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OUR MARY ANNfi. 
 
 A FARCE, 
 
 fin <&ne &ct. 
 
 JOHN BALDWIN BUCKSTONE, ESQ. 
 
 MEMBER OF THE DRAMATIC AUTHORS* SOCIETY. 
 
 As performed at the 
 THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE. 
 
 CORRECTLY PRINTED FROM THE PROMPTER'S COPY WITH REMARKS, 
 
 THE CAST OF CHARACTERS, COSTUME, SCENIC ARRANGEMENT, 
 
 SIDES OF ENTRANCE AND EXIT, AND RELATIVE POSITIONS 
 
 OF THE DRAMATIS PERSON*. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH AN ETCHING, BY PIERCE EGAN THE YOUNGER, 
 FROM A DRAWING TAKEN DURING THE REPRESENTATION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND. 
 
jD 
 
 First performed, January 18, 1838. 
 
 , 
 
 g"j 
 r I M -an 
 
 , f Mr> Bl 
 dj 
 
 COLONEL ALBERT. Riding-frock, with sable) 
 collar, travelling-cap, tight light pantaloons, hessian V Mr. COOPER. 
 boots . . . . . . . J 
 
 JONATHAN TUNKS. White oldfashioned coat, 
 trimmed with white buttons and broad lappels, long 
 red waistcoat, white knee-breeches/Marge silver 
 buckles, blue stockings, shoes and silver buckles, 
 white laced neckcloth, flaxen wig, white hat and 
 favour, white gloves ..... 
 
 SOLOMON. Light blue oldfashioned coat, white ^ 
 double-breasted waistcoat, light blue knee-breeches, I , rriM1>frniu . 
 red stockings, black shoes and buckles, red wig, f r 
 black hat, white favour . . . . . J 
 
 THOMAS. Brown coat, white waistcoat, blue ) 
 breeches, and male peasants similar dresses to Tho- >Mr. MEARS. 
 mas and Solomon . . . . J 
 
 ERNESTINE. First dress. Travelling cloak, riding^ 
 hat and feather. Second dress. Hair dressed with I , 
 blue ribbons, dark jacket, striped petticoat, light blue f M 
 stockings, shoes and buckles . . . .J 
 
 MARY ANNE. White muslin dregs, white hat) Mic< Pnftl 
 trimmed with white ribbons . . . . } M 
 
 AUNT WINIFRED. Blue dress with black laced ) .. _ , 
 monte,red petticoat, bluestockings,shoes and buckles J Mj 
 
 Female peasants in holiday dresses, wearing white 
 favours and bouquets . 
 
 Peasants, male and female .... 
 
 Scene A village in Germany. 
 Time of representation, fifty minutes. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 L. means first entrance, left. R. first entrance, right. S. E. L., second 
 entrance, left. S. E. R., second entrance, right. U. E. L., upper entrance, 
 left. U. E. R., upper entrance, right. C., centre. L. C., left centre, R. 
 C., right centre. T. E.]L., third entrance, left. T. E. R., third entrance 
 right. Observing you are supposed to face the audience. 
 
OUR MARY ANNE. 
 
 SCENE. A garden, gate, ajid iron railings at the back, in the 
 distance the country On R. H. 2 E., a farm-house On L. H. 3 E. 
 a cottage A garden-gate, occupying the 2 E. L. H. 
 
 Laughijig heard, SOLOMON and THOMAS enter at the back, from 
 R. H., with a party of peasants, male and female, all in holiday 
 costume, and decorated with bouquets and white favours. 
 
 Sol. Come along, my friends, come along it's almost time 
 the happy couple were at church what a beautiful morning for 
 the wedding ! I hope the evening will be like it, for our dance 
 on the lawn ; then perhaps the little delicate girl, who will then 
 be honoured by being my partner may become my partner for 
 life who knows? eh? ha! ha! Now, where's Jonathan, he 
 ought to be dressed by this time, 
 
 Tho. He invited me, and all of us, here to breakfast. 
 
 Sol. Did he, indeed ? how noble of him ! he certainly has 
 been very generous since he has been in love but that always 
 makes a change in one's disposition ; for my part I have break- 
 fasted, I was too hungry to wait. 
 
 Tho. Here's aunt Winifred. 
 
 Enter DAME WINIFRED,/?/! R. H. cottage. 
 
 All. Ah, aunt ! good morning, aunt. 
 
 Sol. How well you look, aunt ! 
 
 Win. Now, my friends, my nephew, Jonathan, will soon be 
 among you, he's just shaving, and has desired me to give you 
 your breakfast, it's quite ready for you in the harbour come, 
 follow me. 
 
 Sol. How's Mary Anne, isn't she a little nervous ? 
 
 Win. Not more than is becoming in a young girl, on such an 
 occasion as being married. 
 
 Sol. She is also getting ready, I suppose? 
 
 Win. Yes; her two maids are with her, and we must be at 
 the church in twenty minutes, so there is no time to lose come 
 along stop Solomon, Jonathan wants to speak to you, about 
 something, very, very particular. 
 
 Sol. Then I'll wait here, because I've had my breakfast. 
 
 Win. Come along, my friends, we have no time to lose. 
 
 [WINIFRED, THOMAS, and all the party go off, R. H. 3 E. 
 
 Sol. Jonathan wants to speak to me, very, very particular. 
 
 Urn ! I don't know what to make of him, lately since his 
 
 wedding-day has been fixed, he seems to hare something on 
 
 his mind to be sure, matrimony is a very great risk, and 
 
 A 2 
 
6 OUR MARY ANNE. 
 
 enough to make the boldest heart a little fidgety what is it he 
 has to say, I wonder? surely he can't want "to borrow any 
 money ? if he does, he ought not to ask me, because I am his 
 friend people ought never to borrow money of a friend, it's 
 not using him well always apply to a man you don't care 
 about, then if you never pay, there is no friendship sacrificed. 
 (JONATHAN speaks within, R. H. 2 E.) 
 
