Act 2

SCENE ONE.

[Enter Dr. BALVARD and HARLEQUIN.]

BAL. In short, my Lord, I am amazed at your imprudence. You have been but a few months in office, and already you have made more malcontents than I have done in seven years.

HAR. What can I help it? Your damn'd Macaroni scheme will never do, and yet I have used every art, and even force, to cram it down their throats.

BAL. Ay — so it appears. One of your retainers, I am told, has murdered a man —

HAR. Why, that is the very thing I want to consult you about, and here you spend the time in railing at me, while every Baratarian is railing at us both!

BAL. No matter for that — let us only take care it never come to the governor's ears, and leave the rest to me.

HAR. But how is that to be done?

BAL. You know the governor loves processions. Now, I will speak to my friends of the clergy and laity, to make these as frequent and numerous as possible; and thus, what betwixt the time spent in the show, and hearing the long orations of the deputies (in which I will take care that all your doings and mine shall be vamped in the most gaudy colours) the governor shall never have time to inquire into Procutor's affair.

HAR. But a public trial will bring every thing to light — and then —

BAL. I must own there is some little difficulty there: but to men of parts, nothing is too difficult. Stay — when at Rome, I contracted an intimacy with the cardinal de Postamore, dean of the sacred college, and first inquisitor general; a clergyman of great piety, and long experience in business.

HAR. I don't see how his advice can be of any service. The methods of trial by the inquisition —

BAL. — Will do very well here with those who follow my prescriptions, and eat Macaroni. This worthy clergyman told me, that one of the patients having died under the charitable admonitions of the holy office, his surviving friends began to mutter somewhat, that the man was innocent, and had been murdered. In order to stifle this idle report in the birth, the good cardinal had the dead body taken up, and examined by a number of surgeons, who unanimously gave it as their opinion, that the man did not die by any hurt or wound, but merely of impatience.

HAR. I never heard of that disease till now.

BAL. Their solution of the case was intelligible to the meanest capacity. They said that the man's impatience, under the usual and customary forms of torture, had produced an irritation of the nerves, which produced spasms, which produced fits, which produced convulsions, which produced revulsions of the blood, which produced a plethora about the pericardium, which produced a supervening fever, which produced a separation of the union between soul and body, which produced death.

HAR. And what did their report produce?

BAL. All the good effects the cardinal expected. The man was pronounced guilty of suicide, and his body was removed from consecrated ground, and buried in the common highway, as the law directs. The surgeons had large pensions settled on them. It is true, they were all staunch Catholics, and great eaters of Macaroni. It is thought that this piece of dexterity will secure to my friend, the cardinal, the Papal Chair, now vacant, and, when I left Rome, the price of handsome boys was already advanced twenty per cent, as the merchants thought themselves sure he would succeed, the whole fraternity of Jesuits being engaged in his interest.

HAR. Were it possible to apply the example —

BAL. How! — Possible! Have we not plenty of surgeons, and plenty of money to give them? So little difficulty do I see in the matter, that I will engage, not only to get Procutor acquitted, but his people rewarded for what they have done in defense of our liberties.

HAR. Nay, it is but just to reward their useful labours —

BAL. See how diligent my friends are. Here is a long procession advancing already to the governor's palace. Send Scaramouche quickly to get the surgeons together, while I join the procession —

[Exit BALVARD.]

SCENE TWO.

[HARLEQUIN and SCARAMOUCHE.]

HAR. Scaramouche! Here, Scaramouche!

SCA. [Limping, and making wry faces.] I be coming — coming, mi Lor —

HAR. But why don't you come faster?

SCA. Diable — is Scaramouche von bird? Is he von gander, to hop on von leg — von jambe? Di oder leg is broke —

HAR. Make haste — assemble the governor's surgeons —

SCA. Vat do? To cure mi jambe — mi leg? But, vo vill cure mi epaules, mi shoulder? Diable — mi Lor — you be beat poor Scaramouche into de couleurs of de rainbow, and ven he bi mezzo morto, half dead man — you send him to de chirurgien. Vill you make atomy of him? Ah! Ah! Pauvre Scaramouche — [Crying and whining.]

HAR. Go you rogue! It is an honour for you to have been drubbed by the prime minister of Barataria — call the surgeons, and bid them inquire whether the man that was buried last week be dead or not, Let them give their report in writing.

SCA. Ho! Do dey bury de man here before he be dead?

HAR. Ay — and is not that better than not to be buried at all?

SCA. Mi no apprendre. Be not all de dead mans buried?

HAR. No — many are hung in chains.

SCA. Mi no love Scaramouche hung in de chain. Dis vill give mi de squinzey.

