This is a modern-English version of Plays, written by Sir John Vanbrugh, volume the first, originally written by Vanbrugh, John.
It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling,
and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If
you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.
Scroll to the bottom of this page and you will find a free ePUB download link for this book.
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is now in the public domain.
PLAYS,
WRITTEN BY
AUTHORED BY
Sir John Vanbrugh.
Sir John Vanbrugh.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
In Two Volumes.
Volume the First.
Volume the First.
CONTAINING,
CONTAINING,
- The Relapse; Or, Virtue in Risk.
- The Provoked Wife, with a new Scene.
- Aesop, in two Components.
- The Fake Friend.
LONDON:
LONDON:
Printed for J. Rivington, T. Longman, T. Lowndes, S. Caslon, C. Corbett, S. Bladon, W. Nicoll, T. Evans, and M. Waller.
Printed for J. Rivington, T. Longman, T. Lowndes, S. Caslon, C. Corbett, S. Bladon, W. Nicoll, T. Evans, and M. Waller.
MDCCLXXVI.
1776.
AN
ACCOUNT
OF THE
LIFE and WRITINGS
OF THE
AUTHOR.
Sir John Vanbrugh, an eminent dramatic Writer, Son of Mr. Giles Vanbrugh, of London, Merchant, was born in the Parish of St. Stephen's, Wallbrook, in 1666. The Family of Vanbrugh were for many Years Merchants of great Credit and Reputation, at Antwerp, and came into England in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, on account of the Persecution for Religion.
Mr. John Vanbrugh, a prominent playwright, son of Mr. Giles Vanbrugh from London, who was a merchant, was born in the parish of St. Stephen's, Walbrook, in 1666. The Vanbrugh family had been well-respected merchants at Antwerp for many years before moving to England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth due to religious persecution.
Sir John received a very liberal Education, and at the Age of nineteen, was sent by his Father to France, where he continued some[Pg 4] Years: He became very eminent for his Poetry, to which he discovered an early propension. And, pity it is, that this agreeable Writer had not discovered his Wit, without any Mixture of that Licentiousness, which, tho' it pleased, tended to corrupt the Audience.
Sir John received a very generous education, and at the age of nineteen, his father sent him to France, where he stayed for several[Pg 4] years. He became quite well-known for his poetry, which he showed a natural talent for from an early age. It's a shame that this enjoyable writer didn't showcase his wit without the mix of that inappropriate content, which, although it entertained, tended to corrupt the audience.
The Relapse was the first Play our Author produced, but not the first he had written; for he had at that Time by him, all the Scenes of The Provok'd Wife; but being then doubtful whether he should ever trust it to the Stage, he flung it by, and thought no more of it: Why the last written Play was first acted, and for what Reason they were given to different Stages, what follows will explain.
The Relapse was the first play our author produced, but not the first he had written; he had at that time all the scenes of The Provok'd Wife ready. However, he was unsure about putting it on stage, so he set it aside and moved on. The reasons why the last written play was the first to be acted and why they were performed at different theaters will be explained in what follows.
Upon our Author's first Step into public Life, when he was but an Ensign in the Army, and had a Heart greatly above his Income, he happened somewhere at his Winter Quarters, upon a slender Acquaintance with Sir Thomas Skipwith, to receive a particular Obligation from him; and many Years afterwards, when Sir Thomas's Interest in a Theatrical Patent (which he had a large Share in, though he little concerned himself in the Conduct of it) was rising but very slowly, Sir John thought that to give it a lift by a new Comedy, might be the handsomest[Pg 5] Return he could make to those his former Favours; accordingly he soon after finished The Relapse, or, Virtue in Danger, which was acted at the Theatre in Drury-Lane, in 1696, with universal Applause.
Upon our Author's first step into public life, when he was just a junior officer in the Army and had ambitions far greater than his income, he found himself at his winter quarters where he developed a slight acquaintance with Sir Thomas Skipwith. He received a significant favor from him; many years later, as Sir Thomas's interest in a theatrical patent (which he owned a large part of, even though he didn't involve himself much in its management) was growing but very slowly, Sir John thought that producing a new comedy could be the best way to repay his previous kindness. As a result, he quickly completed The Relapse, or, Virtue in Danger, which was performed at the Theatre in Drury-Lane in 1696 to universal acclaim.
Upon the Success of The Relapse, the late Lord Hallifax, who was a favourer of Betterton's Company, having formerly heard some Scenes of The Provok'd Wife read to him, engaged Sir John Vanbrugh to revise it, and give it to that Company. This was a Request not to be refused to so eminent a Patron of the Muses as Lord Hallifax, who was equally a Friend and Admirer of Sir John himself; nor was Sir Thomas Skipwith in the least disobliged by so reasonable a Compliance. The Provok'd Wife was accordingly acted at the Theatre in Lincoln's Inn-Fields in 1697, with great Success.
Upon the success of The Relapse, the late Lord Hallifax, a supporter of Betterton's Company, had previously listened to some scenes from The Provok'd Wife being read to him. He got Sir John Vanbrugh to revise it and present it to that Company. This was a request hard to deny from such a distinguished patron of the arts as Lord Hallifax, who was both a friend and admirer of Sir John himself; and Sir Thomas Skipwith was certainly not bothered by such a reasonable agreement. The Provok'd Wife was performed at the Theatre in Lincoln's Inn-Fields in 1697, achieving great success.
Tho' this Play met with so favourable a Reception, yet it was not without its Enemies: People of the graver Sort blamed the looseness of the Scenes, and the unguarded freedom of the Dialect; and indeed Sir John himself appears to have been sensible of the immorality of his Scenes; for in the Year 1725, when this Play was revived, he thought proper to substitute a new Scene in the fourth Act, in place of another, in which, in the[Pg 6] wantonness of his Wit, he had made a Rake talk like a Rake, in the Habit of a Clergyman; to avoid which Offence, he put the same Debauchee into the Undress of a Woman of Quality; by which means the Follies he exposed in the Petticoat, appeared to the Audience innocent and entertaining; which new Scene is now for the first Time printed at the End of the Play.
Though this play was received very well, it also had its critics: more serious-minded people took issue with the loose scenes and the unrestricted language. In fact, Sir John himself seemed aware of the immorality of his scenes; in 1725, when this play was brought back, he decided to replace a scene in the fourth act with a new one. In the original, he had a rake speak like a rake while dressed as a clergyman. To avoid this offense, he instead put the same debauched character in a woman's clothing. This change made the follies he showcased seem innocent and entertaining to the audience. The new scene is now printed here for the first time at the end of the play.
Soon after the Success of The Provok'd Wife, Sir John produced the Comedy of Esop, in two Parts, which was acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury Lane, in 1697. This was originally written in French by Mr. Boursaut, about six Years before; but the Scenes of Sir Polydorus Hogstye, the Players, and the Beau, were added by our Author. This Play contains a great deal of general Satire, and useful Morality; notwithstanding which, it met with but a cold Reception from the Audience, and its run ended in about nine Days. This seemed the more surprizing, as the French Comedy was played to crowded Audiences for a Month together. The little Success this Piece met with on the English Stage, cannot be better accounted for than in the Words of Mr. Cibber, who, speaking of this Play, makes the following Observation: "The Character that delivers Precepts of Wisdom, is in some sort severe upon the[Pg 7] Auditor, for shewing him one wiser than himself; but when Folly is his Object, he applauds himself for being wiser than the Coxcomb he laughs at; and who is not more pleased with an Occasion to commend, than to accuse himself?"
Soon after the success of The Provok'd Wife, Sir John produced the comedy Esop, in two parts, which was performed at the Theatre-Royal in Drury Lane in 1697. This was originally written in French by Mr. Boursaut about six years earlier; however, the scenes featuring Sir Polydorus Hogstye, the players, and the beau were added by our author. This play has a lot of general satire and useful morality; nonetheless, it received a lukewarm response from the audience, and its run ended after about nine days. This was surprising, considering that the French comedy attracted packed audiences for a month straight. The limited success of this piece on the English stage can be best explained by the words of Mr. Cibber, who, while commenting on this play, made the following observation: "The character that delivers precepts of wisdom is somewhat harsh on the audience for showing them someone wiser than themselves; yet when folly is the target, they applaud themselves for being wiser than the fool they laugh at; and who isn't more pleased to have a reason to commend rather than blame themselves?"
The next Play our Author wrote, was The False Friend, a Comedy, which was acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury Lane, in 1702.
The next play our author wrote was The False Friend, a comedy that was performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane in 1702.
In 1703, Sir John formed a Project of building a stately Theatre in the Haymarket, for which he had interest enough to get a Subscription of thirty Persons of Quality, at one hundred Pounds each, in consideration whereof, every Subscriber was for his own Life to be admitted to whatever Entertainments should be publicly performed there, without any farther Payment for Entrance.
In 1703, Sir John proposed the idea of building a grand theater in the Haymarket. He was able to interest thirty influential people, each contributing one hundred pounds. In return, each subscriber would have free access to all performances held there for the rest of their lives, without any additional entrance fees.
In 1706, when this House was finished, Mr. Betterton and his Co-partners, who then acted at the Theatre in Lincoln's Inn-Fields, dissolved their Agreement, and put themselves under the direction of Sir John Vanbrugh and Mr. Congreve, imagining, perhaps, that the Conduct of two such eminent Authors might give a more prosperous turn to their Affairs; that the Plays it would now be their interest to write for them, would soon[Pg 8] recover the Town to a true Taste, and be an Advantage that no other Company could hope for; and that till such Plays could be written, the Grandeur of their House, as it was a new spectacle, might allure the Crowd to support them: But, if these were their Views, they soon found their Dependance upon them was too sanguine; for though Sir John was a very expeditious Writer, yet Mr. Congreve was too judicious to let any Thing come unfinished from his Pen. Besides, every proper Convenience of a good Theatre had been sacrificed to shew the Audience a vast triumphal Piece of Architecture, in which, by Means of the spaciousness of the Dome, plays could not be successfully represented, because the Actors could not be distinctly heard.
In 1706, when this House was completed, Mr. Betterton and his partners, who were performing at the Theatre in Lincoln's Inn-Fields, ended their agreement and placed themselves under the direction of Sir John Vanbrugh and Mr. Congreve. They probably thought that having two such prominent authors would turn their fortunes around; they believed that the plays these authors would write for them would quickly restore a true taste to the audiences and would be an advantage no other company could expect. They also thought that until those plays were ready, the grandeur of their new theatre would attract crowds to support them. However, if those were their expectations, they soon realized their reliance on them was overly optimistic. Although Sir John was a very fast writer, Mr. Congreve was too prudent to let anything unfinished come from his pen. Moreover, the proper amenities of a good theatre had been sacrificed to showcase a grand piece of architecture, which, due to the spaciousness of the dome, made it difficult for the audience to hear the actors clearly during performances.
Not long before this Time, the Italian Opera began to steal into England, but in as rude a Disguise as possible: notwithstanding which, the new Monster pleased, though it had neither Grace, Melody, nor Action, to recommend it. To strike in therefore with the prevailing Fashion, Sir John and Mr. Congreve opened their New Theatre with a translated Opera, set to Italian Music, called The Triumph of Love; but it met with a very cool Reception, being performed only three Times—to thin Houses.
Not long before this time, the Italian Opera started to make its way into England, but in the most awkward way possible. Still, the new trend was popular, even though it had no grace, melody, or acting to recommend it. To align with the current fashion, Sir John and Mr. Congreve opened their new theater with a translated opera, set to Italian music, called The Triumph of Love; however, it received a really lukewarm response, being performed only three times in front of sparse crowds.
Immediately upon the Failure of this Opera, Sir John Vanbrugh brought on his Comedy, called The Confederacy, taken, but very greatly improved, from Les Bourgeoises à la Mode, of Monsieur D'Ancourt. The Success of this Play was not equal to its Merit; for it is written with an uncommon Vein of Wit and Humour; which plainly shews that the difficulty of hearing, distinctly, in that large Theatre, was no small Impediment to the Applause that might have followed the same Actors on any other Stage; and indeed every Play acted there before the House was altered, seemed to suffer greatly from the same Inconvenience; for what few could plainly hear, it was not likely many could applaud. In a Word, the Prospect of Profits from this Theatre was so very barren, that Mr. Congreve, in a few Months, gave up his Share in it wholly to Sir John Vanbrugh; who, as he had a happier Talent of throwing the English Spirit into his Translations, than any other Author who had borrowed from them, he in the same Season produced The Mistake, a Comedy, taken from Le D'epit Amoureux, of Moliere; and The Country House, a Farce, translated from The French, which has been acted at all the Theatres with general Applause.
Immediately after the failure of this opera, Sir John Vanbrugh presented his comedy, titled The Confederacy, which was adapted and significantly improved from Les Bourgeoises à la Mode by Monsieur D'Ancourt. The success of this play did not match its quality, as it is filled with a unique blend of wit and humor. This clearly shows that the difficulty in hearing clearly in that large theatre was a significant barrier to the applause that the same actors might have received on any other stage. In fact, every play performed there before the house was changed seemed to suffer heavily from the same issue because what few people could hear clearly, it was unlikely many could applaud. In short, the prospect of making profits from this theatre was so bleak that Mr. Congreve completely sold his share to Sir John Vanbrugh within a few months. Vanbrugh, having a better ability to capture the English spirit in his translations than any other author who had drawn from them, also presented The Mistake, a comedy adapted from Le D'epit Amoureux by Moliere, and The Country House, a farce translated from The French, which received widespread acclaim at all theatres.
Sir John soon afterwards, thoroughly tired of Theatrical Affairs, determined to get rid of his Patent on the best Terms he could; he accordingly made an Offer to Mr. Owen Swiney of his House, Clothes, and Scenes, with the Queen's Licence to employ them, upon Payment of the Rent of five Pounds upon every acting Day, and not to exceed 700 l. in the Year; with which Proposal Mr. Swiney soon complied, and managed that Stage for some Time after.
Sir John, feeling completely exhausted by the theater scene, decided to get rid of his patent for the best deal he could manage. He offered Mr. Owen Swiney his theater, costumes, and sets, along with the Queen's permission to use them, in exchange for a payment of five pounds for each performance day, not to exceed 700 l. per year. Mr. Swiney quickly accepted this offer and ran the theater for a while afterward.
Sir John is not a little to be admired for his Spirit, and readiness in producing Plays so fast upon the Neck of one another; for, notwithstanding his quick Dispatch, there is a clear and lively Simplicity in his Wit, that neither wants the Ornaments of Learning, nor has the least Smell of the Lamp, as the Face of a fine Woman, with her Locks loose about her, may then be in its greatest Beauty; such were his Productions, only adorned by Nature. And there is, besides, something so catching to the Ear, and so easy to the Memory, in all he writ, that it has been observed by all the Actors of those Times, the Stile of no Author whatsoever gave their Memory less Trouble, than that of Sir John Vanbrugh. And indeed his Wit and Humour was so little laboured, that his most entertaining Scenes seem to be no more[Pg 11] than his common Conversation committed to Paper. As his Conceptions were so full of Life and Humour, it is not much to be wondered at, if his Muse should be sometimes too warm to wait the slow Pace of Judgment, or to endure the Drudgery of forming a regular Fable to them.
Sir John is certainly to be admired for his energy and ability to produce plays so quickly one after the other; despite his rapid output, there's a clear and vibrant simplicity in his wit that neither lacks the embellishments of learning nor shows the slightest hint of being overly worked, much like a beautiful woman's face with her hair flowing freely. His works were naturally beautiful. Additionally, there’s something so appealing to the ear and so easy to remember in everything he wrote that it’s been noted by all the actors of that time that no other author’s style was easier for their memories than that of Sir John Vanbrugh. In fact, his wit and humor seemed so effortless that his most entertaining scenes read like his everyday conversation written down. Given how lively and humorous his ideas were, it’s not surprising that his muse could sometimes be a bit too passionate to wait for the slow pace of judgment or to handle the tediousness of crafting a structured story for them.
Besides the Plays already mentioned, Sir John left behind him Part of a Comedy, called A Journey to London, which has since been made an entire Play of by Mr. Cibber, and called The Provoked Husband, and was acted at the Theatre-Royal, in Drury Lane, in 1727, for twenty-eight Nights successively, with universal Applause.
Besides the plays already mentioned, Sir John left behind part of a comedy called A Journey to London, which was later turned into a full play by Mr. Cibber, titled The Provoked Husband. It was performed at the Theatre-Royal in Drury Lane in 1727 for twenty-eight consecutive nights, receiving widespread acclaim.
In 1703, he was appointed Clarencieux King of Arms, and in 1706 was commissioned by Queen Anne to carry the Habit and Ensigns of the Order of the Garter to King George the First, then at Hanover; he was likewise Comptroller-General of the Board of Works, and Surveyor of the Gardens and Waters. In the Year 1714, he received the Order of Knighthood; and in 1719 he married Henrietta Maria, Daughter of Colonel Yarborough, of Haslington, near York, by whom he had three Children; Charles the eldest was killed at the Battle of Fontenoy, the other two died young.
In 1703, he became the Clarencieux King of Arms, and in 1706, he was commissioned by Queen Anne to deliver the Habit and Ensigns of the Order of the Garter to King George the First, who was then in Hanover. He also served as the Comptroller-General of the Board of Works and was the Surveyor of the Gardens and Waters. In 1714, he was knighted, and in 1719, he married Henrietta Maria, the daughter of Colonel Yarborough, from Haslington, near York, with whom he had three children; the eldest, Charles, was killed at the Battle of Fontenoy, while the other two died young.
Sir John died at his House in Scotland-Yard, the 26th of March, 1726, and is interred in the Family Vault, under the Church of St. Stephen's, Wallbrook.
Sir John passed away at his home in Scotland-Yard on the 26th of March, 1726, and he is buried in the family vault beneath the Church of St. Stephen's, Wallbrook.
THE
RELAPSE:
OR,
VIRTUE in DANGER:
A
COMEDY.
Being the Sequel of The Fool in Fashion.
Being the Sequel of The Fool in Fashion.
THE
PREFACE.
To go about to excuse half the Defects this abortive Brat is come into the World with, would be to provoke the Town with a long useless Preface, when it is, I doubt, sufficiently soured already by a tedious Play.
To try to justify half the flaws this unsuccessful child has entered the world with would only frustrate the town with a lengthy, pointless introduction, especially since it's already pretty annoyed by a long, dull play.
I do therefore (with all the Humility of a repenting Sinner) confess, it wants every thing——but length; and in that, I hope, the severest Critick will be pleas'd to acknowledge I have not been wanting. But my Modesty will sure atone for every thing, when the World shall know it is so great, I am even to this Day insensible of those two shining Graces in the Play (which some part of the Town is pleas'd to compliment me with) Blasphemy and Bawdy.
I definitely confess, with all the humility of someone who's sorry for their mistakes, that it lacks everything—except length; and I hope even the toughest critic will agree that I haven't skimped on that. But my modesty will surely make up for everything when the world realizes it's so huge that I still, to this day, am unaware of those two standout qualities in the play (which some people in town are happy to compliment me on) blasphemy and vulgarity.
For my part, I cannot find them out: If there were any obscene Expressions upon the Stage, here they are in the Print; for I have dealt fairly, I have not sunk a Syllable, that cou'd (though by racking of Mysteries) be rang'd under that Head; and yet I believe with a steady Faith, there is not one Woman of a real Reputation in Town, but[Pg iv] when she has read it impartially over in her Closet, will find it so innocent, she will think it no Affront to her Prayer-Book, to lay it upon the same Shelf. So to them (with all manner of Deference) I entirely refer my cause; and I am confident they will justify me against those Pretenders to Good-manners, who at the same time have so little Respect for the Ladies, they wou'd extract a bawdy Jest from an Ejaculation, to put them out of countenance. But I expect to have these well-bred Persons always my Enemies, since I am sure I shall never write any thing lewd enough to make them my Friends.