 Jon. I'm coming, Solomon, don t go away. 
 
 Sol. No, it must be something else he wants me for ; for 
 since his old father died he has succeeded to the stewardship of 
 the colonel's estate here, and is very well to do ; here he is. 
 
 Enter JON AT HAN, /row house. R. H. 2 E. 
 
 Jon. Now, Solomon, here I am my friends are all at break- 
 fast and oh dear (sighs.) 
 
 Sol. What's the matter ? are you frightened now you are 
 really going to be married 1 ? 
 
 Jon. A little. 
 
 Sol. You love Mary Anne? 
 
 Jon. Yes. 
 
 Sol. And she loves you ? 
 
 Jon. Yes. 
 
 Sol. Then what is the matter? 
 
 Jon. I have a great depression of spirits. 
 
 Sol. That you can't account for ? 
 
 J<m. Oh yes, I can I've something on my mind. 
 
 Sol. Ah! then confess it to me, and it may relieve you. 
 What have you done? You didn't murder your father, I hope ? 
 
 Jon. Lord, no ! not so bad as that neither. I'll tell you, I've 
 been wishing to unbosom myself to some tried friend for a long 
 time, but hadn't the courage ; and now, if I don't do so di- 
 rectly, I know I shall never have nerve to go through the events 
 of this day. 
 
 Sol. Well! 
 
 Jon. You recollect Mr. Elverdink. 
 
 Sol. The old landlord of this estate? 
 
 Jon. Yes. He adopted a little girl in short, our Mary Anne. 
 Now, when he died, he left this property to Colonel Albert, 
 provided he would marry Mary Anne when she grew up. 
 
 Sol. And did the colonel make this promise? 
 
 Jon. He did and shortly after went into the army Mr. 
 Elverdink died ; she was left to the care of Dame Winifred, who 
 lives there, you know, (pointing to L. H. cottage.) Was never 
 told of this matrimonial arrangement ; it was kept quite a 
 secret. And when my poor father, old Abel Tunks, approached 
 his latter end, in giving the stewardship up to me, he told me 
 of the colonel's promise. 
 
 Sol. And the colonel has never been here since his uncle 
 died, and that is 
 
 Jon. Ten years ago ; and all we have heard of him is, that 
 he's a very great and gay man, has obtained high rank in the 
 army that all the ladies are in love with him, and the 
 
OUR MART ANNE. 7 
 
 only recollection he has of this little estate is, that he don't 
 forget to send to the bank, every half-year, for the proceeds of 
 it, where my father regularly lodged it, during his stewardship, 
 and where I for two years have done the same. 
 
 Sol. Of course. 
 
 Jon. Well, Mary Anne and I, having been playmates, gradu- 
 ally became sweethearts. 
 
 Sol. The natural course of things. 
 
 Jan. I am twenty-five, and that's a marriageable age in 
 every country. 
 
 Sol. And Mary Anne is eighteen. 
 
 Jon. At last I fell so desperately in love with her, that I im- 
 prudently popped the question. 
 
 Sol. And she said yes. 
 
 Jon. Plump, at once. Now, as she never knew of the 
 colonel's promise, and he, never having been near the place so 
 long, and never having seen her, I thought I'd follow the dic- 
 tates of my feelings and marry her myself. 
 
 Sol. Suppose he should come to claim her. 
 
 Jon. That's what's on my mind. 
 
 Sol. Oh, my dear friend, it's not likely. After living 
 amongst such great people as he has been with, he'll never 
 show his face here any more, as long as he punctually receives 
 his rents. 
 
 Jon. You think so ? 
 
 Sol. I do. 
 
 Jon. Then you are a good friend. Bless my life ! now 1 have 
 confided this secret to you, I feel quite another man quite 
 light-hearted again. 
 
 Sol. Make your mind easy. 
 
 Jon. 1 will. Lord ! what a fool I've been, to worry myself. 
 He'll never come here again. He'll never think of a little 
 country-girl like Mary Anne. 
 
 Sol. Never. 
 
 Jon. Never! Now I shall be married in peace. What a 
 thing it is to have a friend to advise with ! I'll never raise 
 your rent again as long as I live never ! (noise without.) Hush ! 
 here is the party now, Solomon, mum. 
 
 Sol. Don't fear me. 
 
 Re-enter DAME WINIFRED, and all the party, 3 E. 
 
 Win. Now, nephew, your friends have breakfasted, and it's 
 quite time to go. 
 
 Jon. (calling at L. H. cottage.) Mary Anne ! are you ready ? 
 Mar. Yes, Jonathan. 
 
 MARY ANNE enters with two bridemaids, from cottage L. H. 
 
 Jon. Here she is. How nice you do look ! so do I don't 
 I? 
 
 Mar. Very nice. 
 
 Jon. Oh ! what a happy fellow I am, eh! Solomon ? Now, 
 
8 OUR MARY ANNE. 
 
 Thomas, offer your arm to Mary Anne, and conduct her to 
 church. Solomon, will you stay and take care of the house'? 
 
 Sol. Certainly. 
 
 Jon. We shan't be long. The ceremony is sooner gone 
 through than the consequences of it got rid of, you know. 
 Come along. Now, aunt, take my bachelor's arm, for the last 
 time forward to the nuptials. 
 
 [THOMAS and MARY ANNE, JONATHAN and WINIFRED, 
 followed by the party, go off at gate, and turn R. H. 
 
