_Wom._ Madam, 'twas my Lady _Bridle_, and my Lady _Tiptoe_.
_Aman._ My Lady _Fiddle_, and my Lady _Faddle_. What dost stand
troubling me with the Visits of a parcel of impertinent Women? When
they are well seam'd with the Small Pox, they won't be so fond of
shewing their Faces----There are more Coquettes about this Town--
_Wom._ Madam, I suppose, they only came to return your Ladyship's
Visit, according to the Custom of the World.
_Aman._ Wou'd the World were on Fire, and you in the middle on't! Be
gone: leave me.
[_Exit Wom._
_~Amanda~ sola._
At last I am convinc'd. My Eyes are Testimonies of his Falshood.
The base, ungrateful, perjur'd Villain----
Good Gods--What slippery Stuff are Men compos'd of!
Sure the Account of their Creation's false,
And 'twas the Woman's Rib that they were form'd of.
But why am I thus angry?
This poor Relapse shou'd only move my Scorn.
'Tis true, the roving Flights of his unfinish'd Youth
Had strong Excuses from the Plea of Nature:
Reason had thrown the Reins loose on his Neck,
And slipt him to unlimited Desire.
If therefore he went wrong, he had a Claim
To my Forgiveness, and I did him right.
But since the Years of Manhood rein him in,
And Reason, well digested into Thought,
Has pointed out the Course he ought to run;
If now he strays,
'Twou'd be as weak and mean in me to pardon,
As it has been in him t' offend. But hold:
'Tis an ill Cause indeed, where nothing's to be said for't.
My Beauty possibly is in the Wain:
Perhaps Sixteen has greater Charms for him:
Yes, there's the Secret. But let him know,
My Quiver's not entirely empty'd yet,
I still have Darts, and I can shoot 'em too;
They're not so blunt, but they can enter still;
The Want's not in my Power, but in my Will.
Virtue's his Friend; or, thro' another's Heart,
I yet cou'd find the way to make his smart.
[_Going off, she meets ~Worthy~._
Ha! He here? Protect me, Heaven, for this looks ominous.
_Wor._ You seem disorder'd, Madam; I hope there's no Misfortune
happen'd to you?
_Aman._ None that will long disorder me, I hope.
_Wor._ Whate'er it be disturbs you, I wou'd to Heaven 'twere in my
Power to bear the Pain, till I were able to remove the Cause.
_Aman._ I hope ere long it will remove itself. At least, I have given
it warning to be gone.
_Wor._ Wou'd I durst ask, Where 'tis the Thorn torments you?
Forgive me, if I grow inquisitive;
'Tis only with desire to give you Ease.
_Aman._ Alas! 'tis in a tender Part. It can't be drawn without a World
of Pain: Yet out it must; for it begins to fester in my Heart.
_Wor._ If 'tis the Sting of unrequited Love, remove it instantly: I
have a Balm will quickly heal the Wound.
_Aman._ You'll find the Undertaking difficult: The Surgeon who already
has attempted it, has much tormented me.
_Wor._ I'll aid him with a gentler Hand--if you will give me leave.
_Aman._ How soft soe'er the Hand may be, there still is Terror in the
Operation.
_Wor._ Some few Preparatives would make it easy, could I persuade you
to apply 'em. Make Home Reflections, Madam, on your slighted Love:
Weigh well the Strength and Beauty of your Charms: Rouse up that Spirit
Women ought to bear, and slight your God, if he neglects his Angel.
With Arms of Ice receive his cold Embraces, and keep your Fire for
those who come in Flames. Behold a burning Lover at your Feet, his
Fever raging in his Veins. See how he trembles, how he pants! See how
he glows, how he consumes! Extend the Arms of Mercy to his Aid: his
Zeal may give him Title to your Pity, altho' his Merit cannot claim
your Love.
_Aman._ Of all my feeble Sex, sure I must be the weakest, shou'd I
again presume to think on Love. [_Sighing._]--Alas! my Heart has been
too roughly treated.
_Wor._ 'Twill find the greater Bliss in softer Usage.
_Aman._ But where's that Usage to be found?
_Wor._ 'Tis here, within this faithful Breast; which if you doubt, I'll
rip it up before your Eyes; lay all its Secrets open to your View; and
then you'll see 'twas sound.
