No. XV.
FRENCH' S S 1 AN D A R D DRAM A
THE  HU N, C HB A:C' K
2L 1Laa
IN FIVE  ACTS
BY.JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES,
WITH THE AUTHOR'S LATEST CORRECTIONS,
ALL THE STAGE BUSINES3, CAST OF CHARACTERS, COTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c.
_J PERFORMED BY MR. KNOWLES, MIR. AND 5MISS KEMIBLV
MR. AND MIRS. CHARLES KEAN
THE ONLY UNMUTILATED EDIT1IO: the Stagt Oa 0iiionls eare;fu!l~   marked with inverted eommV
NEw YORK                  LONDOi
SAMUEL FRENCH          SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
PUBLISHER            26 SOUTHAMPTON ST.
24 WEST 22D STREET*,  STRAND,   LONDON, W, C.




CAbT O'F CHARACTERS.
Covent Garden, 1832.   Park, 1845.     Cshergn. St. a18
Master Walter...... Mr. J. S. Knowles.  Mr. Bass.      Mr. Maywood.
Sir Thomas Clifford. " C. Kemble.      "Chas. Kean.' Chas. Kenmble
Lord Tineel........ "Wrench.'De Walden.    " Murdock.
Modes.............  " Abbott. "G. Barrett               "Rowbotha.
Pathom......... " Meadows.           " Fisher.          " Watsoil.
bfaster PWilford......  "J. Mason     "Crocker.          " J. G. Porter.
Maater  eartwell.... " Evans.         " Anderson.          Walstejn
Gaylove............    Henry.         " Pearson.            Darley.'homas.............  " Barnes.        " Povey.           " Kent.
Stephen............ " Payne.' M'Douall.       "Jervis.
SinjqsonPa.......... "Bradv.       " Bulard. "Broad.'iKlliams........    "Irwil..            Gourlay.        " Eberle.
Hoaldwell..... "Beender. "Gallott.                    " Craddock.
&ervaentt...  " Cooper.         "King.             " Br.ittinghas.
Julia............... Miss F. Kemble.   Mrs. Chas. Kean  Miss Fanny Kemnlhe
Petles.M.......,. M iss Tay or,    Mrs. Abbott.     Mr'. Rowbothama,
COSTU M ES.
MAtSTER  WAsiTER.-Black Old-English doublet, puffed with re4
silk or black satin, black mantle. black cap and plume, sword and
canle.
SLR THOMAS CLIFFORD.-Dark coloured doublet richly slashed
with crimssol, dark manitle, trunks trimmed with lace, russet boots
b.ff hat and white feathers, ruff, and sword with handsome scabbard.
LORD  TINSEr — Blue and silver jacket and pantal',ns, trinlmed
with silk cortt, plated buttons, fancy coloured vest, hat and feathers,
eilk stockings with gold clocks.,IODUS.-Brown Old-English dress trimmed  with blue, hat and fea
thIers.
FATHOM.-Old-Englisb livery.
-1ASTER WILFORD.-First dress: Old-English doublet and mantle,
slightly ornamented.-Second dress: Rich nobleman's suit, —fdnc,
Coloured jacket and pantaloons trimmed with lace,-trunks, belt,
and mantle trimmed,-russet boots, and rich cap and f'eathers.
rL'L.IA.-First dress:  White muslin, trimmed with  iace.-Seccad
rcress: M biite satin gown, with silk spencer or boddice according to
taste, hat and ostrich feathers.-Third dress: White satin robe and
temi-trailn, trimmed with lace, white satin shoes.
IlEiLEN. —'irst dress: White muslin trimmed with pink or blue i0k
and girdle A: the same.-second dress of satin
EXITS AND ENTRANCES.
R. meons Right;  L. Left; R. D. Rzght Door; L. D. Left Door
S 1  Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Doom
RELATIVE  P'JSITIONS.
R., means Right; L., Left; C., Centre; R. C., Right of Centrs
L C., LeJt of Centre.
5.~ Passages marked with Inverted Commas, are urially omzt ted int tM
representatioa,.




EID. T  RiAL  INTROD[ CTIO.N.
saz appearance of " The Ifunc:lback" marked an era in the hist~Mq
t Fnglish dramatic literature.  It did much to restore a taste for th*
atrical entertainments of an elevated character both in England and
the United States, and to silence the cry of those critical croakers, the
continual burthen of whose lament was " the decline of the drama."
A freshness and frankness in the spirit, a heartiness in the tone, and a
manly, muscular energy in the language of' this admirable play, called
to mind the dramatists of the day of Elizabeth.  And yet Knowles is
no imitator.  His style is singularly original.  Indeed it is sometimes
little too liberally garnished with absolute Knowles-isms; as where
he attains concisene.,s of expression at the price of obscurity, or, by
the convolution of his sentences, conceals without invigorating the
sentiment.
" The Hunchback" was first produced the 5th of April, 1832, at the
Covent Garden Theatre. It had been offered to the managers of the
rival house of Drury Lane; but they had been either so obtuse or so
impolitic as to slight its claims to their attention.  The penalty for
thel ueglect was, that they were obliged to close their doors a month
be{,l re the usual period, simply because no attraction they could offer
cooti compete with that of the new-play.
Its success was instant and imposing.  In the part of Julia, Miss
Failtny Kemble surpassed all her former efforts.  " It was," says a
ot:lermpol ary critic, who also writes like a candid one, "a noble and
fit tie same time a most touching performance: noble in the sustained.lenergy of its passion in some of the scenes, and touching in the pure.It pths of its pathos in others.  Her exclamation (in the scene with
M aster Walter) of' Do it!' with reference to the breaking off the hated
match wit- the.Earl, was the most remarkable instance of the first,.ad her cry-half fond, half froward and impatient —of' Clifford, is it, mu? was an exquisite example of the other.... But the great novelty of the night was the acting of Mr. Knowles
himself, in the character of Master Walter; and we can agree with
all the praise, and but.ittle, if any, of the censure, which have been
obentowed upon his performance. It was in many parts the most %at*
wi that we remember to have seen on the English stage: it was In




It               16x1xEDITORIAL INTROD U0lOlN.
some pear  vigodous, and even dignified, and it was intelstrl and
original in all. We speak of the mellowed performance, not that od
the first night, in which the actor commenced under an erroneous im
pression as to the effect and capability of his physical powers, with re,rence to the locality on which they were to be employed.
c" Finally, Mr. Kemble's Clifford was a delightful specimen of grace
kW and gentlemanly propriety; and Miss Taylor's Helen, though great
oves done, was full of sterling comic humor and vivacity."
Most of the London critics were less complimentary in their corm
ments upon the acting of Mr. Knowles. One of them remarked: "Hil
voice is without modulation, always in one loud key, pumping out the
words; which are, moreover, enriched with a genuine and classic
brogue."
Soon after " The Hunchback" had been made familiar to English
play-goers, those of this country had an opportunity of witnessing the
excellent performances of Mr. Charles Kemble and his daughter in this
piece.  Subsequently, Mr. Knowles himself made us a visit, and impersonated lMaster Walter in our principal cities.  We knew and
loved the man; but must turn informer to posterity so far as to confess
that his brogue, even in acting, wzas rich and ripe. How could it be
otherwise, when he was so thoroughly national as to be well content
with the familiar prefix of Paddy to his name?  He ala not attract
large audiences at our theatres; although respect for the dramatist and
affection for the man secured him some substantial returns.  It was
often a subject of regret with us, that our laws for the protection of
literary property were not such, that he could derive some benefit
from the frequent performance o those sterling productions of his
genitus, "The Hunchback," and " The Wife."  Here were foreign
managers and actors making their thousands in this country out of the
fruits of his dramatic toil; while he was debarred from exacting a
penny from these persons for the use of his popular plays' When shal
we have legislators with souls to rectify such rank injustice?
The character of Julia has been a sort of test-part for the rlisFlay
of the abilities of nearly all the accomplished actresses, who have ap.
peared upon our boards since the production of " The Hunchback'
bIiss Vincent, Miss Wheatley, Miss Phillips, Miss Jarman, and Mrs
Charles Wean, have been deservedly plrased for their exquisite em.
bodyings of Master Walter's wayward daughter.  Recently Mrs
Mowatt, who is the peer of any one,Af her predecessors in the respect
of talent if not of stage experience, has added this part to her role and
won new laurels by her spirited personation of it in tne Soutnern
theatres.
The scene of 1" The Hunchback" is laid about the time of Charles 1L
The stor) is that of a father, who, in consequence of his personal de




EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION.
formity, imagires that his daughter will be wanting in filial affetion,
and so brings her up in ignorance of their true relationship. She
knows him only as Master Walter, her kind friend and guardian. Ei
proves in the end to be the rightful possessor of the peerage of Rochdalei
but before this is discovered, he has found in the person of Sir Thomas
Clifford a suitor for his daughter. Julia, while yet a simple country
maiden, accepts this suitor; but on being tried by the gayeties of a
city life, she enters into them so heartily as to make her lover questiclthe sincerity of her attachment to himself. She takes offence at his
monitions, and, while her pride is stung and her resentment aroused,
consents —" only to show him she can wed above him"-to receive
the addresses of the supposed Earl of Rochdale.  But no sooner is her
word passed than she bitterly repents of her precipitancy. When she
learnls that adversity has overtaken Clifford, the generosity of her nature is beautifully betrayed; and the scenes in which she thenceforward appears are wrought up to an intensity of interest.
Such are some of the principal incidents, upon which the plot turns.
It is not very luminously developed. There are crudities and obscuri.
ties in the construction; of which, indeed, no one can be more aware
than the author himself. It does not clearly appear, for example
whether Clifford and Master Walter are not, after the third act, in col.
luslon with each other; and the precise position of Lord Rochdale is
not very intelligibly defined. An audience, however, will be general.
ly too much interested in Julia to pay regard to these subordinate
questions of the play. This charming creation presents throughout
one of the moat consummate feminine portraits ever depicted by any
dramatist.
Much cannot be said in praise of the underplot. Some of the cha.
racters are quite unworthy of the good company, in which they find
themselves. Modus is a conception of but little genuine humor; and,
little as that is, it is partially borrowed from Gradus in  "Who's the
Dupe?" The scenes between the sheepish student of Ovid and his
cousin Helen, (why need she have been a cousin?) always seemed to
as forced and inharmonious.  No young woman of any refinement,
natural or acquired, c)uld have played the wooer as she does; and no
nan of sense, whether a recluse or a man of the world, could have
teen entrapped by the exercise of such unfeminine arts as she stoops
to employ. We always pity the actress, who is cast in the part os
he!Ten.
But, after enumerating all imaginable flaws and defects. there i a
large balance of beauties in this play, sufficient to excite our gratitude
and admiration, and to justify the unparalleled popularity which it
has attained. It will be read, acted and admired, while a vestige od
Bie English drama temains.








AU THOR'S PREFACE,
Tis comedy owes its existence to the failure of  Ihe Beggar'
Daughter of Bethnal Green," which was produced under the most an
f-vurable circumstances, and in the unavoidable absence of the an
thor. I did not like to be baffled, especially, as I thought, withou
good reason; and cheered by the generous, enthusiastic advocacy o
the Atlas (a perfect stranger to me), I set to work upon " The Huncv
back."
My friend, Mr. Macready, who was very angry with me for again
attempting a walk in which I had failed,-and who came to Glasgow
solely, as I believe, for the object of expostulating with me,-was the
first to elicourage me to proceed. I had completed my first act. I
read it to him, and he told me to go on. This I thought the happies
of omens, for many a proof had he given me of his admirable judgmea
in such things. This happened about two years ago.
It was not, however, until the latter end of the summer of 1831, that
I had leisure to proceed with my work. I recommenced it in the
pleasant walks about Birmingham, and completed it on the sands of
Newhaven-my roomy study; where, at the same time, I remodelled'Alfred."  I brought both plays up to town with me in April last.
" The Hunchback" was read to Mr. Lee, and instantly accepted by
that gentleman, who, without hesitation, granted me terms even more
advantageous than those which I required for it from Covent Garden
and to whose polite and liberal deportment tos tsrds me, during his
brief, divided reign of management, I joyfully take this opportunity o
bearing testimony. The play, however, was defective in the undes
plot, which was perfectly distinct from the main one. This error, Mr
Macready pointed out to me,-as did subsequently Mr. Morton, in as
elaborate critique as full of kindness as of discrimination. My avoca
tins, however, did not leave me at liberty to revise my work, til
ksc-ut two months ago, when I constructed my under plot anew; and
having done my best to obviate objections, presented "The Hunch
back" to Drury Lane, from which establishment I subseqrently with
drew it, becaase il w as not treated with the attention which I'housh
ik aerited








THE  HUNCIHBACK
ACT I'.
SCENE I. —. Tavern.. On one side, SIR THOMAS CLIFFORD
at a table with wine before'him; on the other, MASTER
WILFORD, GAYLOVE, HOLDWELL, and SIMPSON, likewuse
taking wine.
Wilf Your wine, Sirs; your wine; you do not justice
to mine host of the Three Tuns, nor credit to yourselves.
I swear the beverage is good! It is as palatable poison
as you will purchase within a mile round Ludgate! Drink,
gentlemen; make free. You know I am a man of expectations; and hold my money as light as the purse in which
I carry it.
Gay. We drink, Master Wilford; not a mar.of us has
been chased as yet.
Igilf. But you fill not fairly, Sirs! Look at my measure! Wherefore a large glass, if not for a large draughtt
Fill, I pray you, else let us drink out of thimEles. This
will never do for the friends of the nearest oi kit to the
wealthiest peer in Britain.
Gay. We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect
it' advancement which has so unexpectedly opened to you.
FVilf. Unexpectedly indeed! But yesterday arrived
he news that the Earl's only son and heir had died;: an],o day has the earl himself been seized with a mortal illness.
His dissolution is looked for hourly: and I, his cousin in
only the third degree, known to him but to be unnoticed
by him-a decayed gentleman's son —glad of the title and
revenues of a sclivener's clerk,-am the undoubted succeso
w to his estates and coronet.




10                THE HUNCHB3ACK.             [wA  I
Gay. Have you been sent for I
TYif: No; but I have certified to his agent, Master
Walter, the Hunchback, my existence and peculiar propin.
quity; and momentarily expect him here.
" Gay Lives there any one that may dispute your c.aizl
— I mean vexatiously.
"I TIf  Not a man, Master Gaylove. i am the sole co
6 maining branch of the family tree."
Gay. Doubtless you look for, much happiness from tnis
change of fortune 1
ViIf: A world! Three things have I an especial pas-.
sion for: the finest hound, the finest horse, and the finest
wife in the kingdom, Master Gaylove.
Gay. The finest wife!
WIilf Yes, Sir; I marry. Once the Earldom comes
into my line, I shall take measures to perpetuate its remaining there. I marry, Sir! I do not say that I shall
love. My heart has changed mistresses too often to settle
down in one servitude now, Sir. But fill, I pray you,
friends. This, if I mistake not, is the day whence I shall
date my new fortunes; " and, for that reason, hither have
~' I invited you, that having been so long my boon compa-'nions, you should be the first to congratulate me."
Enter WAITER, L.
Wait. You are wanted, Master Wilford.
Wijhf By whom.
Wait. One Master Walter.
Wilf. His Lordship's agent! News, Sirs! Show him iL
[Rises. Exit Waiter i,'
By heart's a prophet, Sirs.-The Earl is dead.
Enter MASTER WALTER, L.
Well, Master Walter; how accost you me?
[All come forward,.
Walt. As your impatience shows me you would have
Mly lord, the Earl of Rochdale!                [me:
Gay Give you joy!
Hold. All happiness, my lord!
Simp. Long life and health unto your lordship!
"Gay. Come!
(' We'll drink to his lordship's health!'Tis two o'clock
~ We'll e'en carouse till midnight I Hea'th my lord I"




THE HUNCHBACK.                ll
IHold. AMy lord, much joy to you! Hi.zza!
[All go to the table, fill and drish
"Simp. Huzza!"
Walt, Give something tc the dead!:Gay. Give what?
[I'alt. Respect!
lie has made the living I First to him that s gone,
Say " Peace,"-and then with decency to revels.
Gay What means the knave by revels I
[Advances towards lValtet
iValt. Knave!
gay. Ay, Knave!
Walt. Go to! Thou'rt flushed with wine.
Gay. Thou sayest false!'rho' didst thou need a proof thou speakest true,
I'd give thee one. Thou seest but one lord here,
And I see two!
ITalt. Reflect'st thou on my shape?
Thou art a villain 1
Gay. Ha i
Walt. A coward, too!          [ Walks from hint, L
Draw! [Drawing his sword.j
Gay. Only mark him, how he struts about!
How laughs his straight sword at his noble back.
VWalt. Does it. It cuffs thee for a liar, then!
[Strikes him with his sword
Gay. A blow!
TWalt. Another, lest you doubt the first!
Gay. His blood on his own head! I'm for you, Sir!
[Drawaa
Clif. Hold, Sir! This quarrel's mine!
[Coming forward R. of TValter, and draunq,
W'alt. No man shall fight for me, Sir!
Cif. By your leave!-'Yofu patience, pray! My lord-for so I learn
elnoves me to accost you-for your own sake
D)raw off your friend!
Walt. Not till we have a bout, Sir!
"Clif My lord, your happy fortune ill you greet —
I Ill greet it those who love you-greeting thus
"The herald of it!' Walt. Sir, what's that to you?
Let go my sleeve I




