The Clandestine Marriage: A Comedy

The Clandestine Marriage is an English comedy co-authored by playwright George Colman and actor David Garrick, and first performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1766. It is both a comedy of manners and a comedy of errors. The plot was inspired by a series of pictures by William Hogarth entitled Marriage à-la-mode that satirized the treatment of British marriages as business negotiations, in which wealthy British merchants married off their daughters to impoverished peers, exchanging their money for improved social status. PROLOGUE. Written by Mr. GARRICK. Spoken by Mr. HOLLAND. POETS and Painters, who from Nature draw Their beſt and richeſt Stores, have made this Law: That each ſhould neighbourly aſſiſt his Brother, And ſteal with Decency from one another. To-night, your matchleſs Hogarth gives the Thought, Which from his Canvas to the Stage is brought. And who ſo fit to warm the Poet's Mind, As he who pictur'd Morals and Mankind? But not the ſame their Characters and Scenes; Both labour for one End, by different Means: Each, as it ſuits him, takes a ſeparate Road, Their one great Object, Marriage-a-la-mode! Where Titles deign with Cits to have and hold, And change rich Blood for more ſubſtantial Gold! And honour'd Trade from Intereſt turns aſide, To hazard Happineſs for titled Pride. The Painter dead, yet ſtill he charms the Eye; While England lives, his Fame can never die: But he, who ſtruts his Hour upon the Stage, Can ſcarce extend his Fame for Half an Age; Nor Pen nor Pencil can the Actor ſave, The Art, and Artiſt, ſhare one common Grave. O let me drop one tributary Tear, On poor Jack Falſtaff's Grave, and Juliet's Bier! You to their Worth muſt Teſtimony give; 'Tis in your Hearts alone their Fame can live. Still as the Scenes of Life will ſhift away, The ſtrong Impreſſions of their Art decay. Your Children cannot feel what you have known; They'll boaſt of Quins and Cibbers of their own: The greateſt Glory of our happy few, Is to be felt, and be approv'd by you. Extract : ACT I. SCENE A room in Sterling's houſe. Miſs Fanny and Betty meeting. Betty running in. MA'am! Miſs Fanny! Ma'am! Fanny. What's the matter! Betty! Betty. Oh la! Ma'am! as ſure as I'm alive, here is your huſband— Fanny. Huſh! my dear Betty! if any body in the houſe ſhould hear you, I am ruined. Betty. Mercy on me! it has frighted me to ſuch a degree, that my heart is come up to my mouth.—But as I was a ſaying, Ma'am, here's that dear, ſweet— Fanny. Have a care! Betty. Betty. Lord! I'm bewitched, I think.—But as I was a ſaying, Ma'am, here's Mr. Lovewell juſt come from London. Fanny. Indeed! Betty. Yes, indeed, and indeed, Ma'am, he is. I ſaw him croſſing the court-yard in his boots. Fanny. I am glad to hear it.—But pray now, my dear Betty, be cautious. Don't mention that word again on any account. You know, we have agreed never to drop any expreſſions of that ſort for fear of an accident. Betty. Dear Ma'am, you may depend upon me. There is not a more truſtier creature on the face of the earth, than I am. Though I ſay it, I am as ſecret as the grave—and if it's never told, till I tell it, it may remain untold till doom's-day for Betty. Fanny. I know you are faithful—but in our circumſtances we cannot be too careful. Betty. Very true, Ma'am!—and yet I vow and proteſt, there's more plague than pleaſure with a ſecret; eſpecially if a body mayn't mention it to four or five of one's particular acquaintance. Fanny. Do but keep this ſecret a little while longer, and then, I hope you may mention it to any body.—Mr. Lovewell will acquaint the family with the nature of our ſituation as ſoon as poſſible. Betty. The ſooner, the better, I believe: for if he does not tell it, there's a little tell-tale, I know of, will come and tell it for him. Fanny. Fie, Betty! [bluſhing.] Betty. Ah! you may well bluſh.—But you're not ſo ... Read more