_Aman._ With just such honest Words as these, the worst of Men deceiv'd
me.
_Wor._ He therefore merits all Revenge can do: his Fault is such, the
Extent and Stretch of Vengeance cannot reach it. O make me but your
Instrument of Justice; you'll find me execute it with such Zeal, as
shall convince you I abhor the Crime.
_Aman._ The Rigour of an Executioner has more the Face of Cruelty than
Justice: And he who puts the Cord about the Wretch's Neck, is seldom
known to exceed him in his Morals.
_Wor._ What Proof then can I give you of my Truth?
_Aman._ There is on Earth but one.
_Wor._ And is that in my Power?
_Aman._ It is: And one that would so thoroughly convince me, I should
be apt to rate your Heart so high, I possibly might purchase't with a
part of mine.
_Wor._ Then, Heav'n, thou art my Friend, and I am blest; for if 'tis
in my Power, my Will I'm sure will reach it. No matter what the Terms
may be, when such a Recompence is offer'd. O tell me quickly what this
Proof must be! What is it will convince you of my Love?
_Aman._ I shall believe you love me as you ought, if from this Moment,
you forbear to ask whatever is unfit for me to grant.----You pause upon
it, Sir----I doubt on such hard Terms, a Woman's Heart is scarcely
worth the having.
_Wor._ A Heart like yours, on any Terms is worth it; 'twas not on that
I paus'd: But I was thinking [_Drawing nearer to her._] whether some
things there may not be, which Women cannot grant without a Blush, and
yet which Men may take without Offence. [_Taking her Hand._] Your Hand
I fancy may be of the Number: O pardon me, if I commit a Rape upon it,
[_Kissing it eagerly._] and thus devour it with my Kisses!
_Aman._ O Heavens! let me go.
_Wor._ Never, whilst I have Strength to hold you here. [_Forcing her to
sit down on a Couch._] My Life, my Soul, my Goddess----O forgive me!
_Aman._ O whither am I going? Help, Heaven, or I am lost.
_Wor._ Stand neuter, Gods, this once I do invoke you.
_Aman._ Then, save me, Virtue, and the Glory's thine.
_Wor._ Nay, never strive.
_Aman._ I will; and conquer too. My Forces rally bravely to my Aid,
[_Breaking from him._] and thus I gain the Day.
_Wor._ Then mine as bravely double their Attack. [_Seizing her again._]
And thus I wrest it from you. Nay, struggle not; for all's in vain: On
Death or victory; I am determin'd.
_Aman._ And so am I. [_Rushing from him._] Now keep your distance, or
we part for ever.
_Wor._ [_Offering again._] For Heaven's sake----
_Aman._ [_Going._] Nay then, farewel.
_Wor._ [_Kneeling and holding by her Clothes._] O stay, and see the
Magick Force of Love: Behold this raging Lion at your Feet, struck
dead with Fear, and tame as Charms can make him. What must I do to be
forgiven by you?
_Aman._ Repent, and never more offend.
_Wor._ Repentance for past Crimes is just and easy; but sin no more's a
Task too hard for Mortals.
_Aman._ Yet those who hope for Heaven, must use their best Endeavours
to perform it.
_Wor._ Endeavours we may use, but Flesh and Blood are got in t'other
Scale; and they are pond'rous things.
_Aman._ Whate'er they are, there is a Weight in Resolution sufficient
for their Balance. The Soul, I do confess, is usually so careless of
its Charge, so soft, and so indulgent to Desire, it leaves the Reins
in the wild Hand of Nature, who, like a _Phaeton_, drives the fiery
Chariot, and sets the World on Flame. Yet still the Sovereignty is in
the Mind, whene'er it pleases to exert its Force. Perhaps you may not
think it worth your while to take such mighty pains for my Esteem; but
that I leave to you.
You see the Price I set upon my Heart; }
Perhaps 'tis dear: But spite of all your Art, }
You'll find on cheaper Terms we ne'er shall part. }
[_Exit ~Amanda~._
_~Worthy~ solus_.