 Sol. I thought that Jonathan had something on his mind j 
 but he needn't worry himself. The colonel made the promise 
 when he never thought to be such a great man as he is now ; 
 and when people get up in the world, it's astonishing how it 
 impairs one's memory. Hollo ! a travelling carriage 1 it stops 
 here, (looking off, L. H. u. E.) Who can this be? a lady 
 alights a very fine lady, too who can she be? 
 
 Enter ERNESTINE in a travelling-dress, by the gate at back, L. H. 
 
 Ern. I beg your pardon, my friend. This, I believe, is 
 Golden Green, the estate of Colonel Albert? 
 
 Sol. Yes, madam. 
 
 Ern. Is he here? 
 
 Sol. No, madam hasn't been here for many years. 
 
 Ern. Can I speak to his representative ? 
 
 Sol. Yes, madam. 
 
 Ern. Where is he ? 
 
 Sol. Here, madam. 
 
 Ern. Are you the steward ? 
 
 Sol. I stand in the steward's shoes, just now, because I'm 
 taking care of his house. Do you particularly wish to see 
 him ? 
 
 Ern. Most particularly. 
 
 Sol. Can't just now, madam ; because he is most particularly 
 engaged, and mustn't be disturbed. 
 
 Ern. Indeed ! 
 
 Sol. Yes, madam, he is being married ; and a man is never 
 disturbed at a moment like that, because it may be the only 
 quiet one he may ever have after. 
 
 Ern. If I wait till the ceremony is over, can you accommo- 
 date me with an apartment ? 
 
 Sol. You can walk in there, madam, if you like; (pointing to 
 L. H. cottage ;) you'll find nobody at home, for they are all at the 
 wedding. 
 
 Ern. I thank you. 
 
 Sol. And, in the mean time, I'll go and tellJonathan a lady 
 wants him on very particular business: it's your own, I sup- 
 pose, madam ? 
 
 Ern. It is. 
 
 Sol. 1 thought so. When people want to see you on par- 
 ticular business, you may be pretty certain the particular busi- 
 ness is entirely their own. 
 
 [Exit SOLOMON at the back t and turns to R. H. 
 
OUR MARY ANNE. 
 
 Em. Well, this is a strange impulse to which I have so readily 
 yielded ; if my friends knew of my little act of folly, they 
 would indeed shake their wise heads, and wonder what had 
 possessed mine. My uncle, too, would never forgive me. 
 But now that I have entered upon my whim, I have resolved 
 most courageously to proceed with it. My uncle meets with a 
 Colonel Albert he is described to me as a soldier of rank and 
 fortune, and a most eligible match it is named to the colonel, 
 who, without condescending to see me, rejects the proposition 
 in a most determined manner raves about a rustic beauty to 
 whom in boyhood he was betrothed, and regarding whom his con- 
 science tells him he has been most shamefully indifferent. Now, 
 with the usual perversity of human nature, I am most anxious 
 to see and become acquainted with this colonel, and revenge 
 myself for the slight he has put upon me ; a widow of good 
 fortune, and a few personal pretensions, is not to be slighted so 
 cavalierly by the best colonel that ever strutted in regimentals. 
 
 Sol. (without.) Here she is, come along. 
 
 Enter SOLOMON bringing in JONATHAN, R. through gate. 
 
 Jon. It's all over, I'm a married man ; and every body is so 
 happy, that I've left them all crying their eyes out in the 
 churchyard ; go back to them, and say, that I shall be with 
 them again directly, to take a quiet walk after so much excite- 
 ment. Is that the* lady who wants me 1 
 
 Sol. Yes. 
 
 Jon. Away with you, and tell them to wait till I come. 
 
 [Exit SOLOMON through gate, 2 L. 
 Who is she, and what does she want, I wonder ? 
 
 Ern. Are you the colonel's steward ? 
 
 Jon. Yes, madam ; Jonathan Tunks, son of Aliel Tunks, who 
 held that high office for many years; he is dead, I'm alive, and 
 in his place. 
 
 Ern. You are just married, I hear. 
 
 Jon. Yes, madam. I've just been bound in Hymen's rosy 
 chain ; we poor people, you know, have our weaknesses as well 
 as bettermost folk. 
 
 Ern. 1 wish you every happiness. 
 
 Jon. Same to you, ma'am, whether you're married or single. 
 
 Ern. Your choice is some young peasant, I presume. 
 
 Jon. Yes, ma'am ; only eighteen, no relations, no mother 
 no brothers no sisters no marrying a whole family for me. 
 Oh, no ! never do that ma'am, never do that. 
 
 Ern. Has your master written that he intends to make a 
 visit here ? 
 
 Jon. Eh! 
 
 Ern. Are you aware that your master is coming here ? 
 
 Jon. Lord ! no he he can't mean it. 
 
 Ern. He has already left Paris, and is on his road here. 
 
 Jon. You don't say so ! 
 
 Ern. Tis most likely that he will arrive to-day. 
 
 Jon. Oh ! 1 am annihilated 
 
 Ern. What is the matter ? you seem excited. 
 
10 OUR MARY ANNE. 
 
 Jon. Yes, I am a little ; it's the effect of the weather the 
 weather's so close coming here ! Oh, good heavens ! are you 
 his wife ? (eagerly.) 
 
 Ern. Oh, no ! he's a perfect stranger to me. 
 
 Jon. Is he married 1 
 
 Ern. He is not married ; of that I can assure you. I merely 
 wish to remain here till his arrival ; your friend informed me 
 that I might rest for a short time in that cottage. 
 
 Jon. O yes, you may ; don't notice me are you sure he is 
 coming? 
 
 Ern. Certain. 
 