HAR. Away, quickly — I must go to introduce the speaker of the procession.

[Exit HARLEQUIN.]

SCA. [Solus.] So — vill Scaramouche go to ask de surgeon if de dead man be alive or no. Ah, bi Gar, mi vill ask de man myself — de man best tell if he be dead or alive.

[Exit SCARAMOUCHE.]

SCENE THREE.

[Enter the PROCESSION, in ridiculous habits, preceded by a grand chorus of city drums, marrow bones and cleavers, &c. The procession walking, two and two, except the first rank, composed of the speaker or DEPUTY, in the middle, supported by HARLEQUIN and Dr. BALVARD; the DEPUTY with an immense piece of parchment stuck in his hat, written on all sides. — MOB, CONSTABLES, CHAIRMEN, MULE-DRIVERS, hollowing, and shouting.]

MOB 1. No Procession — Biscay and liberty forever!

MOB 2. No Harlequin — No Macaroni — Damn the doctor, the pope, and the cardinal!

MOB 3. Procutor and liberty forever!

BAL. [To the Deputy, seeing him afraid.] Courage, my friend. What, are you alarmed at a little noise?

HAR. [On the other side.] Don't tremble so — you are as safe as in your own shop. But what is that in your hat?

DEP. It is my speech, fairly engrossed in parchment, for I have but a short memory — and this confounded noise —

BAL. Well, I hope you have talked properly of Macaroni, and its virtues.

HAR. I hope you have not forgot my good actions —

DEP. No — if the governor listens to me, you are the two props of this island — I have so whitened you, and so scoured the rust —

MOB 1. No procession! Health to our noble governor — down with the deputy!

MOB 3. Procutor — Harlequin and liberty —

MOB 4. Balvard and Macaroni forever —

[MOB begins to throw dirt at the Deputy and his supporters — DEPUTY

takes the parchment out of his hat, and gives it to BALVARD, who hides it under his black robe.]

BAL. Courage, my friend, I say. This storm will soon be over.

DEP. Very like, but mayhap I shall not live to see the end of it! Oh, would I were safe in my shop again — what had I to do at court?

HAR. Friend Balvard, this grows serious. Tell your Macaroni eaters to get their bludgeons —

[BALVARD makes a signal to his MOB. They begin to knock down the others — FOURTH MOB runs off — A fierce battle. Many fall on both sides. HARLEQUIN with his wooden sword attempts to defend himself, but is sadly drabbed, as well as the DOCTOR — They are at last beaten off the stage. In the scuffle HARLEQUIN drops his embroidered suit, and the DOCTOR his long gown — MOB gathers up the spoils.]

MOB 1. Victory — victory — Biscay and Liberty forever!

MOB 2. How the heroes scampered! Stay — here is poor Jack Hammerhead killed! Well, we must all die. But I'll sell this embroidery, and give him an honourable burial — and then — have at the doctor, my boys.

MOB 1. Down with the doctor! Beef-steaks forever — No Macaroni —

SCENE FOUR.

[Enter to them SCARAMOUCHE.]

SCA. So dis be very fine more vork for a de chirurgien. [To the Mob.] Vere is be mi master?

MOB 1. Who is your master, scoundrel?

SCA. Vat? You no know Scaramouche, secretaire von de big Harlequin —

MOB 2. Hold! This is the rich Frenchman that has stripped Barataria of every shilling.

MOB 1. I'll put him into my cauldron, and boil him into soupe-maigre.

MOB 2. [Pulling Scaramouche.] Avast Tom — I choose to eat a bit of him roasted! Give me this arm.

MOB 1. [Pulling on t'other side.] Let me have a leg —

MOB 3. [Pulling out a long knife.] I'll have the entrails!

SCA. Attendez! Stay von little, messieurs — mi money — mi have made no vill yet!

MOB 1. Hold Tom — let us hang him, for he is poxed, and would poison us.

MOB 2. No — boil him, or roast him —

[During this debate, enter the GUARDS. They rescue Scaramouche, and drive away the MOB, which exit.]

SCA. [With a most doleful countenance.] So — is Scaramouche alive, or is he be dead? Bi Gar, mi vill ask de governor's chirurgien — but mine argent — mi money. Oh, mi vill go to mi own country — Dat is best. Mi no love the soupe-maigre of Barataria.

[Exit SCARAMOUCHE.]

SCENE FIVE.

[Enter HARLEQUIN, BALVARD, and the DEPUTY, in an apartment of the palace.]

HAR. [To the Deputy.] So my friend, here we are safe, and this little ruffle we may now laugh at. Prepare your speech — the governor will give audience presently.