For my part, I can't figure them out: If there were any obscene expressions on stage, they're right here in print; I have been honest, I haven't omitted a single syllable that could possibly be twisted into that category. Yet, I genuinely believe that there isn't a single woman of real reputation in town who, after reading it fairly in her own space, won’t find it so innocent that she won't think twice about placing it on the same shelf as her prayer book. So I fully entrust my case to them (with all due respect); and I'm confident they will defend me against those pretenders to good manners, who at the same time show so little respect for women that they'd make a dirty joke out of an utterance just to embarrass them. But I expect to have these well-mannered folks as my enemies forever, since I know I’ll never write anything crude enough to win their friendship.
As for the Saints (your thorough-pac'd ones, I mean, with skrew'd Faces and wry Mouths) I despair of them; for they are Friends to nobody: They love nothing but their Altars and themselves; they have too much Zeal to have any Charity; they make Debauches in Piety, as Sinners do in Wine; and are as quarrelsome in their Religion, as other People are in their Drink: so I hope nobody will mind what they say. But if any Man (with flat plod Shoes, a little Band, greasy Hair, and a dirty Face, who is wiser than I, at the Expence of being forty Years older), happens to be offended at a Story of a Cock and a Bull, and a Priest and a Bull-dog, I beg his pardon with all my Heart; which, I hope, I shall obtain, by eating my Words, and making this publick Recantation. I do therefore, for his Satisfaction, acknowledge I lyed, when I said, they never quit their hold; for in that little time I have liv'd in the World, I thank God I have seen them forc'd to it more than once; but next time I will speak with more Caution and Truth, and only say, they have very good Teeth.
As for the Saints (you know, the overly serious ones with screwed-up faces and twisted mouths), I’ve pretty much given up on them; they’re friends to no one. They only love their altars and themselves; they have too much zeal to show any charity. They indulge in piety like sinners indulge in wine, and they argue about their religion like others do about drinking. So I hope no one takes their words seriously. But if anyone—dressed in flat shoes, a little collar, greasy hair, and a dirty face, who thinks he’s wiser than I am because he’s forty years older—gets offended by a story about a rooster and a bull, and a priest and a bulldog, I sincerely apologize. I really hope to earn that forgiveness by admitting my mistake and taking back what I said. Therefore, to satisfy him, I acknowledge that I lied when I said they never let go of their beliefs; in the short time I’ve been in this world, I’m thankful to have seen them change their stance more than once. Next time, I’ll be more careful and truthful, and I’ll just say they have very good teeth.
If I have offended any honest Gentleman of the Town, whose Friendship or good Word is worth the having, I am very sorry for it; I hope they will correct me as gently as they can, when they consider I have had no other Design, in running a very great Risk, than to divert (if possible) some part of their Spleen, in spite of their Wives and their Taxes.
If I've upset any decent guy in town whose friendship or good word is valuable, I'm really sorry about that. I hope they’ll point it out to me as gently as possible, considering I've had no other intention, in taking a big risk, than to lighten up some of their frustration, despite their wives and taxes.
One Word more about the Bawdy, and I have done. I own the first Night this thing was acted, some Indecencies had like to have happened; but it was not my Fault.
One more word about the crude stuff, and I'm done. I admit that on the first night this was performed, some inappropriateness almost occurred; but it wasn’t my fault.
The fine Gentleman of the Play, drinking his Mistress's Health in Nants Brandy, from six in the Morning to the time he waddled on upon the Stage in the Evening, had toasted himself up to such a pitch of Vigour, I confess I once gave Amanda for gone, and am since (with all due respect to Mrs. Rogers) very sorry she escaped; for I am confident a certain Lady (let no one take it to herself that is handsome) who highly blames the Play, for the Barrenness of the Conclusion, would then have allowed it a very natural Close.
The classy guy in the play, drinking his lady’s health in Nants Brandy from six in the morning until he waddled on stage in the evening, had toasting himself up to such a level of energy that I honestly thought Amanda was a goner. Since then, and with all due respect to Mrs. Rogers, I’m really sorry she got away; because I’m sure a certain lady (and no one should take this personally if they are attractive) who criticizes the play for its disappointing ending would have then accepted it as a very fitting conclusion.
PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Miss Cross.
Spoken by Miss Cross.
I doubt it will turn out that our Author was raised too quickly: For pay attention to those who unite with the Muses,
They hardly ever get pregnant, but when they do, they often lose the baby. It's the tough fate of those who are full of rhyme,
Still to be born before their time.
Among our recent poets, nature has created few;
The best parts—are only so through trade.
Still wanting something brings on the urge to write; Some of them have written because they lack money, And others don't, you know—because they lack wit.
They think honor calls them to write,
So they drag out in messy nature's anger, As some of you stylish guys do—when you get into a fight.
Even if the flow of wit is at its lowest,
A man might hope to show some glimpse of it,
On such a broad theme—as a Beau.
So, no matter how much true courage may fade,
Maybe there isn't a single Smock-Face here today,
But it's as bold as Cæsar—to take on a play.
It's six to four that you attack the strongest place. You are so passionate about this kind of venture,
Where there's no breach, that's where you have to enter.
But be advised— Even give the Hero and the Critique over, Because Nature has given you another task; }
She created her Beau, solely for her Whore. }
Dramatis Personæ.
| MEN. | |
|---|---|
| Sir Novelty Fashion, newly created Lord Foppington, | Mr. Cibber. |
| Young Fashion, his Brother, | Mr. Kent. |
| Loveless, Husband to Amanda, | Mr. Verbruggen. |
| Worthy, a Gentleman of the Town, | Mr. Powel. |
| Sir Tunbelly Clumsey, a Country Gentleman, | Mr. Bullock. |
| Sir John Friendly, his Neighbour, | Mr. Mills. |
| Coupler, a Matchmaker, | Mr. Johnson. |
| Bull, Chaplain to Sir Tunbelly, | Mr. Simpson. |
| Syringe, a Surgeon, | Mr. Haynes. |
| Lory, Servant to Young Fashion, | Mr. Dogget. |
| Shoemaker, Taylor, Perriwig-maker, | &c. |
| WOMEN. | |
| Amanda, Wife to Loveless, | Mrs. Rogers. |
| Berinthia, her Cousin, a young Widow, | Mrs. Verbruggen. |
| Miss Hoyden, a great Fortune, Daughter to Sir Tunbelly, | Mrs. Cross. |
| Nurse, her Governant, | Mrs. Powel. |
THE
RELAPSE;
OR,
VIRTUE in DANGER.
The Relapse: Virtue at Risk
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Loveless, reading.
Enter Loveless, reading.
Our Heaven is in our Minds!
Through all the wandering pleasures of my youth,
(Where nights and days feel completely filled with joy,
Where the False Facade of Luxury Displayed such charms, As might have disturbed the most sacred Hermit,
And made him stumble at his altar. I've never experienced a moment of peace like this. Here—in this cozy retreat,
My thoughts were free from all the worries of life,
Content with Success,
Freed from the harsh responsibilities of dependence,
[Pg 10] Free from envy, with ambition grounded,
The intense fire of uncontrollable desire
Reduced to a warm, pleasant fire of lawful love,
My life is flowing smoothly, and everything is good inside.
Enter Amanda.
Enter Amanda.
You find me reflecting on my happy state,
And I'm filled with thankful thoughts for Heaven and for you.
Would I could share it as well. The Gifts of its Joy,
That I can discover its best blessings, And shower them on your head forever.
Are made in the image of women like you.
Maybe when Time comes to an end,
When the aspiring Soul takes its Flight,
And leave this heavy lump of clay behind it,
It might have desires we aren't aware of,
And pleasures as refined as its desires—
But until that Day of Knowledge teaches me,
The highest blessing my mind can conceive,
[Holding her close.] She is cradled in my arms and deeply rooted in my heart.
Would Heaven grant that—
But we are dressed in black Mortality,
And the dark curtain of eternal night At last, we must part ways.
You might be exempt from it;
[Pg 11] Men discover gentler methods to satisfy their desires.
You'll find it's built on a solid foundation—
The Rock of Reason now backs my Love,
On which it stands so firmly,
The most intense Hurricane of wild Desire
Would, like the breath of a gently sleeping baby,
Walk on by and don't touch it.
May be lost. I wish I could keep you here in this peaceful harbor forever!
Forgive the weakness of a woman,
I feel uneasy about you staying in town for such a long time;
I know it's false to suggest pleasures; I understand the power of its deceptions; I understand the power of its attacks;
I understand the fragile defenses of nature; I know you’re a man—and I’m a wife.
For wives, the strongest argument you can make. When you would express your claim to my heart,
You can count on this; so stay calm,
Eliminate your fears, because they betray your peace:
Beware of them; they are suggesting distracting things.
That gossip back and forth creates a lot of trouble. Where they come from: But you will soon be the Mistress of all of them,
I'll help you with weapons for their destruction,
They will never raise their heads again.
You know the business is essential, that requires I’m going to London, and you have no reason to stop me. I know that I’m happy about the occasion: For my genuine conscience is my witness,
I have discovered a continuous series of such charms
In my retirement here with you,
I've never sent a wandering thought that way; But since, against my will, I'm being dragged once more To that uncomfortable Theater of Noise,
I am determined to make use of it,[Pg 12] I will prove to you that she's an old-fashioned Mistress,
Who has been so generous with her favors,
She's now lost all her charms,
And there isn’t a single attraction left to inspire me.
Her arrows (from this distance) can't hurt you,
But by approaching them, you give them strength:
The Dart that doesn’t have far to fly,
Will put the best of Armor to a dangerous test.
You won't understand any more for the person who wears it: So to put an end to your fears, I've made up my mind to dive into temptation this time. I'll provide you with an essay about all my virtues;
My old drinking buddies
Let's see what magic is left in wine: I'll take my place among them,
They will trap me in, Sing praises to their God and celebrate his glory;
Turn wild enthusiasts for his sake,
And animals to show him respect:
While I, a stubborn Atheist,
Gloomily watch, Without the Reverend Glass to guide him in his faith.
That for my sobriety,
Then for my Consistency——
I must seem like an object to you.[Pg 13] Of such a jumbled composition, Just think of me with affection,
It would be a weakness in your taste,
Your virtue could hardly respond.
My Prudence could not answer,
If I should push you further with my fears; I won’t bother you with them anymore.
A little time will show you they were unfounded;
This winter will be a tough test of my character;
Once it has passed, You'll be convinced it was not a false pretense,
There, all your worries will cease—
[Exeunt Hand in Hand.
[Exit Hand in Hand.]
SCENE, Whitehall.
Enter Young Fashion, Lory, and Waterman.
Enter Young Fashion, Lory, and Waterman.
Young Fash. Come, pay the Waterman, and take the Pormanteau.
Young Fash. Come on, pay the waterman and grab the suitcase.
Lory. Faith, Sir, I think the Waterman had as good take the Portmanteau, and pay himself.
Lory. Honestly, Sir, I think the Waterman might as well take the suitcase and help himself.
Young Fash. Why sure there's something left in't.
Young Fash. Of course, there's still something in it.
Lory. But a solitary old Waistcoat, upon my Honour, Sir.
Lory. But a lonely old waistcoat, I swear, sir.
Young Fash. Why, what's become of the blue Coat, Sirrah?
Young Fash. Why, what happened to the blue coat, dude?
Lory. Sir, 'twas eaten at Gravesend; the Reckoning came to thirty Shillings, and your Privy-Purse was worth but two Half-Crowns.
Lory. Sir, it was consumed at Gravesend; the total came to thirty shillings, and your private funds were only worth two half-crowns.
Young Fash. 'Tis very well.
Young Fash. That's very good.
Wat. Pray, Master, will you please to dispatch me?
Wat. Please, Master, can you send me off?
Young Fash. Ay, here a——Canst thou change me a Guinea?
Young Fash. Hey, can you change a Guinea for me?
Lory. [Aside.] Good.
Lory. [Aside.] Good.
Wat. Change a Guinea, Master! Ha, ha, your Honour's pleas'd to compliment.
Wat. Change a Guinea, Sir! Ha, ha, you’re being nice, my Lord.
Young Fash. I'gad I don't know how I shall pay thee then, for I have nothing but Gold about me.
Young Fash. I swear I don't know how I'll pay you then, because I only have Gold on me.
Lory. [Aside.]—Hum, hum.
Lory. [Aside.]—Um, um.
Young Fash. What dost thou expect, Friend?
Young Fash. What do you expect, friend?
Wat. Why, Master, so far against Wind and Tide, is richly worth half a Piece.
Wat. Why, Master, going so far against the wind and current is easily worth half a coin.
Young Fash. Why, faith, I think thou art a good conscionable Fellow. I'gad, I begin to have so good an Opinion of thy Honesty, I care not if I leave my Portmanteau with thee, till I send thee thy Money.
Young Fash. Honestly, I think you're a really decent guy. I swear, I'm starting to trust your honesty so much that I wouldn't mind leaving my suitcase with you until I send you your money.
Wat. Ha! God bless your Honour; I should be as willing to trust you, Master, but that you are, as a Man may say, a Stranger to me, and these are nimble Times; there are a great many Sharpers stirring. [Taking up the Portmanteau.] Well, Master, when your Worship sends the Money, your Portmanteau shall be forthcoming. My Name's Tugg, my Wife keeps a Brandy-Shop in Drab-Ally at Wapping.
Wat. Ha! God bless you, Sir; I’d be more than happy to trust you, but honestly, I don’t know you well, and these are tricky times; there are a lot of con artists out there. [Picking up the suitcase.] Well, Sir, when you send the money, your suitcase will be ready. My name's Tugg, and my wife runs a brandy shop in Drab-Ally at Wapping.
Young Fash. Very well; I'll send for't to-morrow.
Young Fash. Alright; I’ll ask for it tomorrow.
[Exit Wat.
[Exit Wat.
Lory. So—Now, Sir, I hope you'll own yourself a happy Man, you have outliv'd all your Cares.
Lory. So—Now, Sir, I hope you'll admit you're a happy man; you've outlived all your worries.
Young Fash. How so, Sir?
Young Fash. How's that, Sir?
Lory. Why you have nothing left to take care of.
Lory. You don't have anything left to look after.
Young Fash. Yes, Sirrah, I have myself and you to take care of still.
Young Fash. Yeah, I still need to take care of myself and you.
Lory. Sir, if you cou'd but prevail with somebody else to do that for you, I fancy we might both fare the better for't.
Lory. Sir, if you could just convince someone else to do that for you, I think we might both benefit from it.
Young Fash. Why, if thou canst tell me where to apply myself, I have at present so little Money, and so much Humility about me, I don't know but I may follow a Fool's Advice.
Young Fash. If you can tell me where to focus my efforts, I currently have very little money and a lot of humility, so I might just take a fool's advice.
Lory. Why then, Sir, your Fool advises you to lay aside all Animosity, and apply to Sir Novelty, your elder Brother.
Lory. So, Sir, your Fool suggests you put aside all Hostility and reach out to Sir Novelty, your older Brother.
Young Fash. Damn my elder Brother.
Young Fash. Damn my big brother.
Lory. With all my heart; but get him to redeem your Annuity, however.
Lory. I truly mean it; but please make sure he redeems your Annuity, though.
Young Fash. My Annuity! 'Sdeath, he's such a Dog, he would not give his Powder-Puff to redeem my Soul.
Young Fash. My Annuity! Damn, he's such a jerk, he wouldn't give up his powder puff to save my life.
Lory. Look you, Sir, you must wheedle him, or you must starve.
Lory. Listen, Sir, you have to charm him, or you’ll be out of luck.
Young Fash. Look you, Sir, I will neither wheedle him, nor starve.
Young Fash. Look, Sir, I won’t flatter him, nor will I hold back food.
Lory. Why? what will you do then?
Lory. Why? What are you going to do then?
Young Fash. I'll go into the Army.
Young Fash. I'm going to join the Army.
Lory. You can't take the Oaths; you are a Jacobite.
Lory. You can't take the Oaths; you're a Jacobite.
Young Fash. Thou may'st as well say I can't take Orders because I'm an Atheist.
Young Fash. You might as well say I can't take orders because I'm an atheist.
Lory. Sir, I ask your Pardon; I find I did not know the Strength of your Conscience, so well as I did the Weakness of your Purse.
Lory. Sir, I beg your pardon; I realize I didn't understand the strength of your principles as well as I understood the weakness of your finances.
Young Fash. Methinks, Sir, a Person of your Experience should have known, that the Strength of the Conscience proceeds from the Weakness of the Purse.
Young Fash. I think, Sir, someone with your experience should understand that the strength of the conscience comes from the weakness of the purse.
Lory. Sir, I am very glad to find you have a Conscience able to take care of us, let it proceed from what it will; but I desire you'll please to consider, that the Army alone will be but a scanty Maintenance for a Person of your Generosity (at least as Rents now are paid); I shall see you stand in damnable need of some auxiliary Guineas for your menu Plaisirs; I will therefore turn Fool once more for your Service, and advise you to go directly to your Brother.
Lory. Sir, I’m really glad to see you have a conscience that cares for us, no matter where it comes from; but I want you to consider that relying solely on the Army will provide barely enough for someone as generous as you (at least with the way rents are paid these days). You’re definitely going to need some extra cash for your menu Plaisirs; so I’ll act like a fool one more time for your benefit and suggest you go straight to your brother.
Young Fash. Art thou then so impregnable a Blockhead, to believe he'll help me with a Farthing?
Young Fash. Are you really such a stubborn fool to think he'll help me with a penny?
Lory. Not if you treat him, de haut en bas, as you use to do.
Lory. Not if you talk down to him like you usually do.
Young Fash. Why, how would'st have me treat him?
Young Fash. Why, how do you want me to treat him?
Lory. Like a Trout, tickle him.
Lory. Tickle him like a trout.
Young Fash. I can't flatter——
Young Fash. I can't sugarcoat—
Lory. Can you starve?
Lory. Can you go hungry?
Young Fash. Yes——
Young Fash. Yeah—
Lory. I can't; Good-by t'ye, Sir—
Lory. I can't; Goodbye to you, Sir—
[Going.
Going.
Young Fash. Stay, thou wilt distract me. What would'st thou have me to say to him?
Young Fash. Wait, you’re going to distract me. What do you want me to say to him?
Lory. Say nothing to him, apply yourself to his Favourites; speak to his Perriwig, his Cravat, his Feather,[Pg 16] his Snuff-box, and when you are well with them——desire him to lend you a Thousand Pounds. I'll engage you prosper.
Lory. Don't say anything to him, focus on his favorites; talk about his wig, his cravat, his feather,[Pg 16] his snuffbox, and once you're in good graces with them—ask him to lend you a thousand pounds. I guarantee you'll succeed.
Young Fash. 'Sdeath and Furies! Why was that Coxcomb thrust into the World before me? O Fortune—Fortune—thou art a Bitch, by Gad——
Young Fash. "Damn it! Why was that fool put into the world before me? Oh, Fortune—Fortune—you are such a bitch, I swear—"
[Exeunt.
[They leave.]
SCENE, A Dressing-Room.
Enter Lord Foppington in his Night-Gown.
Enter Lord Foppington in his pajamas.
Lord Fop. Page——
Lord Fop. Page——
[Enter Page.
[Go to Page.]
Page. Sir.
Page, sir.
Lord Fop. Sir! Pray, Sir, do me the Favour to teach your Tongue the Title the King has thought fit to honour me with.
Lord Fop. Sir! Please, Sir, do me the favor of teaching your tongue the title the King has chosen to honor me with.
Page. I ask your Lordship's Pardon, my Lord.
Page. I'm sorry, my Lord.
Lord Fop. O, you can pronounce the Word then——I thought it would have choak'd you——D'ye hear?
Lord Fop. Oh, so you can say the word now—I thought it would choke you—Do you hear?
Page. My Lord.
Page. My Lord.
Lord Fop. Call La Varole, I wou'd dress—
Lord Fop. Call La Varole, I want to get ready—
[Exit Page.
Exit Page.
