您可以在百度里搜索“The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4 艾草文学(www.321553.xyz)”查找最新章节！

　　SCENE.—Melesinda's Apartment.

　　(MELESINDA and Maid.)

　　MAID Lord, Madam! before I'd take on as you do about a foolish—what signifies a name? Hogs—Hogs—what is it—is just as good as any other for what I see.

　　MELESINDA Ignorant creature! yet she is perhaps blest in the absence of those ideas, which, while they add a zest to the few pleasures which fall to the lot of superior natures to enjoy, doubly edge the—

　　MAID Superior natures! a fig! If he's hog by name, he's not hog by nature, that don't follow—his name don't make him any thing, does it? He don't grunt the more for it, nor squeak, that ever I hear; he likes his victuals out of a plate, as other Christians do, you never see him go to the trough—

　　MELESINDA

　　Unfeeling wretch! yet possibly her intentions—

　　MAID For instance, Madam, my name is Finch—Betty Finch. I don't whistle the more for that, nor long after canary-seed while I can get good wholesome mutton—no, nor you can't catch me by throwing salt on my tail. If you come to that, hadn't I a young man used to come after me, they said courted me—his name was Lion—Francis Lion, a tailor; but though he was fond enough of me, for all that, he never offered to eat me.

　　MELESINDA How fortunate that the discovery has been made before it was too late. Had I listened to his deceits, and, as the perfidious man had almost persuaded me, precipitated myself into an inextricable engagement, before—

　　MAID No great harm, if you had. You'd only have bought a pig in a poke—and what then? Oh, here he comes creeping—

　　Enter MR. H. abject.

　　Go to her, Mr. Hogs—Hogs—Hogsbristles—what's your name? Don't be afraid, man—don't give it up—she's not crying—only summat has made her eyes red—she has got a sty in her eye, I believe—(going.)

　　MELESINDA

　　You are not going, Betty?

　　MAID O, Madam, never mind me—I shall be back in the twinkling of a pig's whisker, as they say. [Exit.]

　　MR. H. Melesinda, you behold before you a wretch who would have betrayed your confidence, but it was love that prompted him; who would have tricked you by an unworthy concealment into a participation of that disgrace which a superficial world has agreed to attach to a name—but with it you would have shared a fortune not contemptible, and a heart—but 'tis over now. That name he is content to bear alone—to go where the persecuted syllables shall be no more heard, or excite no meaning —some spot where his native tongue has never penetrated, nor any of his countrymen have landed, to plant their unfeeling satire, their brutal wit, and national ill manners—where no Englishman—(Here Melesinda, who has been pouting during this speech, fetches a deep sigh.) Some yet undiscovered Otaheite, where witless, unapprehensive savages shall innocently pronounce the ill-fated sounds, and think them not inharmonious.

　　MELESINDA

　　Oh!

　　MR. H.

　　Who knows but among the female natives might be found—

　　MELESINDA

　　Sir! (raising her head).

　　MR. H.

　　One who would be more kind than—some Oberea—Queen Oberea.

　　MELESINDA

　　Oh!

　　MR. H. Or what if I were to seek for proofs of reciprocal esteem among unprejudiced African maids, in Monomotopa.

　　Enter Servant.

　　SERVANT

　　Mr. Belvil. [Exit.]

　　Enter BELVIL.

　　MR. H.

　　In Monornotopa (musing.)

　　BELVIL Heyday, Jack! what means this mortified face? nothing has happened, I hope, between this lady and you? I beg pardon, Madam, but understanding my friend was with you, I took the liberty of seeking him here. Some little difference possibly which a third person can adjust—not a word—will you, Madam, as this gentleman's friend, suffer me to be the arbitrator—strange—hark'e, Jack, nothing has come out, has there? you understand me. Oh I guess how it is—somebody has got at your secret, you hav'n't blabbed it yourself, have you? ha! ha! ha! I could find in my heart—Jack, what would you give me if I should relieve you—

　　MR. H. No power of man can relieve me (sighs) but it must lie at the root, gnawing at the root—here it will lie.

　　BELVIL No power of man? not a common man, I grant you; for instance, a subject—it's out of the power of any subject.

　　MR. H.

　　Gnawing at the root—there it will lie.

　　BELVIL Such a thing has been known as a name to be changed; but not by a subject—(shews a Gazette).