Sure there's Divinity about her; and she'as dispens'd some portion on't
to me. For what but now was the wild Flame of Love, or (to dissect that
specious Term) the vile, the gross Desires of Flesh and Blood, is in a
Moment turn'd to Adoration. The coarser Appetite of Nature's gone, and
'tis, methinks, the Food of Angels I require: how long this Influence
may last, Heaven knows. But in this Moment of my Purity, I cou'd on her
own Terms accept her Heart. Yes, lovely Woman, I can accept it. For now
'tis doubly worth my Care. Your Charms are much increas'd, since thus
adorn'd. When Truth's extorted from us, then we own the Robe of Virtue
is a graceful Habit.
Cou'd Women but our secret Counsels scan,
Cou'd they but reach the deep Reserves of Man,
They'd wear it on, that That of Love might last;
For when they throw off one, we soon the other cast.
Their Sympathy is such----
The Fate of one, the other scarce can fly--
They live together, and together die.
[_Exit._
_Enter ~Miss~ and ~Nurse~._
_Miss._ But is it sure and certain, say you, he's my Lord's own Brother?
_Nurse._ As sure, as he's your lawful Husband.
_Miss._ I'cod, if I had known that in time, I don't know but I might
have kept him; For, between you and I, Nurse, he'd have made a Husband
worth two of this I have. But which do you think you shou'd fancy most,
Nurse?
_Nurse._ Why, truly, in my poor fancy, Madam, your first Husband is the
prettier Gentleman.
_Miss._ I don't like my Lord's Shapes, Nurse.
_Nurse._ Why in good truly, as a body may say, he is but a Slam.
_Miss._ What do you think now he puts me in mind of? Don't you remember
a long, loose, shambling sort of a Horse my Father call'd _Washy_?
_Nurse._ As like as two Twin-Brothers.
_Miss._ I'cod, I have thought so a hundred times: 'Faith, I'm tired of
him.
_Nurse._ Indeed, Madam, I think you had e'en as good stand to your
first Bargain.
_Miss._ O but, Nurse, we han't considered the main thing yet.
If I leave my Lord, I must leave my Lady too: and when I rattle
about the Streets in my Coach, they'll only say, there goes
Mistress----Mistress----Mistress what? What's this Man's Name, I have
married, Nurse?
_Nurse._ 'Squire _Fashion_.
_Miss._ 'Squire _Fashion_ is it?----Well, 'Squire, that's better than
nothing: Do you think one cou'd not get him made a Knight, Nurse?
_Nurse._ I don't know but one might, Madam, when the King's in a good
Humour.
_Miss._ I'cod, that wou'd do rarely. For then he'd be as good a Man as
my Father, you know.
_Nurse._ By'r Lady, and that's as good as the best of 'em.
_Miss._ So 'tis, faith; for then I shall be my Lady, and your Ladyship
at every Word, that's all I have to care for. Ha, Nurse! But hark you
me, one thing more, and then I have done. I'm afraid, if I change my
Husband again, I shan't have so much Money to throw about, Nurse.
_Nurse._ O, enough's as good as a Feast: Besides, Madam, one don't
know, but as much may fall to your share with the younger Brother, as
with the elder. For tho' these Lords have a power of Wealth, indeed;
yet as I have heard say, they give it all to their Sluts and their
Trulls, who joggle it about in their Coaches, with a Murrain to 'em,
whilst poor Madam sits sighing and wishing, and knotting and crying,
and has not a spare Half-Crown to buy her a _Practice of Piety_.
_Miss._ O, but for that, don't deceive yourself, Nurse. For this I must
[_Snapping her Fingers._] say for my Lord, and a----for him: He's as
free as an open House at _Christmas_. For this very Morning he told me,
I shou'd have two hundred a-year to buy Pins. Now, Nurse, if he gives
me two hundred a-year to buy Pins, what do you think he'll give me to
buy fine Petticoats?
_Nurse._ Ah, my Dearest, he deceives these faully, and he's no better
than a Rogue for his pains. These _Londoners_ have got a Gibberidge
with them, would confound a Gipsey. That which they call Pin-money, is
to buy their Wives every thing in the varsal World, down to their very
Shoe-tyes? Nay, I have heard Folks say, That some Ladies, if they will
have Gallants, as they call 'em, are forc'd to find them out of their
Pin-money too.
_Miss._ Has he serv'd me so, say ye?----Then I'll be his Wife no
longer, that's fixt. Look, here he comes, with all the fine Folks at
's heels. I'cod, Nurse, these _London_ Ladies will laugh till they
crack again, to see me slip my Collar, and run away from my Husband.