DEP. My speech! — Where is it? I gave it somebody to keep, but I am so frightened that I don't recollect who got it.

BAL. Here it is. But, Mr. Deputy, I observe several words in it are ill spelled, particularly the word Macaroni.

DEP. That's not my fault — It was writ by the recorder. But I can easily get Mr. Syntax, the schoolmaster of our ward, to correct it.

BAL. But does he eat Macaroni?

DEP. Really I cannot tell.

BAL. But I must be assured of that before I permit him to touch your speech. Here — make the best you can of it as it is. Fie! How dirty your linens are! You can't appear before Don Sancho thus.

DEP. As I am a living man, doctor, my wife gave me this shirt clean in the morning, but the violence of the mob, and the natural effects of terror, have put me into the condition you see — if you love me, fall upon some method to delay the time of audience till I go home and clean myself.

HAR. Well — we will indulge you — but don't forget to use some lavender-water and perfumes, for your clothes smell most damnably strong.

[Exit DEPUTY.]

BAL. I wish we had kept him and his stench together, for he is so frightened I am afraid he won't return to us, and then what shall we say to the governor?

HAR. Though you tell him in plain terms the Deputy has befouled himself, it will only be ascribed to the virtues of your Macaroni; and thus it will add a new lustre to your incomparable medicine.

BAL. Nay, I am so sure of its good effects on the Baratarian constitutions.

HAR. Nay, I can tell you, that this very morning I have received accounts from almost every part of the province, that almost every table in it is covered with Macaroni, and that, like the famous inn-keeper, they eat Macaroni, they drink Macaroni and always sleep on Macaroni.

BAL. I wish the public were informed of this.

HAR. The public must hear of it soon; for the wonderful cures effected by this diet will be vouched by people sent on purpose to this capitol, who shall bring with them, from every town and district, the fullest and most ample certificates of its many virtues.

BAL. Then I stand on a rock, never to be moved —

HAR. Ay — so you will say, when I show you the certificates printed and dispersed.

BAL. They will efface the bad impressions made by the forty-five quack bills the Biscayan pasted up t'other day, and open the eyes of the most incredulous.

HAR. Well, you see how anxious I am to serve you — and yet —

BAL. No reproaches — you know I can't bear them. Remember the former Premiers, and tremble. But who is this? I have lately traveled over a great part of Europe, but I have not seen such a figure.

SCENE SIX.

[Enter to them SCARAMOUCHE, with three cartridge-boxes tied round his waist, a blunderbuss in his hand, and a case of pistols stuck in his girdle. HARLEQUIN, trembling, retreats to the further side of the stage, as SCARAMOUCHE advances towards him. Dr. BALVARD stiffens with fear.]

BAL. Pray, Mr. Premier, ask that man what he would have —

HAR. Nay, doctor — you are a learned man — the question will come better from you. Besides, I have got an impediment in my speech, by hollowing forth the virtues of our medicine.

BAL. Nay — I'll conjure him — I learned the art when in the north, from an old woman —

Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape,

That dar'st, tho' grim and terrible, advance

Thy miscreated front athwart our sight?

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee — I'll call thee —

Rogue — rascal — Scaramouche!

SCA. Ha, ha, ha! Vat — vat — doctor Balvard not know his friend Scaramouche? Mi Lor — [to Harlequin.] Vill you no thank your defender?

HAR. Why, Scaramouche — everybody knows you to be a coward. What have you to do with arms?

SCA. Mi no deny, mi vas von coward — but dis same Macaroni do make mi so valiant as de huge knight, Sir John Falstaff! Mi be here to cut de troats of all the von, two, tri mob — see dere — mi bi march — [Struts about the stage.] Only send the surgeons to examine de dead bodies of di living mi bi kill! By Gar — mi no leave one mob alive in all Barataria.

BAL. Though I have no great dependence on your secretary's valour, yet something may be struck out of the hint he has given —

HAR. Pshaw — nonsense.

BAL. Pardon me — suppose we got a number of our bludgeon bearers to scour the streets, and knock down the enemies of Macaroni? We will put Scaramouche at their head.

SCA. You be von great doctor — bot, pardi — you be von little general — you no bi know the post of honneur. De post vor de general is de derriere, de backside of his army.

BAL. Nay, now you are out. Our general in the last war, the marquis de Grand, was always in the front of his troops.

