_A Gallery in_ LADY BOUNTIFUL'S _House_.
_Enter_ ARCHER _and_ SCRUB, _singing, and hugging one another_; SCRUB
_with a Tankard in his Hand_--GIPSEY _listening at a Distance_.
Scrub. _Tal, all, dal_----Come, my dear boy, let us have that song
once more.
_Arch._ No, no, we shall disturb the family----But will you be sure to
keep the secret?
_Scrub._ Pho! upon my honour, as I'm a gentleman.
_Arch._ 'Tis enough----You must know then, that my master is the Lord
Viscount Aimwell: he fought a duel t'other day in London, wounded his
man so dangerously, that he thinks fit to withdraw, till he hears
whether the gentleman's wounds be mortal or not. He never was in this
part of England before, so he chose to retire to this place, that's all.
_Gip._ And, that's enough for me. [_Exit._
_Scrub._ And where were you, when your master fought?
_Arch._ We never know of our master's quarrels.
_Scrub._ No! if our masters in the country here receive a challenge, the
first thing they do, is to tell their wives; the wife tells the
servants, the servants alarm the tenants, and in half an hour, you shall
have the whole country up in arms.
_Arch._ To hinder two men from doing what they have no mind for.--But,
if you should chance to talk now of this business----
_Scrub._ Talk! Ah, sir, had I not learned the knack of holding my
tongue, I had never lived so long in a great family.
_Arch._ Ay, ay, to be sure, there are secrets in all families.
_Scrub._ Secrets, O lud!----But I'll say no more--Come, sit down, we'll
make an end of our tankard:--Here----
_Arch._ With all my heart; who knows but you and I may come to be better
acquainted, eh?----Here's your ladies' health--You have three, I think,
and to be sure there must be secrets among them?
_Scrub._ Secrets! ah, friend, friend! I wish I had a friend.
_Arch._ Am not I your friend? Come, you and I will be sworn brothers.
_Scrub._ Shall we?
_Arch._ From this minute--Give me a kiss----and now, brother Scrub----
_Scrub._ And now, brother Martin, I will tell you a secret, that will
make your hair stand on end.--You must know, that I am consumedly in
love.
_Arch._ That's a terrible secret, that's the truth on't.
_Scrub._ That jade, Gipsey, that was with us just now in the cellar, is
the arrantest whore that ever wore a petticoat, and I'm dying for love
of her.
_Arch._ Ha! ha! ha!--are you in love with her person or her virtue,
brother Scrub?
_Scrub._ I should like virtue best, because it is more durable than
beauty; for virtue holds good with some women long and many a day after
they have lost it.
_Arch._ In the country, I grant ye, where no woman's virtue is lost,
till a bastard be found.
_Scrub._ Ay, could I bring her to a bastard, I should have her all to
myself; but I dare not put it upon that lay, for fear of being sent for
a soldier.--Pray, brother, how do you gentlemen in London like that same
pressing act?
_Arch._ Very ill, brother Scrub;----'Tis the worst that ever was made
for us;--formerly I remembered the good days when we could dun our
masters for our wages, and if they refused to pay us, we could have a
warrant to carry them before a justice: but now if we talk of eating,
they have a warrant for us and carry us before three justices.
_Scrub._ And to be sure we go, if we talk of eating; for the
justices won't give their own servants a bad example. Now this is my
misfortune--I dare not speak in the house, while that jade, Gipsey,
dings about like a fury----once I had the better end of the staff.
_Arch._ And how comes the change now?
_Scrub._ Why, the mother of all this mischief is a priest.
_Arch._ A priest!
_Scrub._ Ay, a damn'd son of a whore of Babylon, that came over hither
to say grace to the French officers, and eat up our provisions--There's
not a day goes over his head without a dinner or supper in this house.
_Arch._ How came he so familiar in the family?
_Scrub._ Because he speaks English as if he had lived here all his life,
and tells lies as if he had been a traveller from his cradle.
_Arch._ And this priest, I'm afraid, has converted the affection of your
Gipsey.
_Scrub._ Converted! ay, and perverted, my dear friend--for, I'm afraid
he has made her a whore, and a papist--but this is not all; there's the
French count and Mrs. Sullen, they're in the confederacy, and for some
private ends of their own too, to be sure.
_Arch._ A very hopeful family yours, brother Scrub; I suppose the maiden
lady has her lover too?
_Scrub._ Not that I know--She's the best of them, that's the truth
on't: but they take care to prevent my curiosity, by giving me so much
business, that I'm a perfect slave--What d'ye think is my place in this
family?
_Arch._ Butler, I suppose.
_Scrub._ Ah, lord help you--I'll tell you--Of a Monday I drive the
coach, of a Tuesday I drive the plough, on Wednesday I follow the
hounds, a Thursday I dun the tenants, on Friday I go to market, on
Saturday I draw warrants, and a Sunday I draw beer.
_Arch._ Ha! ha! ha! if variety be a pleasure in life, you have enough
on't, my dear brother----but what ladies are those?
_Scrub._ Ours, ours; that upon the right hand is Mrs. Sullen, and the
other Mrs. Dorinda----don't mind them, sit still, man----
_Enter_ MRS. SULLEN _and_ DORINDA.
_Mrs. Sul._ I have heard my brother talk of Lord Aimwell, but they say
that his brother is the finer gentleman.
_Dor._ That's impossible, sister.
_Mrs. Sul._ He's vastly rich, and very close, they say.
_Dor._ No matter for that; if I can creep into his heart, I'll open his
breast, I warrant him: I have heard say, that people may be guessed at
by the behaviour of their servants; I could wish we might talk to that
fellow.
_Mrs. Sul._ So do I; for I think he's a very pretty fellow; come this
way, I'll throw out a lure for him presently.
[_They walk towards the opposite Side of the Stage_; MRS.
SULLEN _drops her Fan_, ARCHER _runs, takes it up, and gives
it to her_.
_Arch._ Corn, wine, and oil, indeed----but, I think the wife has the
greatest plenty of flesh and blood; she should be my choice--Ay, ay, say
you so--madam--your ladyship's fan.
_Mrs. Sul._ O, sir, I thank you--What a handsome bow the fellow made!
_Dor._ Bow! why I have known several footmen come down from London, set
up here for dancing masters, and carry off the best fortunes in the
country.
_Arch._ [_Aside._] That project, for aught I know, had been better than
ours----Brother Scrub, why don't you introduce me?
_Scrub._ Ladies, this is the strange gentleman's servant, that you saw
at church to-day: I understood he came from London, and so I invited him
to the cellar, that he might show me the newest flourish in whetting my
knives.
_Dor._ And I hope you have made much of him.
_Arch._ Oh, yes, madam, but the strength of your ladyship's liquor is a
little too potent for the constitution of your humble servant.
_Mrs. Sul._ What, then you don't usually drink ale?
_Arch._ No, madam, my constant drink is tea, or a little wine and water;
'tis prescribed me by the physician, for a remedy against the spleen--
_Scrub._ O la! O la!--A footman have the spleen!
_Mrs. Sul._ I thought that distemper had been only proper to people of
quality.
_Arch._ Madam, like all other fashions, it wears out, and so descends to
their servants; though in a great many of us, I believe it proceeds from
some melancholy particles in the blood, occasioned by the stagnation of
wages.
_Dor._ How affectedly the fellow talks----How long, pray, have you
served your present master?
_Arch._ Not long; my life has been mostly spent in the service of the
ladies.
_Mrs. Sul._ And pray, which service do you like best?
_Arch._ Madam, the ladies pay best; the honour of serving them is
sufficient wages; there is a charm in their looks, that delivers
a pleasure with their commands, and gives our duty the wings of
inclination.
_Mrs. Sul._ That flight was above the pitch of a livery; and, sir, would
not you be satisfied to serve a lady again?
_Arch._ As groom of the chambers, madam, but not as a footman.
_Mrs. Sul._ I suppose you served as footman before?
_Arch._ For that reason I would not serve in that post again; for my
memory is too weak for the load of messages that the ladies lay upon
their servants in London: my Lady Howd'ye, the last mistress I served,
called me up one morning, and told me, Martin, go to my Lady Allnight,
with my humble service; tell her, I was to wait on her ladyship
yesterday, and left word with Mrs. Rebecca, that the preliminaries of
the affair she knows of, are stopped till we know the concurrence of the
person that I know of; for which there are circumstances wanting which
we shall accommodate at the old place; but that in the mean time there
is a person about her ladyship, that, from several hints and surmises,
was accessary at a certain time to the disappointments that naturally
attend things, that to her knowledge are of more importance----
_Mrs. Sul._ }
Ha! ha! where are you going, sir?
_Dor._ }
_Arch._ Why, I han't half done----The whole howd'ye was about half an
hour long; so I happened to misplace two syllables, and, was turned off,
and rendered incapable----
_Dor._ The pleasantest fellow, sister, I ever saw.--But, friend, if your
master be married,----I presume you still serve a lady.
_Arch._ No, madam, I take care never to come into a married family; the
commands of the master and mistress are always so contrary, that 'tis
impossible to please both.
_Dor._ There's a main point gained----My lord is not married, I find.
