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Title: The McNaughtens

Author: Jean-Francois Regnard

Translator: Frank J. Morlock

Posting Date: October 31, 2014 [EBook #4977] Release Date: July, 2004 First Posted: November 4, 2002

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MCNAUGHTENS ***

Produced by Dagny and Frank J. Morlock

This Etext is for private use only. No republication for profit in print or other media may be made without the express consent of the Copyright Holder. The Copyright Holder is especially concerned about performance rights in any media on stage, cinema, or television, or audio or any other media, including readings for which an entrance fee or the like is charged. Permissions should be addressed to: Frank Morlock, 6006 Greenbelt Rd, #312, Greenbelt, MD 20770, USA or [email protected]. Other works by this author may be found at http://www.cadytech.com/dumas/personnage.asp?key=130

THE MCNAUGHTENS

A play based on the Menechemes of Regnard

              Translated and adapted by F. J. Morlock
                       C 1986 by F. J. Morlock

CHARACTERS

McNaughten
Captain McNaughten
Mr. Hastings, Flavella's father
Flavella, his daughter
Urania, Hastings' older sister
Jenny, Urania's maid
Spruce, the Captain's valet
Mr. Torrington, a solicitor
Squire
Mr. Bronlow, a merchant

ACT I.

Scene I. A street in London. Captain McNaughten comes in, looking for his valet.

Captain I am quite beside myself. A curse on Spruce! I think he was born for the sole purpose of enraging me. I am not going to put up with him any longer. The scoundrel always tries my patience to the limits. He knows very well that I am waiting for him on tenterhooks— But now I see him coming. Where have you been, rogue? Tell me.

(Spruce enters, carrying a heavy trunk which he first puts down and then sits on, without responding to the Captain.)

Captain
Speak, reply!

Spruce For the moment, sir, I have nothing to say. Let me get my breath a moment, please—I'm totally winded.

Captain Do you always intend to put me in a fury and then play with me? I don't know what prevents me from giving you a beating. What, you rogue, just to go off to the custom house to get my trunk, takes you all day?

Spruce Oh, sir, customs inspectors are terrible men. All the savages in the world are less barbarous. They can only talk in monosyllables. "yes, no, what, sir? I have no time. But, sir— Would you kindly open up—" They need maybe a hundred words in their vocabulary. They give me a headache. Finally, when you need them for something, they're more proud and stuck up than an archbishop.

Captain What! Do you mean to pretend you stayed at the customs house until just now?

Spruce Oh, no. Seeing the customs inspector was about to take more than an hour—besides, he had a disagreeable phiz—I preferred to wait at a tavern.

Captain Your yen for brew always gets the best of you. Does wine command you always?

Spruce Everyone has his weakness, sir.— As you are well aware. It's the bad example more than the brew that puts me down the wrong road. I'd really like to live a clean life—

Captain
Why do you always keep bad company, then?

Spruce I've made several efforts to avoid it—all in vain. I like you a lot and I don't want to leave you.

Captain
What's that, scoundrel?

Spruce Sir, an ancient custom of speaking my mind gives me the right. My case is like your own. I've seen you drunk more than once in a tavern, and many's the time I had to help you home to bed. I've never scolded you much about these little escapades—we ought not to mention other people's infirmities— Forget them, since they forget ours.

Captain I'll forgive you for liking your bottle—if I thought that was your only vice—but your penchant for one sin carries you on to a thousand others. You have a strange passion for gambling.

Spruce Oh, if I gamble a little it's only to spend the time while you are spending the night in certain black gambling dens. I hear you swearing right up to the door. I swear, too, when luck is against me. And who can tell us apart? You swear in your room, and I swear on the stairs. I imitate you in every respect. You drink, gamble, and love with extreme passion, and I drink, gamble—and love a little, too. And if I am a flirt, it's because you are one, too. Consummate in the art, I might add. You go every day with a vagabond ardor, raffling off all the ladies—from blond to brunette. Today, Flavella dominates you—you say you love her—but I don't know why.

Captain You don't know why! Is it possible you refuse to render homage to her charms, to her divine eyes? I saw her at her aunt's, where I was quite enchanted. She wounded me to the heart.

Spruce Yet you have an attentive soul for her crazy Aunt—Urania. Now I approve of Urania. Perfect choice. Without her money we'd be in an awful fix. Meanwhile, I profit, too. You cajole the Aunt, and I corrupt Jenny, her maid— Thus, you see—

Captain Yes, I see—in a word you think you know everything. You are nothing but a near sighted fool! To prevent yourself from uttering some new stupidity, shut up, and take my trunk to the hotel.

Spruce (picking up the trunk) I obey. But if I should want to speak on this vain subject again, believe me, I can hold forth at some length.

Captain
Oh, be quiet!

Spruce
When I have a mind to, I can speak better than anybody—

Captain
Wait! Whose trunk is this?

Spruce
Huh! By George, it's yours.

Captain
It doesn't in the least look like mine.

Spruce For a while, I had the same suspicion as you. But it's got your name and address on it—and that relieved my mind of any doubt. (puts the trunk down) Here, read the words very plainly written. To McNaughten, London.

Captain True, but wait a bit,—what do you say to this? It's not my handwriting. Therefore, it is not my trunk.

Spruce
You're right. But it resembles your handwriting a great deal.

Captain
You acted impulsively in taking this trunk.

Spruce But, sir, do you take me for a fool? In returning from Flanders, where you had an abrupt discharge from your regiment, did I not put the trunk, at your instruction, on a