 Jon. I'm a murdered man ; go, if you please, make yourself 
 quite at home. 
 
 [He remains in a jit of abstraction, ERNESTINE goes to the 
 gate, and beckons on a female servant, who carries a 
 parcel. 
 
 Ern. (returns, looks at JONATHAN.) A very odd little fellow 
 surely he has not been dishonest, and afraid to meet his mas- 
 ter 1 Now for my project. 
 
 [Eii into cottage, L. H., followed by servant. 
 
 Jon. I feel as if an avalanche of tiles and chimney-pots had 
 fallen over me the colonel coming here, and on the very 
 morning that t have married his Mary Anne he can't call her 
 his Mary Anne now;, because she's mine lawfully and bon& 
 fide mine yet she was promised to him, 'before she promised her- 
 self to me, then perhaps after all she may be his Mary Anne 
 but I am her husband ! Her husband aha no getting over 
 that at all events, my claim must be considered a little then 
 at present it must remain in this position she must be our 
 Mary Anne zounds, that sounds like a partnership I'm be- 
 wildered I don't know what to think or do but he won't 
 come, tjhe lady must be mistaken I'm frightened at a shadow. 
 Ha! ha! ha! he won't come. Ha! ha! (noise of a carriage.) 
 Eh ? a carriage holloa ! holloa ! It stops here servants 
 a gentleman I'm petrified ! 
 
 [COLONEL ALBERT enters through gate R. H. JONATHAN 
 tears the white favour from his hat, and puts it in his 
 pocket. 
 
 Col. Take out the horses, and put them in the stable there. 
 Ah, with what pure delight do I once again behold this charm- 
 ing spot the little cottage of my uncle, the dear scene of my 
 boyish days where I used to tumble into ditches and have my 
 ears pulled sweet recollections ! 
 
 Jon. That's he, sure enough ! 
 
 Col. Ah, Jonathan, my dear friend you are Jonathan, I 
 presume ? 
 
 Jon. Yes, sir. 
 
 Col. At length you behold your long absent master. 
 
 Jon. Delighted to see you, sir. (aside.) What a hypocrite I 
 am ! 
 
 Col. You have succeeded to your poor father, I hear ? good 
 fellow, I have now a perfect recollection of your youthful 
 
OUR MAftY ANNE. II 
 
 honest face excellent servant that you are you are a treasure 
 a treasure, (shaking JONATHAN cordially by the hand.) 
 
 Jon. Here's a situation I am in ! (aside.) I must face it out. 
 So, sir, you've been in the wars, eh ? dreadful things these 
 battles you've known what it is to have a bullet whiz by your 
 ear, eh 1 (aside.) If one had but popp'd into it now he never 
 would have come back then. 
 
 Col. Yes, Jonathan, since you last beheld me, I have faced 
 death in a thousand shapes. I have seen the world have 
 learned to despise its glittering gauds ; and now, my wearied 
 heart, turns in fondness to the dear spot of my youthful days 
 how delicious are alHts old familiar scenes to me! and how 
 delicious will be my meeting with the queen of this pastoral 
 region my own betrothed Mary Anne ! Where is she, Jona- 
 than? 
 
 Jon. Oh ! she's about somewhere I know she's not at home 
 now. 
 
 Col. How weary I am of the meretricious charms of polish 'd 
 society the rouged cheek the pencilled eyebrow the ver- 
 milioned lip that it is utterly impossible to kiss. Oh, Jonathan, 
 pure nature after all is only to be loved and prized, go go 
 and send her ! 
 
 Jon. Who ? our Mary Anne ? 
 
 Col. Our Mary Anne ? How familiar how natural is the ex- 
 pressionhow it illustrates home and friendship, and every 
 social delight tell me, Jonathan, is she handsome ? have years 
 fulfilled the promise of beauty, that her sweet infancy made 1 
 she is lovely, is she not ? 
 
 Jon. Why pretty well she's not ugly nor is she so mighty 
 beautiful she is a you know what 1 mean ? 
 
 Cul. Yes yes perfectly. Ah, you rogue, she is an angel ! 
 you know she is and you are preparing a delightful little 
 surprise for me where does she reside '.' 
 
 Jon. There, along with aunt Winifred, (pointing L. H.) 
 
 Col. In my dear old uncle's cottage. 
 
 Jon. Aunt has brought her up. 
 
 Col. Dear creature filled her heart with fine primitive 
 notions, no doubt. 
 
 Jon. Yes she is a little prim in her notions. 
 
 Col. Where is she, Jonathan ? 
 
 Jon. Eh ! Oh ! I forgot she's gone to the fair. 
 
 Col. To the fair? 
 
 Jon. You know it, you used to go to it when a boy once 
 made yourself ill with gingerbread there. 
 
 Col. Run and tell her Pin arrived. 
 
 Jon. Run sir it's six miles six mortal miles ! 
 
 Enter SOLOMON, running from gate, n. 
 Sol. Marian wants to know 
 Jon.(c.) Silence donkey ! 
 Co/. Ha ! is she here 1 
 Sol. (confused.) No yes no. 
 
12 OUR MARY ANNE. 
 
 Jon. (aside to SOLOMON.) Tis the colonel ! 
 
 Sol. (alarmed.) No ! 
 
 Jon. Yes; don't tell Mary Anne. 
 
 Sol. Oh! 
 
 Jon. Arn't I in a hobble ? (COLONEL crossing to SOLOMON.) 
 
 Col. You mentioned the name of Mary Anne. 
 
 Sol. I only said 
 
 Col. What, sir ? 
 
 Jon. (shakes his head at SOLOMON.) 
 
 Sol. She wanted to know 
 
 Col. What, sir ? 
 
