_Trusty._ Yes, I hear him now, Madam, he is hobbling up, as fast as he
can.
Lady _Town._ Don't let him come in--for he will keep such a babbling
about his accounts,----my brain is not able to bear him.
[_~Poundage~ comes to the door with a money-bag in his hand._
_Trusty._ O! it's well you are come, Sir! where's the fifty-pound?
_Pound._ Why here it is; if you had not been in such haste, I should
have paid it by this time----the man's now writing a receipt, below,
for it.
_Trusty._ No matter! my lady says, you must not pay him with that
money, there is not enough, it seems; there's a pistole and a guinea
that's not good, in it----besides there is a mistake in the account
too----[_Twitching the bag from him._] But she is not at leisure to
examine it now; so you must bid Mr. What-d'ye-call-um call another time.
Lady _Town._ What is all that noise there?
_Pound._ Why and it please your Ladyship----
Lady _Town._ Pr'ythee! don't plague me now, but do as you were order'd.
_Pound._ Nay, what your Ladyship pleases, Madam----
[_Exit ~Poundage~._
_Trusty._ There they are, Madam----[_Pours the money out of the bag._]
The pretty things----were so near falling into a nasty tradesman's
hands, I protest it made me tremble for them----I fancy your ladyship
had as good give me that bad guinea, for luck's sake--thank you, Madam.
[_Takes a guinea._
Lady _Town._ Why, I did not bid you take it.
_Trusty._ No, but your ladyship look'd as if you were just going to bid
me, and so I was willing to save you the trouble of speaking, Madam.
Lady _Town._ Well! thou hast deserv'd it, and so for once----but hark!
don't I hear the man making a noise yonder? though I think now we may
compound for a little of his ill humour----
_Trusty._ I'll listen.
Lady _Town._ Pr'ythee do.
[_~Trusty~ goes to the door._
_Trusty._ Ay! they are at it, Madam--he's in a bitter passion, with
poor _Poundage_----bless me! I believe he'll beat him----mercy on us;
how the wretch swears!
Lady _Town._ And a sober citizen too! that's a shame!
_Trusty._ Ha! I think all's silent, of a sudden----may be the porter
has knock'd him down--I'll step and see----
[_Exit ~Trusty~._
Lady _Town._ Those trades-people are the troublesomest creatures! no
words will satisfy them!
[_~Trusty~ returns._
_Trusty._ O Madam! undone! undone! my lord has just bolted out upon
the man, and is hearing all his pitiful story over----if your ladyship
pleases to come hither, you may hear him yourself!
Lady _Town._ No matter: it will come round presently: I shall have it
all from my Lord, without losing a word by the way, I'll warrant you.
_Trusty._ O lud! Madam! here's my lord just coming in.
Lady _Town._ Do you get out of the way then. [_Exit ~Trusty~._] I am
afraid I want spirits! but he will soon give 'em me.
_Enter Lord ~Townly~._
Lord _Town._ How comes it, Madam, that a tradesman dares be clamorous
in my house, for money due to him, from you?
Lady _Town._ You don't expect, my lord, that I should answer for other
peoples impertinence!
Lord _Town._ I expect, Madam, you should answer for your own
extravagances, that are the occasion of it----I thought I had given you
money three months ago, to satisfy all these sort of people!
Lady _Town._ Yes, but you see they are never to be satisfied.
Lord _Town._ Nor am I, Madam, longer to be abus'd thus! what's become
of the last five hundred I gave you?
Lady _Town._ Gone.
Lord _Town._ Gone! what way, Madam?
Lady _Town._ Half the town over, I believe, by this time.
Lord _Town._ 'Tis well! I see ruin will make no impression, 'till it
falls upon you.
Lady _Town._ In short, my Lord, if money is always the subject of our
conversation, I shall make you no answer.
Lord _Town._ Madam, Madam! I will be heard, and make you answer.
Lady _Town._ Make me! then I must tell you, my Lord, this is a language
I have not been us'd to, and I won't bear it.
Lord _Town._ Come! come, Madam, you shall bear a great deal more before
I part with you.
Lady _Town._ My Lord, if you insult me, you will have as much to bear,
on your side, I can assure you.
Lord _Town._ Pooh! your spirit grows ridiculous----you have neither
honour, worth, or innocence, to support it!
Lady _Town._ You'll find, at least, I have resentment! and do you look
well to the provocation!
Lord _Town._ After those you have given me, Madam, 'tis almost infamous
to talk with you.
Lady _Town._ I scorn your imputation and your menaces! The narrowness
of your heart's your monitor! 'tis there! there, my lord, you are
wounded; you have less to complain of than many husbands of an equal
rank to you.
Lord _Town._ Death, Madam! do you presume upon your corporal merit!
that your person's less tainted, than your mind! is it there! there
alone an honest husband can be injur'd? Have you not every other vice
that can debase your birth, or stain the heart of woman? Is not your
health, your beauty, husband, fortune, family disclaim'd, for nights
consumed in riot and extravagance? The wanton does no more; if she
conceals her shame, does less: And sure the dissolute avow'd, as sorely
wrongs my honour, and my quiet.
