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    The Recruiting Officer
    The Recruiting Officer
    The Recruiting Officer
    Ebook156 pages1 hour

    The Recruiting Officer

    By George Farquhar and Mrs. Inchbald

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateJan 1, 1910
    The Recruiting Officer

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      Book preview

      The Recruiting Officer - George Farquhar

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Recruiting Officer, by George Farquhar

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: The Recruiting Officer

      Author: George Farquhar

      Commentator: Elizabeth Inchbald

      Release Date: August 8, 2011 [EBook #37012]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECRUITING OFFICER ***

      Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed

      Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net

      THE

      RECRUITING OFFICER,

      A COMEDY,

      IN FIVE ACTS;

      By GEORGE FARQUHAR, Esq.

      AS PERFORMED AT THE

      THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.

      PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS

      FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.

      WITH REMARKS

      BY MRS. INCHBALD.

      LONDON:

      PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME

      PATERNOSTER ROW.

      WILLIAM SAVAGE, PRINTER,

      LONDON.

      REMARKS.

      If the two last acts of this drama were equal to the three first, it would rank the foremost among Farquhar's works; for these are brilliant in wit, humour, character, incident, and every other requisite necessary to form a complete comedy. But the decrease of merit in a play, on approaching its conclusion, is, as in all other productions, of most unfortunate consequence.

      The author was himself a recruiting officer, and possibly gathered all the materials for this play on the very spot where he has placed his scene—Shrewsbury. He has dedicated the piece to all friends round the Wrekin, and has thanked the inhabitants of the town for that cheerful hospitality, which made, he adds, the recruiting service, to some men the greatest fatigue on earth, to me the greatest pleasure in the world.

      He even acknowledges, that he found the country folk, whom he has here introduced—meaning those most excellently drawn characters of Rose, her brother, and the two recruits,—under the shade of that beforementioned hill near Shrewsbury, the Wrekin; and it may be well supposed, that he discovered Serjeant Kite in his own Regiment, and Captain Plume in his own person. Certainly those characters have every appearance of being copied from life—and probably, many other of his Salopian acquaintance have here had their portraits drawn to perfection.

      The disguise of Sylvia in boy's clothes, is an improbable, and romantic occurrence; yet it is one of those dramatic events, which were considered as perfectly natural in former times; although neither history, nor tradition, gives any cause to suppose, that the English ladies were accustomed to attire themselves in man's apparel; and reason assures us, that they could seldom, if ever, have concealed their sex by such stratagem.

      Another incident in the Recruiting Officer might have had its value a hundred years ago—just the time since the play was first acted; but to the present generation, it is so dull, that it casts a heaviness upon all those scenes, whereon it has any influence. Fortune-tellers are now a set of personages, in whom, and in whose skill or fraud, no rational person takes interest; and though such people still exist by their profession, they are so vile, they are beneath satire; and their dupes such ideots, they do not even enjoy sense enough, for their folly to produce risibility.

      Perhaps, the author despised this part of his play, as much as the severest critic can do; but having expended his store of entertainment upon the foregoing scenes, he was compelled to supply the bulk of the two last acts, from the scanty fund of wasted spirits, and exhausted invention.

      The life of Farquhar was full of adventures.—As a student, he was expelled the college of Dublin, for adventuring profane wit upon a sacred theme, given to him by his tutor for his exercise.

      As an actor, he forsook the stage in grief and horror, on having unknowingly made use of a real sword, instead of a counterfeit one, by which he wounded a brother performer, with whom he had to fence in a tragedy, nearly to the loss of his life.

      In love, and marriage, his enterprises were still more unhappily terminated.—And merely as an author, and a soldier, can any events of his life be accounted prosperous.

      As a dramatic writer, Farquhar was eminently successful; and in his military capacity, he was ever honoured and beloved—whether fighting with a great army in Flanders, or recruiting with a small party in Shropshire.

      DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

      THE

      RECRUITING OFFICER.

      ACT THE FIRST.

      SCENE I.

      The Market Place.

      Drum beats the Grenadier's March.—

      Enter Serjeant Kite, followed by Thomas Appletree, Costar Pearmain, and the Mob.

      Kite. [Making a Speech.] If any gentlemen soldiers or others, have a mind to serve his majesty, and pull down the French king; if any 'prentices have severe masters, any children have undutiful parents; if any servants have too little wages, or any husband too much wife, let them repair to the noble Serjeant Kite, at the sign of the Raven, in this good town of Shrewsbury, and they shall receive present relief and entertainment.—[Drum.]—Gentlemen, I don't beat my drums here to insnare or inveigle any man; for you must know, gentlemen, that I am a man of honour: besides, I don't beat up for common soldiers; no, I list only grenadiers; grenadiers, gentlemen.

      ——

      Pray, gentlemen, observe this cap—this is the cap of honour; it dubs a man a gentleman, in the drawing of a trigger; and he, that has the good fortune to be born six foot high, was born to be a great man—Sir, will you give me leave to try this cap upon your head?

      Cost. Is there no harm in't? won't the cap list me?

      Kite. No, no, no more than I can.—Come, let me see how it becomes you.

      Cost. Are you sure there is no conjuration in it? no gunpowder plot upon me?

      Kite. No, no, friend; don't fear, man.

      Cost. My mind misgives me plaguily.—Let me see it—[Going to put it on.] It smells woundily of sweat and brimstone. Smell, Tummas.

      Tho. Ay, wauns does it.

      Cost. Pray, Serjeant, what writing is this upon the face of it?

      Kite. The crown, or the bed of honour.

      Cost. Pray now, what may be that same bed of honour?

      Kite. Oh! a mighty large bed! bigger by half than the great bed at Ware—ten thousand people may lie in it together, and never feel one another.

      Cost. My wife and I would do well to lie in't, for we don't care for feeling one another

      ——

      But do folk sleep sound in this same bed of honour?

      Kite. Sound! ay, so sound that they never wake.

      Cost. Wauns! I wish again that my wife lay there.

      Kite. Say you so! then I find, brother

      ——

      Cost. Brother! hold there friend; I am

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