[_Aside._
_Mrs. Sul._ But I wonder, friend, that in so many good services, you had
not a better provision made for you.
_Arch._ I don't know how, madam----I am very well as I am----
_Mrs. Sul._ Something for a pair of gloves. [_Offering him Money._
_Arch._ I humbly beg leave to be excused; my master, madam, pays me, nor
dare I take money from any other hand, without injuring his honour, and
disobeying his commands.
_Scrub._ Brother Martin, brother Martin.
_Arch._ What do you say, brother Scrub?
_Scrub._ Take the money, and give it to me. [_Exeunt_ ARCHER _and_ SCRUB.
_Dor._ This is surprising: did you ever see so pretty a well-bred
fellow?
_Mrs. Sul._ The devil take him, for wearing that livery.
_Dor._ I fancy, sister, he may be some gentleman, a friend of my lord's,
that his lordship has pitched upon for his courage, fidelity, and
discretion, to bear him company in this dress, and who, ten to one, was
his second.
_Mrs. Sul._ It is so, it must be so, and it shall be so--for I like him.
_Dor._ What! better than the count?
_Mrs. Sul._ The count happened to be the most agreeable man upon the
place; and so I chose him to serve me in my design upon my husband----But
I should like this fellow better in a design upon myself.
_Dor._ But now, sister, for an interview with this lord and this
gentleman; how shall we bring that about?
_Mrs. Sul._ Patience! you country ladies give no quarter.--Lookye,
Dorinda, if my Lord Aimwell loves you or deserves you, he'll find a way
to see you, and there we must leave it----My business comes now upon the
tapis,----Have you prepared your brother?
_Dor._ Yes, yes.
_Mrs. Sul._ And how did he relish it?
_Dor._ He said little, mumbled something to himself, and promised to be
guided by me: but here he comes.--
_Enter_ SULLEN.
_Sul._ What singing was that I heard just now?
_Mrs. Sul._ The singing in your head, my dear, you complained of it all
day.
_Sul._ You're impertinent.
_Mrs. Sul._ I was ever so, since I became one flesh with you.
_Sul._ One flesh! rather two carcases joined unnaturally together.
_Mrs. Sul._ Or rather a living soul coupled to a dead body.
_Dor._ So, this is fine encouragement for me!
_Sul._ Yes, my wife shows you what you must do!
_Mrs. Sul._ And my husband shows you what you must suffer.
_Sul._ 'Sdeath, why can't you be silent?
_Mrs. Sul._ 'Sdeath, why can't you talk?
_Sul._ Do you talk to any purpose?
_Mrs. Sul._ Do you think to any purpose?
_Sul._ Sister, harkye--[_Whispers._] I shan't be home till it be late.
[_Exit._
_Mrs. Sul._ What did he whisper to ye?
_Dor._ That he would go round the back way, come into the closet, and
listen, as I directed him.--But let me beg once more, dear sister, to
drop this project; for, as I told you before, instead of awaking him to
kindness, you may provoke him to rage; and then who knows how far his
brutality may carry him?
_Mrs. Sul._ I'm provided to receive him, I warrant you; away! [_Exeunt._
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
_A Gallery in_ LADY BOUNTIFUL'S _House_.
_Enter_ LADY BOUNTIFUL _and_ MRS. SULLEN, DORINDA _meeting them_.
_Dor._ News, dear sister, news, news!
_Enter_ ARCHER, _running_.
_Arch._ Where, where is my Lady Bountiful?----Pray which is the old lady
of you three?
_Lady B._ I am.
_Arch._ O madam, the fame of your ladyship's charity, goodness,
benevolence, skill, and ability, have drawn me hither, to implore your
ladyship's help in behalf of my unfortunate master, who is at this
moment breathing his last.
_Lady B._ Your master! where is he?
_Arch._ At your gate, madam: drawn by the appearance of your handsome
house, to view it nearer, and walking up the avenue, within five paces
of the courtyard, he was taken ill of a sudden, with a sort of I know
not what: but down he fell, and there he lies.
_Lady B._ Here, Scrub, Gipsey.
_Enter_ SCRUB _and_ GIPSEY.
All run, get my easy-chair down stairs, put the gentleman in it, and
bring him in quickly, quickly.
_Arch._ Heaven will reward your ladyship for this charitable act.
_Lady B._ Is your master used to these fits?
_Arch._ O yes, madam, frequently--I have known him have five or six of a
night.
_Lady B._ What's his name?
_Arch._ Lord, madam, he's dying; a minute's care or neglect may save or
destroy his life.
_Lady B._ Ah, poor gentleman! come, friend, show me the way; I'll see
him brought in myself. [_Exit with_ ARCHER.
_Dor._ Oh, sister, my heart flutters about strangely; I can hardly
forbear running to his assistance.
_Mrs. Sul._ And I'll lay my life he deserves your assistance more than
he wants it: did not I tell you that my lord would find a way to come
at you? Love's his distemper, and you must be the physician; put on
all your charms, summon all your fire into your eyes, plant the whole
artillery of your looks against his breast, and down with him.
_Dor._ O, sister, I'm but a young gunner, I shall be afraid to shoot,
for fear the piece should recoil, and hurt myself.
_Mrs. Sul._ Never fear, you shall see me shoot before you, if you will.
_Dor._ No, no, dear sister, you have missed your mark so unfortunately,
that I shan't care for being instructed by you.
_Enter_ AIMWELL, _in a Chair, carried by_ ARCHER _and_
SCRUB; LADY BOUNTIFUL, GIPSEY. AIMWELL _counterfeiting a
Swoon_.
_Lady B._ Here, here, let's see--the hartshorn drops--Gipsey, a glass
of fair water, his fit's very strong.--Bless me, how his hands are
clenched!
_Arch._ For shame, ladies, what d'ye do? why don't you help us?--Pray,
madam, [_To_ DORINDA.] take his hand, and open it, if you can, whilst I
hold his head. [DORINDA _takes his Hand_.
_Dor._ Poor gentleman--Oh--he has got my hand within his, and squeezes
it unmercifully----
_Lady B._ 'Tis the violence of his convulsion, child.
_Arch._ Oh, madam, he's perfectly possessed in these cases--he'll bite
you, if you don't have a care.
_Dor._ Oh, my hand, my hand!
_Lady B._ What's the matter with the foolish girl? I have got this hand
open you see with a great deal of ease.
_Arch._ Ay, but, madam, your daughter's hand is somewhat warmer than
your ladyship's, and the heat of it draws the force of the spirits that
way.
_Mrs. Sul._ I find, friend, you are very learned in these sort of fits.
_Arch._ 'Tis no wonder, madam, for I'm often troubled with them myself;
I find myself extremely ill at this minute. [_Looking hard at_ MRS.
SULLEN.
_Mrs. Sul._ [_Aside._] I fancy I could find a way to cure you.
_Lady B._ His fit holds him very long.
_Arch._ Longer than usual, madam.----
_Lady B._ Where did his illness take him first, pray!
_Arch._ To-day, at church, madam.
_Lady B._ In what manner was he taken?
_Arch._ Very strangely, my lady. He was of a sudden touched with
something in his eyes, which at the first he only felt, but could not
tell whether 'twas pain or pleasure.
_Lady B._ Wind, nothing but wind.----Your master should never go without
a bottle to smell to----Oh!----he recovers----the lavender water----some
feathers to burn under his nose--Hungary water to rub his temples----Oh,
he comes to himself. Hem a little, sir, hem----Gipsey, bring the cordial
water. [AIMWELL _seems to awake in amaze_.
_Dor._ How do you, sir?
_Aim._ Where am I? [_Rising._
Sure I have passed the gulf of silent death,
And now am landed on the Elysian shore.
Behold the goddess of those happy plains,
Fair Proserpine--let me adore thy bright divinity.
[_Kneels to_ DORINDA, _and kisses her Hand_.
_Mrs. Sul._ So, so, so; I knew where the fit would end.
_Aim._ Eurydice, perhaps----
How could thy Orpheus keep his word,
And not look back upon thee;
No treasure but thyself could sure have brib'd him
To look one minute off thee.
_Lady B._ Delirious, poor gentleman.
_Arch._ Very delirious, madam, very delirious.
_Aim._ Martin's voice, I think.
_Arch._ Yes, my lord--How does your lordship?
_Lady B._ Lord! did you mind that, girls?
_Aim._ Where am I?
_Arch._ In very good hands, sir--You were taken just now with one of
your old fits, under the trees, just by this good lady's house; her
ladyship had you taken in, and has miraculously brought you to yourself,
as you see----
_Aim._ I am so confounded with shame, madam, that I can now only beg
pardon----And refer my acknowledgments for your ladyship's care till an
opportunity offers of making some amends--I dare be no longer
troublesome--Martin, give two guineas to the servants. [_Going._
_Dor._ Sir, you may catch cold by going so soon into the air; you don't
look, sir, as if you were perfectly recovered.
[ARCHER _talks to_ LADY BOUNTIFUL _in dumb Show_.
_Aim._ That I shall never be, madam: my present illness is so rooted,
that I must expect to carry it to my grave.