 Sol. That is, when I saw her last week she wanted to know 
 ifif twice four wasn't eight ? 
 
 Col. Fool ! (throwing him off, and turning to JONATHAN.) Tell 
 me, sir, (SOLOMON runs off alarmed, at back,) there is some 
 mystery in her absence if you dare to trifle with me, I'll kill 
 you on the spot ! 
 
 Jon. Oh ! 
 
 Col. Explain ! 
 
 Jon. Well, sir I will she's like me, very nervous very 
 startlish and being told all at once of your sudden arrival 
 may be too much for her so I I wish her to know of it by 
 instalments. 
 
 Col. (violently.) Where is she ? 
 
 Jon. She is at a wedding, sir 
 
 Col. A wedding who is married? 
 
 Jon. If you please, sir it's me. 
 
 Col. You ! 1 wish you every joy, my good fellow now your 
 nervous excitement is explained I hope you'll introduce me 
 to your wife. 
 
 Jon. I shall be proud of the honour, (aside,) and take to my 
 heels the next minute. 
 
 Col. Return, I beg, to your blushing bride the duties that 
 may be due to me, shall not to-day interfere with your hap- 
 piness return to the future partner of your days and send 
 our Mary Anne to me tell her that I am impatient to fold 
 her in my arms. 
 
 Jon. Yes, sir; I'll run I shall never be able to tell him 
 what shall I do ? 
 
 Col. Why don't you go 1 
 
 Jon. Yes, sir; yes, sir I'm going, sir. (aside.) I'll do some- 
 thing dreadful. 
 
 [As the COLONEL turns to survey the cottage, on the L. H., 
 
 JONATHAN runs into farm- house, L. H. 
 
 Col. Let me contemplate the happy home of her youth the 
 spot where her charms her natural graces, have developed 
 themselves. 
 
 [JONATHAN reappears from farm-house, with a large 
 pistol in his hand, which he puts to his ear, and rushes 
 off wildly, R. H. 1 E. 
 
 Col. Dear Mary Anne how often in my wildest hours have 
 
OTJU MARY ANNE. 13 
 
 I thought of you and my eyes have filled with unrestrained 
 tears, as 1 have d \velt upon your orphan lot. 
 
 [He turns towards H. H., with a sentimental air ERNES - 
 TINK appears in the dress of a German peasant, from 
 cottug&.^i L. H. ; crosses behind to u. H., comes down on 
 that sideband meets the COLONEL. 
 
 Ha ! my pretty one 'tis Mary Anne ! my heart tells me 'tis 
 she ! Hem ! I beg your pardon, my dear, is that cottage the 
 place of your residence ? 
 
 Ern. Yes, sir, for the present. 
 
 Col. It is my Mary Anne she is lovely all that my fancy 
 anticipated allow the companion of your childhood to fold 
 you to his heart. You look surprised. Do you not know 
 your Albert your own betrothed ? 
 Ern. Are you Albert ? 
 
 Col. I am that happy man. Happy, because he looks upon 
 beauty that will soon be all his own. Pray forgive my appa- 
 rent neglect ; for though the world has occupied much of my 
 time, my thoughts have often dwelt with fondness upon you. 
 Don't retreat from me ; but I forget you are nervous. 
 
 Ern. I confess 1 feel a little embarrassment at meeting you ; 
 for though we might have been playmates in our youth, yet 
 your long absence, makes you almost a stranger to me. 
 
 Cot. How well she expresses herself you remember me, 
 don't you ? 
 
 Ern. I think I do. 
 
 Col. I used to bring you birds' nests, and make faces at you. 
 to frighten you 
 
 Ern. Till one day you went away 
 Col. To finish my education, and enter the army. 
 Ern. You've been very brave, I hear, and have gained honour 
 and promotion. 
 
 Col. Yes, dear, (aside.) What a love it is ! 
 Ern. And have since been much among fine ladies. How I 
 should like to be a fine lady ! 
 
 Co/. You are happier as you are, dear Mary Anne. 
 Ern. Oh ! but to be a fine lady must be so delightful. To 
 wear whatever you please to walk upon soft carpets in beau- 
 tiful rooms have servants to wait upon ypu and eat and 
 drink every thing nice. I like good eating and drinking. 
 Col. What delicious candour! 
 
 Ern. Then think of riding in your own carriage of going to 
 balls of dancing and being admired to hear sweet music 
 and talk to people that can understand all one's thoughts and 
 feelings which is not the case in the country here. People are 
 so stupid. 
 
 Col. What a mind she has, and how it's striving to burst the 
 trammels of a limited knowledge of the world ! 
 
 Ei -n. How delightful it must be to meet with friends who 
 can explain all one is longing to understand who can talk of 
 the earth of the sky the beautiful stars the sweet moon- 
 light the voice of the breeze as it comes whispering in one's 
 
14 OUR MART ANNE. 
 
 car at the evening hour of the dews of night and of the daz- 
 zling sun-showers in spring which when I notice here, the 
 only reply I can get is, " How it will bring up the turnips!" 
 
 Col. What an illustration of the pursuit of knowledge under 
 difficulties, she is naturally accomplished do you love danc- 
 ing 1 
 
 Ern. Oh ! I wish I were a wave of the sea, that I might 
 dance for ever. 
 
 Col. Sweet idea ! and you love reading ? 
 
 Em. I have read the Sorrows of Werter, twenty times. 
 
 Col. And music ? 
 
 Ern. Oh, don't mention music, you should hear me play the 
 flagelet. 
 
 Col. Indeed ! Who would be educated, when nature alone 
 bestows such divine inspirations ; knowledge is delicious when 
 we seek it of our own accord but when it is flogged into us, 
 then we prefer being ignorant. Oh, Mary Anne, if you have 
 once thought that I have neglected you, you are now well re- 
 venged, for you have entirely subdued me, and I feel at last that 
 I am madly in love. 
 
