Enter Dr. FOSSILE, and PLOTWELL.
_Foss._ Doctor Lubomirski, this vial that you have intrusted into my
custody, shall be with acknowledgment return'd after a few experiments;
I must crave your indulgence; diseases, you know, Sir, are impertinent,
and will tie themselves to no hours, poor lady Hyppokekoana!
_Plot._ Ah Sir! I beg your pardon, if you make visit to de patient, me
will divert myself in your study till you make return.
_Foss._ That cannot be, I have a lady just coming to consult me in a
case of secrecy.
_Plot._ Have you not de wife? me will make conversation wid de ladies
till you come.
_Foss._ They see no company in the morning, they are all in
_deshabillee_; most learned doctor Lubomirski, your humble servant.
_Plot._ Most illustrious doctor Fossile, me be, with de profoundest
adoration
_Foss._ With the greatest admiration
_Plot._ Your most humble
_Foss._ Most obedient servant.
_Plot._ Ah, Monsieur, point de ceremonie.
[_Exit Plotwell._
Enter HUGH.
_Foss._ Hugh, bring me a pint of sack; let your mistress know I want to
see her. Take care that her orders be obey'd, and that her trunks and
boxes be immediately brought hither. Sarset will give you directions.
[_Exit Hugh. Fossile sits down on a couch._
Ah Fossile! if the cares of two hours of a married life have so reduc'd
thee, how long can'st thou hold out! to watch a wife all day, and have
her wake thee all night! 'twill never do. The fitigue of three fevers,
six small poxes, and five great ones, is nothing to that of one wife.
Now for my touch-stone; I will try it upon her presently. If she bear it
to day--I am afraid she will bear it to morrow too.
_Enter Hugh with a bottle of sack, and after him Townley. Hugh gives
the bottle and glass to Fossile and exit._
Sit down by me, my dear, I was going to refresh myself with a glass of
canary. You look pale. It will do you good.
_Town._ Faugh. Wine in the morning!
[_Fossile drinks and fills again, and drops some of the liquor into
the glass._]
What is the meaning of this? am I to be poison'd.
[_aside._
_Foss._ You must drink it. Sack is sacred to Hymen; of it is made the
nuptial posset.
_Town._ Don't press me, Mr. Fossile, I nauseate it. It smells strangely.
There is something in it.
_Foss._ An ill symptom! she can't bear the smell. [_aside._] Pray, my
dear, oblige me.
_Town._ I'm for none of your flops. I'll fill myself.
_Foss._ I must own, I have put some restorative drops in it, which are
excellent. I may drink it safely. [_aside._] [_drinks._] The next glass
I prepare for you.
[_Fills, and powers some drops in._
[_Townley drinks. Fossile runs behind to support her; then pores
upon her cheek, and touches it with his finger._
_Town._ Your insolence is insupportable. 'Twas but this moment you
suspected my virtue; and now my complexion. Put on your spectacles. No
red was ever laid upon these cheeks. I'll fly thee, and die a maid,
rather than live under the same roof with jealousy and caprice.
_Foss._ O thou spotless innocence! I cannot refrain tears of joy.
Forgive me, and I'll tell thee all. These drops have been a secret in
our family for many years. They are call'd the touch-stone of virginity.
The males administer it to the brides on their wedding-day; and by its
virtue have ascertain'd the honour of the Fossiles from generation to
generation. There are family customs, which it is almost impious to
neglect.
_Town._ Had you married a person of doubtful reputation----But me, Mr.
Fossile!
_Foss._ I did not indeed suspect thee. But my mother obliged me to this
experiment with her dying words--My wife is chaste: And to preserve her
so, 'tis necessary that I have none but chaste servants about her. I'll
make the experiment on all my female domesticks. [_aside._] I will now,
my dear, in thy presence, put all my family to the trial. Here! bid my
niece, and all the maid-servants come before me.
[_Calling out._
_Enter Clinket, Prue, and Servants._
Give ear, all ye virgins: We make proclamation in the name of the chaste
Diana, being resolv'd to make a solemn essay of the virtue, virginity,
and chastity of all within our walls. We therefore advise, warn and
precaution all spinsters, who know themselves blemish'd, not on any
pretence whatsoever to taste these our drops, which will manifest their
shame to the world by visible tokens.
_Clink._ I abominate all kind of drops. They interrupt the series of
ideas. But have the any power over the virgin's dreams, thoughts, and
private meditations?
_Foss._ No. They do not affect the _motus Primo-primi_, or intentions;
only actualities, niece.
_Clink._ Then give it me. I can drink as freely of it as of the waters
of Helicon. My love was always Platonick.