Lady _Town._ I see, my Lord, what sort of wife might please you.
Lord _Town._ Ungrateful woman! could you have seen yourself, you in
yourself had seen her----I am amaz'd our legislature has left no
precedent of a divorce for this more visible injury, this adultery of
the mind, as well as that of the person! when a woman's whole heart is
alienated to pleasures I have no share in, what is't to me whether a
black ace, or a powder'd coxcomb has possession of it?
Lady _Town._ If you have not found it yet, my lord, this is not the way
to get possession of mine, depend upon it.
Lord _Town._ That, Madam, I have long despair'd of; and since our
happiness cannot be mutual, 'tis fit, that with our hearts, our persons
too should separate.----This house you sleep no more in! tho' your
content might grosly feed upon the dishonour of a husband, yet my
desires would starve upon the features of a wife.
Lady _Town._ Your stile, my lord, is much of the same delicacy with
your sentiments of honour.
Lord _Town._ Madam, Madam! this is no time for compliments----I have
done with you.
Lady _Town._ If we had never met, my Lord, I had not broke my heart for
it! but have a care I may not, perhaps, be so easily recall'd as you
imagine.
Lord _Town._ Recall'd--Who's there!
_Enter a Servant._
Desire my sister and Mr. _Manly_ to walk up.
Lady _Town._ My Lord, you may proceed as you please, but pray what
indiscretions have I committed, that are not daily practis'd by a
hundred other women of quality?
Lord _Town._ 'Tis not the number of ill wives, Madam, that makes the
patience of a husband less contemptible: and though a bad one may be
the best man's lot, yet he'll make a better figure in the world, that
keeps his misfortunes out of doors, than he that tamely keeps her
within.
Lady _Town._ I don't know what figure you may make, my Lord, but I
shall have no reason to be asham'd of mine in whatever company I may
meet you.
Lord _Town._ Be sparing of your spirit, Madam, you'll need it to
support you.
_Enter Lady ~Grace~ and ~Manly~._
Mr. _Manly_, I have an act of friendship to beg of you, which wants
more apologies, than words can make for it.
_Man._ Then pray make none, my Lord, that I may have the greater merit
in obliging you.
Lord _Town._ Sister, I have the same excuse to intreat of you too.
Lady _Grace._ To your request, I beg, my Lord.
Lord _Town._ Thus then----as you both were present at my ill considered
marriage, I now desire you each will be a witness of my determin'd
separation----I know, Sir, your good nature, and my sister's must
be shock'd at the office I impose on you! but as I don't ask your
justification of my cause; so I hope you are conscious----that an ill
woman can't reproach you, if you are silent, upon her side.
_Man._ My lord, I never thought, 'till now, it could be difficult to
oblige you.
Lady _Grace._ [_Aside._] Heaven's! how I tremble!
Lord _Town._ For you, my Lady _Townly_, I need not here repeat the
provocations of my parting with you--the world, I fear, is too well
informed of them----For the good lord, your dead father's sake, I will
still support you, as his daughter----As the lord _Townly_'s wife, you
have had every thing a fond husband could bestow, and (to our mutual
shame I speak it) more than happy wives desire----But those indulgences
must end! State, equipage and splendor, but ill become the vices that
misuse 'em----The decent necessaries of life shall be supply'd----but
not one article to luxury! Not even the coach that waits to carry
you from hence, shall you ever use again! Your tender aunt, my Lady
_Lovemore_, with tears, this morning has consented to receive you;
where if time, and your condition brings you to a due reflection, your
allowance shall be increased----But if you still are lavish of your
little, or pine for past licentious pleasures, that little shall be
less! nor will I call that soul my friend, that names you in my hearing!
Lady _Grace._ My heart bleeds for her.
[_Aside._
Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! look there! turn back thy thoughts with me,
and witness to my growing love; there was a time when I believ'd that
form incapable of vice or of decay! There I proposed the partner of an
easy home! There I for ever hoped to find, a chearful companion, an
agreeable intimate, a faithful friend, a useful help-mate, and a tender
mother----But oh! how bitter now the disappointment!
_Man._ The world is different in its sense of happiness: offended as
you are, I know you still will be just.
Lord _Town._ Fear me not.
_Man._ This last reproach, I see, has struck her.
[_Aside._
Lord _Town._ No, let me not (though I this moment cast her from my
heart for ever) let me not urge her punishment beyond her crimes----I
know the world is fond of any tale that feeds its appetite of scandal:
and as I am conscious, severities of this kind seldom fail of
imputations too gross to mention, I here, before you both acquit her of
the least suspicion rais'd against the honour of my bed. Therefore when
abroad her conduct may be question'd, do her fame that justice.
Lady _Town._ O sister!