_Lady B._ Come, sir, your servant has been telling me that you are apt
to relapse, if you go into the air--Your good manners shan't get the
better of ours--You shall sit down again, sir:--Come, sir, we don't mind
ceremonies in the country--Here, Gipsey, bring the cordial water.--Here,
sir, my service t'ye----You shall taste my water; 'tis a cordial, I can
assure you, and of my own making.
_Scrub._ Yes, my lady makes very good water.
_Lady B._ Drink it off, sir: [AIMWELL _drinks_.] And how d'ye find
yourself now, sir?
_Aim._ Somewhat better----though very faint still.
_Lady B._ Ay, ay, people are always faint after these fits. Come,
girls, you shall show the gentleman the house; 'tis but an old family
building, sir; but you had better walk about, and cool by degrees,
than venture immediately into the air----You'll find some tolerable
pictures--Dorinda, show the gentleman the way. I must go to the poor
woman below. [_Exit._
_Dor._ This way, sir.
_Aim._ Ladies, shall I beg leave for my servant to wait on you, for he
understands pictures very well.
_Mrs. Sul._ Sir, we understand originals, as well as he does pictures,
so he may come along.
[_Exeunt_ DORINDA _and_ AIMWELL, MRS. SULLEN _and_
ARCHER--SCRUB _sits down_.
_Enter_ FOIGARD.
_Foig._ 'Save you, master Scrub.
_Scrub._ Sir, I won't be saved your way----I hate a priest, I abhor the
French, and I defy the devil--Sir, I'm a bold Briton, and will spill the
last drop of my blood to keep out popery and slavery.
_Foig._ Master Scrub, you would put me down in politics, and so I would
be speaking with Mrs. Gipsey.
_Scrub._ Good Mr. Priest, you can't speak with her; she's sick, sir;
she's gone abroad, sir; she's--dead two months ago, sir.
_Enter_ GIPSEY.
_Gip._ How now, impudence! How dare you talk so saucily to the doctor?
Pray, sir, don't take it ill; for the common people of England are not
so civil to strangers, as----
_Scrub._ You lie, you lie:--'tis the common people, such as you are,
that are civilest to strangers.
_Gip._ Sirrah, I have a good mind to--Get you out, I say!
_Scrub._ I won't!
_Gip._ You won't, sauce-box!--Pray, doctor, what is the captain's name
that came to your inn last night?
_Scrub._ The captain! ah, the devil, there she hampers me again;--the
captain has me on one side, and the priest on t'other:--So between the
gown and the sword, I have a fine time on't.
_Gip._ What, sirrah, won't you march?
_Scrub._ No, my dear, I won't march--but I'll walk:--And I'll make bold
to listen a little too. [_Goes behind the Side Scene, and listens._
_Gip._ Indeed, doctor, the count has been barbarously treated, that's
the truth on't.
_Foig._ Ah, Mrs. Gipsey, upon my shoul, now, gra, his complainings would
mollify the marrow in your bones, and move the bowels of your
commiseration; he veeps, and he dances, and he fistles, and he swears,
and he laughs, and he stamps, and he sings: in conclusion, joy, he's
afflicted, _a la Francois_, and a stranger, would not know whider to cry
or to laugh with him.
_Gip._ What would you have me do, doctor?
_Foig._ Nothing, joy, but only hide the count in Mrs. Sullen's closet,
when it is dark.
_Gip._ Nothing! Is that nothing? it would be both a sin and a shame,
doctor.
_Foig._ Here is twenty Louis d'ors, joy, for your shame; and I will give
you an absolution for the shin.
_Gip._ But won't that money look like a bribe?
_Foig._ Dat is according as you shall take it--If you receive the
money before hand, 'twill be _logice_, a bribe; but if you stay till
afterwards, 'twill be only a gratification.
_Gip._ Well, doctor, I'll take it _logice_----But what must I do with my
conscience, sir?
_Foig._ Leave dat wid me, joy; I am your priest, gra; and your conscience
is under my hands.
_Gip._ But should I put the count into the closet--
_Foig._ Vell, is dere any shin for a man's being in a closhet? one may
go to prayers in a closhet.
_Gip._ But if the lady should come into her chamber and go to bed?
_Foig._ Vel, and is dere any shin in going to bed, joy?
_Gip._ Ah, but if the parties should meet, doctor?
_Foig._ Vel den----the parties must be responsible.--Do you begone after
putting the count in the closhet; and leave the shins wid themselves--I
will come with the count to instruct you in your chamber.
_Gip._ Well, doctor, your religion is so pure, that I'm resolved to die
a martyr to't----Here's the key of the garden door; come in the back
way, when 'tis late--I'll be ready to receive you; but don't so much as
whisper, only take hold of my hand; I'll lead you, and do you lead the
count, and follow me. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ SCRUB.
_Scrub._ What witchcraft now have these two imps of the devil been
a-hatching here?--There's twenty Louis d'ors! I heard that, and saw the
purse: but I must give room to my betters. [_Exit._
_Enter_ AIMWELL, _leading_ DORINDA, _and making love in dumb
Show_; MRS. SULLEN, _and_ ARCHER.
_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sir, [_To_ ARCHER.] how d'ye like that piece?
_Arch._ O, 'tis Leda--You find, madam, how Jupiter came disguised to
make love--
_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sir, what head is that in the corner, there?
_Arch._ O, madam, 'tis poor Ovid in his exile.
_Mrs. Sul._ What was he banished for?
_Arch._ His ambitious love, madam. [_Bowing._] His misfortune touches
me.
_Mrs. Sul._ Was he successful in his amours?
_Arch._ There he has left us in the dark--He was too much a gentleman to
tell.
_Mrs. Sul._ If he were secret, I pity him.
_Arch._ And if he were successful I envy him.
_Mrs. Sul._ How d'ye like that Venus over the chimney?
_Arch._ Venus! I protest, madam, I took it for your picture: but now I
look again, 'tis not handsome enough.
_Mrs. Sul._ Oh, what a charm is flattery! if you would see my picture,
there it is, over that cabinet--How d'ye like it?
_Arch._ I must admire any thing, madam, that has the least resemblance
of you----But methinks, madam,--[_He looks at the Picture and_ MRS.
SULLEN _Three or Four Times, by Turns_.] Pray, madam, who drew it?
_Mrs. Sul._ A famous hand, sir. [_Exeunt_ AIMWELL _and_ DORINDA.
_Arch._ A famous hand, madam! Your eyes, indeed, are featured there; but
where's the sparkling moisture, shining fluid, in which they swim? The
picture, indeed, has your dimples, but where's the swarm of killing
Cupids, that should ambush there? The lips too are figured out; but
where's the carnation dew, the pouting ripeness that tempts the taste in
the original?
_Mrs. Sul._ Had it been my lot to have matched with such a man! [_Aside._
_Arch._ Your breasts too; presumptuous man! what! paint heaven! Apropos,
madam, in the very next picture is Salmoneus, that was struck dead with
lightning, for offering to imitate Jove's thunder; I hope you served the
painter so, madam.
_Mrs. Sul._ Had my eyes the power of thunder, they should employ their
lightning better.
_Arch._ There's the finest bed in that room, madam; I suppose 'tis your
ladyship's bedchamber?
_Mrs. Sul._ And what then, sir?
_Arch._ I think the quilt is the richest that ever I saw----I can't at
this distance, madam, distinguish the figures of the embroidery: will
you give me leave, madam?
_Mrs. Sul._ The devil take his impudence--Sure, if I gave him an
opportunity, he durst not offer it--I have a great mind to try.--[_Going.
--Returns._] 'Sdeath, what am I doing?--And alone too;----Sister, sister!
[_Exit._
_Arch._ I'll follow her close----
For where a Frenchman durst attempt to storm,
A Briton, sure may well the work perform. [_Going._
_Enter_ SCRUB.
_Scrub._ Martin, brother Martin!
_Arch._ O brother Scrub, I beg your pardon, I was not a-going: here's a
guinea my master ordered you.
_Scrub._ A guinea! hi, hi, hi, a guinea! eh----by this light it is a
guinea; but I suppose you expect one and twenty shillings in change.
_Arch._ Not at all; I have another for Gipsey.
_Scrub._ A guinea for her! Fire and faggot for the witch.----Sir, give
me that guinea, and I'll discover a plot.
_Arch._ A plot?
_Scrub._ Ay, sir, a plot, a horrid plot--First, it must be a plot,
because there's a woman in't: secondly, it must be a plot, because
there's a priest in't: thirdly, it must be a plot, because there's
French gold in't: and fourthly, it must be a plot, because I don't know
what to make on't.
_Arch._ Nor any body else, I'm afraid, brother Scrub.
_Scrub._ Truly I'm afraid so too; for where there's a priest and a
woman, there's always a mystery and a riddle--This, I know, that here
has been the doctor with a temptation in one hand, and an absolution in
the other, and Gipsey has sold herself to the devil; I saw the price
paid down, my eyes shall take their oath on't.
_Arch._ And is all this bustle about Gipsey?
_Scrub._ That's not all; I could hear but a word here and there; but I
remember they mentioned a count, a closet, a back door, and a key.
_Arch._ The count! did you hear nothing of Mrs. Sullen?
