Enter FOSSILE in a footman's cloaths,
_Foss._ A Special dog; this footman of my wife's! as mercenary as the
porter of a first minister! Why should she place him as a centinal at my
door? unquestionably, to carry on her intrigues. Why did I bribe him to
lend me his livery? to discover those intrigues. And now, O wretched
Fossile, thou hast debas'd thyself into the low character of a footman.
What then? gods and demi gods have assum'd viler shapes: they, to make a
cuckold; I, to prove myself one. Why then should my metamorphosis be
more shameful, when my purpose is more honest?
[_Knocking at the door, enter footman._]
_Foot._ Ay, this is her livery. Friend, give this to your mistress.
[_Gives a letter to Fossile and exit._]
_Fossile._ [_reads_]
'Madam, you have jilted me. What I gave you cost me dear; what you
might have given me, would have cost you nothing. You shall use my
next present with more respect. I presented you a fine snuff-box;
you gave it to that coxcomb Underplot, and Underplot gave it to my
wife. Judge of my surprise.
'Freeman.'
A fine circulation of a snuff-box! in time I shall have the rarest of my
shells set off with gold hinges, to make presents to all the fops about
town. My _Conchae Veneris_; and perhaps, even my _Nautilus_.
_A knocking at the door. Enter an old woman._
_Old Wom._ Can I speak with your good mistress, honest friend?
_Fos._ No, she's busy.
_Old Wom._ Madam Wyburn presents her service and has sent this letter.
[_Exit._
_Fossile._ [_reads_]
'Being taken up with waiting upon merchants ladies this morning, I
have sent to acquaint you, my dear sweet Mrs. Townley, that the
alderman agrees to every thing but putting away his wife, which he
says is not decent at that end of the town. He desires a meeting
this evening.'
Postscript.
'He does not like the grocer's wife at all.'
Bless me! what a libidinous age we live in! neither his own wife! nor
the grocer's wife! Will people like nobody's wife but mine!
[_Knocking at the door. Enter footman, gives a letter, and exit._]
_Enter another footman gives a letter, and exit._
_Foss._ [_reads_]
'Sincerely, madam, I cannot spare that sum; especially in monthly
payments. My good friend and neighbour Pinch, a quiet sober man, is
content to go a third part, only for leave to visit upon sabbath
days.
'Habakkuk Plumb.'
Well, frugallity is laudable even in iniquity! Now for this other.
_Opens the second letter._
_Foss._ [_reads_]
'Madam, I can't make you rich, but I can make you immortal.
Verses on Mrs. Susanna Townley, in the front box dress'd in green.
In you the beauties of the spring are seen,
Your cheeks are roses, and your dress is green.
A poor dog of a poet! I fear him not.
_Enter a ragged fellow with a letter._
_Foot._ My master is at present under a cloud----He begs you will
deliver this letter to your lady.
[_Exit._
_Foss._ [_reads_]
'I am reduced by your favours to ask the thing I formerly deny'd;
that you would entertain me as a husband, who can no longer keep
you as a mistress.
'Charles Bat.'
Why did I part with this fellow? This was a proposal indeed, to make
both me and himself happy at once! He shall have her, and a
twelve-month's fees into the bargain. Where shall I find him?--Why was
the mistress of all mankind unknown to thee alone? Why is nature so dark
in our greatest concerns? Why are there no external symptoms of
defloration, nor any pathognomick of the loss of virginity but a big
belly? Why has not lewdness its tokens like the plague? Why must a man
know rain by the aking of his corns, and have no prognostick of what is
of infinitely greater moment, cuckoldom? Or if there are any marks of
chastity, why is the enquiry allowed only to Turks and Jews, and denyed
to Christians? O Townley, Townley! once to me the fragrant rose; now
aloes, wormwood and snake-root! but I must not be seen.
_As Townley and Sarsnet enter, Fossile sneaks off._
_Town._ Sarsnet, we are betray'd. I have discovered my husband posted at
the door in Hugh's livery, he has intercepted all my letters. I
immediately writ this, which is the only thing that can bring us off.
Run this moment to Plotwell, get him to copy it, and send it directed to
me by his own servant with the utmost expedition. He is now at the
chocolate-house in the next street.
