2nd Niece. I know he prizes not Pollina’s love; But
Tilburina lords it o’er his heart. [Aside.]
1st Niece. But see the proud destroyer of my peace.
Revenge is all the good I’ve left. [Aside.]
2nd Niece. He comes, the false disturber of my quiet. Now vengeance do thy worst. [Aside.]
Enter DON FEROLO WHISKERANDOS.
Whisk. O hateful liberty — if thus in vain I seek my
Tilburina!
Both Nieces. And ever shalt!
SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON and SIR WALTER RALEIGH come forward.
Sir Christ. and Sir Walt. Hold! we will avenge you.
Whisk. Hold you — or see your nieces bleed! [The two NIECES draw their two daggers to strike WHISKERANDOS: the two UNCLES at the instant, with their two swords drawn, catch their two NIECES’ arms, and turn the points of their swords to WHISKERANDOS, who immediately draws two daggers, and holds them to the two
NIECES’ bosoms.]”
Puff. There’s situation for you! there’s an heroic group!
— You see the ladies can’t stab Whiskerandos — he durst not strike them, for fear of their uncles — the uncles durst not kill him, because of their nieces. — I have them all at a dead lock! — for every one of them is afraid to let go first.
Sneer. Why, then they must stand there for ever!
Puff. So they would, if I hadn’t a very fine contrivance for’t. — Now mind —
“Enter BEEFEATER, with his halbert.
Beef. In the queen’s name I charge you all to drop Your swords and daggers!
[They drop their swords and daggers.”]
Sneer. That is a contrivance indeed!
Puff. Ay — in the queen’s name.
Sir Christ. Come, niece!
Sir Walt. Come, niece! [Exeunt with the two
NIECES.]
Whisk. What’s he, who bids us thus renounce our guard?
Beef. Thou must do more — renounce thy love!
Whisk. Thou liest — base Beefeater!
Beef. Ha! hell! the lie! By Heaven thou’st roused the lion in my heart! Off, yeoman’s habit! — base disguise! off! off!
[Discovers himself by throwing off his upper dress, and appearing in a very fine waistcoat.] Am I a Beefeater now? Or beams my crest as terrible as when In Biscay’s Bay I took thy captive sloop?”
Puff. There, egad! he comes out to be the very captain of the privateer who had taken Whiskerandos prisoner — and was himself an old lover of Tilburina’s.
Dang. Admirably managed, indeed!
Puff. Now, stand out of their way.
“Whisk. I thank thee, Fortune, that hast thus bestowed A weapon to chastise this insolent. [Takes up one of the swords.]
Beef. I take thy challenge, Spaniard, and I thank thee,
Fortune, too! [Takes up the other sword.]”
Dang. That’s excellently contrived! — It seems as if the two uncles had left their swords on purpose for them.
Puff. No, egad, they could not help leaving them.
“Whisk. Vengeance and Tilburina!
Beef. Exactly so —
[They fight — and after the usual number of wounds given,
WHISKERANDOS falls.]
Whisk. O cursed parry! — that last thrust in tierce Was fatal. — Captain, thou hast fenced well! And Whiskerandos quits this bustling scene For all eter —
Beef. — nity — he would have added, but stern death Cut short his being, and the noun at once!”
Puff. Oh, my dear sir, you are too slow: now mind me. —
Sir, shall I trouble you to die again?
“Whisk. And Whiskerandos quits this bustling scene For all eter —
Beef. — nity — he would have added,—”
Puff. No, sir — that’s not it — once more, if you please.
Whisk. I wish, sir, you would practise this without me — I can’t stay dying here all night.
Puff. Very well; we’ll go over it by-and-by. — [Exit
WHISKERANDOS.] I must humour these gentlemen!
“Beef. Farewell, brave Spaniard! and when next—”
Puff. Dear sir, you needn’t speak that speech, as the body has walked off.
Beef. That’s true, sir — then I’ll join the fleet.