_Scrub._ I did hear some word that sounded that way: but whether it was
Sullen or Dorinda I could not distinguish.
_Arch._ You have told this matter to nobody, brother?
_Scrub._ Told! no, sir, I thank you for that; I'm resolved never to
speak one word, _pro_ nor _con_, till we have a peace.
_Arch._ You are i'the right, brother Scrub; here's a treaty a-foot
between the count and the lady.--The priest and the chambermaid are
plenipotentiaries----It shall go hard, but I'll find a way to be
included in the treaty. Where's the doctor now?
_Scrub._ He and Gipsey are this moment devouring my lady's marmalade in
the closet.
_Aim._ [_From without._] Martin, Martin!
_Arch._ I come, sir, I come.
_Scrub._ But you forget the other guinea, brother Martin.
_Arch._ Here, I give it with all my heart. [_Exit_ ARCHER.
_Scrub._ And I take it with all my soul. I'cod, I'll spoil your
plotting, Mrs. Gipsey; and if you should set the captain upon me, these
two guineas will buy me off. [_Exit_ SCRUB.
_Enter_ MRS. SULLEN _and_ DORINDA, _meeting_.
_Mrs. Sul._ Well, sister.
_Dor._ And well, sister.
_Mrs. Sul._ What's become of my lord?
_Dor._ What's become of his servant?
_Mrs. Sul._ Servant! he's a prettier fellow and a finer gentleman by
fifty degrees than his master.
_Dor._ O' my conscience, I fancy you could beg that fellow at the
gallows' foot.
_Mrs. Sul._ O' my conscience, I could, provided I could put a friend of
yours in his room.
_Dor._ You desired me, sister, to leave you, when you transgressed the
bounds of honour.
_Mrs. Sul._ Thou dear censorious country girl--What dost mean? You can't
think of the man without the bedfellow, I find.
_Dor._ I don't find any thing unnatural in that thought.
_Mrs. Sul._ How a little love and conversation improve a woman! Why,
child, you begin to live--you never spoke before.
_Dor._ Because I was never spoke to before: my lord has told me, that I
have more wit and beauty than any of my sex; and truly I begin to think
the man is sincere.
_Mrs. Sul._ You are in the right, Dorinda; pride is the life of a woman,
and flattery is our daily bread--But I'll lay you a guinea that I had
finer things said to me than you had.
_Dor._ Done----What did your fellow say to ye?
_Mrs. Sul._ My fellow took the picture of Venus for mine.
_Dor._ But my lover took me for Venus herself.
_Mrs. Sul._ Common cant! had my spark called me a Venus directly, I
should have believed him a footman in good earnest.
_Dor._ But my lover was upon his knees to me.
_Mrs. Sul._ And mine was upon his tiptoes to me.
_Dor._ Mine vowed to die for me.
_Mrs. Sul._ Mine swore to die with me.
_Dor._ Mine kissed my hand ten thousand times.
_Mrs. Sul._ Mine has all that pleasure to come.
_Dor._ Mine spoke the softest moving things.
_Mrs. Sul._ Ay, ay, mine had his moving things too.
_Dor._ Mine offered marriage.
_Mrs. Sul._ O lard! d'ye call that a moving thing?
_Dor._ The sharpest arrow in his quiver, my dear sister; Why, my twenty
thousand pounds may lie brooding here this seven years, and hatch
nothing at last but some illnatured clown, like yours;--Whereas, if I
marry my Lord Aimwell, there will be title, place, and precedence, the
park, the play, and the drawing-room, splendour, equipage, noise, and
flambeaux--Hey, my Lady Aimwell's servants there--lights, lights to the
stairs--My Lady Aimwell's coach, put forward--stand by; make room for
her ladyship----Are not these things moving? What! melancholy of a
sudden?
_Mrs. Sul._ Happy, happy sister! your angel has been watchful for your
happiness, whilst mine has slept, regardless of his charge----Long
smiling years of circling joys for you, but not one hour for me! [_Weeps._
_Dor._ Come, my dear, we'll talk of something else.
_Mrs. Sul._ O, Dorinda, I own myself a woman, full of my sex, a gentle,
generous soul--easy and yielding to soft desires; a spacious heart,
where love and all his train might lodge; and must the fair apartment
of my breast be made a stable for a brute to lie in?
_Dor._ Meaning your husband, I suppose.
_Mrs. Sul._ Husband!--Even husband is too soft a name for him.--But,
come, I expect my brother here to-night or to-morrow; he was abroad when
my father married me: perhaps he'll find a way to make me easy.
_Dor._ Will you promise not to make yourself uneasy in the mean time
with my lord's friend?
_Mrs. Sul._ You mistake me, sister--It happens with us as among the men,
the greatest talkers are the greatest cowards; and there's a reason for
it; those spirits evaporate in prattle, which might do more mischief
if they took another course----Though, to confess the truth, I do love
that fellow;--and if I met him dressed as he should be,----Lookye,
sister, I have no supernatural gifts;----I can't swear I could resist
the temptation----though I can safely promise to avoid it; and that's as
much as the best of us can do. [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_The Inn._
_Enter_ AIMWELL _and_ ARCHER _laughing_.
_Arch._ And the awkward kindness of the good motherly old gentlewoman----
_Aim._ And the coming easiness of the young one--'Sdeath, 'tis pity to
deceive her.
_Arch._ Nay, if you adhere to those principles, stop where you are.
_Aim._ I can't stop; for I love her to distraction.
_Arch._ 'Sdeath, if you love her a hair's breadth beyond discretion, you
must go no farther.
_Aim._ Well, well, any thing to deliver us from sauntering away our idle
evenings at White's, Tom's, or Will's--But now----
_Arch._ Ay, now is the time to prevent all this--Strike while the iron
is hot--The priest is the luckiest part of our adventure; he shall marry
you, and pimp for me. But here comes the doctor; I shall be ready.
[_Exit._
_Enter_ FOIGARD.
_Foig._ Shave you, noble friend.
_Aim._ O sir, your servant; Pray, doctor, may I crave your name?
_Foig._ Fat naam is upon me? My naam is Foigard, joy.
_Aim._ Foigard! a very good name for a clergyman; Pray, Doctor Foigard,
were you ever in Ireland?
_Foig._ Ireland! No, joy:--Fat sort of plaace is dat shame Ireland? Dey
say de people are catched dere when dey are young.
_Aim._ And some of them here, when they are old;--as for example--[_Takes_
FOIGARD _by the Shoulder_.] Sir, I arrest you as a traitor against the
government; you are a subject of England, and this morning showed me a
commission, by which you served as chaplain in the French army: This is
death by our law, and your reverence must hang for't.
_Foig._ Upon my shoul, noble friend, dis is strange news you tell me,
Fader Foigard a subject of England--de son of a Burgomaster of Brussels
a subject of England, Ubooboo--
_Aim._ The son of a bog trotter in Ireland: sir, your tongue will
condemn you before any bench in the kingdom.
_Foig._ And is my tongue all your evidensh, joy?
_Aim._ That's enough.
_Foig._ No, no, joy, for I will never spaake de English no more.
_Aim._ Sir, I have other evidence.--Here, Martin, you know this fellow.
_Enter_ ARCHER.
_Aim._ [_In a Brogue._] Shave you, my dear cussen, how does your health?
_Foig._ Ah! upon my shoul dere is my countryman and his brogue will hang
mine. [_Aside._] _Mynhere, ick wet neat wat hey zacht, ick univirston
ewe, neat, sacrament._
_Aim._ Altering your language won't do, sir, this fellow knows your
person, and will swear to your face.
_Foig._ Faash! fey, is dere brogue upon my faash too?
_Arch._ Upon my shalvation dere ish, joy,----But, Cussen Mackshane, vill
you not put a remembrance upon me?
_Foig._ Mackshane! by St. Patrick, dat is my naam shure enough. [_Aside._
_Aim._ I fancy, Archer, you have it.
_Foig._ The devil hang you, joy----By fat acquaintance are you my
cussen?
_Arch._ O, de devil hang your shelf, joy; you know we were little boys
togeder upon de school, and your foster moder's son was married upon my
nurse's chister, joy, and so we are Irish cussens.
_Foig._ De devil taake de relation! Vel, joy, and fat school was it?
_Arch._ I think it vas--aay--'Twas Tipperary.
_Foig._ Now, upon my shoul, joy, it was Kilkenny.
_Aim._ That's enough for us--self confession--Come, sir, we must deliver
you into the hands of the next magistrate.
_Arch._ He sends you to gaol, you are tried next assizes, and away you
go swing into purgatory.
_Foig._ And is it sho wid you cussen?
_Arch._ It will be sho wid you, cussen, if you don't immediately confess
the secret between you and Mrs. Gipsey--Lookye, sir, the gallows or the
secret, take your choice.
_Foig._ The gallows! upon my shoul I hate that shame gallows, for it
is a diseash dat is fatal to our family.--Vel den, there is nothing,
shentlemens, but Mrs. Sullen would spaak wid the count in her chamber
at midnight, and dere is no harm, joy, for I am to conduct the count to
the plaash myself.
_Arch._ As I guessed.----Have you communicated the matter to the count?
