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 FRENCH'S 
 
 iS.M ERIO^jNT r)RA.M:A.. 
 
 Srije Slctiitfi ISDitioH. 
 No. LIX 
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 A FARCE, IN ONE ACT. 
 
 T. POOLE, ESQ. 
 
 To TTHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 A I)«8cription of the Costume — Cast of the Characters— Entrances and ^ziU 
 
 — Relative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and the 
 
 •whole of the Stage Business, as performed at 
 
 THE NEW YORK THEATRES. 
 
 NEW- YORK : 
 SAMUEL FRENCH, 
 
 121 NASSAU- STREET.
 
 ffiast of t!)c ©Ijai-actctB, 
 As Performed at the New York Theatrea. 
 
 Mr. Walton Mr. Moore. *■ 
 
 Tristram Sappy - - . _ . " Burton. 
 
 Captain Templeton . . - _ *' E. Jordan. 
 
 Crupper " Russell. 
 
 Gallo/ - " Gourley. 
 
 r,. •---'-- " Lawson. 
 
 KecruUs ^ 
 
 " Paul. 
 
 1 
 
 Miss Sophy Walton ... - Miss Miller. 
 Miss Amy Templeton - - - - Miss Florence. 
 Mrs. Plumply - Miss Annie Waltera. 
 
 Sally Mags - - - . - Mrs. Burton. 
 
 Scene lies at Wiridicsler — at ihe Bell Inn. 
 Time of Representation, one hour. 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 EXITS AND ENTRANCES. 
 
 R. means Right ; L. Left ; F. the Flat, or Scene running across 
 the hack of the Stage ; D. F. Door in Flat ; R. D. Right Door ; L. 
 D. Left Door : S. E. Second. Entrance ; U. E. Upper Entrance ; M. 
 D. Middle Door. 
 
 RELATIVE POSITIONS. 
 
 R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C. Right of Centre; 
 L. C. Left of Centre. 
 
 R. RC. C. LC. L. 
 
 *♦* The Reader is supposed to he on the Stage, facing the 
 Audic7ice.
 
 UBRAKY 
 SAZSTA BARBARA 
 
 «8»tumc— J«o!7et».
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. — Two doors in f. — A pxtUic room of the Bell Inn — Bar 
 on R. — In centre a table, at which Old Walton and Sappy are 
 playing whist. Waiters crossing stage in front in great bustle. 
 Bells ringing r. and l. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Pldmply, l. 
 
 Mrs. P. \Miy John — Williani — Gregory — every waiter in at- 
 tendance, and nobody to come near me, but Sally Mags the chamber- 
 maid. Exit into Bar, r. 
 
 Wal. (l.) The noise has put me out. — We'll have done with 
 cards. 
 
 Sap. (r.) And I was nine — That's the way you always serve 
 me, when I'm near winning, and I don't like it. 
 
 Wal. [Rising.'] Tristram, the merest trifle puts you out of temper. 
 Fou are soon to marry my daughter Sophy, and it's my duty to tell 
 you. 
 
 Sap. It isn't your duty to tease a young man who is his own 
 master, and I've no notion of being teased. I wish she and 
 t'other young lady would come, tho' — It's getting late, and I don't 
 like it. 
 
 Wal. They can't arrive before the coach comes in. Your impa- 
 tience is natural enough though, you rogue ! 
 
 Sap. Natural ! to be sure it is natural — supper is ordered 
 for ten o'clock ; and if they don't come in time, it will be done to 
 rags. 
 
 Wal. Why, you are a wag, Mr. Sappy. 
 
 Sap. Ay, to be sure I am. Why I pass for the cleverest fellow 
 in all Winchester. 
 
 Wal. Winchester, I take it, cannot be a very populous town. 
 
 Sap. Now, that's meant as a joke against me, and I don't like it. 
 I tell you, they call me now, the wit of Winchester. It's only 
 since my journey to Lunnun tho', for before that I was no better 
 than a numskull.
 
 DEAF AS A 1»0ST. 9 
 
 Wal. Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Sap. You may laugh, if you like, but I was looked on as the 
 greatest ass in our town. But, one way or t'other, it cost me a 
 mint of money to get one's self made sensible. — I spent no less 
 than fifty pounds in three months. That set me a thinking, and 
 thinks I, I've sense enough ; so I'm oft" says I, ha ! ha ! — Old 
 Walton, meaning you, has promised me his daughter Sophy for a 
 wife. I'll back to Winchester, and get ready to marry — ha ! ha ! 
 Old Walton shall come down, and see my property, before we sign 
 and seal : and — here you are — ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Wal. Well, really, your wit overflows. I begin to perceive that 
 my intended son-in-law is an idiot. lAside: 
 
 Enter Mrs. Plumply, //om Bar, e. 
 Wal. Mrs. Plumply, we shall saunter before your door, in expec- 
 tation of the London coach ; and I'll be obliged if you'll have the 
 room ready for my daughter and the other young lady, on their ar 
 rival. 
 
 Mrs. P. It shall be taken care of, sir. Here, Sally, Sally 
 Mags ! 
 
 Enter S.iLLV, from Bar, r. 
 
 Salhj. Here I am, ma'am ; I was just coming when I heard you 
 call ; and says I — I dare say, says I, now misses calls Sally Mags, 
 says I. 
 
 Mrs. P. Never mind what you said. Here's the key of No. 19 
 and be sure you have it ready for the two young ladies, who will 
 arrive presently by the Defiance. 
 
 Sap. And, Mrs. Plumply. you'll come the genteel thing in tlie 
 supper. Seven shillings a-head for four is a long price, you know. 
 You won't take any advantage, because I've agreed before- 
 hand 1 
 
 Mrs. P. An advantage, sir — Sir, since I have been mistress of 
 the Bell. 
 
 Sap. No, no — only I mean — I say, father-in-law, I've ordered 
 supper at seven shillings per head. You insisted on my standinor 
 treat, and as I like to do things in style — only I mean, thai for 7s. 
 a head — one ought to have sumnuit, you know [Addressed to Mrs. 
 I'. — then to himself. '\ — Four times seven are twenty-eight; and four 
 glasses of Negu.s, at — Sally, you'll lay the cloth in the parlor next 
 to my bed-room, because when I give a supper to a private party, I 
 like to be private, and because I like — that is, because I don't like — ■ 
 twenty-eight, and four shilling glasses of Negus, at a shilling each 
 ^twenty-eight and four. 
 
 Salli/. And is that all you've got to say, sir? 
 
 Sap. Oh ! oh, no — and mind you warm my bed — [Counting his 
 fingers.] — Don't forger, Sally — warm it well with a brass warming 
 pan.
 
 O DEAF AS A rOST. 
 
 Sally. I'll not forget any thing while you stay here, sir : and 
 when you go away, I hope your memory will f rove as good as 
 mine. 
 