But, d'ye hear? Pray take care of one thing: When the Business comes to
break out, be sure you get between me and my Father, for you know his
Tricks; he'll knock me down.
_Nurse._ I'll mind him, ne'er fear, Madam.
_Enter Lord ~Foppington~, ~Loveless~, ~Worthy~, ~Amanda~,
and ~Berinthia~._
_Lord Fop._ Ladies and Gentlemen, you are all welcome. [_To_ Lov.]
_Loveless_----That's my Wife; pr'ythee do me the favour to salute
her: And do'st hear, [_Aside to him._] if thau hast a mind to try thy
Fartune, to be reveng'd of me, I won't take it ill, stap my Vitals.
_Lov._ You need not fear, Sir, I'm too fond of my own Wife, to have the
least Inclination for yours.
[_All salute Miss._
_Lord Fop._ [_Aside._] I'd give a thausand Paund he wou'd make Love to
her, that he may see she has sense enough to prefer me to him, tho' his
own Wife has not: [_Viewing him._]--He's a very beastly Fellow, in my
Opinion.
_Miss._ [_Aside._] What a Power of fine Men there are in this _London_!
He that kist me first, is a goodly Gentleman, I promise you: Sure those
Wives have a rare time on't, that live here always.
_Enter Sir ~Tunbelly~, with Musicians, Dancers, ~&c.~_
Sir _Tun._ Come, come in, good People, come in; come, tune your
Fiddles, tune your Fiddles.
_To the Hautboys._] Bag-pipes, make ready there. Come, strike up.
[_Sings._
_For this is ~Hoyden~'s Wedding-day;
And therefore we keep Holy-day,
And come to be merry._
Ha! there's my Wench, I'faith: Touch and take, I'll warrant her; she'll
breed like a tame Rabbit.
_Miss._ [_Aside._] I'cod, I think my Father's gotten drunk before
Supper.
Sir _Tun._ [_To ~Lov~. and ~Wor~._] Gentlemen, you are welcome.
[_Saluting ~Aman~. and ~Ber~._] Ladies, by your leave. Ha----They bill
like Turtles. Udsookers, they set my old Blood a-fire; I shall cuckold
some body before Morning.
_Lord Fop._ [_To Sir ~Tun~._] Sir, you being Master of the
Entertainment, will you desire the Company to sit?
Sir _Tun._ Oons, Sir,----I'm the happiest Man on this side the _Ganges_.
_Lord Fop._ [_Aside._] This is a mighty unaccountable old Fellow. [_To
Sir ~Tun~._] I said, Sir, it wou'd be convenient to ask the Company to
sit.
Sir _Tun._ Sit----with all my heart: Come, take your places, Ladies;
take your places, Gentlemen: Come, sit down, sit down; a Pox of
Ceremony, take your places.
[_They sit, and the Mask begins._
Dialogue between _Cupid_ and _Hymen_.
Cupid. 1.
_Thou Bane to my Empire, thou Spring of Contest,
Thou Source of all Discord, thou Period to Rest;
Instruct me what Wretches in Bondage can see,
That the Aim of their Life is still pointed to thee._
Hymen. 2.
_Instruct me, thou little impertinent God,
From whence all thy Subjects have taken the Mode
To grow fond of a Change, to whatever it be,
And I'll tell thee why those wou'd be bound, who are free._
Chorus.
_For Change, we're for Change, to whatever it be,
We are neither contented with Freedom nor Thee.
Constancy's an empty Sound,
Heaven, and Earth, and all go round,
All the Works of Nature move,
And the Joys of Life and Love
Are in Variety._
Cupid. 3.
_Were Love the Reward of a pains-taking Life,
Had a Husband the Art to be fond of his Wife;
Were Virtue so plenty, a Wife cou'd afford,
These very hard Times, to be true to her Lord;
Some specious Account might be given of those
Who are ty'd by the Tail, to be led by the Nose._
4.
_But since 'tis the Fate of a Man and his Wife,
To consume all their Days in Contention and Strife:
Since whatever the Bounty of Heaven may create her,
He's morally sure he shall heartily hate her;
I think 'twere much wiser to ramble at large,
And the Volleys of Love on the Herd to discharge._
Hymen. 5.
