURWIT. I hope, however, they don’t lie as deep as the dumb gentleman’s politics did in the first act; if so, nothing but an inspired understanding can come at ‘em.
MEDLEY. Sir, this scene is writ in allegory; and though I have endeavoured to make it as plain as possible, yet all allegory will require a strict attention to be understood, sir.
PROMPTER. Sir, every thing is ready.
MEDLEY. Then draw up the curtain — Come, enter Mrs. Screen and Mrs. Barter.
THE AUCTION.
SCENE. — An Auction Room, a Pulpit and Forms placed, and several people walking about, some seated near the Pulpit.
Enter MRS. SCREEN and MRS. BARTER.
MRS. SCREEN. Dear Mrs. Barter!
MRS. BARTER. Dear madam, you are early to-day?
MRS. SCREEN. Oh, if one does not get near the pulpit, one does nothing, and I intend to buy a great deal to-day. I believe I shall buy the whole auction, at least if things go cheap; you won’t bid against me?
MRS. BARTER. You know I never bid for any thing.
Enter BANTER and DANGLE.
BANTER. That’s true, Mrs. Barter, I’ll be your evidence.
MRS. SCREEN. Are you come? now I suppose we shall have fine bidding; I don’t expect to buy cheaper than at a shop.
BANTER. That’s unkind, Mrs. Screen, you know I never bid against you: it would be cruel to bid against a lady who frequents auctions only with a design one day or other to make one great auction of her own. No, no, I will not prevent the filling your warehouse; I assure you, I bid against no haberdashers of all wares.
MRS. BARTER. You are a mighty civil person, truly.
BANTER. You need not take up the cudgels, madam, who are of no more consequence at an auction than a mayor at a sessions; you only come here, where you have nothing to do, to show people you have nothing to do any where else.
MRS. BANTER. I don’t come to say rude things to all the world as you do.
BANTER. No, the world may thank Heaven, that did not give you wit enough to do that.
MRS. SCREEN. Let him alone, he will have his jest.
MRS. BARTER. You don’t think I mind him, I hope; but pray, sir, of what great use is your friend Mr. Dangle here?
BANTER. Oh, he is of very great use to all women of understanding.
DANGLE. Ay, of what use am I, pray?
BANTER. To keep ‘em at home, that they may not hear the silly things you say to ‘em.
MRS. SCREEN. I hope, Mr. Banter, you will not banish all people from places where they are of no consequence; you will allow ‘em to go to an assembly, or a masquerade, without either playing, dancing, or intriguing; you will let people go to an opera without any ear, to a play without any taste, and to a church without any religion?
Enter MR. HEN, Auctioneer (bowing).
MRS. SCREEN. Oh! dear Mr. Hen, I am glad you are come, you are horrible late to-day.
HEN. Madam, I am just mounting the pulpit; I hope you like the catalogue, ladies?
MRS. SCREEN. There are some good things here, if you are not too dilatory with your hammer.
BANTER. Boy, give me a catalogue?
HEN. [In the pulpit.] I dare swear, gentlemen and ladies, this auction will give general satisfaction; it is the first of its kind which I ever had the honour to exhibit, and I believe I may challenge the world to produce some of the curiosities which this choice cabinet contains: A catalogue of curiosities, which were collected by the indefatigable pains of that celebrated virtuoso, Peter Humdrum, Esq., which will be sold by auction by Christopher Hen, on Monday, the 21st day of March, beginning at Lot 1. Gentlemen and ladies, this is Lot 1. A most curious remnant of Political
HONESTY. Who puts it up, gentlemen? It will make you a very good cloak, you see it’s both sides alike, so you may turn it as often as you will — Come, five pounds for this curious remnant: I assure you several great men have made their birthday suits out of the same piece — It will wear for ever, and never be the worse for wearing — Five pounds is bid — nobody more than five pounds for this curious piece of Political Honesty, five pounds, no more — [knocks] Lord Both-Sides. Lot 2. A most delicate piece of Patriot-ism gentlemen. Who bids? ten pounds for this piece of Patriotism?
1 COURTIER. I would not wear it for a thousand pounds.
HEN. Sir, I assure you, several gentlemen at court have worn the same; it’s quite a different thing within to what it is without.
1 COURTIER. Sir, it is prohibited goods, I sha’n’t run the risk of being brought into Westminster Hall for wearing it.
HEN. You take it for the Old Patriotism, whereas it is indeed like that in nothing but the cut; but alas! sir, there is a great difference in the stuff — But, sir, I don’t propose this for a town-suit, this is only proper for the country; consider, gentlemen, what a figure this will make at an election — Come, five pounds — One guinea — put Patriotism by.
BANTER. Ay, put it by, one day or other it may be in fashion.
HEN. Lot 3. Three grains of Modesty: Come, ladies, consider how scarce this valuable commodity is.
MRS. SCREEN. Yes, and out of fashion too, Mr. Hen.