 Sap. Come, that is well said, ha ! ha ! Hang me now, but that 
 deserves — \_Puts his hand in his pocket, and crosses to l.] Come, 
 father-in-law, let's go down for the coach. \_Exit, l. 
 
 Wal. Most decidedly, my intended son-in-law is an ass — an ill- 
 tempered, supercilious, conceited block-head. But I. fear I've en- 
 gaged too far with him to retract. 
 
 Sap. [Without, e.] Come, father-in-law. 
 
 Wal. Coming, fool. \_Exit, l. 
 
 Sally. Dear me, ma'am. Mr. Sappy seems a very stupid gentle- 
 man — I pity the young lady that is to be his wife ; for if I was a- 
 going to be married myself, I know that 
 
 Mrs. P. You know nothing about the matter, child — he's a fool, 
 to be sure, but a rich foci ; and a husband like Mr. Sappy is — \^Bcll 
 rings, Sally going, l.] Now, where are you running! Be sure 
 not to let in another i-oul to-night for love or money, except 
 those two young ladies. " The house is full," is the answer to all 
 coiners. 
 
 Sally. And well may I eay so, for from the parlors to the gar- 
 ret, there isn't a corner in the house big enough to 
 
 Mrs. P. Well, chatter, chatter, chatter. iBell.J Go see who 
 rings. [Exit Sally, l.] That girl does nothing but click, clack, 
 click, clack, from morning to ni^'lit. 
 
 Re-enter Sally, ushering in Sophy and Amy, l. 
 
 Mrs. P. This way, ladies, if you please. 
 
 Sally. _ This way, if you pleases, ladies — take care of the little 
 step at the door. Will you please to sit down, ladies ] you've had 
 a long journey— and 
 
 Mrs. r. [_Puts Sally aside."] Sally, will you please to hold your 
 tongue 1 Would you please tho trunks to be taken up to your 
 chamber, ladies 1 
 
 Sophy. If you please, ma'am, as we have left my father, Mr, 
 Walton, below, seeing them safe out of the coach. 
 
 Mrs. P. I'm glad you are arrived, ladies, that you may take pos- 
 tession of your apartment. I've sent away at least twenty travel- 
 er« to-day, and 
 
 Sally. Twenty, ma'am 1 dear me, ma'am, you might say forty, 
 Jind never tell a bit of a fib. I'm certain sure, that up to dinner 
 .inie alone 
 
 Mrs. P. Sally Mags, will you be quiet 1 And just nov, as you 
 arrived, I was obliged to turn away a young gentleman^ who ap- 
 peared so vexed. 
 
 Amy. \^Aside.'\ 'Twas he, perhaps — 
 
 Mrs. P. Ladies I'll step and sec that your room is in order for
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 7 
 
 your reception: iCrosscs to r.] come, Sally — I've a great mind to 
 fasten the door, and not let another soul in or out this blessed 
 night. [Exeunt Sally and Mrs. P., r. 
 
 Sophij. •' 'Twas he, perhaps." Ha ! ha ! ha ! so then a young 
 gentleman cannot apply for lodging at an inn in Winchester, but it 
 needs be your swain, Forester, whom we left in London. 
 
 Amy. Why not ! or why may it not have been yours, my brother, 
 Templetoni I am persuaded, that one of them has preceded us on 
 the road — perhaps both. 
 
 Sophy. So you have said before — and for no better reason, than, 
 that the people of the inns where we stopt, treated us with more 
 attention than the other travellers. 
 
 Amy. And what attention ! Refreshments prepared and set 
 apart for us — a reluctance to receive even the ordinary remunera- 
 tion which — it must be so, and I am convinced, that they are not 
 far from us at this moment. 
 
 Bell rings, l. Enter S.\lly, r., crosses, and exit, l. 
 
 Sophy. Ay, my dear Amy. you have a shrewd head at guessing. 
 Come, now, guess if you can, my father's motive for sending nic 
 from London. Here is his letter ; and though Tve read it twenty- 
 times, I am unable to undorotand it. [Reads.] '' My dear Sophy, I 
 have seen the estate you told me of; it pleases me, and has induced 
 me to conclude an affair, which deeply concerns you." — Deeply 
 concerns me — that it is tliat puzzles me. — " Set off instantly for the 
 Bell inn, Winchester, where you will find me. Perhaps, your 
 friend, Miss Templeton, will accompany you." 
 
 Amy. Nothing can be clearer — the all'air which concerns you, 
 must be marriage — the husband — O, my brother, Charles Temple- 
 ton, of course ; and the estate in question, he intends to settle on 
 you, as a marriage portion. 
 
 Sophy. Very clear, indeed, except that my father never saw your 
 brother in his life, and never heard him mentioned, I believe, but 
 by my aunt, at whose house, at Bath, I first met him. 
 
 Amy. True — I was thinking 
 
 Sophy. More of Forester, than of your brother, or me, or the 
 letter I have been reading to you. 
 
 Enter SM.L.r, followed hy Gallop, l. 
 
 Sally. Now, ladies, when you please, your room is ready. Pve 
 set every thing in order — it's a double bedded room, ladies — the 
 best in the house. No. 19 — No. 22 is the next best — but f said lo 
 misses, " ma'am," says I, " I'm sure the young ladies who are 
 coming" 
 
 Gal. Well, Miss Mags, when you've said your say, I'll say mine. 
 
 Sally. Dear me, I forgot — here's Gallo[) — Gallop, ladies, trots on 
 errands for all W mchester ; and he came to me, and said, says 
 he"
 
 8 DKAF AS A POST. 
 
 Gal. Will you let me do my own work, Sally 1 If you be the 
 young laJics, as came by liie coach from London, I've a letter for 
 one of you. \_Gi\jcs (he letter to Amy. 
 
 Amy. A letter without an address. Who gave it to youl 
 
 Gal. Told not to tell, miss — couldn't if I would — not knowing. 
 
 Ami/. ITo Sophy.] But, ought we to receive itl 
 
 Sophy. Why, it is but a letter — there can be no harm in a letter. 
 
 Gal. Never fear, miss ; no harm ever com'd of a letter of my 
 delivering. If I ever carry a challenge, it's sure never to come to 
 a fight. 
 
 Sally. Yes, and Gallop gets all the jobs in that way, ladies. 
 
 Amy. Are you paid, my good man ! 
 
 Gal. Why, miss, I can't say no ; but, in thi.? world, there are 
 letter readers as well as letter writers, you know, ladies. 
 
 Amy. There, [Givi?!^ money. ~\ will that content ye^ 
 
 Gal. Bless j-our handsome faces ; I hope you'll be as well pleased 
 with the letter as I am with the postage. [Exit Gallop, l 
 
 Amy. Let's see the contents, " Fair travellers," — 'tis meant for 
 both of us. " Whatever may happen, hear, see, and say nothing. 
 Beware of betraying surprise. You'll know why, hereafter." No 
 signature. 
 