_Foig._ I have not sheen him since.
_Arch._ Right again; why then, doctor;--you shall conduct me to the lady
instead of the count.
_Foig._ Fat, my cussen to the lady! upon my shoul, gra, dat's too much
upon the brogue.
_Arch._ Come, come, doctor, consider we have got a rope about your neck,
and if you offer to squeak, we'll stop your windpipe, most certainly; we
shall have another job for you in a day or two, I hope.
_Aim._ Here's company coming this way; let's into my chamber, and there
concert our affairs further.
_Arch._ Come, my dear cussen, come along.
_Foig._ Arra, the devil taake our relashion. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ BONIFACE, HOUNSLOW, _and_ BAGSHOT, _at one Door_,
GIBBET _at the opposite_.
_Gib._ Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprize.
_Houns._ Dark as hell.
_Bag._ And blows like the devil: our landlord here has shown us the
window where we must break in, and tells us the plate stands in the
wainscot cupboard in the parlour.
_Bon._ Ay, ay, Mr. Bagshot, as the saying is, knives and forks, cups and
cans, tumblers and tankards.--There's one tankard, as the saying is,
that's near upon as big as me: it was a present to the 'squire from his
godmother, and smells of nutmeg and toast, like an East India ship.
_Houns._ Then you say we must divide at the stair-head.
_Bon._ Yes, Mr. Hounslow, as the saying is----at one end of the gallery
lies my Lady Bountiful and her daughter, and at the other, Mrs.
Sullen--as for the 'squire.----
_Gib._ He's safe enough; I have fairly entered him, and he's more than
half seas over already--But such a parcel of scoundrels are got about
him there, that, egad, I was ashamed to be seen in their company.
_Bon._ 'Tis now twelve, as the saying is--gentlemen, you must set out at
one.
_Gib._ Hounslow, do you and Bagshot see our arms fixed, and I'll come to
you presently.
_Houns. and Bag._ We will. [_Exeunt_ HOUNSLOW _and_ BAGSHOT.
_Gib._ Well, my dear Bonny, you assure me that Scrub is a coward.
_Bon._ A chicken, as the saying is--you'll have no creature to deal with
but the ladies.
_Gib._ And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of address
and good manners in robbing a lady: I am the most a gentleman that way
that ever travelled the road.--But, my dear Bonny, this prize will be a
galleon, a Vigo business----I warrant you, we shall bring off three or
four thousand pounds.
_Bon._ In plate, jewels, and money, as the saying is, you may.
_Gib._ Why, then, Tyburn, I defy thee: I'll get up to town, sell off my
horse and arms, buy myself some pretty employment in the law, and be as
snug and as honest as e'er a long gown of them all.
_Bon._ And what think you, then, of my daughter Cherry for a wife?
_Gib._ Lookye, my dear Bonny, _Cherry is the goddess I adore_, as the
song goes; but it is a maxim, that man and wife should never have it in
their power to hang one another; for, if they should, the Lord have
mercy upon them both. [_Exeunt._
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.
_The Inn._
_Knocking without._
_Enter_ BONIFACE.
_Bon._ Coming, coming--a coach and six foaming horses at this time
o'night! some great man, as the saying is, for he scorns to travel with
other people.
_Enter_ SIR CHARLES FREEMAN.
_Sir C._ What, fellow! a public house, and abed when other people sleep?
_Bon._ Sir, I an't abed, as the saying is.
_Sir C._ I see that, as the saying is! Is Mr. Sullen's family abed,
think ye?
_Bon._ All but the 'squire himself, sir, as the saying is; he's in the
house.
_Sir C._ What company has he?
_Bon._ Why, sir, there's the constable, Mr. Gage, the exciseman, the
hunch-backed barber, and two or three other gentlemen.
_Sir C._ I find my sister's letters gave me the true picture of her
spouse.
_Enter_ SULLEN, _drunk_.
_Bon._ Sir, here's the 'squire.
_Sul._ The puppies left me asleep----sir.
_Sir C._ Well, sir.
_Sul._ Sir, I am an unfortunate man--I have three thousand pounds a
year, and I can't get a man to drink a cup of ale with me.
_Sir C._ That's very hard.
_Sul._ Ay, sir,--and unless you have pity upon me, and smoke one pipe
with me, I must e'en go home to my wife, and I had rather go to the
devil by half.
_Sir C._ But I presume, sir, you won't see your wife to-night, she'll be
gone to bed----you don't use to lie with your wife in that pickle.
_Sul._ What! not lie with my wife! Why, sir, do you take me for an
atheist, or a rake?
_Sir C._ If you hate her, sir, I think you had better lie from her.
_Sul._ I think so too, friend----but I am a justice of peace, and must
do nothing against the law.
_Sir C._ Law! as I take it, Mr. Justice, nobody observes law for law's
sake, only for the good of those for whom it was made.
_Sul._ But if the law orders me to send you to gaol, you must lie there,
my friend.
_Sir C._ Not unless I commit a crime to deserve it.
_Sul._ A crime! oons, an't I married?
_Sir C._ Nay, sir, if you call marriage a crime, you must disown it for
a law.
_Sul._ Eh!--I must be acquainted with you, sir,--but, sir, I should be
very glad to know the truth of this matter.
_Sir C._ Truth, sir, is a profound sea, and few there be that dare wade
deep enough to find out the bottom on't. Besides, sir, I am afraid the
line of your understanding mayn't be long enough.
_Sul._ Lookye, sir, I have nothing to say to your sea of truth; but if a
good parcel of land can entitle a man to a little truth, I have as much
as any he in the county.
_Bon._ I never heard your worship, as the saying is, talk so much
before.
_Sul._ Because I never met with a man that I liked before.
_Bon._ Pray, sir, as the saying is, let me ask you one question: are not
man and wife one flesh?
_Sir C._ You and your wife, Mr. Guts, may be one flesh, because you are
nothing else----but rational creatures have minds that must be united.
_Sul._ Minds!
_Sir C._ Ay, minds, sir; don't you think that the mind takes place of
the body?
_Sul._ In some people.
_Sir C._ Then the interest of the master must be consulted before that
of his servant.
_Sul._ Sir, you shall dine with me to-morrow----Oons, I always thought
that we were naturally one.
_Sir C._ Sir, I know that my two hands are naturally one, because they
love one another, kiss one another, help one another in all the actions
of life; but I could not say so much if they were always at cuffs.
_Sul._ Then 'tis plain that we are two.
_Sir C._ Why don't you part with her, sir?
_Sul._ Will you take her, sir?
_Sir C._ With all my heart.
_Sul._ You shall have her to-morrow morning, and a venison pasty into
the bargain.
_Sir C._ You'll let me have her fortune too?
_Sul._ Fortune! why, sir, I have no quarrel to her fortune----I only
hate the woman, sir, and none but the woman shall go.
_Sir C._ But her fortune, sir----
_Sul._ Can you play at whist, sir?
_Sir C._ No, truly, sir.
_Sul._ Not at all-fours?
_Sir C._ Neither.
_Sul._ Oons! where was this man bred? [_Aside._] Burn me, sir, I can't
go home; 'tis but two o'clock.
_Sir C._ For half an hour, sir, if you please--but you must consider
'tis late.
_Sul._ Late! that is the reason I can't go to bed--Come,
sir----[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ CHERRY; _she runs across the Stage, and knocks at_
AIMWELL'S _Chamber Door_. _Enter_ AIMWELL.
_Aim._ What's the matter? you tremble, child; you are frighted!
_Cher._ No wonder, sir--but, in short, sir, this very minute a gang of
rogues are gone to rob my Lady Bountiful's house.
_Aim._ How!
_Cher._ I dogged them to the very door, and left them breaking in.
_Aim._ Have you alarmed any body else with the news?
_Cher._ No, no, sir; I wanted to have discovered the whole plot, and
twenty other things, to your man, Martin; but I have searched the whole
house, and can't find him; where is he?
_Aim._ No matter, child; will you guide me immediately to the house?
_Cher._ With all my heart, sir: my Lady Bountiful is my godmother, and I
love Mrs. Dorinda so well--
_Aim._ Dorinda! the name inspires me! the glory and the danger shall be
all my own----Come, my life, let me but get my sword. [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_A Bedchamber in_ LADY BOUNTIFUL'S _House_.
MRS. SULLEN _and_ DORINDA _discovered; a Table and Lights_.
_Dor._ 'Tis very late, sister; no news of your spouse yet?
_Mrs. Sul._ No; I'm condemned to be alone till towards four, and then,
perhaps, I may be executed with his company.
_Dor._ Well, my dear, I'll leave you to your rest; you'll go directly to
bed, I suppose.
_Mrs. Sul._ I don't know what to do; heigho!
_Dor._ That's a desiring sigh, sister.
_Mrs. Sul._ This is a languishing hour, sister.
_Dor._ And might prove a critical minute, if the pretty fellow were
here.
_Mrs. Sul._ Here? what, in my bedchamber, at two o'clock i'th' morning,
I undressed, the family asleep, my hated husband abroad, and my lovely
fellow at my feet!----O, gad, sister!