Solus.
Alone.
Well, 'tis an unspeakable Pleasure to be a Man of Quality——Strike me dumb——My Lord——Your Lordship——My Lord Foppington—Ah! c'est quelque chose de beau, que le Diable m'emporte——
Well, it's an indescribable pleasure to be a man of quality—I'm speechless—My Lord—Your Lordship—My Lord Foppington—Ah! it's something beautiful, may the devil take me—
Why the Ladies were ready to puke at me, whilst I had nothing but Sir Novelty to recommend me to 'em——Sure whilst I was but a Knight, I was a very nauseous Fellow——Well, 'tis Ten Thousand Pawnd well given——stap my Vitals——
Why the ladies were ready to throw up at me, while I had nothing but Sir Novelty to recommend me to them——Sure, when I was just a knight, I was a really nauseating guy——Well, it’s ten thousand pounds well spent——damn my life——
Enter La Varole.
Enter La Varole.
Me Lord, de Shoemaker, de Taylor, de Hosier, de Sempstress, de Peru, be all ready, if your Lordship please to dress.
My Lord, the Shoemaker, the Tailor, the Hosier, the Seamstress, and the Peru are all ready, if it pleases your Lordship to get dressed.
Lord Fop. 'Tis well, admit 'em.
Lord Fop. It's fine, let them in.
La Var. Hey, Messieurs, entrez.
The Var. Hey, gentlemen, come in.
Enter Taylor, &c.
Enter Taylor, etc.
Lord Fop. So, Gentlemen, I hope you have all taken pains to shew yourselves Masters in your Professions.
Lord Fop. So, gentlemen, I hope you have all made an effort to show that you are experts in your fields.
Tayl. I think I may presume to say, Sir——
Tayl. I believe I can confidently say, Sir——
La Var. My Lord——you Clawn you.
La Var. My Lord—you clown you.
Tayl. Why, is he made a Lord?——My Lord, I ask your Lordship's Pardon; my Lord, I hope, my Lord, your Lordship will please to own, I have brought your Lordship as accomplish'd a Suit of Clothes, as ever Peer of England trode the Stage in, my Lord: Will your Lordship please to try 'em now?
Tayl. Why, has he been made a Lord?——My Lord, I ask for your pardon; I hope, my Lord, that you will agree I’ve brought you the most impressive suit of clothes that any Peer of England has ever worn on stage, my Lord: Will you please try them on now?
Lord Fop. Ay, but let my People dispose the Glasses so, that I may see myself before and behind; for I love to see myself all raund——
Lord Fop. Yes, but let my people arrange the mirrors like this, so I can see myself from the front and the back; because I love looking at myself from all angles—
[Whilst he puts on his Clothes, enter Young Fashion and Lory.
[While he puts on his clothes, enter Trendy Fashion and Lori.
Young Fash. Hey-dey, what the Devil have we here? Sure my Gentleman's grown a Favourite at Court, he has got so many People at his Levee.
Young Fash. Wow, what do we have here? Looks like my guy has become a favorite at court, with so many people showing up at his gathering.
Lo. Sir, these People come in order to make him a Favourite at Court, they are to establish him with the Ladies.
Look. Sir, these people have come to make him a favorite at court; they want to establish him with the ladies.
Young Fash. Good God! to what an Ebb of Taste are Women fallen, that it shou'd be in the power of a lac'd Coat to recommend a Gallant to 'em——
Young Fash. Good God! To what low point of taste have women fallen that a fancy coat can make a guy attractive to them—
Lo. Sir, Taylors and Perriwig-makers are now become the Bawds of the Nation, 'tis they debauch all the Women.
Lo. Sir, tailors and wig-makers have now become the pimps of the nation; they're the ones who corrupt all the women.
Young Fash. Thou sayest true; for there's that Fop now, has not by Nature wherewithal to move a Cook-maid, and by that time these Fellows have done with him, I'gad he shall melt down a Countess——But now for my Reception, I engage it shall be as cold a one, as a Courtier's to his Friend, who comes to put him in mind of his Promise.
Young Fash. You’re right; because that Dandy over there can’t even impress a maid, and by the time these guys are done with him, I swear he’ll charm a Countess—But as for how I’ll be received, I guarantee it’ll be as chilly as a Courtier’s greeting to a Friend who reminds him of his Promise.
Lord Fop. to his Taylor.] Death and eternal Tartures! Sir, I say the Packet's too high by a Foot.
Lord Fop. to his Tailor.] Damn it, I say the package is a foot too tall!
Tayl. My Lord, if it had been an Inch lower, it would[Pg 18] not have held your Lordship's Pocket-Handkerchief.
Tayl. My Lord, if it had been an inch lower, it wouldn't have held your Lordship's pocket handkerchief.
Lord Fop. Rat my Packet-Handkerchief! Have not I a Page to carry it? You may make him a Packet up to his Chin a purpose for it; but I will not have mine come so near my Face.
Lord Fop. Ugh, my handkerchief! Don’t I have a servant to carry it? You can pile it up to his chin on purpose, but I won’t have mine so close to my face.
Tayl. 'Tis not for me to dispute your Lordship's Fancy.
Tayl. It's not for me to argue with your Lordship's opinion.
Young Fash. to Lory.] His Lordship! Lory, did you observe that?
Young Fash. to Lory.] His Lordship! Lory, did you catch that?
Lo. Yes, Sir; I always thought 'twould end there. Now, I hope, you'll have a little more Respect for him.
Lo. Yes, Sir; I always thought it would end there. Now, I hope you’ll have a bit more respect for him.
Young Fash. Respect! Damn him for a Coxcomb; now has he ruin'd his Estate to buy a Title, that he may be a Fool of the first Rate: But let's accost him——
Young Fash. Respect! Damn him for a fool; now he has ruined his estate to buy a title, just so he can be a first-rate idiot. But let's approach him—
To Lord Fop.] Brother, I'm your Humble Servant.
To Lord Fop.] Brother, I'm your humble servant.
Lord Fop. O Lard, Tam; I did not expect you in England: Brother, I am glad to see you——
Lord Fop. Oh wow, Tam; I didn’t expect you in England: Brother, I’m happy to see you——
Turning to his Taylor.] Look you, Sir. I shall never be reconcil'd to this nauseous Packet; therefore pray get me another Suit with all manner of Expedition, for this is my eternal Aversion. Mrs. Callicoe, are not you of my Mind?
Turning to his Taylor.] Look, Sir. I will never be okay with this disgusting outfit; so please get me another suit as quickly as you can, because this is my lifelong disgust. Mrs. Callicoe, don't you agree with me?
Semp. O, directly, my Lord, it can never be too low—
Semp. Oh, absolutely, my Lord, it can never be too low—
Lord Fop. You are passitively in the right on't, for the Packet becomes no part of the Body but the Knee.
Lord Fop. You're definitely right about that; the packet is part of the body, but only the knee.
Semp. I hope your Lordship is pleas'd with your Steenkirk.
Semp. I hope you're happy with your Steenkirk, my lord.
Lord Fop. In love with it, stap my Vitals. Bring your Bill, you shall be paid to-marrow—
Lord Fop. I’m totally in love with it, I swear. Bring your bill, and you’ll get paid tomorrow—
Semp. I humbly thank your Honour—
Thanks, your Honor.
[Exit Semp.
[Exit Semp.]
Lord Fop. Hark thee, Shoemaker, these Shoes a'n't ugly, but they don't fit me.
Lord Fop. Listen, Shoemaker, these shoes aren't ugly, but they don't fit me.
Shoe. My Lord, my thinks they fit you very well.
Shoe. My Lord, I think they fit you perfectly.
Lord Fop. They hurt me just below the Instep.
Lord Fop. They hurt me right below the ankle.
Shoe. [Feeling his Foot.] My Lord, they don't hurt you there.
Shoe. [Feeling his Foot.] My Lord, that doesn’t hurt you there.
Lord Fop. I tell thee, they pinch me execrably.
Lord Fop. I'm telling you, they annoy me terribly.
Shoe. My Lord, if they pinch you, I'll be bound to be hang'd, that's all.
Shoe. My Lord, if they hurt you, I'll definitely end up getting hanged, that's for sure.
Lord Fop. Why, wilt thou undertake to persuade me I cannot feel?
Lord Fop. Why are you trying to convince me that I can't feel?
Shoe. Your Lordship may please to feel what you think fit; but that Shoe does not hurt you—I think I understand my Trade——
Shoe. Your Lordship can feel however you like, but that shoe doesn’t hurt you—I believe I know my business.
Lord Fop. Now by all that's great and powerful, thou art an incomprehensible Coxcomb; but thou makest good Shoes, and so I'll bear with thee.
Lord Fop. Seriously, you are such an infuriating fool; but you make good shoes, so I’ll put up with you.
Shoe. My Lord, I have work'd for half the People of Quality in Town these Twenty Years; and 'tis very hard I should not know when a Shoe hurts, and when it don't.
Shoe. My Lord, I’ve worked for half the high society in town for the past twenty years, and it’s pretty tough that I shouldn’t know when a shoe hurts and when it doesn’t.
Lord Fop. Well, pr'ythee, begone about thy Business.
Lord Fop. Well, please, get on with your business.
[Exit Shoe.
Exit Shoe.
[To the Hosier.] Mr. Mend Legs, a Word with you; the Calves of the Stockings are thicken'd a little too much. They make my Legs look like a Chairman's——
[To the Hosier.] Mr. Mend Legs, I need to talk to you; the calves of the stockings are a bit too thick. They make my legs look like a chairman's—
Mend. My Lord, my thinks they look mighty well.
Mend. My Lord, I think they look really great.
Lord Fop. Ay, but you are not so good a Judge of those things as I am, I have study'd them all my Life; therefore pray let the next be the thickness of a Crawn-piece less——[Aside.] If the Town takes notice my Legs are fallen away, 'twill be attributed to the Violence of some new Intrigue.
Lord Fop. Yes, but you don't have as good a grasp on these things as I do; I've studied them my whole life. So, please, let the next one be just a little less than the thickness of a crown piece——[Aside.] If the town notices that my legs have slimmed down, they'll assume it's because of some new scandal.
To the Perriwig-maker.] Come, Mr. Foretop, let me see what you have done, and then the Fatigue of the Morning will be over.
To the Perriwig-maker.] Come on, Mr. Foretop, let me see what you've created, and then this tiring morning will finally be done.
Foretop. My Lord, I have done what I defy any Prince in Europe to out-do; I have made you a Perriwig so long, and so full of Hair, it will serve you for a Hat and Cloak in all Weathers.
Foretop. My Lord, I’ve accomplished something that I challenge any Prince in Europe to surpass; I’ve made you a wig that is so long and so packed with hair, it will work as both a hat and a cloak in any weather.
Lord Fop. Then thou hast made me thy Friend to Eternity: Come, comb it out.
Lord Fop. So you’ve made me your friend for life: Come on, let's sort this out.
Young Fash. Well, Lory, What do'st think on't? A very friendly Reception from a Brother after Three Years Absence!
Young Fash. Well, Lory, what do you think about that? A very warm welcome from a brother after three years away!
Lory. Why, Sir, 'tis your own Fault; we seldom care for those that don't love what we love: if you wou'd creep into his Heart, you must enter into his Pleasures—Here you have stood ever since you came in, and have not commended any one thing that belongs to him.
Lory. Well, Sir, it’s your own fault; we rarely care for those who don’t love what we love. If you want to get into his heart, you need to engage with his interests—You've been standing here since you arrived and haven’t complimented anything that belongs to him.
Young Fash. Nor never shall, while they belong to a Coxcomb.
Young Fash. Nor will they ever do so, as long as they belong to a fool.
Lory. Then, Sir, you must be content to pick a hungry Bone.
Lory. Then, Sir, you have to be okay with choosing a hungry Bone.
Young Fash. No, Sir, I'll crack it, and get to the Marrow before I have done.
Young Fash. No, Sir, I’ll figure it out and get to the heart of the matter before I’m done.
Lord Fop. Gad's Curse! Mr. Foretop, you don't intend to put this upon me for a full Perriwig?
Lord Fop. Goodness! Mr. Foretop, you can’t be serious about making me wear this whole wig?
Fore. Not a full one, my Lord! I don't know what your Lordship may please to call a full one, but I have cramm'd twenty Ounces of Hair into it.
Fore. Not a full one, my Lord! I don’t know what you’d consider a full one, but I’ve stuffed twenty ounces of hair into it.
Lord Fop. What it may be by Weight, Sir, I shall not dispute; but by Tale, there are not nine Hairs on a side.
Lord Fop. I won't argue about how much it weighs, Sir, but when it comes to counting, there aren't nine hairs on each side.
Fore. O Lord! O Lord! O Lord! Why, as God shall judge me, your Honor's Side-Face is reduc'd to the Tip of your Nose.
Fore. Oh Lord! Oh Lord! Oh Lord! I swear, as God will judge me, your Honor's Side-Face is now just the Tip of your Nose.
Lord Fop. My Side-Face may be in an Eclipse for aught I know; but I'm sure my Full-Face is like the Full-moon.
Lord Fop. My profile might be in the shadows for all I know, but I’m certain my face is as bright as a full moon.
Fore. Heaven bless my Eye-sight——[Rubbing his Eyes.] Sure I look thro' the wrong end of the Perspective; for by my Faith, an't please your Honour, the broadest place I see in your Face does not seem to me to be two Inches diameter.
Fore. God bless my eyesight—[Rubbing his Eyes.] I must be looking through the wrong end of the telescope; for, honestly, if it pleases your Honor, the widest part I see on your face doesn’t look to me like it's two inches across.
Lord Fop. If it did, it would just be two Inches too broad; for a Perriwig to a Man, should be like a Mask to a Woman, nothing should be seen but his Eyes—
Lord Fop. If it did, it would just be two inches too wide; a wig on a man should be like a mask on a woman—nothing should be visible except for his eyes—
Fore. My Lord, I have done; if you please to have more Hair in your Wig, I'll put it in.
Fore. My Lord, I'm done; if you'd like more hair in your wig, I can add it.
Lord Fop. Passitively, yes.
Lord Fop. Absolutely, yes.
Fore. Shall I take it back now, my Lord?
Fore. Should I bring it back now, my Lord?
Lord Fop. No: I'll wear it to-day, tho' it shew such a manstrous pair of Cheeks, stap my Vitals, I shall be taken for a Trumpeter.
Lord Fop. No way: I'm wearing it today, even though it shows such a huge pair of cheeks. Good grief, I’ll be mistaken for a trumpeter.
[Exit Fore.
Exit Fore.
Young Fash. Now your People of Business are gone, Brother, I hope I may obtain a quarter of an Hour's Audience of you.
Young Fash. Now that your business associates have left, brother, I hope I can have a chance to speak with you for about fifteen minutes.
Lord Fop. Faith, Tam, I must beg you'll excuse me at this time, for I must away to the House of Lards immediately; my Lady Teaser's Case is to come on to-day, and I would not be absent for the Salvation of Mankind. Hey, Page! Is the Coach at the Door?
Lord Fop. Honestly, Tam, I need you to excuse me right now because I have to head to the House of Lords immediately; my Lady Teaser's case is up today, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. Hey, Page! Is the coach at the door?
Page. Yes, my Lord.
Page. Yes, my Lord.
Lord Fop. You'll excuse me, Brother.
Lord Fop. Please excuse me, Brother.
[Going.
Going.
Young Fash. Shall you be back at Dinner?
Young Fash. Will you be back for dinner?
Lord Fop. As Gad shall jedge me, I can't tell; for 'tis passible I may dine with some of aur Hause at Lacket's.
Lord Fop. I swear, I have no idea; it’s possible I might have dinner with some folks from our house at Lacket's.
Young Fash. Shall I meet you there? for I must needs talk with you.
Young Fash. Should I meet you there? I really need to talk to you.
Lord Fop. That, I'm afraid, mayn't be so praper; far the Lards I commonly eat with, are a People of a nice Conversation; and you know, Tam, your Education has been a little at large: but if you'll stay here, you'll find a Family Dinner. Hey, Fellow! What is there for Dinner? There's Beef: I suppose my Brother will eat Beef. Dear Tam, I'm glad to see thee in England, stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. I'm afraid that might not be appropriate; the people I usually dine with are quite particular in their conversation. And you know, Tam, your upbringing has been a bit unconventional. But if you stay here, you'll find a family dinner. Hey, you there! What's for dinner? There's beef: I assume my brother will eat beef. Dear Tam, I'm really glad to see you in England, I swear.
[Exit, with his Equipage.
Leave, with his gear.
Young Fash. Hell and Furies, is this to be borne?
Young Fash. Hell and Furies, can we really endure this?
Lory. Faith, Sir, I cou'd almost have given him a knock o' th' Pate myself.
Lory. Honestly, Sir, I could have almost given him a hit on the head myself.
Young Fash. 'Tis enough, I will now shew you the excess of my Passion by being very calm: Come, Lory, lay your Loggerhead to mine, and in cool Blood let us contrive his Destruction.
Young Fash. That's enough, I will now show you the depth of my feelings by staying very calm: Come, Lory, put your head next to mine, and let's plan his downfall with a clear mind.
Lory. Here comes a Head, Sir, would contrive it better than us both, if he wou'd but join in the Confederacy.
Lory. Here comes someone who could manage this better than both of us, if only he would join the team.
Enter Coupler.
Enter Coupler.
Young Fash. By this Light, old Coupler alive still! Why, how now, Matchmaker, art thou here still to plague the World with Matrimony? You old Bawd, how have you the Impudence to be hobbling out of your Grave twenty Years after you are rotten!
Young Fash. Wow, old Coupler is still alive! What’s up, Matchmaker, are you still around to torment the world with marriage? You old Pimp, how do you have the nerve to creep out of your grave twenty years after you've decomposed!
Coup. When you begin to rot, Sirrah, you'll go off like a Pippin, one Winter will send you to the Devil. What Mischief brings you home again? Ha! You young lascivious Rogue, you: Let me put my Hand into your Bosom, Sirrah.
Coup. When you start to decay, dude, you’ll spoil like a bad apple; one winter will send you straight to hell. What trouble brings you back here? Ha! You little wild rogue, you: let me put my hand on your chest, dude.
Young Fash. Stand off, old Sodom.
Young Fash. Back off, old Sodom.
Coup. Nay, pr'ythee now don't be so coy.
Coup. No, please don’t be so shy.
Young Fash. Keep your Hands to yourself, you old Dog you, or I'll wring your Nose off.
Young Fash. Keep your hands to yourself, you old dog, or I'll twist your nose off.
Coup. Hast thou then been a Year in Italy, and brought home a Fool at last? By my Conscience, the young Fellows of this Age profit no more by their going abroad, than they do by their going to Church. Sirrah, Sirrah, if you are not hang'd before you come to my Years, you'll know a Cock from a Hen. But come, I'm still a Friend to thy Person, tho' I have a Contempt of thy Understanding; and therefore I would willingly know thy Condition, that I may see whether thou standest in need of my Assistance; for Widows swarm, my Boy, the Town's infested with 'em.
Coup. So you've spent a year in Italy and ended up bringing back a fool? Honestly, the young people of this age gain no more from traveling than they do from going to church. Listen here, if you’re not hanged before you reach my age, you'll know a cock from a hen. But anyway, I still care about you, even though I think very little of your intelligence; so I’d like to know about your situation to see if you need my help because there are plenty of widows around, my boy, the town is crawling with them.
Young Fash. I stand in need of any body's Assistance, that will help me to cut my elder Brother's Throat, without the Risque of being hang'd for him.
Young Fash. I need anyone's help to cut my older brother's throat without the risk of being hanged for it.
Coup. I'gad, Sirrah, I cou'd help thee to do him almost as good a turn, without the danger of being burnt in the Hand for't.
Coup. I swear, my friend, I could help you do him a favor nearly as good, without the risk of being punished for it.
Young Fash. Say'st thou so, old Satan? Shew me but that, and my Soul is thine.