_Sars._ I fly, madam; but how will you disengage yourself from the
affair with Underplot?
_Town._ Leave it to me. Though he wants sense, he's handsome, and I like
the fellow; and if he is lucky enough to come in my husband's
absence.----But prithee Sarsenet make haste.
[_Exit Townley and Sarsenet, upon which Fossile re-enters, to him
Underplot._]
_Underp._ Harke'e, friend. I never talk with one of your coat, but I
first tip him.
_Foss._ Behold the lucre of a pimp! Between the pox abroad, and my
plague at home, I find a man may never want fees. [_aside._] Your
honour's commands, I pray. I long to serve you.
_Underp._ Ah, boy! thou hast a rare mistress for vails. Come I know thou
art a sly dog; can'st thou introduce me to her for a moment's
conversation?
_Foss._ Impossible.
_Underp._ What, still impossible?
[_Gives more money._
_Foss._ Still impossible.
_Underp._ Poh, pox. But prithee, friend, by the by, is there any thing
in this report that she is marry'd to the doctor here?
_Foss._ I am afraid there is something in it.
_Underp._ What a spirit does a jealous husband give to an intrigue!
Pray, is he not a most egregious silly animal?
_Foss._ Not exceeding wise indeed,
_Underp,_ Rich?
_Foss._ He has money.
_Underp._ That will save the expence of her gallants. Old?
_Foss._ Ay, too old, heaven knows.
_Underp._ How came it into the puppy's head to marry?
_Foss._ By the instigation of Satan.
_Underp._ I'll help the old fool to an heir.
_Foss._ No doubt on't. If the whole town can do it, he will not want
one.
[_Aside._
_Underp._ Come, prithee deal freely with me, Has Plotwell been here
since the wedding?
_Foss._ He has! too sure: [_aside._] He's a dangerous rival to you; if
you have a mind to succeed, keep a strict watch upon him, that he may
not get admittance before you.
_Underp._ Well since thou hast shown thyself so much my friend, I'll let
thee into a secret. Plotwell and I no sooner heard of the wedding, but
we made a bett of a hundred guineas, who should dub the doctor first.
Remember you go twenty pieces with me.
_Foss._ But here is some body coming. Away you are sure of my interest.
[_Exit Underplot._
_Foss._ This was well judg'd. I have a small territory coveted by two
rival potentates. It is profound policy to make them watch one the
other, and so keep the ballance of power in my own hands. Certainly
nothing so improves one's politicks, as to have a coquet to on'es wife,
Enter a footman with a letter,
_Foot._ This is for your lady, Deliver it safe into her own hands.
[_Exit Footman._
_Fos._ [_reads._]
'Know, cruel woman, I have discovered the secret of your marriage;
you shall have all the plague of a jealous husband, without the
pleasure of giving him cause. I have this morning counterfeited
billetdoux and letters from bawds; nay, I have sent pimps; some of
which, I hope, are fallen into your old coxcomb's hands. If you deny
me the pleasure of tipping him a real cuckold, at least, I'll have
the resentment to make him an imaginary one. Know that this is not
the hundredth part of the revenge that shall be executed upon thee,
by R. P.'
_Town._ [_peeping._] So. The letter works as I would have it.
[_Aside._
_Foss._ How true is that saying of the philosopher! 'We only know, that
we know nothing.' The eruption of those horns which seem'd to make so
strong a push is now suppress'd. Is the mystery of all these letters
nothing but the revenge of a disappointed lover? The hand and seal are
just the same with the Welchman's that I intercepted a while ago. Truly,
these Welch are a hot revengeful people. My wife may be virtuous; she
may not. Prevention is the safest method with diseases and intrigues.
Women are wanton, husbands weak, bawds busy, opportunities dangerous,
gallants eager; therefore it behoves honest men to be watchful. But here
comes my Wife, I must hide myself; for should I be detected, she might
have a just cause of complaint for my impertinent curiosity.
_Exit Fossi._
Enter TOWNLEY; and to her SARSNET at the other door.
_Sars._ Your orders, madam, have been executed to a tittle, and I hope
with success.