Puff. If you please. — [Exit BEEFEATER.] Now, who comes on?
“Enter GOVERNOR, with his hair properly disordered.
Gov. A hemisphere of evil planets reign! And every planet sheds contagious frenzy! My Spanish prisoner is slain! my daughter, Meeting the dead corse borne along, has gone Distract!
[A loud flourish of trumpets.] But hark! I am summoned to the fort: Perhaps the fleets have met! amazing crisis! O
Tilburina! from thy aged father’s beard Thou’st pluck’d the few brown hairs which time had left! [Exit.]”
Sneer. Poor gentleman!
Puff. Yes — and no one to blame but his daughter!
Dang. And the planets —
Puff. True. — Now enter Tilburina!
Sneer. Egad, the business comes on quick here.
Puff. Yes, sir — now she comes in stark mad in white satin.
Sneer. Why in white satin?
Puff. O Lord, sir — when a heroine goes mad, she always goes into white satin. — Don’t she, Dangle?
Dang. Always — it’s a rule.
Puff. Yes — here it is — [Looking at the book.]
“Enter Tilburina stark mad in white satin, and her confidant stark mad in white linen.”
“Enter TILBURINA and CONFIDANT, mad, according to custom.”
Sneer. But, what the deuce! is the confidant to be mad too?
Puff. To be sure she is: the confidant is always to do whatever her mistress does; weep when she weeps, smile when she smiles, go mad when she goes mad. — Now, Madam Confidant — but keep your madness in the background, if you please.
“Tilb. The wind whistles — the moon rises — see, They have kill’d my squirrel in his cage: Is this a grasshopper? — Ha! no; it is my Whiskerandos — you shall not keep him — I know you have him in your pocket — An oyster may be cross’d in love! — who says
A whale’s a bird? — Ha! did you call, my love? — He’s here! he’s there! — He’s everywhere! Ah me! he’s nowhere! [Exit.]”
Puff. There, do you ever desire to see anybody madder than that?
Sneer. Never, while I live!
Puff. You observed how she mangled the metre?
Dang. Yes, — egad, it was the first thing made me suspect she was out of her senses!
Sneer. And pray what becomes of her?
Puff. She is gone to throw herself into the sea, to be sure — and that brings us at once to the scene of action, and so to my catastrophe — my sea-fight, I mean.
Sneer. What, you bring that in at last?
Puff. Yes, yes — you know my play is called The Spanish
Armada; otherwise, egad, I have no occasion for the battle at all. — Now then for my magnificence! — my battle! — my noise! — and my procession! — You are all ready?
Und. Promp. [Within.] Yes, sir.
Puff. Is the Thames dressed?
“Enter THAMES with two ATTENDANTS.”
Thames. Here I am, sir.
Puff. Very well, indeed! — See, gentlemen, there’s a river for you! — This is blending a little of the masque with my tragedy — a new fancy, you know — and very useful in my case; for as there must be a procession, I suppose Thames, and all his tributary rivers, to compliment Britannia with a fête in honour of the victory.
Sneer. But pray, who are these gentlemen in green with him?
Puff. Those? — those are his banks.
Sneer. His banks?
Puff. Yes, one crowned with alders, and the other with a villa! — you take the allusions? — But hey! what the plague! — you have got both your banks on one side. — Here, sir, come round. —
Ever while you live, Thames, go between your banks. — [Bell rings.] There; so! now for
’t! — Stand aside, my dear friends! — Away, Thames!
[Exit THAMES between his banks.]
[Flourish of drums, trumpets, cannon, &c., &’c. Scene changes to the sea — the fleets engage — the music plays— “Britons strike home.” — Spanish fleet destroyed by fire-ships, &c. — English fleet advances — music plays, “Rule Britannia.” — The procession of all the English rivers, and their tributaries, with their emblems,
&c., begins with Handel’s water music, ends with a chorus to the march in Judas’ Maccabaeus. — During this scene, PUFF
directs and applauds everything — then
Puff. Well, pretty well — but not quite perfect. So, ladies and gentlemen, if you please, we’ll rehearse this piece again to-morrow.