12    -           TITHE HUNCHBACK.' Cl/f. My lord, if blood be shed
Onil the fair dawn of your prosperity,' Look not to see the brightness of its day.''Twill be o'ercast throughout!"
Gay. My lord, I'm struck!
Clif. You gave the first blow, and the hardest one I
Look, Sir: if swords you needs must measure, I'm
Your mate, not he.
Walt. I'm mate for any man.
"Clif Draw off your friend, my lord, for your ow
sake!"
Wil. Come, Gaylove! let us have another room.
Gay. With all my heart, since'tis your lordship's will
Wifl. That's right!  Put up! Come, friends!
[Exeunt W7ilford and friends, n
Walt. I'll follow him!
Why do you hold me?'Tis not courteous of you!
"Think'st thou I fear them?  Fear! 1 rate them but' As dust! dross! offals! Let me at them!-Nay,
"Call you this kind? then kindness know I not;"
Nor do I thank you for't! f et go, I say!'lif: Nay, Master Walter, they're not worth your wrath
Walt. How know you me for Master Walter?  By
NIy hunchback, Eh?-" my stilts of legs and arms,
" TFhe fashion more of ape's, than man's. Aha!' So you have heard them, too-their savage gibes
"As I pass on,-' There goes my lord!' aha!"
N!od made me, Sir, as well as them and you.
Sdeath! I demand of you, unhand me, sir.
[D&zsengaging himpe/
Clif There, Sir, you're free to follow them! Go for
And I'll go, too: so on your wilfulness
Shall fall whate'er of evil may ensue.
I.'t fit to waste your choler on a burr?
"The nothings of the town? whose sport it is
" To break their villain jests on worthy men,
"The graver, still ta. fitter! Fie, for shame!"
Regard what such would say I  So would not I,
No more than heed a cur.
Wralt. You're right, Sir; right,
For twenty crowns! So there's my rapier up 
You've dOIlne me a good turn against my will'




I,So   1        THE  TUNCHf3ACk                1
W,, ch, R&e a wayward child, whose piet is cif,
Tha - made him restive under wholesome check,
I no v right humbly own, and thank you for.
Ct1f: No thanks, good Master Walter, owe you me I
I'm r gad to know you, Sir.
Wlt. I pray you, now,
How did you learn my name?  Guessed I not right I;Was'L not my comely hunch that taught it you I
Ci.' I own it.
WO It. Right, I know it; you tell truth.
like you for't.
Cl.; But when I heard it said
That faster Walter was a worthy man,
Whose word would pass on'change, soon as his bad,
i liberal man-for schemes of public good
That sets down tens, where others units write;
A charitable man-the good he does,
That's told of, not the half-I never more
Could see the hunch on Master ~Walter's bac.
Walt. You would not flatter a poor citizei I
C7fi Indeed, I flatter not i
Walt. 1 like your face:
& frank and honest one! Your framo's well knit.
Proportioned, shaped!
Clif: Good, Sir!
Walt. Your name is CliffordSir Thomas Clifford. Humph! You're not the heir
Direct, to the fair baronetcy? He
That was, was drowned abroad. Am I not right?
Your cousin, was't not?. So succeeded you
To rank and wealth, your birth ne'er promised you,
Clif. I see you know my history.'It-alt. I do.
You're lucky who conjoin the benefits
Wf penury an I abundance; for I know
Your father was a man of slender means.
You do not blush, I see. That's rightl IWhy shouW
you?
What merit to be dropped or fortune's hill I
rhe honour is to mount it. You'd have done it;
For, you were trained to kn)wledge, ind:istry,
Frugality and honesty,-the sinews




vA                 THE HUNCHBIACK
Thai surest hell) the climber to the top,
And keep him there. I have a clerk, Sir Thonlas,
Once served your father, there's the riddle for yw,
qumph!  I may thank you for my life to-dag.
Clf. I pray you, say not so!
-WValt. But I will say so!
Because I think so, know so, feel so, Sir!; our fortune, I have heard, 1 think, is ample;
And doubtless you live up to't?
Clif.'Twas my rule,
And is so still, to keep my outlay, Sir,
A span within my means.
" Walt. A prudent rule.: The turf is a seductive pastime!
" Clf. Yes.
" Wfalt. You keep a racing stud?  You bet 
" Clf: No, neither.''Twas still my father's precept-' Better owe'A yard of land to labour, than to chance'Be debtor for a rood!'
Walt. "'Twas a wise precept."
You've a fair house-you'll get a mistress for it?
Clif: In time.
Walt. In time!'Tis time thy choice were made
[s't not so yet? Or is thy lady-love,
rhe newest still thou see'st X
Clif. Nay, not so.
I'd marry, Master Walter, but old useFor, since the age of thirteen, I have lived
In the world, —has made me jealous of the thing
I'hat flattered me with hope of profit. Bargains
Another would snap up, might lie for me
Till I had turned, and turned them! Speculations,
That promised twenty, thirty, forty, fifty,
Ay, cent. per cent. returns, I would not launch in
When others were afloat, and out at sea!
Whereby I made small gains, but missed great'osses!
As ever then I looked before I leaped,
go do I now.
W'al. Thou'rt all the better for't!
Let's see! H and free-heart whole-well favoured —,so,
Rieki -titled! Let that pass!-kind, valiant, prudent



B    tI.            rR i  HUNCHBACk.
Sir Thomas, I caii help thee to a wife,
Hast thou the luck to win her!
Clif. Master Walter!
iou jest!
lWal. I do not jest. —I like you! maw mI lke you, and I like not every one I!
I say a wife, Sir, can I help you to,
The pearly texture of whose dainty skin
Alone were worth thy baronetcy! PF-ormA: I. -.rfeatare heas she,e. wherein mc  ve -and glow
The- charms, that in the marble, cold and still
Culled by the sculptor's jealous skill, and joinead d;?-,
Jnspire us! Sir, a maid, before whose feet
A duke —a duke might lay his coronet,
To lift her to his state and partner her!
A fresh heart, too! A young fresh heart, Sir, one
That Cupid has not toyed with, and a warm one.
Fresh, young, and warm! mark that! a mind to boot.
Wit, Sir: sense, taste; a garden strictly tendedWhere naught but what is costly flourishes.
A consort for a king, Sir! Thou shalt see her.
Clif. I thank you, Master Walter! As you speak.
Methinks I see me at the altar foot,
" Her hand fast locked in mine-the ring put on."
My wedding bell rings merry in my ear;
And round me throng glad tongues that give me joy
To be the bridegroom of so fair a bride!
Wal. What! sparks so thick? We'll have a blab;e anon'
Enter SERVANT, L.
Serv. The chariot's at the door
TVal. It waits in time!
Sir Thomas, it shall bear thee to the bowel
Where dwells this fair, for she's no city belle,
Put e'en a Sylvan Goddess.
Clif. Have with you.
Wal. You'11 bless the day ycu served the Hunchht-c 
Sir.                                [Exeuna L,
ScENE II. —A Garden before a Country Hoesw
Enter JULIA and HELEN, R. U. E,
Bel. (t.) I like not, Javua, tt is, your country life.
fUm weary ou't.




16                 LE HUNCHBACL               tlA  
JAl. (1.  Indeed?  So am not I!
I know no other; would no other know.
fel. Yod would no other know! Would you r t knoAnother rldative?-another friendAnother house —another anything,
Because the ones you have already please you I
That's poor content! "Would you not be more rich.
"More wise, more fair 1"  The song that last you leax-'*A
You fancy well; and therefore shall you learn
No other song? Youjr virginal.'tis true,
HIath a sweet tone; but does it follow thence
You shall not have another virginal?
You may, love, and a sweeter one; and so
A sweeter life may find, than this you lead!
Jul. I seek it not. Helen, I'm constancy!
Hel. So is a cat, a dog, a silly hen,
An owl, a bat,-where they are wont to lodge
That still sojourn, nor care to shift their quarters.
Thou'rt constancy? I'm glad I know thy name!
The spider comes of the same family,
That in his meshy fortress spends his life,
Unless you pull it down, and scare him from it.
"And so, thou'rt constancy?  Art proud of that I
"I'll warrant thee I'll match thee with a snail,
"From year to year that never leaves his house I
" Such constancy, forsooth!-A constant grub
"That houses ever in the self-same nut'Where he was born,'till hunger drives him out,'OI plunder breaketh thro' his castle wall!"
And so, in very deed, thou'rt constancy!
Jul. Helen, you know the adage of the tree;I've ta'en the bend. This rural life of mire,
Enjoined me by an unknown father's will,
I've led from infancy. Debarred from hope
Of change, I ne'er have sighed for change. The<owx
To me was like the moon, for any thought
I e'er should visit it-nor was I schooled
To think it half so fair!
7Ie1. Not half so fair!
The town's the sun, and thou hast dwelt in night
E'er since thy birth, not to have seen the townll 
Their wcricen there are queens, and kings their men;
Their houses palaces!                    [ Crossev, &




loIEw II.]        THE IUNCHtE.IIC                17
Jul. And what of that I
Itave your town palaces a hall like this?
Couches so fragrant I walls so high adorned I
Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen:As these fair vistas have? Your kings and queens t
See me a May-day queen, and talk of them!
Hel. Extremes are ever neighbors.'Tis a step
From one to the other! Were thy constancy
A reasonable thing-a little less
Of constancy —a woman's constancyI should not wonder wert thou ten years hence
i'he maid I know thee now; but, as it is,
The odds are ten to one, that this day year
Will see our May-day queen a city one.
Jul. Never! I'm wedded to a country life.
0, did you hear what Master Walter says!
Niie'times in ten, the town's a hollow thing,
Where what things are, is naught to what they show;
Where merit's name laughs merit's self to scorn!
Where friendship and esteem, that ought to be
T1W tenants of men's hearts, lodge in their looks
Andl tongues alone. Where little virtue, with
A costly keeper, passes for a heap;
A heap for none, that has a homely one 
Where fashion makes the law —your umpire which
You bow to, whether it has brains or not.
Where Folly taketh off his cap and bells,
To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest 1
Where, to pass current, you must seem the thing,
The passive thing that others think, and not
Your simple, honest, independent self  [GCroatej 
_el. Ay: so says Master Walter. See I rot
What you can find in Master Walter, Julia,
To be so fond of him!
Jul. He's fond of me.
I've known him since I was a child. E'en then
The week I thought a weary, heavy one,
That brought not Master Walter. I had those
4bout me then that made a fool of me,
As children oft are fooled; but more I loved
(Good Master Walter's lesson, than the play
With which they'd surfeit me. As I grew up,




[8                MTHE HUNCHBACK.               [A'!
More frequen. Master Walter came, and more
I loved to see him. I had tutors then,
Men of great skill and learninig-but not one
That taught like Master Walter.  What they'd show me,
And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw,A w - rd from Master Walter made as clear
As day-light! When my schooling days were o'er -
That's now good three years past-three years-J vow
I'm twenty, Helen! —well, as I was saying,
When I had done with school, and all were gone
Still Master Walter came; and still he comes,
Summer or winter-frost or rain. I've seen
The snow upon a level with the hedge,
Yet there was Master Walter!
Ilel. Who comes here?                     [t8e6 
A carriage, and a gay one,-who alightc.
Pshaw! Only Master Walter! What see you,
Which thus repairs the arch of the fair brow,
A frown was like to spoil?-A gentleman!
One of our town kings i Mark —how say you no) v
Would'st be a town queen, Julia I Which of us,
I'vonder, comes he for?
Jul. For neither of us;
He's Master Walter's'clerk, most like.
Hel. Most like!
Mark him as he comes up the avenue;
So looks a clerk! A clerk has such a gait!
So does a clerk dress, Julia,-mind his hoseThey're very like a clerk's! a diamond loop
And button, note you, for his clerkship's hat), cartai ly a clerk! "A velvet cloak,
J erkin of silk, and doublet of the same,-"
For all the world a clerk! See, Julia, see,
How Master Walter bows, and yields him place,
That he may first go in,-a very clerk!
I'll learn of thee, love, when I'd know a clerk I
Jul. I wonder who he is.
Hel. Would'st like to know?
Would st, for a fancy, ride to town with him I
I prophesy he comes to take thee thither.,Jul. He ne'er takes me to town. No, Helen, noa
To ton who will-a country life for me I
e,1. We'll see.




S~an 1.1         THE HUNChaACK.                   19
Enter FATHOM, L.
Fath, You're wanted, Madam.
Jul. [Embarrassed.] Which of us?
Fath. You, madam.                        [&es 1a.t 1,
Ifel. J ilia! what's the matter I  Na"
Ifount not the rose so soon. He must not see it
A month hence.'Tis love's flower, which, once she wear,
The maid is all his own.
J2l. Go to!
liel. Be sure                             [Crosses, t.
He comes to woo thee!.He will bear thee hence;
He'll make tLee change the country for the town.
Jul. I'm constancy. Name he the town to me,
['11 tell him what I think on't!            [Groses, i
Hel. Then you guess
He comes a wooing?
Jul. I guess naught.
l-el. You do!
At your grave words, your lips, more honest, smile,
And show them to be traitors.  Hie to him.
Jul. Hie thee to soberness.                 [Exit. 
Hel. Ay, will I, when
Thy bridemaid, I shall hie to church with thee.
WVell, Fathom, who is come              [ I Comes down, t
Fath. I know not.
Hlel. VWhat!
Did'st thou not hear his name?
Fath. I did.
Htdel. What is'tI
Path. I noted not.
Hel. What hast thou ears for, then 1
Fath. What good were it for me to mind his name I
[ do but what I must do. To do that
i labor quite enough!
Vrazl. [ Without, L.] What, Fathom!
Fath. Heoe.
Wal. [Entering, L.] Here, sirrahl    Wherefore did'v
not come to me 
Fath. You did not bi I me come.
Wal. I called thee.
Fath. Yea.




2i0                THY, HUNCHBACL.       [      a 
And I said,'" Here;" and waited then to know
Your worship's will with me.
TWal. We go to townThy mistress, thou, a.id all the house.
Fath, Well, sir.
Wal. (c.) Mak'st thou not ready, then, to go to town I
Fatih. You didn't bid me to make ready, Sir.
Wal. Hence, knave, despatch!        [Exit IFa;tk
Itel. Go wre to town? 
WVal. We do;
Tis now her father's will she sees the town.
Hel. I'm glad on't. Goes she to her father?
Wal. No;
With the consent of thine, she for a term
Shares roof with thee.
itel. I'm very glad on't.
Tfal. What!
You like her, then?  I thought you would.'Tie time
She sees the town.
Hel. It has been time for that,
These six years.
TVal. By thy wisdom's count. No doubt
You've told her what a precious place it is.
ilel. I have.
Wal. I even guessed as much. For that
I told thee of her; brought thee here to see her;
And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her;
That its fair face, from thy too fair report,
Might strike a novice less,-so less deceive her.
I did not put thee under check.
lide.'Twas righlltElse I had broken loose and run the wilder i
So knows she not her father yet that's strange.
I prithee how does mine?
W[al. Well —very well.
News for thee.
hiel.- What?
IVal. Thy cousin is in town.
I-el. My cousin Modus t
Wal. Much do I suspect
That cousin's nearer to thy heart tl'an blood.
iel Pshaw I Wed me to a musty library I




CwzilE 1II.       THE HUNCiIBACK.
Love him who notahing loves but Greek and Latna  I
But, Master Walter, you forget the main
Surpassing point of all. Who's come with you t
TWal. Ay, that's the question!
Ilel. Is he soldier or
(i'iliar? lord or gentleman?  lie's rich,
if that's his chariot! Where is his estate I
What brings it'in? Six thousand pounds a yeaw 
Twelve thousand, may be?  Is he bachelor,
Or husband?  Bachelor) I'm sure he is!
Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter?
Nay, prithee, answer me!
Wal. Who says thy sex
Are curious?  That they're patient, I'll be sworn
And reasonable-very reasonableTo look for twenty answers in a breath!
Come, thou shalt be enlightened-but propound
Thy questions one by one! Thou'rt far too apt,
A scholar! My ability tC teach
Will ne'er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn
[ Exes   a
SCENE III.-An.partnment mn the House.
Enter JuLIA,followed by CLIFFORD, R.
Jul. No more! I pray you, Sir, no more!
Clif. I love you.
Jul. You mock me, Sir!
Clif Then is there no such thing
On earth as reverence. Honour filial, the fear
Df kings, the awe of supreme Heaven itself,
Awre only shows and sounds that stand for nothing_
I love you!
Jul. You have known me scarce a minute.
Cl/f. Say but a moment, still I say I love you.:
Love's not a flower that grows on the dull earth;
Springs by the calendar; must wait for sunFor rain; matures by parts,-must take its time
Tc stein, to leaf, to bud, to blow. It owns
A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed'
You look for it, and see it not; and lo!
E'en while you look, the peerless flower is p,
Conaummate in the birth!




