The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Constant Couple, by George Farquhar, et al
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Title: The Constant Couple
or, A Trip to the Jubilee
Author: George Farquhar
Release Date: May 18, 2010 [eBook #32419]
Language: English
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THE CONSTANT COUPLE;
Or,
A Trip to the Jubilee;
A Comedy, in Five Acts;
by
GEORGE FARQUHAR, ESQ.
As Performed at the Theatres Royal,
Drury Lane and Covent Garden.
Printed Under the Authority of the Managers
from the Prompt Book.
With remarks by Mrs. Inchbald.
London:
Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme,
Paternoster Row.
William Savage, Printer,
London.
REMARKS.
George Farquhar, the author of this comedy, was the son of a clergyman
in the north of Ireland. He was born in the year 1678, discovered an
early taste for literature, and wrote poetic stanzas at ten years of
age.
In 1694 he was sent to Trinity College, Dublin, and there made such
progress in his studies as to acquire considerable reputation. But he
was volatile and poor--the first misfortune led him to expense; the
second, to devise means how to support his extravagance.
The theatre has peculiar charms for men of letters. Whether as a subject
of admiration or animadversion, it is still a source of high amusement;
and here Farquhar fixed his choice of a profession, in the united
expectations of pleasure and of profit--he appeared on the stage as an
actor, and was disappointed of both.
The author of this licentious comedy is said to have possessed the
advantages of person, manners, and elocution, to qualify him for an
actor; but that he could never overcome his natural timidity. Courage
is a whimsical virtue. It acts upon one man so as to make him expose
his whole body to danger, whilst he dares not venture into the
slightest peril one sentiment of his mind. Such is often the soldier's
valour.--Another trembles to expose his person either to a wound or to
the eye of criticism, and yet will dare to publish every thought that
ever found entrance into his imagination. Such is often the valour of a
poet.
Farquhar, abashed on exhibiting his person upon the stage, sent boldly
thither his most indecorous thoughts, and was rewarded for his audacity.
In the year 1700 he brought out this comedy of "The Constant Couple; or,
A Trip to the Jubilee." It was then the Jubilee year at Rome, and the
author took advantage of that occurrence to render the title of his
drama popular; for which cause alone it must be supposed he made any
thing in his play refer to that festival, as no one material point is in
any shape connected with it.
At the time Farquhar was a performer, a sincere friendship was formed
between him and Wilks, the celebrated fine gentleman of the stage--for
him, Farquhar wrote the character of Sir Harry Wildair; and Wilks, by
the very admirable manner in which he supported the part, divided with
the author those honours which the first appearance of the work obtained
him.
As a proof that this famed actor's abilities, in the representation of
the fine gentlemen of his day, were not over-rated, no actor, since he
quitted the stage, has been wholly successful in the performance of this
character; and, from Wilks down to the present time, the part has only
been supported, with celebrity, by women.
The noted Mrs. Woffington was highly extolled in Sir Harry; and Mrs.
Jordan has been no less admired and attractive.
But it must be considered as a disgrace to the memory of the men of
fashion, of the period in which Wildair was brought on the stage, that
he has ever since been justly personated, by no other than the female
sex. In this particular, at least, the present race of fashionable
beaux cannot be said to have degenerated; for, happily, they can be
represented by men.
The love story of Standard and Lurewell, in this play, is interesting to
the reader, though, in action, an audience scarcely think of either of
them; or of any one in the drama, with whom the hero is not positively
concerned. Yet these two lovers, it would seem, love with all the
usual ardour and constancy of gallants and mistresses in plays and
novels--unfortunately, with the same short memories too! Authors, and
some who do not generally deal in wonders, often make persons, the most
tenderly attached to each other, so easily forget the shape, the air,
the every feature of the dear beloved, as to pass, after a few years
separation, whole days together, without the least conjecture that each
is the very object of the other's search! Whilst all this surprising
forgetfulness possesses them, as to the figure, face, and mind of him or
her whom they still adore, show either of them but a ring, a bracelet,
a mole, a scar, and here remembrance instantly occupies its place,
and both are immediately inspired with every sensation which first
testified their mutual passion. Still the sober critic must arraign the
strength of this love with the shortness of its recollection; and charge
the renewal of affection for objects that no longer appear the same, to
fickleness rather than to constancy.
The biographers of Farquhar, who differ in some articles concerning him,
all agree that he was married, in the year 1704, to a lady, who was so
violently in love with him, that, despairing to win him by her own
attractions, she contrived a vast scheme of imposition, by which she
allured him into wedlock, with the full conviction that he had married a
woman of immense fortune.
The same biographers all bestow the highest praise upon poor Farquhar
for having treated this wife with kindness; humanely forgiving the fault
which had deprived him of that liberty he was known peculiarly to prize,
and reduced him to the utmost poverty, in order to support her and her
children.
This woman, whose pretended love was of such fatal import to its object,
not long enjoyed her selfish happiness--her husband's health gradually
declined, and he died four years after his marriage. It is related that
he met death with fortitude and cheerfulness. He could scarcely do
otherwise, when life had become a burden to him. He had, however, some
objects of affection to leave behind, as appears by the following
letter, which he wrote a few days before his decease, and directed to
his friend Wilks:--
"DEAR BOB,
"I have not any thing to leave you to perpetuate my memory, except two
helpless girls; look upon them sometimes, and think of him that was, to
the last moment of his life, thine,
"GEORGE FARQUHAR."
Wilks protected the children--their mother died in extreme indigence.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
DRURY LANE. COVENT GARDEN.
SIR HARRY WILDAIR _Mr. Elliston._ _Mr. Lewis._
ALDERM. SMUGGLER _Mr. Dowton._ _Mr. Quick._
COLONEL STANDARD _Mr. Barrymore._ _Mr. Farren._
CLINCHER, JUN. _Mr. Collins._ _Mr. Blanchard._
BEAU CLINCHER _Mr. Bannister._ _Mr. Cubitt._
VIZARD _Mr. Holland._ _Mr. Macready._
TOM ERRAND _Mr. Wewitzer._ _Mr. Powell._
DICKY _Mr. Purser._ _Mr. Simmons._
CONSTABLE _Mr. Maddocks._ _Mr. Thompson._
SERVANTS _Mr. Fisher, &c._
LADY LUREWELL _Mrs. Powell._ _Miss Chapman._
LADY DARLING _Miss Tidswell._ _Miss Platt._
ANGELICA _Miss Mellon._ _Mrs. Mountain._
PARLY _Mrs. Scott._ _Miss Stuart._
TOM ERRAND'S WIFE _Mrs. Maddocks._
_SCENE--London._
THE
CONSTANT COUPLE.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I
_The Park_
_Enter_ VIZARD _with a Letter, his_ SERVANT _following_.
_Vizard._ Angelica send it back unopened! say you?
_Serv._ As you see, sir?
_Vizard._ The pride of these virtuous women is more insufferable than
the immodesty of prostitutes--After all my encouragement, to slight me
thus!
_Serv._ She said, sir, that imagining your morals sincere, she gave you
access to her conversation; but that your late behaviour in her company
has convinced her that your love and religion are both hypocrisy, and
that she believes your letter, like yourself, fair on the outside, and
foul within; so sent it back unopened.
_Vizard._ May obstinacy guard her beauty till wrinkles bury it.--I'll be
revenged the very first opportunity.----Saw you the old Lady Darling,
her mother?
_Serv._ Yes, sir, and she was pleased to say much in your commendation.
_Vizard._ That's my cue----An esteem grafted in old age is hardly rooted
out; years stiffen their opinions with their bodies, and old zeal is
only to be cozened by young hypocrisy. [_Aside._] Run to the Lady
Lurewell's, and know of her maid whether her ladyship will be at home
this evening. Her beauty is sufficient cure for Angelica's scorn.
[_Exit_ SERVANT. VIZARD _pulls out a Book, reads, and walks about_.
_Enter_ SMUGGLER.
_Smug._ Ay, there's a pattern for the young men o' th' times; at his
meditation so early; some book of pious ejaculations, I'm sure.
_Vizard._ This Hobbes is an excellent fellow! [_Aside._] Oh, uncle
Smuggler! To find you at this end o' th' town is a miracle.
_Smug._ I have seen a miracle this morning indeed, cousin Vizard.
_Vizard._ What is it, pray, sir?
_Smug._ A man at his devotion so near the court--I'm very glad, boy,
that you keep your sanctity untainted in this infectious place; the very
air of this park is heathenish, and every man's breath I meet scents of
atheism.
_Vizard._ Surely, sir, some great concern must bring you to this
unsanctified end of the town.
_Smug._ A very unsanctified concern, truly, cousin.
_Vizard._ What is it?
_Smug._ A lawsuit, boy--Shall I tell you?--My ship, the Swan, is newly
arrived from St. Sebastian, laden with Portugal wines: now the impudent
rogue of a tide-waiter has the face to affirm it is French wines in
Spanish casks, and has indicted me upon the statute----Oh, conscience!
conscience! these tide-waiters and surveyors plague us more than the
war--Ay, there's another plague of the nation--
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.
A red coat and cockade.
_Vizard._ Colonel Standard, I'm your humble servant.
_Colonel S._ May be not, sir.
_Vizard._ Why so?
_Colonel S._ Because----I'm disbanded.
_Vizard._ How! Broke?
_Colonel S._ This very morning, in Hyde-Park, my brave regiment, a
thousand men, that looked like lions yesterday, were scattered, and
looked as poor and simple as the herd of deer that grazed beside them.
_Smug._ Tal, al deral. [_Singing._] I'll have a bonfire this night as
high as the monument.
_Colonel S._ A bonfire! Thou dry, withered, ill-nature; had not those
brave fellows' swords defended you, your house had been a bonfire ere
this, about your ears.----Did we not venture our lives, sir?
_Smug._ And did we not pay for your lives, sir?--Venture your lives! I'm
sure we ventured our money, and that's life and soul to me.----Sir,
we'll maintain you no longer.
_Colonel S._ Then your wives shall, old Actæon. There are five and
thirty strapping officers gone this morning to live upon free quarter in
the city.
_Smug._ Oh, lord! oh, lord! I shall have a son within these nine months,
born with a leading staff in his hand.----Sir, you are----
_Colonel S._ What, sir?
_Smug._ Sir, I say that you are----
_Colonel S._ What, sir?
_Smug._ Disbanded, sir, that's all----I see my lawyer yonder. [_Exit._
_Vizard._ Sir, I'm very sorry for your misfortune.
_Colonel S._ Why so? I don't come to borrow money of you; if you're my
friend, meet me this evening at the Rummer; I'll pay my foy, drink a
health to my king, prosperity to my country, and away for Hungary
to-morrow morning.
_Vizard._ What! you won't leave us?
_Colonel S._ What! a soldier stay here, to look like an old pair of
colours in Westminster Hall, ragged and rusty! No, no----I met yesterday
a broken lieutenant, he was ashamed to own that he wanted a dinner, but
wanted to borrow eighteen pence of me to buy a new scabbard for his
sword.
_Vizard._ Oh, but you have good friends, colonel!
_Colonel S._ Oh, very good friends! My father's a lord, and my elder
brother, a beau; mighty good indeed!
_Vizard._ But your country may, perhaps, want your sword again.
_Colonel S._ Nay, for that matter, let but a single drum beat up for
volunteers between Ludgate and Charing Cross, and I shall undoubtedly
hear it at the walls of Buda.
_Vizard._ Come, come, colonel, there are ways of making your fortune at
home--Make your addresses to the fair; you're a man of honour and
courage.
_Colonel S._ Ay, my courage is like to do me wondrous service with the
fair. This pretty cross cut over my eye will attract a duchess--I
warrant 'twill be a mighty grace to my ogling--Had I used the stratagem
of a certain brother colonel of mine, I might succeed.
_Vizard._ What was it, pray?
_Colonel S._ Why, to save his pretty face for the women, he always
turned his back upon the enemy.--He was a man of honour for the ladies.
_Vizard._ Come, come, the loves of Mars and Venus will never fail; you
must get a mistress.
_Colonel S._ Pr'ythee, no more on't--You have awakened a thought, from
which, and the kingdom, I would have stolen away at once.----To be
plain, I have a mistress.
_Vizard._ And she's cruel?
_Colonel S._ No.
_Vizard._ Her parents prevent your happiness?
_Colonel S._ Not that.
_Vizard._ Then she has no fortune?
_Colonel S._ A large one. Beauty to tempt all mankind, and virtue to
beat off their assaults. Oh, Vizard! such a creature!
_Enter_ SIR HARRY WILDAIR, _crosses the Stage singing, with_ FOOTMEN
_after him_.
Heyday! who the devil have we here?
_Vizard._ The joy of the playhouse, and life of the park; Sir Harry
Wildair, newly come from Paris.
_Colonel S._ Sir Harry Wildair! Did not he go a volunteer some three or
four years ago?
_Vizard._ The same.
_Colonel S._ Why, he behaved himself very bravely.
_Vizard._ Why not? Dost think bravery and gaiety are inconsistent? He's
a gentleman of most happy circumstances, born to a plentiful estate; has
had a genteel and easy education, free from the rigidness of teachers,
and pedantry of schools. His florid constitution being never ruffled by
misfortune, nor stinted in its pleasures, has rendered him entertaining
to others, and easy to himself. Turning all passion into gaiety of
humour, by which he chuses rather to rejoice with his friends, than be
hated by any; as you shall see.
_Enter_ SIR HARRY WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ Ha, Vizard!
_Vizard._ Sir Harry!
_Sir H._ Who thought to find you out of the Rubric so long? I thought
thy hypocrisy had been wedded to a pulpit-cushion long ago.--Sir, if I
mistake not your face, your name is Standard?
_Colonel S._ Sir Harry, I'm your humble servant.
_Sir H._ Come, gentlemen, the news, the news o' th' town, for I'm just
arrived.
_Vizard._ Why, in the city end o' th' town we're playing the knave, to
get estates.
_Colonel S._ And in the court end playing the fool, in spending them.
_Sir H._ Just so in Paris. I'm glad we're grown so modish.
_Vizard._ We are so reformed, that gallantry is taken for vice.
_Colonel S._ And hypocrisy for religion.
_Sir H._ A-la-mode de Paris again.
_Vizard._ Nothing like an oath in the city.
_Colonel S._ That's a mistake; for my major swore a hundred and fifty
last night to a merchant's wife in her bed-chamber.
_Sir H._ Pshaw! this is trifling; tell me news, gentlemen. What lord has
lately broke his fortune at the clubs, or his heart at Newmarket, for
the loss of a race? What wife has been lately suing in Doctor's-Commons
for alimony: or what daughter run away with her father's valet? What
beau gave the noblest ball at Bath, or had the gayest equipage in town?
I want news, gentlemen.
_Colonel S._ 'Faith, sir, these are no news at all.
_Vizard._ But, pray, Sir Harry, tell us some news of your travels.