HEN. I ask your pardon, madam, it is true French, I assure you, and never changes colour on any account — Half a crown for all this Modesty — Is there not one lady in the room who wants any Modesty?
1 LADY. Pray, sir, what is it? for I can’t see it at this distance.
HEN. It cannot be seen at any distance, madam, but it is a beautiful powder which makes a fine wash for the complexion.
MRS. SCREEN. I thought you said it was true French, and would not change the colour of the skin?
HEN. No, it will not, madam; but it serves mighty well to blush behind a fan with, or to wear under a lady’s mask at a masquerade — What, nobody bid — Well, lay Modesty aside. Lot 4. One bottle of Courage formerly in the possession of Lieutenant-Colonel Ezekiel Pipkin, citizen, alderman and tallow-chandler — What, is there no officer of the trained-bands here? Or it will serve an officer of the army as well in time of peace, nay, even in war, gentlemen; it will serve all of you who sell out.
1 OFFICER. Is the bottle whole? is there no crack in it?
HEN. None, sir, I assure you; though it has been in many engagements in Tothill Fields; nay, it has served a campaign or two in Hyde Park, since the alderman’s death — it will never waste while you stay at home, but it evaporates immediately if carried abroad.
1 OFFICER. Damn me, I don’t want it; but a man can’t have too much Courage — Three shillings for it.
HEN. Three shillings are bid for this bottle of Courage.
1 BEAU. Four.
BANTER. What do you bid for Courage for?
1 BEAU. Not for myself, but I have a commission to buy it for a lady.
1 OFFICER. Five.
HEN. Five shillings, five shillings for all this Courage; nobody more than five shillings? [Knocks] your name, sir?
1 OFFICER. Mackdonald O’Thunder.
HEN. Lot 5, and Lot 6. All the Wit lately belonging to Mr. Hugh Pantomime, composer of entertainments for the play-houses, and Mr. William Goosequil, compose
r of political papers in defence of a ministry; shall I put up these together?
BANTER. Ay, it is a pity to part them. Where are they?
HEN. Sir, in the next room, where any gentleman may see them, but they are too heavy to bring in; there are near three hundred volumes in folio.
BANTER. Put them by, who the devil would bid for them unless he was the manager of some house or other? The town has paid enough for their works already.
HEN. Lot 7. A very clear Conscience, which has been worn by a judge and a bishop.
MRS. SCREEN. Is it as clean as if it was new?
HEN. Yes, no dirt will stick to it, and pray observe how capacious it is; it has one particular quality; put as much as you will into it, it is never full; come, gentlemen, don’t be afraid to bid for this, for whoever has it will never be poor.
BEAU. One shilling for it.
HEN. O fie, sir, I am sure you want it, for if you had any Conscience, you would put it up at more than that: come, fifty pound for this Conscience.
BANTER. I’ll give fifty pound to get rid of my Conscience, with all my heart.
HEN. Well, gentlemen, I see you are resolved not to bid for it, so I’ll lay it by: come, Lot 8, a very considerable quantity of Interest at Court; come, a hundred pound for this Interest at Court.
OMNES. For me, Mr. Hen!
HEN. A hundred pound is bid in a hundred places, gentlemen.
BEAU. TWO hundred pound.
HEN. TWO hundred pound, two hundred and fifty, three hundred pound, three hundred and fifty, four hundred, five hundred, six hundred, a thousand; a thousand pound is bid, gentlemen; nobody more than a thousand pounds for this Interest at Court? nobody more than one thousand?
[knocks] Mr. Littlewit.
BANTER. Damn me, I know a shop where I can buy it for less.
LORD DAPPER. Egad, you took me in, Mr. Medley, I could not help bidding for it.
MEDLEY. It’s a sure sign it’s nature, my lord, and I should not be surprised to see the whole audience stand up and bid for it too.
HEN. All the Cardinal Virtues, Lot 9. Come, gentlemen, put in these Cardinal Virtues.
GENTLEMEN. Eighteen pence.
HEN. Eighteen pence is bid for these Cardinal Virtues; nobody more than eighteen pence? Eighteen pence for all these Cardinal Virtues, nobody more? All these Virtues, gentlemen, are going for eighteen pence; perhaps there is not so much more Virtue in the world, as here is, and all going for eighteen pence: [knocks] your name, sir?
GENTLEMAN. Sir, there’s a mistake; I thought you had said a Cardinal’s Virtues; ‘sblood, sir, I thought to have bought a pennyworth; here’s Temperance and Chastity, and a pack of stuff that I would not give three farthings for.
HEN. Well, lay ‘em by: Lot 10, and Lot 11, a great deal of Wit, and a little Common-sense.
BANTER. Why do you put up these together? they have no relation to each other.
HEN. Well, the Sense by itself then: Lot 10, a little Common-sense — I assure you, gentlemen, tins is a very valuable commodity; come, who puts it in?