THE HUNCHBACK                 t[AcT 
ul1. " Is't fear I feel I
"Why else should beat my heart?  It can't be fear!
Something I needs must say.", You're frcm the em
flow comes it, Sir, you seek a country wife I
"Methinks'twill tax his wit to answer that."
Clf/: In joining contrasts lieth love's delight.
Complexion, stature, nature mateth it,
Not; with their kinds, but with their opposites
Hence hands of snow in palms of russet lie;
The form of Hercules affects the sylph's;
And breasts that case the lion's fear-proof heart,
Find their loved lodge in arms where trem  rs dwell!
" Haply for this, on Afric's swai thy neck,
" 1Hath Europe's priceless pearl been seen to hang,
" That makes the orient poor! So with degrees" Rank passes by the circlet-graced brow,
"Upon the forehead bare of notelessness,
" To print the nuptial kiss! As with degrees,
"So is't with habits;" therefore I, indeed,
A gallant of the town, the town forsake,
To win a country bride.
Jul. " His prompt reply,
"My backward challenge shames! Must I give o'e'
I'll try -nis wit again."  Who marries me,
Must lead a country life.
Cli  The life I love!
Dut fools would fly from it; for Oh!'tis sweet.
It finds the heart out, be there one to find;
And corners in't where stores of pleasures lodge,
We never dreamed were the'e! It is to dwell'Mid smiles that are not neighbors to deceit;
Music, whose melody is of the heart,' And gifts that are not made for interest,-'Abundantly bestowed, by nature's cheek,
And voice, and hand!"  It is to live on life,
And husband it! It is to constant scan
The handywork of heaven! It is to con
Its mercy, bounty, wisdom, power! It is
ro nearer see our God!
Jul. How like he talks
ro Master Walter! " Shall I give it o'er I' Not yet."  Thou would'st not live one half a yesa I




ik -R Mll.J        THE HUNCHBACK.                  93
A quarter mlight'st thou for the novelty
Offields and trees; but then it needs must be
In summer time, when they go dressed.
C7f: " Not it!"
in any time —say winter! Fields and trees
Have charms for me in very winter time.
Jul. But snov may clothe them then
Cl.f. I like them full
As well in snow!
Jul. You do?
C/lf: I do!
Jul. But night
Will hide both snow and them; and that sets in
Ere afternoon is out. A heavy thing,
& country fireside in a winter's night,'Fo one bred in the town,_-" where winter's said,' For sun of gayety and sportiveness,' To heggar shining summer."
Clif: I should like
A country winter's night especially I
Jul. You'd sleep by the fire.
CliE: Not I; I'd talk to thee.
Jul. You'd tire of that!
Clif I'd read to thee.
Jal. And that!
Clif. I'd talk to thee again.
TJul. And sooner tire
T'han first you did, and fall asleep at last.
" You'd never do to lead a country life."
Clif. " You deal too hardly with me!" Matchless nimA
U As loved instructor brightens dullest wit,"
Fear not to undertake the charge of me!,Kn.cL
A willing pupil kneels to thee, and lays
Ilia title and his fortune at your feet.
6" Jul. His title and his fortune!",TPe4 MASTER WALTER and HELEN, R.-JULIA, discwoterp
ed, retires with the latter, L.-CLIFFORD rises.
IYVa'. So, Sir Thomas!
Aha! you husband time! well, was I right' 
le't not the jewel that I told you'twas?
Would'st thou not give thirie eyes to wear it?  Fh I




514               THE HUNCHBACK.               A t
It has an ownei tho, —nay, start not, —one
That may be br ught to part with't, and with whom
I'll stand thy friend-I will —I say, I will l
A strange man, sir, and unaccountable;
But I can humour him-will humour him
For thy sake, good Sir Thomas, for I like thee.
Well, is't a bargain. Come, thy hand upon it.
A word or two with thee.
[ Thley retire, R. Julia and Helen come.jorwrrd, L
Jul. (L.) Go up to town!
Hlel. (R.) Have I not said it ten times o'er to thee I
But if thou lik'st it not, protest against it.
Jul. Not if'tis Master Walter's will.
Hel. What then?
Thou would'st not break thy heart for Master Walter I
Jul. That follows not!
fel. What follows not?
Jul. That I
Should break my heart that I go up to town.
fuel. Indeed! Oh, that's another matter. Well,
I'd e'en advise thee, then, to do his will;
And ever after, when I prophesy,
Believe me, Julia!
[They retire. Master Waiter comesforward
Enter FATHOM, L., crosses to Walter.
Fath. So please you, sir, a letter, —a post haste letter 
The bearer on horseback, the horse in a foam-smoking
like a boiler at the heat-be sure a post-haste letter I
Wal. Look to the horse and rider.
[Exit Fathom, L. Opens the letter and reads'What's this?  A testament addressed to me,
"Found in his Lordship's escrutoire, and thence
"1Directed to be taken by no hand
"But mine. MI presence instantly required."
[Sir Thomas, Julia, and Helen come fo*-warI
Come, my mistresses,
You dine in town to-day. [Crosses, L.] Your father's w11
it is, my Julia, that you see the world;
And thou shalt see it in its best attire.Its gayest looks —its richest finery
It shall put on for thee that thou may'st judge




~m  1.1       THE HUNCHABAK.
Betwixt it, and the rural life you've lived.
B3usiness of moment I'm but just advised ot,
Touching the will of my late noble master,
The E arl of Rochdale, recently deceased,
Cormmands me for a time to leave thee there.
Sir Thomas hand her to the chariot. [Sir Thomlr s ct-ert
to her and hands Jahla out, L.: they/pass IValter, w4X
thenz leads Ielen out, L.J Nay,
tell thee true.  We go indeed to town!      [Exeu.s
END OF ACT I.
ACT II
SCENE 1.-An Apartment in MASTER HEArETILL' HTIoue
Enter TwoMAS and FATHOM, R.
Thlom. Well, Fathom, is thy mistress up.
Fazth. She is, Master Thomas, and breakfasted.
Tl0m. She stands it well!'Twas five, you say, whet
she came home; and wants it now three quarters of an
hour of ten! Wait till her stock of country health is out.
Fath.'Twill come to that, Master Thomas, before she
lives another month in town' Three, four, five, six o'clock,
are now the hours she keeps.'Twas otherwise with her
in the country. There my mistress used to rise what time
she now lies down.
Thaon..Why, yes; she's changed since she came hither
pzath. Changed, do yau say, Master Thomas i Changed
Pfrsooth! I know not the thing in which she is not chang.
dt, saving that she is still a woman.  I tell thee there is- n
k:-ping pace with her moods.  In the country, she had
iaue of them. Wnen.[ brought what she asked for, it was
thaik iyou, Fathom," and no more to do; but now, noth.
rg contents her. Hark ye! were you a gentleman, las.
mtr Thomas,-for then you know you would be a different
kind of man,-how many times would you have your coat
altered t
7T'haz. Why, Master Fathom, aP many times as it w'ould
tsee to make it fit me.




THE HUNCHBACIL              [Ac tB
Ii'ath. Good! But supposing it fitted thee at filst?
Thom. Then would I have it altered not at all.
Fath. Good! Thou would'st be a reasonable gertleman,
Thou would'st have a conscience. Now hark to a tale
about my lady's last gown. IHow many times, think you
V.o)k I it back to the sempstress?
Thomr. Thrice, may be.
Fath. Thrice, may be!  Twenty times, may be; and
rot a tu-rL too many for the truth on't.  Twenty times, on
the oath of the sempstress.  Now mark me-can you
count?
Thom. After a fashion.
Fath. You have much to be thankful for, Master Thomrn
as; you London serving-men know a world of things, which
we in the country never dream  of: Now  mark:-four
times took I it back for the flounce; twice for the sleeves;
thrice for the tucker. How many times in all is that?
Thom. Eight times to a fraction, Master Fathom.
Fath. What a master of figures you are]!  Eight times
- now recollect tbat! And then found she fault with the
trimmings. Now, tell me how many times took I back;he gown for the trimmings.
Thom. Eight times more, perhaps!
Fath. Ten times to a certainty. How many times make'
that 1
Thom. Eighteen, Master Falhhom  by the rule of addi
tion.
Fath. And how many times more will n'ake twenty?
Thom. Twice. by the same rule.
Fath. Thou hast worked with thy pencil anad slate, Mas
ter Thomas! Well, ten times, as I said. teook i back the
own fob the trimmings: and was she cOnrert after all I
I waiTrant you. io, or my ears did not pay for it. She wisheJ, she said, that the slattern sempstress had not touched
Ee gown; for naught had she done, but botched it. Now
what, think you, had the sempstress done to the gown?
Thoam, To surmise that, I must be learned ir the semp
stress's art.
Fath. The sempstress's art!  Thou has hit it! Oh, the
freet sempstress! The excellent sempstress! Mistresa
of her scis&srs and needles, which are pointless and edge.
less to her art! The sempstress had done nothing to tae




d&Etc ii.]          THE HUNCHBACK.                    27
gown, yet raves and storms my mistress at er for having
blotchebd it in the making and mendling; and orders her
3traight to make another one, which home the sempstress
)rings,: Tuesday last.
Thomn. A1d fbund thy fair mistress as many faults with
hat?
Fatth. Not one!  Slhe finds it a very pattern of a gown!
v well aittng flounce!' The sleeves a fit —tle tucker q
it —the trnimilgs her fancy to a T —ha! ha! ha! and
o e praised the sempstress-ha! ha! ha I and she smiles
t me, and I smile-ha! ha! ha! and the sempstress smiles
-ha! ha! ha!  Now why did the sempstress smile?
Tlhom. That she had succeeded so well in her art.
Faltk. Thou hast hit it again.  The jade must have been
oot'n a sempstress.  If ever I marry, she shall work for:
my wife.  The gown was the same gown, and there wa,
my mistress's twentieth mood!Th7orn. What, think you, will Master Walter say when
Pe comes back?  I fear he'll hardly know his country maid
again.  Has she yet fixed hler wedding day?
Fath. She has, Master Thomas.  I coaxed it firom hei
naid.  She marries MAonday week.
Thomn. Comes not Master Walter back to-day?.Fath. Your master expects him. [Bell rginging, L.] Per
taps thlat's he. I prithee go and open the d(,or; do, Maser Thornas, do; for proves it my master, he'll surely ques
tion me.
ThAn. And what should I do?
PFatth. Answer him, Master Thomas, and make him -ione
the wiser.  He'll go mad, when he learns how my lady
flaunts it! Go! open the door, I prithee.  Fifty things,
Master'homas, know you, for one thing that I know;
you can turn and twist a matter into any other kind of nmatter, and then twist and'. turn it back again, if needs be; sot
nmsch you servants of the town beat us of ihe country, MastIr Thomas.  Open the door, now; Jo, Master'h-mas,
do!                                        [Exemu?, l.
SCENE I1.-A Garden with two Arbors, R. and L.
Mter MASTER HEARTWELL, R., and MASTER WALI'ER, L,
meeting.
leart. Good Mastel Walter, welcome back again I




2810               THE HUNCHBACK.               [Acf 11
[Val I'm glad to see you, Master Heartwe'l.
lieart. How,
I pray you, sped the weighty bus'ness which
So sudden called you hence?WItl. WTeighty, indeed!
What thou would'st ne'er expect-wilt scarce belie teo
LoIig hidden wrong, wondrously come to hight,
And great right done! But more of this, anon.
Now of my ward discourse! Likes she the town?
How does she?  Is she well?  Can'st match me hJer
Amongst your city maids 1
lheart. Nor Court ones neither!
She far outstrips them all!.Wa!. I knlew she would.
What else could follow in a maid so bred?
A pure mind, Master Heartwell!-not a taint
From intercourse with the distempered town;
With which all contact was walled out; until,
Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it,
And sleep amidst infection.                 [C  Me. m
THeart. Master Walter!
WVal. Well?
Heart. Tell me, prithee, which is likelier
To plough a sea in safety?-he that's wcnt
To sail in it,-or he that by the chart
Is master of its soundings, bearings,-knows
Its headlands, havens, currents,-where'tis bold,
And where behoves to keep a good look out?The one will swim  where sinks the other one!
TWTal. The drift of this?
Ileart. Do you not guess it?
TVal. Humph!
tcart. If you would train a mal to live in tovw
kireed her net: in the country!
Wlal. Say you so?
And stands she not the test 1
Heart. As snow stands fire!
You~ country maid has melted all away,
And plays the city lady to the height:
Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners,
Shoemakers, jewellers, and haberdashers;
Her noons, to calls: her afternoons, to dressing;




ClexE II.]         tHE HUNCHBACt.        [
Evenings to plays or cards; and nights to ro;,ts.
Balls, masquerades! Sleep only ends the riot,
Which waking still begins I
TVal. I'm all amaze!
How bears Sir Thomas this?
Heart. Why, patiently;
Though, one can see, with p)ain.
Wal. She loves him?  Ha i!
That shrug is doubt! She'd ne'er consent to wed hil.t
ITnless she loved him!-never! Her young fancy,
The pleasures of the town-new things-bave caught
Anon their hold will slacken: she'll become
Her former self again: to its old train
Of sober feelings will her heart return;
And then she'll give it wholly to the man,
Her virgin wishes chose!                    [Crosses,
Heart. Here comes Sir Thomas;
And with him Master Modus.
IVal. Let them pass:
I would not see him till I speak with her.
[ They retire into the arbor, L
Enter CLIFFORD and MODUS, R.
Cif:  A dreadful question is it, when we love,
To ask if love's returned! I did believe
Fair Julia's heart was mine-I doubt i' now.
But once last night she danced with me, her hand
To this gallant and that engaged, as soon
As asked for! "Maid that loved would scar(e do this!
"Nor visit we together as we used,' When first she came to town."  She loves me less
Than once she did-or loves me not at all.   [Crosses, s
Mod. I'm little skilled, Sir Thomas, in the world;.What mean you now to do?
Cif. Remonstrate with her! 
" Come to an understanding, and, at once-"
If she repents her promise to be mine,
Absolve her from it-and say farewell to her. [Croste, a
1Mod. Lo, then, your opportunity-she comes, —
My cousiin with her-her will I engage,
Whilst you converse together.
Clif. Nay, not yet!




iO                IRHE HUNCHBACK.            [Anv R
My heart LUITas coward at the sight of her.
Stay till it finds new courage! Let them pass.
[They retire uap, a
Enter JULIA and HELEN, R.
IHel. So, Monday week will say good morn to thee
A maid, and bid good night a sober wife!
Jui. That Monday week, I trust, will never come
(hat brags to make a sober wife of me!
Hel. How changed you are, my Julia!
Jul. Change makes change.
lel. Why wedd'st thou, then?
Jul. Because I promised him.
Hed. Thou lov'st him?
Jizi. Do I?
Hel. He's a man to love:
A right well-favoured man!
Jul. Your point's well favoured.
Where did you purchase it f "1 In Gracechurch street V"
Bel. Pshaw! never mind my point, but talk of him.
ual. I'd rather talk with thee about the lace.
Where bought you it? In Gracechurch street, Cheaps;de
WWLitechapel, Little Britain? Can't you say
Where'twas you bought the lace?
Itel. In Cheapside, then,
A,d now, then, to Sir Thomas! He is just
Tt-e height I like a man.
4ul. Thy feather's just
The height I like a feather! Mine's too long!
W hat shall I give thee in exchange for it?
Hel. What shall I give thee for a minute's talk
bout Sir Thomas?
Jul. Why, thy feather.
Hlel. Take it!
"tf if. [Aside to Modus.j What! likes she not te speak
of me!"
Ilel. And now
t-t's talk about Sir Thomas —" much, I'm sure,' He loves you.
"Ju dl. Much, I'm sure, he has a right!
"'l'hose know 1 who would give their eyes to be
" Sir Thomas for my sake!




c  li.i,     THE HUNCHBACK.                   8I
" Iel. Sucn, too, know I.'But mong them, none that can compaie with him,'Not one so graceful.
" Jul. What a graceful set'Your feather has!
" Hel. Nay, give it back to me' Unless you pay me for't.
", ul. What was't to get?
" Ilel. A minute's talk with thee about Sir Thomas,"l
Jul. Talk of his title and his fortune, then.
"Clif [Aside.] Indeed! I would not listen, yet I must
J~',." An ample fortune, Helen! I shall be
A. happy wife!  What routs, what balls, what masqules,
What gala days!
":Clif: [Aside.] For these she marries me!';She'll talk of these!
" Jul." Think not, when I am wftd,
1'll keep the house as owlet does her tower,
Alone,-wbhen every other bird's on witing.
I'll use my palfiey, Helen; and my coach;
My barge, too, for excursions on the Thames;
What drives to Barnet, Hackney, Islington!"
What rides to Epping, Hounslow, and Blackheath!
What sails to Greenwich, Woolwich, Fulham, Kew!
1'11 set a pattern to your lady wives!
Clf: [Aside, R. c.] Ay, lady?  Trust me, not at my ex
pense.
J.ul. And what a wardrobe! I'll have change of sulb
For every day in the year! and sets for days!
My morning dress, my noon dress, dinner dress,
_And evening dress! Then will I shew you lace
A fodt deep, can I purchase it; if not,
I'll specially bespeak it. Diamonds, too'
Not buckles, rings, and ear-rings, only-but
WI tole necklaces and stomachers of gems I'11 shine! be, sure I will.
0Cif. [Aside.] Then shine away;,'Who covets thee may wear thee: I'm not he I
"' J'd. And then my title! Soon as I put on
" The ring, I'm Lady Clifford. So I take
"P recedence of plain mistress, were she e'en'M"  e rivhest heiress in the land i At town