 Sophy. " Hear, see, and say nothing." Do you know the writ- 
 ing \ 
 
 Amy. No, 'tis evidently a counterfeit hand. But, come, I'm dis- 
 posed to follow its advice, and wait the solution of the enigma. 
 
 Sophy. Well, let's arrange our dress a little, after the journey. 
 [To S.vLLV.] You'll inform my father, Mr. Walton, that we shall 
 be with him presently. 
 
 Saltij. I will, ladies. — Misses says I'm an eternal chatterer — that 
 may be, or may not be. but she can't say that I'm wanting in at- 
 tention to the guests, for since here I have been, and, come Easter, 
 it will be" 
 
 Sophy. Well, my dear, show us our room ; and here's for your 
 pains. [Gives money. 
 
 Sally. Thank'ee, miss, thank'ee — it isn't for what one gets, but 
 when any thing is given to one — that way, ladies, you will be 
 waited on like princesses. You have only to touch the bell, or, go 
 to the stair head, and call " Sally, Sally Mags," and you'll tind mo 
 at your elbow, like magic. [Exeunt, Sophv and Amy, l.] Bless 'era, 
 if either of 'em is to be Mrs. Sappy, I shall break my heart, as if it 
 was my own case, — [Calls. '[ — coming, ladies. [Exit Sally, k 
 
 Enter Mrs. Plumply, /rom Bar, r. 
 
 Mrs. P. Well, Mr. Sappy may be as rich as Croesus, but, if 
 I ever met with sp complete a fool — ah, if either of these young 
 ladies is doomed to be his wife, I pity her from the bottom of my 
 soul
 
 DEAF AS A POST. V 
 
 During Ihis speech, TexMpleton enters l. d. in flat, and seats himself, 
 L. of table, icith newspaper. 
 
 Mrs. P. BIpss me, who is that gentleman 1 Did he drop from 
 the clouds 1 \Miat is it you desire ! 
 
 Temp. No, thank'ee, ma'am ; don't light a fire on my account. 
 I beer you won't put yourself in the least out of the way. 
 
 Airs. F. I suppose, sir, you wish to put up here for the night? 
 
 Temp. Oh no, he can hardly be here to-night ; but, I dare say, 
 ho'U arrive in time to breakfast with me, to-morrow morning. 
 
 [ Continues reading: 
 
 Mrs. P. What the deuce does he mean 1 Why, Crupper — Ost- 
 ler ! 
 
 Enter Crupper, l. d., in f. , 
 
 Who is this gentleman 1 Where does he come from "! Is he mad 1 
 
 Crup. No, ma'am — not mad — only, uncommonly thick of hearing. 
 
 Mrs. P. But how came he here] 
 
 Crup. Why, he rode into the yard, and got off his horse, which 
 was a bay mare, and handed her to me — "' Sir," says I, " we have 
 no room, to-night, neither for man nor beast." 
 
 Mrs. P. That was right. Well 
 
 Crup. So his answer to that was — ha ! ha ! " Half a peck of 
 oats, and I'll find my way to the house without you." Then I told 
 him, I'd speak to my mistress. 
 
 Mrs. P. Ay, speak to mistress. What did he say to that 1 
 
 Crup. He said — "Hub her down well, my lad," tipt me half 
 a crown, and was off. So I'm come to know what I'm to do. 
 
 Mrs. P. Well, if there is a stall for the horse, you may let it re- 
 main. 
 
 Crup. There's room for the mare, ma'am ; she's as fine a roadster 
 as ever was cross'd — and, the half crown's a new one. 
 
 [Exit Crupper, l. d. in F. 
 
 Mrs. P. So, there he is perfectly at home. 'Tis a pity he should 
 be so deaf, for he seems quite the gentleman. Ay, and a handsome 
 one too. However, I must make him understand he must go. \Vcry 
 loud.} Sir, I'm very sorry, but, my house is full on account of the 
 assizes. 
 
 Temp. I'm sorry, too, madam, for, I fear it will go hard with him. 
 His trial stands second on the list, I find. 
 
 Mrs. F. I have no accommodation for you, and request you'll go 
 away. 
 
 Temp. Thank'ee, thank'ee ; you are the prettiest landlady in all 
 Winchester; and while I stay in the town, I'll make this house my 
 home. [Jicads on. 
 
 Mrs. P. [Clearing her throat.] Ahem! He'll never hear me, 
 though I bawl myself hoarse. Well, he's a civil spoken gentleman, 
 at any rate, so he'll not be in any one's wav here for the present, 
 and
 
 10 DEAF AS A 1>0ST. 
 
 Enter Sappy, l. 
 
 Hap. Mrs. Plumply, are we to wait all night for supper 1 IdonY 
 understand this treatment. I pay my money, and I expect atlun 
 tion ; do you understand that, Mrs. Plumply ! 
 
 3[rs. F. Pray, have a little patience, sir ; Pm so hurried, I Lardly 
 know which way to turn. 
 
 Sap. A great misfortune, to be sure. It doesn't bring grist to 
 the mill. I suppose you'll be money in your pocket by me, won't 
 you^ 
 
 Mrs. P. 'Tis money hardly earned, lAside'] to be at the orders of 
 such vulgar fools as this. Sally ! Sally ! — 
 
 Sap. So it is, he ! he ! she's making a fortune, and she is to be 
 pitied, poor thing. 
 
 Enter Sally, r. 
 
 , Mrs. P. Let Mr. Sappy's supper be served immediately. 
 
 Sap. Come, miss, stir your stumps, and do as you are bid. 
 
 Sally. Lord, sir, I can't be in two places at once, unless I was a 
 bird. There isn't half so much fuss when one has the corporation 
 dinner to serve. 
 
 Sap. That's right, answer. — I can't bear to be answered by ser- 
 vants ; it's impertinent, damn'd impertinent. I advise you 
 not to answer when a gentleman speaks to you ; I don't like it» 
 
 Sally. I never do answer when a gentleman speaks to me. 
 
 ^Crosses l. 
 
 Sap. Very well, very well. To-morrow it will be, " please to re- 
 member the chamber-maid." You understand. Come, go and 
 hurry the cook. 
 
 Sally. Oh, the idiot ! if it wasn't that misses would be angrj", 
 Pd put as pretty a bunch of slinging nettles into his bed as ever 
 grew by a wall side. [Exit Sally, l. 
 
 Sap. That girl is what I call — by the by, Mrs. Plumply, I 
 don't mean to give wine at supper; so, if the old gentleman should 
 call for it, you must send negus, by mistake — you understand, he ! 
 he! 
 
 Mrs. P. I always send what is called for, sir. 
 
 Sap. O you do, then what he calls for, over seven shillings a- 
 head, he may pay for ; I don't stand et ceteras. 
 