_Dor._ Thoughts are free, sister, and them I allow you--So, my dear,
good night. [_Exit._
_Mrs. Sul._ A good rest to my dear Dorinda----Thoughts free! are they
so? why, then, suppose him here, dressed like a youthful, gay, and
burning bridegroom, [ARCHER _steals out of the Closet_.] with tongue
enchanting, eyes bewitching, knees imploring [_Turns a little on one
Side, and sees_ ARCHER _in the Posture she describes_.]--Ah! [_Shrieks,
and runs to the other Side of the Stage._]. Have my thoughts raised a
spirit? What are you, sir? a man, or a devil?
_Arch._ A man, a man, madam. [_Rising._
_Mrs. Sul._ How shall I be sure of it?
_Arch._ Madam, I'll give you demonstration this minute. [_Takes her
Hand._
_Mrs. Sul._ What, sir! do you intend to be rude?
_Arch._ Yes, madam, if you please.
_Mrs. Sul._ In the name of wonder, whence came ye?
_Arch._ From the skies, madam--I'm a Jupiter in love, and you shall be
my Alcmena.
_Mrs. Sul._ How came you in?
_Arch._ I flew in at the window, madam; your cousin Cupid lent me his
wings, and your sister Venus opened the casement.
_Mrs. Sul._ I'm struck dumb with admiration.
_Arch._ And I with wonder. [_Looks passionately at her._
_Mrs. Sul._ What will become of me?
_Arch._ How beautiful she looks!----the teeming jolly spring smiles in
her blooming face, and when she was conceived, her mother smelt to
roses, looked on lilies----
Lilies unfold their white, their fragrant charms,
When the warm sun thus darts into their arms. [_Runs to her._
_Mrs. Sul._ Ah! [_Shrieks._
_Arch._ Oons, madam, what do you mean? you'll raise the house.
_Mrs. Sul._ Sir, I'll wake the dead, before I bear this. What! approach
me with the freedoms of a keeper! I'm glad on't; your impudence has
cured me.
_Arch._ If this be impudence, [_Kneels._] I leave to your partial self;
no panting pilgrim, after a tedious, painful, voyage, e'er bowed before
his saint with more devotion.
_Mrs. Sul._ Now, now, I'm ruined if he kneels. [_Aside._] Rise, thou
prostrate engineer; not all thy undermining skill shall reach my heart.
Rise, and know that I am a woman, without my sex; I can love to all the
tenderness of wishes, sighs, and tears--But go no farther--Still, to
convince you that I'm more than woman, I can speak my frailty, confess
my weakness even for----But----
_Arch._ For me! [_Going to lay hold on her._
_Mrs. Sul._ Hold, sir; build not upon that--for my most mortal hatred
follows, if you disobey what I command you now--leave me this
minute--If he denies, I'm lost. [_Aside._
_Arch._ Then you'll promise----
_Mrs. Sul._ Any thing another time.
_Arch._ When shall I come?
_Mrs. Sul._ To-morrow--when you will.
_Arch._ Your lips must seal the promise.
_Mrs. Sul._ Pshaw!
_Arch._ They must, they must. [_Kisses her._] Raptures and paradise! and
why not now, my angel? The time, the place, silence, and secrecy, all
conspire--And the now conscious stars have pre-ordained this moment for
my happiness. [_Takes her in his Arms._
_Mrs. Sul._ You will not, cannot, sure.
_Arch._ If the sun rides fast, and disappoints not mortals of
to-morrow's dawn, this night shall crown my joys.
_Mrs. Sul._ My sex's pride assist me.
_Arch._ My sex's strength help me.
_Mrs. Sul._ You shall kill me first.
_Arch._ I'll die with you. [_Carrying her off._
_Mrs. Sul._ Thieves! thieves! murder!----
_Enter_ SCRUB, _in his Breeches, and one Shoe_.
_Scrub._ Thieves! thieves! murder! popery!
_Arch._ Ha! [_Draws, and offers to stab_ SCRUB.
[Illustration: BEAUX STRATAGEM
SCRUB: O PRAY SIR SPARE ALL I HAVE AND TAKE MY LIFE.
ACT V SCENE III]
_Scrub._ [_Kneeling._] O pray, sir, spare all I have, and take my life.
_Mrs. Sul._ [_Holding_ ARCHER'S _Hand_.] What does the fellow mean?
_Scrub._ O, madam, down upon your knees, your marrowbones----he's one of
them.
_Arch._ Of whom?
_Scrub._ One of the rogues----I beg your pardon, one of the honest
gentlemen, that just now are broke into the house.
_Arch._ How!
_Mrs. Sul._ I hope you did not come to rob me?
_Arch._ Indeed I did, madam, but I would have taken nothing but what you
might very well have spared; but your crying, Thieves, has waked this
dreaming fool, and so he takes them for granted.
_Scrub._ Granted! 'tis granted, sir; take all we have.
_Mrs. Sul._ The fellow looks as if he were broke out of Bedlam.
_Scrub._ Oons, madam, they're broke into the house with fire and sword;
I saw them, heard them, they'll be here this minute.
_Arch._ What! thieves!
_Scrub._ Under favour, sir, I think so.
_Mrs. Sul._ What shall we do, sir?
_Arch._ Madam, I wish your ladyship a good night.
_Mrs. Sul._ Will you leave me?
_Arch._ Leave you! lord, madam, did not you command me to begone just
now, upon pain of your immortal hatred.
_Mrs. Sul._ Nay, but pray, sir---- [_Takes hold of him._
_Arch._ Ha! ha! ha! now comes my turn to be ravished--You see now,
madam, you must use men one way or other; but take this by the way, good
madam, that none but a fool will give you the benefit of his courage,
unless you'll take his love along with it--How are they armed, friend?
_Scrub._ With sword and pistol, sir. [_He gets under the Table._
_Arch._ Hush!----I see a dark lanthorn coming through the
gallery----Madam, be assured I will protect you, or lose my life.
_Mrs. Sul._ Your life! no, sir, they can rob me of nothing that I value
half so much; therefore now, sir, let me entreat you to begone.
_Arch._ No, madam, I'll consult my own safety, for the sake of yours;
I'll work by stratagem: have you courage enough to stand the appearance
of them?
_Mrs. Sul._ Yes, yes; since I have escaped your hands, I can face any
thing.
_Arch._ Come hither, brother Scrub; don't you know me?
_Scrub._ Eh! my dear brother, let me kiss thee! [_Kisses_ ARCHER.
_Arch._ This way----Here---- [ARCHER _and_ SCRUB _hide_.
_Enter_ GIBBET, _with a dark Lanthorn in one Hand, and a
Pistol in the other_.
_Gib._ Ay, ay, this is the chamber, and the lady alone.
_Mrs. Sul._ Who are you, sir? What would you have? D'ye come to rob me?
_Gib._ Rob you! alack a day, madam, I'm only a younger brother, madam;
and so, madam, if you make a noise, I'll shoot you through the head: but
don't be afraid, madam. [_Laying his Lanthorn and Pistol upon the
Table._] These rings, madam; don't be concerned, madam; I have a
profound respect for you, madam; your keys, madam; don't be frighted,
madam; I'm the most of a gentleman. [_Searching her Pockets._] This
necklace, madam; I never was rude to any lady! I have a veneration--for
this necklace.
[_Here_ ARCHER, _having come round, and seized the Pistol,
takes_ GIBBET _by the Collar, trips up his Heels, and claps
the Pistol to his Breast_.
_Arch._ Hold, profane villain, and take the reward of thy sacrilege.
_Gib._ Oh! pray, sir, don't kill me; I an't prepared.
_Arch._ How many is there of them, Scrub?
_Scrub._ Five and forty, sir.
_Arch._ Then I must kill the villain, to have him out of the way.
_Gib._ Hold! hold! sir; we are but three, upon my honour.
_Arch._ Scrub, will you undertake to secure him?
_Scrub._ Not I, sir; kill him, kill him!
_Arch._ Run to Gipsey's chamber; there you'll find the doctor; bring him
hither presently. [_Exit_ SCRUB, _running_.] Come, rogue, if you have a
short prayer, say it.
_Gib._ Sir, I have no prayer at all; the government has provided a
chaplain to say prayers for us on these occasions.
_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sir, don't kill him: You fright me as much as him.
_Arch._ The dog shall die, madam, for being the occasion of my
disappointment.--Sirrah, this moment is your last.
_Gib._ Sir, I'll give you two hundred pounds to spare my life.
_Arch._ Have you no more, rascal?
_Gib._ Yes, sir, I can command four hundred; but I must reserve two of
them to save my life at the sessions.
_Enter_ SCRUB _and_ FOIGARD.
_Arch._ Here, doctor: I suppose Scrub and you, between you, may manage
him:----Lay hold of him. [FOIGARD _lays hold of_ GIBBET.
_Gib._ What! turned over to the priest already----Lookye, doctor, you
come before your time; I an't condemned yet, I thank ye.
_Foig._ Come, my dear joy, I vil secure your body and your shoul too; I
will make you a good catholic, and give you an absolution.
_Gib._ Absolution! Can you procure me a pardon, doctor?
_Foig._ No, joy.----
_Gib._ Then you and your absolution may go to the devil.