AAL                THE HUN JHBACR.             Am 11
Oi 0  ountry ball, you'll see me take the Lead
"While wives that carry on their backs the wealth
"To dower a princess, shall give place to me;" Will I not profit, think you, by my right I
"Be sure I will! Marriage shall prove to me
"A never-ending pageant. Every day
Shall show how I am spoused!"  I will be known
for Lady Clifford all the city through,
Mind fifty miles the country round about.
Wife of Sir Thomas Clifford, baronetNot perishable knight; who, when he makes
A lady of me, doubtless must expect
ro see me play the part of one.           [Grosses, a
Claf [Comes forward, a. c.] Most true.
But not the paret which you design to play.
Jul. A list'ner, sir!
Cl(f. By chance, and not intent.
Your speech was forced upoi, mine ear, that ne'er
More thankless duty to my heart discharged!
Would for that heart it ne'er had known the sense
Which tells it'tis a bankrupt there, where most
It coveted to be rich, and thought it was so!
Oh, Julia! is it you. Could I have set
A coronet upon that stately brow,
Where partial nature hath already bound
A brighter circlet-radiant beauty's ownI hai oeen proud to see thee proud of it,So for the donor thou haast ta'en the gift,
Not for the gift ta'en him. Could I have poured
The wealth of richest Croesus in thy lap,
I bad been blest to see thee scatter it,
So I were still thy riches paramount!
Jul. Know you me, Sir?
Clif. I do! On Monday week,
We were to wed; and are, so you're content
The day that weds, wives you to be widowed.  Take
The privilege of my wife; be Lady Clifford!
Outshine thy title in the wearing on't!
My ccffers, lands, are all at thy command;
Wear all but, for myself, she wears not mne,
H" AlthougL. the roveted of every eye,"
Who would not wear me foi myself alone    Icrouses, a




taezr Ilt..         THE 1ll'NCU1BAtA.               33
Jult. And do you carry it so proudly, Sir?
Clif. Proudly, but still more sorrowfully, Lady I
I'1l lead thee to the church on Monday week.
Till then, farewell! and then, —farewell forever!
[Tlakes of ii. Vis
Oh, Julia, I have ventured for thy love,
As the bold merchant, who, for only hope
f son e rich gain, all former gains will risk!
ibefore 1 asked a portion of thy heart,
I periled all my own; and now, all's lost!
[Exit, R. AModus follows i6Mm
Jul. Helen!
Hel. What ails you, sweet?
Jul. I cannot breathe-quick, loose my girdle, oh!
[Faints.
MASTER WALTER, R., and MASTER HEARTWELL, L., comnd
forwuard.
tVal. Good Master Heartwell, help to take her in,
Whilst I make after him!-and look to her!
Unlucky chance that took me out of town!
[Exit Walter, R. —Heartwell bear. v.,    L. tRelex
following.
SCENE III.-The Street.
Enter CLIFFORD, R., and STEPHEN, I.., meetbeg.
Ste. Letters, Sir Thomas.
Cl/f. Take them home again;
I shal. not read them now
Ste. Your pardon, Sir,
But here is one directed strangely.
Clf. How?
Ste.' To Master Clifford, gent'eman. now styled
Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet.'
O1i. Indeed!
WI -hence comes that letter T
Ste. From abroad.
Cl/f: WVhich is it?
Ste. So please you, this, Sir thomas.
CiJ:. Give it me.           [Crosses, L. readazm  let.a
Ste. That ietter hi ings not news, to wish him joy upon




34r THR, HUNCHBACk.                         [Aies 
[f he was listuraed before, which I g.uessed by his lkio
he was, he is not more at ease now. His hani to nhis head I
A most unwelcome letter! If it brings him news of disa
aster, fo;tune does not give him his deserts; for nevel
waited servant upon a kinder master.
Clif. Stephen!
Ste. Sir Thomas!
Clif: From my door remove'he plate that bears my name.
Ste. The plate, Sir Thomas?
Clif. The plate. Collect my servants and mstruct them
All to make out their claims unto the end
Of their respective terms, and give them in
To my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow.
That I keep house no more. " As you go home,' Call at my coachmaker's, and bid him stop'The carriage I bespoke. The one I have,'Send with my horses to the mart whereat'Such things are sold by auction-they're for sale.: Pack up my wardrobe-have my trunks conveyed'To the Inn in the next street"-and when that's done,
Go to my tra' 6rmen, and collect their bills,
An3 orlllg tnem to me at the Inn.
Ste. The Inn!
Clif. Yes; I go home no more. WVhy, what's ttWe miat
ter?
What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up?
You'll get another place. I'll certify
You're honest and industrious, and all
That a servant ought to be.
Ste. I see, Sir Thomas,
Bome great misfortune has befallen you.
Cliff No!
IK've health; I' ve strength; my reason, Stephcen, aid
A_ heart that's clear in truth, with trust i. God.
go great disaster can befall the man,
Who's still possessed of these! Good fellow, leave man,-What you would learn, and Lave a right to know,
"I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, hence t'
Mischance has fallen on me-but what of that 
Mischance has fallen on many a better man.
I prilbee leave me, I grow sadder while




ctZl Ill.J        THE HUNCHtACE                  -.
" I see the eye with which you view my grief~
"'Sdeath, they will out! I would have been a man,:' IHad you been less a kind and gentle one."
Now, as you love me, leave nme,
Ste. Never master
So well deserved the love of him that served him.
(Exit Stepje, a,
C/?f. Misfortune likoh company: it seldom
Visits its friends alone. Ha, Master \a.lter,
Aad riffled, too I I'm in no mood for him.
Enter MASTER WALTER, L.
TWal. So, Sir!-Sir Thomas Cliffold! —what with speed
And choler-I do gasp for want of breath!
Clif Well, Master Walter? 
Wal. You're a rash young man, Sir!
Strong-headed and wrong-headed-and I fear, Sir 
Not over delicate in that fine sense
Which men of honour pri(le themselves upon, Sir!
Clf Well, Master Walter!
Wal. A yoang woman's heart, Sir,
fs not a stone to carve a posy on!
Which knows not what is writ on't-which you may buy
Exchange, or sell, Sir —keep or give away, Sir;
It is a richer, yet a poorer thing!
Priceless to him that owns and prizes it;
Worthless when owned, not prized; which makes the man
That covets it, obtains it, and dis(ards it,A fool, if not a villain, Sir!
Clif  Well, Sir!
Tal. You never loved my walJ, Sir!
Clf: The bright Heavens
Bear witness that I did!
W7al. The bright Heavens, bir,
Bear not false witness. That you loved her not,
Is clear, —or had you loved her, you'd have plucked
Youlr heart from out your breast,'ere cast her from yoe(
heart i
1ld as I am, I know what passion is.
"It is the summer's heat, Sir, which in vain' We look for frost in! Ice, like you, Sir, knows' But little of such heat!" We're wronged, Sr, wlonged I




3(6                TqE HIUNCACBAC.             A' You wear a sword, and so do I!
" Cf.:  Ve.l, Sir!
" Wal. You know the use, Sir, of a sword I
Clf: "I do.'To whip a knave, Sir, or an honest man-'A wise man or a fool-atone for wrong,'Or double the amount on't."  Master Walter,
touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think
Vo my side lies the grievance. "1I would no: say so,
" Did I not think so."  As for love-look, Sii,
That hand's a widower's, to its first mate sworn
To clasp no second one. As for amends, Sir,
You're free to get them from a man in whom
You've been forestalled by fortune, " in the spite'Which she has vented on vim, if you still'Esteem him worth your anger." Please you read
that letter. Now, Sir, judge if life is dear,
To one so much a loser.
Ta.l. What, all gone!
Thy cousin living they reported dead!
Clif. Title and land, Sir, unto which, add love;
All gone, save life-and honour! —which, ere I'll lose,
I'll let the other go!
FWal. We're public here,
Anld may be interrupted.  Let us seek
Sonme spot of privacy. Your letter, Sir!   [Ozwes it 6baci
Tho' fortune slights you, I'll not slight you! Not
Your title or the lack of it 1 heed.
Whether upon the score of love or hate,
WVith you, and you alone, I settle, Sir.
We've gone too far.'Twere folly now to part
Without a reckoning.
Clif. Just as you please
W'al. You've done a noble hldy wrong.
Clif. That lady
Has done me wrong.
Tal. Go to! Thou.xt a boy
Fit to be trusted with a plaything, not
A. woman's heart. Thou know'st not what it is!
~ Clifford's reply commences here in the representation-hib eon be
mq, Wronged, Sir, wronged!




~efl I.]          TTHE RUNCBs1ALr.'Which I wili prove to thee, soon as we find
Convenier.t place. Come on, Sir! you shall get
A lesson that shall serve you for the rest
O' your life. I'll maale you own her, Sir, a piece
Of Nature's handiwork, as costly, free
From bias, flavw, and fair as ever yet
oer cunning hand turned out. Come on, Sir — c)me t
END OF ACT II.
AC T   III.
SCENE I.-A Drawing Room.
Enter LORD TINSEL and the EARL OF ROCHDALE.
Tin. Refuise a lord! A saucy lady, this I
[ scarce can credit it.
Roch. She'll change her mind.
~My agent, Master Walter, is her guardian.
Tin. How can you keep that Hunchback in his office c
He mocks you.
foch. He is useful.  Never heed him.
My offer now do I present through him.
He has the title-deeds of my estates.
She'll listen to their wooing. I must have her.
Not that I love her, but that all allow
She's fahiest of the fair.
Pin. Distinguished well:
Twere rnst unseemly for a lord to love 
Leave that to commoners.  Tis vulgar. She's
Fetrothed, you tell me, to Sir Thomas Clifford I
Roch. Yes.?in. That a commoner should thwart a Lord I
YV t not a commoner. A Baronet
Is fish and flesh. Nine parts plebeian, and
Patri:cian in the tenth.  Sir Thomas Clifford!
A mi n, they say, of brains. I abhor brains
As T do tools!  They're things mechanical
So fsna ale we  bove our forefathers:




-3 ftE IAnCHBACK.         fait tll
T hey to their brains did ov e their titles as
Do lawyers, doctors. WVe to nothing owe them,
Which makes us fvr the nobler.
Roch. Is it so I'in. Believe me. You shall profit by my traihit g:
You grow a Lord apace. I saw you meet
A Levy of your former friends, who fain
Had shaken hands with you. You gave them fingers I
You're now another man.  Your house is changed, —
Your table changed-your retinue-your horseWhere once you rode a hack, you now back blood;Befits it then you also change your friends!
Enter WTIT AMS, 1.
JWil. A gentleman would see your lordship.
Tin. Sir 
What's that?                    [ Crosses to [Villi41.
TVil. A gentleman would see his lordship.
Tin. How know you, Sir, his lordship is at home 1
Is he at home because he goes not out?
He's not at home, though there you see him, Sir,
Unless he certify that he's at home!
Bring up the name of the gentleman, and then
Your lord will know if he's at home or nriot.
[Exit -l'illiatnS, L
Your man was porter to some merchant's door,
Who never taught him better breeding than
To speak the vulgar truth! Well, Sir?
WILIAMIXs  having re-entered, i..
TTV. His name,
So please your lordship, Markham.
Tin. Do you know
The thing?
Roch. Right well! I'faith. a hearty fellow,
Son to a worthy tradesman, " who would do'^ Gieat things with little means; so entered him
"In the Temple. A good fellow, on my life.
Naught smacking of his stock I"
Tin. You've said enough!
His lordship's not a, home. rExit WIilliams,:.' We d
uat go




Sesa 1.1           THE HtJUNCCIBACK                31'By healts but orders!"  Had he family —
1Blood-tho' t )nly were a drop-his heart
Would pass foar s( mething; lacking such desert.
Were it ten times the heart it is.'tis naught!
Enter WILLIAMS, L
Wil. One Master Jones hath asked to see your iornisRtv
Tin. And what was your reply to Master Jones I
Vtil. I knew not if his lordship was at home.
Tin. You'll do.  Who's Master Jones?
Roch. A curate's son.
Tin. A curate's? Better be a yeoman's son!
" Were it the rector's son, he might be known,
"Because the rector is a rising man,' And may become a bishop. He goes light.
"The curate ever hath a loaded back.' He may be called the yeoman of the church
"That sweating does his work, and drudges on
While lives the hopeful rector at his' ease."
How made you his acquaintance, pray?,Rock. We read
Latin and Greek together.
Tin. Dropping themAs, now that you're a lord, of course you've done
Drop him. —You'll say his lordships not at home.
WVil. So please your lordship, I forgot to say,
One Richard Cricket likewise is below.
Tin. Who?  Richard Cricket! You must see hlm,
Rochdale!
A noble little fellow! A great man, Sir!
Nut knowing whom, you would be nobody
1 won five thousand pounds by him!
Rock. Who is he 1
naeve! heard of him.
Tin. What! never heard
Of Richard Cricket! never heard of him!
Why, lie's the jockey of Newmarket; you
May win a cup by him, or else a sweepstakes.
i bade him call upon you. You must see him.
His lordship is at home to Richard Cricket.
Roch. Bid him wait in the ante-room.'[Williams go 
T-n. The ante-room?




u                 THtH HUNCHBACKR            [Amt II
The best roon: in your house! You do not know
The use of Richard Cricket! Show him, S.r,
Into tile drawing-room. [Exit TWilliams, L.] Your lordhhip
needs
Must keep a racing stud, and you'll do well
To make a friend of Richard Cricket. "Well, Sir,
W hat's that I
"Enter WILLIAMS.
~ Wil So please your lordship, a petition.
" Tin. Had'st not a service'mongst the Hottentots
" Ere thou carn'st hither, friend? Present thy lord
"With a petition! At mechanics' doors,
"At tradesmens', shopkeepers', and merchants' only,
"Have such things leave to knock! Make thy lord's gate
"A wicket to a workhouse:  Let us see it"Subscriptions to a book of poetry!
"Who heads the list?  Cornelius Tense, A.M.
"Which means he construes Greek and Latin, works
"Problems in mathematics, can chop logic,
A" nd is a conjurer in philosophy,
"' Both natural and moral.-Pshaw! a man
" WVhom nobody, that is, anybody, knows.'Who, think you, follows him?  Why, an M.D..'An F.R.S., and F.A.S., and then
" A D.D., Doctor of Divinity,
"Ushering in an L.L.D., which means
"Doctor of Laws-their harmony, no doubt,
"The difference of their trades! There's nothing here
"13But languages, and sciences, and arts,
"' Not an iota of nobility!' We cannot give our names. Take back the paper,
"4 And tell the bearer there's no answer for hime'a hat is the lordly way of saying' No.'
W Bat, talking of subscriptions, here is one
M To which your lordship may affix your namne.
"Rock. Pray, who's the object?
"Tin. A most worthy man!
" A man of singular deserts; a man,
s, In soleving whom, your lordship will serve mae,w.' Signor Cantata.
" Roch. He's a friend of yours I




kon [1 ]           THE HUNCHBACK                     41
T' /n. Oia, n, I know him not I  I've not that pleoaur.,' But Lady Dangle knows him; she's his friend'He will oblige us with a set of concerts,'Six concerts to the set.-The set, three guineas.' Yur lordship will subscribe?
" Roch. Oh, by all means!
" Tin. HIow many sets of tickets' Two at least'You'll like to take a friend;  I'll set you dowiv
Six guineas to Signor Cantata's concerts."
And now, my lord, we'll to him,-then we'll walk.
Roch. Nay, 1 would wait the lady's answer.
Tin. Wait!
Take an excursion to the country; let
tier answer wait for you.
KToch. Indeed!
Tin. Indeed.
Befits a lord naught like indifference.
Say an estate should fall to you, you'd take it,
As it concerned more a stander-by
Than you. As you're a lord, be sure you evei
Of that make little, other men make much of;
Nor do the thing they do, but right contrary.
WVhere the distinction else,'twixt their and you.
[ Ett.ont, L
SCENE II.-An Apartment in.Master Iteartwell's Ihouse
Table and two chairs, placed a little out of the centre to
wards L.
MASTER WVALTER discovered, seated t,. of table, looking
through title-deeds and papers.
TWal. So falls out every thing as 1 would have it,
axtact in place and time. - This lord's advances
Receives she,-as, I augur, in the spleen
Of wounded pride she will,-my course is clear.
3he comes-all's well-the tempest rages still.
JULIA enters, L., and paces the room in a state of'igi ea 
citement.
Jul. Wl.at have my eyes to do with water 1  Fire
RPcome3 them betl er                         [GCrosses, R.`41. True




42                THE HUNCHBACK.             [AcTr I'Jut. Yet, must I weep
T'o be so monitor'd, and by d man!
A man. that was my slave!  whom I hale seen
Knee. at my feet from morn till noon, content
With leave to only gaze upon my face,     [('rosMAe L' And tell me what he read there,-till the page
1. knew by heart, I'gan to doubt I knew,
" Emblazoned by the comment of his tongue!"
And he to lesson me! Let him come here
On Monday week! He ne'er leads me to c iurch I
" I would not profit by his rank or wealth,
"Tho' kings might call him cousin, for their sake!"
I'll show him I have pride!               [Crosses, ni
TVal. You're very right!
Jul. He would have had to-day our wedding day!
I fiued a month from this. He prayed and prayed:I dropped a week.  He prayed and prayed the more.I dropped a second one. Still more he prayed i
And I took off another week,-and now
have his leave to wed or not to wed!
f-e'll see that I have pride!
Wal. And so he ought.
Jdl. Oh! for some way to bring him to my feet!
But he should lie there! Why,'twill go abroad,
T hat he has cast me off. That there should live
The man could say so! Or that I should live
To be the leavings of a man!               [ Crosse, a
-Wal. Thy case
I own a hard one.
IJid. Hard!'Twill drive me mad!
His wealth and.title! I refused a lordi did! that privily implored my handAnd never cared to tell him on't! So much
[ hate him now, that lord should not in vain,n!vplore my hand again!
I Val. You'd give it him.         [Up frorm F.
JAl. I would.
W7al. You'd wed that lord?  [1dvauea,,
Jul. (r.) That lord I'd wed;-or any other lrd, -
Only to show him, I could wed above him!
WTal. Give me your hand and'word to that.
Jul. There! Take
bly hand an ] word d