 Enter Sally, l. d., in f. 
 
 Sally. Now, sir, supper is ready, and you may go to your friends, 
 and show 'cm the way to No. 11, on the first floor. 
 
 Temp. [Rising.] " No. 11, on the first floor," [.4s2<?e.] and— — 
 
 [Exit, K. D. in F 
 
 Sap. That's right. Now, Mrs. Plumply, recollect seven shillings 
 a-head ; but, I can't stand your whips and et ceteras. 
 
 Mrs. P. Ha ! ha ! ha !
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 11 
 
 Sap, Yon may laugh. By the by, do you know, Mrs. Plumply, 
 yo;i're a devilish pretty woman I I must have a kiss. 
 
 Mrs. P. Pray, keep your distance, sir. 
 
 Sap. Oh, the vixen ! I can tell you, though, I love all the 
 pretty women I see, ha ! ha ! and they all love me, ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Mrs. P. Very likely ; but I don't love all the pretty ineii I 
 see. 
 
 Sap. Oh ! a widow, and you don't fancy the human species ; — 
 come, that's very good. Well, I must join my party, and lead them 
 to the supper room. No. 11, on the first floor. Remember, 
 Mrs. Plumply, no ct-ceteras. 
 
 lE.tcuut, Sappy, l., Mrs. Plumply, r. 
 
 SCENE II. — A Room, loiih a Table laid for supper hi front. — At 
 the R., a table covered with green baize, aiid at the l., a table with 
 writing materials. — At the back of the stage is a flight of six steps, 
 leading to a bed-room, the window of which is seen. — Under the 
 window stands a large, old-fashioned elbow chair — Templeton dis- 
 covered, L., sitting at the supper taJAc, looking over the memorandum 
 book — Sally a few paces behind him. 
 
 Temp. My property, in Leifcestcrshire — five thousand annuity, 
 two thousand pounds in my banker's hands ; fourteen hundred 
 which my agent owes me — but, he is an honest debtor, and 
 I can aflbrd to wait ; I see no reason wliy I should oppress 
 him. 
 
 Sail//. There's a man ! he's as good as he is rich, I suppose 
 he's an acquaintance of Mr. Sappy's who has invited him to 
 supper. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Plumply, r. 
 
 Mrs. P. Now, Sally, I hope every thing is right, or we shall have 
 that goose, Mr. Sappy, tormenting us to death. But, how comes 
 that gentleman here ! 
 
 Sal.li/. Hush, ma'am ! don't speak to him, listen. 
 
 Mrs. P. S[)eak to him, indeed ! not I ; he's as deaf as a post. 
 
 Sally. Deaf ! poor gentleman ! young, and rich, and as deaf as a 
 post. 
 
 Mrs. P. And how do you know that he is richi 
 
 Sally. Why, ma'am, he has been reading loud out of that little 
 book, and he talks of millions, and thousands of millions, as I'd 
 talk of sixpence. 
 
 Mrs. P. But, he musn't remain licrc. Mr. Sappy has enn-ao-cd 
 Ihis room, and when he finds 
 
 Temp. [Shutting his honk.] Waiter! 
 
 Sally. Dear me ! he buwLs, for all the world like a deaf body. 
 
 [Placing herself near him. 
 
 Temp. Wai — so, so, my prcity maid, you are the waiter. Ajt 
 "vhat time do wg sup, my dear ! I*
 
 12 DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 Sally. At any time 5'ou please to order your supper, sir. You 
 may have it in the bar, sir. 
 
 Temp. Ha ! ha ! ha ! No, my dear, it wasn't that I said, for 1 
 see you are a pretty girl, but, I asked you when supper will be 
 ready. \To Mrs. P.] Your little maid appears rather hard of hear- 
 ing, ma'am. 
 
 Mrs. P. Well, Sally, the gentleman finds you pretty, and that's 
 all you care he should understand. 
 
 Sally. His eyes are better than his ears, at any rate. 
 
 Enter S.\ppy and Sophy, Amy and "Walton, l. 
 
 Sap. This way, this way. We've a private room, all to our- 
 selves, that we may be private. That is to say, the room we are to 
 sup in, he I he ! he ! 
 
 Sophy. [7'o Amy.] Good heavens! ) . 
 
 Amy. 'Tis Templcton, hush I y ^ ' •" 
 
 Wal. But who is that gentleman turning over his pocket book at 
 our table ! he does not perceive we are here. 
 
 [_Througliout the stipper scene, Sally must he employed in placing 
 and removing dishes, aiid in running in and out — she may 
 testify by her by-play that she is pleased and amused by Sappy's 
 sufferings. 
 
 Sap. Ay, mistres.s, what's your name, who is that strange man at 
 my table, in my room ] 
 
 Mrs. P. A very extraordinary person ; that's all I know of 
 the matter, so I'll leave you to manage him, if you can. [Exit, u. 
 
 [^^'ALTON, Sophy and Amy, take their seats at table. — The table 
 is completely occupied, when Sappy commences his speech to 
 Templeton. 
 
 Sap. That's soon done, when. I say — [Going behind Templeton, 
 a7id lapping him on the shoulder.} I say, mister, this isn't a pub- 
 lic ordinary, but a private room Tve engaged for my private 
 party. 
 
 Temp. You are very good, and I thank you, sir : but travellers 
 must take things as they find them ; besides, I cannot think of tak- 
 ing the head of the table. 
 
 Sap. Don"t be alarmed about that, for you'll find neither heads 
 hor tails for you here. You can't stay in my private room, so bo 
 cfT. This table is mine. [Striking it. 
 
 Temp. What, sit there ! indeed, I am very well where I am. 
 
 Sap. Very well ! ay, and the devil thank you. Father-in-law, I 
 wish you'd talk to hiin, for I can do nothing with him. 
 
 Wal. Why, don't you perceive the poor young gentleman is deaf!
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 13 
 
 Sap. Then why couldn't he say so at once 1 But I'll soon make 
 him listen to reason. IBawlmg.] Sir ! this ;.6 my room ; this is 
 my table ; — this is my party ; my father-in-law, and these two young 
 ladies [I'umtmg to Ihcm. 
 
 Temp. You are really too p )lite. but since you insist, I'll place 
 myself between the ladies. 
 
 [iiiscs — lakes his onm chair with him. Pushes Sappy on 
 one side to b.., and places himself between ladies, at top of 
 table. 
 
 Sap. \_Gelting round in front to r. corner of table.'] That's it 
 
 exactly ; this cover was laid for me, mister, and 
 
 \_Holding out his napkin. 
 
 Temp. [Taking it from him.'] Thank'ee, sir ; thank'ee. 
 
 Sap. You'd better take all — there-^plate, knife and fork, and all ; 
 that will be the shortest way. 
 
 [Thrusting them pettishly across the table to Templeton. 
 