_Town._ Extremely well. Just as we could have wish'd. But I can't
forgive that rascal Hugh. To turn him away would be dangerous. We will
rather take the advantage of the confidence my husband has in him. Leave
the husband to me, and do you discipline the footman. Such early
curiosity must be crush'd in the bud. Hugh, Hugh, Hugh. [_calls aloud,
and rings._] What is become of the rogue?
[_Townley runs in, and drags out Fossile changing his cloaths
with Hugh._
Why sirrah! must one call all day for you?
[_cuffs him._
_Sars._ This is not Hugh, madam; a rouge in disguise, got in to rob the
house! thieves, thieves!
Enter CLINKET, PRUE with the writing-desk, and servants
_Foss._ St. St--no noise. Prithee, dearee, look upon me. See, see, thy
own dear husband. It is I.
_Town._ What an unfortunate woman am I! Could not you pass one day
without an intrigue? and with a cookwench too! for you could put on a
livery for no other end. You wicked man.
_Sars._ His coldness, madam, is now no longer a mystery. Filthy monster!
wer't not thou provided with my mistress as a remedy for thy rampant
unchastity?
_Town._ Was all your indeffierence to me for this! you brute you.
[_weeps._
_Foss._ Nay, prithee, dearee, judge not rashly. My character is
establish'd in the world. There lives not a more sober, chaste, and
virtuous person than doctor Fossile.
_Town._ Then why this disguise?
_Foss,_ Since it must come out; ha, ha, ha, only a frolick on my
wedding day between Hugh and I. We had a mind to exhibit a little
mummery.
_Clink._ What joy arises in my soul to see my uncle in a dramatick
character! Since your humour lead you to the drama, uncle, why would you
not consult a relative muse in your own family? I have always used you
as my physician; and why should not you use me as your poet?
_Foss,_ Prithee, dear, leave me a moment. This is a scandal to my
gravity. I'll be with you, as my self, immediately.
[_Exeunt omnes, except Fossile and Hugh. As they are changing
habits, Fossile says,_
As a mark of my confidence in thee, I leave thee guardian of my house
while I go my rounds. Let none in but patients; wan sickly fellows, no
person in the least degree of bodily strength.
_Hugh._ Worthy doctor, you may rely upon my honour.
_Exit Fos._
I have betray'd my mistress. My conscience flies in my face, and I can
ease it noway but by betraying my master.
_Knocking at the door._
This is not the doctor; but he is dress'd like him, and that shall be my
excuse.
[_He lets Plotwell in, Townley meets him, they embrace._
_Town._ Hugh, go, wait at the door.
[_Exit Hugh._
_Plotw._ This disguise gives spirit to my intrigue. Certainly I am the
first person that ever enjoy'd a bride without the scandal of matrimony.
_Town._ I have a different relish, Mr. Plotwell, for now I can't abide
you, you are so like my husband.
_Plotw._ Underplot, I defy thee. I have laid the wager, and now I hold
the stakes.
_Town._ Opportunity Mr. Potwell, has been the downfall of much virtue.
[_As he is leading her off, enter Hugh._
_Hugh._ Ah, madam! the doctor! the doctor!
_Exit Hugh._
_Plot._ Fear nothing. I'll stand it. I have my part ready.
[_Exit Townley._
Enter FOSSILE.
_Foss._ I promised lady _Langfort_ my eagle-stone. The poor lady is like
to miscarry, and 'tis well I thought on't. Ha! who is here! I do not
like the aspect of the fellow. But I will not be over censorious.
[_They make many bows and cringes in advancing to each other._
_Plot._ _Illustrissime domine, huc adveni_--
_Foss._ _Illustrissime domine----non usus, sum loquere Latinum_----If
you cannot speak English, we can have no lingual conversation.
_Plot._ I can speak but a little Englise. Me ave great deal heard of de
fame of de great luminary of all arts and sciences, de illustrious
doctor Fossile. I would make commutation (what do you call it) I would
exchange some of my tings for some of his tings.
_Foss._ Pray, Sir, what university are you of?
_Plot._ De famous university of Cracow in Polonia minor. I have cured de
king of Sweden of de wound. My name be doctor Cornelius Lubomirski.
_Foss._ Your Lubomirskis are a great family. But what Arcana are you
master of, Sir?
_Plot._ [_Shows a large snuff-box._] See dere, Sir, dat box de snuff.