　　MR. H. Gnawing at the root (suddenly snatches the paper out of Belvil's hand); ha! pish! nonsense! give it me—what! (reads) promotions, bankrupts—a great many bankrupts this week—there it will lie (lays it down, takes it up again, and reads) "The King has been graciously pleased"—gnawing at the root—"graciously pleased to grant unto John Hogsflesh"—the devil—"Hogsflesh, Esq., of Sty Hall, in the county of Hants, his royal licence and authority"—O Lord! O Lord!—"that he and his issue"—me and my issue—"may take and use the surname and arms of Bacon"—Bacon, the surname and arms of Bacon—"in pursuance of an injunction contained in the last will and testament of Nicholas Bacon, Esq. his late uncle, as well as out of grateful respect to his memory:"—grateful respect! poor old soul——here's more—"and that such arms may be first duly exemplified"—they shall, I will take care of that—"according to the laws of arms, and recorded in the Herald's Office."

　　BELVIL Come, Madam, give me leave to put my own interpretation upon your silence, and to plead for my friend, that now that only obstacle which seemed to stand in your way of your union is removed, you will suffer me to complete the happiness which my news seems to have brought him, by introducing him with a new claim to your favour, by the name of Mr. Bacon.

　　(Takes their hands and joins them, which Melesinda seems to give consent to with a smile.)

　　MR. H. Generous Melesinda!—my dear friend—"he and his issue," me and my issue—O Lord!—

　　BELVIL

　　I wish you joy, Jack, with all my heart.

　　MR. H. Bacon, Bacon, Bacon—how odd it sounds. I could never be tired of hearing it. There was Lord Chancellor Bacon. Methinks I have some of the Verulam blood in me already—methinks I could look through Nature—there was Friar Bacon, a conjurer—I feel as if I could conjure too—

　　Enter a Servant.

　　SERVANT Two young ladies and an old lady are at the door, enquiring if you see company, Madam.

　　MR. H.

　　"Surname and arms"—

　　MELESINDA

　　Shew them up.—My dear Mr. Bacon, moderate your joy.

　　Enter three Ladies, being part of those who were at the Assembly.

　　FIRST LADY

　　My dear Melesinda, how do you do?

　　SECOND LADY

　　How do you do? We have been so concerned for you—

　　OLD LADY

　　We have been so concerned—(seeing him)—Mr. Hogsflesh—

　　MR. H. There's no such person—nor there never was—nor 'tis not fit there should be—"surname and arms"—

　　BELVIL It is true what my friend would express; we have been all in a mistake, ladies. Very true, the name of this gentleman was what you call it, but it is so no longer. The succession to the long-contested Bacon estate is at length decided, and with it my friend succeeds to the name of his deceased relative.

　　MR. H.

　　"His Majesty has been graciously pleased"—

　　FIRST LADY

　　I am sure we all join in hearty congratulation—(sighs).

　　SECOND LADY

　　And wish you joy with all our hearts—(heigh ho!)

　　OLD LADY

　　And hope you will enjoy the name and estate many years—(cries).

　　BELVIL

　　Ha! ha! ha! mortify them a little, Jack.

　　FIRST LADY

　　Hope you intend to stay—

　　SECOND LADY

　　With us some time—

　　OLD LADY

　　In these parts—

　　MR. H. Ladies, for your congratulations I thank you; for the favours you have lavished on me, and in particular for this lady's (turning to the old Lady) good opinion, I rest your debtor. As to any future favours—(accosts them severally in the order in which he was reftised by them at the assembly)—Madam, shall always acknowledge your politeness; but at present, you see, I am engaged with a partner. Always be happy to respect you as a friend, but you must not look for any thing further. Must beg of you to be less particular in your addresses to me. Ladies all, with this piece of advice, of Bath and you

　　Your ever grateful servant takes his leave.

　　Lay your plans surer when you plot to grieve;

　　See, while you kindly mean to mortify

　　Another, the wild arrow do not fly,

　　And gall yourself. For once you've been mistaken;

　　Your shafts have miss'd their aim—Hogsflesh has saved

　　his Bacon.

　　THE PAWNBROKER'S DAUGHTER

　　A FARCE

　　(1825)

　　CHARACTERS

　　FLINT, a Pawnbroker.

　　DAVENPORT, in love with Marian.

　　PENDULOUS, a Reprieved Gentleman.

　　CUTLET, a Sentimental Butcher.

　　GOLDING, a Magistrate.

　　WILLIAM, Apprentice to Flint.

　　BEN, Cutlet's Boy.

　　MISS FLYN.

　　BETTY, her Maid.

　　MARIAN, Daughter to Flint.

　　LUCY, her Maid. The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4