~dE~XZ Ii.         THE IUNCHBA tL,
tFUal. Tiat lord hath offered you
His hand again.
Jul. lIe has?
Wal. Your father knows it: he apirX vas of  imn
TI.ere are the title-deeds of the estates,  [Points to oaft
Sent for my jealous scrutiny. All sound,No flaw, or speck, that e'en the lynx-eyed law
Itself could find. A lord of many lands!
In Berkshire half a county; and the same
In Wiltshire, and in Lancashire! Across
The Irish Sea, a principality!
And not a rood with bond or lien on it!
Wilt give that lord a wife? Wilt make thyself
A countess 1 Here's the proffer of his hand.
[Shows her a leZtr
Write thou content, and wear a coronet!
Jul. [Eagerly.] Give me the paper.
Wal. There! Here's pen and ink.
[Goes up L. of table and lays the letter down for her to siga
Sit down. [Points to chair R. of table.] Why do you pause
A flourish of
The pen, and you're a countess.
Jial. "My poor brain
" Whirls round and round "  I would not wed him now
Were he more lowly at my feet to sue
Than e'er he did!
Wal. Wed whom?
Jul. Sir Thomas Clifford.
IVal. You're right.
Jul.' "His rank and wealth are roots to doubt;
And while they lasted, still the weed would grew,
Howe'er you plucked it.  No!  That's o'ei —That's
done!"
-as never iady wronged so foul as I!          [ IJVte
W'al, Thon'rt to be pitied.
Jul. FAroused.] Pitied!  Not so bad
As that
tr'al, Indeed thou art, to love the man
That spirns thee!
Jul. Love him!  Love!  If hate could find
A word more harsh than its own name, I'1 take it,
To speak the love I bear hi.!                [ l'e:Rps




A4                 THE HUNCHBACk R&cw I
WIal.'Write thy own name,
And show how w  ear akin thy hate's to hate.
Jul. [ Trites.]'Tis done!
Weal.'"is well! I'll come to y-u ancgn.
[ Takes the paper hastily, and exai,,
Jult [.Alone.] I'm  glad'tis done   I'm very g'"al't
done!
I've done the thing I should. From my disgrace
This lord shall lift me'bove the reach of scorn-' That idly wags its tongue, where wealth and state
4 Need only beckon to have crowds to laud!"
Then how the tables change! The hand he spurned,
His betters take! Let me remember that I
I'11 grace my rank! I will! I'11 carry it
As I were born to it! I warrant none
Shall say it fits me not:-but one and all
Co-nfess I wear it bravely, as I ought!
And he shall hear it! ay! and he shall see it!
I will roll by him in an equipage
Would mortgage his estate —but he shall own
His slight of me was my advancement! Love me I
He never loved me! if he had, he ne'er
Had given me up I Love's not a spider's web,
But fit to mesh a fly-that you can break
By only blowing on't! He never loved me!
Eie knows not what love is-or, if he does,
He has not been o'er chary of his peace!
And that he'll find when I'm another's wife,
Lost!-lost to him for ever! Tears again!
Why should I weep for him?  Who make their woa,
Deserve them! What have I to do with tears?
Enter HELEN,..
fel. News! Julia, news!
Jul. Whlat! Js't about Sir Thomas 1
Itel. Sir Thomas, say you?  He's no more Sir Thopm.'
That cousin lives, as heir to whom, his weal:t
&nd title came to him.
Jul Was he not dead?:ei. No more than I am dead.
Jul1. I would'twere not so. sro.sej, i
1/ed. What say you, Julia?




CRPzt 1it          THE HUNUHBLik 
Jul. Nothiang
Hiel I could kiss
That cousin! could'nt you, Julia I
Jul. Wherefore.
Hel Why,
F1o coming back to life again, as'twere
rq ponI his cousin to revenge you
Jul. Helen!
Htel. Indeed,'tis true   WVith what a sorry grace
The gentleman will bear himself without
His title! Master Clifford! Have you not
Some token to return him?  Some love-letter 
Some brooch?  Some pin?  Some anything?  I'll tn
Your messenger, for nothing but the pleasure
)f calling him plain' Master Clifford.'
Jul. Helen!
Hel. Or has he aught of thine   \Write to him, Julia,
Demandinrg it! Do, Julia, if you love me;
And I'll direct it in a schoolboy's hand,
As round as I can write,'To NMaster Clifford.'
Jul. Helen!
Hel. I'll think of fifty thousand ways
Co mortify hin m! I've a twentieth cousin,
d care-for-naught at mischief.  Him I'll'set
With twenty other madcaps like himself,
Fo walk the streets the traitor most fiequents
And give him salutation as he passesHow do you, Master Clifford!'
Jul. [HIighly incensed.] Helen I
Hel. Bless me!
Jul. I hate you, Helen!                 [OCouee to a
Enter MoDus, L..Mlfodus. Joy for you, fair lady!
Far baronet is now plain gentleman,
And hardly that-not master of the means
~1o boar himself as such! The kinsman lives
Who-c e only rumored death gave weaith to him,
And title.  A hard creditor he proves,
Wh, keeps strict reckoning-will have interest
A, well as principal.  A ruined man
s,w SI'r Thoma3 Clifford.




a4                 THE HUNCHBACK.              An it
fHe  I'm g'ad on't.
MlIodus. Ard so am I. A scurvy trick it vas
He served you, Madam.  Use a lady so!
I merely bore with him, I never liked'him.
rel. No more did I. No, never could I think
lie looked his title.
Modus. No, nor acted it,
If rightly they report. " He ne'er disbursed
To entertain his friends,'tis broadly said,
"A hundred pounds in the year."  He was most pIae
In the appointments of a man of rank,
Possessing wealth like his. "His horses, hacks!
" His gentleman, a footman! and his footman,
"A groom! The sports that men of quality
"And spirit countenance, he kept aloof from,
" From scruple of economy, not taste," As racing and the like."  In brief, he lacked
Those shining points, that, more than name, denote
High breeding; and, moreover, was a man
Of very shallow learning.
Jul. Silence, Sir!
For shame!
Hel. \Why, Julia!
Jul. Speak not to me! Poor!
Most poor! I tell you, Sir, he was the making
Of fifty gentlemen-each one of whom
Were more than peer for thee! His title, Sir, [Crosses,.
Lent him no grace he did not pay it back!
Tho' it had been the highest of the high,
Hie would have looked it, felt it, acted it,
As thou could'st ne'er have done! When found you out
Yovi liked him not?  It was not e'er to-day!
"Or that base spirit I must reckon yours,
W'.hichl smiles were it would scowl-can stoup to hate
And fear to show it!"  He was your better, Sir,
And is!-Ay, is! though stripped of rank and wealth,
His nature's'bove or fortune's love or spite,
To blazon oi to blur it!       [Retires up c. c'osses to a
JModus. [Crosses to Helen.] I was told
Much to disparage him —I know not wherefore.
elt. And so was I, and know as much the caise.
[Medus and HIelen go up, c.-Julia comes down, a




ln  IITi]         THE HUNCHBACK.                  47
Enter MASTER WALTER, with parck]ments, L.
WFeal. Joy, nry Julia!                [Crosses to &B
Impatient love has foresight! Lo you here,
The marriage deeds filled up, except a blank
To write your jointure! What you will, my girl!
Ie this a lover.  Look! Three thousand pounds
I'er annum for your private charges! Ha!
"There's pin money! Is this a lover I Mark
" What acres, forests, tenements, are taxed
"For your revenue; and so set apart,
"That finger cannot touch them, save thine own."
Is this a lover!  What good fortune's thine!
Thou dost not speak,; but,'tis the way with joy!
With richest heart, it has the poorest tongue!
[JModus comes dclown a. of Julia —ielen remains tp, c
iM4odus. What great good fortune's this you speak c f, Sir 1
Wal. A coronet, Master Modus!  You behold
The wife elect, Sir, of no less a man,
Than the new Earl of Rochdale-heir of him
That's recently deceased.
"Hel. My dearest Julia,
"Much joy to you!
" Modus. All good attend you, Madam!"
TVal. This letter brings excuses from his lordship,
Whose absence it accounts for. He repairs
To his estate in Lancashire, and thither
We follow..Jzl. When, Sir.
TVal. Now.  This very hour!
Jul. This very hour! Oh, cruel, fatal haste!
Wal. Oh, cruel, fatal haste!'What meanest t.ou t
Have I done wrong to do thy bidding, then.
I've done no more. Thou wast an off-cast bride,
An(i would'st be an affianced one-thou art so!
Tho' —'dst have the slight that marked thee oalt for scra
Converted to a means of gracing thee —
It. is so! "If our wishes come too soon,
" What can nmake sure of welcome?  In my zeal
" ro win thee thine, thou know'st, at any time
" I'd play the steed, whose will to serve his lord,
With his last breath gives his last bound f( r him I




48                 MriE HUNCHEACK.'Ac gn
I' Since only loorn lave I despatched what well
"Had kept a brace of clerks, and more, on foot —
"And thenr, perhaps, had been to do again!-'Not fillished, sure, complete-the compact firm,' As fate itself had sealed it!
"Jul. Give you thanks!'T ho''twere my death! my death!
"F Torl. Thy death!  Indeed,' For happiness like this, one well might die 1"
rake thy lordl's letter!
Enter ThIonIAs with a letter, L..Vell?
Tiho. This letter, Sir,
The gentleman that served Sir Thomas Clifford —
Or him tnat was Sir'I'homas-gave to me
For Mistress Julia.
Jul. Give it me!      ['l'rowing away the one slte holds
WTal. [Snatch.ing it.] For what 1    [Exit Thomzas, L.
Would'st read it?  lie's a bankrupt! stripped of title,
House, chattels, lands and all! A naked bankrulrpt,
With neither purse nor trust'! W\ould'st read his letter 1
A beggar!  Yea, a beggar! fasts, unless
tle dines on alms! How durst he send thee a letter 
"A fellow cut on this hand, and on that,
Bows, and is cut again, and bows again!
"Who pays you fifty smiles for half a one"And that given grudgingly!"  To send you a letter!
I burst with choler! Thus I treat his letter!
[Tlears and throws it on the ground
So   I was wrong to let him ruffle me;
lIe is not worth the spending anger on!
I prithee, Master lModus, use despatch,
And presently make ready for our ride.
Ynu, IIelen, to my Julia look-a change
C1 dresses will suffice.  She must have new ones,
Matches for her new state! Haste, fiiends. [Exeunt JMa,
dus and HIelen, R.] My'Julia!
Why stalrd you poring there upon the ground?
Time flies.  Your rise astounds you?  Never heed-?' u'dl lay my lady countess like a queen!   [Exeuxt. I
END OF AC[ Ill.




Absx 1.1           THE HUNCHBACK                   6
ACT IV.
SCENE 1,-A Room in the Earl of VLochdale'ts
Enter HEI.E.LE, C. D.
lel. I'm weary wandering from room to room i
i castle after all is but a houseThe dullest one when lacking company I
Were I at home I could be company
Unto myself. "I see not Master Walter.
"He's ever with his ward. I see not her.
"By Master Walter will she bide, alone.
rMAy father stops in town. I can't see him.' "My cousin makes his books his company."
I'll go to bed and sleep. No- I'll stay up
And plague my cousin into making love!
For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect.
How dull he is that hath not sense to see
What lies before him, and he'd like to find!
I'll change my treatment of him-cross him, where
Before I used to humour him. He comes,
Poring upon a book.
Enter MODUS, L.
What's that you read?
alodus. Latin, sweet cousin.
Hel.'Tis a naughty tongue
I fear, and teaches men to i1e.
Mlodus. -To lie!
Idel. You study it. You call your cousin sweet,
And treat her as you would a crab. " As sour'" -.fwould seem you think her, so you covet her I
W- rhy, how the monster stares, and looks about!"
You construe Latin, and can't construe that?
iiodus. I never studied women.
IHel. No; nor men.
Else would you better know their ways: nor read
In 1,resence of a lady.    [Strikes the book frn m his 
Miodus. Right, you say,
And well you served me, cousin, so to strike
The volume from my hand. I own my fault.




lk                 THE HfUNCHBACk.               y 
So please yoi, —may I pick it up agaiL I
I'll put it in my pocket!
eld. Pick it ap.
He fears me as 1 were his grandmother!
What is the book?
Modus.'Tis Ovid's Art of Love.
iMel. That Ovid was a fool!
llodus. In what?
Ilel. In that:
To call that thing an art, which art is none.
AModus. And is not love an art?
I-el. Are you a fool,
As well as Ovid 1  Love an art! No art
But taketh time and pains to learn. Love comea
With neither. Is't to hoard such grain as that,
You went to College? Better stay at home,
And study homely English.' AModus. Nay, you know not
The argument.
Ilel I don't  I know it better
Than ever Ovid did! s" The face;,-the form,-' The hcart,-the mind we fancy, cousin; that's
"The argument! Why, cousin, you know not-ueg,'
Suppose a lady were in love with thee,
Could'st thou. by Ovid, cousin, find it out?Could'st find it out, was't thou in love thyself?
Cou!d Ovid, cousin, teach thee to make love t
I could, that never read him.  You begin
With melancholy; then to sadness; then
To sickness; thern to dying-but not die!
She would not let thee, were she of my mind;
She'd take compassi(on on thee.  Then for hope;
Fromr hope to confidence; firom confidence
To boldness;-then you'd speak; at first entreat,
Then urge; then flout; then argue; then enforce
Make Iprisoner of her hand; besiege her waist;
i'}lreaten her lips with storming; keep thy ward
And carry her! My sampler'gainst thy Ovil I [Croe,,
Why, cousin, are you frightened, that you stand
As you were stricken dumb? The case is clear
You are no soldier.  You'll ne'er win a battle.
You care too much for blows I




13,wn 1 1          THE HtNCHBACK.                  51
Modus You wrong me mere.
At Schooi I was the champion of my form
And since I went to College-.iel. That for College! [Crosses, R., flillips with ierJfi
Modus. Nay, hear me!'ger,
Irel. Well   W \Vhat, since you went to College?
J You know what men are set down for who boast'" Of their own bravery. Go on, brave cousin!"
What, since you went to College. Was there not
One Quelltin Halworth there?  You know there was,
And that he was your master!
Alodus. He my master!
Thrice was he worsted by me.
itel. Still was he
Your master.
Molidus. He allowed I had the best!
Allowed it, mark me! Nor to me alone,
But twenty I could name.
HIel. And mastered you
At last! Confess it, cousin,'tis the truth.
A proccLor's daughter you did both affectLook aLt me and deny it! Of the twain
She more affected you;- I've caught you now,
1 "Bold cousin! Mark you! Opportunity"
An opportunity she gave you, Sir,Deny it if you can!-but though to others,
When you discoursed of her you were a flarne,
To her you were a wick that would not light,
Though held in the very fire! And so he won her.
Won her, because he wooed her like a man,
For all your cuffings. cuffing you again
With most usurious interest.  Now, Sir,
Protest that you are valiant!
/Iodus. Cousin Helen!
Hld. Well, Sir?
Modus. The tale is all a forgery!
Itel. A forgery!
lAlodiu. From first to last: ne'er spoke I
To a proctor's dtughter while I was at College.
llel. It was a scrivener's, thea —or somebody's.
But what concerns it whose?  Enough, you loved bea
midn, shame ipon you, let another take her I




Uti               9'IAE HUNCHBACK.             ACT IV
M6des. Cousin, I tellyou, if you'll only heal me,
I loved no woman while I was at College —
SaEve one, and her I fancied ere I went there.
el. Inldeed!  Now I'll retreat, if he's advancing.
" Comes he not on! Oh, what a stock's the man!"
Well, cousin l
1M1odus. Well. What more would'st have me say )
I think I've said enough.
Hfel. And so think I.
i did but jest with you. Yea are not angry 1
Shake hands! Why, cousin, do you squeeze me so?
Jlodls. [Letting her go.] I swear I squeezed you not i
Hel. You did not.
Mlodus. No,
I'll die if I did!
Hel. Why, then you did not, cousin:
So let's shake hands again-[He takes her hand as before
Oh, go, and now
Read Ovid!  Cousin, will you tell me one thing:
Wore lovers ruffs in Master Ovid's time?
Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on:And that you have to learn.  I-Iold up your head!
Why, cousin, how you blush. Plague on the ruff!
I cannot give't a set. You're blushing still!
W' Why do you blush, dear cousin 1 So,'twill beat me' I'll give it up.
" MIodus. Nay, prithee don't-try on!
" rel. Anrd if I do, I fear you'll think me bold.
"Modus. For what?
" Hel. To trust my face so near to thine.
" lodus. I know not what you mean
"Hel. I'm glad you don't!"
Cousin, I own right well behaved you are,
Most marvellously well behaved! They've bred
You well at College. With another man
My lips would be in danger! Hang the ruff!
KMous. Nay, give it up, nor plague thyself, dear cousin
HIel. D-%r fool!     [ Throws the ruft on the gros4d
I swear the ruff is good for iutst
As little as its master! Thiere!-'Tis spoiledYou'll have to get another. IHie for it,
And wear it il the- fasl ion.of a wisp,