_Foss._ Snuff-box.
_Plot._ Right. Snuff-box. Dat be de very true gold.
_Foss._ What of that?
_Plot._ Vat of dat? me make dat gold my own self, of de lead of de great
church of Crawcow.
_Foss._ By what operations?
_Plot._ By calcination; reverberation; purification; sublimation;
amalgamation; precipitation; volitilization.
_Foss._ Have a care what you assert. The volitilization of gold is not
an obvious process. It is by great elegance of speech called, _fortitudo
fortitudinis fortissima_.
_Plot._ I need not acquaint de illustrious doctor Fossile, dat all de
metals be but unripe gold.
_Foss._ Spoken like a philosopher, And therefore there should be an act
of parliament against digging of lead mines, as against felling young
timber. But inform me, Sir, what might be your menstruum, snow-water, or
May-dew?
_Plot._ Snow-vater.
_Foss._ Right. Snow is the universal pickle of nature for the
preservation of her productions in the hyemal season.
_Plot._ If you will go your self, and not trust de servant, to fetch
some of de right Thames sand dat be below de bridge, I will show you de
naked Diana in your study before I go hence.
_Foss._ Perhaps you might. I am not at present dispos'd for experiments.
_Plot._ This bite wont take to send him out of the way, I'll change my
subject. [_Aside._] Do you deal in longitudes, Sir?
_Foss._ I deal not in impossibilities. I search only for the grand
elixir.
_Plot._ Vat do you tink of de new metode of fluxion?
_Foss._ I know no other but my mercury.
_Plot._ Ha, ha. Me mean de fluxion of de quantity.
_Foss._ The greatest quantity I ever knew, was three quarts a day.
_Plot._ Be dere any secret in the hydrology, zoology, minerology,
hydraulicks, acausticks, pneumaticks, logarithmatechny, dat you do want
de explanation of?
_Foss._ This is all out of my way. Do you know of any hermaphrodites,
monstrous twins, antediluvivian shells, bones, and vegetables?
_Plot._ Vat tink you of an antediluvian knife, spoon, and fork, with the
mark of Tubal Cain in Hebrew, dug out of the mine of Babylon?
_Foss._ Of what dimensions, I pray, Sir?
_Plot._ De spoon be bigger dan de modern ladle; de fork, like de great
fire-fork; and de knife, like de cleaver.
_Foss._ Bless me! this shows the stature and magnitude of those
antidiluvians!
_Plot._ To make you convinced that I tell not de lie, dey are in de
Turkey ship at Vapping, just going to be disposed of. Me would go there
vid you, but de businss vil not let me.
_Foss._ An extraordinary man this! I'll examine him further. [_Aside._]
How could your country lose so great a man as you?
_Plot._ Dat be de secret. But because me vil have de fair correspondence
with de illustrious doctor Fossile, me vil not deny dat Orpheus and me
had near run de same fate for different reason. I was hunted out of my
country by de general insurrection of de women.
_Foss._ How so pray?
_Plot._ Because me have prepare a certain liquor which discover whether
a woman be a virgin or no.
_Foss._ A curious discovery! have you any of it still?
_Plot._ Dere it is, Sir. It be commonly called de _Lapis Lydius
Virginitatis_, or touch-stone of virginity.
[_gives him a vial._
_Foss._ It has the smell of your common hart's-horn. But all your
volatile spirits have a near resemblance.
_Plot._ Right, Sir. De distillation be made from the _Hippomanes_ of a
young mare. When a deflower'd virgin take ten drops, she will faint and
sneeze, and de large red spot appear on the cheek; which we call
de spot of infamy. All de young bridegroom make de experiment. De
archbishop did make obligation to de nun to take it every ninth month.
And I fly for the hurlyburly it make.
Enter HUGH.
_Hugh._ Sir here is a patient in a chair.
_Foss._ Doctor Lubomirski, let me conduct you into my study, where we
will farther discuss the wonderful virtues of this liquor. Tell the
patient I will attend him this instant.
[_Exeunt Plotwell and Fossile._
Enter UNDERPLOT in a chair like a sick man.
_Hugh._ The doctor will wait upon you immediately.