_Sir H._ With all my heart.--You must know, then, I went over to
Amsterdam in a Dutch ship. I went from thence to Landen, where I was
heartily drubbed in battle, with the butt end of a Swiss musket. I
thence went to Paris, where I had half a dozen intrigues, bought half a
dozen new suits, fought a couple of duels, and here I am again _in statu
quo_.
_Vizard._ But we heard that you designed to make the tour of Italy: what
brought you back so soon?
_Sir H._ That which brought you into the world, and may perhaps carry
you out of it;--a woman.
_Colonel S._ What! quit the pleasures of travel for a woman?
_Sir H._ Ay, colonel, for such a woman! I had rather see her _ruelle_
than the palace of Louis le Grand. There's more glory in her smile, than
in the jubilee at Rome! and I would rather kiss her hand than the Pope's
toe.
_Vizard._ You, colonel, have been very lavish in the beauty and virtue
of your mistress; and Sir Harry here has been no less eloquent in the
praise of his. Now will I lay you both ten guineas a-piece, that neither
of them is so pretty, so witty, or so virtuous, as mine.
_Colonel S._ 'Tis done.
_Sir H._ I'll double the stakes--But, gentlemen, now I think on't, how
shall we be resolved? For I know not where my mistress may be found; she
left Paris about a month before me, and I had an account----
_Colonel S._ How, sir! left Paris about a month before you?
_Sir H._ Yes, sir, and I had an account that she lodged somewhere in St.
James's.
_Vizard._ How! somewhere in St. James's say you?
_Sir H._ Ay, sir, but I know not where, and perhaps may'nt find her this
fortnight.
_Colonel S._ Her name, pray, Sir Harry?
_Vizard._ Ay, ay, her name; perhaps we know her.
_Sir H._ Her name! Ay, she has the softest, whitest hand that ever was
made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet----
_Colonel S._ But her name, sir?
_Sir H._ Then her neck and----
_Vizard._ But her name, sir? her quality?
_Sir H._ Then her shape, colonel?
_Colonel S._ But her name I want, sir.
_Sir H._ Then her eyes, Vizard!
_Colonel S._ Pshaw, Sir Harry! her name, or nothing!
_Sir H._ Then if you must have it, she's called the Lady----But then
her foot, gentlemen! she dances to a miracle. Vizard, you have certainly
lost your wager.
_Vizard._ Why, you have certainly lost your senses; we shall never
discover the picture, unless you subscribe the name.
_Sir H._ Then her name is Lurewell.
_Colonel S._ 'Sdeath! my mistress! [_Aside._
_Vizard._ My mistress, by Jupiter! [_Aside._
_Sir H._ Do you know her, gentlemen?
_Colonel S._ I have seen her, sir.
_Sir H._ Canst tell where she lodges? Tell me, dear colonel.
_Colonel S._ Your humble servant, sir. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Nay, hold, colonel; I'll follow you, and will know.
[_Runs out._
_Vizard._ The Lady Lurewell his mistress! He loves her: but she loves
me.----But he's a baronet, and I plain Vizard; he has a coach, and I
walk on foot; I was bred in London, and he in Paris.----That very
circumstance has murdered me----Then some stratagem must be laid to
divert his pretensions.
_Enter_ WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ Pr'ythee, Dick, what makes the colonel so out of humour?
_Vizard._ Because he's out of pay, I suppose.
_Sir H._ 'Slife, that's true! I was beginning to mistrust some rivalship
in the case.
_Vizard._ And suppose there were, you know the colonel can fight, Sir
Harry.
_Sir H._ Fight! Pshaw--but he cannot dance, ha!--We contend for a woman,
Vizard. 'Slife, man, if ladies were to be gained by sword and pistol
only, what the devil should all we beaux do?
_Vizard._ I'll try him farther. [_Aside._] But would not you, Sir Harry,
fight for this woman you so much admire?
_Sir H._ Fight! Let me consider. I love her----that's true;----but then
I love honest Sir Harry Wildair better. The Lady Lurewell is divinely
charming----right----but then a thrust i' the guts, or a Middlesex jury,
is as ugly as the devil.
_Vizard._ Ay, Sir Harry, 'twere a dangerous cast for a beau baronet to
be tried by a parcel of greasy, grumbling, bartering boobies, who would
hang you, purely because you're a gentleman.
_Sir H._ Ay, but on t'other hand, I have money enough to bribe the
rogues with: so, upon mature deliberation, I would fight for her. But no
more of her. Pr'ythee, Vizard, cannot you recommend a friend to a pretty
mistress by the bye, till I can find my own? You have store, I'm sure;
you cunning poaching dogs make surer game, than we that hunt open and
fair. Pr'ythee now, good Vizard.
_Vizard._ Let me consider a little.--Now love and revenge inspire my
politics! [_Aside._
[_Pauses whilst_ SIR HARRY _walks, singing_.
_Sir H._ Pshaw! thou'rt longer studying for a new mistress, than a
waiter would be in drawing fifty corks.
_Vizard._ I design you good wine; you'll therefore bear a little
expectation.
_Sir H._ Ha! say'st thou, dear Vizard?
_Vizard._ A girl of nineteen, Sir Harry.
_Sir H._ Now nineteen thousand blessings light on thee.
_Vizard._ Pretty and witty.
_Sir H._ Ay, ay, but her name, Vizard!
_Vizard._ Her name! yes--she has the softest, whitest hand that e'er was
made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet----
_Sir H._ Well, well, but where shall I find her, man?
_Vizard._ Find her!--but then her foot, Sir Harry! she dances to a
miracle.
_Sir H._ Pr'ythee, don't distract me.
_Vizard._ Well then, you must know, that this lady is the greatest
beauty in town; her name's Angelica: she that passes for her mother is
a private bawd, and called the Lady Darling: she goes for a baronet's
lady, (no disparagement to your honour, Sir Harry) I assure you.
_Sir H._ Pshaw, hang my honour! but what street, what house?
_Vizard._ Not so fast, Sir Harry; you must have my passport for your
admittance, and you'll find my recommendation in a line or two will
procure you very civil entertainment; I suppose twenty or thirty pieces
handsomely placed, will gain the point.
_Sir H._ Thou dearest friend to a man in necessity! Here, sirrah, order
my carriage about to St. James's; I'll walk across the park.
[_To his_ SERVANT.
_Enter_ CLINCHER SENIOR.
_Clinch._ Here, sirrah, order my coach about to St. James's, I'll walk
across the park too--Mr. Vizard, your most devoted--Sir, [_To_ WILDAIR.]
I admire the mode of your shoulder-knot; methinks it hangs very
emphatically, and carries an air of travel in it: your sword-knot too
is most ornamentally modish, and bears a foreign mien. Gentlemen, my
brother is just arrived in town; so that, being upon the wing to kiss
his hands, I hope you'll pardon this abrupt departure of, gentlemen,
your most devoted, and most faithful humble servant. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Pr'ythee, dost know him?
_Vizard._ Know him! why, it is Clincher, who was apprentice to my uncle
Smuggler, the merchant in the city.
_Sir H._ What makes him so gay?
_Vizard._ Why, he's in mourning.
_Sir H._ In mourning?
_Vizard._ Yes, for his father. The kind old man in Hertfordshire t'other
day broke his neck a fox-hunting; the son, upon the news, has broke
his indentures; whipped from behind the counter into the side-box. He
keeps his coach and liveries, brace of geldings, leash of mistresses,
talks of nothing but wines, intrigues, plays, fashions, and going to the
jubilee.
_Sir H._ Ha! ha! ha! how many pounds of pulvil must the fellow use in
sweetening himself from the smell of hops and tobacco? Faugh!--I' my
conscience methought, like Olivia's lover, he stunk of Thames-Street.
But now for Angelica, that's her name: we'll to the prince's
chocolate-house, where you shall write my passport. _Allons._
[_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
LADY LUREWELL'S _Lodgings_.
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL, _and her Maid_ PARLY.
_Lady L._ Parly, my pocket-book--let me see--Madrid, Paris, Venice,
London!--Ay, London! They may talk what they will of the hot countries,
but I find love most fruitful under this climate----In a month's space
have I gained--let me see, imprimis, Colonel Standard.
_Parly._ And how will your ladyship manage him?
_Lady L._ As all soldiers should be managed; he shall serve me till I
gain my ends, then I'll disband him.
_Parly._ But he loves you, madam.
_Lady L._ Therefore I scorn him;
I hate all that don't love me, and slight all that do;
'Would his whole deluding sex admir'd me,
Thus would I slight them all.
My virgin and unwary innocence
Was wrong'd by faithless man;
But now, glance eyes, plot brain, dissemble face,
Lie tongue, and
Plague the treacherous kind.----
Let me survey my captives.----
The colonel leads the van; next, Mr. Vizard,
He courts me out of the "Practice of Piety,"
Therefore is a hypocrite;
Then Clincher, he adores me with orangerie,
And is consequently a fool;
Then my old merchant, Alderman Smuggler,
He's a compound of both;--out of which medley of lovers, if I don't make
good diversion----What d'ye think, Parly?
_Parly._ I think, madam, I'm like to be very virtuous in your service,
if you teach me all those tricks that you use to your lovers.
_Lady L._ You're a fool, child; observe this, that though a woman swear,
forswear, lie, dissemble, backbite, be proud, vain, malicious, any
thing, if she secures the main chance, she's still virtuous; that's a
maxim.
_Parly._ I can't be persuaded, though, madam, but that you really loved
Sir Harry Wildair in Paris.
_Lady L._ Of all the lovers I ever had, he was my greatest plague, for I
could never make him uneasy: I left him involved in a duel upon my
account: I long to know whether the fop be killed or not.
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.
Oh lord! no sooner talk of killing, but the soldier is conjured up.
You're upon hard duty, colonel, to serve your king, your country, and a
mistress too.
_Colonel S._ The latter, I must confess, is the hardest; for in war,
madam, we can be relieved in our duty; but in love, he, who would take
our post, is our enemy; emulation in glory is transporting, but rivals
here intolerable.
_Lady L._ Those that bear away the prize in arms, should boast the same
success in love; and, I think, considering the weakness of our sex, we
should make those our companions who can be our champions.
_Colonel S._ I once, madam, hoped the honour of defending you from all
injuries, through a title to your lovely person; but now my love must
attend my fortune. My commission, madam, was my passport to the fair;
adding a nobleness to my passion, it stamped a value on my love; 'twas
once the life of honour, but now its winding sheet; and with it must my
love be buried.
_Parly._ What? disbanded, Colonel?
_Colonel S._ Yes, Mrs. Parly.
_Parly._ Faugh, the nauseous fellow! he stinks of poverty already.
[_Aside._
_Lady L._ His misfortune troubles me, because it may prevent my designs.
[_Aside._
_Colonel S._ I'll chuse, madam, rather to destroy my passion by absence
abroad, than have it starved at home.
_Lady L._ I'm sorry, sir, you have so mean an opinion of my affection,
as to imagine it founded upon your fortune. And, to convince you of your
mistake, here I vow, by all that's sacred, I own the same affection now
as before. Let it suffice, my fortune is considerable.
_Colonel S._ No, madam, no; I'll never be a charge to her I love!
The man, that sells himself for gold, is the worst of prostitutes.
_Lady L._ Now, were he any other creature but a man, I could love him.
[_Aside._
_Colonel S._ This only last request I make, that no title recommend a
fool, no office introduce a knave, nor red coat a coward, to my place
in your affections; so farewell my country, and adieu my love. [_Exit._
_Lady L._ Now the devil take thee for being so honourable: here, Parly,
call him back, I shall lose half my diversion else. Now for a trial of
skill.
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.
Sir, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. When do you take your journey?
_Colonel S._ To-morrow morning, early, madam.
_Lady L._ So suddenly! which way are you designed to travel?
_Colonel S._ That I can't yet resolve on.
_Lady L._ Pray, sir, tell me; pray, sir; I entreat you; why are you so
obstinate?
_Colonel S._ Why are you so curious, madam?
_Lady L._ Because----
_Colonel S._ What?
_Lady L._ Because, I, I----
_Colonel S._ Because, what, madam?--Pray tell me.
_Lady L._ Because I design to follow you. [_Crying._
_Colonel S._ Follow me! By all that's great, I ne'er was proud before.
Follow me! By Heavens thou shalt not. What! expose thee to the hazards
of a camp!--Rather I'll stay, and here bear the contempt of fools, and
worst of fortune.
_Lady L._ You need not, shall not; my estate for both is sufficient.
_Colonel S._ Thy estate! No, I'll turn a knave, and purchase one
myself; I'll cringe to the proud man I undermine; I'll tip my tongue
with flattery, and smooth my face with smiles; I'll turn informer,
office-broker, nay, coward, to be great; and sacrifice it all to thee,
my generous fair.
_Lady L._ And I'll dissemble, lie, swear, jilt, any thing, but I'll
reward thy love, and recompense thy noble passion.
_Colonel S._ Sir Harry, ha! ha! ha! poor Sir Harry, ha! ha! ha! Rather
kiss her hand than the Pope's toe; ha! ha! ha!
_Lady L._ What Sir Harry, Colonel? What Sir Harry?
_Colonel S._ Sir Harry Wildair, madam.
_Lady L._ What! is he come over?
_Colonel S._ Ay, and he told me--but I don't believe a syllable on't----
_Lady L._ What did he tell you?
_Colonel S._ Only called you his mistress; and pretending to be
extravagant in your commendation, would vainly insinuate the praise of
his own judgment and good fortune in a choice.
_Lady L._ How easily is the vanity of fops tickled by our sex!
_Colonel S._ Why, your sex is the vanity of fops.
_Lady L._ On my conscience, I believe so. This gentleman, because he
danced well, I pitched on for a partner at a ball in Paris, and ever
since he has so persecuted me with letters, songs, dances, serenading,
flattery, foppery, and noise, that I was forced to fly the kingdom.
----And I warrant you he made you jealous?
_Colonel S._ 'Faith, madam, I was a little uneasy.
_Lady L._ You shall have a plentiful revenge; I'll send him back all his
foolish letters, songs, and verses, and you yourself shall carry them:
'twill afford you opportunity of triumphing, and free me from his
further impertinence; for of all men he's my aversion. I'll run and
fetch them instantly. [_Exit._
_Colonel S._ Dear madam, a rare project! Now shall I bait him, like
Actæon, with his own dogs.----Well, Mrs. Parly, it is ordered by act of
parliament, that you receive no more pieces, Mrs. Parly.
_Parly._ 'Tis provided by the same act, that you send no more messages
by me, good Colonel; you must not presume to send any more letters,
unless you can pay the postage.
_Colonel S._ Come, come, don't be mercenary; take example by your lady,
be honourable.
_Parly._ A-lack-a-day, sir, it shows as ridiculous and haughty for us to
imitate our betters in their honour, as in their finery; leave honour to
nobility that can support it: we poor folks, Colonel, have no pretence
to't; and truly, I think, sir, that your honour should be cashiered with
your leading-staff.
_Colonel S._ 'Tis one of the greatest curses of poverty to be the jest
of chambermaids!