_Some colour of Reason thy Counsel might bear,
Cou'd a Man have no more than his Wife to his share;
Or were I a Monarch so cruelly just,
To oblige a poor Wife to be true to her Trust;
But I have not pretended, for many Years past,
By marrying of People, to make 'em grow chaste._
6.
_I therefore advise thee to let me go on,
Thou'd find I'm the Strength and Support of thy Throne;
For hadst thou but Eyes, thou wouldst quickly perceive it,
How smoothly the Dart
Slips into the Heart
Of a Woman that's Wed;
Whilst the shivering Maid
Stands trembling, and wishing, but dare not receive it._
Chorus.
_For Change,_ &c.
_The Mask ended, enter ~Young Fash~, ~Coupler~, and ~Bull~._
Sir _Tun._ So, very fine, very fine, i'faith; this is something like a
Wedding; now if Supper were but ready, I'd say a short Grace; and if I
had such a Bedfellow as _Hoyden_ to night----I'd say as short Prayers.
_Seeing Young Fash._ How now----what have we got here? A Ghost? Nay, it
must be so; for his Flesh and Blood cou'd never have dar'd to appear
before me. [_To him._] Ah, Rogue----
_Lord Fop._ Stap my Vitals, _Tam_ again?
Sir _Tun._ My Lord, will you cut his Throat? Or shall I?
_Lord Fop._ Leave him to me, Sir, if you please. Pr'ythee, _Tam_, be so
ingenuous now, as to tell me what thy Business is here?
_Young Fash._ 'Tis with your Bride.
_Lord Fop._ Thau art the impudent'st Fellow that Nature has yet spawn'd
into the Warld, strike me speechless.
_Young Fash._ Why you know my Modesty wou'd have starv'd me; I sent it
a-begging to you, and you wou'd not give it a Groat.
_Lord Fop._ And dost thau expect by an excess of Assurance to extart a
Maintenance fram me?
_Young Fash._ [_Taking Miss by the Hand._] I do intend to extort your
Mistress from you, and that I hope will prove one.
_Lord Fop._ I ever thaught _Newgate_ or _Bedlam_ wou'd be his Fartune,
and naw his Fate's decided. Pr'ythee, _Loveless_, dost knaw of ever a
Mad Doctor hard by?
_Young Fash._ There's one at your Elbow will cure you presently.
_To Bull._ Pr'ythee, Doctor, take him in hand quickly.
_Lord Fop._ Shall I beg the Favour of you, Sir, to pull your Fingers
out of my Wife's Hand?
_Young Fash._ His Wife! Look you there; now I hope you are all
satisfy'd he's mad.
_Lord Fop._ Naw is it not impassible far me to penetrate what Species
of Fally it is thou art driving at?
_Sir Tun._ Here, here, here, let me beat out his Brains, and that will
decide all.
_Lord Fop._ No, pray, Sir, hold, we'll destray him presently according
to Law.
_Young Fash._ [_To_ Bull.] Nay, then advance, Doctor: come, you are a
Man of Conscience, answer boldly to the Questions I shall ask: Did not
you marry me to this young Lady, before ever that Gentleman there saw
her Face?
_Bull._ Since the Truth must out, I did.
_Young Fash._ Nurse, sweet Nurse, were not you a Witness to it?
_Nurse._ Since my Conscience bids me speak----I was.
_Young Fash._ [_To Miss._] Madam, am not I your lawful Husband?
_Miss._ Truly I can't tell, but you married me first.
_Young Fash._ Now I hope you are all satisfy'd?
Sir _Tun._ [_Offering to strike him, is held by ~Lov~. and ~Wor~._]
Oons and Thunder, you lye.
_Lord Fop._ Pray, Sir, be calm, the Battle is in Disarder, but requires
more Canduct than Courage to rally our Forces. Pray, Dactar, one word
with you.
_To_ Bull [_Aside._] Look you, Sir, tho' I will not presume to
calculate your Notions of Damnation, fram the Description you give
us of Hell, yet since there is at least a passibility you may have a
Pitchfark thrust in your Backside, methinks, it shou'd not be worth
your while to risk your Saul in the next Warld, for the sake of a
beggarly yaunger Brather, who is nat able to make your Bady happy in
this.