[_Exit Hugh._
_Underp._ I dogg'd Plotwell to this door in a doctor's habit. If he has
admittance as a doctor, why not I as a patient? Now for a lucky decision
of our wager! If I can't succeed myself, I will at least spoil his
intrigue.
Enter FOSSILE.
_Underp._ Ah! ah! have you no place? Ah! where can I repose a little? I
was taken suddenly. Ah! ah! 'tis happy I was so near the house of an
eminent physician.
_Foss._ Rest yourself upon that couch.
_Underp._ If I lay a few minutes cover'd up warm in a bed, I believe I
might recover.
[_Fossile feels his pulse. Plotwell peeps._
_Plot._ Underplot in disguise! I'll be his doctor, and cure him of these
frolicks.
[_aside._
_Foss._ What are your symptoms, Sir? a very tempestuous pulse, I
profess!
_Underp._ Violent head-ach, ah! ah!
_Foss._ All this proceeds from the fumes of the kitchen, the stomachic
digester wants reparation for the better concoction of your aliment:
But, Sir, is your pain pungitive, tensive, gravitive, or pulsatory?
_Plot._ All together, ah!
_Foss._ Impossible Sir; but I have an eminent physician now in the
house, he shall consult. Doctor Lubomirski, here is a person in a most
violent cephalalgy, a terrible case!
Enter PLOTWELL.
_Foss._ Feel his pulse. [_Plotwell feels it._] You feel it, Sir, strong,
hard and labouring.
_Plot._ Great plenitude, Sir.
_Foss._ Feel his belly, Sir; a great tension and heat of the abdomen--A
hearty man, his muscles are torose; how soon are the strongest humbled
by diseases! let us retire, and consult.
Enter SARSNET in haste.
_Sars._ My mistress approves your design, bear it out bravely, perhaps I
shall have a sudden opportunity of conveying you into her bed-chamber,
counterfeit a fainting fit and rely upon me.
[_Exit._
_Underp._ As yet I find I am undiscover'd by Plotwell; neither is his
intrigue in such forwardness as mine, though he made a fair push for it
before me.
[_aside._
[_Fossile and Plotwell come forward._
_Foss._ I am entirely for a glister.
_Plot._ My opinion is for de strong vomit.
_Foss._ Bleed him.
_Plot._ Make de searrification, give me de lancet, me will do it myself,
and after dat will put de blister to de sole of de feet,
_Foss._ Your dolor proceeds from a frigid _intemperies_ of the brain, a
strong disease! the enemy has invaded the very citadel of your
microcosm, the magazine of your vital functions; he has set down before
it; yet there seems to be a good garrison of vital spirits, and we don't
question to be able to defend it.
_Plot._ Ve will cannonade de enemy with pills, bombard him wid de bolus,
blow him up with volatiles, fill up the trenches wid de large
innundation of apozems, and dislodge him wid de stink pot; let de
apotecary bring up de artillery of medicine immediately.
_Foss._ True, we might unload the stomach by gentle emeticks, and the
intestines by clysters stimulative, carminative, and emollient, with
strong hydroticks, quiet the spasms of the viscera by paregoricks, draw
off the stagnant blood by deep scarrifications, and depurate its
faeculencies by volatiles; after this, let there be numerous blisters and
potential cauteries--I consult my patient's ease; I am against much
physick--He faints, he is apoplectic, bleed him this moment.
_Plot._ Hoy de servant dere, make hast, bring de pan of hot coals; or de
red hot iron to make application to de temples.
Enter HUGH.
_Hugh._ Here's the poker red hot from the fire.
_Plot._ Very well make de burn dere, exactly dere.
[_putting the poker near his head._
_Underp._ Hold, hold, am I to be murder'd? [_starts up._] I know you,
Plotwell, and was I not oblig'd by honour and friendship, I'd expose you
to the doctor.
[_aside to Plotwell._
_Plot._ Very lunatick, mad, fetch me de cord to make de tie upon de leg
and de arm, take off thirty ounces of blood, and den plunge him into de
cold bath.
_Foss._ Your judgment, doctor Lubomirski, is excellent, I will call my
servants to assist us.
_Underp._ Hearke'e, old put; I came to take your advice, and not that
French son of a whore's scarrifications; and so plague take you both.
[_Exit Underplot and Hugh._