 Em. With whom? 
 
 Col. With you! Have I awakened a sympathy in your 
 heart ? 
 
 Ern. Do you admire candour ? 
 
 Col. Adore it. 
 
 Ern. Well, then, I freely confess, that I have never yet seen 
 one, who, in so short an interview, has so pleased me as your- 
 self ! 1 may have had slight fancies for others. 
 
 Col. Ah! 
 
 Ern. Don't be jealous I hate jealousy and if when I am 
 better acquainted with you, I think that you improve on ac- 
 quaintance, I have no doubt that I shall not find it a difficult 
 matter to love you heartily there's candour for you and now, 
 as I find I am covered with blushes, I'm sure you will be chari- 
 table enough to let me hide them for a few minutes, (runs off, 
 
 L.H.8E) 
 
 Col. (in astonishment.) What an extraordinary girl ! what 
 candour what natural nobility of soul what a mingling of 
 the notions of high life, with the simplicity of pastoral exist- 
 ence ! I'm in love, I know 1 am ; I am full of all,the symptoms. 
 Oh, shade of my uncle ! 
 
 Enter JONATHAN, very pale, R. H. 1 E. 
 
 Jon. I can't shoot myself, I have tried half a dozen times but 
 I can't so I've thrown away the pistol, and hare come back to 
 confess all. 
 
 Col. My dear friend, what is the matter with you'? 
 
 Jon. My good master, I am a scoundrel, the worst of the 
 worst, (aside.) I shall never be able to tell him. 
 
 Col. You surely are not afraid to introduce your wife to me 
 do not, my dear Jonathan, judge of my principles, by those of 
 others of my rank. If your wife is beautiful as an angel, my 
 
OUR MARY ANNE. lj 
 
 morals are unexceptionable besides I've seen our Mary 
 Anne. 
 
 Jon. Eb ! seen our Ma-ry Anne ? 
 
 Col. Yes, I have seen her. She was at first as you prepared 
 me to find her, a little nervous, but now we understand one 
 another excellently well. 
 
 Jon. Understand one another ! (aside.} That villain, Solomon, 
 has told her, and she has scampered here to get a peep at the 
 Colonel. 
 
 Cot. I am delighted with her, she is charming charming ! 
 
 Jon. He has said charming twice. And did she tell you ? 
 Oh, no ! she hasn't told him or he would not be so civil/ 
 
 Col. Told me of what ? 
 
 Jon. Oh ! nothing particular. 
 
 Col. (confidentially. ) She has told me that she loves me. 
 
 Jon. Eh ? 
 
 Col. Yes, my dear fellow, she loves me. 
 
 Jon. And she has told you so ? 
 
 Col. In a manner the most simple, and yet the most delightful. 
 
 Jon. (aside.) That's just the way she told me so. 
 
 Cnl. What a fine natural education she has, what principles ! 
 
 Jon. Very to fall in love with another man on her wedding- 
 day, (aside.} 
 
 Col. Such candour I want to see her again. 
 
 Jon. Oh ! you want to see her again ! 
 
 Col. Another interview will confirm my bliss. 
 
 Jon. Confirm his bliss ! 
 
 Col. I must see her again, I can't live another moment with- 
 out her. (CoL. is going L. H., and JONATHAN closely following 
 him.) 
 
 Jon. I must stick up a little for my 
 
 Col. (turning sharply on him.) Where are you coming, sir? 
 
 Jon. After you. 
 
 Col. Remain you here, sir. How dare you follow me ? 
 Remain you here, I command you. [Exit by garden gate, L. H. 
 
 Jon. I wish I could have shot myself. I should have been 
 quiet now. Oh, that Solomon ! I'll shoot him instead. I will 
 do something. If the colonel sees my wife again, she may tell 
 him she is married perhaps not she may be cunning enough 
 to think it may be better not. But whether he knows it, or he 
 don't know it, I'm in an awful hobble. How my head does 
 ache and throb ! What shall I do? (he paces the stage in despair.) 
 
 MARY ANNE enters. 
 
 Mar. (comes down, L.) Here you are at last, sir. Very pretty 
 manners, to leave me so long on my wedding-day ! Here have 
 we been waiting for you in the churchyard for half an hour. 
 Perhaps, now I'm your wife, you already repent having 
 married me 1 
 
 Jon. (aside.) I do, indeed. 
 
 Mar. Directly the ceremony was over, off you ran. If you 
 begin to neglect me already, what must I expect in a month 
 or two ? 
 
16 ODK MAKY ANNE. 
 
 Jon. Expect in a month or two ! What ought your conduct 
 to lead you to expect ? 
 
 Mar. Oh ! Jonathan, what's the matter with you? You are 
 as pale as death and what do you mean by my conduct 1 
 
 Jon. Go along I am ashamed of you. I could never have 
 believed it of a little girl like you you, that I thought the 
 most virtuous the most oh ! 
 
 Mar. What do you mean ? 
 
 Jon. You know what I mean the colonel 
 
 Mar. Well, what of hirfi ? 
 
 Jon. He has arrived. 
 
 Mar. 1 know it. 
 
 Jon. Solomon told you. (aside.) I'll murder him. You've 
 seen the colonel ? 
 
 Mar. I'm sure I have not. 
 
 Jon. Oh! what a well, I never! Here's cool impudence ! 
 Oh ! these women, these women ! 
 
 Mar. Upon my honour ! 
 
 Jon. Your honour ! where is it ? Go away, go away 
 don't come near me ! Go and understand the colonel go ! 
 