Young Fash. Is that what you say, old Satan? Just show me that, and my soul belongs to you.
Coup. Pox o'thy Soul! give me thy warm Body, Sirrah; I shall have a substantial Title to't when I tell thee my Project.
Coup. Curse my soul! Give me your warm body, buddy; I’ll have a good reason for it when I share my plan with you.
Young Fash. Out with it then, dear Dad, and take possession as soon as thou wilt.
Young Fash. Go ahead and say it, dear Dad, and take control whenever you want.
Coup. Sayest thou so, my Hephestion? Why, then, thus lies the Scene: but hold; who's that? If we are heard we are undone.
Coup. Is that what you're saying, my Hephestion? Well then, this is how it is: but wait; who's that? If we are overheard, we're finished.
Young Fash. What have you forgot Lory?
Young Fash. What did you forget, Lory?
Coup. Who, trusty Lory, is it thee?
Coup. Who, dear Lory, is it?
Lory. At your Service, Sir.
Lory. At your service, Sir.
Coup. Give me thy Hand, old Boy; I'gad I did not know thee again; but I remember thy Honesty, tho' I did not thy Face; I think thou hadst like to have been hang'd once or twice for thy Master.
Coup. Give me your hand, old friend; I swear I didn't recognize you at first; but I remember your honesty, even if I forgot your face; I think you almost got hanged once or twice for your boss.
Lory. Sir, I was very near once having that Honour.
Lory. Sir, I was very close to having that honor once.
Coup. Well, live and hope; don't be discourag'd; eat with him, and drink with him, and do what he bids thee, and it may be thy Reward at last, as well as another's.
Coup. Well, live and stay hopeful; don’t get discouraged; eat with him, drink with him, and do what he asks you to do, and it might lead to your Reward in the end, just like for someone else.
To Young Fash.] Well, Sir, you must know I have done you the Kindness to make up a Match for your Brother.
To Young Fash.] Well, Sir, you should know I’ve done you the favor of setting up a match for your brother.
Young Fash. I am very much beholden to you, truly.
Young Fash. I really appreciate it, thank you.
Coup. You may be, Sirrah, before the Wedding-day yet; the Lady is a great Heiress; fifteen hundred Pound a year, and a great Bag of Money; the Match is concluded, the Writings are drawn, and the Pipkin's to be crack'd in a Fortnight—Now you must know, Stripling (with Respect to your Mother), your Brother's the Son of a Whore.
Coup. You might still have time, my friend, before the wedding day; the lady is a wealthy heiress with an annual income of fifteen hundred pounds and a substantial amount of cash. The match is set, the documents are ready, and the event is planned for two weeks from now—Now you should know, young man (with all due respect to your mother), your brother is the son of a prostitute.
Young Fash. Good.
Young Fash. Awesome.
Coup. He has given me a Bond of a Thousand Pounds for helping him to this Fortune, and has promis'd me as much more in ready Money upon the Day of Marriage; which, I understand by a Friend, he ne'er designs to pay me; if therefore you will be a generous young Dog, and secure me five thousand Pounds, I'll be a covetous old Rogue, and help you to the Lady.
Coup. He’s given me a bond for a thousand pounds for helping him achieve this fortune, and he’s promised me an equal amount in cash on the day of the wedding; however, I've heard from a friend that he never intends to pay me. So, if you’ll be a generous young guy and secure me five thousand pounds, I’ll be a greedy old rogue and help you win the lady.
Young Fash. I'gad, if thou can'st bring this about, I'll have thy Statue cast in Brass. But don't you doat, you old Pandar you, when you talk at this rate?
Young Fash. I swear, if you can make this happen, I'll have your statue made in brass. But don’t go crazy, you old lecher, when you talk like this!
Coup. That your youthful Parts shall judge of: This plump Partridge, that I tell you of, lives in the Country, fifty Miles off, with her honoured Parents, in a lonely old House which nobody comes near; she never goes abroad, nor sees Company at home: To prevent all Misfortunes, she has her Breeding within Doors, the Parson of the Parish teaches her to play on the Bass-Viol, the Clerk to sing, her Nurse to dress, and her Father to dance: In short, nobody can give you admittance there but I; nor can I do it any other way, than by making you pass for your Brother.
Coup. That’s for your youthful self to decide: This plump partridge I’m talking about lives in the countryside, fifty miles away, with her respected parents, in a lonely old house that nobody visits; she never goes out or entertains guests at home. To avoid any mishaps, she’s raised indoors, with the parish priest teaching her to play the bass viol, the clerk teaching her to sing, her nurse teaching her to dress, and her father teaching her to dance. In short, the only way you’ll get access there is through me, and I can only do it by having you pretend to be your brother.
Young Fash. And how the Devil wilt thou do that?
Young Fash. And how on earth are you going to do that?
Coup. Without the Devil's Aid, I warrant thee. Thy Brother's Face not one of the Family ever saw; the whole Business has been manag'd by me, and all the Letters go thro' my Hands: The last that was writ to Sir Tunbelly Clumsey (for that's the old Gentleman's Name) was to tell him, his Lordship would be down in a Fortnight to consummate. Now you shall go away immediately; pretend you writ that letter only to have the romantick Pleasure of surprizing your Mistress; fall desperately in Love, as[Pg 24] soon as you see her; make that your Plea for marrying her immediately; and when the fatigue of the Wedding-night's over, you shall send me a swinging Purse of Gold, you Dog you.
Coup. I swear, without the Devil's help. Your brother's face is something no one in the family has ever seen; I've been managing the whole situation, and all the letters go through me. The last one I wrote to Sir Tunbelly Clumsey (that’s the old gentleman's name) informed him that his lordship would be arriving in a fortnight to finalize everything. Now, you need to leave right away; act like you wrote that letter just to have the romantic thrill of surprising your mistress; fall hopelessly in love as soon as you see her; use that as your excuse to marry her immediately; and once the wedding night is over, you’ll send me a hefty purse of gold, you dog.
Young Fash. I'gad, old Dad, I'll put my Hand in thy Bosom now——
Young Fash. I swear, old Dad, I'm going to put my hand on your chest now—
Coup. Ah, you young hot lusty Thief, let me muzzle you——
Coup. Ah, you eager, wild Thief, let me silence you——
[Kissing.
Kissing.
Sirrah, let me muzzle you.
Dude, let me cut you off.
Young Fash. 'Psha, the old Letcher——
Young Fash. 'Psha, the old perv—
[Aside.
[Aside.]
Coup. Well; I'll warrant thou hast not a Farthing of Money in thy Pocket now; no, one may see it in thy Face——
Coup. Well, I bet you don’t have a penny to your name right now; no, you can see it in your face——
Young Fash. Not a Sous, by Jupiter.
Young Fash. Not a Sous, by Jupiter.
Coup. Must I advance then?—Well, Sirrah, be at my Lodgings in half an Hour, and I'll see what may be done; we'll sign and seal, and eat a Pullet, and when I have given thee some farther Instructions, thou shalt hoist Sail and be gone——[Kissing.]——T'other Buss, and so adieu.
Coup. Should I go ahead then?—Alright, my friend, be at my place in half an hour, and I'll see what we can do; we'll sign and seal things, have some chicken, and when I’ve given you some more instructions, you can set sail and leave——[Kissing.]——Another kiss, and goodbye.
Young Fash. Um, 'psha.
Young Fash. Um, 'no way.
Coup. Ah; you young warm Dog, you; what a delicious Night will the Bride have on't!
Coup. Ah; you young, hot-headed guy, you; what a wonderful night the bride will have!
[Exit Coupler.
Exit Coupler.
Young Fash. So, Lory; Providence, thou seest, at last takes care of Men of Merit: We are in a fair way to be great People.
Young Fash. So, Lory; it seems that Providence is finally looking out for talented people like us: we’re on our way to becoming important figures.
Lo. Ay, Sir, if the Devil don't step between the Cup and the Lip, as he uses to do.
Lo. Yeah, sir, if the Devil doesn't get in the way between the cup and the lip, like he usually does.
Young Fash. Why, faith, he has play'd me many a damn'd Trick to spoil my Fortune, and, I'gad, I'm almost afraid he's at work about it again now; but if I should tell thee how, thou'dst wonder at me.
Young Fash. Honestly, he's pulled so many messed up tricks on me to ruin my luck, and, I swear, I'm almost scared he's trying to do it again right now; but if I told you how, you'd be amazed at me.
Lo. Indeed, Sir, I shou'd not.
Lo. Certainly, Sir, I shouldn't.
Young Fash. How dost know?
Young Fash. How do you know?
Lo. Because, Sir, I have wonder'd at you so often, I can wonder at you no more.
Lo. Because, Sir, I've been amazed by you so many times, I can't be amazed anymore.
Young Fash. No! what wouldst thou say if a Qualm of Conscience should spoil my Design?
Young Fash. No! What would you say if a pang of conscience ruined my plan?
Lo. I wou'd eat my Words, and wonder more than ever.
Look. I would eat my words, and be more surprised than ever.
Young Fash. Why, faith, Lory, tho' I am a young[Pg 25] Rake-hell, and have play'd many a Roguish Trick; this is so full grown a Cheat, I find I must take pains to come up to't; I have Scruples——
Young Fash. Well, honestly, Lory, even though I'm a young[Pg 25] Rake-hell and have done a ton of mischievous things; this is such a huge deception that I realize I have to work hard to match it; I have my doubts——
Lo. They are strong Symptoms of Death; if you find they increase, pray, Sir, make your Will.
Look. These are strong signs of death; if you notice they get worse, please, sir, make your will.
Young Fash. No, my Conscience shan't starve me, neither. But thus far I'll hearken to it; before I execute this Project, I'll try my Brother to the bottom, I'll speak to him with the Temper of a Philosopher; my Reasons (tho' they press him home) shall yet be cloth'd with so much Modesty, not one of all the Truths they urge, shall be so naked to offend his Sight: if he has yet so much Humanity about him, as to assist me (tho' with a moderate Aid) I'll drop my Project at his Feet, and shew him how I can do for him, much more than what I ask he'd do for me. This one conclusive Trial of him I resolve to make—
Young Fash. No, my conscience won't starve me either. But for now, I’ll listen to it; before I go through with this plan, I’ll really get to know my brother. I’ll talk to him calmly and thoughtfully; my reasons (even though they hit hard) will be presented with enough modesty that none of the truths I present will be too harsh for him to handle. If he still has any decency left and is willing to help me (even just a little), I’ll drop my plan at his feet and show him how I can do much more for him than what I’m asking he do for me. This one final test of him is what I’m determined to try—
If I win his heart, that's great; if not, I will suppress my conscience for the sake of my plan. }
[Exeunt.
Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Enter Loveless and Amanda.
Enter Loveless and Amanda.
Lov. How do you like these Lodgings, my Dear? For my part, I am so well pleased with them, I shall hardly remove whilst we stay in Town, if you are satisfy'd.
Lov. How do you like these accommodations, my dear? Personally, I’m so happy with them that I probably won’t move while we’re in town, as long as you’re satisfied.
Aman. I am satisfy'd with every thing that pleases you; else I had not come to Town at all.
Aman. I'm happy with anything that makes you happy; otherwise, I wouldn't have come to town at all.
Lov. O! a little of the Noise and Bustle of the World sweetens the Pleasures of Retreat: We shall find the Charms of our Retirement doubled, when we return to it.
Lov. Oh! a bit of the noise and hustle of the world adds sweetness to the joys of retreat: We'll discover the charms of our time away are doubled when we return to it.
Aman. That pleasing Prospect will be my chiefest Entertainment, whilst, much against my Will, I am obliged[Pg 26] to stand surrounded with these empty Pleasures, which 'tis so much the Fashion to be fond of.
Aman. That beautiful view will be my main source of enjoyment, while, much to my dismay, I find myself surrounded by these pointless pleasures that everyone seems so obsessed with.[Pg 26]
Lov. I own most of them are indeed but empty; nay, so empty, that one would wonder by what Magick Power they act, when they induce us to be vicious for their sakes. Yet some there are we may speak kindlier of: There are Delights, of which a private Life is destitute, which may divert an honest Man, and be a harmless Entertainment to a virtuous Woman. The Conversation of the Town is one; and truly (with some small Allowances) the Plays, I think, may be esteem'd another.
Lov. Most of them are actually pretty shallow; in fact, so shallow that you’d wonder what magical power they have that makes us act poorly for their sake. However, there are some we can speak more kindly about: There are pleasures that ordinary life lacks, which can entertain an honest man and provide harmless enjoyment for a virtuous woman. The town's conversations are one example, and honestly, with a few small exceptions, I think plays can be considered another.
Aman. The Plays, I must confess, have some small Charms; and wou'd have more, wou'd they restrain that loose obscene Encouragement to Vice, which shocks, if not the Virtue of some Women, at least the Modesty of all.
Aman. The plays, I have to admit, have some appeal; and they would have more if they toned down that crude encouragement of wrongdoing, which offends, if not the virtue of some women, at least the modesty of all.
Lov. But till that Reformation can be made, I would not leave the wholesome Corn for some intruding Tares that grow among it. Doubtless the Moral of a well-wrought Scene is of prevailing Force——Last Night there happen'd one that mov'd me strangely.
Lov. But until that change can happen, I wouldn't abandon the good grain for some weeds that are growing among it. It's clear that the message of a well-crafted scene is powerful——Last night, something happened that really moved me.
Aman. Pray, what was that?
Aman. What was that?
Lov. Why 'twas about—but 'tis not worth repeating.
Lov. Well, it was something, but it’s not worth bringing up again.
Aman. Yes, pray let me know it.
Aman. Yes, just let me know.
Lov. No, I think 'tis as well let alone.
Lov. No, I think it's better to leave it alone.
Aman. Nay, now you make me have a mind to know.
Aman. No, now you've got me curious.
Lov. 'Twas a foolish thing: You'd perhaps grow jealous shou'd I tell it you, tho' without a Cause, Heaven knows.
Lov. It was a silly thing: You might get jealous if I tell you about it, even though there's no reason for it, God knows.
Aman. I shall begin to think I have cause, if you persist in making it a Secret.
Aman. I’m starting to think I have a reason to be concerned if you keep this a secret.
Lov. I'll then convince you you have none, by making it no longer so. Know then, I happen'd in the Play to find my very Character, only with the Addition of a Relapse; which struck me so, I put a sudden Stop to a most harmless Entertainment, which till then diverted me between the Acts. 'Twas to admire the Workmanship of Nature, in the Face of a young Lady that sat some distance from me, she was so exquisitely handsome——
Lov. I'll show you that you have none by making it so. Just know that in the play, I came across my exact character, but with a twist; it hit me so hard that I abruptly ended a harmless distraction that had entertained me between the acts. I was appreciating the beauty of nature in the face of a young lady sitting a little way off, she was so stunningly attractive——
Aman. So exquisitely handsome!
Aman. So stunningly attractive!
Lov. Why do you repeat my Words, my Dear?
Lov. Why do you keep repeating what I said, my dear?
Aman. Because you seem'd to speak them with such Pleasure, I thought I might oblige you with their Echo.
Aman. Since you appeared to enjoy saying them so much, I thought I’d respond with their echo.
Lov. Then you are alarmed, Amanda?
Love. So you're worried, Amanda?
Aman. It is my Duty to be so, when you are in danger.
Aman. It’s my responsibility to be this way when you’re in danger.
Lov. You are too quick in apprehending for me; all will be well when you have heard me out. I do confess I gaz'd upon her, nay, eagerly I gaz'd upon her.
Lov. You're jumping to conclusions too fast for me; everything will be fine once you let me finish. I do admit I stared at her, in fact, I eagerly stared at her.
Aman. Eagerly! That's with Desire.
Aman. Eagerly! That's with Desire.
Lov. No, I desir'd her not: I view'd her with a World of Admiration, but not one Glance of Love.
Lov. No, I didn't want her: I looked at her with a lot of admiration, but not a single glance of love.
Aman. Take heed of trusting to such nice Distinctions.
Aman. Be careful about relying on such fine distinctions.
Lov. I did take heed; for observing in the Play, that he who seem'd to represent me there, was, by an Accident like this, unwarily surpriz'd into a Net, in which he lay a poor intangled Slave, and brought a Train of Mischiefs on his Head, I snatch'd my Eyes away; they pleaded hard for leave to look again, but I grew absolute, and they obey'd.
Lov. I paid attention; because I noticed in the play that the character who seemed to represent me got caught in a trap by accident. He ended up stuck like a poor entangled slave and brought a bunch of troubles upon himself. I turned my eyes away; they argued strongly to look again, but I was firm, and they complied.
Aman. Were they the only things that were inquisitive? Had I been in your place, my Tongue, I fancy, had been curious too: I shou'd have ask'd her Name, and where she liv'd (yet still without Design:)—Who was she, pray?
Aman. Were those the only things that were curious? If I were in your position, my Tongue, I think I would have been curious too: I would have asked her name and where she lived (yet still without any intention:)—Who was she, by the way?
Lov. Indeed I cannot tell.
Love. I really can't say.
Aman. You will not tell.
Aman. You won't say anything.
Lov. By all that's sacred, then, I did not ask.
Lov. I promise, I didn’t ask.
Aman. Nor do you know what Company was with her?
Aman. And do you even know what company she had?
Lov. I do not.
Love. I don't.
Aman. Then I am calm again.
Aman. Now I'm calm again.
Lov. Why, were you disturb'd?
Lov. Why, were you upset?
Aman. Had I then no cause?
Aman. Did I have no reason?
Lov. None certainly.
Love. Definitely none.
Aman. I thought I had.
Aman. I thought I did.
Lov. But you thought wrong, Amanda; For turn the Case, and let it be your Story; Should you come home,[Pg 28] and tell me you had seen a handsome Man, shou'd I grow jealous because you had Eyes?
Lov. But you’re mistaken, Amanda; If we switch roles and it’s your story instead, if you came home,[Pg 28] and told me you had seen a good-looking guy, would I get jealous just because you noticed him?
Aman. But shou'd I tell you he were exquisitely so; that I had gaz'd on him with Admiration; that I had look'd with eager Eyes upon him; shou'd you not think 'twere possible I might go one Step further, and enquire his Name?
Aman. But should I tell you he was incredibly charming; that I had admired him; that I had looked at him with eager eyes; wouldn't you think it possible that I might take one step further and ask his name?
Lov. [Aside.] She has Reason on her side, I have talk'd too much; but I must turn it off another way. [To Aman.] Will you then make no difference, Amanda, between the Language of our Sex and yours? There is a Modesty restrains your Tongues, which makes you speak by halves when you commend; but roving Flattery gives a loose to ours, which makes us still speak double what we think: You shou'd not therefore, in so strict a Sense, take what I said to her Advantage.
Lov. [Aside.] She has reason on her side, I've talked too much; but I need to change the approach. [To Aman.] So, Amanda, will you really not see a difference between how our genders speak? There’s a modesty that keeps your words in check, making you praise in a reserved way; meanwhile, our flattering words run wild, often meaning more than we say. So, you shouldn’t take my comments to her too literally.
Aman. Those Flights of Flattery, Sir, are to our Faces only: When Women once are out of hearing, you are as modest in your Commendations as we are. But I shan't put you to the trouble of farther Excuses; if you please, this Business shall rest here. Only give me leave to wish, both for your Peace and mine, that you may never meet this Miracle of Beauty more.
Aman. Those flattering compliments, Sir, are only for our benefit: When women are out of earshot, you're just as modest in your praises as we are. But I won't make you go through more excuses; if you agree, let's leave this matter here. Just let me wish, for both your sake and mine, that you never encounter this miracle of beauty again.
Lov. I am content.
Lov. I'm happy.
Enter Servant.
Enter Server.
Serv. Madam, there's a young Lady at the door in a Chair, desires to know whether your Ladyship sees Company. I think her Name is Berinthia.
Serv. Ma'am, there’s a young lady at the door in a chair, asking if you’re seeing visitors. I believe her name is Berinthia.