_Arch._ Convey him into the cellar, there bind him:--Take the pistol,
and if he offers to resist, shoot him through the head,--and come back
to us with all the speed you can.
_Scrub._ Ay, ay; come, doctor, do you hold him fast, and I'll guard him.
[_Exeunt_ SCRUB, GIBBET, _and_ FOIGARD.
_Mrs. Sul._ But how came the doctor?
_Arch._ In short, madam----[_Shrieking without._] 'Sdeath! the rogues
are at work with the other ladies:--I'm vexed I parted with the pistol;
but I must fly to their assistance--Will you stay here, madam, or
venture yourself with me?
_Mrs. Sul._ Oh, with you, dear sir, with you. [_Takes him by the Arm,
and exeunt._
SCENE III.
_Another Apartment._
_Enter_ HOUNSLOW _and_ BAGSHOT, _with Swords drawn, dragging in_ LADY
BOUNTIFUL _and_ DORINDA.
_Houns._ Come, come, your jewels, mistress.
_Bag._ Your keys, your keys, old gentlewoman.
_Enter_ AIMWELL.
_Aim._ Turn this way, villains; I durst engage an army in such a cause.
[_He engages them both._
_Enter_ ARCHER _and_ MRS. SULLEN.
_Arch._ Hold! hold! my lord; every man his bird, pray.
[_They engage Man to Man; the Rogues are thrown down, and
disarmed._
_Arch._ Shall we kill the rogues?
_Aim._ No, no; we'll bind them.
_Arch._ Ay, ay; here, madam, lend me your garter. [_To_ MRS. SULLEN,
_who stands by him_.
_Mrs. Sul._ The devil's in this fellow; he fights, loves, and banters
all in a breath: here's a rope, that the rogues brought with them, I
suppose.
_Arch._ Right, right, the rogue's destiny, a rope to hang
himself----Come, my lord,----this is but a scandalous sort of an office,
[_Binding the_ ROGUES _together_.] if our adventure should end in this
sort of hangmanwork; but I hope there is something in prospect that--
_Enter_ SCRUB.
Well, Scrub, have you secured your Tartar?
_Scrub._ Yes, sir, I left the priest and him disputing about religion.
_Aim._ And pray carry these gentlemen to reap the benefit of the
controversy. [_Delivers the_ PRISONERS _to_ SCRUB, _who leads them out_.
_Mrs. Sul._ Pray, sister, how came my lord here?
_Dor._ And pray, how came the gentleman here?
_Mrs. Sul._ I'll tell you the greatest piece of villainy--[_They talk in
dumb Show._
_Aim._ I fancy, Archer, you have been more successful in your adventure
than the housebreakers.
_Arch._ No matter for my adventure, yours is the principal----Press
her this minute to marry you,--now while she's hurried between the
palpitation of her fear, and the joy of her deliverance, now while the
tide of her spirits are at high-flood:----throw yourself at her feet,
speak some romantic nonsense or other;--confound her senses, bear down
her reason, and away with her:--The priest is now in the cellar, and
dare not refuse to do the work.
_Aim._ But how shall I get off without being observed?
_Arch._ You a lover, and not find a way to get off!--Let me see.
_Aim._ You bleed, Archer.
_Arch._ 'Sdeath, I'm glad on't; this wound will do the business--I'll
amuse the old lady and Mrs. Sullen about dressing my wound, while you
carry off Dorinda.
_Lady B._ Gentlemen, could we understand how you would be gratified for
the services----
_Arch._ Come, come, my lady, this is no time for compliments; I'm
wounded, madam.
_Lady B. and Mrs. Sul._ How! wounded!
_Dor._ I hope, sir, you have received no hurt?
_Aim._ None but what you may cure---- [_Makes love in dumb Show._
_Lady B._ Let me see your arm, sir--I must have some powder sugar, to
stop the blood----O me! an ugly gash; upon my word, sir, you must go
into bed.
_Arch._ Ay, my lady, a bed would do very well----Madam, [_To_ MRS.
SULLEN.] will you do me the favour to conduct me to a chamber?
_Lady B._ Do, do, daughter,----while I get the lint, and the probe, and
plaister ready. [_Runs out one Way_; AIMWELL _carries off_ DORINDA
_another_.
_Arch._ Come, madam, why don't you obey your mother's commands?
_Mrs. Sul._ How can you, after what is past, have the confidence to ask
me?
_Arch._ And if you go to that, how can you, after what is past, have
the confidence to deny me?----Was not this blood shed in your defence,
and my life exposed for your protection?--Lookye, madam, I'm none of
your romantic fools, that fight giants and monsters for nothing; my
valour is downright Swiss; I am a soldier of fortune, and must be paid.
_Mrs. Sul._ 'Tis ungenerous in you, sir, to upbraid me with your
services.
_Arch._ 'Tis ungenerous in you, madam, not to reward them.
_Mrs. Sul._ How! at the expense of my honour!
_Arch._ Honour! Can honour consist with ingratitude? If you would deal
like a woman of honour, do like a man of honour: d'ye think I would deny
you in such a case?
_Enter_ GIPSEY.
_Gip._ Madam, my lady ordered me to tell you, that your brother is below
at the gate.
_Mrs. Sul._ My brother! Heavens be praised:--Sir, he shall thank you for
your services; he has it in his power.
_Arch._ Who is your brother, madam?
_Mrs. Sul._ Sir Charles Freeman:----You'll excuse me, sir; I must go and
receive him. [_Exit._
_Arch._ Sir Charles Freeman! 'Sdeath and hell!----My old acquaintance.
Now, unless Aimwell has made good use of his time, all our fair machine
goes souse into the sea, like an Eddistone. [_Exit._
SCENE IV.
_The Gallery in the same House._
_Enter_ AIMWELL _and_ DORINDA.
_Dor._ Well, well, my lord, you have conquered:--your late generous
action will, I hope, plead for my easy yielding; though, I must own,
your lordship had a friend in the fort before.
_Aim._ The sweets of Hybla dwell upon her tongue--Here, doctor!----
_Enter_ FOIGARD, _with a Book_.
_Foig._ Are you prepared bote?
_Dor._ I'm ready. But first, my lord, one word--I have a frightful
example of a hasty marriage in my own family; when I reflect upon't, it
shocks me.--Pray, my lord, consider a little----
_Aim._ Consider! Do you doubt my honour, or my love?
_Dor._ Neither--I do believe you equally just as brave; and were your
whole sex drawn out for me to chuse, I should not cast a look upon the
multitude, if you were absent.--But, my lord, I'm a woman; colours,
concealments, may hide a thousand faults in me--therefore, know me
better first; I hardly dare affirm, I know myself in any thing, except
my love.
_Aim._ Such goodness who could injure! I find myself unequal to the task
of villain; she has gained my soul, and made it honest like her own--I
cannot hurt her. [_Aside._] Doctor, retire. [_Exit_ FOIGARD.] Madam,
behold your lover, and your proselyte, and judge of my passion by my
conversion.--I'm all a lie, nor dare I give a fiction to your arms;--I
am all a counterfeit, except my passion.
_Dor._ Forbid it, Heaven!--A counterfeit!
_Aim._ I am no lord, but a poor, needy man, come with a mean, a
scandalous design, to prey upon your fortune:--But the beauties of your
mind and person, have so won me from myself, that, like a trusty
servant, I prefer the interest of my mistress to my own.
_Dor._ Pray, sir, who are you?
_Aim._ Brother to the man, whose title I usurped, but stranger to his
honour or his fortune.
_Dor._ Matchless honesty!--Once I was proud, sir, of your wealth and
title, but now am prouder that you want it: now I can show, that my love
was justly levelled, and had no aim but love.--Doctor, come in.
_Enter_ FOIGARD, _at one Door_, GIPSEY _at another, who
whispers_ DORINDA.
Your pardon, sir; we shan't want you now, sir. You must excuse me--I'll
wait on you presently. [_Exit with_ GIPSEY.
_Foig._ Upon my shoul, now, dis is foolish. [_Exit._
_Aim._ Gone! and bid the priest depart--It has an ominous look!
_Enter_ ARCHER.
_Arch._ Courage, Tom----Shall I wish you joy?
_Aim._ No.
_Arch._ Oons, man! what ha' you been doing?
_Aim._ O Archer, my honesty, I fear, has ruined me.
_Arch._ How!
_Aim._ I have discovered myself.
_Arch._ Discovered! and without my consent?--What! have I embarked my
small remains in the same bottom with yours, and you dispose of all
without my partnership?
_Aim._ O, Archer, I own my fault.
_Arch._ After conviction--'tis then too late for pardon.--You may
remember, Mr. Aimwell, that you proposed this folly--As you begun, so
end it--Henceforth, I'll hunt my fortune single--so farewell.
_Aim._ Stay, my dear Archer, but a minute.
_Arch._ Stay! What, to be despised, exposed, and laughed at?--No, I
would sooner change conditions with the worst of the rogues we just now
bound, than bear one scornful smile from the proud knight, that once I
treated as my equal.
_Aim._ What knight?
_Arch._ Sir Charles Freeman, brother to the lady that I had almost----But,
no matter for that, 'tis a cursed night's work, and so I leave you to
make the best on't.
