Poor fellow!  He never will be wise in the material sense; he will trip gracefully through life with more brains and bonhomie than worldly discretion, yet eclipsing many steadier companions by writing the “Recruiting Officer” and other sparkling plays, not forgetting “The Inconstant,” which will last even unto the end of the nineteenth century.  At present—­and ’tis the present rather than the past or future that most concerns the captain—­he holds a commission in the army, which he is foolish enough to relinquish later on, and he has come to the very sensible conclusion that he is far more at home in the writing of comedies than the acting therein.  For he has been on the stage, and precipitately retired therefrom after accidently wounding a fellow performer[A].  In the course of two or three years Farquhar will make a desperate attempt to be mercenary by marrying a girl whom he supposes to be wealthy; he will find out his mistake, and then, like the thoroughbred that he is, will go on cherishing her as though she had brought him a ton of rent-rolls.  When he is dead and gone, Chetwood, the veteran prompter of Drury Lane, will tell us, quaintly enough, how “it was affirm’d, by some of his near Acquaintance, his unfortunate Marriage shortened his Days; for his Wife (by whom he had two Daughters), through the Reputation of a great Fortune, trick’d him into Matrimony.  This was chiefly the Fault of her Love, which was so violent that she was resolved to use all Arts to gain him.  Tho’ some Husbands, in such a Case, would have proved mere Husbands, yet he was so much charm’d with her Love and Understanding, that he liv’d very happy with her.  Therefore when I say an unfortunate Marriage, with other Circumstances, conducted to the shortening of his Days; I only mean that his Fortune, being too slender to support a Family, led him into a great many Cares and Inconveniences.”

[Footnote A:  Farquhar was playing in “The Indian Emperor” being cast for Guyomar, a character whose pleasant duty it is to kill Vasquez, the Spanish general.  This particular Guyomar forgot to change his sword for a theatre foil, and in the subsequent encounter gave Vasquez too realistic a punishment].

No one would have appreciated the unconscious humour of Chetwood’s assertion about “some husbands” more than Farquhar himself.  One trembles to think, by the way what a “mere husband” must have been in the reigns of William or Anne.

In the meantime we are almost forgetting young Mistress Oldfield, who is still reading the “Scornful Lady,” and putting new life and grace into lines which nowadays seem a bit academic and musty.  The captain has not forgotten her, however; on the contrary, he is so charmed with what he hears that he makes some flimsy excuse to get into that room behind the bar whence the silvery voice proceeds.  There he first meets Nance, surrounded by what audience we know not, and is struck dumb at the lovely figure standing out in bashful relief, as it were, against a background of wine bottles and ale tankards.  There is an awkward pause, no doubt, and if the girl of fifteen comes to a sudden stop in her recital, Farquhar is no less embarrassed on his part.