usually leaves the deepest Impression.
_Enter ~Esop~; they stand some Time without speaking._
_Esop._--They say, That Lovers, for want of Words, have Eyes to speak
with. I'm afraid you do not understand the Language of mine, since
yours, I find, will make no Answer to 'em. But I must tell you, Lady,
there is a numerous Train of youthful Virgins, that are endow'd with
Wealth and Beauty too, who yet have thought it worth their Pains and
Care to point their Darts at _Esop_'s homely Breast; whilst you so much
contemn what they pursue, that a young senseless Fop's preferr'd before
me.
_Euph._ Did you but know that Fop you dare to term so, his very Looks
wou'd fright you into nothing.
_Esop._ A very Bauble.
_Euph._ How!
_Esop._ A Butterfly.
_Euph._ I can't bear it.
_Esop._ A Parroquet can prattle and look gaudy.
_Euph._ It may be so; but let me paint him and you in your proper
Colours, I'll do it exactly, and you shall judge which I ought to chuse.
_Esop._ No, hold; I'm naturally not over-curious; besides, 'tis Pride
makes People have their Pictures drawn.
_Euph._ Upon my Word, Sir, you may have yours taken a hundred times
before any Body will believe 'tis done upon that Account.
_Esop._ [_Aside._] How severe she is upon me! You are resolv'd then to
persist, and be fond of your Feather; sigh for a Perriwig, and die for
a Cravat string.
_Euph._ Methinks, Sir, you might treat with more respect what I've
thought fit to own I value; your Affronts to him are doubly such to me;
if you continue your provoking Language, you must expect my Tongue will
sally too; and if you are as wise as some would make you, you can't but
know I shou'd have Theme enough.
_Esop._ But is it possible you can love so much as you pretend?
_Euph._ Why do you question it?
_Esop._ Because Nobody loves so much as they pretend: But hark you,
young Lady: Marriage is to last a long, long Time; and where one Couple
bless the sacred Knot, a Train of Wretches curse the Institution. You
are in an Age where Hearts are young and tender; a pleasing Object gets
Admittance soon. But since to Marriage there's annexed this dreadful
Word, _For ever_, the following Example ought to move you:
_A Peacock once, of splendid show,
Gay, gaudy, foppish, vain----a Beau,
Attack'd a fond young Pheasant's Heart
With such Success,
He pleas'd her, tho' he made her smart;
He pierc'd her with so much Address,
She smil'd the Moment that he fixt his Dart.
A Cuckow in a neighbouring Tree,
Rich, honest, ugly, old----like me,
Lov'd her as he lov'd his Life:
No pamper'd Priest e'er study'd more
To make a virtuous Nun a Whore,
Than he to get her for his Wife:
But all his Offers still were vain,
His Limbs were weak, his Face was plain;
Beauty, Youth, and Vigour weigh'd
With the warm desiring Maid:
No Bird, she cry'd, wou'd serve her turn,
But what cou'd quench as well as burn;
She'd have a young Gallant: so one she had.
But 'ere a Month was come and gone, }
The Bride began to change her tone, }
She found a young Gallant was an inconstant one. }
She wander'd to a neighbouring Grove,
Where after musing long on Love,
She told her Confidant, she found,
When for one's Life one must be bound,
(Tho' Youth indeed was a delicious Bait)
An aged Husband, rich, tho' plain, }
Wou'd give a slavish Wife less Pain; }
And, what was more, was sooner slain, }
Which was a Thing of Weight._
Behold, young Lady, here, the Cuckow of the Fable; I'm deform'd, 'tis
true, yet I have found the Means to make a Figure amongst Men, that
well has recompens'd the Wrongs of Nature; my Rival's Beauty promises
you much; perhaps my homely Form might yield you more; at least,
consider on't, 'tis worth your Thought.
_Euph._ I must confess, my Fortune wou'd be greater;
But what's a Fortune to a Heart like mine?
'Tis true, I'm but a young Philosopher,
Yet in that little Space my Glass has run,
I've spent some Time in search of Happiness:
The fond Pursuit I soon observ'd of Riches,
Inclin'd me to enquire into their Worth:
I found their Value was not in themselves,
But in their Power to grant what we cou'd ask.