FmlSz II.]          THE HUNCHBACK.                   3
Ere T adj ist it for thee! Farewell, cousin
You've need to study Ovid's Art of Love.       [Exit, a
MlIodus. Went she in anger?  I will foilow her,No, 1 will not   Heigho! I love my cousin i
Oh, would that she loved me!  Why did she taunt me
With backwardness in love?  What could she meavn I
Seem she I love her, and so laughs at me,
Because I lack the front to woo her I Nay,
I'll woo her, then! Her lips shall be in danger,
Whel next she trusts them near me! Looked she at me
To-day, as never did she look before!
"A bold heart, Master Modus!'Tis a saying,
"A faint one never won fair lady yet.
" I'll woo my cousin, come what will on't! Yes!"
[Begins to read, pauses, and thrusts book into his bosom.,
Hang Ovid's Art of Love! I'll woo my cousin! i Exit, R
SCENE. II —The Banqueting Room in the Earl of Rochdale'
Mansion.
Enter MASTER WALTER and JULIA, L. U. E. lie walks
across to a chairn brings it forward and sits, R. C., she
stands, L.
WTal. This is the banqueting-room.  Thou see'st as far
It leaves the last behind, as that excels
The former ones. All is proportion here
And harmony! Observe! The massy pillars
May well look proud to bear the lofty dome.
"You mark those full-length portraits? They're the noraoa
"The stately heads, of his ancestral line.
"Here o'er the feast they aptly still preside!
"Mark those medallions! Stand they forth or not
"In bold and fair reliefS"  Is not this brave 
Jul. [Abstractedly.] It is.
TWal. It shoulo te so.  To cheer the blood
That flows in noble veins, is made the feast
That gladdens here! "You see this drapery?
"Tis richest velvet! Fringe and tassels, gold!
"Is not this costly I
"'J1. Yes.
" Pal. And chaste, the while?
"Both chaste and costly I




64                 THE HUNCHBACKL              [Ae' IY
"Jil  Yes."
Wat. TGets up and crosses to L., poA,;s ft, L fTr rmirror.
Come hither! There's a mirror for ye a  Seae 
Cae sheot from floor to ceiling! Look into it.
Salute its mistrees! Dost not know her?
Jul. (['ighing deeply.] Yes!
" Val. And sighest thou to know her?  Wait until
To-rr.orcow, when the banquet shall be spread' In the iair hall; the guests, already bid,
"Around it; here, her lord; and there, herself;
"Presiding o'er the cheer that hails himn bridegroom
"And her the happy bride! PDost hear me I
"Jul. [Sighing still more deeply.] Yes."
VWtal. These are the day-rooms only, we have seen,
For public and domestic uses kept.
['11 show you now the lodging rooms.  [Goes, then turm
and observes Julia standing perfectly abstracted
You're tired.
[,et it be till after dinner, then.  Yet one
"d like thee much to see-the bridal chamber.
[Julia starts, crosses her hands upon her breast, and looks
upwards.
I see you're tired; yet is it worth the viewing,
If only for the tapestry which shows
The needle like the pencil glow with life. [She sits on tha
chair Master WTalter has risen from, R. C. He L.
The story's of a page who loved the dame
He served-a princess!-" Love's a heedless fhing 
" That never takes account of obstacles;
"4 Makes plains of mountains, rivulets of seas,
"That part it from its wish. So proved the page,
" Who from a state so lowly looked so high,- -
" But love's a greater lackwit still than this.
* Say it aspires-that's gain! Love stoops-that's loss I
Yoa know what comes."  The princess loved L1:e page.
Shall I go on, or here leave off?
Jul. Go on.
Wa/. Each side of the chamber shows a different stage
Of this fond youth and fonder lady's love.*
In representation the passages fohowing this are curtailed —-and
Xme aene runs as follows:-Master Walter continues



bei 14r.t HE   JNCHBSACK
"First-no, it is not that.
"Jul. Oh, recollect I
"Wal. And yet it is!
"Jul. N) doubt it is.  Wrhat is't.
" Wal. He holds to her a salver, with a cup:
" Eis cheek more mantling with his passion, than'The clup with the ruby wine.  She heeds him nat,'For toco great heed of him;-but seems to hold
D)ebate Detwixt her passion and her pride,
That's like to lose the day. You read it in
Her vacant eye, knit brow, and parted lips,
4 Which speak a heart too busy all within'To note what's done without. Like you the tale I
-' Jul. I list to every word.
i' }Wal. The next side paints'The page upon his knee.  He has told his tale;' And found that, when he lost his heart, he played' No losing game; but won a richer one!
"There may you read in him, how love would seem
" Most humble when most bold,-you question which
"Appears to kiss her hand-his breath or lips!
In her you read how wholly lost is she
Who trusts her heart to love.  Shall I give o'er?
" Jul. Nay, tell it to the end. Is't melancholy?'Wal. To answer that would mar the story.
"Jul. Right.'Wal. The third side now we come to.
"Jul. What shows that?
" Wal. The page and princess still.  But stands het
sire
IBetween them. Stern he grasps his daughter's arm,
"Whose eyes like fountains play; while through her teda
Wtal. The first side paints their passion in the dawntoe the rext side'tis shining open day-!n the stird there's clouding,-I but touch on these
To make a long tale brief, and bring thee to
Thb  last side.
Jul. What shows that?
Wal. The fate of love
That will not be advised.-The scene s a dungeon 
It's tenant is the page-he lies in fetters.
Jul, Hard!!wd as the steel, the hands that put them on!




66                THE HUNCHECK.              rAcv IT
" fer passion Aihines, as, through the fountain drk ps,'The sun! His minions crowd around the page I'They drag him to a dungeon.
"Jul. Hapless youth I
W" Tal. Hapless, indeed, that's twice a captive! hbeat
"And body both in bonds. But that's the chain,
Whilich balance cannot weigh, rule measure, touch
"Define the texture of, or eye detect,
"That's forged by the subtle craft of love!
" No need to tel' you that he wears it. Such
"The cunning of the hand that plied the loom,
"You've but to mark the straining of his eye
"To feel: the coil yourself!
" Jul. I feel't without!
"You've finished with the third side; now the fourth! 
"' Wal. It brings us to a dungeon, then.
"Jul. The page,
"The thrall of love, more than the dungeon's thrall,
"Is there.?
" MTal. He is. He lies in fetters."
Jul. Hard!
Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on!
[Wal. Some one unrivets them.
Jul. The princess I'Tis!
TVal. It is another page.
Jul. It is herself!
TaVl. Her skin is fair; and his is berry-brown.
flis locks are raven black; and hers are gold.
Jul. Love's cunning at disguises! spite of lockA,
Skin, vesture,-it is she, and only she!
What will not constant woman do for love,
That's loved with constancy! Set her the tank,
Virtue approving, that will baffle her!
O'ertax her stooping, patience, courage, wit!
My life upon it,'tis the princess self,
Transformed into a page!'Wal. The dungeon dooi
Stands open, and you see beyond —
Jul. Her father!
Wal. No; a steed.
Jul. [Starling up.] Oh, welcome steed,
My heart bzunds at the thought of thee!  Thou cowm.'"s




ScIM. UI.]         THE HUNCHBACK 
To bear the page from bonds to liberty,
What else I
Wal. [Rising.] The story's told.
Jul. Too briefly told!
Oh, happy princess, that had wealth and state
]'o lay them down for love! " Whose constaunt free' Appearances approved, not falsified!
~ A winner in thy loss as well as gain."
M"al. Weighs love To much??Jul. What would y6a weigh'gainst love
That's true'  Tell me with what you'd turn the scale I
Yea, make the index waver?  TWealth. A feather x
Rank? Tinsel against bullion in the balance!
The love of' kindred?  That to set'gainst lovej
Friendship comes nearest to't; but put it in,
And friendship kicks the beam!-weigh nothing'ganmst ii
Weigh love against the world!
" Yet are they happy that have naught to say to it.
" Val. And such a one art thou.  Who wisely wed.
" Wed happily. The love thou s'peak'st of,' A flower is only, that its season has,'  hich they must look to see the withering of,
"Who pleasure in its budding and its bloom!
"But wisdom is the constant evergreen
"Which lives the whole year through   Be that youi
flower!
Enter a SERVANT, L.
Well I
Ser. My,Lords secretary is withol t.
-Te brings a letter for her ladyship,
And craves admittance to her.
WT&, 7. Show him in.
Jul. Ntl!
W'al. Thou mus see him. To 3howzslight to him,
WVere slighting him that sent him. Show him in!
[Exit Servaak',
Stne errand proper for thy private ear,
lerid(ios the letter. What's the matter?  Why
This paleness and this trembling?  Mark me, Julia 
[If, from these nuptials which thyself invitedVA hich, at thy seeking, came-thou would'st be freed&




58                THE HUNCHBACK              [A.c IJ
Thou hast gone too far' Receding were disgrace,
Sooner than see thee suffer which, the hearts
That love thee most, would wish thee dead! Reflect 4
Take thought! Collect thyself!  With dignity
Receive thy bridegroom's messenger! for sure
As dawns to-morrow's -sun, to-morrow night
Sees thee a wedded bride!                     l/t, /
Jul. [Alone.] A wedied bride?
Is it a dream   "Is it a phar.tasm'Ti,3'Too horrible for reality! for aught else' Too palpable!" Oh, would it were a dream!
Ilow would I bless the sun that waked me from it!
" I perish! Like some desperate mariner
"Impatient of a strange and hostile land,
"Who rashly hoists his sail, and puts to sea,
"And being fast on reefs and quicksands borne,
"Essays in vain once more to make the land,
" Whence wind and current drive him"-I am wrecked
By mine own act! What! no escape? no hope?
N:)ne! I must e'en abide these hated nuptials!
Hated!-Ay! own it, and then curse thyself!
That mad'st the bane thou loathest-for the love
Thou bear'st to one, who never can be thine!
Yes —love! Deceive thyself no longer. False
To say'tis pity for his fall, —" respect,
" Engendered by a,hollow world's disdain,
"Which hoots wh6miifickle fortune cheers no more I
"'Tis none of these:"'tis love-and if not love,
Why, then, idolatry!' Ay, that's the name
To speak the broadest, deepest, strongest passion,
That ever woman's neart was borne away by!
He comes! Thou'dst play the lady,-play it now!
Egte.r SERVANT, L., conducting CLIFFORD, plainly atftred, e
EARL OF ROCHDALE's Secretary,
Se-. His lordship's secretary.            rExt. L
Jul. Speaks he not?
Or does he wait for orders to unfold
His 5us.ness.  Stopped his businss3 till I spoke,
I'd hold nay peace fo -ever!
[Clfford I beels, presenting. letty;
Does he kneel?




srte  iI.]         THE HUNCHBACK, La
A lady am I to mny heart's content!
Could he unmake me that which claims his kLee,
I'd kneel to him —I would! I would!-Your will t
Clif This letter from my lord.
Jul, Oh, fate! who speaks?
Clif. The secretary of my lord.              [Risa
Jai. I breathe!
o.)ld have sworn'twas he!
[Makes an efot to look at hia. but is uanalb
6,J like the voiceI dare not look, l'est there the form should stand!
HIow came he by that' voice.'Tis Clifford's voice,
If ever Clifford spoke!  "My fears come back"Clifford the secretary of my lord!
Fortune hath freaks, but none so mad as that i
It cannot be!-it should not be!-a look,
Arid all were set at rest.
[ Tries to look at him again,,tt cannit.
So strong my fears,
Dread to confirm them takes away the power
To try and end them! Come the worst, I'll look.
[She tries again, and is again unequal to the task.
I'd sink before him, if I met his eye!
Clif. Wilt please your ladyship to take the letter?
Jdl. There Clifford.speaks again! Not Clifford's breath
Could more make Clifford's voice!  Not Clifford's tongus
And lips more trame it into Clifford's speech!
A question, and'tis over! Know I you 1
Clif: Reverse of fortune, lady, changes friends:
It turns them into strangers. What I am,
I have not always been'
Jul. Could I not name you?
CliJ. [f your disdain for one, perhaps too bold
When hollow fortune called him favourite,* Now by her fickleness perforce reduced' To take an humble tone," would suffer ye-ali. I might?
Clif. You might i
Jul. Oh, Clifford! is it you?
CGlf. Your answer t) my lord.       [Git/e t.he 
Jul. Your lord!
C/f, Wilt write it.




"60                 THE HUNCHBACK.               1Ao 1l
Or, will it p.ease you send a verbal one I
I'll bear it faithfully.
Jul. You'll bear it?
Clif. Madam,
Your pardon, but my haste is somewhat urgent.
My lord's impatient, and to use despatch
Were his repeated orders.
Jtl. Orders. Well,                      [Takes ctletr
i'll read the letter, Sir.'Tis right you mind
Hiis lordship's orders. They are paramount!
Nothing should supersede them!-stand beside them!
They merit all your care, and have it! Fit,
Most fit they should! Give me the letter, Sir.
Cl01f. You have it, Madam.
Jul. So! How poor a thing
I look! so lost, while he is all himself!
Have I no pride?        [Shie: rings the Servant enters, a
Paper, and pen and ink!.               [Exit Servant, R.
if he can freeze,'tis time that I grow cold!
I'11 read the letter.
[Opens it, and holds it as about to read it,
Mind his orders! So!
Quickly he fits his habits to his fortunes!
He serves my lord with all his will'! His heart's
In his vocation.  So!  Is this the letter?'Tis upside down-and here I'm poring on't!
Most fit 1 let him see me play the fool!
Shame!  Let me be myself!
[Servant enters, R., with materials for wriLwng.
A table, sir,
"And chair."
[ The Servant brings a table and chair., R., and goes out.
She sits awlile, vacantly gazing on, the letter —thea
looks at Cljffrd.
[lo  plainly shows his humble suit!
it fits not him that wea-rs it! I have wronged him I
lie can't oe hdppy —does not look it-is not I
That eye which reads the ground is argument
lnough! He loves me.  There i let him stand,"
And I am sitting!            [Rises and poin!s to a cha,~
Pray you, take a chair.  [lie bows as acknowledging, and
declining the honor. —S/he looks at him'awhile.




8chilv Ii.] -       TH1E HUNCHB1ACK.
F Ilifford, why don't you sl eak to mef I       I eeps
Clif: I trust
You're happy.
Jul. Happy!  Very, very happy!
Yot see I weep, I am so happy! Tears
Are signs, you know, of naught but happinesd'
When first I saw you, little did I look
ro be so happy! Clifford!
Clif. Madam I
Jwl. Madam!
[ call thee Clifford, and thou call'st me madam I
Clf:.'Such the address my duty stints me to.
Thou ait the wife elect of a proud EarlWhose humble secretary sole, am I.
Jul. Most right! I had forgot! I thank you, Sir,.For so reminding me; and give you joy,
That what, I see, had been a burthen to you,
Vs fairly off your hands.
_Cli. A burthen to me!
"Mean you yourself?  Are you that burthen, Julia?"
Say that the sun's a burthen to tlhe earth!
Say that the blood's a burthen to the heart!
Say health's a burthen, peace, contentment, joy,
Fame, riches, honours; every thing that man
Desires, and gives the name of blessing to! —
E'en such a burthen, JuliiAvJere to me
Had fortune let me wegl~ha. sfiJul. [Aside.] On the brinl: o' 
Of what a precipice I'm standing. —-?Back
U[ark! while the flrQi ifhi ii1t6 do't!
k minuute longer-  v1lthVifPlh~l &I's self
do'e sure to silo:i      do. r'One effort! [Sits.] Threi
[ ecoves 1te4gW   f —*A4 kJ't akes up the letter and reads
0Co wed to-morrow nihlilt! Wed whom I A man
V'hom I carl never lo..t1 should before
Have thought of that.  Tomorrow night! Thi's houi
To-morrow! How I tremble!  "Happy bands
6 To which my- heIstIch freezing welcome gives,
"As se ot' igu ~h   ~ugh   me!"  &t what means
Will':'not the -desperdte snatch! What's hor mur's price 1
Norfriends, nor l0vers,-no, nor life itself!
Clifford! This:roment leave rr. I