_Enter_ LUREWELL.
_Lady L._ Here's the packet, Colonel; the whole magazine of love's
artillery. [_Gives him the Packet._
_Colonel S._ Which, since I have gained, I will turn upon the enemy.
Madam, I'll bring you the news of my victory this evening. Poor Sir
Harry, ha! ha! ha! [_Exit._
_Lady L._ To the right about as you were; march, Colonel. Ha! ha! ha!
Vain man, who boasts of studied parts and wiles!
Nature in us, your deepest art beguiles,
Stamping deep cunning in our frowns and smiles.
You toil for art, your intellects you trace;
Woman, without a thought, bears policy in her face. [_Exeunt._
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.
CLINCHER JUNIOR'S _Lodgings_.
_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR, _opening a Letter_; SERVANT _following_.
_Clinch. jun._ [Reads.] _Dear Brother--I will see you presently: I have
sent this lad to wait on you; he can instruct you in the fashions of the
town. I am your affectionate brother_, CLINCHER.
Very well; and what's your name, sir?
_Dicky._ My name is Dicky, sir.
_Clinch. jun._ Dicky!
_Dicky._ Ay, Dicky, sir.
_Clinch. jun._ Very well; a pretty name! And what can you do, Mr. Dicky?
_Dicky._ Why, sir, I can powder a wig, and pick up a whore.
_Clinch. jun._ Oh, lord! Oh, lord! a whore! Why, are there many in this
town?
_Dicky._ Ha! ha! ha! many! there's a question, indeed!----Harkye, sir;
do you see that woman there, in the pink cloak and white feathers.
_Clinch. jun._ Ay, sir! what then?
_Dicky._ Why, she shall be at your service in three minutes, as I'm a
pimp.
_Clinch. jun._ Oh, Jupiter Ammon! Why, she's a gentlewoman.
_Dicky._ A gentlewoman! Why so they are all in town, sir.
_Enter_ CLINCHER _senior_.
_Clinch. sen._ Brother, you're welcome to London.
_Clinch. jun._ I thought, brother, you owed so much to the memory of my
father, as to wear mourning for his death.
_Clinch. sen._ Why, so I do, fool; I wear this, because I have the
estate; and you wear that, because you have not the estate. You have
cause to mourn, indeed, brother. Well, brother, I'm glad to see you;
fare you well. [_Going._
_Clinch. jun._ Stay, stay, brother.----Where are you going?
_Clinch. sen._ How natural 'tis for a country booby to ask impertinent
questions!--Harkye, sir; is not my father dead?
_Clinch. jun._ Ay, ay, to my sorrow.
_Clinch. sen._ No matter for that, he's dead; and am not I a young,
powdered, extravagant English heir?
_Clinch. jun._ Very right, sir.
_Clinch. sen._ Why then, sir, you may be sure that I am going to the
Jubilee, sir.
_Clinch. jun._ Jubilee! What's that?
_Clinch. sen._ Jubilee! Why, the Jubilee is----'Faith I don't know what
it is.
_Dicky._ Why, the Jubilee is the same thing as our Lord Mayor's day in
the city; there will be pageants, and squibs, and raree-shows, and all
that, sir.
_Clinch. jun._ And must you go so soon, brother?
_Clinch. sen._ Yes, sir; for I must stay a month at Amsterdam, to study
poetry.
_Clinch. jun._ Then I suppose, brother, you travel through Muscovy, to
learn fashions; don't you, brother?
_Clinch. sen._ Brother! Pr'ythee, Robin, don't call me brother; sir will
do every jot as well.
_Clinch. jun._ Oh, Jupiter Ammon! why so?
_Clinch. sen._ Because people will imagine you have a spite at me.--But
have you seen your cousin Angelica yet, and her mother, the Lady
Darling?
_Clinch. jun._ No; my dancing-master has not been with me yet. How shall
I salute them, brother?
_Clinch. sen._ Pshaw! that's easy; 'tis only two scrapes, a kiss, and
your humble servant. I'll tell you more when I come from the Jubilee.
Come along. [_Exeunt._
[Illustration: SIR HARRY WILDAIR.--HERE IS A NEST OF THE PRETTIEST
GOLDFINCHES, THAT EVER CHIRPED IN A CAGE. ACT. II. SCENE. II.]
SCENE II.
LADY DARLING'S _House_.
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR _with a Letter_.
_Sir H._ Like light and heat, incorporate we lay;
We bless'd the night, and curs'd the coming day.
Well, if this paper kite flies sure, I'm secure of my game----Humph!--the
prettiest _bourdel_ I have seen; a very stately genteel one----
FOOTMEN _cross the Stage_.
Heyday! equipage too!----'Sdeath, I'm afraid I've mistaken the house!
_Enter_ LADY DARLING.
No, this must be the bawd, by her dignity.
_Lady D._ Your business, pray, sir?
_Sir H._ Pleasure, madam.
_Lady D._ Then, sir, you have no business here.
_Sir H._ This letter, madam, will inform you farther. Mr. Vizard sent
it, with his humble service to your ladyship.
_Lady D._ How does my cousin, sir?
_Sir H._ Ay, her cousin, too! that's right procuress again. [_Aside._
_Lady D._ [Reads.] _Madam----Earnest inclination to serve----Sir
Harry----Madam----court my cousin----Gentleman----fortune_----
_Your ladyships most humble servant_, VIZARD.
Sir, your fortune and quality are sufficient to recommend you any where;
but what goes farther with me is the recommendation of so sober and
pious a young gentleman as my cousin Vizard.
_Sir H._ A right sanctified bawd o' my word! [_Aside._
_Lady D._ Sir Harry, your conversation with Mr. Vizard argues you a
gentleman, free from the loose and vicious carriage of the town. I shall
therefore call my daughter. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Now go thy way for an illustrious bawd of Babylon:--she dresses
up a sin so religiously, that the devil would hardly know it of his
making.
_Enter_ LADY DARLING _with_ ANGELICA.
_Lady D._ Pray, daughter, use him civilly; such matches don't offer
every day. [_Exit_ LADY DARL.
_Sir H._ Oh, all ye powers of love! an angel!--'Sdeath, what money have
I got in my pocket? I can't offer her less than twenty guineas----and,
by Jupiter, she's worth a hundred.
_Ang._ 'Tis he! the very same! and his person as agreeable as his
character of good humour.----Pray Heaven his silence proceed from
respect!
_Sir H._ How innocent she looks! How would that modesty adorn virtue,
when it makes even vice look so charming!----By Heaven, there's such a
commanding innocence in her looks, that I dare not ask the question!
_Ang._ Now, all the charms of real love and feigned indifference assist
me to engage his heart; for mine is lost already.
_Sir H._ Madam--I--I----Zouns, I cannot speak to her!--Oh, hypocrisy!
hypocrisy! what a charming sin art thou!
_Ang._ He is caught; now to secure my conquest--I thought, sir, you had
business to communicate.
_Sir H._ Business to communicate! How nicely she words it!----Yes,
madam, I have a little business to communicate. Don't you love
singing-birds, madam?
_Ang._ That's an odd question for a lover--Yes, sir.
_Sir H._ Why, then, madam, here's a nest of the prettiest goldfinches
that ever chirp'd in a cage; twenty young ones, I assure you, madam.
_Ang._ Twenty young ones! What then, sir?
_Sir H._ Why then, madam, there are----twenty young ones----'Slife, I
think twenty is pretty fair.
_Ang._ He's mad, sure!----Sir Harry, when you have learned more wit and
manners, you shall be welcome here again. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Wit and manners! 'Egad, now, I conceive there is a great deal
of wit and manners in twenty guineas--I'm sure 'tis all the wit and
manners I have about me at present. What shall I do?
_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR _and_ DICKY.
What the devil's here? Another cousin, I warrant ye!--Harkye, sir, can
you lend me ten or a dozen guineas instantly? I'll pay you fifteen for
them in three hours, upon my honour.
_Clinch. jun._ These London sparks are plaguy impudent! This fellow, by
his assurance, can be no less than a courtier.
_Dicky._ He's rather a courtier by his borrowing.
_Clinch. jun._ 'Faith, sir, I han't above five guineas about me.
_Sir H._ What business have you here then, sir?--For, to my knowledge,
twenty won't be sufficient.
_Clinch. jun._ Sufficient! for what, sir?
_Sir H._ What, sir! Why, for that, sir; what the devil should it be,
sir? I know your business, notwithstanding all your gravity, sir.
_Clinch. jun._ My business! Why, my cousin lives here.
_Sir H._ I know your cousin does live here, and Vizard's cousin, and
every body's cousin----Harkye, sir, I shall return immediately; and if
you offer to touch her till I come back, I shall cut your throat,
rascal. [_Exit._
_Clinch. jun._ Why, the man's mad, sure!
_Dicky._ Mad, sir! Ay----Why, he's a beau.
_Clinch. jun._ A beau! What's that? Are all madmen
beaux?
_Dicky._ No, sir; but most beaux are madmen.--But now for your cousin.
Remember your three scrapes, a kiss, and your humble servant. [_Exeunt._
SCENE III.
_A Street._
_Enter_ SIR HARRY WILDAIR, COLONEL STANDARD _following_.
_Colonel S._ Sir Harry! Sir Harry!
_Sir H._ I am in haste, Colonel; besides, if you're in no better humour
than when I parted with you in the park this morning, your company won't
be very agreeable.
_Colonel S._ You're a happy man, Sir Harry, who are never out of humour.
Can nothing move your gall, Sir Harry?
_Sir H._ Nothing but impossibilities, which are the same as nothing.
_Colonel S._ What impossibilities?
_Sir H._ The resurrection of my father to disinherit me, or an act of
parliament against wenching. A man of eight thousand pounds _per annum_
to be vexed! No, no; anger and spleen are companions for younger
brothers.
_Colonel S._ Suppose one called you a son of a whore behind your back.
_Sir H._ Why, then would I call him rascal behind his back; so we're
even.
_Colonel S._ But suppose you had lost a mistress.
_Sir H._ Why, then I would get another.
_Colonel S._ But suppose you were discarded by the woman you love; that
would surely trouble you.
_Sir H._ You're mistaken, Colonel; my love is neither romantically
honourable, nor meanly mercenary; 'tis only a pitch of gratitude: while
she loves me, I love her; when she desists, the obligation's void.
_Colonel S._ But to be mistaken in your opinion, sir; if the Lady
Lurewell (only suppose it) had discarded you--I say, only suppose
it----and had sent your discharge by me.
_Sir H._ Pshaw! that's another impossibility.
_Colonel S._ Are you sure of that?
_Sir H._ Why, 'twere a solecism in nature. Why, we are finger and glove,
sir. She dances with me, sings with me, plays with me, swears with me,
lies with me.
_Colonel S._ How, sir?
_Sir H._ I mean in an honourable way; that is, she lies for me. In
short, we are as like one another as a couple of guineas.
_Colonel S._ Now that I have raised you to the highest pinnacle of
vanity, will I give you so mortifying a fall, as shall dash your hopes
to pieces.--I pray your honour to peruse these papers.
[_Gives him the Packet._
_Sir H._ What is't, the muster-roll of your regiment, colonel?
_Colonel S._ No, no, 'tis a list of your forces in your last love
campaign; and, for your comfort, all disbanded.
_Sir H._ Pr'ythee, good metaphorical colonel, what d'ye mean?
_Colonel S._ Read, sir, read; these are the Sibyl's leaves, that will
unfold your destiny.
_Sir H._ So it be not a false deed to cheat me of my estate, what care
I--[_Opening the Packet._] Humph! my hand!--_To the Lady Lurewell_--_To
the Lady Lurewell_--_To the Lady Lurewell_--What the devil hast thou
been tampering with, to conjure up these spirits?
_Colonel S._ A certain familiar of your acquaintance, sir. Read, read.
_Sir H._ [Reading.] _Madam, my passion----so natural----your beauty
contending----force of charms----mankind----eternal admirer_, WILDAIR.
--I ne'er was ashamed of my name before.
_Colonel S._ What, Sir Harry Wildair out of humour! ha! ha! ha! Poor Sir
Harry! More glory in her smile than in the Jubilee at Rome; ha! ha! ha!
But then her foot, Sir Harry; she dances to a miracle! ha! ha! ha! Fie,
Sir Harry; a man of your parts write letters not worth keeping!
_Sir H._ Now, why should I be angry that a woman is a woman? Since
inconstancy and falsehood are grounded in their natures, how can they
help it?--Here's a copy of verses too: I must turn poet, in the devil's
name--Stay--'Sdeath, what's here?--This is her hand----Oh, the charming
characters!--[Reading.]--_My dear Wildair_,--That's I, 'egad!--_This
huff-bluff Colonel_--that's he--_is the rarest fool in nature_--the
devil he is!--_and as such have I used him_.--With all my heart,
'faith!--_I had no better way of letting you know that I lodge in Pall
Mall_--LUREWELL.----Colonel, I am your most humble servant.
_Colonel S._ Hold, sir, you shan't go yet; I ha'n't delivered half my
message.
_Sir H._ Upon my faith, but you have, colonel.
_Colonel S._ Well, well, own your spleen; out with it; I know you're
like to burst.
_Sir H._ I am so, 'egad; ha! ha! ha! [_Laugh and point at one another._
_Colonel S._ Ay, with all my heart; ha! ha! Well, well, that's forced,
Sir Harry.
_Sir H._ I was never better pleased in all my life, by Jupiter.
_Colonel S._ Well, Sir Harry, 'tis prudence to hide your concern, when
there's no help for it. But, to be serious, now; the lady has sent you
back all your papers there----I was so just as not to look upon them.
_Sir H._ I'm glad on't, sir; for there were some things that I would not
have you see.
_Colonel S._ All this she has done for my sake; and I desire you would
decline any further pretensions for your own sake. So, honest,
goodnatured Sir Harry, I'm your humble servant. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Ha! ha! ha! poor colonel! Oh, the delight of an ingenious
mistress! what a life and briskness it adds to an amour.--A legerdemain
mistress, who, _presto_! _pass_! and she's vanished; then _hey_! in an
instant in your arms again. [_Going._
_Enter_ VIZARD.
_Vizard._ Well met, Sir Harry--what news from the island of love?
_Sir H._ 'Faith, we made but a broken voyage by your chart; but now I am
bound for another port: I told you the colonel was my rival.
_Vizard._ The colonel--curs'd misfortune! another. [_Aside._
_Sir H._ But the civilest in the world; he brought me word where my
mistress lodges. The story's too long to tell you now, for I must fly.
_Vizard._ What, have you given over all thoughts of Angelica?
_Sir H._ No, no; I'll think of her some other time. But now for the Lady
Lurewell. Wit and beauty calls.
That mistress ne'er can pall her lover's joys,
Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys.
Her little amorous frauds all truths excel,
And make us happy, being deceived so well. [_Exit._
_Vizard._ The colonel my rival too!----How shall I manage? There is but
one way----him and the knight will I set a tilting, where one cuts
t'other's throat, and the survivor's hanged: so there will be two rivals
pretty decently disposed of. [_Exit._
SCENE IV.