MEDLEY. You observe, as valuable as it is, nobody bids. I take this, if I may speak in the style of a great writer, to be a most emphatical silence; you see, Mr. Sourwit, no one speaks against this lot, and the reason nobody bids for it, is because every one thinks he has it.
HEN. Lay it by, I’ll keep it myself: Lot 12.
[Drum beats.
SOURWIT . Heyday! What’s to be done now, Mr. Medley?
MEDLEY. Now, sir, the sport begins.
Enter a GENTLEMAN laughing. [Huzza within.
BANTER. What’s the matter?
GENTLEMAN. There’s a sight without would kill all mankind with laughing: Pistol is run mad, and thinks himself a great man, and he’s marching through the streets with a drum and fiddles.
BANTER. Please heaven, I’ll go and see this sight. [Exit.
OMNES. And so will I. [Exeunt.
HEN. Nay, if every one else goes, I don’t know why I should stay behind.
LORD DAPPER. Mr. Sourwit, we’ll go too.
MEDLEY. If your lordship will have but a little patience till the scene be changed, you shall see him on the stage.
SOURWIT . Is not this jest a little over-acted?
MEDLEY. I warrant, we don’t over-act him half so much as he does his parts; though ‘Tis not so much his acting capacity which I intend to exhibit as his ministerial.
SOURWIT . His ministerial.
MEDLEY. Yes, sir; you may remember I told you before my rehearsal that there was a strict resemblance between the states political and theatrical; there is a ministry in the latter as well as the former; and I believe as weak a ministry as any poor kingdom could ever boast of; parts are given in the latter to actors, with much the same regard to capacity, as places in the former have sometimes been, in former ages I mean; and though the public damn both, yet while they both receive their pay, they laugh at the public behind the scenes; and if one considers the plays that come from one part, and the writings from the other, one would be apt to think the same authors were retained in both. But come, change the scene into the street, and then enter Pistol cum suis — Hitherto, Mr. Sourwit, as we have had only to do with inferior characters, such as beaus and tailors, and so forth, we have dealt in the prosaic; now we are going to introduce a more considerable person, our muse will rise in her style: now, sir, for a taste of the sublime. Come, enter Pistol. [Drum teats, and Fiddles play.
Enter PISTOL and Mob.
PISTOL. Associates, brethren, countrymen, and friends,
Partakers with us in this glorious enterprise,
Which for our consort we have undertaken;
It grieves us much, yes, by the gods it does!
That we whose great ability and parts
Have raised us to this pinnacle of power,
Entitling us prime minister theatrical;
That we should with an upstart of the stage
Contend successless on our consort’s side;
But though by just hereditary right
We claim a lawless power, yet for some reasons
Which to ourself we keep as yet concealed;
Thus to the public deign we to appeal:
Behold how humbly the great Pistol kneels.
Say then, Oh Town, is it your royal will
That my great consort represent the part
Of Polly Peachum in the Beggar’s Opera? — [Mob hiss.
Thanks to the town, that hiss speaks their assent;
Such was the hiss that spoke the great applause
Our mighty father met with, when he brought
His riddle on the stage; such was the hiss
Welcomed his Cæsar to th’ Egyptian shore;
Such was the hiss in which great John should have expired:
But, wherefore do I try in vain to number
Those glorious hisses, which from age to age
Our family has borne triumphant from the stage?
MEDLEY. Get thee gone for the prettiest hero that ever was shown on any stage. [Exit Pistol.
SOURWIT . Short and sweet, faith; what, are we to have no more of him?
MEDLEY. Ay, ay, sir: he’s only gone to take a little breath.
LORD DAPPER. If you please, sir, in the mean time, we’ll go take a little fire, for ‘Tis confounded cold upon the stage.
MEDLEY. I wait upon your lordship: stop the rehearsal a few moments, we’ll be back again instantly. [Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter MEDLEY, SOURWIT , and LORD DAPPER.
MEDLEY. NOW, my lord, for my modern Apollo: come, make all things ready, and draw the scene as soon as you can.
SOURWIT . Modern, why modern? You common-place satirists are always endeavouring to persuade us that the age we live in is worse than any other has been, whereas mankind have differed very little since the world began; forgone age has been as bad as another.
MEDLEY. Mr. Sourwit, I do not deny that men have been always bad enough; vic
e and folly are not the invention of our age; but I will maintain, that what I intend to ridicule in the following scene is the whole and sole production and invention of some people now living; and faith, let me tell, you, though perhaps the public may not be the better for it, it is an invention exceeding all the discoveries of every philosopher or mathematician from the beginning of the world to this day.
SOURWIT . Ay, pray, what is it?
MEDLEY. Why, sir, it is a discovery, lately found out, that a man of great parts, learning, and virtue, is fit for no employment whatever; that an estate renders a man unfit to be trusted; that being a blockhead is a qualification for business; that honesty is the only sort of folly for which a man ought to be utterly neglected and contemned. And — But here is the inventor himself.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 343