SCA. Pis — de marquis be von fool! Bot dere was de general Con, and de general de Ville, dey always be at de backside of de troop, vor to take care of the baggage. Now — I bi give you two for von. Diable — mi have a serve under de prince de Soubize and de mareschal Broglio, ver mi breakfast upon boiled handgrenades, mi dine on cannon balls — and in de evening me swallow de balls de mousquet, pour lacher le ventre. Dere mi learn to escrimer comme un beau diable — [Drawing his long sword, HARLEQUIN and BALVARD fall back.] Dere mi lern to plunder — Dere mi learn — to run away, morbleu — And you teach mi a de post of honneur? [Strutting about with a fierce countenance.]

HAR. Well, Scaramouche, you shall take post where you please; only encourage the troops.

SCA. Stay von little. Vat is de vord of the day?

BAL. Balvard and Macaroni forever.

SCA. Dat is vell — allons.

HAR. I'll go and assemble our myrmidons. Come, doctor.

SCA. En attendant, Scaramouche vill empty von bouteille. Dis is good for de courage. Allons! Tuons, morbleu — Point de quartier —

[Takes out a bottle as they are going out.]

SCENE SEVEN, and last.

[Enter a COLONEL of the Governor's guards, with a file of MUSKETEERS.]

COL. Stay, gentlemen, and hear the commands of our noble governor. He is at length fully apprised of the good offices you have done him and his people, whom he loves as his children, and means to reward you according to your deserts.

SCA. Courage, Scaramouche, der is de grand promotion a-coming —

COL. Ha — fellow — what use have you for that sword?

SCA. Mi bi incline to sell de sword — Bi Gar, it be von very pretty blade, made at Minden, and never yet stained vid de blood! Sir — Colonel, vill you buy my sword? [Trembling and offering his sword.]

COL. Here, take all his arms from him —

[The SOLDIERS disarm SCARAMOUCHE, who looks foolish.]

SCA. Mi bi tank you messieurs — de arms bi too heavy. Oh! Leave my bouteille! Oh! Chiens — Take avay my bouteille —

COL. For you, Doctor Balvard, our noble governor, from the natural clemency of his mind, spares your life, but sentences you to perpetual imprisonment where you are to eat nothing but Macaroni, and once a week you are to read over one of Rhyme's tragedies on pain of death.

BAL. I submit to the first part of the sentence, but what mortal man can bear the last? Oh, Sir, I must humbly beseech you, speak to the governor that I may be hanged — it will be doing an act of charity.

COL. He scorns to take your worthless life. No you shall eat and read all the days of your life — No reply. For you, Mr. Harlequin —

HAR. [In great agitation.] Oh! I shall die before you have pronounced sentence.

COL. The governor is informed that you have made use of your late granted faculty of speech, only to serve Doctor Balvard, and help to poison his good people by recommending Macaroni, a dish he has banished from his own table, and means to prohibit over all the island. But to make his people some amends for the evil you have done them by hurting their constitutions, he orders that you shall be carried about from town to town, an object of public ridicule, to divert the lieges by all the monkey tricks you can devise. But as he confiscates your whole estate, out of his great bounty, he allows you to levy a tax of six pence a head on all the subjects who choose to see you play the fool.

HAR. God bless our noble governor — I was afraid of the gibbit —

COL. Stay! Hear the rest of your sentence. On pain of death you are never once to open your lips again, whatever usage you meet with. You shall be flung out of the windows, shot from a cannon, receive blows, and falls, without number or measure, be crammed into a bottle, reduced to a mere skeleton, and all this, without your daring to utter the least complaint, on pain of having your tongue immediately cut out. Now, Mr. Scaramouche —

SCA. Oh! Monsieur — upon my knee I beg — [Kneeling.]

COL. As you were here Harlequin's friend and secretary, I order you to attend him during his whole life, and to divide the profits of his exhibitions. You are infinitely below our governor's notice, and therefore he has left your fate in my hands. You are ordered to inflict, on your quondam master, all the evils he has to suffer, and in return he is to beat you five or six times a day. For this purpose, I leave him this wooden sword, with power to him to call for another, from the governor's forest, when this is worn out. Now, gentlemen — I have but one question to ask you — whether do you choose to go down the palace stairs, or be flung out of the windows?

BAL. Oh! Dear Sir — have compassion on wretched criminals and suffer us to down stairs.

COL. Here — sergeant — conduct these vermin to the place of the several destinations, and see our governor's orders punctually executed.

[The SOLDIERS celebrate.]

SOL 1. Huzza! God bless our noble governor! Long may he rule the island of Barataria. But colonel — we have beaten the enemy, but have got no plunder.

COL. My boys, I give you doctor Balvard's gown, all Scaramouche's arms, and a tenth of Harlequin's tax money.

SOLDIERS. Long live our noble colonel! Come, gentlemen —

[Exeunt BALVARD, HARLEQUIN, and SCARAMOUCHE, guarded.]

FINIS.