Aman. O dear! 'tis a Relation I have not seen this five Years. Pray her to walk in.
Aman. Oh no! It's someone I haven't seen in five years. Please ask her to come in.
[Exit Servant.
[Exit Server.
To Lov.] Here's another Beauty for you. She was young when I saw her last; but I hear she's grown extremely handsome.
To Lov.] Here’s another beautiful one for you. She was young when I last saw her, but I hear she’s become really stunning.
Lov. Don't you be jealous now, for I shall gaze upon her too.
Lov. Don't be jealous now, because I will be looking at her too.
Enter Berinthia.
Enter Berinthia.
Lov. [Aside.] Ha! By Heavens, the very Woman!
Lov. [Aside.] Ha! By God, it's her!
Ber. [Saluting Aman.] Dear Amanda, I did not expect to meet with you in Town.
Ber. [Saluting Aman.] Dear Amanda, I didn't expect to run into you in town.
Aman. Sweet Cousin, I'm overjoy'd to see you. [To Lov.] Mr. Loveless, here's a Relation and a Friend of mine, I desire you'll be better acquainted with.
Aman. Sweet Cousin, I'm so happy to see you. [To Lov.] Mr. Loveless, this is a relative and a friend of mine. I hope you'll get to know each other better.
Lov. [Saluting Ber.] If my Wife never desires a harder thing, Madam, her Request will be easily granted.
Lov. [Saluting Ber.] If my wife never wants anything tougher, ma'am, her request will be easily fulfilled.
Ber. [To Aman.] I think, Madam, I ought to wish you Joy.
Ber. [To Aman.] I believe, ma'am, I should congratulate you.
Aman. Joy! Upon what?
Aman. Awesome! On what?
Ber. Upon your Marriage: You were a Widow when I saw you last.
Ber. When you got married: You were a widow the last time I saw you.
Lov. You ought rather, Madam, to wish me Joy upon that, since I am the only Gainer.
Lov. You should actually be congratulating me on that, since I'm the only one who's benefiting.
Ber. If she has got so good a Husband as the World reports, she has gain'd enough to expect the Compliment of her Friends upon it.
Ber. If she has such a great husband as everyone says, she has enough to look forward to receiving compliments from her friends about it.
Lov. If the World is so favourable to me, to allow I deserve that Title, I hope 'tis so just to my Wife, to own I derive it from her.
Lov. If the world is so kind to me as to say I deserve that title, I hope it’s fair to my wife to acknowledge that I get it from her.
Ber. Sir, it is so just to you both, to own you are, and deserve to be, the happiest Pair that live in it.
Ber. Sir, it's only fair to say that you both are, and deserve to be, the happiest couple alive.
Lov. I'm afraid we shall lose that Character, Madam, whenever you happen to change your Condition.
Lov. I'm worried we'll lose that reputation, Madam, whenever you decide to change your situation.
Enter Servant.
Enter Helper.
Ser. Sir, my Lord Foppington presents his humble Service to you, and desires to know how you do. He but just now heard you were in Town. He's at the next Door; and if it be not inconvenient, he'll come and wait upon you.
Ser. Sir, my Lord Foppington sends his regards and wants to know how you are. He just heard you were in town. He's next door, and if it’s not too much trouble, he’d like to come and pay you a visit.
Lov. Lord Foppington!—I know him not.
Love. Lord Foppington!—I don’t know him.
Ber. Not his Dignity, perhaps, but you do his Person. 'Tis Sir Novelty; he has bought a Barony, in order to marry a great Fortune: His Patent has not been pass'd above eight-and-forty-Hours, and he has already sent How do-ye's to all the Town, to make 'em acquainted with his Title.
Ber. Maybe not his status, but you do represent him. It's Sir Novelty; he bought a barony to marry into a big fortune. His title has only been official for about forty-eight hours, and he's already sending greetings to everyone in town to let them know about his title.
Lov. Give my Service to his Lordship, and let him know, I am proud of the Honour he intends me.
Lov. Please send my regards to his Lordship and let him know I'm honored by the recognition he intends for me.
[Ex..
[Ex..
Ser. Sure this Addition of Quality must have so improv'd this Coxcomb, he can't but be very good Company for a quarter of an Hour.
Ser. This addition of quality must have really improved this fool; he should be great company for about fifteen minutes.
Aman. Now it moves my Pity more than my Mirth, to see a Man whom Nature has made no Fool, be so very industrious to pass for an Ass.
Aman. It makes me feel more pity than amusement to see a man whom nature hasn't made a fool work so hard to be seen as one.
Lov. No, there you are wrong, Amanda; you shou'd never bestow your Pity upon those who take pains for your Contempt; Pity those whom Nature abuses, but never those who abuse Nature.
Lov. No, you're mistaken, Amanda; you should never waste your sympathy on those who make an effort to earn your disdain. Feel sorry for those whom Nature has wronged, but never for those who wrong Nature.
Ber. Besides, the Town wou'd be robb'd of one of its chiefest Diversions, if it shou'd become a Crime to laugh at a Fool.
Ber. Besides, the town would lose one of its main entertainments if it became a crime to laugh at a fool.
Aman. I could never yet perceive the Town inclin'd to part with any of its Diversions, for the sake of their being Crimes; but I have seen it very fond of some, I think, had little else to recommend 'em.
Aman. I still can’t understand why the Town would want to give up any of its fun just because they’re considered crimes; but I have noticed it really enjoys some that, honestly, don’t seem to have much else to offer.
Ber. I doubt, Amanda, you are grown its Enemy, you speak with so much warmth against it.
Ber. I doubt, Amanda, you've become its enemy; you speak so passionately against it.
Aman. I must confess I am not much its Friend.
Aman. I have to admit I’m not really its fan.
Ber. Then give me leave to make you mine, by not engaging in its Quarrel.
Ber. Then let me make you mine by not getting involved in this argument.
Aman. You have many stronger Claims than that, Berinthia, whenever you think fit to plead your Title.
Aman. You have a lot of stronger reasons than that, Berinthia, whenever you choose to present your case.
Lov. You have done well to engage a Second, my Dear; for here comes one will be apt to call you to an Account for your Country Principles.
Lov. You did well to get a Second, my dear; because here comes someone who will definitely hold you accountable for your views on your country.
Enter Lord Foppington.
Enter Lord Foppington.
Lord Fop. [To Lov.] Sir, I am your most humble Servant.
Lord Fop. [To Lov.] Sir, I'm your most humble servant.
Lav. I wish you Joy, my Lord.
Lav. I wish you happiness, my Lord.
Lord Fop. O Laird, Sir——Madam, your Ladyship's welcome to Tawn.
Lord Fop. Oh Laird, Sir——Madam, it's a pleasure to have your Ladyship here at Tawn.
Aman. I wish your Lordship Joy.
Aman. I wish you joy, my Lord.
Lord Fop. O Heavens, Madam——
Lord Fop. Oh my gosh, Madam——
Lov. My Lord, this young Lady is a Relation of my Wife's.
Lov. My Lord, this young lady is a relative of my wife's.
Lord Fop. [Saluting her.] The beautifullest Race of People upon Earth, Rat me. Dear Loveless, I am overjoy'd to see you have brought your Family to Tawn again:[Pg 31] I am, stap my Vitals—[Aside.] For I design to lie with your Wife. [To Aman.] Far Gad's sake, Madam, haw has your Ladyship been able to subsist thus long, under the Fatigue of a Country Life?
Lord Fop. [Saluting her.] The most beautiful people on Earth, I swear. Dear Loveless, I'm so happy to see you've brought your family to town again:[Pg 31] I really mean it—[Aside.] Because I plan to sleep with your wife. [To Aman.] Goodness, Madam, how have you been able to last this long under the strain of country life?
Aman. My life has been very far from that, my Lord, it has been a very quiet one.
Aman. My life has been nothing like that, my Lord; it's been very peaceful.
Lord Fop. Why that's the Fatigue I speak of, Madam: For 'tis impossible to be quiet, without thinking: Now thinking is to me the greatest Fatigue in the World.
Lord Fop. Well, that’s the exhaustion I’m talking about, Ma'am: It’s impossible to be at peace without thinking; and thinking is, for me, the most exhausting thing in the world.
Aman. Does not your Lordship love reading then?
Aman. Don't you love reading, my Lord?
Lord Fop. Oh, passionately, Madam——But I never think of what I read.
Lord Fop. Oh, passionately, ma'am—but I never really think about what I read.
Ber. Why, can your Lordship read without thinking?
Ber. Wait, can you really read without thinking?
Lord Fop. O Lard——Can your Ladyship pray without Devotion——Madam?
Lord Fop. Oh Lord——Can you pray without any feeling, my Lady?
Aman. Well, I must own I think Books the best Entertainment in the World.
Aman. Well, I have to admit I think books are the best entertainment in the world.
Lord Fop. I am so much of your Ladyship's Mind, Madam, that I have a private Gallery, where I walk sometimes, is furnished with nothing but Books and Looking-glasses. Madam, I have gilded them, and rang'd 'em, so prettily, before Gad, it is the most entertaining thing in the World to walk and look upon 'em.
Lord Fop. I'm so in sync with your Ladyship, Madam, that I have a private Gallery where I stroll sometimes, and it's filled with nothing but books and mirrors. I've gilded them and arranged them so nicely that, honestly, it's the most entertaining thing in the world to walk around and look at them.
Aman. Nay, I love a neat Library too; but 'tis, I think, the inside of a Book shou'd recommend it most to us.
Aman. No, I appreciate a tidy library as well; but I believe the content of a book should be what appeals to us the most.
Lord Fop. That, I must confess, I am not altogether so fand of. Far to my mind the Inside of a Book, is to entertain one's self with the forc'd Product of another Man's Brain. Naw I think a Man of Quality and Breeding may be much diverted with the natural Sprauts of his own. But to say the truth, Madam, let a Man love reading never so well, when once he comes to know this Tawn, he finds so many better ways of passing away the Four-and-twenty Hours, that 'twere ten thousand Pities he shou'd consume his time in that. Far example, Madam, my Life; my Life, Madam, is a perpetual Stream of Pleasure, that glides thro' such a Variety of Entertainments, I believe the wisest of our Ancestors never had the least Conception of any of 'em.
Lord Fop. I must admit, I’m not really a fan of that. To me, the inside of a book is just a forced product of someone else’s brain meant to entertain oneself. No, I think a man of quality and good breeding can find plenty of amusement in his own natural talents. But honestly, Madam, no matter how much a man loves reading, once he discovers this town, he finds so many better ways to spend his twenty-four hours that it would be a shame for him to waste his time on that. For example, Madam, my life; my life, Madam, is a continuous stream of pleasure that flows through such a variety of entertainments that I believe the wisest of our ancestors never even imagined any of them.
I rise, Madam, about ten o'clock. I don't rise sooner, because 'tis the worst thing in the World for the Complection; nat that I pretend to be a Beau; but a Man must endeavour to look wholesome, lest he make to nauseous a Figure in the Side-bax, the Ladies shou'd be compell'd to turn their eyes upon the Play. So at Ten o'clock, I say, I rise. Naw, if I find it a good Day, I resalve to take a Turn in the Park, and see the fine Women; so huddle on my Clothes, and get dress'd by One. If it be nasty Weather, I take a Turn in the Chocolate-house; where, as you walk, Madam, you have the prettiest Prospect in the World; you have Looking-glasses all round you——But I'm afraid I tire the Company.
I get up, Madam, around ten o'clock. I don’t wake up earlier because it’s really bad for the complexion; not that I think of myself as a dandy, but a man should try to look healthy, or else he might end up looking too unpleasant for the ladies to focus on the play. So, like I said, I get up at ten. Now, if it’s a nice day, I plan to take a stroll in the park and check out the beautiful women, so I throw on my clothes and get ready by one. If the weather is bad, I take a walk in the chocolate house, where, as you stroll, Madam, you have the prettiest view in the world; there are mirrors all around you—But I’m afraid I’m boring the company.
Ber. Not at all. Pray go on.
Not at all. Please go ahead.
Lord Fop. Why then, Ladies, from thence I go to Dinner at Lacket's, and there you are so nicely and delicately serv'd, that, stap my Vitals, they can compose you a Dish, no bigger than a Saucer, shall come to fifty Shillings; between eating my Dinner, and washing my Mouth, Ladies, I spend my time, till I go to the Play; where, till Nine o'clock, I entertain myself with looking upon the Company; and usually dispose of one Hour more in leading them aut. So there's Twelve of the Four-and-Twenty pretty well over. The other Twelve, Madam, are disposed of in two Articles: In the first Four I toast myself drunk, and in t'other Eight I sleep myself sober again. Thus, Ladies, you see my Life is an eternal raund O of Delights.
Lord Fop. Well then, ladies, after this I’m off to dinner at Lacket's, where you’re served in such an elegant and refined manner that, honestly, they can whip up a dish no bigger than a saucer that costs fifty shillings. Between having my dinner and rinsing my mouth, ladies, I spend my time until I head to the play. There, until nine o'clock, I entertain myself by watching the crowd, and I usually spend another hour leading them out. So that's twelve out of the twenty-four pretty much taken care of. The other twelve, madam, are split into two categories: in the first four, I drink to the point of inebriation, and in the other eight, I sleep it off. So, ladies, you can see my life is a continuous cycle of delights.
Lov. 'Tis a heavenly one, indeed!
Love. It's a heavenly one, indeed!
Aman. But, my Lord, you Beaux spend a great deal of your Time in Intrigues: You have given us no Account of them yet.
Aman. But, my Lord, you Beaux spend a lot of your time on intrigues: You haven't told us about them yet.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] Soh, she wou'd enquire into my Amours——That's Jealousy——She begins to be in love with me. [To Aman.] Why, Madam——as to time for my Intrigues, I usually make Detachments of it from my other Pleasures, according to the Exigency. Far your Ladyship may please to take notice, that those who intrigue with Women of Quality, have rarely occa[Pg 33]sion for above half an Hour at a time: People of that Rank being under those Decorums, they can seldom give you a larger View, than will justly serve to shoot 'em flying. So that the Course of my other Pleasures is not very much interrupted by my Amours.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] So, she wants to know about my love affairs—That's jealousy—She’s starting to fall for me. [To Aman.] Well, Madam—when it comes to my flings, I usually carve out time from my other pleasures, depending on the situation. You should note, my lady, that those who have affairs with high-status women rarely need more than half an hour at a time. People of that status have their decorum, so they can hardly give you a glimpse that lasts longer than what’s necessary to catch them on the fly. Therefore, my other pleasures aren't really disrupted by my love affairs.
Lov. But your Lordship now is become a Pillar of the State; you must attend the weighty Affairs of the Nation.
Lov. But now, my Lord, you’ve become a pillar of the State; you need to take care of the important matters of the nation.
Lord Fop. Sir——as to weighty Affairs——I leave them to weighty Heads. I never intend mine shall be a Burden to my Body.
Lord Fop. Sir—when it comes to serious matters—I leave those to serious people. I never plan for my mind to be a burden to my body.
Lov. O, but you'll find the House will expect your Attendance.
Lov. Oh, but you’ll find that the House will expect you to attend.
Lord Fop. Sir, you'll find the House will compound for my Appearance.
Lord Fop. Sir, you’ll see that the House will settle for my presence.
Lov. But your Friends will take it ill if you don't attend their particular Causes.
Lov. But your friends will be upset if you don't show up for their specific issues.
Lord Fop. Not, Sir, if I come time enough to give 'em my particular Vote.
Lord Fop. Not at all, sir, as long as I get there in time to cast my vote.
Ber. But pray, my Lord, how do you dispose of yourself on Sundays? for that, methinks, shou'd hang wretchedly on your hands.
Ber. But please, my Lord, what do you do on Sundays? Because that seems like it would be really boring for you.
Lord Fop. Why, faith, Madam——Sunday——is a vile day, I must confess; I intend to move for leave to bring in a Bill, That Players may work upon it, as well as the Hackney Coaches. Tho' this I must say for the Government, it leaves us the Churches to entertain us——But then again, they begin so abominable early, a Man must rise by Candle-light to get dress'd by the Psalm.
Lord Fop. Well, honestly, Madam——Sunday——is a terrible day, I have to admit; I plan to propose a bill that allows performers to work on it, just like the taxi cabs. Although I have to give some credit to the Government, at least it lets us have the Churches to keep us entertained——But then again, they start so ridiculously early that a guy has to get up by candlelight to be ready for the psalm.
Ber. Pray which Church does your Lordship most oblige with your Presence?
Ber. Which church do you usually attend, my Lord?
Lord Fop. Oh, St. James's, Madam——There's much the best Company.
Lord Fop. Oh, St. James's, Madam——There's way better company.
Aman. Is there good Preaching too?
Aman. Is there good preaching too?
Lord Fop. Why, faith, Madam——I can't tell. A Man must have very little to do there, that can give an Account of the Sermon.
Lord Fop. Well, honestly, Madam——I can't say. A man must have very little going on if he can summarize the sermon.
Ber. You can give us an Account of the Ladies, at least.
Ber. You can tell us about the ladies, at least.
Lord Fop. Or I deserve to be excommunicated—There is my Lady Tattle, my Lady Prate, my Lady Titter, my Lady Lear, my Lady Giggle, and my Lady Grin. These fit in the Front of the Boxes, and all Church-time are the prettiest Company in the World, stap my Vitals. [To Aman.] Mayn't we hope for the Honour to see your Ladyship added to our Society, Madam?
Lord Fop. Or I deserve to be kicked out of the Church—There’s my Lady Tattle, my Lady Prate, my Lady Titter, my Lady Lear, my Lady Giggle, and my Lady Grin. They belong in the front of the boxes, and during church time, they are the prettiest company in the world, I swear on my life. [To Aman.] Can we hope to have the honor of seeing you, Madam, join our group?
Aman. Alas, my Lord, I am the worst Company in the World at Church: I'm apt to mind the Prayers, or the Sermon, or——
Aman. Unfortunately, my Lord, I am the worst company in the world at church: I tend to focus on the prayers, or the sermon, or——
Lord Fop. One is indeed strangely apt at Church to mind what one should not do. But I hope, Madam, at one time or other, I shall have the Honour to lead your Ladyship to your Coach there. [Aside.] Methinks she seems strangely pleas'd with every thing I say to her—'Tis a vast pleasure to receive Encouragement from a Woman before her Husband's Face——I have a good mind to pursue my Conquest, and speak the thing plainly to her at once—I'gad, I'll do't, and that in so Cavalier a manner, she shall be surpriz'd at it—Ladies, I'll take my Leave: I'am afraid I begin to grow troublesome with the length of my Visit.
Lord Fop. It's funny how one can be reminded at church of all the things one shouldn’t do. But I hope, Madam, that at some point, I'll have the honor of escorting you to your coach. [Aside.] It seems to me she's surprisingly pleased with everything I say—It’s quite a thrill to get encouragement from a woman in front of her husband—I've got a strong urge to go for it and just say what I mean directly to her—Honestly, I will, and I’ll do it so boldly that she’ll be taken aback—Ladies, I’ll take my leave: I’m worried I'm starting to overstay my welcome.
Aman. Your Lordship is too entertaining to grow troublesome any where.
Aman. Your Lordship is too entertaining to become a nuisance anywhere.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That now was as much as if she had said——Pray lie with me. I'll let her see I'm quick of Apprehension. [To Aman.] O Lard, Madam, I had like to have forgot a Secret, I must needs tell your Ladyship. [To Lov.] Ned, you must not be so jealous now as to listen.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That was basically her saying—Please sleep with me. I’ll show her I’m perceptive. [To Aman.] Oh dear, Madam, I almost forgot a secret I really need to share with you. [To Lov.] Ned, you can’t be so jealous now that you’re eavesdropping.
Lov. Not I, my Lord; I'm too fashionable a Husband to pry into the Secrets of my Wife.
Lov. Not me, my Lord; I'm too modern a husband to snoop into my wife's secrets.