 Temp. Sir, you overwhelm me with your civility.- I cannot think 
 of allowing you to wait on me. 
 
 Sap. Don't flatter yourself And where am I to sit 1 where am 
 I to sitl I don't like it, and you may sup without me. 
 
 [ Walks about sulkily. 
 
 Amy. Sir, the young man is deaf, and he appears to be a gen- 
 tleman ; you had better let him sup quietly, and take a seat your- 
 self 
 
 Wat. Ay, ay ; come, take a place, and eat your supper. 
 
 Sap. [Seating himself r. cor7ier of table.] But, Mr. Walton, I 
 don't like it ; you'll allow it's disagreeable, very disagreeable — 
 Sally '. I may say damned disagreeable, and especially when one 
 stands treat, to have the corner of a table sticking in one's stomach. 
 Sally ! 
 
 Sophy. [Rising.] Will you take my place, sir] 
 
 Sap. No. it isn't for that, only 
 
 Temp. Really, to compel me, who am a stranger, to accept the 
 most agreeable place at table, is an instance of politeness, that — ■ 
 and the manner of doing it — the delicacy, the — believe me, sir, I 
 shall not easily forget it. 
 
 Sap. Poh ! humbug ! you've nothing to thank mo for, if you 
 could hear all. Sully, a jilate ; but you might wait for .'ne at least 
 — hff gobbles like an ostrich ; — am 1 to have a plate, while there's 
 any thing to cat 1 
 
 Sally. Lord, sir, you bawl as if the house was on fire. What is 
 it you want ] 
 
 Sap. What do I waiitl why, since deafy has taken my jjlate, lay 
 me another. [Sally goes for one, l. table. 
 
 Temp. This certainly is one of the best inns I ever put up 
 
 At.
 
 J 4: DEJLF AS A POST. 
 
 Sap. And not dear, as you think ; but you shall sec that, mj 
 boy. 
 
 Sail}/. Ha ! ha ! ha ! there's a plate, a r. 
 
 Sap. What are you laughing at! I've no notion of servants 
 laughing. 
 
 Sally. I am laughing to think, what haste you must make to 
 overtake the rest of the company ; and as you are to pay 
 
 Sap. Pay ! yes, I know I'm to pay. 1 pay for myself, and three ; 
 but I'm not going to pay for a fellow I never saw before, mind 
 that. 
 
 Wal. Shame, shame ! do you imagine a gentleman, as he evi- 
 dently is, will allow you to pay for his supper! 
 
 Temp. Here is an excellent capon ; allow me to help you, 
 ladies. 
 
 Amy. Well, Mr. Sappy, though the gentleman be deaf, he does 
 the honor with infinite grace. 
 
 <S'fl^. That's right, praise him into the bargain. 
 
 Temp. I beg pardon, madam, I believe you spoke. 
 
 Sap. She said your conversation is very agreeable, he ! he ! 
 he! 
 
 Temp. Very, very ! but it cannot last. It would have been more 
 seasonable a month later. 
 
 [Sappy loohs at a piece of capon, and as he is about to stick his 
 fork in it, Templeton takes it. 
 
 Sap. There ! there, again ! the very bit I had set my heart on, 
 and the best bit in tlic dish. Though he's deaf, hang me if he's 
 blind. 
 
 Sophy. Ha ! ha ! ha ! all this ill humor about the wing of a 
 capon ! 
 
 Sap. It's the only part of the creature I'm fond of. 
 
 Amy. Let me give you a leg, sir. 
 
 Sap. Keep your legs to yourself, Miss Drumsticks — [ Walks away 
 from table ] — and I stiind treat too — he'll put mc in a passion — I'm 
 in a fever ! — 
 
 Wal. Come, come, sit down. 
 
 Sap. [Sits, and batols tn Templeton's ear.] I say, my man, I'd 
 advise you to punch it. 
 
 Temp. Punch, or any thing else you please; you, perhaps, are 
 acquainted with the taste of the ladies. 
 
 Sap. He ! he ! he ! that's capital ! at any rate, you make us a 
 little sport. 
 
 Temp. Port be it, then — a bottle of Port — good old Port — 
 l_Exit .S.\LLy, K.] "To be placed to this gentleman's account, and 
 mine. 
 
 Sap. [Starting bolt ■upright.'] Oh ! stop, I've nothing to do 
 with wine — I'm in for seven shillings a-head already — Port's too 
 lear
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 15 
 
 Enter Sally, with a hottlt of Port, which she puts on table, r. 
 
 Temp. [Rising. 1 Sir, I stand corrected — a bottle of Madeira. 
 [Exit Sally, r.] As a stranger. I waited for you to propose it, as 
 you have done, pnd thank you. We have here united beauty, 
 [Bowino- to the ladies,] urbanity, [To Walton,] good humor and 
 wit; [To Sappy,] and a glass of generous wine will not destroy 
 our relish of it. 
 
 Enter Sally, xoith another bottle, r. 
 
 Sap. Mind now, Sally ; mind, deafy called for it, and deafy may 
 pay lor it ; I'll not drink a drop. 
 
 Salli/. It's put down to your bill, sir, and you may settle with 
 the gentleman about that. 
 
 Temp. [Fills for the ladies, Walton, a>id himself and sa-i/s to 
 Sappy.] You'll join us, sir. 
 
 Sap. [Fills a bumper, sivalloivs it in a passion, shaking his head at 
 Teimpleton] I wish the devil had taken you, before ever you came 
 here. 
 
 Temp. Thank you, sir ; the same to you. 
 
 Wal. May I inquire, sir, whether your loss of hearing was oc- 
 casioned by an accident! 
 
 Temp. No. sir ; purposely, and on an affair of importance. 
 
 Sap. He ! he ! he ! that's it — there he is again. 
 
 Temp. Indeed, I may say that the affair which has brought ma 
 down here, is one of very deep and serious importance. 
 
 Wal. O, sir, I beg pardon — I inquire no farther. 
 
 Temp. My father ! no, sir, no, it is my uncle. The fact is, he 
 would marry his daughter, my charming cousin, contrary to her in- 
 clinations — but my uncle is a good man, and I hope, by my inter- 
 ference, to prevent this match. 
 
 Sap. I may as well eat my supper^ though. [Runs to the table. 
 
 Temp. My cousin is an angel ! But the man my uncle intends 
 for her husband is a blockhead ; and if on my arrival, the said block- 
 head should dispute the lield, it is my very tixed intention to snip 
 off both his ears. 
 
 Sap. \_About lo drink.] You seem to make nothing of snipping a 
 man's ears oil". 
 
 Temp. [Filling a glass."] Yours, sir, with all my heart. 
 
 Sap. Mine ! 
 
 Temp. [Filling again.] AVith the greatest pleasure ; I'm no 
 flinchcr ! 
 