I then proceeded to my own Desires,
To know what State of Life wou'd suit with them:
I found 'em moderate in their Demands,
They neither ask'd for Title, State, or Power:
They slighted the aspiring Post of Envy:
'Tis true, they trembled at the Name Contempt;
A general Esteem was all they wish'd;
And that I did not doubt might be obtain'd,
If furnish'd but with Virtue and Good-nature;
My Fortune prov'd sufficient to afford me
Conveniences of Life, and Independence.
This, Sir, was the Result of my Enquiry;
And by this Scheme of Happiness I build,
When I prefer the Man I love to you.
_Esop._ How wise, how witty, and how cleanly, young Women grow, as soon
as ever they are in love!
_Euph._ How foppish, how impertinent, and how nauseous are old Men,
when they pretend to be so too!
_Esop._ How pert is Youth!
_Euph._ How dull is Age!
_Esop._ Why so sharp, young Lady?
_Euph._ Why so blunt, old Gentleman?
_Esop._ 'Tis enough; I'll to your Father, I know how to deal with
him, though I don't know how to deal with you. Before to-morrow Noon,
Damsel, Wife shall be written on your Brow.
[_Exit ~Esop~._
_Euph._ Then before to-morrow Night, Statesman, Husband shall be stampt
upon your Forehead.
[_Exit ~Euph~._
[Illustration]
+ACT+ IV.
_Enter ~Oronces~ and ~Doris~._
_Dor._ Patience, I beseech you.
_Oron._ Patience! What, and see that lovely Creature thrown into the
Arms of that pedantick Monster! 'Sdeath, I'd rather see the World
reduc'd to A'toms, Mankind turn'd into Crawfish, and myself an old
Woman.
_Dor._ So you think an old Woman a very unfortunate thing, I find;
but you are mistaken, Sir; she may plague other Folks, but she's as
entertaining to herself, as any one Part of the Creation.
_Oron._ [_Walking to and fro._] She's the Devil----and I'm one of the
damn'd, I think. But I'll make somebody howl for't; I will so.
_Dor._ You'll e'en do as all the young Fellows in the Town do, spoil
your own Sport: Ah----had young Mens Shoulders but old Courtiers Heads
upon 'em, what a delicious Time wou'd they have on't! For shame, be
wise; for your Mistress's sake at least use some Caution.
_Oron._ For her sake I'll respect, even like a Deity, her Father. He
shall strike me, he shall tread upon me, and find me humbler even
than a crawling Worm, for I'll not turn again; but for _Esop_, that
unfinish'd Lump, that Chaos of Humanity, I'll use him----nay, expect
it, for I'll do it----the first Moment that I'll see him, I'll----
_Dor._ Not challenge him, I hope----'Twould be a pretty sight, truly,
to see _Esop_ drawn up in Battalia! Fye for shame, be wise once in your
Life; think of gaining Time, by putting off the Marriage for a Day or
two, and not of waging War with a Pigmy. Yonder's the old Gentleman
walking by himself in the Gallery; go and wheedle him, you know his
weak side; he's good-natur'd in the bottom. Stir up his old fatherly
Bowels a little, I'll warrant you'll move him at last: go, get you
gone, and play your Part discreetly.
_Oron._ Well, I'll try; but if Words won't do with one, Blows shall
with t'other; by Heavens, they shall.
[_Exit. ~Oron~._
_Doris ~sola~._
Nay, I reckon we shall have rare work on't bye and bye. Shield us, kind
Heaven! what Things are Men in love? Now they are Stocks and Stones;
then they are Fire and Quick-silver; first whining and crying, then
swearing and damning: This Moment they are in Love, and next Moment
they are out of Love: Ah--cou'd we but live without 'em--but 'tis in
vain to think on't.
[_Exit._
_Enter ~Esop~ at one side of the Stage, Mrs. ~Forge-will~
at t'other._
_Forg._ Sir, I'm your most devoted Servant! What I say is no
Compliment, I do assure you.
_Esop._ Madam, as far as you are really mine, I believe I may venture
to assure you, I am yours.
_Forg._ I suppose, Sir, you know that I'm a Widow.
_Esop._ Madam, I don't so much as know you are a Woman.
_Forg._ O surprizing! Why, I thought the whole Town had known it. Sir,
I have been a Widow this Twelvemonth.
_Esop._ If a Body may guess at your Heart by your Petticoat, Lady, you
don't design to be so a Twelvemonth more.