Lord Fop. [To Aman. squeezing her Hand.] I am in love with you to Desperation, strike me speechless.
Lord Fop. [To Aman, squeezing her hand.] I’m completely in love with you; it drives me to desperation and leaves me speechless.
Aman. [Giving him a Box o' th' Ear.] Then thus I return your Passion——An impudent Fool!
Aman. [Slapping him on the ear.] So here's how I respond to your feelings—what a bold idiot!
Lord Fop. Gad's Curse, Madam, I'm a Peer of the Realm.
Lord Fop. Goodness, Madam, I'm a noble!
Lov. Hey; what the Devil, do you affront my Wife, Sir? Nay then—
Lov. Hey, what the heck, are you disrespecting my wife, sir? Well then—
[They draw and fight. The Women run shrieking for Help.
[They draw their weapons and fight. The women run screaming for help.]
Aman. Ah! What has my Folly done? Help! Murder, help! Part 'em, for Heaven's sake.
Aman. Oh no! What have I done in my foolishness? Help! Someone’s being killed, help! Please separate them, for the love of God.
Lord Fop. [Falling back, and leaning upon his Sword.] Ah——quite thro' the Body——Stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. [Falling back, and leaning on his sword.] Ah—right through the body—Wow, that hurts.
Enter Servants.
Enter Staff.
Lov. [Running to him.] I hope I han't kill'd the Fool, however——Bear him up! Where's your Wound?
Lov. [Running to him.] I hope I haven't killed the Fool, anyway——Hold him up! Where's your wound?
Lord Fop. Just thro' the Guts.
Lord Fop. Just through the guts.
Lov. Call a Surgeon there: Unbutton him quickly.
Lov. Get a surgeon over here: Unbutton him fast.
Lord Fop. Ay, pray make haste.
Lord Fop. Yes, please hurry.
Lov. This Mischief you may thank yourself for.
Lov. You can thank yourself for this trouble.
Lord Fop. I may so—Love's the Devil indeed, Ned.
Lord Fop. I guess that's true—Love really is the Devil, Ned.
Enter Syringe and Servant.
Enter Syringe and Assistant.
Serv. Here's Mr. Syringe, Sir, was just going by the Door.
Serv. Here's Mr. Syringe, Sir, was just passing by the door.
Lord Fop. He's the welcomest Man alive.
Lord Fop. He's the most pleasant guy around.
Syr. Stand by, stand by, stand by. Pray, Gentlemen, stand by. Lord have mercy upon us! Did you never see a Man run thro' the Body before? Pray stand by.
Syr. Stand back, stand back, stand back. Please, gentlemen, stand back. Lord have mercy on us! Have you never seen a man run through the body before? Please stand back.
Lord Fop. Ah, Mr. Syringe.——I'm a dead Man.
Lord Fop. Ah, Mr. Syringe.——I'm done for.
Syr. A dead Man, and I by——I shou'd laugh to see that, I'gad.
Syr. A dead man, and I—I'd laugh to see that, for sure.
Lov. Pr'ythee don't stand prating, but look upon his Wound.
Lov. Please don’t just talk, but look at his wound.
Syr. Why, what if I won't look upon his Wound this Hour, Sir?
Syr. What if I don't want to look at his wound right now, Sir?
Lov. Why then he'll bleed to Death, Sir.
Lov. Then he'll bleed to death, sir.
Syr. Why, then I'll fetch him to life again, Sir.
Syr. Then I'll bring him back to life, Sir.
Lov. 'Slife, he's run thro' the Guts, I tell thee.
Lov. 'Wow, he's run right through the guts, I'm telling you.
Syr. Wou'd he were run thro' the Heart, I shou'd get the more Credit by his Cure. Now I hope you are satisfy'd?——Come, now let me come at him; now let me come at him. [Viewing his Wound.] Oons, what a Gash is here!—Why, Sir, a Man may drive a Coach and Six Horses into your Body.
Syr. I wish he were stabbed in the heart; I'd get more credit for curing him. Now, I hope you're satisfied?—Come on, let me take a look at him; let me get to him. [Looking at his wound.] Wow, what a gash is here!—Honestly, Sir, a person could fit a coach and six horses into your body.
Lord Fop. Ho——
Lord Fop. Hey——
Syr. Why, what the Devil, have you run the Gentleman thro' with a Scythe?——[Aside.] A little Prick between the Skin and the Ribs, that's all.
Syr. What on earth, have you stabbed the guy with a scythe?——[Aside.] Just a little poke between the skin and the ribs, that's all.
Lov. Let me see his Wound.
Lov. Let me see his injury.
Syr. Then you shall dress it, Sir; for if any body looks upon it, I won't.
Syr. Then you should handle it, Sir; because if anyone sees it, I won't.
Lov. Why, thou art the veriest Coxcomb I ever saw.
Lov. You're the biggest fool I’ve ever seen.
Syr. Sir, I am not Matter of my Trade for nothing.
Syr. Sir, I’m not just doing this job for no reason.
Lord Fop. Surgeon!
Lord Fop. Doctor!
Syr. Well, Sir.
Sure, Sir.
Lord Fop. Is there any Hopes?
Lord Fop. Is there any hope?
Syr. Hopes!—--I can't tell——What are you willing to give for your Cure?
Syr. Hope!—I don't know—How much are you willing to pay for your cure?
Lord Fop. Five hundred Paunds with Pleasure.
Lord Fop. Five hundred pounds with pleasure.
Syr. Why then perhaps there may be Hopes. But we must avoid further Delay. Here, help the Gentleman into a Chair, and carry him to my House presently, that's the properest place [Aside.] to bubble him out of his Money. Come, a Chair, a Chair quickly—There, in with him.
Syr. So maybe there’s still hope. But we need to avoid any more delay. Here, help the gentleman into a chair and take him to my house right away; that’s the best place [Aside.] to get his money. Come on, get a chair, a chair quickly—There, get him in!
[They put him into a Chair.
[They placed him in a chair.]
Lord Fop. Dear Loveless——Adieu. If I die——I forgive thee; and if I live——I hope thou wilt do as much by me. I am very sorry you and I shou'd quarrel; but I hope here's an end on't, for if you are satisfy'd——I am.
Lord Fop. Dear Loveless——Goodbye. If I die——I've forgiven you; and if I live——I hope you'll do the same for me. I'm really sorry that you and I had a fight, but I hope this is where it ends, because if you're satisfied——I am.
Lov. I shall hardly think it worth my prosecuting any farther, so you may be at rest, Sir.
Lov. I really don't think it's worth my time to pursue this any further, so you can relax, Sir.
Lord Fop. Thou art a generous Fellow, strike me dumb. [Aside.] But thou hast an impertinent Wife, stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. You are a generous guy, I’m speechless. [Aside.] But you have a rude wife, I swear.
Syr. So, carry him off, carry him off, we shall have him prate himself into a Fever by and by; carry him off.
Syr. So, take him away, take him away, he’ll end up talking himself into a fever soon; take him away.
[Ex. Serv. with L. Fop.
[Ex. Serv. with L. Fop.
Aman. Now on my Knees, my Dear, let me ask your pardon for my Indiscretion, my own I never shall obtain.
Aman. Now, on my knees, my dear, please let me ask for your forgiveness for my mistake; I know I'll never get my own back.
Lov. Oh, there's no harm done: You serv'd him well.
Lov. Oh, it’s all good: You treated him well.
Aman. He did indeed deserve it. But I tremble to think how dear my indiscreet Resentment might have cost you.
Aman. He really did deserve it. But I shudder to think about how much my careless anger might have cost you.
Lov. O, no matter; never trouble yourself about that.
Lov. Oh, it’s no big deal; don’t worry about it.
Ber. For Heaven's sake, what was't he did to you?
Ber. For heaven's sake, what did he do to you?
Aman. O nothing; he only squeez'd me kindly by the Hand, and frankly offer'd me a Coxcomb's Heart.[Pg 37] I know I was to blame to resent it as I did, since nothing but a Quarrel could ensue. But the Fool so surpriz'd me with his Insolence, I was not Mistress of my Fingers.
Aman. Oh, it’s nothing; he just squeezed my hand gently and honestly offered me a fool's heart.[Pg 37] I know I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, since it only led to a fight. But the idiot surprised me with his rudeness, and I lost control of my fingers.
Ber. Now I dare swear, he thinks you had 'em at great Command, they obey'd you so readily.
Ber. Now I swear, he really thinks you had them under your command since they followed you so easily.
Enter Worthy.
Enter Worthy.
Wor. Save you, save you, good People; I'm glad to find you all alive; I met a wounded Peer carrying off. For Heav'ns sake, what was the matter?
Wor. Hey, hey, everyone; I'm so relieved to see you all safe. I just saw a wounded noble being taken away. For heaven's sake, what happened?
Lov. O, a Trifle: He would have lain with my Wife before my Face, so she oblig'd him with a Box o'the Ear, and I run him thro' the Body: That was all.
Lov. Oh, a small thing: He would have slept with my wife right in front of me, so she slapped him, and I stabbed him in the body: That was it.
Wor. Bagatelle on all sides. But, pray, Madam, how long has this noble Lord been an humble Servant of yours?
Wor. Bagatelle all around. But, please, Madam, how long has this noble Lord been your humble servant?
Aman. This is the first I have heard on't. So I suppose 'tis his Quality, more than his Love, has brought him into this Adventure. He thinks his Title an authentick Passport to every Woman's Heart, below the Degree of a Peeress.
Aman. This is the first I’ve heard of it. So I guess it’s his status, more than his love, that’s led him into this situation. He believes his title is a real ticket to every woman’s heart, as long as she’s not a peeress.
Wor. He's Coxcomb enough to think any thing. But I wou'd not have you brought into Trouble for him: I hope there's no Danger of his Life?
Wor. He's foolish enough to believe anything. But I don't want you to get into trouble because of him: I hope there's no risk to his life?
Lov. None at all: He's fallen into the Hands of a roguish Surgeon, who I perceive designs to frighten a little Money out of him. But I saw his Wound, 'tis nothing; he may go to the Play to-night, if he pleases.
Lov. Not at all: He's ended up in the hands of a shady surgeon, who I can tell plans to scare a bit of money out of him. But I saw his wound; it’s nothing serious. He can go to the show tonight if he wants.
Wor. I'm glad you have corrected him without farther Mischief. And now, Sir, if these Ladies have no farther Service for you, you'll oblige me if you can go to the Place I spoke to you of t'other Day.
Wor. I'm glad you were able to correct him without causing any more trouble. And now, Sir, if these ladies don’t need anything else from you, I’d appreciate it if you could head to the place I mentioned the other day.
Lov. With all my Heart. [Aside.] Tho' I cou'd wish, methinks, to stay and gaze a little longer on that Creature. Good God! How beautiful she is!—But what have I to do with Beauty? I have already had my Portion, and must not covet more. Come, Sir, when you please.
Lov. With all my heart. [Aside.] Although I could wish, I think, to stay and look at that creature a little longer. Good God! How beautiful she is! —But what do I have to do with beauty? I've already had my share, and must not desire more. Come on, sir, whenever you’re ready.
[To Wor.
To Wor.
Wor. Ladies, your Servant.[Pg 38] Aman. Mr. Loveless, pray one Word with you before you go.
Wor. Ladies, I'm at your service.[Pg 38] Aman. Mr. Loveless, may I have a word with you before you leave?
Lov. to Wor.] I'll overtake you, Sir: What wou'd my Dear?
Lov. to Wor.] I'll catch up with you, Sir: What would you like, my dear?
Aman. Only a Woman's foolish Question, How do you like my Cousin here?
Aman. Just a woman's silly question, "What do you think of my cousin here?"
Lov. Jealous already, Amanda?
Lov. Jealous already, Amanda?
Aman. Not at all; I ask you for another Reason.
Aman. Not at all; I’m asking you for another reason.
Lov. Aside.] Whate'er her Reason be, I must not tell her true. [To Aman.] Why, I confess she's handsome. But you must not think I slight your Kinswoman, if I own to you, of all the Women who may claim that Character, she is the last wou'd triumph in my Heart.
Lov. Aside.] No matter what her reasoning is, I can't reveal the truth to her. [To Aman.] Honestly, I admit she's attractive. But don't think I have any disregard for your relative if I tell you that out of all the women who could be considered beautiful, she's the one who would have the least chance of winning my heart.
Aman. I'm satisfy'd.
Aman. I'm satisfied.
Lov. Now tell me why you ask'd?
Lov. So, why did you ask?
Aman. At Night I will. Adieu.
Aman. I'll see you at night. Goodbye.
Lov. I'm yours. [Kissing her.]
Love. I'm yours. [Kissing her.]
[Exit Lov.
Exit Love.
Aman. [Aside.] I'm glad to find he does not like her; for I have a great mind to persuade her to come and live with me. [To Ber.] Now, dear Berinthia, let me enquire a little into your Affairs: for I do assure you, I am enough your Friend, to interest myself in every thing that concerns you.
Aman. [Aside.] I'm happy to see that he doesn't like her; because I really want to convince her to come live with me. [To Ber.] Now, dear Berinthia, let me ask you about your situation; I promise you, I care enough about you to take an interest in everything that affects you.
Ber. You formerly have given me such Proofs on't, I shou'd be very much to blame to doubt it; I am sorry I have no Secrets to trust you with, that I might convince you how entire a Confidence I durst repose in you.
Ber. You’ve already shown me proof of that, so I’d be quite foolish to doubt it; I wish I had secrets to share with you to show you how much trust I could place in you.
Aman. Why is it possible, that one so young and beautiful as you, shou'd live and have no Secrets?
Aman. Why is it that someone as young and beautiful as you could live and have no secrets?
Ber. What Secrets do you mean?
What secrets are you referring to?
Aman. Lovers.
Aman. Couples.
Ber. O Twenty; but not one secret one amongst 'em. Lovers in this Age have too much Honour to do any thing under-hand; they do all above-board.
Ber. Oh Twenty; but not a single secret one among them. Lovers today have too much honor to do anything shady; they do everything openly.
Aman. That now, methinks, wou'd make me hate a Man.
Aman. That now, I think, would make me hate a Man.
Ber. But the Women of the Town are of another mind: For by this means a Lady may, with the Expence of a few Coquet Glances, lead twenty Fools about in a String, for two or three Years together. Whereas, if she[Pg 39] shou'd allow 'em greater Favours, and oblige 'em to Secrecy, she wou'd not keep one of 'em a Fortnight.
Ber. But the women in town think differently: with just a few flirty glances, a woman can have a bunch of fools wrapped around her finger for two or three years. On the other hand, if she were to give them more attention and asked them to keep it a secret, she wouldn't be able to keep any of them for more than a couple of weeks.
Aman. There's something indeed in That to satisfy the Vanity of a Woman, but I can't comprehend how the Men find their Account in it.
Aman. There's definitely something in that to satisfy a woman's vanity, but I can't understand how men benefit from it.
Ber. Their Entertainment, I must confess, is a Riddle to me. For there's very few of them ever get farther than a Bow and an Ogle. I have half a Score for my share, who follow me all over the Town; and at the Play, the Park, and the Church, do, with their Eyes, say the violent'st things to me——But I never hear any more of 'em.
Ber. Their entertainment, I have to admit, is a mystery to me. Very few of them ever get past a flirtatious glance or a look. I've got a dozen who trail me all over town; at the theater, the park, and church, they say the most intense things to me with their eyes—but I never hear anything more from them.
Aman. What can be the Reason of that?
Aman. What could be the reason for that?
Ber. One Reason is, They don't know how to go farther. They have had so little Practice, they don't understand the Trade. But besides their Ignorance, you must know there is not one of my half-score Lovers but what follows half a score Mistresses. Now their Affections being divided amongst so many, are not strong enough for any one, to make 'em pursue her to the Purpose. Like a young Puppy in a Warren, they have a Flirt at all, and catch none.
Ber. One reason is that they don’t know how to go further. They've had so little practice, they don’t understand the game. But besides their ignorance, you should know that not one of my few lovers doesn’t follow several mistresses. With their affections split among so many, they aren’t strong enough for any one of them to make them pursue her seriously. Like a young puppy in a field, they play around but catch nothing.
Aman. Yet they seem to have a Torrent of Love to dispose of.
Aman. Yet they appear to have an overwhelming amount of love to give.
Ber. They have so: But 'tis like the River of a Modern Philosopher, whose Works, tho' a Woman, I have read: it sets out with a violent Stream, splits in a thousand Branches, and is all lost in the Sands.
Ber. They have! But it's like the River of a Modern Philosopher, whose works, although written by a woman, I've read: it starts with a strong flow, branches out in a thousand directions, and eventually gets lost in the sands.
Aman. But do you think this River of Love runs all its Course without doing any Mischief? Do you think it overflows nothing?
Aman. But do you really think this River of Love flows freely without causing any trouble? Do you think it doesn't overflow at all?
Ber. O yes; 'tis true, it never breaks into any body's Ground that has the least Fence about it; but it overflows all the Commons that lie in its way. And this is the utmost Achievement of those dreadful Champions in the Field of Love—the Beaux.
Ber. Oh yes; it's true, it never intrudes on anyone's land that has even a small fence, but it floods all the commons in its path. And this is the greatest accomplishment of those terrible champions in the arena of love—the guys.
Aman. But pr'ythee, Berinthia, instruct me a little farther; for I am so great a Novice, I'm almost asham'd on't. My Husband's leaving me whilst I was young and[Pg 40] fond, threw me into that Depth of Discontent, that ever since I have led so private and recluse a Life, my Ignorance is scarce conceivable. I therefore fain would be instructed: Not, Heaven knows, that what you call Intrigues have any Charms for me: my Love and Principles are too well fix'd. The practick Part of all unlawful Love is——
Aman. But please, Berinthia, teach me a little more; I’m such a novice that I’m almost embarrassed about it. My husband left me when I was young and[Pg 40] in love, which plunged me into a deep state of discontent. Since then, I’ve lived such a private and isolated life that my ignorance is hardly imaginable. So I really want to learn: not that, God knows, what you call intrigues have any appeal for me; my love and principles are too well established. The practical side of all forbidden love is——
Ber. O 'tis abominable: But for the Speculative—that we must all confess is entertaining. The Conversation of all the virtuous Women in the Town turns upon that and new Clothes.
Ber. Oh, it's awful: But when it comes to the speculative—that we all have to admit is interesting. The conversations among all the virtuous women in town revolve around that and new clothes.
Aman. Pray be so just then to me, to believe, 'tis with a World of Innocency I wou'd enquire, Whether you think those Women we call Women of Reputation, do really 'scape all other Men, as they do those Shadows of 'em, the Beaux.
Aman. Please be fair to me and believe that, with all innocence, I would like to ask whether you think the women we refer to as women of reputation really manage to avoid all other men, just as they do those superficial ones, the pretty boys.
Ber. O no, Amanda; there are a sort of Men make dreadful Work amongst 'em: Men that may be call'd The Beaux Antipathy; for they agree in nothing but walking upon two Legs.
Ber. Oh no, Amanda; there are some guys who create terrible chaos among them: guys who could be called The Beaux Antipathy; because they have nothing in common except for walking on two legs.
These guys are smitten with their lady: The handsome one is into himself.
They look after her reputation: He's working hard to ruin it. They're decent: He's a dandy.
They sound good: He's terrible.
They are men: he's an ass.
Aman. If this be their Character, I fancy we had here e'en now a Pattern of 'em both.
Aman. If this is their character, I think we just had an example of both of them right here.
Ber. His Lordship and Mr. Worthy?
Lord and Mr. Worthy?
Aman. The same.
Same.
Ber. As for the Lord, he's eminently so; And for the other, I can assure you, there's not a Man in Town who has a better Interest with the Women, that are worth having an Interest with. But 'tis all private: He's like a Back-stair Minister at Court, who, whilst the reputed Favourites are sauntering in the Bed-chamber, is ruling the Roast in the Closet.