 Sup. [Be sinning iii a venj loiv tone, and gradually lowering it, al- 
 most to a whisper.] If I thought you meant to be rude — Dam'me, 
 eir-'I'd knock you diwn, Dam'me — There you see, ladies, I'm not 
 to b'^ pui iii)on. 
 
 Amy. Sophy, shall we retire? it's late. [All rise except Temple- 
 ton J [Exeunt Sophy and Amy, l. 2 e.
 
 IG DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 Temp. Is supper ended 1 
 
 Sap. Oh! you had better begin again. But, I've scarcely eaten 
 a morsel. \.Aflcr a little reflection.'^ Sallj' ! Sally ! come quick. 
 
 Sally, ^^'ell, sir. 
 
 Sap. Fetch the bill, Sally — run : now, you deaf dog, we shall 
 Bee how you'll like paying. [Exit Sally, r. 
 
 Temp \_Comes forward.'] Before we separate, I suppose, wo 
 must draw our purse strings. The wine, sir, is understood to be 
 our affair. 
 
 Sap. Oar affair ! your affair if you please. You called for it, and 
 you must pay for it. 
 
 Temp. Certainly not — certainly not — it was so understood. This 
 gentleman [Pointing to ^Valton] has nothing to do with it. 
 
 Sap. {Tapping his pocket, and shaking his head ] I pay for the 
 supper I ordered, but hang me if I have any thing to do with the 
 wine. 
 
 Temp. Well, sir, since you are so kind as to insist, even lie 
 it so. The next time we meet, it will be my turn to furnish the 
 wine. 
 
 Sap. What ! 
 
 Temp. Let me see, that's it. [Taking out money. ] The travel- 
 ler's supper, at half a crown a-head, and sixpence for the maid. 
 There's my three shillings. 
 
 Sap. The supper is ordered, at seven shillings a-head. 
 
 Temp. Formerly it was so. but everj' thing is much dearer at 
 present, and 'tis the price all along the road. 
 
 Sap. [Taking seven shillings from his pocket, and holding them to 
 Templeton.] Seven shillings ! You can see, though you can't hear. 
 — You are to pay seven shillings. 
 
 Temp. [With an air of astonishment.] Sir! 
 
 Sap. It is seven shillings you are to pay.' 
 
 Temp. How, sir, after all your attentions, insist on paying for 
 my supper too ! 
 
 Sap. I pay for your supper ! I ask ! I appeal ! — Oh, here's the 
 landlady 
 
 Enter Mrs. Plumply and Sally, with the hill, r. 
 
 Show him the bill, Mrs. Plumply. The supper is ordered, at seven 
 shillings a-head ; tell him that. 
 
 Mrs. P. The bill. sir. 
 
 Temp. [To Mrs. P.] Madam, this gentleman, after over- 
 whelming me with civilities, insists on paj'ing my share of the 
 reckoning. 
 
 Sap. I ! if I pay for your supper, I v.'ish my supper may choke 
 me — and I hope that's plain enougli. 
 
 Temp. Ay, ay, if ever we meet again, I'm to — I see what you 
 mean. [Retires to table.
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 17 
 
 Sap. Confound you, I wish you'd Jicar what I mean. 
 
 WaL There's paper on the table, the best way will be to write io 
 to him 
 
 JSap. Deaf as he is, who knows whether he's able to readl 
 
 Wal Well, Mr. Sappy, begin, by showing him you are able to 
 write. 
 
 Sap. Write : that's a good one ! I suppose old Wak'em didn't 
 teach me running hand to flourish a fish. O; Sally, talking of writ- 
 ing, bo sure you put a sheet of paper, and a good pen, and a lighted 
 candle, on tlie table in my bed-room, yonder, for, before I go to 
 bed, I mean to write word to my relations, that my better half ia 
 arrived, he ! he ! he ! my better half, he ! he ! he ! 
 
 \^Duri7ig /his speech, he ivritcs a', table, l. v 
 
 Temp. Well, since the gentleman will not receive my share ol 
 the charge, there, young woman, take it for yourself, 
 
 [Gives the money to Sally. 
 
 Sap. Stop there a minute, stop, if you please ; you can read, 
 perhaps : here, read this, mister. \_Gives him a paper. 
 
 Temp. [^Reads.'\ '' To the Deaf Traveller" — whom do you mean, 
 sir, by the Deaf Traveller] — Sir, I put you to your feelings, whe- 
 ther it be delicate to direct thus : — " To the Deaf Traveller V Sup- 
 pose, now, you were the greatest fool in this town, would it be civil 
 in me, to address a letter "To the most notorious blockhead in the 
 city of Winchester !" meaning you! 
 
 Sap. That's neither here nor there — read, sir, read. 
 
 [Poiriting to the paper. 
 
 Temp. Well, "To the Deaf Traveller," if it must be so. 
 
 Sap. If it is the same thing to you. 
 
 Temp. {Reads '\ " It is proper to tell you, you are not at the 
 traveller's table" — I ask a thousand pardons ! had I known that 
 \_Looking at his dress 1 "But, with a private party in my private 
 room." \^To Sappy.] My dear sir, had you explained that to me, I 
 wouldn't have oftcnded you by offering to pay ; to be invited to 
 supper with a private party is a piece of civility that 
 
 Sap. Will you go on with the letter ■? 
 
 [Lifts Templeton's hand. 
 
 Temp. [Reads.] " I ordered supper for four, at seveu shillings a- 
 head, and, because you make five, and because I never pay for 
 folks I don't know, and, because I don't know you, you must pay 
 seven shillings for yourself Your servant, Tristram Sappy." I'hen, 
 after all, I am to pay. I'd rather it should be so ! 
 
 Sap. I'm glad you think so — so hand over the stumpy. 
 
 Temp. [Cumitmg the monei/ into Mrs. P.'s hand.] Seven, the 
 supper, and seven for my half share of the wine. iHcre Sappy 
 viakes a, grimace.'] There, ma'am, fourteen shillings. The half 
 crown I have given you, you may keep, my dear. [Retires to table, 
 
 Sally. Thank'ee, sir, thank'ee.
 
 18 DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 Sap. There, Sally, you may thank me for getting you that — for 
 if I hadn't given you a supper here 
 
 Sally. Come, sir, mistress is wailing for you, to settle the bill. 
 
 Sap. [Gaping.] Father-in-law, it's time for us to go to bed. 
 
 Wal. iln L. corner.] You had better pay your bill tirst. 
 
 Sap. Pay ! Why, Mrs. Plumply knows me, and 
 
 Wal. You've obliged the gentleman to put down his share at 
 once, and you ought to pay j'our own. 
 
 Mrs. P. Yes, sir, so we ought to settle the bill now, sir. 
 
 Sap. Oh! we had, eh! iCrosscs Sally to Mks. P.] Well, this 
 is the last time you see the color of my money, mind that. If ever 
 I spend another sixpence at the Bell — twenty-eight shilhngs, isn't 
 if! 
 