[Curtain drops.]
THE GLORIOUS FIRST OF JUNE
The Glorious First of June premiered on 2 July 1794 at the Drury Lane Theatre and concerns the naval battle between France and Britain in 1794, during the French Revolutionary Wars. The battle began when the British Channel Fleet, under the command of Admiral Lord Howe, attempted to block the passage of a French grain convoy going to France from America. The social upheavals in France during the revolution and a particularly poor harvest had led to an impending famine. The decision had been made to purchase goods in America and to export food from French colonies to send home. Howe attacked the French Atlantic Fleet, commanded by Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse and inflicted severe damages on the ships. However, it was insufficient to prevent the convoy reaching safety. It was a battle that resulted in thousands of casualties and it was used by both sides to increase patriotic fervour.
The Glorious First of June was for years credited to James Cobb, the eighteenth century English librettist, and was considered to be simply a celebration of the naval victory. However, in Naval Engagements: Patriotism, Cultural Politics and Royal Navy 1793-1815, Timothy Jenks states that the play as it was performed was significantly different from the version given to the government censors before it opened. He writes that the author made changes to the text on the afternoon before it premiered and argues that these alterations were important in undermining the idea that the play should be understood as a ‘loyalist text’ (p37). He proposes that the 1794 production ‘continued the debate over naval patriotism and the meaning of the battle’ (p36). Sheridan donated the proceeds from the work to funds for the families of those killed in the battle, serving to highlight the ‘social costs’ and ‘disruptive effects of war’ (p36).
A depiction of the Glorious First of June by Philippe-Jacques de Loutherbourg
CONTENTS
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
ACT I.
ACT II.
Richard Howe by John Singleton Copley, 1794
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
Comodore Broadside, Mr. PALMER.
Endless, Mr. SUETT,
Old Cottager, Mr. MADDOCKS,
Robin, Mr. BARRYMORE,
William, Mr. C. KEMBLE,
Tom Oakum, Mr. BANNISTER,
Ben, Mr. SEDGWICK,
Splicem, Mr. KELLY,
Boy, Master WELSH,
Dick, Mr. HOLLINGSWORTH,
Busy, Mr. BENSON.
Cottager’s Wife, Mrs, BOOTH,
Mary, Miss DE CAMP,
Susan, Miss LEAK,
Girl, Miss MENAGE,
Cicely, Miss CHATTERLEY,
Margaretta, Signora STORACE,
Sailors, Countrymen, Country Lasses, &c. &c.
ACT I.
GLEE.
MARY, SUSAN, BOY, and COUNTRYMEN,
ADIEU to the village delights
Which lately my fancy enjoy’d,
No longer the country invites,
To me all its pleasures are void.
Adieu to the health-breathing hill,
Thou canst not my comfort restore,
For ever adieu my dear Will,
My Henry, alass! is no more.
SONG.
BOY.
When ’tis night, and the mid watch is come,
And chilling mists hang o’er the darken’d main,
Then sailors think of their far-distant home,
And of those friends they ne’er may see again;
But when the fight’s begun,
Each serving at his gun,
Should any thought of them come o’er our mind;
We think that should the day be won;
How ‘twill cheer
Their hearts to hear
That their old companion he was one.
Or, my lad, if you a mistress kind,
Have left on shore; some pretty girl and true,
Who many a night doth listen to the wind,
And sighs to think how it may fare with you,
O! when the fight’s begun
Each serving at his gun,
Should any thought of her come o’er your mind;
Think only should the day be won:
How ‘twill cheer
Her heart to hear
That her own true sailor he was one.
SONG.
SUSAN.
Oh, stay, my love, my William, dear,
Ah! whither art thou flying?
