Miss in Her Teens

Too long has farce,

neglecting nature's laws,

Debas'd the stage,

and wronged the comic cause.

To raise a laugh has been her sole pretence,

Tho' dearly purchas'd at the price of sense.

This child of folly gain'd increase with time;

Fit for the place, succeeded Pantomime.

Reviv'd her honours, join'd her motley band,

And song, and low conceit o'erran the land.

More gen'rous views inform our author's breast.

From real life his characters are dressed.

He seeks to trace the passions of mankind.

And while he spares the person,

paints the mind.

In pleasing contrast he attempts to show

the vap'ring Bully, and the frib'ling Beau.

Cowards alike,

that full of martial airs,

and this as tender as the silk he wears.

[faint battle sounds in the distance]

The bard, who's hopes on comedy depend...

...must strive instruction with delight to blend.

While he who bounds his less aspiring views to farce,

the combrush of the comic muse,

with pleasantry alone may fill the scene.

His business chiefly this, to cure the spleen.

To raise the pensive mind from grave to gay,

and help to laugh our thoughtful hour away.

"Dearest darling Rhodophil,

my love for you remains fixed and ardent.

These long six months past since your being called away,

have weighed heavy in my heart.

My ears tingle, my face flushes,

my heart beats

and I tremble every jot of me...

...until your return."

Puff, what news from the Commander?

Oh, it should just be one more,

final push to break the line, Sir.

Pray, Sir, may I be so bold...

Pick up your flats and sharps, Puff,

we must have at them.

Proud to divert,

not anxious for renown,

oft has our Bard essay'd to please the town...

Your full applause out-paid his little art,

he boasts no merit, but a grateful heart.

Pronounce your doom, he'll patiently submit,

ye sovereign judges of all works of wit!

To you the ore is brought, a lifeless mass,

you give the stamp,

and then the coin may pass.

Boo! Boo!

This is the place we were directed to;

and now, Puff, if I can get no intelligence of her,

what will become of me?

And me too, Sir.

Why did you leave the Army so abruptly

and not give me time to fill my knapsack

with the common necessaries?

I was wild to get away, and as soon as I obtained

my leave of absence I thought every moment

an age till I returned to the place where

I first saw this young,

charming,

innocent, bewitching creature...

With fifteen thousand pounds to her fortune -

strong motives I must confess.

But pray, Sir, did you take fire before

you knew of her fortune?

Before, upon my honour.

Folly and constitution - but on, Sir.

Now we are gotten to the place of action,

propose your plan of operation.

My father lives but in the next street, so I must

decamp immediately for fear of discoveries;

but you are not known to be my servant,

therefore make what inquiries you can in the neighbourhood,

and I shall wait at the inn for your intelligence.

I'll...er... patrol hereabouts,

and examine all who pass;

ah but ah, Sir, I've, I've,

forgotten her name, erm, Miss Biddy...

Belair. - Miss Biddy Belair.

A woman of wit, beauty

and fifteen thousand pounds of fortune.

Oh, but, Sir? - What, Puff?

If it pleases you to consider, I had a wife

in town whom I left somewhat abruptly half a year ago.

You'll think it, but decent, I believe...

Pr'ythee don't distract me; a moment's delay

is of the utmost consequence.

I must insist upon an immediate compliance

with my commands.

The devil is in these fiery young fellows!

Let me acquaint you with the particulars of his passion.

When the Captain left the University,

which is seven months since,

his father, who loves his money better than his son,

would not settle a farthing upon him.

Instead he purchased him a pair of colours at

my masters own request.

But before he joined... Thank you.

Before he joined his regiment, which was going abroad,

he took a ramble into the countryside with

a fellow-collegian to see a relative of his

who lived in Berkshire.

He was introduced to the family by the name of...

Rhodophil?

I assure you, Bob, Miss Biddy Belair is a young

woman of sensible vivacity and fanciful ideals.

Why Rhodophil?

You may not have noticed, Bob, but since her arrival here

she has done only two things;

shot timid glances in your direction,

and had her nose firmly planted in

Marriage a La Mode.

Rhodophil it is!

Miss Felicity Fettiplace, your servant.

William, I believe you've met my friend,

Miss Biddy Belair. - Enchanted.

May I introduce my good friend, Rhodophil.

Oh!

The Captain took fire at once and

vowed eternal constancy.

Rhodophil?

What a coincidence, William.

At the end of three weeks he was obliged to attend

the call of honour in Flanders.

As soon as he was given leave of absence

the Captain left the army to fulfil his promise

of returning to Miss Biddy at the first opportunity.

We did so, but we found the house shut up

and all the information we could get was that

Miss and her aunt were removed to town and

live somewhere near this part of it.

Get here!

Who's that?

My old acquaintance, Jasper?

What, Puff!

Are you here? - My dear friend!

Still easy and happy!

Toujours le meme!

What intrigues now?

What girls have you ruined since you and I used

to beat up together?

Business has been very brisk during the war.

Men are scarce, you know;

not as I can say I ever wanted amusement

in the worst of times.

But harkye, Puff...

Oh, shhh, not a word aloud!

I am incognito.

Why faith, I should not have known you if you had

not spoke first; I should say you are a little

dishabille too, as well as incognito.

Are you from the wars?

Piping hot, I can assure you, Jasper;

and smoke will tarnish.

Men that go into such service as I have been in,

will find their clothes a little worse for wear.

But how is it with you?

You still serve, I see?

I suppose you live in that house there?

Oh, I don't absolutely live,

but I am most of my time there;

I have within these two months entered into

the service of an old gentleman, who hired a

reputable servant and dressed him as you see,

because he has taken it into his head to fall in love.

Oh, false appetite and second childhood!

Pr'ythee, what's the object of his passion?

No less a virgin with fifteen thousand pounds.

The toothless old dotard!

And he mumbles and plays with her till his mouth waters;

then he chuckles till he cries,

and calls it his Bid, and his Bidsy...

Bidsy! What is that?

Ah, her name is Biddy.

Miss... Biddy Bellair. - Biddy Bellair.

The same.

To be sure, I have no luck.

Oh, I have heard of her.