_Forg._ O bless me! Not a Twelvemonth! Why, my Husband has left me four
squalling Brats. Besides, Sir, I'm undone.
_Esop._ You seem as chearful an undone Lady as I have met with.
_Forg._ Alas, Sir, I have too great a Spirit ever to let Afflictions
spoil my Face. Sir, I'll tell you my Condition; and that will lead me
to my Business with you. Sir, my Husband was a Scriviner.
_Esop._ The deuce he was: I thought he had been a Count, at least.
_Forg._ Sir, it is not the first Time I have been taken for a Countess;
my Mother us'd to say, as I lay in my Cradle, I had the Air of a Woman
of Quality; and truly I have always liv'd like such. My Husband,
indeed, had something sneaking in him (as most Husbands have, you know,
Sir); but, from the Moment I set Foot in his House, bless me, what a
Change was there! His Pewter was turn'd into Silver, his Goloshoes into
a Glass Coach, and his little travelling Mare into a Pair of _Flanders_
Horses. Instead of a greasy Cook-maid to wait at Table, I had four tall
Footmen in clean Linen; all Things became new and fashionable, and
nothing look'd aukward in my Family. My Furniture was the Wonder of my
Neighbourhood, and my Clothes the Admiration of the whole Town; I had
a Necklace that was envy'd by the Queen, and a Pair of Pendants that
set a Dutchess a-crying. In a Word, I saw nothing I lik'd but I bought
it; and my Husband, good Man, durst ne'er refuse paying for't. Thus I
liv'd, and I flourish'd, till he sicken'd and dy'd: but ere he was cold
in his Grave, his Creditors plunder'd my House. But, what pity it was
to see Fellows with dirty Shoes come into my best Rooms, and touch my
Hangings with their filthy Fingers! You won't blame me, Sir, if, with
all my Courage, I weep at this sensible Part of my Misfortune.
_Esop._ A very sad Story, truly!
_Forg._ But now, Sir, to my Business. Having been inform'd this
Morning, That the King has appointed a great Sum of Money for the
Marriage of young Women who have liv'd well, and are fallen to decay,
I am come to acquaint you I have two strapping Daughters, just fit for
the Matter, and to desire you'll help 'em to Portions out of the King's
Bounty; that they mayn't whine and pine, and be eaten up with the
Green-sickness, as half the young Women in the Town are, or wou'd be,
if there were not more Helps for the Disease than one. This, Sir, is my
Business.
_Esop._ And this, Madam, is my Answer:
_A crawling Toad, all speckled o'er,
Vain, gaudy, painted, patch'd----a Whore,
Seeing a well-fed Ox hard by,
Regards him with an envious Eye,
And (as the Poets tell)
Ye Gods, I cannot bear't, quoth she,
I'll burst, or be as big as he,
And so began to swell.
Her Friends and Kindred round her came,
They shew'd her she was much to blame,
The Thing was out of reach.
She told 'em they were busy Folk,
And when her Husband wou'd have spoke,
She bid him kiss her Br----.
With that they all e'en gave her o'er,
And she persisted as before,
Till with a deal of Strife
She swell'd at last so much her Spleen,
She burst like one that we have seen,
Who was a Scrivener's Wife._
This, Widow, I take to be your Case, and that of a great many others;
for this is an Age where most People get Falls, by clambering too
high, to reach at what they should not do. The Shoemaker's Wife
reduces her Husband to a Cobler, by endeavouring to be as spruce as
the Taylor's: The Taylor's brings hers to a Botcher, by going as fine
as the Mercer's: The Mercer's lowers hers to a Foreman, by perking up
to the Merchant's: The Merchant's wears hers to a Broker, by strutting
up to Quality: And Quality bring theirs to nothing, by striving to
out-do one another. If Women were humbler, Men wou'd be honester. Pride
brings Want, Want makes Rogues, Rogues come to be hang'd, and the Devil
alone's the Gainer. Go your ways home, Woman; and as your Husband
maintain'd you by his Pen, maintain yourself by your Needle; put your
great Girls to service, Imployment will keep them honest; much Work and
plain Diet will cure the Green-Sickness as well as a Husband----
_Forg._ Why, you pityful Pigmy; preaching, canting, Pickthank; you
little, sorry, crooked, dry, wither'd Eunuch, do you know that----
_Esop._ I know that I'm so deform'd you han't Wit enough to describe
me: But I have this good Quality, That a foolish Woman can never make
me angry.