Ber. As for the Lord, he definitely is; and as for the other, I can guarantee you, there isn't a single guy in town who has a better connection with the women worth having connections with. But it's all behind the scenes: he's like a behind-the-scenes Minister at Court, who, while the supposed favorites are lounging in the bedroom, is actually calling the shots in private.
Aman. He answers then the Opinion I had ever of him.[Pg 41] Heavens! What a difference there is between a Man like him, and that vain nauseous Fop, Sir Novelty! [Taking her Hand.] I must acquaint you with a Secret, Cousin. 'Tis not that Fool alone has talked to me of Love, Worthy has been tampering too: 'Tis true, he has done it in vain: Not all his Charms or Art have power to shake me. My Love, my Duty, and my Virtue, are such faithful Guards, I need not fear my Heart shou'd e'er betray me. But what I wonder at is this: I find I did not start at his Proposal, as when it came from one whom I contemn'd. I therefore mention this Attempt, that I may learn from you whence it proceeds, that Vice, which cannot change its Nature, shou'd so far change at least its Shape, as that the self-same Crime propos'd from one shall seem a Monster gaping at your Ruin, when from another it shall look so kind, as tho' it were your Friend, and never meant to harm you. Whence think you, can this Difference proceed? For 'tis not Love, Heaven knows.
Aman. He confirms the opinion I’ve always had of him.[Pg 41] Wow! What a difference there is between a man like him and that vain, irritating fop, Sir Novelty! [Taking her hand.] I need to share a secret with you, cousin. It's not just that fool who has talked to me about love; Worthy has been trying too. It's true, he has done it in vain: none of his charms or tricks can sway me. My love, duty, and virtue are such reliable guards that I need not fear my heart would ever betray me. But what surprises me is this: I didn’t flinch at his proposal the way I did when it came from someone I disdained. I mention this attempt to understand from you why it is that vice, which cannot change its nature, should at least change its appearance so much that the same crime suggested by one person seems like a monster ready to destroy you while from another it appears so friendly, as though it means you no harm at all. Where do you think this difference comes from? Because it's definitely not love, that's for sure.
Ber. O no; I wou'd not for the World believe it were. But possibly, shou'd there a dreadful Sentence pass upon you, to undergo the Rage of both their Passions; the Pain you apprehend from one might seem so trivial to the other, the Danger wou'd not quite so much alarm you.
Ber. Oh no; I wouldn't believe it for anything in the world. But maybe, if a terrible sentence were to be passed on you, experiencing the anger of both of their passions; the pain you expect from one might seem so minor compared to the other, the danger wouldn't be as frightening to you.
Aman. Fy, fy, Berinthia! you wou'd indeed alarm me, cou'd you incline me to a Thought, that all the Merit of Mankind combin'd, cou'd shake that tender Love I bear my Husband: No, he sits triumphant in my Heart, and nothing can dethrone him.
Aman. Oh, Berinthia! You would really worry me if you could make me think that all the goodness in the world could shake the deep love I have for my husband. No, he reigns supreme in my heart, and nothing can change that.
Ber. But shou'd he abdicate again, do you think you shou'd preserve the vacant Throne ten tedious Winters more, in hopes of his return?
Ber. But if he abdicates again, do you really think you would wait on the empty throne for ten long winters, just hoping he comes back?
Aman. Indeed I think I shou'd. Tho' I confess, after those Obligations he has to me, shou'd he abandon me once more, my Heart wou'd grow extremely urgent with me to root him thence, and cast him out for ever.
Aman. I really think I should. Although I admit, after everything he owes me, if he were to abandon me again, my heart would be extremely determined to banish him and kick him out for good.
Ber. Were I that thing they call a slighted Wife, some Body shou'd run the risque of being that thing they call—a Husband.
Ber. If I were what they call a neglected wife, someone would have to take the risk of being what they call a husband.
Aman. O fy, Berinthia! No Revenge shou'd ever be[Pg 42] taken against a Husband: But to wrong his Bed is a Vengeance, which of all Vengeance——
Aman. Oh my, Berinthia! No act of revenge should ever be[Pg 42] taken against a husband: But to betray his trust is a form of vengeance that is, above all others—
Ber. Is the sweetest—ha, ha, ha! Don't I talk madly?
Ber. It's the sweetest—ha, ha, ha! Am I talking crazy?
Aman. Madly indeed.
Aman. Totally crazy.
Ber. Yet I'm very innocent.
Ber. Yet I'm so innocent.
Aman. That I dare swear you are. I know how to make Allowances for your Humour: You were always very entertaining Company; but I find since Marriage and Widowhood have shewn you the World a little, you are very much improv'd.
Aman. I can confidently say that's true. I know how to be flexible with your quirks; you've always been great company. However, since marriage and widowhood have given you a glimpse of the world, I can see you've greatly improved.
Ber. [Aside.] Alack a-day, there has gone more than that to improve me, if she knew all.
Ber. [Aside.] Oh man, there’s been a lot more than that to make me better, if she only knew everything.
Aman. For Heaven's sake, Berinthia, tell me what way I shall take to persuade you to come and live with me?
Aman. For goodness' sake, Berinthia, tell me how I can convince you to come and live with me?
Ber. Why, one way in the World there is——and but one.
Ber. Well, there's only one way in the world—and just that one.
Aman. Pray which is that?
Aman. Which prayer is that?
Ber. It is to assure me—I shall be very welcome.
Ber. It’s to make sure I know—I’ll be very welcome.
Aman. If that be all, you shall e'en lie here to-night.
Aman. If that's all, you can just stay here tonight.
Ber. To-night?
Ber. Tonight?
Aman. Yes, to-night.
Aman. Yes, tonight.
Ber. Why, the People where I lodge will think me mad.
Ber. The people I live with will think I'm crazy.
Aman. Let 'em think what they please.
Aman. Let them think whatever they want.
Ber. Say you so, Amanda? Why then they shall think what they please: For I'm a young Widow, and I care not what any body thinks. Ah, Amanda, it's a delicious thing to be a young Widow.
Ber. Is that what you think, Amanda? Well, let them believe what they want: I'm a young widow, and I don't care what anyone thinks. Ah, Amanda, it's a wonderful thing to be a young widow.
Aman. You'll hardly make me think so.
Aman. You won't convince me of that.
Ber. Phu, because you are in love with your Husband: but that is not every Woman's Case.
Ber. Phu, because you love your husband: but that isn't true for every woman.
Aman. I hope 'twas yours, at least.
Aman. I hope it was yours, at least.
Ber. Mine, say ye? Now I have a great mind to tell you a Lye, but I shou'd do it so aukwardly, you'd find me out.
Ber. Mine, you say? Now I really want to tell you a lie, but I'd do it so awkwardly that you'd catch me.
Aman. Then e'en speak the Truth.
Aman. Then just speak the truth.
Ber. Shall I?——Then after all, I did love him, Amanda——as a Nun does Penance.[Pg 43] Aman. Why did not you refuse to marry him, then?
Ber. Should I?——So, I really did love him, Amanda——like a nun loves penance.[Pg 43] Aman. Then why didn't you refuse to marry him?
Ber. Because my Mother wou'd have whipt me.
Ber. Because my mom would have grounded me.
Aman. How did you live together?
Aman. How did you cohabitate?
Ber. Like Man and Wife—asunder;
Like Husband and Wife—apart;
He hunts with hawks and hounds, I travel with coaches and carriages.
He’s eating and drinking, while I’m carding and playing.
He hears the sound of a horn, I hear the squeak of a fiddle.
We were boring company at the table and even worse in bed.
Whenever we met, we took shots at each other. And only agreed once, which was about lying alone.
Aman. But tell me one thing truly and sincerely.
Aman. But tell me one thing honestly and with sincerity.
Ber. What's that?
Ber. What's that?
Aman. Notwithstanding all these Jars, did not his Death at last extremely trouble you?
Aman. Despite all these jars, didn't his death really upset you?
Ber. O yes: Not that my present Pangs were so very violent, but the After-pains were intolerable. I was forc'd to wear a beastly Widow's Band a Twelvemonth for't.
Ber. Oh yes: It's not that my current pains are that intense, but the after-effects were unbearable. I had to wear a nasty widow's band for a whole year because of it.
Aman. Women, I find, have different Inclinations.
Aman. I’ve noticed that women have different preferences.
Ber. Women, I find, keep different Company. When your Husband ran away from you, if you had fallen into some of my Acquaintance, 'twou'd have sav'd you many a Tear. But you go and live with a Grandmother, a Bishop, and an old Nurse, which was enough to make any Woman break her Heart for her Husband. Pray, Amanda, if ever you are a Widow again, keep yourself so as I do.
Ber. I’ve noticed that women have different kinds of company. If your husband had left you and you had connected with some of my friends, it would have saved you a lot of tears. But instead, you choose to live with a grandmother, a bishop, and an old nurse, which is enough to make any woman heartbroken over her husband. Please, Amanda, if you ever find yourself a widow again, surround yourself with better company like I do.
Aman. Why, do you then resolve you'll never marry?
Aman. So, are you saying you’ve decided to never get married?
Ber. O, no; I resolve I will.
Ber. Oh, no; I’m determined I will.
Aman. How so?
Aman. How come?
Ber. That I never may.
Ber. That I never will.
Aman. You banter me.
Aman. You're teasing me.
Ber. Indeed I don't. But I consider I'm a Woman, and form my Resolutions accordingly.
Ber. Actually, I don’t. But I see myself as a woman, and I make my decisions based on that.
Aman. Well, my Opinion is, form what Resolution you will, Matrimony will be the end on't.
Aman. Well, in my opinion, no matter what decision you make, marriage will be the result.
Ber. Faith it won't.
Ber. I hope not.
Aman. How do you know?
Aman. How do you know?
Ber. I'm sure on't.
Ber. I’m sure of it.
Aman. Why, do you think 'tis impossible for you to fall in love?
Aman. Why do you think it's impossible for you to fall in love?
Ber. No.
No.
Aman. Nay, but to grow so passionately fond, that nothing but the Man you love can give you rest?
Aman. No, but to become so deeply in love that nothing but the person you love can bring you peace?
Ber. Well, what then?
Ber. So, what now?
Aman. Why, then you'll marry him.
Aman. So, you're going to marry him.
Ber. How do you know that?
Ber. How do you know?
Aman. Why, what can you do else?
Aman. What else can you offer?
Ber. Nothing—but sit and cry.
Nothing—just sit and cry.
Aman. Psha.
Aman. Psh.
Ber. Ah, poor Amanda, you have led a Country Life: But if you'll consult the Widows of this Town, they'll tell you, you shou'd never take a Lease of a House you can hire for a Quarter's Warning.
Ber. Ah, poor Amanda, you've experienced country living: But if you talk to the widows in this town, they'll tell you that you should never sign a lease for a house that you can rent with just a month's notice.
[Exeunt.
[They leave.]
ACT III.
Enter Lord Foppington and Servant.
Enter Lord Foppington and Servant.
Lord Fop. Hey, Fellow, let the Coach come to the Door.
Lord Fop. Hey, buddy, have the car come to the door.
Serv. Will your Lordship venture so soon to expose yourself to the Weather?
Serv. Are you really going to go out in this weather so soon, my Lord?
Lord Fop. Sir, I will venture as soon as I can, to expose myself to the Ladies: tho' give me my Cloke, however; for in that Side-bax, what between the Air that comes in at the Door on one side, and the intolerable Warmth of the Masks on t'other, a Man gets so many Heats and Colds, 'twou'd destroy the Canstitution of a Harse.
Lord Fop. Sir, I will take the chance as soon as I can to show myself to the ladies; but give me my cloak, though. Because on that side, with the air coming in through the door on one side and the unbearable heat from the masks on the other, a man gets so many chills and sweats, it would ruin the constitution of a horse.
Ser. [Putting on his Cloke.] I wish your Lordship wou'd please to keep House a little longer, I'm afraid your Honour does not well consider your Wound.
Ser. [Putting on his Cloak.] I wish you would please to stay inside a little longer; I'm concerned that you don't fully appreciate the seriousness of your wound.
Lord Fop. My Wound!—--I wou'd not be in Eclipse another Day, tho' I had as many Wounds in my Guts as I have had in my Heart.
Lord Fop. My God!—I wouldn't want to be in the shadows another day, even if I had as many wounds in my stomach as I've had in my heart.
Enter Young Fashion.
Welcome to Young Fashion.
Young Fash. Brother, your Servant. How do you find yourself to-day?
Young Fash. Brother, your servant. How are you doing today?
Lord Fop. So well, that I have arder'd my Coach to the Door: So there's no great Danger of Death this baut, Tam.
Lord Fop. I'm doing so well that I've ordered my coach to the door. So there's not much risk of dying this time, Tam.
Young Fash. I'm very glad of it.
Young Fash. I’m really happy about that.
Lord Fop. aside.] That I believe's a Lye. Pr'ythee, Tam, tell me one thing: Did not your Heart cut a Caper up to your Mauth, when you heard I was run thro' the Bady?
Lord Fop. aside.] I think that's a lie. Please, Tam, tell me one thing: Didn't your heart do a little dance when you heard I got stabbed in the gut?
Young Fash. Why do you think it shou'd?
Young Fash. Why do you think it should?
Lord Fop. Because I remember mine did so, when I heard my Father was shat thro' the Head?
Lord Fop. Because I remember mine did, when I heard my dad had been shot in the head?
Young Fash. It then did very ill.
Young Fash. It then did very poorly.
Lord Fop. Pr'ythee, why so?
Lord Fop. Please, why is that?
Young Fash. Because he us'd you very well.
Young Fash. Because he treated you very well.
Lord Fop. Well?—naw strike me dumb, he starv'd me. He has let me want a Thausand Women for want of a Thausand Paund.
Lord Fop. Well?—Honestly, I'm at a loss for words, he left me hanging. He's denied me a thousand women because he won't give me a thousand pounds.
Young Fash. Then he hindered you from making a great many ill Bargains; for I think no Woman is worth Money, that will take Money.
Young Fash. Then he kept you from making a lot of bad deals; because I believe no woman is worth money if she will accept money.
Lord Fop. If I were a younger Brother, I shou'd think so too.
Lord Fop. If I were a younger brother, I would think so too.
Young Fash. Why, is it possible you can value a Woman that's to be bought?
Young Fash. Seriously, can you really value a woman who’s for sale?
Lord Fop. Pr'ythee, why not as well as a Pad-Nag?
Lord Fop. Please tell me, why not as good as a nag?
Young Fash. Because a Woman has a Heart to dispose of; a Horse has none.
Young Fash. Because a woman has a heart to give, but a horse does not.
Lord Fop. Look you, Tam, of all things that belang to a Woman, I have an Aversion to her Heart; far when once a Woman has given you her Heart——you can never get rid of the rest of her Bady.
Lord Fop. Listen, Tam, of all the things that belong to a woman, I really dislike her heart; because once a woman has given you her heart—you can never get rid of the rest of her body.
Young Fash. This is strange Doctrine: But pray in your Amours how is it with your own Heart?
Young Fash. This is a strange idea: But tell me, in your love life, how do you feel about your own heart?
Lord Fop. Why, my Heart in my Amours——is like——my Heart aut of my Amours; a la glace. My Bady, Tam, is a Watch; and my Heart is the Pendulum[Pg 46] to it; whilst the Finger runs raund to every Hour in the Circle, that still beats the same time.
Lord Fop. My heart in love is like my heart out of love—like a mirror. My body, Tam, is a watch, and my heart is the pendulum[Pg 46] that keeps it going; while the hand moves around to every hour in the circle, it still ticks the same time.
Young Fash. Then you are seldom much in love?
Young Fash. So, you're not often in love?
Lord Fop. Never, Stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. Never, I swear!
Young Fash. Why then did you make all this Bustle about Amanda?
Young Fash. So why did you make such a big deal about Amanda?
Lord Fop. Because she was a Woman of an insolent Virtue, and I thought myself piqu'd in Honour to debauch her.
Lord Fop. Because she was a woman with arrogant virtue, and I felt it was my honor to seduce her.
Young Fash. Very well. [Aside.] Here's a rare Fellow for you, to have the spending of Five Thousand Pounds a-year. But now for my Business with him. [To Lord Fop.] Brother, tho' I know to talk of Business (especially of Money) is a Theme not quite so entertaining to you as that of the Ladies, my Necessities are such, I hope you'll have patience to hear me.
Young Fash. Alright then. [Aside.] Here’s a unique guy, getting to spend five thousand pounds a year. But now, let’s get to my business with him. [To Lord Fop.] Brother, even though I know talking about business (especially money) isn’t as interesting to you as chatting about women, my needs are pressing, so I hope you’ll be patient and listen to me.
Lord Fop. The greatness of your Necessities, Tam, is the worst Argument in the Warld far your being patiently heard. I do believe you are going to make a very good Speech, but, strike me dumb, it has the worst beginning of any Speech I have heard this Twelvemonth.
Lord Fop. The seriousness of your needs, Tam, is the least convincing reason for you to be listened to patiently. I really think you're about to deliver a solid speech, but honestly, it has the worst opening of any speech I've heard this year.
Young Fash. I'm very sorry you think so.
Young Fash. I'm really sorry you feel that way.
Lord Fop. I do believe thou art. But come, let's know thy Affair quickly; for 'tis a new Play, and I shall be so rumpled and squeezed with pressing thro' the Crawd, to get to my Servant, the Women will think I have lain all Night in my Clothes.
Lord Fop. I really think you are. But come on, let's get to your business quickly; it's a new play, and I'm going to be so wrinkled and squished from pushing through the crowd to reach my servant that the women will think I've slept all night in my clothes.
Young Fash. Why then (that I may not be the Author of so great a Misfortune) my Case in a Word is this: The necessary Expences of my Travels have so much exceeded the wretched Income of my Annuity, that I have been forced to mortgage it for Five Hundred Pounds, which is spent; so that unless you are so kind to assist me in redeeming it, I know no Remedy but to take a Purse.
Young Fash. So, to avoid being responsible for such a huge misfortune, let me put it simply: The essential costs of my travels have far exceeded the miserable income from my annuity, forcing me to mortgage it for five hundred pounds, which is now gone. Unless you could kindly help me pay it back, I see no option but to resort to theft.
Lord Fop. Why, Faith, Tam——to give you my Sense of the thing, I do think taking a Purse the best Remedy in the Warld; for if you succeed, you are reliev'd that way; if you are taken——you are reliev'd t'other.
Lord Fop. Well, honestly, Tam——to share my opinion on it, I really believe stealing a wallet is the best solution in the world; because if you succeed, you get helped out that way; if you get caught——you're relieved in the other way.
Young Fash. I'm glad to see you are in so pleasant a Humour, I hope I shall find the Effects on't.
Young Fash. I'm happy to see you're in such a good mood; I hope I’ll feel the effects of it.
Lord Fop. Why, do you then really think it a reasonable thing I should give you Five Hundred Paunds?
Lord Fop. So, do you really think it makes sense for me to give you five hundred pounds?
Young Fash. I do not ask it as a Due, Brother, I am willing to receive it as a Favour.
Young Fash. I'm not asking for it as a right, Brother; I'm happy to accept it as a favor.
Lord Fop. Thau art willing to receive it any haw, strike me speechless. But these are damn'd times to give Money in: Taxes are so great, Repairs so exorbitant, Tenants such Rogues, and Perriwigs so dear, that the Devil take me, I'm reduc'd to that extremity in my Cash, I have been farc'd to retrench in that one Article of sweet Pawder, till I have braught it dawn to Five Guineas a Manth. Naw judge, Tam, whether I can spare you Five hundred Paunds?
Lord Fop. You’re willing to take it anyway, which leaves me speechless. But these are tough times to give Money: Taxes are so high, Repairs are outrageous, Tenants are such crooks, and Wigs are so expensive, that honestly, I’m down to my last few bucks. I’ve even had to cut back on my precious Powder, bringing it down to five Guineas a month. Now, tell me, Tam, can I really spare you five hundred Pounds?