_Bull._ Alas! my Lord, I have no worldly Ends; I speak the Truth,
Heaven knows.
_Lord Fop._ Nay, pr'ythee, never engage Heaven in the matter; far, by
all I can see, 'tis like to prove a Business for the Devil.
_Young Fash._ Come, pray, Sir, all above-board, no corrupting of
Evidences; if you please, this young Lady is my lawful Wife, and I'll
justify it in all the Courts of _England_; so your Lordship (who always
had a Passion for Variety) may go seek a new Mistress, if you think fit.
_Lord Fop._ I am struck dumb with his Impudence, and cannot passitively
tell whether ever I shall speak again, or nat.
Sir _Tun._ Then let me come and examine the Business a little, I'll
jerk the Truth out of 'em presently; here, give me my Dog-Whip.
_Young Fash._ Look you, old Gentleman, 'tis in vain to make a Noise;
if you grow mutinous, I have some Friends within Call, have Swords by
their Sides, above four Foot long; therefore be calm, hear the Evidence
patiently, and when the Jury have given their Verdict, pass Sentence
according to Law: Here's honest _Coupler_ shall be Foreman, and ask as
many Questions as he pleases.
_Coup._ All I have to ask is, whether Nurse persists in her Evidence?
The Parson, I dare swear, will never flinch from his.
_Nurse._ [_To Sir ~Tun~. kneeling._] I hope in Heaven your Worship will
pardon me; I have served you long and faithfully, but in this thing I
was over-reach'd; your Worship, however, was deceiv'd as, well as I;
and if the Wedding-Dinner had been ready, you had put Madam to Bed with
him with your own Hands.
Sir _Tun._ But how durst you do this, without acquainting of me?
_Nurse._ Alas! if your Worship had seen how the poor Thing begg'd, and
pray'd, and clung, and twin'd about me, like Ivy to an old Wall, you
wou'd say, I who had suckled it, and swaddled it, and nurst it both wet
and dry, must have had a Heart of Adamant to refuse it.
Sir _Tun._ Very well.
_Young Fash._ Foreman, I expect your Verdict.
_Coup._ Ladies and Gentlemen, what's your Opinions?
_All._ A clear Case, a clear Case.
_Coup._ Then, my young Folks, I wish you Joy.
Sir _Tun._ [_To_ Young Fash.] Come hither, Stripling; if it be true,
then, that thou hast marry'd my Daughter, pr'ythee tell me who thou art?
_Young Fash._ Sir, the best of my Condition is, I am your Son-in-law;
and the worst of it is, I am Brother to that Noble Peer there.
Sir _Tun._ Art thou Brother to that Noble Peer----Why then, that Noble
Peer, and thee, and thy Wife, and the Nurse, and the Priest----may all
go and be damn'd together.
[_Exit Sir ~Tun~._
_Lord Fop._ [_Aside._] Naw, for my part, I think the wisest thing a Man
can do with an aking Heart, is to put on a serene Countenance; for a
Philosaphical Air is the most becoming thing in the Warld to the Face
of a Person of Quality; I will therefore bear my Disgrace like a Great
Man, and let the People see I am above an Affrant. [_To_ Young Fash.]
Dear _Tam_, since Things are thus fallen aut, pr'ythee give me leave to
wish thee Jay. I do it _de bon Cœur_, strike me dumb: you have marry'd
a Woman beautiful in her Person, charming in her Airs, prudent in her
Canduct, canstant in her Inclinations, and of a nice Marality, split my
Wind-pipe.
_Young Fash._ Your Lardship may keep up your Spirits with your Grimace,
if you please; I shall support mine with this Lady, and two thousand
Pound a-year.
_Taking Miss._] Come, Madam:
We once again, you see, are Man and Wife,
And now, perhaps, the Bargain's struck for Life:
If I mistake, and we shou'd part again.
At least you see you may have choice of Men:
Nay, shou'd the War at length such Havock make,
That Lovers shou'd grow scarce, yet for your sake,
Kind Heaven always will preserve a Beau--
_Pointing to_ Lord Fop.] You'll find his Lordship ready to come to. }
}
_Lord Fop._ Her Ladyship shall stap my Vitals, if I do. }
[Illustration]
EPILOGUE,
Spoken by
Lord =Foppington=.
Gentlemen and Ladies,