LADY LUREWELL'S _Lodgings_.
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL _and_ PARLY.
_Lady L._ Has my servant brought me the money from my merchant?
_Parly._ No, madam: he met Alderman Smuggler at Charing-Cross, who has
promised to wait on you himself immediately.
_Lady L._ 'Tis odd that this old rogue should pretend to love me, and at
the same time cheat me of my money.
_Parly._ 'Tis well, madam, if he don't cheat you of your estate; for
you say the writings are in his hands.
_Lady L._ But what satisfaction can I get of him?----Oh! here he comes!
_Enter_ SMUGGLER.
Mr. Alderman, your servant; have you brought me any money, sir?
_Smug._ 'Faith, madam, trading is very dead; what with paying the taxes,
losses at sea abroad, and maintaining our wives at home, the bank is
reduced very low; money is very scarce.
_Lady L._ Come, come, sir; these evasions won't serve your turn: I must
have money, sir--I hope you don't design to cheat me?
_Smug._ Cheat you, madam! have a care what you say: I'm an alderman,
madam----Cheat you, madam! I have been an honest citizen these
five-and-thirty years.
_Lady L._ An honest citizen! Bear witness, Parly--I shall trap him in
more lies presently. Come, sir, though I am a woman, I can take a
remedy.
_Smug._ What remedy, madam? You'll go to law, will ye? I can maintain a
suit of law, be it right or wrong, these forty years--thanks to the
honest practice of the courts.
_Lady L._ Sir, I'll blast your reputation, and so ruin your credit.
_Smug._ Blast my reputation! he! he! he! Why, I'm a religious man,
madam; I have been very instrumental in the reformation of manners. Ruin
my credit! Ah, poor woman! There is but one way, madam----you have a
sweet leering eye.
_Lady L._ You instrumental in the reformation?--How?
_Smug._ I whipp'd all the pau-pau women out of the parish--Ah, that
leering eye! Ah, that lip! that lip!
_Lady L._ Here's a religious rogue for you, now!--As I hope to be saved,
I have a good mind to beat the old monster.
_Smug._ Madam, I have brought you about two hundred and fifty guineas (a
great deal of money, as times go) and----
_Lady L._ Come, give 'em me.
_Smug._ Ah, that hand, that hand! that pretty, soft, white----I have
brought it; but the condition of the obligation is such, that whereas
that leering eye, that pouting lip, that pretty soft hand, that--you
understand me; you understand; I'm sure you do, you little rogue----
_Lady L._ Here's a villain, now, so covetous, that he would bribe me
with my own money. I'll be revenged. [_Aside._]--Upon my word, Mr.
Alderman, you make me blush,--what d'ye mean, pray?
_Smug._ See here, madam. [_Pulls his Purse out._]--Buss and guinea! buss
and guinea! buss and guinea!
_Lady L._ Well, Mr. Alderman, you have such pretty winning ways, that I
will--ha! ha! ha!
_Smug._ Will you, indeed, he! he! he! my little cocket? And when, and
where, and how?
_Lady L._ 'Twill be a difficult point, sir, to secure both our honours:
you must therefore be disguised, Mr. Alderman.
_Smug._ Pshaw! no matter; I am an old fornicator; I'm not half so
religious as I seem to be. You little rogue, why I'm disguised as I am;
our sanctity is all outside, all hypocrisy.
_Lady L._ No man is seen to come into this house after dark; you must
therefore sneak in, when 'tis dark, in woman's clothes.
_Smug._ With all my heart----I have a suit on purpose, my little cocket;
I love to be disguised; 'ecod, I make a very handsome woman, 'ecod, I
do.
_Enter_ SERVANT, _who whispers_ LADY LUREWELL.
_Lady L._ Oh, Mr. Alderman, shall I beg you to walk into the next room?
Here are some strangers coming up.
_Smug._ Buss and guinea first--Ah, my little cocket! [_Exit._
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ My life, my soul, my all that Heaven can give!----
_Lady L._ Death's life with thee, without thee death to live. Welcome,
my dear Sir Harry----I see you got my directions.
_Sir H._ Directions! in the most charming manner, thou dear Machiavel of
intrigue.
_Lady L._ Still brisk and airy, I find, Sir Harry.
_Sir H._ The sight of you, madam, exalts my air, and makes joy lighten
in my face.
_Lady L._ I have a thousand questions to ask you, Sir Harry. Why did you
leave France so soon?
_Sir H._ Because, madam, there is no existing where you are not.
_Lady L._ _Oh, monsieur, je vous suis fort obligée_----But, where's the
court now?
_Sir H._ At Marli, madam.
_Lady L._ And where my Count La Valier?
_Sir H._ His body's in the church of Nôtre Dame; I don't know where his
soul is.
_Lady L._ What disease did he die of?
_Sir H._ A duel, madam; I was his doctor.
_Lady L._ How d'ye mean?
_Sir H._ As most doctors do; I kill'd him.
_Lady L._ _En cavalier_, my dear knight-errant--Well, and how, and how:
what intrigues, what gallantries are carrying on in the _beau monde_?
_Sir H._ I should ask you that question, madam, since your ladyship
makes the _beau-monde_ wherever you come.
_Lady L._ Ah, Sir Harry, I've been almost ruined, pestered to death
here, by the incessant attacks of a mighty colonel; he has besieged me.
_Sir H._ I hope your ladyship did not surrender, though.
_Lady L._ No, no; but was forced to capitulate. But since you are come
to raise the siege, we'll dance, and sing, and laugh----
_Sir H._ And love, and kiss----_Montrez moi votre chambre?_
_Lady L._ _Attends, attends, un peu_----I remember, Sir Harry, you
promised me, in Paris, never to ask that impertinent question again.
_Sir H._ Pshaw, madam! that was above two months ago: besides, madam,
treaties made in France are never kept.
_Lady L._ Would you marry me, Sir Harry?
_Sir H._ Oh! I do detest marriage.--But I will marry you.
_Lady L._ Your word, sir, is not to be relied on: if a gentleman will
forfeit his honour in dealings of business, we may reasonably suspect
his fidelity in an amour.
_Sir H._ My honour in dealings of business! Why, madam, I never had any
business in all my life.
_Lady L._ Yes, Sir Harry, I have heard a very odd story, and am sorry
that a gentleman of your figure should undergo the scandal.
_Sir H._ Out with it, madam.
_Lady L._ Why, the merchant, sir, that transmitted your bills of
exchange to you in France, complains of some indirect and dishonourable
dealings.
_Sir H._ Who, old Smuggler?
_Lady L._ Ay, ay, you know him, I find.
_Sir H._ I have some reason, I think; why, the rogue has cheated me of
above five hundred pounds within these three years.
_Lady L._ 'Tis your business then to acquit yourself publicly; for he
spreads the scandal every where.
_Sir H._ Acquit myself publicly! I'll drive instantly into the city,
and cane the old villain: he shall run the gauntlet round the Royal
Exchange.
_Lady L._ Why, he is in the house now, sir.
_Sir H._ What, in this house?
_Lady L._ Ay, in the next room.
_Sir H._ Then, sirrah, lend me your cudgel.
_Lady L._ Sir Harry, you won't raise a disturbance in my house?
_Sir H._ Disturbance, madam! no, no, I'll beat him with the temper of a
philosopher. Here, Mrs. Parly, show me the gentleman.
[_Exit with_ PARLY.
_Lady L._ Now shall I get the old monster well beaten, and Sir Harry
pestered next term with bloodsheds, batteries, costs, and damages,
solicitors and attorneys; and if they don't tease him out of his good
humour, I'll never plot again. [_Exit._
SCENE V.
_Another Room in the same House._
_Enter_ SMUGGLER.
_Smug._ Oh, this damned tide-waiter! A ship and cargo worth five
thousand pounds! Why, 'tis richly worth five hundred perjuries.
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ Dear Mr. Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant.
_Smug._ My best friend, Sir Harry, you're welcome to England.
_Sir H._ I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions
I am gladder to meet, dear, dear Mr. Alderman. [_Bowing very low._
_Smug._ Oh, lord, sir, you travellers have the most obliging ways with
you!
_Sir H._ There is a business, Mr. Alderman, fallen out, which you may
oblige me infinitely by----I am very sorry that I am forced to be
troublesome; but necessity, Mr. Alderman----
_Smug._ Ay, sir, as you say, necessity----But, upon my word, sir, I am
very short of money at present; but----
_Sir H._ That's not the matter, sir; I'm above an obligation that way:
but the business is, I'm reduced to an indispensable necessity of being
obliged to you for a beating----Here, take this cudgel.
_Smug._ A beating, Sir Harry! ha! ha! ha! I beat a knight baronet! an
alderman turn cudgel-player! Ha! ha! ha!
_Sir H._ Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or I cudgel you; take your
choice.
_Smug._ Pshaw! pshaw! you jest.
_Sir H._ Nay, 'tis sure as fate----So, Alderman, I hope you'll pardon my
curiosity. [_Strikes him._
_Smug._ Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir!--What d'ye mean?
_Sir H._ Nothing at all; I'm but in jest, sir.
_Smug._ Oh, I can take any thing in jest! but a man might imagine, by
the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest.
_Sir H._ Not in the least, sir; [_Strikes him._] not in the least,
indeed, sir.
_Smug._ Pray, good sir, no more of your jests; for they are the bluntest
jests that ever I knew.
_Sir H._ [_Strikes._] I heartily beg your pardon, with all my heart,
sir.
_Smug._ Pardon, sir! Well, sir, that is satisfaction enough from a
gentleman. But, seriously, now, if you pass any more of your jests upon
me, I shall grow angry.
_Sir H._ I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more.
[_Strikes him._
_Smug._ Oh, lord, sir, you'll break my bones! Are you mad, sir? Murder,
felony, manslaughter! [SIR HARRY _knocks him down_.
_Sir H._ Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely
compelled to it, upon my honour, sir: nothing can be more averse to my
inclinations, than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging
friend, the Alderman.
[_Striking him all this while_: SMUGGLER _tumbles over and over_.
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL.
_Lady L._ Oh, lord! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old man.
_Smug._ Oh, dear madam, I was beaten in jest, till I am murdered in good
earnest.
_Lady L._ Oh! you barbarous man!--Now the devil take you, Sir Harry, for
not beating him harder--Well, my dear, you shall come at night, and I'll
make you amends. [_Here_ SIR HARRY _takes Snuff_.
_Smug._ Madam, I will have amends before I leave the place----Sir, how
durst you use me thus!
_Sir H._ Sir?
_Smug._ Sir, I say that I will have satisfaction.
_Sir H._ With all my heart. [_Throws Snuff into his Eyes._
_Smug._ Oh, murder! blindness! fire! Oh, madam, madam, get me some
water. Water! fire! fire! water! [_Exit with_ LADY LUREWELL.
_Sir H._ How pleasant is resenting an injury without passion! 'Tis the
beauty of revenge.
No spleen, no trouble, shall my time destroy: Life's but a span, I'll
ev'ry inch enjoy. [_Exit._
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_The Street._
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD _and_ VIZARD.
_Colonel S._ I bring him word where she lodged? I the civilest rival in
the world? 'Tis impossible.
_Vizard._ I shall urge it no farther, sir. I only thought, sir, that my
character in the world might add authority to my words, without so many
repetitions.
_Colonel S._ Pardon me, dear Vizard. Our belief struggles hard, before
it can be brought to yield to the disadvantage of what we love. But what
said Sir Harry?
_Vizard._ He pitied the poor credulous colonel, laughed heartily, flew
away with all the raptures of a bridegroom, repeating these lines:
A mistress ne'er can pall her lover's joys,
Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys.
_Colonel S._ A mistress ne'er can pall! By all my wrongs he whores her,
and I am made their property.----Vengeance----Vizard, you must carry a
note for me to Sir Harry.
_Vizard._ What, a challenge? I hope you don't design to fight?
_Colonel S._ What, wear the livery of my king, and pocket an affront?
'Twere an abuse to his sacred Majesty: a soldier's sword, Vizard, should
start of itself, to redress its master's wrong.
_Vizard._ However, sir, I think it not proper for me to carry any such
message between friends.
_Colonel S._ I have ne'er a servant here; what shall I do?
_Vizard._ There's Tom Errand, the porter, that plies at the Blue Posts,
one who knows Sir Harry and his haunts very well; you may send a note by
him.
_Colonel S._ Here, you, friend.
_Vizard._ I have now some business, and must take my leave; I would
advise you, nevertheless, against this affair.
_Colonel S._ No whispering now, nor telling of friends, to prevent us.
He, that disappoints a man of an honourable revenge, may love him
foolishly like a wife, but never value him as a friend.
_Vizard._ Nay, the devil take him, that parts you, say I. [_Exit._
_Enter_ TOM ERRAND.
_Tom._ Did your honour call porter?
_Colonel S._ Is your name Tom Errand?
_Tom._ People call me so, an't like your worship.
_Colonel S._ D'ye know Sir Harry Wildair?
_Tom._ Ay, very well, sir; he's one of my best masters; many a round
half crown have I had of his worship; he's newly come home from France,
sir.
_Colonel S._ Go to the next coffee-house, and wait for me.----Oh, woman,
woman, how blessed is man, when favoured by your smiles, and how
accursed when all those smiles are found but wanton baits to sooth us to
destruction. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR, _and_ CLINCHER SENIOR, _following_.
_Clinch. sen._ Sir, sir, sir, having some business of importance to
communicate to you, I would beg your attention to a trifling affair,
that I would impart to your understanding.
_Sir H._ What is your trifling business of importance, pray, sweet sir?
_Clinch. sen._ Pray, sir, are the roads deep between this and Paris?
_Sir H._ Why that question, sir?
_Clinch. sen._ Because I design to go to the jubilee, sir. I understand
that you are a traveller, sir; there is an air of travel in the tie of
your cravat, sir: there is indeed, sir----I suppose, sir, you bought
this lace in Flanders.
_Sir H._ No, sir, this lace was made in Norway.
_Clinch. sen._ Norway, sir?
_Sir H._ Yes, sir, of the shavings of deal boards.
_Clinch. sen._ That's very strange now, 'faith--Lace made of the
shavings of deal boards! 'Egad, sir, you travellers see very strange
things abroad, very incredible things abroad, indeed. Well, I'll have a
cravat of the very same lace before I come home.
_Sir H._ But, sir, what preparations have you made for your journey?
_Clinch. sen._ A case of pocket-pistols for the bravos, and a
swimming-girdle.
_Sir H._ Why these, sir?