Nor think’st thou of my parents here,
Nor heed’st thy Susan sighing;
Thy country’s cause and honour call,
Are words that but deceive thee,
Thou seest my tears, how fast they fall,
Thou must not, William, leave me.
Who’ll o’er them watch, if thus we part,
In sickness or in sorrow,
In some cold shed, with breaking heart,
Where will thy comfort borrow?
Neglected left, no William nigh,
To chear, protect, relieve them;
I, helpless, thrown aside to die,
Thou must not, William, leave them.
Ah me! and think a summers flown,
Perhaps we part for ever;
The fondest hearts that e’er were known,
Unpitying death will sever!
Then why e’er waste or throw away?
(‘Twill pass too soon, believe me)
Our day of love, our little day,
Thou must not, William, leave me.
SONG.
SPLICEM.
When in war on the occean, we meet the proud foe,
With ardour for conquest our bosoms do glow,
Shou’d they see on our vessels Old England’s flag wave,
Tis worthy of Britons, who conquer to save.
Their tri-colour’d ensigns we view from afar,
With three cheers they’re welcom’d by each British tar;
Whilst the Genius of Britain still bids us advance,
Our great guns in thunder hurls defiance to France.
But mark our last broadside; she sinks, down she goes;
Quickly man all your boats, they no longer are foes,
To snatch a brave fellow from a wat’ry grave,
Is worthy a Briton, who conquers to save.
Happy land, thou hast now in defence of thy rights,
Brave HOWE, who the man and the hero unites;
The friend to the wretched, the boast of the brave,
He lives still to conquer and conquers to save.
QUINTETTO.
SPLICEM, COUNTRYMEN, MARY, and SUSAN.
Th’ eventful hour is near at hand,
That must my destiny command:
Ah! could I purchase fortune’s smile,
Whole years of fortune pain and toil
I’d yield to her capricious pow’r,
And bribe her for that single hour.
SONG.
TOM OAKUM,
O’er the vast surface of the deep
Britain shall still her empire keep;
Her heav’n-descended charter long,
The fav’rite theme of glory’s song,
Shall still proclaim the blest decree,
That Britons ever shall be free.
“Dare to dispute her sovereign sway;
“Though savage fury, nurs’d in gore,
“Boast to despoil her silver shore;
“Heav’n still supports her best decree,
“That Britons ever will be free.
“’Twas thus with HOWE, illustrious name!
“Still adding to a life of fame,
“Through Gallia’s proud Armada broke —
“And Albion’s wrath in thunder spoke,
“While Vict’ry sanction’d the degree —
“That Britons ever shall be free.
Hail happy Britain, favour’d isle,
Where freedom, arts, and commerce shine;
Long may thy George in glory prove,
The transports of a nation’s love;
Long reign to guard the blest decree.
That Britons ever shall be free.
DUET.
MARY and SUSAN.
Our hearts with joy expanding,
Your voice our fate commanding,
Most grateful thanks demanding
Accept the tribute due:
Whatever good befalling,
We still shall think of you;
Adieu —
Whatever good befalling,
Our gratitude recalling,
We still shall think of you.
ACT II.
SONG.
MARGARETTA.
Never, never, when you ‘ve won us
Can we trust in faithless man?
For our constant love you shun us
And we’re dup’d do all we can.
Soon the passion you pretended,
Like a magic charm is ended,
While we’re grieving, sobbing, crying;
You’re to others kneeling, sighing,
Wheedling, vowing, weeping, dying,
To betray where’er you can
Never, never, &c.
Silly maidens, here take warning,
Vows of love, with prudence scorning.
Never, never, &c.
DIALOGUE DUET. MARGARETTA and SUSAN.
Marg.
Of lover’s you’ll have plenty,
Be married ere you’re twenty,
The youth whom most you favour
Is gone hence a far;
An honest farmer wooes you,
A lawyer too pursues you;
But ah! your heart’s enslaver
Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan Page 43