[_Turns to Lady ~Grace~ weeping._
Lord _Town._ When I am spoken of, where without favour this action
may be canvass'd, relate but half my provocations, and give me up to
censure.
[_Going._
Lady _Town._ Support me! save me! hide me from the world!
[_Falls on Lady ~Grace~'s neck._
Lord _Town._ [_Returning._]----I had forgot me--You have no share in my
resentment; therefore, as you have liv'd in friendship with her, your
parting may admit of gentler terms than suit the honour of an injur'd
husband.
[_Offers to go out._
_Man._ [_Interposing._] My Lord, you must not, shall not leave her
thus! one moment's stay can do your cause no wrong! If looks can speak
the anguish of the heart, I'll answer with my life, there's something
labouring in her mind, that would you bear the hearing, might deserve
it.
Lord _Town._ Consider! since we no more can meet; press not my staying
to insult her.
Lady _Town._ Yet stay my Lord----the little I would say, will not
deserve an insult; and undeserv'd, I know your nature gives it not. But
as you've call'd in friends, to witness your resentment, let them be
equal hearers of my last reply.
Lord _Town._ I shan't refuse you that, Madam----be it so.
Lady _Town._ My Lord, you ever have complain'd I wanted love; but as
you kindly have allowed I never gave it to another; so when you hear
the story of my heart, though you may still complain, you will not
wonder at my coldness.
Lady _Grace._ This promises a reverse of temper.
[_Apart._
_Man._ This, my Lord, you are concern'd to hear!
Lord _Town._ Proceed, I am attentive.
Lady _Town._ Before I was your bride, my Lord, the flattering world
had talk'd me into beauty; which, at my glass, my youthful vanity
confirm'd: wild with that fame, I thought mankind my slaves, I
triumph'd over hearts while all my pleasure was their pain: yet was my
own so equally insensible to all, that when a father's firm commands
enjoin'd me to make choice of one, I even there declin'd the liberty he
gave, and to his own election yielded up my youth----his tender care,
my Lord, directed him to you----Our hands were join'd! But still my
heart was wedded to its folly! My only joy was power, command, society,
profuseness, and to lead in pleasures! The husband's right to rule,
I thought a vulgar law, which only the deform'd or meanly spirited
obey'd! I knew no directors, but my passions; no matter but my will!
even you, my lord, some time o'ercome by love, was pleas'd with my
delights; nor, then foresaw this mad misuse of your indulgence----And,
though I call myself ungrateful, while I own it, yet as a truth, it
cannot be deny'd----That kind indulgence has undone me! it added
strength to my habitual failings, and in a heart thus warm, in wild
unthinking life, no wonder if the gentler sense of love was lost.
Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! where has this creature's }
heart been buried? }
} _Apart._
_Man._ If yet recoverable----How vast a }
treasure? }
Lady _Town._ What I have said, my lord, is not my excuse; but my
confession! my errors (give 'em if you please, a harder name) cannot
be defended! No! What's in its nature wrong, no words can palliate,
no plea can alter! What then remains in my condition but resignation
to your pleasure? Time only can convince you of my future conduct:
Therefore till I have liv'd an object of forgiveness, I dare not hope
for pardon----The penance of a lonely contrite life were little to the
innocent; but to have deserv'd this separation, will strew perpetual
thorns upon my pillow.
Lady _Grace._ O happy, heavenly hearing!
Lady _Town._ Sister, farewel! [_Kissing her._] Your virtue needs no
warning from the shame that falls on me: but when you think I have
aton'd my follies past----persuade your injur'd brother to forgive them.
Lord _Town._ No, Madam! Your errors thus renounc'd, this instant are
forgotten! So deep, so due a sense of them, has made you, what my
utmost wishes form'd, and all my heart has sigh'd for.
Lady _Town._ [_Turning to Lady ~Grace~._] How odious does this goodness
make me!
Lady _Grace._ How amiable your thinking so?
Lord _Town._ Long-parted friends, that pass through easy voyages
of life, receive but common gladness in their meeting: but from a
shipwreck sav'd, we mingle tears with our embraces!
[_Embracing Lady ~Townly~._
Lady _Town._ What words! what love! what duty can repay such
obligations!
Lord _Town._ Preserve but this desire to please, your power is endless.
Lady _Town._ Oh!----'till this moment, never did I know, my Lord, I had
a heart to give you!
Lord _Town._ By heav'n this yielding hand, when first it gave you to
my wishes, presented not a treasure more desirable! O _Manly_! sister!
as you have often shar'd in my disquiet, partake of my felicity! my
new-born joy! see here the bride of my desires! this may be called my
wedding-day!
Lady _Grace._ Sister! (for now methinks that name is dearer to my heart
than ever) let me congratulate the happiness that opens to you.
_Man._ Long, long and mutual may it flow----
Lord _Town._ To make our happiness compleat, my dear, join here with me
to give a hand, that amply will repay the obligation.