[_drinks._
_Foss._ Yet I have known a Platonick lady lodge at a mid wife's.
[_Fossile offers it round._]
1st _Wom._ I never take physick.
_Foss._ That's one. Stand there. My niece professes herself a Platonick.
You are rather a Cartesian.
_Clink._ Ah dear uncle! how do the Platonicks and Cartesians differ.
_Foss._ The Platonicks are for idea's, the Cartesians for matter and
motion.
_Town._ Mr. Fossile, you are too severe.
2d _Wom._ I am not a-dry.
[_curtsies._
_Foss._ There's two. Stand there.
_Prue._ My mistress can answer for me. She has taken it.
_Foss._ She has. But however stand there, among the Cartesians.
3d _Wom._ My innocence would protect me, though I trod over red-hot
iron. Give me a brimmer.
[_She takes a mouthful and spits it out again._]
_Foss._ 'Twas a presumptuous thing to gargle with it: but however,
madam, if you please----walk among the Cartesians.
[_Two young wenches run away._
_Clink._ Prue, follow me. I have just found a rhime for my Pindarick.
[_They all sneak off._
_Fos._ All gone! what no more ladies here? no more ladies! [_looking to
the audience,_] O that I had but a boarding-school, or a middle gallery!
_Enter Sarsnet, follow'd by two porters bearing a chest._
Set down the things here: there is no occasion for carrying them up
stairs, since they are to be sent into the country to morrow.
[_Exit porters._
What have I done? My marriage, these confounded whimsies, and doctor
Lubomirski, have made me quite forget poor lady Hippokekoana. She was in
convulsions, and I am afraid dead by this time.
[_Exit Fossile._
_Sars._ I have brought you a present, madam, make good use of it. So I
leave you together.
[_Exit Sarsnet._
[_Townley opens the chest: Plotwell, who was cover'd with a gown and
petticoat, gets out._]
_Town._ Never was any thing so lucky. The doctor is just this minute
gone to a patient.
_Plot._ I tempt dangers enough in your service. I am almost crippled in
this chest-adventure. Oh my knees! Prithee, my dear, lead me to a bed
where I may strech myself out.
[_Leading her off._
Enter SARSNET.
_Sars._ Oh madam! yonder is the doctor in deep discourse with Underplot:
I fear he has dogg'd me, and betray'd us. The are both coming back
together.
[_Exit Sarsnet._
_Plot._ I'll shrink snug into my shell again.
_Town._ That he may directly pop upon you. The trunk will be the first
place he will examine, have you no presence of mind? You sit for an
intrigue!
_Plot._ What shall I do?
_Town._ Fear not, you shall be invisible i th is very spot.
_Plot._ What do you mean? he's just at the door. You intend to discover
me.
_Town._ Mistrust me not: You shall walk out before his face at that very
door, though he bring in a hundred spies, and not one of them shall
perceive you.
_Plot._ Don't trifle. Are you mad? [_knocking at the door._] Nay, now
'tis too late.
_Town._ Arm thyself with flounces, and fortify thyself with whalebone;
enter beneath the cupulo of this petticoat.
_Plot._ The best security in the world! an old fellow has seldom any
thing to do beneath that circumferance.
_Town._ No more but under it immediately.
[_Plotwell goes under it._
Thus Venus, when approaching foes assail,
Shields her AEneas with a silken veil.
Enter FOSSILE.
_Town._ O my dear you come opportunely. How do you like my fancy in this
new petticoat? there is something in it so odd!
_Fos._ You have another in your chest much odder. I want to see that.
_Town._ How jaunty the flounces!
_Fos._ Ay, 'tis plain she would lure me from the chest; there I shall
find him.
[_aside._
_Town._ The lace! the fringe!
_Fos._ All this is nothing to the embroider'd sattin. Prithee, my dear,
give me the key.
_Town._ Sure never was any thing so prettily disposed. Observe but the
air of it: So _degagee_! But the lining is so charming.
[_She walks to the door, and Fossile to the trunk. Plotwell kisses
her out of the top of the petticoat, and then goes off._]
[_As Fossile is cautiously opening the trunk with his sword drawn,
Townley comes up to him._]
What, more of your frolicks, Mr. Fossile. What time of the moon is this?
_Fos._ This Underplot is a confounded villain, he would make me jealous
of an honest civil gentleman, only for an opportunity to cuckold me
himself. [_aside._] Come, my dear, forget all that is past. I know----I
have proved thee virtuous. But prithee, love, leave me a moment; I
expect some Egyptian rarities.
[_Exeunt severally._