_Clinch. sen._ Oh, lord, sir, I'll tell you----Suppose us in Rome now;
away goes I to some ball--for I'll be a mighty beau. Then, as I said, I
go to some ball, or some bear-baiting--'tis all one, you know--then
comes a fine Italian _bona roba_, and plucks me by the sleeve: Signior
Angle, Signior Angle--She's a very fine lady, observe that--Signior
Angle, says she--Signiora, says I, and trips after her to the corner of
a street, suppose it Russel Street, here, or any other street: then, you
know, I must invite her to the tavern; I can do no less----There up
comes her bravo; the Italian grows saucy, and I give him an English
dowse on the face: I can box, sir, box tightly; I was a 'prentice,
sir----But then, sir, he whips out his stiletto, and I whips out my
bull-dog--slaps him through, trips down stairs, turns the corner of
Russel Street again, and whips me into the ambassador's train, and there
I'm safe as a beau behind the scenes.
_Sir H._ Is your pistol charged, sir?
_Clinch. sen._ Only a brace of bullets, that's all, sir.
_Sir H._ 'Tis a very fine pistol, truly; pray let me see it.
_Clinch. sen._ With all my heart, sir.
_Sir H._ Harkye, Mr. Jubilee, can you digest a brace of bullets?
_Clinch. sen._ Oh, by no means in the world, sir.
_Sir H._ I'll try the strength of your stomach, however. Sir, you're a
dead man. [_Presenting the Pistol to his Breast._
_Clinch. sen._ Consider, dear sir, I am going to the Jubilee: when I
come home again, I am a dead man at your service.
_Sir H._ Oh, very well, sir; but take heed you are not so choleric for
the future.
_Clinch. sen._ Choleric, sir! Oons, I design to shoot seven Italians in
a week, sir.
_Sir H._ Sir, you won't have provocation.
_Clinch. sen._ Provocation, sir! Zouns, sir, I'll kill any man for
treading upon my corns: and there will be a devilish throng of people
there: they say that all the princes of Italy will be there.
_Sir H._ And all the fops and fiddlers in Europe----But the use of your
swimming girdle, pray sir?
_Clinch. sen._ Oh lord, sir, that's easy. Suppose the ship cast away;
now, whilst, other foolish people are busy at their prayers, I whip on
my swimming girdle, clap a month's provision in my pocket, and sails me
away, like an egg in a duck's belly. Well, sir, you must pardon me now,
I'm going to see my mistress. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ This fellow's an accomplished ass before he goes abroad. Well,
this Angelica has got into my heart, and I cannot get her out of my
head. I must pay her t'other visit. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
LADY DARLING'S _House_.
_Enter_ ANGELICA, LADY DARLING, CLINCHER JUNIOR, _and_ DICKY.
_Lady D._ This is my daughter, cousin.
_Dicky._ Now sir, remember your three scrapes.
_Clinch. jun._ [_Saluting_ ANGELICA.] One, two, three, your humble
servant. Was not that right, Dicky?
_Dicky._ Ay, 'faith, sir; but why don't you speak to her?
_Clinch. jun._ I beg your pardon, Dicky; I know my distance. Would you
have me to speak to a lady at the first sight?
_Dicky._ Ay sir, by all means; the first aim is the surest.
_Clinch. jun._ Now for a good jest, to make her laugh heartily----By
Jupiter Ammon, I'll give her a kiss. [_Goes towards her._
_Enter_ WILDAIR, _interposing_.
_Sir H._ 'Tis all to no purpose; I told you so before; your pitiful five
guineas will never do. You may go; I'll outbid you.
_Clinch. jun._ What the devil! the madman's here again.
_Lady D._ Bless me, cousin, what d'ye mean? Affront a gentleman of his
quality in my house?
_Clinch. jun._ Quality!--Why, madam, I don't know what you mean by your
madmen, and your beaux, and your quality----they're all alike, I
believe.
_Lady D._ Pray, sir, walk with me into the next room.
[_Exit_ LADY DARLING, _leading_ CLINCHER, DICKY _following_.
_Ang._ Sir, if your conversation be no more agreeable than 'twas the
last time, I would advise you to make your visit as short as you can.
_Sir H._ The offences of my last visit, madam, bore their punishment in
the commission; and have made me as uneasy till I receive pardon, as
your ladyship can be till I sue for it.
_Ang._ Sir Harry, I did not well understand the offence, and must
therefore proportion it to the greatness of your apology; if you would,
therefore, have me think it light, take no great pains in an excuse.
_Sir H._ How sweet must the lips be that guard that tongue! Then, madam,
no more of past offences; let us prepare for joys to come. Let this seal
my pardon. [_Kisses her Hand._
_Ang._ Hold, sir: one question, Sir Harry, and pray answer plainly--D'ye
love me?
_Sir H._ Love you! Does fire ascend? Do hypocrites dissemble? Usurers
love gold, or great men flattery? Doubt these, then question that I
love.
_Ang._ This shows your gallantry, sir, but not your love.
_Sir H._ View your own charms, madam, then judge my passion.
_Ang._ If your words be real, 'tis in your power to raise an equal flame
in me.
_Sir H._ Nay, then, I seize----
_Ang._ Hold, sir; 'tis also possible to make me detest and scorn you
worse than the most profligate of your deceiving sex.
_Sir H._ Ha! a very odd turn this. I hope, madam, you only affect anger,
because you know your frowns are becoming.
_Ang._ Sir Harry, you being the best judge of your own designs, can best
understand whether my anger should be real or dissembled; think what
strict modesty should bear, then judge of my resentment.
_Sir H._ Strict modesty should bear! Why, 'faith, madam, I believe, the
strictest modesty may bear fifty guineas, and I don't believe 'twill
bear one farthing more.
_Ang._ What d'ye mean, sir?
_Sir H._ Nay, madam, what do you mean? If you go to that. I think now,
fifty guineas is a fine offer for your strict modesty, as you call it.
_Ang._ I'm afraid you're mad, sir.
_Sir H._ Why, madam, you're enough to make any man mad. 'Sdeath, are you
not a----
_Ang._ What, sir?
_Sir H._ Why, a lady of--strict modesty, if you will have it so.
_Ang._ I shall never hereafter trust common report, which represented
you, sir, a man of honour, wit, and breeding; for I find you very
deficient in them all three. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Now I find, that the strict pretences, which the ladies of
pleasure make to strict modesty, is the reason why those of quality are
ashamed to wear it.
_Enter_ VIZARD.
_Vizard._ Ah! Sir Harry, have I caught you? Well, and what success?
_Sir H._ Success! 'Tis a shame for you young fellows in town here, to
let the wenches grow so saucy. I offered her fifty guineas, and she was
in her airs presently, and flew away in a huff. I could have had a brace
of countesses in Paris for half the money, and _je vous remercie_ into
the bargain.
_Vizard._ Gone in her airs, say you! and did not you follow her?
_Sir H._ Whither should I follow her?
_Vizard._ Into her bedchamber, man; she went on purpose. You a man of
gallantry, and not understand that a lady's best pleased when she puts
on her airs, as you call it!
_Sir H._ She talked to me of strict modesty, and stuff.
_Vizard._ Certainly. Most women magnify their modesty, for the same
reason that cowards boast their courage--because they have least on't.
Come, come, Sir Harry, when you make your next assault, encourage your
spirits with brisk Burgundy: if you succeed, 'tis well; if not, you have
a fair excuse for your rudeness. I'll go in, and make your peace for
what's past. Oh, I had almost forgot----Colonel Standard wants to speak
with you about some business.
_Sir H._ I'll wait upon him presently; d'ye know where he may be found?
_Vizard._ In the piazza of Covent Garden, about an hour hence, I
promised to see him: and there you may meet him--to have your throat
cut. [_Aside._] I'll go in and intercede for you.
_Sir H._ But no foul play with the lady, Vizard. [_Exit._
_Vizard._ No fair play, I can assure you. [_Exit._
SCENE III.
_The Street before_ LADY LUREWELL'S _Lodgings_.
CLINCHER SENIOR, _and_ LUREWELL, _coquetting in the Balcony_.--_Enter_
STANDARD.
_Colonel S._ How weak is reason in disputes of love! I've heard her
falsehood with such pressing proofs, that I no longer should distrust
it. Yet still my love would baffle demonstration, and make
impossibilities seem probable. [_Looks up._] Ha! That fool too! What,
stoop so low as that animal?--'Tis true, women once fallen, like cowards
in despair, will stick at nothing; there's no medium in their actions.
They must be bright as angels, or black as fiends. But now for my
revenge; I'll kick her cully before her face, call her whore, curse the
whole sex, and leave her. [_Goes in._
SCENE IV.
_A Dining Room._
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL _and_ CLINCHER SENIOR.
_Lady L._ Oh lord, sir, it is my husband! What will become of you?
_Clinch. sen._ Ah, your husband! Oh, I shall be murdered! What shall I
do? Where shall I run? I'll creep into an oven--I'll climb up the
chimney--I'll fly--I'll swim;----I wish to the lord I were at the
Jubilee now.
_Lady L._ Can't you think of any thing, sir?
_Clinch. sen._ Think! not I; I never could think to any purpose in my
life.
_Lady L._ What do you want, sir?
_Enter_ TOM ERRAND.
_Tom._ Madam, I am looking for Sir Harry Wildair; I saw him come in here
this morning; and did imagine he might be here still, if he is not gone.
_Lady L._ A lucky hit! Here, friend, change clothes with this gentleman,
quickly, strip.
_Clinch. sen._ Ay, ay, quickly strip; I'll give you half a crown to
boot. Come here; so. [_They change Clothes._
_Lady L._ Now slip you [_To_ CLINCH. SENIOR.] down stairs, and wait at
the door till my husband be gone; and get you in there [_To_ TOM
ERRAND.] till I call you. [_Puts_ ERRAND _in the next Room_.
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.
Oh, sir, are you come? I wonder, sir, how you have the confidence to
approach me, after so base a trick.
_Colonel S._ Oh, madam, all your artifices won't avail.
_Lady L._ Nay, sir, your artifices won't avail. I thought, sir, that I
gave you caution enough against troubling me with Sir Harry Wildair's
company, when I sent his letters back by you; yet you, forsooth, must
tell him where I lodged, and expose me again to his impertinent
courtship!
_Colonel S._ I expose you to his courtship!
_Lady L._ I'll lay my life you'll deny it now. Come, come, sir: a
pitiful lie is as scandalous to a red coat, as an oath to a black.
_Colonel S._ You're all lies; first, your heart is false; your eyes are
double; one look belies another; and then your tongue does contradict
them all--Madam, I see a little devil just now hammering out a lie in
your pericranium.
_Lady L._ As I hope for mercy, he's in the right on't. [_Aside._
_Colonel. S._ Yes, yes, madam, I exposed you to the courtship of your
fool Clincher, too; I hope your female wiles will impose that upon
me----also----
_Lady L._ Clincher! Nay, now you're stark mad. I know no such person.
_Colonel S._ Oh, woman in perfection! not know him! 'Slife, madam, can
my eyes, my piercing jealous eyes, be so deluded? Nay, madam, my nose
could not mistake him; for I smelt the fop by his pulvilio, from the
balcony down to the street.
_Lady L._ The balcony! ha! ha! ha! the balcony! I'll be hanged but he
has mistaken Sir Harry Wildair's footman, with a new French livery, for
a beau.
_Colonel S._ 'Sdeath, madam! what is there in me that looks like a
cully? Did I not see him?
_Lady L._ No, no, you could not see him; you're dreaming, colonel. Will
you believe your eyes, now that I have rubbed them open?--Here, you
friend.
_Enter_ TOM ERRAND, _in_ CLINCHER SENIOR'S _Clothes_.
_Colonel S._ This is illusion all; my eyes conspire against themselves.
Tis legerdemain.
_Lady L._ Legerdemain! Is that all your acknowledgment for your rude
behaviour?--Oh, what a curse is it to love as I do!--Begone sir, [_To_
TOM ERRAND.] to your impertinent master, and tell him I shall never be
at leisure to receive any of his troublesome visits.--Send to me to know
when I should be at home!--Begone, sir. [_Exit_ TOM ERRAND.] I am sure
he has made me an unfortunate woman. [_Weeps._
_Colonel S._ Nay, then there is no certainty in nature; and truth is
only falsehood well disguised.
_Lady L._ Sir, had not I owned my fond, foolish passion, I should not
have been subject to such unjust suspicions: but it is an ungrateful
return. [_Weeping._
_Colonel S._ Now, where are all my firm resolves? I hope, madam, you'll
pardon me, since jealousy, that magnified my suspicion, is as much the
effect of love, as my easiness in being satisfied.
_Lady L._ Easiness in being satisfied! No, no, sir; cherish your
suspicions, and feed upon your jealousy: 'tis fit meat for your
squeamish stomach.
With me all women should this rule pursue: Who think us false, should
never find us true. [_Exit in a Rage._
_Enter_ CLINCHER SENIOR _in_ TOM ERRAND'S _Clothes_.
_Clinch. sen._ Well, intriguing is the prettiest, pleasantest thing for
a man of my parts.--How shall we laugh at the husband, when he is
gone?--How sillily he looks! He's in labour of horns already.--To make a
colonel a cuckold! 'Twill be rare news for the alderman.
_Colonel S._ All this Sir Harry has occasioned; but he's brave, and will
afford me a just revenge.--Oh, this is the porter I sent the challenge
by----Well sir, have you found him?
_Clinch. sen._ What the devil does he mean now?
_Colonel S._ Have you given Sir Harry the note, fellow?
_Clinch. sen._ The note! what note?
_Colonel S._ The letter, blockhead, which I sent by you to Sir Harry
Wildair; have you seen him?
_Clinch. sen._ Oh, lord, what shall I say now? Seen him? Yes, sir--no,
sir.--I have, sir--I have not, sir.
_Colonel S._ The fellow's mad. Answer me directly, sirrah, or I'll break
your head.
_Clinch. sen._ I know Sir Harry very well, sir; but as to the note,
sir, I can't remember a word on't: truth is, I have a very bad memory.
_Colonel S._ Oh, sir, I'll quicken your memory. [_Strikes him._
_Clinch. sen._ Zouns, sir, hold!--I did give him the note.
_Colonel S._ And what answer?
_Clinch. sen._ I mean, I did not give him the note.
_Colonel S._ What, d'ye banter, rascal? [_Strikes him again._
_Clinch. sen._ Hold, sir, hold! He did send an answer.
_Colonel S._ What was't, villain?
_Clinch. sen._ Why, truly sir, I have forgot it: I told you that I had a
very treacherous memory.
_Colonel S._ I'll engage you shall remember me this month, rascal.
[_Beats him, and exit._
_Enter_ LUREWELL _and_ PARLY.
_Lady L._ Oh, my poor gentleman! and was it beaten?
_Clinch. sen._ Yes, I have been beaten. But where's my clothes? my
clothes?
_Lady L._ What, you won't leave me so soon, my dear, will ye?
_Clinch. sen._ Will ye!--If ever I peep into the colonel's tent again,
may I be forced to run the gauntlet. But my clothes, madam.
_Lady L._ I sent the porter down stairs with them: did not you meet him?
_Clinch. sen._ Meet him? No, not I.
_Parly._ No! He went out at the back door, and is run clear away, I'm
afraid.