 Mrs. P. [Holding her hand, in tchich is Templeton's money.] 
 And seven for wine, sir. 
 
 Sap. Twenty-eight, and seven for wine — I wish he had been a 
 — seven for wine. Another time, Mrs. Plumply, what folks call for^ 
 folks may pay for- -Thirty-three. [Sally stands holding out her 
 hand, as if expecting scmethmg.~\ Sally, my dear, go warm my bed, 
 up yonder — thirty-four — go and warm my bed, I tell you, because I 
 like my bed warm'd with a brass warming-pan. 
 
 Sally. The stingy hound ! [Exit Sallt, e. 
 
 Sap. Thirty-five — there. [Walks away with a stupid stare, and 
 counts on his fingers.'] Thia v^cn't do often. [Exit Mrs. P., r. 
 
 Wal. Mr. Sappy, will you i me and have half an hour's chat 
 with me in my room! [Templeton rises, and comes forward. 
 
 Sap. No, thank'ee, I hav'n't supped yet, and I'll amuse myself 
 here for half an hour, he ! he ! he ! I shan't want a chambermaid 
 to show me the way to my room, he ! he ! he ! 
 
 [Points to the room up the steps. 
 
 [Templeton boios to Walton, and, while Sappy is placing him- 
 self at the tabic, takes a candle from r. side table, and walks 
 up leisurely and unperceived into Sappy's bedroom. 
 
 Sap. Good night, father-in-law. 
 
 Wal. Good night, son-in-law. [ Crosses to l.] Son-in-law ! if I 
 could but contrive to get rid of that plaguy fine, I'd bid the idiot 
 good night in earnest. He marry my girl ! Deafy's worth a 
 thousand of him, for a man had better want ears than brains. 
 
 [Exit, L. 1 K. 
 
 Sap. What a goose my father-in-law is, talking to himself there, 
 he's astonished at my cleverness, I dare say. 
 
 Enter Sally, with warming-pan, r. ' 
 
 Temp. [Shuts the door .'] Ha! [Gapes.] Now for a quiet night"* 
 rest.
 
 DEAF AS A POST. Ifl 
 
 Sappy takes a leg of a fowl, and a glass of wini — rises from 
 the tabic, and dances about ridiculously, humming a tune. 
 Sally, after observing him for a short lime, and laughing, 
 taps him on the shoulder as he reseats himself. 
 
 Sally. The deaf gentleman is just going to bed in your room. 
 
 Sap. \_Starts up, and eomcs forward, his mouth being so full as to 
 prevent his speaking ; he makes several violent and thrcathcning ges- 
 tures. After many attempts, he exclaims.} The confounded — infernal 
 ^--eternal — [He runs up the steps, threalemng with his fist, knocks at 
 the door — receiving no answer, he knocks louder, and louder J You 
 are in my room, sir ; come out of my room. 
 
 Temp. This seems to be one of the quietest houses I ever was in 
 in my life — that's a perfect luxury, when one is inclined to sleep, 
 ha ! [ Gapes. 
 
 Sap. iKnocks.'] Hallo ! it's my bed — if you turn in, you must 
 turn out. iKnoeks. 
 
 Sally. Sir, you'll wake all the house. 
 
 Sap. What do I care whether other people sleep or not, when I 
 have no bed to go to — I'll break the door down. [Knocks and kicks.'] 
 
 'Tisu't wind, Mr. 'tis I, Mr. Sappy, kicking up a breeze ; give 
 
 me my room, and be hanged to you. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Plumplv, r. 
 
 Mrs. P. What's the matter here 1 
 
 Sap. The matter is, that this everlasting deaf dog has block'd me 
 out of my bed-room, and I don't like it. 
 
 Mrs. P. But, you mustn't disturb all the house. 
 
 Sap. That's all one to me. 
 
 Mrs. P. But, it isn't all one to me, sir. Sally, go send for a 
 constable. 
 
 Temp. After all, I'm an unfortunate being. 
 
 Sap. There, he's talking again. 
 
 Temp. By day, my deafness doesn't much signify, but, at night, 
 and in a strange house, too ! I have three hundred pound.s in my 
 pocket-book, and the doors in these inns may be blown open with 
 a breath. 1 might be easily robbed in my sleep, for a thunderbolt 
 falling at ray side wouldn't wake mo. Ill place my table against 
 the door, and with this brace of double-barrelled pistol.s, [Sappv re- 
 tires from the steps,] loaded with slugs, — the lirst person that enters, 
 shall have them clean through his head, were it as thick as the 
 walls of Winchester jail. 
 
 [Sappy advances to the front of the stage. 
 
 Mrs. P. As to a bed for you, that is out of the question ; but, 
 you may take the run of the house — you may lie in a good arm- 
 chair. 
 
 Sap. I can't sleep in a chair ; it gives me the cramp.
 
 20 DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 Mrs. P. There's nothing else, sir, so, while you are making up 
 your mind, I shall go to bed. 
 
 Sap. Well, then, I'll try the arm-chair, Mrs. Plumply. — [To 
 Sally, who is about to remove the dishes.} — Stop, Sally, don't take 
 them away to-night. If I wake, I shall be glad of a mouthful ; and 
 besides, I've paid for it. 
 
 Mrs. P. Poh ! poll ! I can't have my servants kept up all night 
 Sally, clear the things. 
 
 Sap. I shall never sleep so — [Turns the chair'] — nor so. [iff 
 rises, appears lost in thought ; then suddenly throws off his coat, and 
 bursts out singingi — I have it, I have it — tol de rol ! — I have it — 
 [He removes the dishes, <^c., and places the lack of the large chair 
 against the head of the tabic — the cushion of the chair he arranges as 
 a pillow — then Limes out one candle. All this time he is singing and 
 hopping about. — He is soing to extinguish the other candle, when hi 
 suddenly stops.} — As deafy said, there's no knowing what sort of 
 people may be in the house ; and I've heard of robbers who some- 
 times hide. — Oh ! what's thatl 
 
 Enter Crupper, k., with loot-jack. 
 
 Who are you ? — Oh ! Mr. Crupper — what's the matter 1 
 
 Crtip. Your honor will take off your boats 1 
 
 Sap. No. my honor won't — I never do, when I wear shoes. 
 That's not so bad, he ! he ! I say, Master Crupper — lord, what a 
 thought ! he ! he ! I say. 
 
 Crup. Yes, sir. 
 
 Sep. If it wasn't for his pistols. 
 
 Crup. Sir] 
 
 Sap. Could you — could you, (.speak softly,) he ! he ! he ! Could 
 you, if it was made worth your while, put a troublesome fellow into 
 a horse-pond 1 
 
 Crup. Not if he was very troublesome, sir ; but I could get a 
 couple of stout fellows to do it for me. 
 