_Forg._ Can't she so? I'll try that, I will.
[_She falls
upon him, holds his Hands, and boxes his Ears._
_Esop._ Help, help, help.
_Enter Servants. She runs off, they after her._
_Esop._ Nay, e'en let her go----let her go----don't bring her back
again----I'm for making a Bridge of Gold for my Enemy to retreat
upon----I'm quite out of Breath----A terrible Woman, I protest.
_Enter a Country Gentleman drunk, in a hunting Dress,
with a Huntsman, Groom, Falconer, and other Servants;
one leading a couple of Hounds, another Grey-Hounds,
a third a Spaniel, a fourth a Gun upon his
Shoulder, the Falconer a Hawk upon his Fist, ~&c.~_
_Gent._ Haux, haux, haux, haux, haux! Joular, there Boy, Joular,
Joular, Tinker, Pedlar, Miss, Miss, Miss, Miss, Miss--Blood and Oons--O
there he is; that must be he, I have seen his Picture [_Reeling upon_
Esop].--Sir,--if your Name's _Esop_--I'm your humble Servant.
_Esop._ Sir, my Name is _Esop_, at your Service.
_Gent._ Why then, Sir--Compliments being past on both sides, with your
leave--we'll proceed to Business. Sir, I'm by Profession--a Gentleman
of--three thousand Pounds a Year--Sir, I keep a good Pack of Hounds,
a good Stable of Horses. [_To his Groom._] How many Horses have I,
Sirrah?--Sir, this is my Groom.
[_Presenting him to ~Esop~._
_Groom._ Your Worship has six Coach-horses, (Cut and Long-Tail) two
Runners, half a dozen Hunters, four breeding Mares, and two blind
Stallions, besides Pads, Routs, and Dog-Horses.
_Gent._ Look you there, Sir, I scorn to tell a Lye. He that questions
my Honour--he's a Son of a Whore. But to Business--Having heard,
Sir, that you were come to this Town, I have taken the Pains to come
hither too, tho' I had a great deal of Business upon my Hands, for I
have appointed three _Justices of the Peace_ to hunt with 'em this
Morning----and be drunk with 'em in the Afternoon. But the main Chance
must be look'd to--and that's this----I desire, Sir, you'll tell the
King from me--I don't like these Taxes--in one Word, as well as in
twenty--I don't like these Taxes.
_Esop._ Pray, Sir, how high may you be tax'd?
_Gent._ How high may I be tax'd, Sir! Why I may be tax'd, Sir--four
Shillings in the Pound, Sir; one half I pay in Money--and t'other half
I pay in Perjury, Sir: Hey, Joular, Joular, Joular. Haux, haux, haux,
haux, haux. Hoo, hoo----Here's the best Hound-bitch in _Europe_----Oons
is she. And I had rather kiss her than kiss my Wife----Rot me if I had
not----But, Sir, I don't like these Taxes.
_Esop._ Why how wou'd you have the War carry'd on?
_Gent._ War carried on, Sir!----Why, I had rather have no War carried
on at all, Sir, than pay Taxes. I don't desire to be ruin'd, Sir.
_Esop._ Why you say, you have three thousand Pounds a Year.
_Gent._ And so I have, Sir----_Lett-Acre!_----Sir, this is my Steward.
How much Land have I, _Lett-Acre_?
_Lett-Acre._ Your Worship has three thausand Paunds a Year, as good
Lond as any's i'th' Caunty; and two thausand Paunds worth of Wood to
cut dawne at your Worship's Pleasure, and put the Money in your Pocket.
_Gent._ Look you there, Sir, what have you to say to that?
_Esop._ I have to say, Sir, that you may pay your Taxes in Money,
instead of Perjury, and still have a better Revenue than I'm afraid you
deserve. What Service do you do your King, Sir?
_Gent._ None at all, Sir--I'm above it.
_Esop._ What Service may you do your Country, pray?
_Gent._ I'm Justice of the Peace----and Captain of the Militia.
_Esop._ Of what use are you to your Kindred?
_Gent._ I'm the Head of the Family, and have all the Estate.
_Esop._ What Good do you do your Neighbours?