_Clinch. sen._ Gone, say you, and with my clothes, my fine Jubilee
clothes?--Oh, the rogue, the thief!--I'll have him hang'd for
murder--But how shall I get home in this pickle?
_Parly._ I'm afraid, sir, the colonel will be back presently, for he
dines at home.
_Clinch. sen._ Oh, then I must sneak off. Was ever such an unfortunate
beau, To have his coat well thrash'd, and lose his coat also! [_Exit._
_Parly._ Methinks, madam, the injuries you have suffered by men must be
very great, to raise such heavy resentments against the whole sex;--and,
I think, madam, your anger should be only confined to the author of your
wrongs.
_Lady L._ The author! alas, I know him not.
_Parly._ Not know him? Tis odd, madam, that a man should rob you of that
same jewel, and you not know him.
_Lady L._ Leave trifling: 'tis a subject that always sours my temper:
but since, by thy faithful service, I have some reason to confide in
your secresy, hear the strange relation.--Some twelve years ago, I lived
at my father's house in Oxfordshire, blest with innocence, the
ornamental, but weak guard of blooming beauty. Then it happened that
three young gentlemen from the university coming into the country, and
being benighted, and strangers, called at my father's: he was very glad
of their company, and offered them the entertainment of his house.
_Parly._ Which they accepted, no doubt. Oh, these strolling collegians
are never abroad, but upon some mischief.
_Lady L._ Two of them had a heavy, pedantic air: but the third----
_Parly._ Ah, the third, madam--the third of all things, they say, is
very critical.
_Lady L._ He was--but in short, nature formed him for my undoing. His
very looks were witty, and his expressive eyes spoke softer, prettier
things, than words could frame.
_Parly._ There will be mischief by and by; I never heard a woman talk
so much of eyes, but there were tears presently after.
_Lady L._ My father was so well pleased with his conversation, that he
begged their company next day; they consented, and next night, Parly----
_Parly._ Ah, next night, madam----next night (I'm afraid) was a night
indeed.
_Lady L._ He bribed my maid, with his gold, out of her modesty; and me,
with his rhetoric, out of my honour. [_Weeps._] He swore that he would
come down from Oxford in a fortnight, and marry me.
_Parly._ The old bait, the old bait--I was cheated just so myself.
[_Aside._] But had not you the wit to know his name all this while?
_Lady L._ He told me that he was under an obligation to his companions,
of concealing himself then, but, that he would write to me in two days,
and let me know his name and quality. After all the binding oaths of
constancy, I gave him a ring with this motto--"_Love and Honour_"--then
we parted, and I never saw the dear deceiver more.
_Parly._ No, nor never will, I warrant you.
_Lady L._ I need not tell my griefs, which my father's death made a fair
pretence for; he left me sole heiress and executrix to three thousand
pounds a year: at last, my love for this single dissembler turned to a
hatred of the whole sex; and, resolving to divert my melancholy, I
went to travel. Here I will play my last scene; then retire to my
country-house, and live solitary. We shall have that old impotent
lecher, Smuggler, here to-night; I have a plot to swinge him, and his
precise nephew, Vizard.
_Parly._ I think, madam, you manage every body that comes in your way.
_Lady L._ No, Parly; those men, whose pretensions I found just and
honourable, I fairly dismissed, by letting them know my firm resolutions
never to marry, But those villains, that would attempt my honour, I've
seldom failed to manage.
_Parly._ What d'ye think of the colonel, madam? I suppose his designs
are honourable.
_Lady L._ That man's a riddle; there's something of honour in his temper
that pleases; I'm sure he loves me too, because he's soon jealous, and
soon satisfied.--But hang him, I have teased him enough--Besides, Parly,
I begin to be tired of my revenge: but this buss and guinea I must maul
once more. I'll hansel his woman's clothes for him. Go, get me pen and
ink; I must write to Vizard too.
Fortune, this once assist me as before: Two such machines can never work
in vain, As thy propitious wheel, and my projecting brain. [_Exeunt._
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
_Covent Garden._
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR _and_ COLONEL STANDARD, _meeting_.
_Colonel S._ I thought, Sir Harry, to have met you ere this in a more
convenient place; but since my wrongs were without ceremony, my revenge
shall be so too.--Draw, sir.
_Sir H._ Draw, sir! What shall I draw?
_Colonel S._ Come, come, sir, I like your facetious humour well enough;
it shows courage and unconcern. I know you brave, and therefore use you
thus. Draw your sword.
_Sir H._ Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but the devil take me if I
fight.--Perhaps, colonel, this is the prettiest blade you have seen.
_Colonel S._ I doubt not but the arm is good; and therefore think both
worth my resentment. Come, sir.
_Sir H._ But, pr'ythee, colonel, dost think that I am such a madman, as
to send my soul to the devil and body to the worms--upon every fool's
errand? [_Aside._
_Colonel S._ I hope you're no coward, sir.
_Sir H._ Coward, sir! I have eight thousand pounds a year, sir.
_Colonel S._ You fought in the army, to my knowledge.
_Sir H._ Ay, for the same reason that I wore a red coat; because 'twas
fashionable.
_Colonel S._ Sir, you fought a French count in Paris.
_Sir H._ True, sir, he was a beau, like myself. Now you're a soldier,
colonel, and fighting's your trade; and I think it downright madness to
contend with any man in his profession.
_Colonel S._ Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall take very unseemly
methods, if you don't show yourself a gentleman.
_Sir H._ A gentleman! Why, there again, now. A gentleman! I tell you
once more, colonel, that I am a baronet, and have eight thousand pounds
a year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand the languages--Now I
can't conceive how running you through the body should contribute one
jot more to my gentility. But pray, colonel, I had forgot to ask you,
what's the quarrel?
_Colonel S._ A woman, sir.
_Sir H._ Then I put up my sword. Take her.
_Colonel S._ Sir, my honour's concerned.
_Sir H._ Nay, if your honour be concerned with a woman, get it out of
her hands as soon as you can.--An honourable lover is the greatest slave
in nature: some will say, the greatest fool. Come, come, colonel, this
is something about the Lady Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you
satisfaction in that affair.
_Colonel S._ Do so then immediately.
_Sir H._ Put up your sword first; you know I dare fight, but I had much
rather make you a friend than an enemy. I can assure you this lady will
prove too hard for one of your temper. You have too much honour, too
much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies.
_Colonel S._ I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement.
_Sir H._ A man can never hear reason with his sword in his hand. Sheath
your weapon; and then, if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body.
_Colonel S._ Give me but demonstration of her granting you any favour,
and it is enough.
_Sir H._ Will you take my word?
_Colonel S._ Pardon me, sir, I cannot.
_Sir H._ Will you believe your own eyes?
_Colonel S._ 'Tis ten to one whether I shall or no; they have deceived
me already.
_Sir H._ That's hard--but some means I shall devise for your
satisfaction--[_Noise._]--We must fly this place, else that cluster of
mob will overwhelm us. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ MOB, TOM ERRAND'S _Wife hurrying in_ CLINCHER SENIOR _in_
ERRAND'S _Clothes_.
_Wife._ Oh! the villain, the rogue, he has murdered my husband. Ah, my
poor Timothy! [_Crying._
_Clinch. sen._ Dem your Timothy!--your husband has murdered me, woman;
for he has carried away my fine Jubilee clothes.
_Mob._ Away with him----away with him to the Thames.
_Clinch. sen._ Oh, if I had but my swimming girdle now!
_Enter_ CONSTABLE.
_Const._ Hold, neighbours, I command the peace.
_Wife._ Oh, Mr. Constable, here's a rogue that has murdered my husband,
and robbed him of his clothes.
_Const._ Murder and robbery!--Then he must be a gentleman.----Hands off
there; he must not be abused.----Give an account of yourself. Are you a
gentleman?
_Clinch. sen._ No, sir, I'm a beau.
_Const._ A beau--Then you have killed nobody, I'm persuaded. How came
you by these clothes, sir?
_Clinch. sen._ You must know, sir, that walking along, sir, I don't know
how, sir, I can't tell where, sir,--and so the porter and I changed
clothes, sir.
_Const._ Very well. The man speaks reason, and like a gentleman.
_Wife._ But pray, Mr. Constable, ask him how he changed clothes with
him.
_Const._ Silence, woman, and don't disturb the court. Well, sir, how did
you change clothes?
_Clinch. sen._ Why, sir, he pulled off my coat, and I drew off his: so I
put on his coat, and he put on mine.
_Const._ Why, neighbour, I don't find that he's guilty: search him--and
if he carries no arms about him, we'll let him go.
[_They search his Pockets, and pull out his Pistols._
_Clinch. sen._ Oh, gemini! My Jubilee pistols!
_Const._ What, a case of pistols! Then the case is plain. Speak, what
are you, sir? Whence came you, and whither go you?
_Clinch. sen._ Sir, I came from Russel Street, and am going to the
Jubilee.
_Wife._ You shall go the gallows, you rogue.
_Const._ Away with him, away with him to Newgate, straight.
_Clinch. sen._ I shall go to the Jubilee now, indeed.
_Enter_ SIR. H. WILDAIR _and_ COLONEL STANDARD.
_Sir H._ In short, colonel, 'tis all nonsense--fight for a woman! Hard
by is the lady's house, if you please, we'll wait on her together: you
shall draw your sword--I'll draw my snuff-box: you shall produce your
wounds received in war--I'll relate mine by Cupid's dart: you shall
swear--I'll sigh: you shall sa, sa, and I'll coupée; and if she flies
not to my arms, like a hawk to its perch, my dancing-master deserves to
be damned.
_Colonel S._ With the generality of women, I grant you, these arts may
prevail.
_Sir H._ Generality of women! Why there again, you're out. They're all
alike, sir: I never heard of any one that was particular, but one.
_Colonel S._ Who was she, pray?
_Sir H._ Penelope, I think she's called, and that's a poetical story
too. When will you find a poet in our age make a woman so chaste?
_Colonel S._ Well, Sir Harry, your facetious humour can disguise
falsehood, and make calumny pass for satire; but you have promised me
ocular demonstration that she favours you: make that good, and I shall
then maintain faith and female to be as inconsistent as truth and
falsehood.
_Sir H._ But will you be convinced, if our plot succeeds.
_Colonel S._ I rely on your word and honour, Sir Harry.
_Sir H._ Then meet me half an hour hence at the Shakspeare; you must
oblige me by taking a hearty glass with me toward the fitting me out for
a certain project, which this night I undertake.
_Colonel S._ I guess, by the preparation, that woman's the design.
_Sir H._ Yes, 'faith.--I am taken dangerously ill with two foolish
maladies, modesty and love: the first I'll cure with Burgundy, and my
love by a night's lodging with the damsel. A sure remedy. _Probatum
est._
_Colonel S._ I'll certainly meet you, sir. [_Exeunt severally._
_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR _and_ DICKY.
_Clinch. jun._ Ah, Dick, this London is a sad place, a sad vicious
place: I wish that I were in the country again. And this brother of
mine--I'm sorry he's so great a rake: I had rather see him dead than see
him thus.
_Dicky._ Ay, sir, he'll spend his whole estate at this same Jubilee. Who
d'ye think lives at this same Jubilee?
_Clinch. jun._ Who, pray?
_Dicky._ The Pope.
_Clinch. jun._ The devil he does! My brother go to the place where the
Pope dwells! He's bewitched, sure!
_Enter_ TOM ERRAND, _in_ CLINCHER SENIOR'S _Clothes_.
_Dicky._ Indeed, I believe he is, for he's strangely altered.
_Clinch. jun._ Altered! Why, he looks like a Jesuit already.
_Tom._ This lace will sell. What a blockhead was the fellow to trust me
with his coat! If I can get cross the garden, down to the water-side, I
am pretty secure.
_Clinch. jun._ Brother?--Alaw! Oh, gemini! Are you my brother?
_Dicky._ I seize you in the kings name, sir.
_Tom._ Oh, lord! should this prove some parliament man now!
_Clinch. jun._ Speak, you rogue, what are you?
_Tom._ A poor porter, and going of an errand.
_Dicky._ What errand? Speak, you rogue.
_Tom._ A fool's errand, I'm afraid.
_Clinch. jun._ Who sent you?
_Tom._ A beau, sir.
_Dicky._ No, no; the rogue has murdered your brother, and stripped him
of his clothes.
_Clinch. jun._ Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, my poor Jubilee
brother! Stay, by Jupiter Ammon, I'm heir though. Speak, sir, have you
killed him? Confess that you have killed him, and I'll give you half a
crown.
_Tom._ Who I, sir? Alack-a-day, sir, I never killed any man, but a
carrier's horse once.
_Clinch. jun._ Then you shall certainly be hanged; but confess that you
killed him, and we'll let you go.
_Tom._ Telling the truth hangs a man, but confessing a lie can do no
harm: besides, if the worst come to the worst, I can but deny it
again.--Well, sir, since I must tell you, I did kill him.
_Clinch. jun._ Here's your money, sir.--But are you sure you killed him
dead?
_Tom._ Sir, I'll swear it before any judge in England.
_Dicky._ But are you sure that he's dead in law?
_Tom._ Dead in law! I can't tell whether he be dead in law. But he's as
dead as a door nail; for I gave him seven knocks on the head with a
hammer.
_Dicky._ Then you have the estate by statute. Any man that's knocked on
the head is dead in law.
_Clinch. jun._ But are you sure he was compos mentis when he was killed?
_Tom._ I suppose he was, sir; for he told me nothing to the contrary
afterwards.
_Clinch. jun._ Hey! Then I go to the Jubilee.--Strip, sir, strip. By
Jupiter Ammon, strip.
_Dicky._ Ah! don't swear, sir. [_Puts on his Brother's Clothes._
_Clinch. jun._ Swear, sir! Zoons, ha'n't I got the estate, sir? Come,
sir, now I'm in mourning for my brother.
_Tom._ I hope you'll let me go now, sir.
_Clinch. jun._ Yes, yes, sir; but you must do the favour to swear
positively before a magistrate, that you killed him dead, that I may
enter upon the estate without any trouble. By Jupiter Ammon, all my
religion's gone, since I put on these fine clothes.--Hey, call me a
coach somebody.
_Tom._ Ay, master, let me go, and I'll call one immediately.
_Clinch. jun._ No, no; Dicky, carry this spark before a justice, and
when he has made oath, you may discharge him. And I'll go see Angelica.
[_Exeunt_ DICKY _and_ TOM.] Now that I'm an elder brother, I'll court,
and swear, and rant and rake, and go to the Jubilee with the best of
them. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
LADY LUREWELL'S _House_.
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL _and_ PARLY.
_Lure._ Are you sure that Vizard had my letter?
_Parly._ Yes, yes, madam; one of your ladyship's footmen gave it to him
in the Park, and he told the bearer, with all transports of joy, that he
would be punctual to a minute.
_Lady L._ Thus most villains some time or other are punctual to their
ruin; Are all things prepared for his reception?