_Aim._ Freeman!--One word, Archer--Still I have hopes; methought, she
received my confession with pleasure.
_Arch._ 'Sdeath! who doubts it?
_Aim._ She consented after to the match; and still I dare believe she
will be just.
_Arch._ To herself, I warrant her; as you should have been.
_Aim._ By all my hopes, she comes! and smiling comes.
_Enter_ DORINDA, _gaily_.
_Dor._ Come, my dear lord, I fly with impatience to your arms.--The
minutes of my absence was a tedious year.--Where's this priest?
_Enter_ FOIGARD.
_Arch._ Oons! a brave girl!
_Dor._ I suppose, my lord, this gentleman is privy to our affairs?
_Arch._ Yes, yes, madam, I'm to be your father.
_Dor._ Come, priest, do your office.
_Arch._ Make haste, make haste! couple them any way. [_Takes_ AIMWELL'S
_Hand_.] Come, madam, I'm to give you----
_Dor._ My mind's altered--I won't.
_Arch._ Eh!
_Aim._ I'm confounded!
_Foig._ Upon my shoul, and so is myshelf!
_Arch._ What's the matter now, madam?
_Dor._ Lookye, sir, one generous action deserves another.--This
gentleman's honour obliged him to hide nothing from me; my justice
engages me to conceal nothing from him. In short, sir, you are the
person that you thought you counterfeited; you are the true Lord
Viscount Aimwell, and I wish your lordship joy.--Now, priest, you may
begone;--if my lord is now pleased with the match, let his lordship
marry me in the face of the world.
_Aim._ Archer, what does she mean?
_Dor._ Here's a witness for my truth.
_Enter_ SIR CHARLES, _and_ MRS. SULLEN.
_Sir C._ My dear Lord Aimwell, I wish you joy!
_Aim._ Of what?
_Sir C._ Of your honour and estate. Your brother died the day before I
left London; and all your friends have writ after you to Brussels: among
the rest, I did myself the honour.
_Arch._ Harkye, sir knight, don't you banter now?
_Sir C._ 'Tis truth, upon my honour.
_Aim._ Thanks to the pregnant stars, that formed this accident.
_Arch._ Thanks to the womb of time, that brought it forth--away with
it.
_Aim._ Thanks to my guardian angel, that led me to the prize. [_Taking_
DORINDA'S _Hand_.
_Arch._ And double thanks to the noble Sir Charles Freeman.--My lord, I
wish you joy. My lady, I wish you joy.--Egad, Sir Charles, you're the
honestest fellow living.--'Sdeath! I'm grown strangely airy upon this
matter.----My lord, how d'ye?----A word, my lord: Don't you remember
something of a previous agreement, that entitles me to the moiety of
this lady's fortune, which, I think, will amount to ten thousand pounds?
_Aim._ Not a penny, Archer: you would have cut my throat just now,
because I would not deceive this lady.
_Arch._ Ay, and I'll cut your throat still, if you should deceive her
now.
_Aim._ That's what I expect; and to end the dispute, the lady's fortune
is twenty thousand pounds, we'll divide stakes; take the twenty thousand
pounds, or the lady.
_Dor._ How! is your lordship so indifferent?
_Arch._ No, no, no, madam! his lordship knows very well, that I'll take
the money; I leave you to his lordship, and so we are both provided for.
_Enter_ FOIGARD.
_Foig._ Arra fait, de people do say, you be all robbed, joy.
_Aim._ The ladies have been in some danger, sir, as you saw.
_Foig._ Upon my shoul, our inn be rob too.
_Aim._ Our inn! By whom?
_Foig._ Upon my shalvation, our landlord has robbed himself, and run
away wid da money.
_Arch._ Robbed himself!
_Foig._ Ay, fait! and me too, of a hundred pounds.
_Arch._ Robbed you of a hundred pounds!
_Foig._ Yes, fait, honey, that I did owe to him.
_Aim._ Our money's gone, Frank!
_Arch._ Rot the money! my wench is gone.
_Sir C._ This good company meets opportunely in favour of a design I
have in behalf of my unfortunate sister: I intend to part her from her
husband. Gentlemen, will you assist me?
_Arch._ Assist you!--'Sdeath! who would not?
_Foig._ Ay, upon my shoul, we'll all ashist.
_Enter_ SULLEN.
_Sul._ What's all this?----They tell me, spouse, that you had like to
have been robbed.
_Mrs. Sul._ Truly, spouse, I was pretty near it--had not these two
gentlemen interposed.
_Sul._ How came these gentlemen here?
_Mrs. Sul._ That's his way of returning thanks, you must know.
_Foig._ Ay, but upon my conshience, de question be apropos, for all dat.
_Sir C._ You promised, last night, sir, that you would deliver your lady
to me this morning.
_Sul._ Humph!
_Arch._ Humph! what do you mean by humph?--Sir, you shall deliver
her----In short, sir, we have saved you and your family, and if you are
not civil, we'll unbind the rogues, join with them, and set fire to your
house.--What does the man mean? Not part with his wife!
_Foig._ Arra, not part wid your wife! Upon my shoul, de man dosh not
understand common shivility.
_Mrs. Sul._ Hold, gentlemen, all things here must move by consent:
compulsion would spoil us. Let my dear and I talk the matter over, and
you shall judge it between us.
_Sul._ Let me know, first, who are to be our judges.--Pray, sir, who are
you?
_Sir C._ I am Sir Charles Freeman, come to take away your wife.
_Sul._ And you, good sir?
_Aim._ Thomas, Viscount Aimwell, come to take away your sister.
_Sul._ And you, pray, sir?
_Arch._ Francis Archer, Esq. come----
_Sul._ To take away my mother, I hope.--Gentlemen, you are heartily
welcome: I never met with three more obliging people since I was
born.--And now, my dear, if you please, you shall have the first word.
_Arch._ And the last, for five pounds. [_Aside._
_Mrs. Sul._ Spouse.
_Sul._ Rib.
_Mrs. Sul._ How long have you been married?
_Sul._ By the almanack, fourteen months--but, by my account, fourteen
years.
_Mrs. Sul._ 'Tis thereabout, by my reckoning.
_Foig._ Upon my conshience, dere accounts vil agree.
_Sir C._ What are the bars to your mutual contentment?
_Mrs. Sul._ In the first place, I can't drink ale with him.
_Sul._ Nor can I drink tea with her.
_Mrs. Sul._ I can't hunt with you.
_Sul._ Nor can I dance with you.
_Mrs. Sul._ I hate cocking and racing.
_Sul._ And I abhor ombre and picquet.
_Mrs. Sul._ Your silence is intolerable.
_Sul._ Your prating is worse.
_Mrs. Sul._ Is there, on earth, a thing we can agree in?
_Sul._ Yes--to part.
_Mrs. Sul._ With all my heart.
_Sul._ Your hand.
_Mrs. Sul._ Here.
_Sul._ These hands joined us; these shall part us--Away!
_Mrs. Sul._ East.
_Sul._ West.
_Mrs. Sul._ North.
_Sul._ South: as far as the poles asunder.
_Foig._ Upon my shoul, a very pretty sheremony!
_Sir C._ Now, Mr. Sullen, there wants only my sister's fortune to make
us easy.
_Sul._ Sir Charles, you love your sister, and I love her fortune; every
one to his fancy.
_Arch._ Then you won't refund?
_Sul._ Not a stiver.
_Arch._ What is her portion?
_Sir C._ Ten thousand pounds, sir.
_Arch._ I'll pay it: my lord, I thank him, has enabled me; and, if the
lady pleases, she shall go home with me. This night's adventure has
proved strangely lucky to us all--For Captain Gibbet, in his walk, has
made bold, Mr. Sullen, with your study and scrutoire, and has taken out
all the writings of your estate, all the articles of marriage with your
lady, bills, bonds, leases, receipts, to an infinite value; I took them
from him, and will deliver them to Sir Charles.
_Sul._ How! my writings! my head aches consumedly.--Well, gentlemen,
you shall have her fortune, but I can't talk. If you have a mind, Sir
Charles, to be merry, and celebrate my sister's wedding and my divorce,
you may command my house. But my head aches consumedly;--Scrub, bring me
a dram.
_Foig._ And put a sup in the top for myself. [_Exeunt_ FOIGARD _and_
SULLEN.
_Arch._ 'Twould be hard to guess which of these parties is the better
pleased, the couple joined, or the couple parted; the one rejoicing in
hopes of an untasted happiness, and the other in their deliverance from
an experienced misery.
Both happy in their several states, we find:
Those parted by consent, and those conjoin'd.
Consent, if mutual, saves the lawyer's fee;
Consent is law enough to set you free.
[_Exeunt Omnes._
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Contemporary spellings have been retained. Hyphenation is inconsistent
throughout.
Two changes were made to the text.
Act 2: end of Scene 1, Mrs. Sullen's penultimate speech:
"her" was changed to "here" in the sentence:
The Count is to dine here tonight.
In Act 3, Scene 2:
The words "Yes, faith", spoken by a non-existent character called
"Alon", were assigned to Aimwell in keeping with the dialogue sequence.