_Gent._ I give them their Bellies full of Beef every time they come to
see me; and make 'em so drunk, they spew it up again before they go
away.
_Esop._ How do you use your Tenants?
_Gent._ Why, I skrew up their Rents till they break and run away, and
if I catch 'em again, I let 'em rot in a Gaol.
_Esop._ How do you treat your Wife?
_Gent._ I treat her all Day with Ill-nature and Tobacco, and all Night
with snoring and a dirty Shirt.
_Esop._ How do you breed your Children?
_Gent._ I breed my eldest Son----a Fool; my youngest breed themselves,
and my Daughters----have no Breeding at all.
_Esop._ 'Tis very well, Sir; I shall be sure to speak to the King of
you; or if you think fit to remonstrate to him, by way of Petition or
Address, how reasonable it may be to let Men of your Importance go
Scot-free, in the Time of a necessary War, I'll deliver it in Council,
and speak to it as I ought.
_Gent._ Why, Sir, I don't disapprove your Advice, but my Clerk is not
here, and I can't spell well.
_Esop._ You may get it writ at your leisure, and send it me. But
because you are not much used to draw up Addresses, perhaps; I'll tell
you in general what kind of one this ought to be.
* * * * *
_May it please your Majesty_----
_To the Gent._] You'll excuse me, if I don't know your Name and Title.
_Gent._ Sir _Polydorus Hogstye_, of _Beast-Hall_ in _Swine-County_.
_Esop._ Very well.
_May it please your Majesty; ~Polydorus Hogstye~, of ~Beast-hall~ in
~Swine-County~, most humbly represents, That he hates to pay Taxes,
the dreadful Consequences of 'em being inevitably these, That he must
retrench two Dishes in ten, where not above six of 'em are design'd for
Gluttony._
_Four Bottles out of twenty; where not above fifteen of 'em are for
Drunkenness._
_Six Horses out of thirty; of which not above twenty are kept for
State._
_And four Servants out of a Score; where one half do nothing but make
Work for t'other._
_To this deplorable Condition must your important Subject be reduc'd,
or forc'd to cut down his Timber, which he wou'd willingly persevere
against an ill run at Dice._
_And as to the Necessity of the War for the Security of the Kingdom,
he neither knows nor cares whether it be necessary or not._
_He concludes with his Prayers for your Majesty's Life, upon Condition
you will protect him and his Fox Hounds at Beast-Hall, without e'er a
Penny of Money._
_To the Gent._] This, Sir, I suppose, is much what you wou'd be at.
_Gent._ Exactly, Sir; I'll be sure to have one drawn up to the
self-same purpose: and next Fox-Hunting I'll engage half the Company
shall set their Hands to't. Sir, I am your----most devoted Servant; and
if you please to let me see you at _Beast-Hall_, here's my Huntsman,
_Houndsfoot_, will shew you a Fox shall lead you through so many Hedges
and Briars, you shall have no more Clothes on your Back in half an
Hour's Time--than you had----in the Womb of your Mother. Haux, haux,
haux, &c.
[_Exit shouting._
Esop. _O Tempora, O Mores!_
_Enter Mr. ~Fruitful~ and his Wife._
_Mr. Fruit._ Heavens preserve the noble _Esop_, grant him long Life and
happy Days.
_Mrs. Fruit._ And send him a fruitful Wife, with a hopeful Issue!
_Esop._ And what is it I'm to do for you, good People, to make you
amends for all these friendly Wishes?
_Mr. Fruit._ Sir, here's myself and my Wife--
_Mrs. Fruit._ Sir, here's I and my Husband--[_To her Husband._] Let
me speak in my turn, Goodman _Forward_. [_To ~Esop~._] Sir, here's I
and my Husband, I say, think we have as good Pretensions to the King's
Favour as ever a Lord in the Land.
_Esop._ If you have no better than some Lords in the Land, I hope you
won't expect much for your Service.
_Mr. Fruit._ An't please you, you shall be Judge yourself.
_Mrs. Fruit._ That's as he gives Sentence, Mr. _Littlewit_; who gave
you Power to come to a Reference? If he does not do us right, the
King himself shall; what's to be done here! [_To ~Esop~._] Sir, I'm
forc'd to correct my Husband a little; poor Man, he is not us'd to
Court-Business; but to give him his due, he's ready enough at some
Things: Sir, I have had twenty fine Children by him; fifteen of 'em are
alive, and alive like to be; five tall Daughters are wedded and bedded,
and ten proper Sons serve their King and their Country.