_Parly._ Exactly to your ladyship's order: the alderman too is just
come, dressed and cooked up for iniquity.
_Lady L._ Then he has got woman's clothes on?
_Parly._ Yes, madam, and has passed upon the family for your nurse.
_Lady L._ Convey him into that closet, and put out the candles, and tell
him, I'll wait on him presently. When he is tired of his situation, let
the servants pretend they take him for a common rogue, come with the
intent to rob the house, and pump him heartily.
[_As_ PARLY _goes to put out the Candles, somebody knocks.--Music plays
without._
_Lady L._ This must be Sir Harry; tell him I am not to be spoken with.
_Parly._ Sir, my lady is not to be spoken with.
_Sir H._ [_Without._] I must have that from her own mouth, Mrs. Parly.
Play, gentlemen. [_Music plays again._
_Enter_ SIR HARRY.
_Lady L._ 'Tis too early for serenading, Sir Harry.
_Sir H._ Wheresoever love is, there music is proper.
_Lady L._ But, Sir Harry, what tempest drives you here at this hour?
_Sir H._ No tempest, madam, but love madam.
[WILDAIR _taking her by the Hand_.
_Lady L._ As pure and white as angels' soft desires.
_Sir H._ Fierce, as when ripe consenting beauty fires.
_Lady L._ [_Aside._] If this be a love token, [WILDAIR _drops a ring,
she takes it up_.] your mistress's favours hang very loose about you,
sir.
_Sir H._ I can't, justly, madam, pay your trouble of taking it up, by
any thing but desiring you to wear it.
_Lady L._ You gentlemen have the cunningest ways of playing the fool,
and are so industrious in your profuseness. Speak seriously, am I
beholden to chance or design for this ring?
_Sir H._ To design, upon my honour. And I hope my design will succeed.
[_Aside._
_Lady L._ Shall I be free with you, Sir Harry?
_Sir H._ With all my heart, madam, so I may be free with you.
_Lady L._ Then plainly, sir, I shall beg the favour to see you some
other time; for at this very minute I have two lovers in the house.
_Sir H._ Then to be as plain, I must begone this minute, for I must see
another mistress within these two hours.
_Lady L._ Frank and free.
_Sir H._ As you with me--Madam, your most humble servant. [_Exit._
_Lady L._ Nothing can disturb his humour. Now for my merchant and
Vizard. [_Exit, and takes the Candles with her._
_Enter_ PARLY, _leading in_ SMUGGLER, _dressed in Woman's Clothes._
_Parly._ This way, Mr. Alderman.
_Smug._ Well, Mrs. Parly,--I'm obliged to you for this trouble: here are
a couple of shillings for you. Times are hard, very hard indeed; but
next time I'll steal a pair of silk stockings from my wife, and bring
them to you--What are you fumbling about my pockets for?
_Parly._ Only setting the plaits of your gown: here, sir, get into this
closet, and my lady will wait on you presently.
[_Puts him into the Closet, runs out, and returns with_ VIZARD.
_Vizard._ Where wouldst thou lead me, my dear auspicious little pilot?
_Parly._ You're almost in port, sir; my lady's in the closet, and will
come out to you immediately.
_Vizard._ Let me thank thee as I ought. [_Kisses her._
_Parly._ Pshaw, who has hired me best? a couple of shillings, or a
couple of kisses? [_Exit_ PARLY.
_Vizard._ Propitious darkness guides the lover's steps; and night, that
shadows outward sense, lights up our inward joy.
_Smug._ My nephew's voice, and certainly possessed with an evil spirit.
_Vizard._ Ha! I hear a voice. Madam----my life, my happiness, where are
you, madam?
_Smug._ Madam! He takes me for a woman too: I'll try him. Where have you
left your sanctity, Mr. Vizard?
_Vizard._ Talk no more of that ungrateful subject--I left it where it
has only business, with day-light; 'tis needless to wear a mask in the
dark.
_Smug._ Well, sir, but I suppose your dissimulation has some other
motive besides pleasure?
_Vizard._ Yes, madam, the honestest motive in the world--interest----You
must know, madam, that I have an old uncle, Alderman Smuggler; you have
seen him, I suppose.
_Smug._ Yes, yes, I have some small acquaintance with him.
_Vizard._ 'Tis the most knavish, precise, covetous old rogue, that ever
died of the gout.
_Smug._ Ah, the young son of a whore! [_Aside._] Well, sir, and what of
him?
_Vizard._ Why, madam, he has a swingeing estate, which I design to
purchase as a saint, and spend like a gentleman. He got it by cheating,
and should lose it by deceit. By the pretence of my zeal and sobriety,
I'll cozen the old miser, one of these days, out of a settlement and
deed of conveyance----
_Smug._ It shall be a deed to convey you to the gallows then, ye young
dog. [_Aside._
_Vizard._ And no sooner he's dead, but I'll rattle over his grave with a
coach and six, to inform his covetous ghost how genteelly I spend his
money.
_Smug._ I'll prevent you, boy; for I'll have my money buried with me.
[_Aside._
_Vizard._ Bless me, madam! here's a light coming this way. I must fly
immediately.----When shall I see you, madam?
_Smug._ Sooner than you expect, my dear.
_Vizard._ Pardon me, dear madam, I would not be seen for the world. I
would sooner forfeit my life, my pleasure, than my reputation. [_Exit._
_Smug._ Egad, and so would I too. [_Exit._
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.
LADY DARLING'S _House_.
_Enter_ LADY DARLING _and_ ANGELICA.
_Lady D._ Daughter, since you have to deal with a man of so peculiar a
temper, you must not think the general arts of love can secure him; you
may therefore allow such a courtier some encouragement extraordinary,
without reproach to your modesty.
_Ang._ I am sensible, madam, that a formal nicety makes our modesty sit
awkward, and appears rather a chain to enslave, than a bracelet to adorn
us; it should show, when unmolested, easy and innocent as a dove, but
strong and vigorous as a falcon, when assaulted.
_Lady D._ I'm afraid, daughter, you mistake Sir Harry's gaiety for
dishonour.
_Ang._ Though modesty, madam, may wink, it must not sleep, when powerful
enemies are abroad. I must confess, that, of all men's, I would not see
Sir Harry Wildair's faults.
_Lady D._ You must certainly be mistaken, Angelica; for I'm satisfied
Sir Harry's designs are only to court and marry you.
_Ang._ His pretence, perhaps, was such. Pray, madam, by what means were
you made acquainted with his designs?
_Lady D._ Means, child! Why, my cousin Vizard, who, I'm sure, is your
sincere friend, sent him. He brought me this letter from my cousin.
[_Gives her the Letter, which she opens._
_Ang._ Ha! Vizard!--then I'm abused in earnest--Would Sir Harry, by his
instigation, fix a base affront upon me? No, I can't suspect him of so
ungenteel a crime--This letter shall trace the truth. [_Aside._]--My
suspicions, madam, are much cleared; and I hope to satisfy your ladyship
in my management, when I next see Sir Harry.
_Enter_ SERVANT.
_Serv._ Madam, here's a gentleman below, calls himself Wildair.
_Lady D._ Conduct him up. [_Exit_ SERVANT.] Daughter, I won't doubt your
discretion. [_Exit_ LADY DARLING.
_Enter_ SIR HARRY WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ Oh, the delights of love and Burgundy!--Madam, I have toasted
your ladyship fifteen bumpers successively, and swallowed Cupids like
loches to every glass.
_Ang._ And what then, sir?
_Sir H._ Why, then, madam, the wine has got into my head, and the Cupids
into my heart; and unless, by quenching quick my flame, you kindly ease
the smart, I'm a lost man, madam.
_Ang._ Drunkenness, Sir Harry, is the worst pretence a gentleman can
make for rudeness; for the excuse is as scandalous as the fault.
Therefore, pray consider who you are so free with, sir; a woman of
condition, that can call half a dozen footmen upon occasion.
_Sir H._ Nay, madam, if you have a mind to toss me in a blanket, half a
dozen chambermaids would do better service. Come, come, madam; though
the wine makes me lisp, yet it has taught me to speak plainer. By all
the dust of my ancient progenitors, I must this night rest in your arms.
_Ang._ Nay, then----who waits there?
_Enter_ FOOTMEN.
Take hold of that madman, and bind him.
_Sir H._ Nay, then, Burgundy's the word; slaughter will ensue. Hold--Do
you know, scoundrels, that I have been drinking victorious Burgundy?
[_Draws._
_Servants._ We know you're drunk, sir.
_Sir H._ Then how have you the impudence, rascals, to assault a
gentleman with a couple of flasks of courage in his head?
_Servants._ We must do as our young mistress commands us.
_Sir H._ Nay, then, have among ye, dogs! [_Throws Money among them; they
scramble and take it up: he pelting them out, shuts the Door, and
returns._] Rascals, poltroons!--I have charmed the dragon, and now the
fruit's my own. I have put the whole army to flight; and now I'll take
the general prisoner. [_Laying hold on her._
_Ang._ I conjure you, sir, by the sacred name of Honour, by your dead
father's name, and the fair reputation of your mother's chastity, that
you offer not the least offence. Already you have wronged me past
redress.
_Sir H._ Thou art the most unaccountable creature----
_Ang._ What madness, Sir Harry, what wild dream of loose desire, could
prompt you to attempt this baseness?--View me well----the brightness of
my mind, methinks, should lighten outwards, and let you see your mistake
in my behaviour.
_Sir H._ [_Mimicking._] Tal tidum, tidum, tal ti didi didum. A million
to one, now, but this girl is just come flush from reading the Rival
Queens----'Egad, I'll at her in her own cant--Oh, my Statira! Oh, my
angry dear! turn thy eyes on me--behold thy beau in buskins.
_Ang._ Behold me, sir; view me with a sober thought, free from those
fumes of wine that throw a mist before your sight, and you shall find
that every glance from my reproaching eyes is armed with sharp
resentment, and with a virtuous pride that looks dishonour dead.
_Sir H._ This is the first whore in heroics that I have met with.
[_Aside._] Lookye, madam, as to that slender particular of your virtue,
we sha'n't quarrel about it; you may be as virtuous as any woman in
England, if you please. But, pray, madam, be pleased to consider, what
is this same virtue that you make such a mighty noise about--Can your
virtue keep you a coach and six? No, no; your virtuous women walk on
foot.--Can your virtue stake for you at picquet? No. Then what business
has a woman with virtue? Come, come, madam, I offered you fifty guineas;
there's a hundred----The devil!--virtuous still!--Why, it is a hundred,
five score, a hundred guineas.
_Ang._ Oh, indignation! Were I a man, you durst not use me thus. But the
mean, poor abuse you throw on me, reflects upon yourself: our sex still
strikes an awe upon the brave, and only cowards dare affront a woman.
_Sir H._ Affront! 'Sdeath, madam, a hundred guineas will set you up a
bank at basset; a hundred guineas will furnish out your closet with
china; a hundred guineas will give you an air of quality; a hundred
guineas will buy you a rich cabinet for your billet-doux, or a fine
Common Prayer Book for your virtue; a hundred guineas will buy a hundred
fine things, and fine things are for fine ladies, and fine ladies are
for fine gentlemen, and fine gentlemen are----'Egad, this Burgundy makes
a man speak like an angel----Come, come, madam, take it, and put it to
what use you please.
_Ang._ I'll use it as I would the base unworthy giver, thus----
[_Throws down the Purse, and stamps upon it._
_Sir H._ I have no mind to meddle in state affairs; but these women
will make me a parliament-man in spite of my teeth, on purpose to
bring in a bill against their extortion. She tramples under foot that
deity which all the world adores--Oh, the blooming pride of beautiful
eighteen!--Pshaw!--I'll talk to her no longer; I'll make my market
with the old gentlewoman; she knows business better----[_Goes to
the Door._]--Here, you, friend: pray, desire the old lady to walk
in----Harkye, 'egad, madam, I'll tell your mother.
_Enter_ LADY DARLING.
_Lady D._ Well, Sir Harry, and how d'ye like my daughter, pray?
_Sir H._ Like her, madam!--Harkye, will you take it?--Why, 'faith,
madam--Take the money, I say, or, 'egad, all's out.
_Ang._ All shall out--Sir, you are a scandal to the name of gentleman.
_Sir H._ With all my heart, madam--In short, madam, your daughter has
used me somewhat too familiarly, though I have treated her like a woman
of quality.
_Lady D._ How, sir?
_Sir H._ Why, madam, I have offered her a hundred guineas.
_Lady D._ A hundred guineas! Upon what score?
_Sir H._ Upon what score! Lord, lord, how these old women love to hear
bawdy!--Why, 'faith, madam, I have never a _double entendre_ ready at
present; but I suppose you know upon what score.
_Ang._ Hold, sir, stop your abusive tongue, too loose for modest ears to
hear----Madam, I did before suspect, that his designs were base, now
they're too plain; this knight, this mighty man of wit and humour, is
made a tool to a knave--Vizard has sent him on a bully's errand, to
affront a woman; but I scorn the abuse, and him that offered it.
_Lady D._ How, sir, come to affront us! D'ye know who we are, sir?
_Sir H._ Know who you are! Why, your daughter there, is Mr. Vizard's
--cousin, I suppose. And for you, madam--I suppose your ladyship to be
one of those civil, obliging, discreet old gentlewomen, who keep their
visiting days for the entertainment of their presenting friends, whom
they treat with imperial tea, a private room, and a pack of cards. Now I
suppose you do understand me.
_Lady D._ This is beyond sufferance! But say, thou abusive man, what
injury have you ever received from me, or mine, thus to engage you in
this scandalous aspersion.
_Ang._ Yes, sir, what cause, what motives could induce you thus to
debase yourself below your rank?
_Sir H._ Heyday! Now, dear Roxana, and you, my fair Statira, be not so
very heroic in your style: Vizard's letter may resolve you, and answer
all the impertinent questions you have made me.
_Lady D. and Ang._ We appeal to that.
_Sir H._ And I'll stand to't; he read it to me, and the contents were
pretty plain, I thought.
_Ang._ Here, sir, peruse it, and see how much we are injured, and you
deceived.
_Sir H._ [_Opening the Letter._] But hold, madam, [_To_ LADY DARLING.]
before I read I'll make some condition:--Mr. Vizard says here, that I
won't scruple thirty or forty pieces. Now, madam, if you have clapped in
another cypher to the account, and made it three or four hundred, 'egad
I'll not stand to't.
_Lady D._ The letter, sir, shall answer you.
_Sir H._ Well then--[Reads.] _Out of my earnest inclination to serve
your ladyship, and my cousin Angelica_--Ay, ay, the very words, I can
say it by heart--_I have sent Sir Harry Wildair to_--What the devil's
this?--_Sent Sir Harry Wildair to court my cousin_--He read to me quite
a different thing--_He's a gentleman of great parts and fortune_--He's a
son of a whore, and a rascal--_And would make your daughter very happy_
[Whistles.] _in a husband_.----[_Looks foolish, and hums a Song._]--Oh!
poor Sir Harry, what have thy angry stars designed?