 Enter SOLOMON at the bach, JONATHAN seizes him. 
 Villain ! you have betrayed me. You, that I thought my 
 friend ! you, that I confessed all to!- never mind I'll double 
 your rent TIL be revenged! As for you, Mrs. Turiks come 
 along with me. 
 
 Mar. Oh ! don't be so violent Jonathan, now 
 Jon. Come along with me no more colonels you've cut 
 me to the core. Come to your aunt ; she will teach you your 
 duty to your husband. Come, Mary Anne, come. (JONATHAN 
 drags her off at back, at gate turn R. H.) 
 
 Sol. Double my rent, will he ? I don't see so much harm in 
 having told Mary Anne of the colonel's arrival. I've kept his 
 secret safe enough. I might have told that if I had liked. 
 What ingratitude ! Double my rent, will he? Now, I'll be 
 spiteful, and tell all I'll be hanged if I don't. 
 
 Re-enter COLONEL ALBERT, L. H. 2 E. 
 
 Col. I'm a happy fellow ! she loves me! I've seen her 
 again, and she loves me. She says she has something to con- 
 fess before she consents to marry me, and requests a previous 
 five minutes to herself. What can it be ! Surely there can be 
 no provincial sweetheart, that, in the natural philanthropy of 
 her soul, she may have encouraged ! Zounds ! if 1 thought 
 that ha ! this bumpkin here! I'll sound him. My friend ! 
 
 (beckons SOLOMON.) 
 
 Sol. Sir ! 
 
 Col. When I had last the pleasure of an interview with you, 
 you were about to allude to Mary Anne. 
 
 Sol. I was, sir. 
 
 Col. Are you acquainted with her? 
 
 Sol. Bless you, yes ! I've played at kiss in the ring with her 
 an hundred times. 
 
OUR MARY ANNE. 17 
 
 Col. Indeed ! were you ever so favoured as to be allowed a 
 salute ? 
 
 Sol. Oh, yes ; she used to fight and pull my hair ; but after 
 kissing her nose and her ear, I managed somehow to get to her 
 lips at last. 
 
 Col. 1 don't like to hear this ; yet in pastoral life these little 
 pleasures are pure enough. Well, well, I pass that over. She 
 has ever been considered a well-conducted girl ? 
 
 Sol. Oh, yes ; 1 never heard any harm of her. 
 
 Col. Has she had many lovers 1 
 
 Sol. Oh, yes, dozens ! 
 
 Col. And has rejected them all, of course ? 
 
 Sol. Not all. 
 
 Col. Oh, then then there has been a favoured one 1 ? 
 
 Sol. Very much favoured. 
 
 Col. Ah! but all in innocence, I hope? 
 
 Sol. I don't know what you call innocence ; I only know she 
 has married one of them. 
 
 Col. Married ! what do you mean ? 
 
 Sol. I mean, that she has a husband. 
 
 Col. Our Mary Anne ? 
 
 Sol. Our Mary Anne. 
 
 Col. Good heavens ! who is her husband ? 
 
 Sol. Jonathan Tunks. 
 
 Col. What, my steward ? has he dared ? When were they 
 married ? 
 
 Sol. This morning. 
 
 Col. Oho! this, then, is the real cause of that scoundrel's 
 wild looks and agitation ; this is the confession that Mary Anne 
 wants five minutes to prepare for making. That I should have 
 been so deceived. Is there no truth to be found in the world? 
 Thank you, my friend, for your information. You are a tenant 
 on this estate ? 
 
 Sol. Yes, sir. 
 
 Col. Henceforth, you live rent free. 
 
 Sol. Tol-de-rol-de-rol, who cares for the man when he can 
 have a friend in the master ? 
 
 Col. Go, my friend, go. 
 
 Sol. Any where you please, sir. Huzza, I'm rent free '. 
 Now, Mr. Tunks, what becomes of your threat ? tol-de-lol- 
 lol, I'm rent free rent free and independent, (dances off at 
 back.) 
 
 Enter ERNESTINE, at gate, L. H. 2 E. 
 
 Ern. I have made up my mind to remove his error it is 
 ungenerous to deceive him further. 
 
 Col. Well, Mary Anne, you've had your five minutes to 
 yourself; what is the result ? 
 
 Ern. A determination to tell a little truth. 
 
 CoL I'm happy that I've not been deceived in my idea of your 
 candour 
 
 Ern. You have made me an offer of your hand ? 
 
18 OUR MARY ANJsE. 
 
 Cot. I have in obedience to the wish of my poor uncle 
 
 Ern. Without any reference to the dictates of your heart ? 
 
 Col. I confess freely, when I beheld you, that my heart had 
 no little share in the act of obedience I came here to perform. 
 I should be a dissembler, were I to deny, that you have not 
 interested me. Indeed, I may say, that a few minutes since, I 
 really loved you. 
 
 Ern. And was your love so light, that a few minutes only 
 could see it disappear ? 
 
 Col. Permit me to take your hand 1 your left hand. 
 
 Ern. (aside.) Now for the discovery ! 
 
 Col. (takes her left hand and immediately lets it fall.} You 
 haven't played at kiss in the ring for nothing. 
 
 Ern. Kiss in the ring ! (aside.} 1 am a widow, and that is a 
 delicate allusion to the fact. May I be allowed to ask you a 
 question ? 
 
 Col. With pleasure. 
 
 Ern. Did a certain friend of yours ever name a niece that he 
 wished you to marry ? 
 
 CoL How could she have heard of that ? (aside.) Oh, 
 yes. 
 
 Ern. You rejected the proposal ? 
 
 Col. I did. 
 
 Ern. And without condescending to see the lady ? 
 
 CoL Precisely. 
 