_Esop._ A goodly Company, upon my Word!
_Mrs. Fruit._ Would all Men take as much Pains for the peopling of the
Kingdom, we might tuck up our Aprons, and cry, A Fig for our Enemies;
but we have such a Parcel of Drones amongst us----Hold up your Head,
Husband----He's a little out of Countenance, Sir, because I chid
him; but the Man is a very good Man at the Bottom. But to come to my
Business, Sir, I hope his Majesty will think it reasonable to allow me
something for the Service I have done him; 'tis pity but Labour shou'd
be encourag'd, especially when what one has done, one has done't with a
Good-will.
_Esop._ What Profession are you of, good People?
_Mrs. Fruit._ My Husband's an Inn-keeper, Sir; he bears the Name, but I
govern the House.
_Esop._ And what Posts are your Sons in, in the Service?
_Mrs. Fruit._. Sir, there are four Monks.
_Mr. Fruit._ Three Attorneys.
_Mrs. Fruit._ Two Scriveners.
_Mr. Fruit._ And an Exciseman.
_Esop._ The deuce o'the Service; why, I thought they had been all in
the Army.
_Mrs. Fruit._ Not one, Sir.
_Esop._ No, so it seems, by my Troth: Ten Sons that serve their
Country, quotha! Monks, Attorneys, Scriveners and Excisemen, serve
their Country with a Vengeance: you deserve to be rewarded, truly; you
deserve to be hang'd, you wicked People, you. Get you gone out of my
sight: I never was so angry in my Life.
[_Exit ~Esop~._
_Mr. Fruit. to his Wife._] So; who's in the right now, you or I? I told
you what wou'd come on't; you must be always a Breeding, and Breeding,
and the King wou'd take Care of 'em, and the Queen wou'd take Care of
'em: And always some Pretence or other there was. But now we have got a
great Kennel of Whelps, and the Devil will take Care of 'em, for aught
I see. For your Sons are all Rogues, and your Daughters are all Whores;
you know they are.
_Mrs. Fruit._ What, you are a grudging of your Pains now, you lazy,
sluggish, flegmatick Drone. You have a Mind to die of a Lethargy, have
you? but I'll raise your Spirits for you, I will so. Get you gone home,
go; go home, you idle Sot, you; I'll raise your Spirits for you.
[_Exit, pushing him before her._
_Re-enter ~Esop~._
_Esop. solus._] Monks, Attorneys, Scriveners, and Excisemen!
_Enter ~Oronces~._
_Oron._ O here he is. Sir, I have been searching for you, to say two
Words to you.
_Esop._ And now you have found me, Sir, what are they?
_Oron._ They are, Sir----that my Name's Oronces: You comprehend me.
_Esop._ I comprehend your Name.
_Oron._ And not my Business?
_Esop._ Not I, by my Troth.
_Oron._ Then I shall endeavour to teach it you, Monsieur _Esop_.
_Esop._ And I to learn it, Monsieur _Oronces_.
_Oron._ Know, Sir----that I admire _Euphronia_.
_Esop._ Know, Sir----that you are in the right on't.
_Oron._ But I pretend, Sir, that Nobody else shall admire her.
_Esop._ Then I pretend, Sir, she won't admire you.
_Oron._ Why so, Sir?
_Esop._ Because, Sir----
_Oron._ What, Sir?
_Esop._ She's a Woman, Sir.
_Oron._ What then, Sir?
_Esop._ Why, then, Sir, she desires to be admir'd by every Man she
meets.
_Oron._ Sir, you are too familiar.
_Esop._ Sir, you are too haughty; I must soften that harsh Tone of
yours: It don't become you, Sir; it makes a Gentleman appear a Porter,
Sir: And that you may know the Use of good Language, I'll tell you what
once happen'd. _Once an a Time_----
_Oron._ I'll have none of your old Wives Fables, Sir, I have no Time to
lose; therefore, in a Word----
_Esop._ In a Word, be mild: For nothing else will do you Service. Good
Manners and soft Words have brought many a difficult Thing to pass.
Therefore hear me patiently.