THE HUNCHBACk              fArs,V
[ CliTord retires up the stage,'out qtf te ri
Is ne gane.
Oh, docile lover! Do his mistress' wish
That went against his own! Do it so soon!Ere well'twas uttered'! No good-bye to her!
No word! no look!'Twas best that so he weno, 
Alas, the strait of her, who owns that best,
Which last she'd wish were done! What's,tsz me now I
To weep t To weep!
[Leans Aher head upon her arm, which rest upon the desk
-her other arm langingi listless at her side.  Cifford
comes down the stagre, looks a moment at ter, approaches'her, and kneeling, takes her hand.
Olif. Mvy Julia!,Jul. Here again.
Tp! up! By all thy hopes of Heaven, go hence!
To stay's perdition to me! Look you, Clifford!
We.e there a grave where thou art kneeling now
I'd walk into't, and be inearthed alive,
Ere taint should touch my name! Should some one come
And see thee ln.it. thus  Let go my hand!
Remember, Clifforal, I'm a promised bric'.eAnd take thy arm away! It has no right
To clasp my waist! Judge, you so poorly of me,
As think I'll suffer this I  My honour, Sir!
[ She beq/c~from hiim, qwittintg h.era,eat
I'm glad you've forced me.t-gbioect  myselfYou'll find that I can do so ardz ds.
Clif:   "I was bold-a i ibrBJe  m'l'Forgetful of your stiiiq   ntr gb.
There wa;s a time I helAdq jthai   ~hid!
There was a time I mighb hbcv.l-x wait
had forgot that time wa,-I-AW'~'":t,
I pray you, pardon me!    I'!lJrlf-Ji wo.'0,oi
Jul,. [Softened.] I do so, Ciioir4,0t'I9VEff II
Clivf I shall no more offenIdLT.6dj lo id
J$l Make sure of that.      i: I woH! wo
No longer is it fit thou keep'st thbIalpd  m doid,
In's lordship's household. Give itj *J/o, n hour remain not in it
(1/. WVhrefore X
FFl Live




Ics-  II]        THE HUNCHBAtK.                 63
in the same house with me, and I another's?
Put miles, put league's between us! The same land
Should not contain us. " Oceans should divide usWith barriers of constant tempests-such' As maliners durst not tempt!"  Oh, Clifford! Clifford I
Ras]} was the act, so light that gave me up,
That stung a woman's pride, and drove her madlTill,. in heI fienzy, she destroyed her peace i
Ok, it was rashlv done! Had you reproved —
Expostulated, —had you reasoned with meI ried to find out what was indeed my heart,I would have shown it —you'd have seen it. All
[Iad I hen as naught can ever be again!
Clif Lov'st thou me, Julia?
Jul. Dost thou ask me, Clifford?
Clif. These nuptials may be shunnedJul. With honour?
Clif.. Yes.
Jul. Then take me! Hold!-hear me, and take nm
then!
Let not thy passion be my counsellor!
Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother. Be
The iealoui guardian of my spotless name!
Scan thou my cause as'twere thy sister's! Let
Thy scrutiny o'erlook no point of it,And turn it o'er, not once, but many a time;That flaw, speck, yea, the shade of one,-a-soil
So slight, not one out of a thousand eyes
Could find it out,-may not escape thee; then
Say if these nuptials can be shunned with honour!
Clif. They can.
Jul. Then take me, Clifford!        [They embraoa
Enter MASTER WALTER, R. U. E., comes down, a.
IVal. Ha! What's this?
Ha! treason! What! my baronet that was,
Mny secretary now ~ Your servant, Sir!
Is't thus you do the pleasure of your lord,That for your service, feeds you, clothes you, pays you 1
Or- tak'st thou but the name of his dependent I"
What's here I-a letter! r natches letter from table a.1
Fifty crowns to one




i"                 THE HUNCHBACKL             fA&w 1V
A forgery I I'm wrong. It is his hand.
This proves thee double traitor!
UClf. Traitor!
jul. Nay,
Control thy wrath, good Master Walter. Do, —And I'll persuade him to go hence.
[l Master Walter retires up the stage, R. with letter, gOa
remains there till CliJford is of.
I Boe
For me thou bearest this, and thank thee, Clifford I
As thou hast truly shown thy heart to me,
So truly I to thee have opened mine!
Time flies! To-morrow, if thy love can find
A way, such as thou said'st, for my enlargement —
By any means thou can'st, apprize me of it,And, soon as shown, I'll take it.
Wal. (R.) Is he gone.
Jul. He is-this moment! If thou covet'st me,
Wivn me and wear me! May I trust thee?  Oh!
If that's thy soul, that's looking through thine eyes,
Thou lov'st me, and I may!-I sicken, lest
I never see thee more!
Clif As life is mine,
The ring that goes thy wedding finger on,
No hand save mine shall place there!
Wal. Lingers he?
Jul. For my sake, now away! "And yet a word' By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me!
"Go, now! Yet stay!"  Oh, Clifford, while you're here
I'm like a bark distressed and compassless,
That by a beacon steers; —when you're away,
Tlat bark alone, and tossing miles at sea!
Now go! Farewell!  My compass-beacon-land!
When siatl  mine eyes be blessed with thee again!
C1i]. Farewell!                               Exit, L
SJTi, Art giae I  All's care! All's chance —all's dark.
ness!'Is led of by MasteI  Walter, a
Nlo OF ACT IV




is:u I.]           THE HUNCI; BACKI                U
ACT V.
SCENE I —-An Apartment in the EARL OF ROC HDAL ~'S.
Enter HELEN and FATHOM, L.
Fath. The long and the short of it is this- -if she mnar
ies this lord, she'll break her heart!  I wish you coulo
wee her, madam.  Poor lady!
Hel. How looks she, prithee?
Fath. Marry, for all the world like a dripping wet cam
bric handkerchief!  She has no colour, nor strength in
ner; and does nothing but weep-poor la(ly!
iel. Tell me again, what said she to thee?
Fath. She offered me all she was mnistress of, to take the
letter to Mastel Clifford.  She drlew her purse from her
pocket-her ring from her finger —her ear-rings fiom hei
ears; but I was forbidden, and refused. And now I'm
sorry for it! Poor lady!
iel. Thou should'st be sorry. Thou hast a hard heart,
Fathom.
Fath. I, madam! My heart is as soft as a woman's.
You should have seen me'when I came out of her cham.
ber-poor lady!
Hlel. Did you cry.
Fath. No; but I was as near it as possible. I a hard
heart i I would do anything to serve her, poor sweet lady 
itel. Will you take her letter, asks she you again?
Fath. No-I am forbid,
Hel. Will you help Master Clifford to an interview with
her?
Fath. No -Master Walter would find it out.
hlel. Will you contrive to get me into her chamber?
Fath. N)-you would get me into mischief
iel. Go to! You would do nothing to serve her, Yo
a soft heart  Ye u have no heart at all! You feel aot fio
her!
Fath. But I tell you I do-and good right I have to feel
for her  I have been in love myself.
Hel. With your dinner!
7'XA. 1 would it lad been! My pain would have soon




Du                 THE HUNCHBACK.              [AcT 
been over, and at little cost. A fortune I squandered upon
her!.-trinkets-trimmings —treatings —what swallowed
up the revenue of a whole year!  Vasn't I in love I Six
months I courted her, and a dozen clowns, all but one,
did I disburse for her in that time! Wasn't I in love I
An hostler-a tapster-and a constable, courted her at the
same time, and I offered to cudgel the whole three of them
for her! Wasn't I in love?
ilel. You are a. valiant man, Fathom.
Fath. Am not i?  Walks not the earth the man I am
afraid of!
liel. Fear you not Master Walter?
Fath. No.
Iel. You do.
Fath. I don't.
Idei. I'll prove it to you. You see him breaking your
young mistress's heart, and have not the manhood to
stand by her.
Fath. What could I do for herl
iel. Let her out of prison.  It were the act of a man
Fath. That man am I!
Hel. Well said, brave Fathom!
TPath. But nry place!lel. I'll provide thee with a better one.
Falh.'Tis a capital place! So little to do, and so much
to get ior't. Six pounds in the year; two suits of livery;
shoes and stockings, and a famous larder. He'd be a bold
man that would put such a place in jeopardy.  My place,
Madam, my place!
2Hel. I tell thee I'll provide thee with a bettei place,
Thou shalt have less to do, and more to get. Nowv, Fath.
omn, hast thou courage to stand by thy mistress?
Fat]h. I have!
led.L TLat's right.
LPath. I'll let my lady )ut.
Enter MASTER WALTER, unperceived, c.
[lei. That's right. When, Fathfn 
Fath. To-night.
Hel. She is to be married to-night.
Fath. This evening, then. Master Walter is now in the
hbrary; the key's on the outside, and I'll lock himn ia.




SC-Erx 1j          THE HUNCHBACK                   6
Hel. Excellent! You'll do it?
Fath. Rely upon it. How  he'll stare whei, he fin' 
himself a prisoner, and my young lady at liberty i
Hlel. Most excellent  You'll he sure to do it I
Fathk. Depend upon me! When Fathom  undertnkes
thing. he defies fire and waterTIral. [Coming forward.] Fathom!
Fath. Sir!
VWal. Assemble straight the servants,
Fath. Yes, Sir!'Val. Mind,
A nd have them in the hall when I come down.
Fathi. Yes, Sir!
[Val. And see you do not stir a step,
But where I order you.
Fath. Not an inch, Sir!
IVal. See that you don't,-away! [Exit Fathom  L,
So, my fair mistress,
What's this you have been plotting? An escape
For mistress Julia?
Hel. I avow it.
TWal. Do you?
1'el. Yes; and moreover, to your face I tell you,
Most hardly do you use her.
TVal. Verily!
IHel. I wonder where's her spirit! Had she mine
She would not take't so easily. Do you mean
To force this marriage on her?
[Wal With your leave.
Hel. You laugh.
Wal. Without it, then. I don't laugh now.
Hel. If I were she, I'd find a way to escape.
Wall. What would you do?
lde. I'd leap out of the window i
Wlfal. Y ur window should be barred..Tel I'd cheat you still!'ttd ang myself ere I'd be forced to marry!
Wal. WVell said! you shall be married, then, t, -ngltt
lHe. Miarried to-night!
Mial. As sure as I have said it.
Hcl. Two words tc that  Pray, wb 3s t be my bride
groom?




t  THE HUNASHBACK.           [ALc V
~Wal A daugliter's bridegroom is' jr frtahei's choice,
1fel. My father's daughter ne'er shall wed such bride
groom!
TVal. Indeed!
Hel. I'll pick a husband foi myself.
WTcl, Indeed!
Itel. Indeed, Sir; and indeed again!
TVal. Go dress you for the marriage ceremony.
Hel. But, Mlaster Walter, what is it you mean 2
Enter MODUS, R.
Wal. Here comes your cousin;-he shall be your brides
mart!'S he thought's a sudden one,-that will excuse
iefect in your appointments. A plain dress,So'tis of white, —will do.
Hel. i'll dress in black.
I'li quit the castle..Wal. That you shall not do.
Its doors are guarded by my lord's domestics;
Its avenues-its grounds: what you must do,
Do with a good grace.  In an hour, or less,
Your father will be here.  Make up your mina
To take with thankfulness the man he gives you.
Now, [Aside] if they find not out how beat their hearts,
I have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses.    [Exit, r.
[Helen and MIodus stand at opposite wings, make a long
pause, then bas/Afully look at each other.
Iel. Why, cousin Modus!  What!  Will you stand by
And see me forced to marry?  Cousin Modus,
Have you not got a tongue. Have you not eyes'
D)o you not see I'm very-very ill,
And not a chair in all the corridor 1
Miodus. I'll find one in the study. [Going towards, c D
liel. Itang the study!
Jflodus NMv rlom's at hand   I'll fetch cne thence.
IGoing a
SIel. You snarl't!'11 faint ere you Rome back!
Modus. What shall I do?
Hel. Why donl't you ofter to support me?  Well I
Give me your arm —be quick! [lkiodus ofers his arm.' Is
triw' the way




Sb'ct:  I          THE HUNCHIIHBACK.              69
To heip _ iady when she's like to faint I
0'); dirop unless you catch me! [Falls against.in.- -ls
qupports her.l That will do;
I'm oetter now —[Ie  fgrs to leave her.] —don't leave me 
Is one well
Because onle's better    f Hold my hand. Keep so.
4 I'll soon recover, so you move not. Loves he — Asld
t4 Which I'1l be sworn he does. he'll own it now."
Well, cousin Modus 1
Alodus. Well! sweet cousin t
lIel. Well?
You heard what Master Walter said'
Jffodus. I did.
Hlel. And would you have me marry. Can't you speak i
Say yes or no.
-Modus. No, cousin.
Hel. Bravely said!
And why, my gallant cousin t
Modus. Why?
Hel. Ah, why!Women, you know, are fond of reasons-why
Would you not have me marry'l How you look
s it because you do not know-the reason I"
You mind me of a story of a cousin
Who once her cousin such a question asked.
He had not been to college, though-for books,
Had passed his time in reading ladies' eyes,
Which he could construe marvellously well,'Though writ in language all symbolical."
Thus stood they once together, on a dayAs we stand now-discoursed as we discourser,
"But with this difference,-fifty gentle weods
"He spoke to her, for one she spoke to him!"' WVat a dear cousin! well, as I did say,"
As now I questioned thee, she questioned him
Ane what was his reply?  To tl ink of it
bets my heart beating —'twas so kind a one!
So like a cousin's answer-a dear cousin I
A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin I
VWhat (lid he say?
Mlodus. On my soul I can't.ell
iBel, A man migh find it out,




70                THE HtNCHBACK.              [/cet
Though never read he Ovid's Art of Love.
What did he say?  He'd marry her himself I
How stupid are you, cousin! Let me go!
JKlodus. You are not well yet.
Hel. Yes
nocdus. I m sure you're not.
1iel. I'm sure I arr.
Modus, Nay, let me hold you, cousin I
I like it.
ilel. " Do you? I would wager you
" You could not tell me why you like it. Well!
"You see how true I know you!'"  How you staela
What see you in my face to wonder at?
Modus. A pair of eyes!
Hel. " At last he'll find his tongue-[Aside.]"
And saw you ne'er a pair of eyes before?
Mlgodus. Not such a pair.
"1 el. And why?
" Modus. They are so bright!
"You have a Grecian nose."
ilel. Indeed?
Modus. Indeed!
Hel. What kind of mouth have I?
Modus. A handsome one.
I never saw so sweet a pair of lips!
I ne'er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin!
el. Cousin, I'm well,-you need not h-il me now,
Do you not hear? I tell you I am well!
I need your arm no longer —take't away!
So tight it locks me,'tis with pain I breathe!
Let me go, cousin! Wherefore do you hold
Your fa:e so close to mine? What do you mean 7
Modus. You've questioned me, and no v I'll questir,, u yta
fel. What would you learn 1
Modus. The use of lips?
Hel. To speak
7.Mlodus. Naught else?
Hld. " How bold my modest cousin grows!"
Why, other use know you?
Xodus. I do.
del. Indeed!
~ou're wondrous wise! And play, what is it I




ctm IL             THE HUNCHBACK                   71
Mdus. This!                     [Attempts to kiss,ir
Blel. Soft! My hand thanks you, cousin-for ray lips
1 keep them for a husband! [Crosses, R.] Nay, stand off!
I'll not be held in manacles again i
Why do you follow me?
Mlodus. I love you, cousin!
I 1. Oilh, cousin, say you so!  That's passing strange 1
"' Fa.ls out raost crossly —is a dire mishap-"
A thing to sigh ttr, weep for, languish for,
&nd die lbr 
Modus. D131e for!
Hel. Y es, with. laughter, cousin!
For, cousin. i love you!
Modus. And youi'l be mine?
Hel. I will.
3Modus. Vour hand upon it.
TH/l. [F-Rnd and heart.
[lie to thv dressing room, and I'll to mineAttire tbee for the altar-so will I.
Whoe'ar may claim me, thou'rt the man shall have m'.
Away! Despatch! But hark you, ere you go,
Ne'er brag of reading Ovid's Art of Love!
Modus. And cousin! stop-one little word with you!
[Beckons Helen over to him, snatches a kiss.-She runs
of, R.; he takes the book from his bosom, which he
Ihad put there in former scene, looks at it and throws
it down - Exit, L.
SCENE II.-Julia's Chiamber
Enter JULIA, L.
Jul No word from him, and evening now set in!
lie cannot play me false! His messenger
Is dogged —or letter intercepted. I'm
Bis3t with spies!-No rescue!-No escape!
TILe nflur at hand that brings my bridegroom home I
No relative to aid me-friend to counsel me!
" [A know, zt tie doa
"C(cme in.
"Enter Two FEMALE ATTENDANTS.
" Yo  will I




72                 THE HUNCHBACA 1,A6 
"1st Attend. Your toilet waits, mJ lady;'Tis time you dress.
"J d.'Tis time I die! [A peal of bells.] What's that t
" 1st ittend. Your wedding bells, my lady.
"Jul. Merrily
7 They ring my knell!
" [Second Attendant presents an open oax
"' And pray you, what are these?
"2nd Attend. Your wedding jewels.
" Jul. Set them by.
" 2nd Attend. Indeed
"'Vas ne'er a braver set! A necklace, brooch,
"And ear-rings all of brilliants,-with a hoop'To guard your wedding ring.
" Jul.'Twould need a guard
"That lacks a heart to keep it!
"2nd Attend. Here's a heart
"Suspended from the necklace-one huge d amond
"Imbedded in a host of smaller ones!
"Oh, how it sparkles!
"Jul. Show it me! Bright heart,
"Thy lustre, should I wear thee, will be false,-' For thou the emblem art of love and truth,"From her that wears thee, unto him that gives thee.
" Back to thy case! Better thou ne'er should'st leave it" Better thy gems, a thousand fathoms deep
" In their native mine again, than grace my neck,' A-ad lend thy fair face to palm off a lie!
" 1st Attend. Wilt please you dress?
"SJul. Ay! in infected clothes
New from a pest-house! Leave me! If I dress,
"I'll dress alone.  Oh! for a friend! Time gallops I
" [Exeunt Afttendant*.'
Meh that should guard me is mine enemy!'-,nstt ains me to abide the fatal die
MBy:ashness, not my reason, cast! He comes,
That iwili exact the forfeit! Must 1 pay it I
E''en at the cost of utter bankrupt:y y
Whast's to be done   l'Pronounce he vow, that parts
5My body from my soul! To what it loathes
Links that, whime tids is linked to what it loves!
Copderned:o sueb perdition!  Wha'ks to be done I




