_The Gallery in Lady Bountiful's House.
Enter Mrs. Sullen and Dorinda_.
_Mrs. Su_., Ha! ha! ha! my dear sister, let me embrace
thee! now we are friends indeed; for I shall have a
secret of yours as a pledge for mine--now you'll be
good for something, I shall have you conversable in
the subjects of the sex.
_Dor_. But do you think that I am so weak as to fall in
love with a fellow at first sight?
_Mrs. Sul_. Psha! now you spoil all; why should not we
be as free in our friendships as the men? I warrant
you, the gentleman has got to his confidant already,
has avowed his passion, toasted your health, called
you ten thousand angels, has run over your lips,
eyes, neck, shape, air, and everything, in a description
that warms their mirth to a second enjoyment.
_Dor_. Your hand, sister, I an't well.
_Mrs. Sul_. So--she's breeding already--come, child, up
with it--hem a little--so--now tell me, don't you like
the gentleman that we saw at church just now?
_Dor_. The man's well enough.
_Mrs. Sul_. Well enough! is he not a demigod, a Narcissus,
a star, the man i' the moon? {21}
_Dor_. O sister, I'm extremely ill!
_Mrs. Sul_. Shall I send to your mother, child, for a little
of her cephalic plaster to put to the soles of your
feet, or shall I send to the gentleman for something
for you? Come, unlace your stays, unbosom yourself.
The man is perfectly a pretty fellow; I saw
him when he first came into church.
_Dor_. I saw him too, sister, and with an air that shone,
methought, like rays about his person. {30}
_Mrs. Sul_. Well said, up with it!
_Dor_. No forward coquette behaviour, no airs to set him
off, no studied looks nor artful posture--but Nature
did it all--
_Mrs. Sul_. Better and better!--one touch more--come!
_Dor_. But then his looks--did you observe his eyes?
_Mrs. Sul_. Yes, yes, I did.--His eyes, well, what of his
eyes? {38}
_Dor_. Sprightly, but not wandering; they seemed to
view, but never gazed on anything but me.--And
then his looks so humble were, and yet so noble,
that they aimed to tell me that he could with pride
die at my feet, though he scorned slavery anywhere
else.
_Mrs. Sul_. The physic works purely!--How d' ye find
yourself now, my dear?
_Dor_. Hem! much better, my dear.--Oh, here comes our
Mercury!
_Enter Scrub_.
Well, Scrub, what news of the gentleman?
_Scrub_. Madam, I have brought you a packet of news.
_Dor_. Open it quickly, come. {51}
_Scrub_. In the first place I inquired who the gentleman
was; they told me he was a stranger. Secondly, I
asked what the gentleman was; they answered and
said, that they never saw him before. Thirdly, I
inquired what countryman he was; they replied,
'twas more than they knew. Fourthly, I demanded
whence he came; their answer was, they could not
tell. And, fifthly, I asked whither he went; and
they replied, they knew nothing of the matter,--and
this is all I could learn. {61}
_Mrs. Sul_. But what do the people say? can't they
guess?
_Scrub_. Why, some think he's a spy, some guess he's a
mountebank, some say one thing, some another:
but, for my own part, I believe he's a Jesuit.
_Dor_. A Jesuit! why a Jesuit?
_Scrub_. Because he keeps his horses always ready
saddled, and his footman talks French.
_Mrs. Sul_. His footman! {70}
_Scrub_. Ay, he and the count's footman were jabbering
French like two intriguing ducks in a mill-pond;
and I believe they talked of me, for they laughed
consumedly.
_Dor_. What sort of livery has the footman?
_Scrub_. Livery! Lord, madam, I took him for a captain,
he's so bedizzened with lace! And then he has
tops to his shoes, up to his mid leg, a silver-headed
cane dangling at his knuckles; he carries his
hands in his pockets just so--[_walks in the French
air_.--and has a fine long periwig tied up in a bag.
--Lord, madam, he's clear another sort of man
than I! {83}
_Mrs. Sul_. That may easily be.--But what shall we do
now, sister?
_Dor_. I have it--this fellow has a world of simplicity,
and some cunning, the first hides the latter by
abundance.--Scrub!
_Scrub_. Madam!
_Dor_. We have a great mind to know who this gentleman
is, only for our satisfaction.
_Scrub_. Yes, madam, it would be a satisfaction, no doubt.
_Dor_. You must go and get acquainted with his footman,
and invite him hither to drink a bottle of your ale
because you 're butler to-day. {95}
_Scrub_. Yes, madam, I am butler every Sunday.
_Mrs. Sul_. O' brave! sister, o' my conscience, you
understand the mathematics already. 'Tis the best
plot in the world: your mother, you know, will be
gone to church, my spouse will be got to the ale-house
with his scoundrels, and the house will be our
own--so we drop in by accident, and ask the fellow
some questions ourselves. In the country, you
know, any stranger is company, and we're glad to
take up with the butler in a country-dance, and
happy if he 'll do us the favour. {106}
_Scrub_. O madam, you wrong me! I never refused your
ladyship the favour in my life.
_Enter Gipsy_.
_Gip_. Ladies, dinner's upon table.
_Dor_. Scrub, we'll excuse your waiting--go where we
ordered you.
_Scrub_. I shall. [_Exeunt_.