 Ern. May I ask why you would not see her ? 
 
 Col. I was afraid. 
 
 Em. Of what? 
 
 Col. Of marrying a widow. If a man would not be a slave, 
 he would avoid a widow. 
 
 Ern. (piqued.) Indeed, sir and if a woman would not be a 
 slave, she should never permit herself to be compelled to 
 marry. 
 
 Col. Now she's coming to her confession I am to under- 
 stand you do not love me ? 
 
 Ern. I am still candid enough to acknowledge my love will 
 ever equal yours. 
 
 Col. You speak of compulsion in accepting my hand : allow 
 me to say I release you from every obligation. 
 
 Frn. And without a pang to your own heart? 
 
 CoL Pray let me keep the knowledge of a great weakness to 
 myself but why this duel of words? when first I beheld you 
 I considered you free I looked upon you as my own there 
 was an air, a manner about you that attracted me, and at once 
 I loved and that is the healthiest plant of affection that sud- 
 denly takes root, whatever your advocates for long courtships 
 may say. 
 
 Ern. Undeceive yourself, colonel, I am free. 
 
 CoL What? 
 
 Ern. Perfectly free. 
 
 CoL Perfectly free ? Jonathan Tunks some one send Jo- 
 nathan Tunks to me. 
 
OUR MARY ANNE. 19 
 
 Enter JONATHAN at the back. 
 
 Jon. 1 never could have believed it of our Mary Anne ; 
 and to stick to her falsehood in such a barefaced manner. Oh ! 
 dreadful ! shocking ! 
 
 Col. Oh, sir; you are come most apropos so you are 
 married it seems. 
 
 Jon. I can bear my guilt no longer I must tell all yes, 
 sir I am, sir. 
 
 Col. Well ! 
 
 Jon. Well ! 
 
 Col. Why don't you introduce me to your wife ? 
 
 Jon. Because you have introduced yourself already. 
 
 Col. Are you aware that I could punish you both. 
 
 Jon. It's not hanging, is it ? 
 
 Col. Will you resign her? 
 
 Jon. I suppose I can't if I would. 
 
 Col. (to EHNESTINE.) And you, what shall be said of you 
 that such dissimulation should exist in this pastoral spot? But 
 I'll be charitable poor human nature requires many allow- 
 ances to be made for her give me your hand (takes the hand 
 of ERNESTINE) I ought to be indignant, but in regard to the 
 secret struggles that both of you must have endured, I will be 
 indulgent, for I have been a little to blame 1 ought not to 
 have been absent so long, (taking JONATHAN'S hand, and placing 
 it in ERNESTINE'S.) There, I forgive you, you love one another. 
 Be happy be happy, (rushes off, R. 11. IE.; JONATHAN and 
 ERNESTINE look at one another in astonishment.) 
 
 Jon. Here! hollo! come back, here's some mistake. 
 
 Ern. Call him back call him back ! 
 
 Re-enter the COLONEL. 
 
 Col. (coming between them.) Before I leave you for ever, take 
 a word of advice from one who is well acquainted with the 
 world 
 
 Enter MARY ANNE at back, crying, followed by AUNT WINIFRED 
 SOLOMON, THOMAS, and the peasants. 
 
 Mar. (running to JONATHAN, and putting her arms round his 
 neck, JONATHAN at same moment looking most ruefully at the CO- 
 LONEL.) Ob, Jonathan, how can you treat me in this manner ? 
 
 Jon. (crying.) You see, sir you see this is the way we got 
 into this delicate position. 
 
 Col. Who is that young lady ? 
 
 Jon. Our Mary Anne your Mary Anne, that ought to he. 
 
 Sol. Lawful wife of Jonathan Tunks. 
 
 Jon. And now, sir, cut my throat, and put me out of my 
 misery, for you know every thing. 
 
 Col. What does all this mean who do I behold in you ? (to 
 ERNESTINE.) 
 
 Ern. The niece of your friend, the general whose proposal 
 in my behalf you so disdainfully rejected. 
 
 Col. (falling on his knee to ERNESTINE.) Forgive me ! For- 
 
20 OLR MABT ANNE. 
 
 give me ! Widow as you are, and slave as I may be, 1 lore you 
 well enough to brave every danger for you. 
 Ern. You are betrothed. 
 
 Col. To Mary Anne (looking for an instant at MARY ANNE)- 
 Jonathan, my dear friend, keep her keep her you are heartily 
 welcome to her. 
 
 Jon. Am I ? Oh, tol-de-rol -lol. (dancing with joy.) 
 Col. Allo\v me to present Mrs. Tunks, with my uncle's little 
 estate as her dower. 
 
 Jon. There, (embraces MARY ANNF.) 
 
 Sol. Please to remember the incumbrance. I am reut free, 3 ou 
 know, sir. 
 
 Col. Yes, my friend, yes. Now, madam (to ERNESTINE.) 
 Ern. My revenge is indeed complete. Well, colonel, though 
 it is in my power to retaliate and reject you, yet we are taught 
 to return good for evil, and there's my hand, (she presents her 
 hand to COLONEL, who kisses it.) 
 
 Jon. Now, 1 am safe out of my hobble. Huzza ! huzza ! yet 
 one little anxiety still remains, (to the audience.} May I hope 
 that after all the worry of mind 1 have endured this day, you 
 will make me completely happy, by giving one smile of favour 
 on " Our Mary Anne." 
 
 DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS. 
 
 PEA.SA.KTS. 
 
 i X:XTHA.N. COLONEL f nx . 
 &>** - NS *X> . 
 
 R - L. 
 
 WHITING, BEAUFOKT HOl'SE, STRAND. 
 
Syracuse, N. Y. 
 Stockton, Calif. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY