_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 coupee; 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.