 Sap. What an idea ! [Chuckling.'] Then, I tell you what : have 
 'em ready, and if you hear me call out fire ! murder ! thieves ! do 
 you only take the troublesome chap that's up in that room, and 
 give him a good ducking ; and I'll give you — damn'd expensive 
 too. 
 
 Crup. What, sir? 
 
 Sap. A guinea, I don't mind. Four times seven is twenty- 
 eight. Seven, tho wine, and, one pound one for a horse-pond. I 
 don't like it. 
 
 Crup. And dang me if I do it without. 
 
 Sap. He took my place, — eat my sujipcr^^— stole my bed ; yes, 
 on the word of a 'squire, I'll give it, when the job's done. Let me 
 see. [ Considering. 
 
 Crup. I'll not be seen in this myself; I may be made to pay for
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 21 
 
 it ; so I'll give two of the young recruits in the kitchen a crown a 
 piece. They may be oft' when the job's done, and I shall pocket 
 eleven good shillings — money down. 
 
 Sap. Well ; revenge is sweet. But, you mustn't blab. 
 
 Cru'f. No, I never tell tales of myself. He shan't know who 
 did it. 
 
 Sap. I shall be a-bed, you know. Pretend to know nothing. 
 IGives a gui7iea.'\ Oh ! good, isn't it 1 
 
 Crup. \_Taking guinea.'\ It looks as if it war — mum, your honor. 
 
 \_Exit Crupper, r. 
 
 Sap. Mum ! your honor ! I like to be called your honor ! Dear 
 me — I shall now be even with that deaf rascal. But I must pretend 
 to go to bed here ; and, when he pops into the horse-pond, I'll pop 
 into my room. \_Bcgms to arrange bed.'\ What a rage Deafy will be 
 in — a horse-pond ! Suppose he should call me out. Ergo, he must 
 get out himself first, he ! he ! he ! that's not bad ! I shall be quits 
 with you — you'll snip off my ear ! — couldn't stick a fork in a capon 
 wing, but, oft' it flew to Deafy — wing, flew, that's not bad. Good 
 night, you old poacher. I'll wait till I think he's asleep before I 
 give the signal ; and then, while I snore, they'll think me quite in- 
 nocent. I look like an innocent, with this napkin for a nightcap. 
 Good night, Deafy , I'm afraid you'll have a wet night, when you're 
 in the horse-pond — that's not bad. And if the worst comes to the 
 worst, I can but go to law, and prove I did it in my own defence. 
 \_Lies down. During the above, Templeton comes down stairs softly, 
 takes Sappy's candle, and goes off, l.] There, I shut my eyes ; Good 
 night. — Eh ! why the candle's gone out all of itself. I don't like 
 that. This is the room they brought the dead man into, that was 
 hung for — what's that 1 I don't like being in the dark ; I may see 
 something. [Feels about — pushes the hair from his head — nearly 
 falls, rises and comes forward.] O Lord ! It's nothing but myself. 
 I can see Deafy's light through the window-curtains — and the 
 door's open. Gad, I'll peep — but, the pistols. Well, if he stirs, 
 I'll give the signal directly. iGoes up, and looks in.] Nobody here ! 
 he's off"! — he's robbed the house. I said he was a thief at first — 
 horse-pond ; dam'me, he'll be hanged. It's time to alarm the family, 
 indeed — murder ! fire ! thieves ! [ Goes in, bawling, room door, c. 
 
 Enter Crupper, and two men. 
 
 Crup. There, up there. Don't mind what he says — take him 
 out — chuck him in, and be off as fast as your legs can carry you. 
 
 [They go v]) into the room. 
 Sap. Why, is the house dead 1 murder' fire! thieves! 
 Crup. Oh, they be coming, never fear. [Exit, K. 
 
 Sap. Why, what dy'e mean 1 It isn't me. 
 1st Man. Yes, we be to take a troulicsome fellow. 
 Sap. Tliieves ! fire ! murder ! [As they i,arry him off, l.
 
 22 DEAF AS A POST. 
 
 ETiter Mr. Walton, l., Mrs. Plumply aJid Sally Mags, ipitk 
 candles, r. 
 
 Mn. P. \Miy, what is the matter 1 
 
 Wal. To run oft' with my daughter — a villain. I was so sick of 
 his thick-headed rival, that, if your friend had asked me fairly for 
 her, I don't think but I might have consented ; but, such conduct 
 as this deserves a horse-pond. 
 
 Enter Crupper, s. 
 
 Crup. He's got it by this time. Will you stand blame 1 
 
 lAside to Walton. 
 Wai. No ! has he 1 That I will. lExit Crupper, r. 
 
 Sappy, without, l. 
 
 Sap. I don't like it. It's not proper 
 
 Templeton, eyitering with Sappy, l. 1 k. 
 
 Temp. Hark'ye, sir, I've generously saved you from the horse- 
 pond you meant for me ; and now, you must either give up the 
 lady, or answer in the field, for what I overheard of your veiy kind 
 intentions. 
 
 Sap. I don't like the fields. 
 
 Wal. Where's my daughter 1 
 
 Sap. What, arn't you deaf! 
 
 Temp. No, sir; but ready to answer any questions you may 
 choose to put. — Your daughter, sir, is here ; 
 
 * . Enter Sophy and Amy, l. 1 e. 
 
 and, though she agreed to meet me, with her friend, refused her 
 hand until you give consent. Yours, sir, iTo Sappy,] I cannot 
 doubt of, as 5'ou know the alternative. 
 
 Sap. To tell you the truth, the lady quizzes me, and I don't like 
 to be quizz'd ; and, if it wasn't for the fine of five hundred pounds, 
 which I must pay if I refuse 
 
 Wal. 0, no ! I'll forgive the five hundred pounds, sooner than she 
 shall wed a fool ; and, when Captain Templeton proves himself 
 worth)' 
 
 Temp. Sir, I'll endeavor. The permission to do so makes me so 
 happ3', that, since your folly, Mr. Sappy, has done so much more 
 for me than any of my own, I'll pay your supper bill. 
 
 Sap. Wine, and all ! 
 
 Temp. And invite you to my wedding-dinner. 
 
 Sap. Will you. indeed 1 Then, to show you I bear no malic3, 
 I'll sup and dine with you as often as 3'ou please ; and besides that 
 — Oh! what was I going to sayl — oh! — if certain people havo
 
 DEAF AS A POST. 23 
 
 perceived any little fault in certain people's conduct, which have 
 served 'em to laugh at, this evening — why — why, as we've made 
 our follies as short as possible, I hope they'll come before long, and 
 laugh at them again. 
 
 DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL OF 
 THE CURTAIN. 
 
 Sally. Temp. Sophy. Sap. Mrs. P. Old VVah 
 ft. a. L.m
 
 3 1205 02089 3580 
 
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