IcEas  11.1       THE HUNCHBIACK.                 3
Stand at the altar in an hour from this!
An hour thence seated at his board-a wife!
Thence!-frenzy's in the thought! What's so:) done 
Enter MASTER WALTER, L. U. E.
Wal. (L.) What! run the waves so high?  Art ready
Julia?
Youx Lor. will soon be here! The guests collect.
JUl. (R.) Show me some way to'scape these nuptial.!
Do it!
Some opening for avoidance or escape,Or, to thy charge, I'll lay a broken heart!
It may be, broken vows, and blasted honour 
Or else a mind distraught I
Wcal. What's this I
Jul. The strait
I'm fallen into, my patience-cannot bear I
It fiights my reason-warps my sense of virtue I
Religion! changes me into a thing,
I look at with abhorring!
Wal. Listen to me i
Jul. Listen to me and heed me! If this contract
Thou hold'st me to, abide thou the result!
Answer to heaven for what I suffer!-act!
Prepare thyself for such calamity
To fall on me, and those whose evil stars!Have linked them with me, as no past mishap,
However rare, and marvellously sad,
Can parallel! Lay thy account to live
A smileless life, die an unpitied deathAbhorred, abandoned of thy kind,-as one
Wh  had the guarding of a young maid's peace,Looked on, and saw her rashly peril it;And, when she owned her danger, and confessed
tier fault compelled her to complete her ruin 1
Ural. Hast done I
Jul. Another moment, and I have.
Be warned! Beware how you abandon me
T(, myself! I'm young, rash, inexperienced I temped4
By most insufferable misery!
Bold, desperate, and reckless! Thou hast age,
Experience, wisdom, and collectedness,



74                 TM h:UNUC BACG.            [Ar t
Power, fieedl m,-everything that 1 have not
Yet want, as none e'er wanted! Thou can'st save me
Thou ouglht'st! thou must!' I tell thee, at his feet
I'll fall a corse-ere mount his bridal bed!
So choose betwixt my rescue and my grave:
And quickly, too!  The hour of sacrifice
Is near! Anon the immolating priest
Will summon me! Devise some speedy means
To cheat the altar of its victim! Do it I
Nor leave the act to me!
Wal. IIast done?
Jul. I have.
Wal. Then list to me-and silently, if not
Vith patience -[Brings chairfor himself and her.-Shes 
he L.] Sit down.IH-ow I watched thee from thy childhood,
I'll not recall to thee. Thy father's wisdomWhose humble instrument I was-directed
Your nonage should be passed in privacy,
From your apt mind that far outstripped your years,
Fearing the taint of an infected world;i" For, in the rich ground, weeds, once taking root,
4" Grow strong as flowers." He might be right or wrongl
I thought him right; and therefore did his bidding.
Most certainly he loved you-so did I;
Ay I well as I had been myself your father!
[.His hand is resting upon his knee, Julia attempta te
take it-he withdraws it-looks at her —she hangs her
head.
Well; you may take my hand! "I need not say
" How fast you grew in knowledge and in goodnesa, —
"That hope could scarce enjoy its golden dreams,
"So soon fulfilment realized them all!
"Enough. You eame t( womanhood. Your heart.
"Pure as the leaf of the c )summate bud,
"That's new unfolded by the smiling sun,
A nd ne'er knew blight or canker!
I"She attempts to place her other hand on'is shoulder..
"he leans from her-looks at her-she hangs her heaa
"again.
Put it there!"
Where left I off' I know! When a good woman




-i.~.ts'.l-~    THE HUN,,HBACK.'~
Is fil, mitled, she grurws doubly good,
Hlw g.:zo, soe'er be[i(re!  I fouled the man
I thougnmi, at match for thee; andl, soon as found,
Prooosed iit to t;iiee.'Twas your father's will
Occasion uo'~ilg,  you should be married
Soon as you itaclei to wovmanllood: you liked
My choice —actepte( him.-We came to town;
Where, by impomunrt matter, summoned thence,
I left you an arharceed bride!
Jul. You did!
You did!      [Leans her head upon her hands and t'eep*
Wal. Nay, check thy tears!  Let judgment now,
Not passion, be awake. On my return,
I found thee-what?  I'll not Describe the thing
I fi'uiid thee then! I'll not describe my pangs
To see thee such a thing! The engineer
Who lays the last stone of his sea-built tower,
It cost him years and years of toil to raise,"And, smiling at it, tells the winds andi waves
" To roar and whistle now-" arid, in a night,
Beholds the tempest sportiig in its placehIight look aghast, as I did!
Jul. [Falling on her knees.] Pardon me!
Forgive me! pity me!
WTal. Resume thy seat.                    [RaiseJ,a
i pity thee; perhaps not thee alone
It fits to sue for pardon.:Jul. Me alone!
None other!
I'val. But to vindicate myself,
i I name thy lover's stern desertion of thee.
What was' thou then with wounded pride?  A thin,
" Tr, leap into a torlent! throw itself
Fromea precipice! rush into fire!  I saw
"Thy madness —knew to thwart it were to chafe it"And humoured it to take that course, i thought,
Adopltel, least'twould rue!
"Jul.'Twas wisely done.
q"-Wal. At least,'twas for the best.
" J4l. tfo blame thee for it, 0
\Was additngshame to shame  _'- 2ut, Master Walter'
Tbese nuptials,! —must they needs gc on I




7s6                 TqHE  UNCHB"ACI              [At 
Enter SERVANT, L U. E.
Ser. More guests
Arrive.
[Va7l. Attend  to them.  t. Ezi   erai t,UI/ D)ear Master Walte'!
is there no way to escape these nuptials I
TVal. Kl ow'st not
"h.at with these nuptials comes 1  Hast thou forget.ul. What?
TVal. Nothing! —  did tell thee of a thing.
Jil, VWhat was it?
iVal. To forget it was a fault!
Look back and think.
ual. I can't remember it.
T1al. [Up from chair.] Fathers, make straws your ehil
drien! Nature's nothing!
loot)d, nothing! Once in other veins it runs,
It no more yearneth for the parent flood,
Fhan doth the stream that from the source disparts.
Talk not of love instirctive —" what you call so,
I' s but the brat of custom! Your own flesh
"By habit only cleaves to you-without,
Math no adhesion!" [Aside.] So, you have forgot
fou have a father, and ale here to meet him?
Jul.'ll not deny it.
Wcal. You should blush for't.
Jzil. No!
To! no! dear' Master Walter! what's v father
"bllat you've not' been to m-e? [He turas  iis back th br,
Nay, turn not from me,
For at the name a holy awe I own,
That now almost inclines my knee to earth!
But thou to me, except a fathler's name,
Hast all the father been: the care-the loveThe guid(ance-the protection of a father!
Can'st wvonder, then, if like thy child I feel,
And feeling so, that father's claim forget,
Whom ne'er I knew, save by the name of one 
01, turn to me and do not chide me! or
If cI ou wilt chide, chide on! but turn to) me
VWal. [StrugghEIng with emotion.] My Julia   [ I e MPee
he holds,Ut his hand to /ewr  the eagea ly takes v,.




sem. lI.J            ThE  tUh tIACK R7
Jul.. Now, deax Master Walter, heal me I
Is there no way to'scape these nu)t.ials I
W4al. Julia,
A promise made, admits not of release,
"'Save by consent or forfeiture of those
W\l'o hold it-so it smull'e pon(lered weol
Before we let it go."  Ere man should say
1 btoke the word I had the power to keep,
['d-iuse the life I had the power to part with I
lRemember, Julia, thou and I to-day,
M isLt to thy father of thy training render
A strict account.  While holnour's left to us,
We've something —nothing, having all but that
Now fo)r thy last act of obedience, Julia!
Present thyself before thy bridegroom! [jShe _ti.*
Good!
My Julia's now herself!  Show him thy iheart,
And to his honour leave't to set thee free,
Or hold thee bound.-lThey come, they come!*  Thy fa
ther will be by t [llsic.1      "[Exeunt severallY
"SCENE III.- The Ba.nqueting Room.
"Enter MAST~ER WALTER and AIASTER  IEARTWELL.
"HIeart. Thanks, Master Walter i  Ne'er was child' more bent
"To do her father's will, you'll Wwn, than mine:
" Yet never one mo(re froward.
" fVal. All runs fair —
"Fair may all end!  To-day you'll learn the cause
" That took me out of town.  But soft awhile,
"Here comes the bridegroom with his fiiends, and here
"The all-obedient bride.,-n~.er "' on tme haud JULIA, and on the other," LoRD R"cH
DALV wtkh olouv TrINSE:L and friends; afterw7ds CLIP.
VORD, C. D.
IRAc  (C.) Is she not fair 
in representation,  they come, they cormo!' Is inserted as above,
and there is no succeeding change of scene: —ai the verses and direoo
tions marked with inverted, commas being omitted. Heartwell shotJd
*,tr with the friends of thb bride.




78                  THE HUNCEBACK                  [ACT I
An (L.' She'il do. Your servant, lady!  MUIter.VaI
ter,
We're glad to see you.  Sirs, you're welcome all I
What vait:hey for?  Are we to) wed or not?
We're ready —why doin't they present the bride!
hope they know she is to wed an EaIl.
Roch. Should I speak hrst I
Tin. NTot Clr your coronet!
a, as your fiiend, may make the first advance.
We're come her-e to be married.  Where's the bride I
Mal. There stands she, Lord.  If'tis her will to w&e:isa lordship's tree to take ner.
Tin. Not a step!
I as your fi'ieln,,nay lead her to your lordship.
Iair lady, by yori leave.                 [Crosses to let.
Jul. No! not to you.
Tin, I ask your hald to give it to his lordship.
Jul. Nor to his loraslnp-save he will accept
_My hand without my heart! " but I'll present
- Ay knee to him, and, uv his lofty rank,m' mpl(ore Ilim now to do a lofty deed
"Will lift its stately head above his rank," Assert himn nobler vet in worth than name,Andl, inl thle )lace of an unwilling bride,
" Tllto a willing debtor make him lord,"Whose thanks shall be his vassals, night and day'That still shall wait uponl him!"
Tin. Wrllat m(eatls this?                  [OrW,, I
Jill. What is't behoves a wife to bring her lord 1.Vtcl. A whole heart, and a true one.
Jul. I have none 
Not nalf a heart-the firaction of a heart!
Am I a woman it befits to wed?
ITal. Why, where's thy heart 
JuJi. Gone-out of my keeping!
iLost —past recovery! " right and title to itAnd all given up!" and he that's owner rm'%
so fit to wve;lr it, Awere it fifty hearts'hI give it ti. him all!
Wal. Thou dlst not mean
His L( r.ishi's secretary t
Jul. Yes Away




9ck'~ Ihn.J        TeE  UNCHBACL                  79
Disguises! In that secretary know
The mastei of the heart, of which, the pc or,
Unvalued, empty casket, at your feet,Its jewel gone,-I now despairing throw! ].K
" Of his lord's bride he's lord! lord paramour t i
"To whom her viigin homage first she paid,-'Gainst whom rebelled ill frowardness alone —
Nor knew herself how loyal to him, till
Another claim'd her duty-then awoke
To sense of all she )wed him-all his worthAnd all her undeservings!"
TWal. Rise, my Julia!
Tin. Lady, we come not here to treat of hearts,Bult marriage; which, so please you, is with us
A simple joining, by the priest, of hands.
A ring's put on; a prayer or two is said;
You're man and wife, —and nothing more! For hearts
We oft'uer do without, than with them, lady!
Cl/f: So does t)ot wed this lady.
[Advances, c. Julia goes to him as for protectsm
Tin. Who are you 1
C/fl I'm secretary to the Earl of Rochdale.
Tin. My lord 1
Roch. i know him not.
Tin. I know him now —
Your Iordship's rival! Once Sir Thomas Clifford.
Clif. Ay, Sir; and once this lady's bridegroom —wka
Then loved her-loves her still!
Jul. Was loved by her —Though then she knew it, not!-is loved by her
As now she knows, and all the world may know I
Tin. We can't be laughed at. We are here to wed:
knd shall fiilfil our contract.
Jul. Clifford!
Clit. Julia!
]ou will not give your hand-?
[A pause-Julia seems wtterly Ia
Ia Z2. Yoa have forgot
Again  \'ou have a father!
Jul. Brine him nosw,To see thy Julia justify thy training,
And lay h~R life down to redeem her worl I




50 aHE fHUNCHIBACIL                           I AZ0 I
Wza1. And as) redooems her all!  [Cross~e, c.] Ls it y aw
will,
My lord, these nuptials should go ncu 
PRoc. It is.
Wal. Then is it mine they stop I
Ti:i. I told your lordship
You should not keep a Hunchback for your agent.
1'/al. Thought like my father, my good lord, who said
lie would not have a Hunchback for his son,So do I pardon you the savage slight!
M3 lord, that I am not as straight as you,
~Was blemish neither of my thought nor will,
"' My,head nor heart. It was no act of mine, —"
Yet did it curdle nature's kindly milk
E'en where'tis richest-in a parent's breastTo cast me out to heartless fosterage,Not heartless always, as it proved —and give
AMy portion to another! " the same blood"' But li'll'ae sworn, in vein, my lord, and soul"Although his trunk did swerve no more than your>*-' Not half so straight as I.
" Tin. UpoL my life
"You've got a modest agent, Rochdale! Now
"He'll prove himself descended-mark my words —
F iirom some small gentleman!
"l Wal. And so you thought,
"'WVhere nature played the churl, it would be fit
" That fortune played it, too. You would have had
"My lord absolve me from my agency!
"Fair lord, the flaw did cost me fifty times-' A hundred times my agency:" —but all's
Recovered. Look, my lord, a testament    [Shinos wlA
To make a pension of his lordship's rent roll!
It is my fatner's, and was left by him,
In case his heir should die without a son,
Then to be opened. Heaven did send a son
To bless the heir. Heaven took' its gift away.
He died-his father died. And Master WalterThie unsightly agent of his lordship thereThe HIunchback whom your lordship would have stipoed
Of his aren;:y, —is now the Earl of Rochdale I
Jl. The F, arl rof Ro'hJdaJe I




ILn 1II.]          xIE HINCHBAC                    t
KWtM. And what of that I Thou know'st not half my
greatness!
A prouder title, Julia, have 1 yet.
Sooner than part with which, I'd give that up
A ad be again plain Master Walter. What!
IDaiSt thou not apprehend me?  Yes, thou dost!
Llommanad thyself —dnl't gasp! My pupil —daughter I
aomrne to thy father's heart!    [Julia rushes into his armnA
Tlin. We've made a small mistake here. Never mind,
Tis nothing for a lord.
Enter FAItHOM, R.
Fat/h. Thievery! Elopemett-escape —arrest!
Wal. What's the matter          a
Path,. Mistress Helen is running away with Master Mo.
dus-Master Modus is runnih:g away with Mistress Helen
-but we have caught them, secured them, and here they.come, to receive the reward of their merits.
- ntetr HELEN and MODUS, R., followed by Servants.
- ie. I'll ne'er wed man, if not my cousin Modus.
/Iotats. Nor woman 1, sawb  cousin Helen's she.
Wal. rTo Heartvell.] A daughter and a nephew has m]
friend,
Without their match in duty ] You shall marry.
For you, Sir, who to-day have lost an earldom,
Y'et would have shared that earldom with my child"My only one-content yourself with prospect
"Of the succession —it must fall to you"And fit yourself to grace it. Ape not those'i Who rank by pride. The man of simplest bearing
"Is yet a lord when he's a lord indeed!
"Tin. The paradox is obsolete. Ne'er heed!
i r-earn from his book, and practise out of mine.
Wral." Sir Thomas Cliffordl. take my daughter's nat.e.
if now you know the master of her heart:
tlive it, my Julia! You suspect, I see,Ard rightly —there has been some masking here,.Well, you shall know anon how keeps Sir Thomas
His ~,~rornetcy, still-and, for myself,
How,calousy oftny mis-shapen back
Made me mistrustful ot'a child's affections




a   ~        ~~ THE 1IUCNIACE
Although I won a wife's-so that T dropped
The title of thy father, lest thy duty
Should pay the debt, tliy love alone could sa'lv.
All this and more, that to t.hy tfriends and thee
Pertains, at fitting time thou shalt be told.
But now thy nuptials wait-the happy close
(f;hy hard trial-wholesome, though severe I
T'he world won't cheat thee now —thy heart is pnrsJ
T'hou know'st thy peace by finding out its bane,
ikrd ne'er wilt act from reckless impulse more I
PIMI'OSlITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL m1
THE CURTAIN.
CLIIOP.RD-  JULIL
HILE#.            WLLTEr.
Mo)us. L.Xb:4LLE
sr]"TWILL.                        TiNew,
735 fl~~~~~~~~1