_Ang._ Now, sir, I hope you need no instigation to redress our wrongs,
since even the injury points the way.
_Lady D._ Think, sir, that our blood for many generations has run in the
purest channel of unsullied honour.
_Sir H._ Ay, madam. [_Bows to her._
_Ang._ Consider what a tender flower is woman's reputation, which the
least air of foul detraction blasts.
_Sir H._ Yes, madam. [_Bows to the other._
_Lady D._ Call then to mind your rude and scandalous behaviour.
_Sir H._ Right, madam. [_Bows again._
_Ang._ Remember the base price you offered me. [_Exit._
_Sir H._ Very true, madam. Was ever man so catechized?
_Lady D._ And think that Vizard,--villain Vizard,--caused all this, yet
lives: that's all: farewell.
_Sir H._ Stay, madam, [_To_ LADY DARLING.] one word; is there no other
way to redress your wrongs, but by fighting?
_Lady D._ Only one, sir; which, if you can think of, you may do: you
know the business I entertained you for.
_Sir H._ I understand you, madam. [_Exit_ LADY DARLING.] Here am I
brought to a very pretty dilemma. I must commit murder, or commit
matrimony; which is the best now? a license from Doctors' Commons, or a
sentence from the Old Bailey?--If I kill my man, the law hangs me; if
I marry my woman, I shall hang myself.----But, damn it--cowards dare
fight:--I'll marry, that's the most daring action of the two. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
_Newgate._
CLINCHER SENIOR, _solus_.
_Clinch. sen._ How severe and melancholy are Newgate reflections! Last
week my father died; yesterday I turned beau; to-day I am laid by the
heels, and to-morrow shall be hung by the neck.----I was agreeing with a
bookseller about printing an account of my journey through France and
Italy; but now the history of my travels must be through Holborn, to
Tyburn.--"The last dying speech of Beau Clincher, that was going to the
Jubilee--Come, a halfpenny a-piece."--A sad sound, a sad sound, 'faith!
'Tis one way to make a man's death make a great noise in the world.
_Enter_ TOM ERRAND.
A reprieve! a reprieve! thou dear, dear--damned rogue. Where have you
been? Thou art the most welcome--son of a whore; where's my clothes?
_Tom._ Sir, I see where mine are. Come, sir, strip, sir, strip.
_Clinch. sen._ Sir, you cannot master me, for I am twenty thousand
strong. [_Exeunt, struggling._
SCENE III.
LADY DARLING'S _House_.
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR, _with Cards_; SERVANTS _following_.
_Sir H._ Here, fly all around, and bear these as directed; you to
Westminster, you to St. James's, and you into the city. Tell all my
friends, a bridegroom's joy invites their presence. Tell them, I am
married. If any ask to whom, make no reply; but tell them, that I am
married; that joy shall crown the day, and love the night. Begone, fly.
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.
A thousand welcomes, friend; my pleasure's now complete, since I can
share it with my friend: brisk joy shall bound from me to you; then back
again; and, like the sun, grow warmer by reflection.
_Colonel S._ You are always pleasant, Sir Harry; but this transcends
yourself: whence proceeds it?
_Sir H._ Canst thou not guess, my friend? Whence flows all earthly joy?
What is the life of man, and soul of pleasure? Woman.----What fires the
heart with transport, and the soul with raptures?--Lovely woman----What
is the master-stroke and smile of the creation, but charming, virtuous
woman?--Methinks, my friend, you relish not my joy. What is the cause?
_Colonel S._ Canst thou not guess?--What is the bane of man, and scourge
of life, but woman?--What is the heathenish idol man sets up, and is
damned for worshipping? Treacherous woman.--Woman, whose composition
inverts humanity; their bodies heavenly, but their souls are clay.
_Sir H._ Come, come, colonel, this is too much: I know your wrongs
received from Lurewell may excuse your resentment against her. But it is
unpardonable to charge the failings of a single woman upon the whole
sex. I have found one, whose virtues----
_Colonel S._ So have I, Sir Harry; I have found one whose pride's above
yielding to a prince. And if lying, dissembling, perjury, and falsehood,
be no breaches in a woman's honour, she is as innocent as infancy.
_Sir H._ Well, colonel, I find your opinion grows stronger by
opposition; I shall now, therefore, wave the argument, and only beg you
for this day to make a show of complaisance at least.--Here comes my
charming bride.
_Enter_ LADY DARLING _and_ ANGELICA.
_Colonel S._ [_Saluting_ ANGELICA.] I wish you, madam, all the joys of
love and fortune.
_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR.
_Clinch. jun._ Gentlemen and ladies, I'm just upon the spur, and have
only a minute to take my leave.
_Sir H._ Whither are you bound, sir?
_Clinch. jun._ Bound, sir! I'm going to the Jubilee, sir.
_Lady D._ Bless me, cousin! how came you by these clothes?
_Clinch. jun._ Clothes! ha! ha! ha! the rarest jest! ha! ha! ha! I shall
burst, by Jupiter Ammon--I shall burst.
_Lady D._ What's the matter, cousin?
_Clinch. jun._ The matter! ha! ha! Why, an honest porter, ha! ha! ha!
has knocked out my brother's brains--ha! ha! ha!
_Sir H._ A very good jest, i'faith--ha! ha! ha!
_Clinch. jun._ Ay, sir; but the best jest of all is, he knocked out his
brains with a hammer--and so he is as dead as a door-nail! ha! ha! ha!
_Lady D._ And do you laugh, wretch?
_Clinch. jun._ Laugh! ha! ha! ha! let me see e'er a younger brother in
England, that won't laugh at such a jest!
_Ang._ You appeared a very sober, pious gentleman, some hours ago.
_Clinch. jun._ Pshaw! I was a fool then; but now, madam, I'm a wit; I
can rake now. As for your part, madam, you might have had me once; but
now, madam, if you should fall to eating chalk, or gnawing the sheets,
it is none of my fault. Now, madam, I have got an estate, and I must go
to the Jubilee.
_Enter_ CLINCHER SENIOR, _in a Blanket_.
_Clinch. sen._ Must you so, rogue--must ye? You will go to the Jubilee,
will you?
_Clinch. jun._ A ghost! a ghost! send for the Dean and Chapter
presently.
_Clinch. sen._ A ghost! No, no, sirrah! I'm an elder brother, rogue.
_Clinch. jun._ I don't care a farthing for that; I'm sure you're dead in
law.
_Clinch. sen._ Why so, sirrah--why so?
_Clinch. jun._ Because, sir, I can get a fellow to swear he knocked out
your brains.
_Sir H._ An odd way of swearing a man out of his life!
_Clinch. jun._ Smell him, gentlemen, he has a deadly scent about him.
_Clinch. sen._ Truly, the apprehensions of death may have made me savour
a little. O lord! the Colonel! The apprehension of him may make the
savour worse, I'm afraid.
_Clinch. jun._ In short, sir, were you a ghost, or brother, or devil, I
will go to the Jubilee, by Jupiter Ammon.
_Colonel S._ Go to the Jubilee! go to the bear-garden. Get you to your
native plough and cart; converse with animals like yourself, sheep and
oxen: men are creatures you don't understand.
_Enter a_ SERVANT, _who whispers_ WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ Let them alone, colonel, their folly will be now diverting.
Come, gentlemen, we'll dispute this point some other time.--Madam, shall
I beg you to entertain the company in the next room for a moment?
[_To_ LADY DARLING.
_Lady D._ With all my heart----Come, gentlemen.
[_Exeunt all but_ WILDAIR.
_Sir H._ A lady to inquire for me! Who can this be?
_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL.
Oh, madam, this favour is beyond my expectation--to come uninvited to
dance at my wedding.----What d'ye gaze at, madam?
_Lady L._ A monster--if thou'rt married, thou'rt the most perjured
wretch that e'er avouch'd deceit.
_Sir H._ Heyday! Why, madam, I'm sure I never swore to marry you: I
made, indeed, a slight promise, upon condition of your granting me a
small favour; but you would not consent, you know.
_Lady L._ How he upbraids me with my shame!--Can you deny your binding
vows, when this appears a witness against your falsehood! [_Shows a
Ring._] Methinks the motto of this sacred pledge should flash confusion
in your guilty face--Read, read here the binding words of love and
honour--words not unknown to your perfidious tongue, though utter
strangers to your treacherous heart.
_Sir H._ The woman's stark staring mad, that's certain.
_Lady L._ Was it maliciously designed to let me find my misery when past
redress? To let me know you, only to know you false? Had not cursed
chance showed me the motto, I had been happy: the first knowledge I had
of you was fatal to me--and this second, worse.
_Sir H._ What the devil is all this! Madam, I'm not at leisure for
raillery at present, I have weighty affairs upon my hands: the business
of pleasure, madam: any other time---- [_Going._
_Lady L._ Stay, I conjure you, stay.
_Sir H._ 'Faith, I can't, my bride expects me; but harkye, when the
honey-moon is over, about a month or two hence, I may do you a small
favour. [_Exit._
_Lady L._ Grant me some wild expressions, Heavens, or I shall burst.
Woman's weakness, man's falsehood, my own shame, and love's disdain, at
once swell up my breast----Words, words, or I shall burst. [_Going._
_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.
_Colonel S._ Stay, madam, you need not shun my sight; for if you are
perfect woman, you have confidence to outface a crime, and bear the
charge of guilt without a blush.
_Lady L._ The charge of guilt! what, making a fool of you? I've done
it, and glory in the act: dissembling to the prejudice of men, is
virtue; and every look, or sign, or smile, or tear that can deceive, is
meritorious.
_Colonel S._ Very pretty principles, truly. If there be truth in woman,
'tis now in thee. Come, madam, you know that you're discovered, and,
being sensible that you cannot escape, you would now turn to bay. That
ring, madam, proclaims you guilty.
_Lady L._ O monster, villain, perfidious villain! Has he told you?
_Colonel S._ I'll tell it you, and loudly too.
_Lady L._ O, name it not----Yet, speak it out, 'tis so just a punishment
for putting faith in man, that I will bear it all. Speak now, what his
busy scandal, and your improving malice, both dare utter.
_Colonel S._ Your falsehood can't be reached by malice nor by satire;
your actions are the justest libel on your fame; your words, your looks,
your tears, I did believe in spite of common fame. Nay, 'gainst mine own
eyes, I still maintained your truth. I imagined Wildair's boasting of
your favours to be the pure result of his own vanity: at last he urged
your taking presents of him; as a convincing proof of which, you
yesterday from him received that ring, which ring, that I might be sure
he gave it, I lent him for that purpose.
_Lady L._ Ha! you lent it him for that purpose!
_Colonel S._ Yes, yes, madam, I lent it him for that purpose----No
denying it--I know it well, for I have worn it long, and desire it now,
madam, to restore it to the just owner.
_Lady L._ The just owner! Think, sir, think but of what importance 'tis
to own it: if you have love and honour in your soul, 'tis then most
justly yours; if not, you are a robber, and have stolen it basely.
_Colonel S._ Ha! your words, like meeting flints, have struck a light,
to show me something strange----But tell me instantly, is not your real
name Manly?
_Lady L._ Answer me first: did not you receive this ring about twelve
years ago?
_Colonel S._ I did.
_Lady L._ And were not you about that time entertained two nights at the
house of Sir Oliver Manly, in Oxfordshire?
_Colonel S._ I was! I was! [_Runs to her, and embraces her._] The blest
remembrance fires my soul with transport----I know the rest----you are
the charming she, and I the happy man.
_Lady L._ How has blind fortune stumbled on the right? But where have
you wandered since?--'Twas cruel to forsake me.
_Colonel S._ The particulars of my fortune are too tedious now: but to
discharge myself from the stain of dishonour, I must tell you, that
immediately upon my return to the university, my elder brother and I
quarrelled: my father, to prevent farther mischief, posts me away to
travel: I wrote to you from London, but fear the letter came not to your
hands.
_Lady L._ I never had the least account of you by letter, or otherwise.
_Colonel S._ Three years I lived abroad, and at my return, found you
were gone out of the kingdom, though none could tell me whither: missing
you thus, I went to Flanders, served my king till the peace commenced;
then fortunately going on board at Amsterdam, one ship transported us
both to England. At the first sight I loved, though ignorant of the
hidden cause----You may remember, madam, that, talking once of marriage,
I told you I was engaged--to your dear self I meant.
_Lady L._ Then men are still most generous and brave--and, to reward
your truth, an estate of three thousand pounds a year waits your
acceptance; and, if I can satisfy you in my past conduct, I shall
expect the honourable performance of your promise, and that you will
stay with me in England.
_Colonel S._ Stay--Nor fame, nor glory e'er shall part us more. My
honour can be no where more concerned than here.
_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR _and_ ANGELICA.
Oh, Sir Harry! Fortune has acted miracles to-day: the story's strange
and tedious, but all amounts to this--that woman's mind is charming as
her person, and I am made a convert too to beauty.
_Sir H._ I wanted only this, to make my pleasure perfect.
_Enter_ SMUGGLER.
_Smug._ So, gentlemen and ladies, I'm glad to find you so merry; is my
gracious nephew among ye?
_Sir H._ Sir, he dares not show his face among such honourable company;
for your gracious nephew is--
_Smug._ What, sir? Have a care what you say.
_Sir H._ A villain, sir.
_Smug._ With all my heart. I'll pardon you the beating me, for that very
word. And pray, Sir Harry, when you see him next, tell him this news
from me, that I have disinherited him--that I will leave him as poor as
a disbanded quarter-master.--Oh, Sir Harry, he is as hypocritical----
_Lady L._ As yourself, Mr. Alderman. How fares my good old nurse, pray,
sir?----Come, Mr. Alderman, for once let a woman advise:--Would you be
thought an honest man, banish covetousness, that worst gout of age:
avarice is a poor pilfering quality, of the soul, and will, as certainly
cheat, as a thief would steal. Would you be thought a reformer of the
times, be less severe in your censures, less rigid in your precepts, and
more strict in your example.
_Sir H._ Right, madam, virtue flows freer from imitation than
compulsion; of which, colonel, your conversion and mine, are just
examples.
In vain are musty morals taught in schools,
By rigid teachers, and as rigid rules,
Where virtue with a frowning aspect stands,
And frights the pupil from its rough commands
But woman----
Charming woman can true converts make,
We love the precept for the teacher's sake.
Virtue in them appears so bright, so gay,
We hear with transport, and with pride obey. [_Exeunt omnes._
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
The text includes a number of words with alternate spellings or
spellings no longer common. These have been retained. A single
instance of dy'e was changed to match the otherwise usual d'ye.
The following additional changes were made to the text:
Act II, Scene III, (Colonel Standard)
I ha'n't vered half my message
was changed to read:
I ha'n't delivered half my message.
Act IV, Scene II, (Lady Lurewell)
This must be Sir Harry; tell him I am not be spoken with.
was changed to read:
This must be Sir Harry; tell him I am not to be spoken with.
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