Young Fash. If you can't, I must starve, that's all, [Aside.] Damn him.
Young Fash. If you can't, I’ll have to starve, that’s it, [Aside.] Damn him.
Lord Fop. All I can say is, you should have been a better Husband.
Lord Fop. All I can say is, you should have been a better husband.
Young Fash. 'Oons, if you can't live upon five thousand a-year, how do you think I should do't upon two hundred?
Young Fash. "Oons, if you can't get by on five thousand a year, how do you think I can manage on two hundred?"
Lord Fop. Don't be in a Passion, Tam; far Passion is the most unbecoming thing in the Warld——to the Face. Look you, I don't love to say any thing to you to make you melancholy; but upon this occasion I must take leave to put you in mind, that a Running Horse does require more Attendance, than a Coach-Horse. Nature has made some difference 'twixt you and I.
Lord Fop. Don't get all worked up, Tam; honestly, getting angry is the most unflattering thing in the world—especially for your face. I don’t want to bring you down, but in this situation, I have to remind you that a racehorse needs more care than a carriage horse. Nature has definitely made some distinctions between you and me.
Young Fash. Yes, she has made you older. [Aside.] Pox take her.
Young Fash. Yes, she's made you older. [Aside.] Curse her.
Lord Fop. That is nat all. Tam.
Lord Fop. That's not all. Tam.
Young Fash. Why, what is there else?
Young Fash. Why, what else is there?
Lord Fop. [Looking first upon himself, then upon his Brother.]——Ask the Ladies.
Lord Fop. [First glancing at himself, then at his Brother.]——Ask the ladies.
Young Fash. Why, thou Essence Bottle, thou Musk-Cat, dost thou then think thou hast any Advantage over me, but what Fortune has given thee?
Young Fash. Why, you Essence Bottle, you Musk-Cat, do you really think you have any advantage over me besides what luck has given you?
Lord Fop. I do——stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. I do—stap my guts.
Young Fash. Now, by all that's great and powerful, thou art the Prince of Coxcombs.
Young Fash. Now, by everything that's amazing and powerful, you are the Prince of Fools.
Lord Fop. Sir——I am praud of being at the Head of so prevailing a Party.
Lord Fop. Sir—I am proud to be at the forefront of such a powerful group.
Young Fash. Will nothing then provoke thee?—Draw, Coward.
Young Fash. Will nothing get you to react?—Come on, you coward.
Lord Fop. Look you, Tam, you know I have always taken you for a mighty dull Fellow, and here is one of the foolishest Plats broke out, that I have seen a long time. Your Paverty makes your Life so burdensome to you, you would provoke me to a Quarrel, in hopes either to slip thro' my Lungs into my Estate, or to get yourself run thro' the Guts, to put an end to your Pain. But I will disappoint you in both your Designs; far with the Temper of a Philasapher, and the Discretion of a Statesman—I will go to the Play with my Sword in my Scabbard.
Lord Fop. Listen, Tam, I've always thought you were pretty dull, and this is one of the dumbest schemes I've seen in a while. Your poverty makes your life so miserable that you'd try to start a fight with me, hoping either to weasel your way into my fortune or to get yourself killed to end your suffering. But I won’t fall for either of your plans; with the patience of a philosopher and the wisdom of a statesman—I’m going to the theater with my sword sheathed.
[Exit Lord Fop.
[Exit Lord Fop.]
Young Fash. So! Farewel, Snuff-Box. And now, Conscience, I defy thee. Lory!
Young Fash. So! Goodbye, Snuff-Box. And now, Conscience, I challenge you. Lory!
Enter Lory.
Enter Lory.
Lo. Sir.
Okay, Sir.
Young Fash. Here's rare News, Lory; his Lordship has given me a Pill has purg'd off all my Scruples.
Young Fash. Here's some rare news, Lory; his Lordship has given me a pill that has cleared away all my doubts.
Lo. Then my Heart's at ease again: For I have been in a lamentable Fright, Sir, ever since your Conscience had the Impudence to intrude into your Company.
Look. Now my heart feels calm again: I've been in a terrible panic, Sir, ever since your conscience had the nerve to interfere with your company.
Young Fash. Be at peace, it will come there no more: My Brother has given it a wring by the Nose, and I have kick'd it down Stairs. So run away to the Inn; get the Horses ready quickly, and bring them to old Coupler's, without a Moment's Delay.
Young Fash. Don't worry, it won't come back: My brother has given it a twist by the nose, and I’ve kicked it down the stairs. So hurry to the inn; get the horses ready fast, and bring them to old Coupler’s, without wasting any time.
Lo. Then, Sir, you are going straight about the Fortune.
Look. So, Sir, you're going directly after the Fortune.
Young Fash. I am: away; fly, Lory.
Young Fash. I am: out; peace out, Lory.
Lo. The happiest Day I ever saw. I'm upon the Wing already.
Look. The happiest day I've ever seen. I'm already on my way.
[Exeunt several ways.
[They exit in different ways.]
SCENE, A Garden.
Enter Loveless and Servant.
Enter Loveless and Servant.
Lov. Is my Wife within?
Lov. Is my wife in there?
Ser. No, Sir, she has been gone out this Half-hour.
Ser. No, Sir, she left about half an hour ago.
Lov. 'Tis well; leave me.
Love. That's fine; leave me.
Solus.
Solo.
Before Amanda's Heart and mine must find peace;
Otherwise, why among those legions of her kind, Which crowd the World,
Should she choose for her Companion
The only one on Earth Who has Nature chosen for her downfall? I said it wasn't about undoing—Who can undo her?
Isn't her empire set? Am I not hers? Did she not save me, a begging Slave,
When chained and constrained by that cruel Tyrant Vice,
Did I toil in his worst tasks? Did she not pay to free me and set me free? No, more:
When I’m sunk by my mistakes To a shabby, pitiful beggar,
Didn't she elevate me to coveted success?
Give me her, along with everything she owned? Without thinking of getting more in return,
Than what a poor, remorseful heart could create for her,
Hasn't she done this? And if she has,
Am I not really obligated to love her for that? To love her—Well, don’t I love her? I really do! No, I have proof that I do:
I would give my life to serve her.
But wait—If I give up my life
Be a demonstration of my love,
[Pg 50] What am I feeling for Berinthia?
If she were in danger, I think I could lean toward To take a chance for her service as well; and still, I don't love her.
How does my proof exist?—
—Oh, I've figured it out.
What I would do for one is show my love; And if I'd do as much for the other: there is proof
of my friendship—yes—it has to be. I realize I'm definitely her friend. But let me ask myself one puzzling Question more: Where does this strong Friendship come from all of a sudden? Our acquaintance is more recent. Now friendship's
is considered a plant that grows slowly, with its root made of delicate fibers, sensitive in their taste, careful in spreading, checked with the smallest amount of corruption in the
Soil, long before it takes, and even longer before it shows up to do it; while mine is in a Moment shot so high, and fixed so fast, it seems too powerful for storms to shake it. I doubt it grows too quickly.
[Musing.
[Thoughts.
Enter Berinthia.
Enter Berinthia.
Ber. What makes you look so thoughtful, Sir? I hope you are not ill.
Ber. Why do you look so deep in thought, Sir? I hope you're not feeling unwell.
Lov. I was debating, Madam, whether I was so or not; and that was it which made me look so thoughtful.
Lov. I was wondering, Madam, if I was or wasn't; and that's what made me look so deep in thought.
Ber. Is it then so hard a matter to decide? I thought all People had been acquainted with their own Bodies, tho' few People know their own Minds.
Ber. Is it really that difficult to decide? I thought everyone knew their own bodies, even though few people understand their own minds.
Lov. What if the Distemper, I suspect, be in the Mind?
Lov. What if the illness I'm worried about is in the mind?
Ber. Why then I'll undertake to prescribe you a Cure.
Ber. Then I'll make sure to recommend a treatment for you.
Lov. Alas, you undertake you know not what.
Lov. Unfortunately, you are taking on something you don't fully understand.
Ber. So far at least then allow me to be a Physician.
Ber. For now, just let me be a doctor.
Lov. Nay, I'll allow you so yet farther: For I have reason to believe, shou'd I put myself into your Hands, you wou'd increase my Distemper.
Lov. No, I'll give you that much: I have reason to believe that if I put myself in your hands, you would make my trouble even worse.
Ber. Perhaps I might have Reasons from the College not to be too quick in your Cure; but 'tis possible, I might find ways to give you often Ease, Sir.
Ber. Maybe I have reasons from the College to not rush your treatment, but it's possible I could find ways to give you some relief often, Sir.
Lov. Were I but sure of that, I'd quickly lay my Case before you.
Lov. If I were sure of that, I'd quickly present my case to you.
Ber. Whether you are sure of it or no, what Risk do you run in trying?
Ber. Whether you’re sure about it or not, what do you risk by trying?
Lov. O, a very great one.
Love. Oh, a really big one.
Ber. How?
Ber. How?
Lov. You might betray my Distemper to my Wife.
Lov. You might tell my wife about my mood.
Ber. And so lose all my Practice.
Ber. And then lose all my practice.
Lov. Will you then keep my Secret?
Lov. Can you keep my secret?
Ber. I will, if it don't burst me.
Ber. I will, if it doesn't make me explode.
Lov. Swear.
Love. Promise.
Ber. I do.
I do.
Lov. By what?
Love. By what?
Ber. By Woman.
Ber. By Woman.
Lov. That's swearing by my Deity. Do it by your own, or I shan't believe you.
Lov. You're swearing by my God. Do it by yours, or I won't believe you.
Ber. By Man then.
By Man then.
Lov. I'm satisfy'd. Now hear my Symptoms, and give me your Advice. The first were these:
Lov. I'm satisfied. Now listen to my symptoms and give me your advice. The first ones are these:
A random glance you gave me startled me at first, I couldn't take my eyes off where the danger was coming from:
I looked at you until you shot again,
And then my fears overwhelmed me.
My heart started to race, and my limbs began to shake,
My blood thinned, my pulse raced,
My eyes burned and became blurry, and the whole frame of nature Shaken with Anxiety. It's true, some small recruits of resolution
My Manhood came to my aid,
And with their help, I held my ground for a while,
But finally, I found that your arrows flew so thick, They couldn't help but hurt me;
So left the field,
And ran for shelter to Amanda's Arms.
What do you think of these symptoms, please?
Ber. Feverish every one of 'em. But what Relief pray did your Wife afford you?
Ber. They're all restless. But what relief, may I ask, did your wife provide you?
Lov. Why, instantly she let me Blood, which for the present much assuag'd my Flame. But when I saw you,[Pg 52] out it burst again, and rag'd with greater Fury than before. Nay, since you now appear, 'tis so increas'd, that in a Moment, if you do not help me, I shall, whilst you look on, consume to Ashes.
Lov. The moment she let me have a taste of her blood, it calmed my passion for a bit. But when I saw you,[Pg 52] it flared up again, raging even more intensely than before. Now that you’re here, it’s grown so much that if you don’t help me right away, I’ll, while you watch, burn to ashes.
[Taking hold of her Hand.
Holding her hand.
Ber. [Breaking from him.] O Lard, let me go: 'Tis the Plague, and we shall all be infected.
Ber. [Breaking from him.] Oh Lord, let me go: It’s the Plague, and we’re all going to get sick.
Lov. [Catching her in his Arms, and kissing her.] Then we'll die together, my charming Angel.
Lov. [Catching her in his arms and kissing her.] Then we'll die together, my lovely Angel.
Ber. O Ged——the Devil's in you. Lard, let me go, here's somebody coming.
Ber. O Ged—the Devil's in you. Lard, let me go, someone's coming.
Enter Servant.
Servant enters.
Serv. Sir, my Lady's come home, and desires to speak with you: She's in her Chamber.
Serv. Sir, my lady's back and wants to talk to you: She's in her room.
Lov. Tell her I'm coming.
Love. Tell her I'm on my way.
[Exit Serv.
[Exit Service
To Ber. But before I go, one Glass of Nectar more to drink her Health.
To Ber. But before I leave, let’s have one more glass of nectar to toast to her health.
Ber. Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!
Ber. Back off, or I swear I'll hate you!
Lov. [Kissing her.] In Matters of Love, a Woman's Oath is no more to be minded than a Man's.
Lov. [Kissing her.] In Matters of Love, a woman's promise means just as little as a man's.
Ber. Um——
Um——
Enter Worthy.
Enter Worthy.
Wor. Ha! What's here? my old Mistress, and so close, I'faith! I wou'd not spoil her Sport for the Universe.
Wor. Ha! What's this? My old Mistress, and so close, I swear! I wouldn’t ruin her fun for anything in the world.
[He retires.
He’s retiring.
Ber. O Ged——Now do I pray to Heaven, [Exit Loveless running.] with all my Heart and Soul, that the Devil in Hell may take me, if ever——I was better pleas'd in my Life—This Man has bewitch'd me, that's certain. [Sighing.] Well, I am condemn'd, but, Thanks to Heaven, I feel myself each Moment more and more prepar'd for my Execution—Nay, to that degree, I don't perceive I have the least fear of Dying. No, I find, let the Executioner be but a Man, and there's nothing will suffer with more Resolution than a Woman. Well, I never had but one Intrigue yet: But I confess I long to have another. Pray Heaven it end as the first did tho', that we may both grow weary at a time; for 'tis a melancholy thing for Lovers to outlive one another.
Ber. Oh God—Now I earnestly pray to Heaven, [Exit Unloved running.] with all my heart and soul, that the Devil in Hell may take me, if ever——I was happier in my life—This man has definitely ensnared me. [Sighing.] Well, I am doomed, but, thanks to Heaven, I find myself more and more ready for my execution every moment—Actually, to the point where I don’t feel the slightest fear of dying. No, I realize, as long as the executioner is just a man, there’s nothing that can endure with more resolve than a woman. Well, I’ve only ever had one affair: But I admit I’m eager to have another. I pray Heaven it ends like the first did, so that we may both tire of it at the same time; for it’s a sad thing for lovers to outlive one another.
Enter Worthy.
Enter Worthy.
Wor. [Aside.] This Discovery's a lucky one, I hope to make a happy use on't. That Gentlewoman there is no Fool; so I shall be able to make her understand her Interest. [To Ber.] Your Servant, Madam; I need not ask you how you do, you have got so good a Colour.
Wor. [Aside.] This discovery is a fortunate one; I hope to make good use of it. That woman over there is no fool, so I’ll be able to help her recognize her interests. [To Ber.] Good day, ma'am; I don’t need to ask how you’re doing, you look so well.
Ber. No better than I us'd to have, I suppose.
Ber. No better than what I used to have, I guess.
Wor. A little more Blood in your Cheeks.
Wor. A bit more color in your cheeks.
Ber. The Weather's hot.
The weather's hot.
Wor. If it were not, a Woman may have a Colour.
Wor. If that weren't the case, a woman might have a color.
Ber. What do you mean by that?
Ber. What do you mean by that?
Wor. Nothing.
Wor. Nothin'.
Ber. Why do you smile then?
Why are you smiling then?
Wor. Because the Weather's hot.
Work. Because it's hot outside.
Ber. You'll never leave roguing, I see that.
Ber. I can see you'll never stop being a rogue.
Wor. [Putting his Finger to his Nose.] You'll never leave——I see that.
Wor. [Putting his finger to his nose.] You'll never leave—I get it.
Ber. Well, I can't imagine what you drive at. Pray tell me what you mean?
Ber. Well, I can't figure out what you're getting at. Please tell me what you mean?
Wor. Do you tell me, it's the same thing.
Wor. Are you telling me it's the same thing?
Ber. I can't.
I can't.
Wor. Guess!
Guess!
Ber. I shall guess wrong.
I’ll probably guess wrong.
Wor. Indeed you won't.
Sure thing.
Ber. Psha! either tell, or let it alone.
Ber. Come on! Either say it, or just drop it.
Wor. Nay, rather than let it alone, I will tell. But first I must put you in mind that, after what has past 'twixt you and I, very few things ought to be Secrets between us.
Wor. No, instead of leaving it alone, I'll share. But first, I need to remind you that, given what has happened between us, there should be very few secrets between us.
Ber. Why what Secrets do we hide? I know of none.
Ber. Why do we keep secrets? I don't know of any.
Wor. Yes, there are two; one I have hid from you, and t'other you wou'd hide from me. You are fond of Loveless, which I have discover'd; and I am fond of his Wife——
Wor. Yes, there are two; one I've kept from you, and the other you would keep from me. You're into Loveless, which I've found out; and I'm into his wife——
Ber. Which I have discover'd.
Ber. Which I have discovered.
Wor. Very well; now I confess your Discovery to be true, what do you say to mine?
Wor. Alright; I admit your discovery is accurate, what do you think about mine?
Ber. Why, I confess——I wou'd swear 'twere false, if I thought you were Fool enough to believe me.
Ber. Honestly, I would swear it’s not true if I thought you were foolish enough to believe me.
Wor. Now am I almost in Love with you again. Nay, I don't know but I might be quite so, had I made one short Campaign with Amanda. Therefore, if you find 'twould tickle your Vanity, to bring me down once more to your Lure, e'en help me quickly to dispatch her Business, that I may have nothing else to do, but to apply myself to yours.
Wor. I'm almost in love with you again. I don't know, I might really be, if I spent just a little time with Amanda. So, if you think it would boost your ego to reel me in once more, just help me wrap up her situation quickly, so I can focus entirely on you.
Ber. Do you then think, Sir, I am old enough to be a Bawd?
Ber. So, do you really think, Sir, that I'm old enough to be a pimp?
Wor. No, but I think you are wise enough to——
Wor. No, but I think you’re smart enough to——
Ber. To do what?
To do what?
Wor. To hoodwink Amanda with a Gallant, that she mayn't see who is her Husband's Mistress.
Wor. To trick Amanda with a charming guy, so she won't realize who her husband's mistress is.
Ber. [Aside.] He has reason: The Hint's a good one.
Ber. [Aside.] He’s right: The hint is a good one.
Wor. Well, Madam, what think you on't?
Wor. Well, ma'am, what do you think about it?
Ber. I think you are so much a deeper Politician in these Affairs than I am, that I ought to have a very great regard to your Advice.
Ber. I believe you have a much deeper understanding of these matters than I do, so I should take your advice very seriously.
Wor. Then give me leave to put you in mind, that the most easy, safe, and pleasant Situation for your own Amour, is the House in which you now are; provided you keep Amanda from any sort of Suspicion. That the way to do that, is to engage her in an Intrigue of her own, making yourself her Confidante. And the way to bring her to intrigue, is to make her jealous of her Husband in a wrong place; which the more you foment, the less you'll be suspected. This is my Scheme, in short; which if you follow as you shou'd do, (my dear Berinthia) we may all four pass the Winter very pleasantly.
Wor. So let me remind you that the easiest, safest, and most enjoyable situation for your own romance is the house you’re currently in; just make sure to keep Amanda from suspecting anything. The way to do that is to get her involved in her own little affair and make yourself her confidant. To get her to start an affair, you’ll need to make her jealous of her husband in a way that’s not obvious; the more you stir that up, the less suspicion you'll attract. That’s my plan, in short; if you follow it as you should, my dear Berinthia, we can all enjoy a very pleasant winter together.
Ber. Well, I could be glad to have nobody's Sins to answer for but my own. But where there is a Necessity—
Ber. Well, I would be happy to only have my own sins to account for. But when there’s a necessity—
Wor. Right! as you say, where there is a Necessity, a Christian is bound to help his Neighbour. So, good Berinthia, lose no time, but let us begin the Dance as fast as we can.
Wor. Right! Just as you said, when there's a need, a Christian must help their neighbor. So, good Berinthia, don't waste any time, let's start the dance as quickly as we can.
Ber. Not till the Fiddles are in tune, pray, Sir. Your Lady's Strings will be very apt to fly, I can tell you that, if they are wound up too hastily. But if you'll have patience to skrew them to a pitch by degrees, I don't doubt but she may endure to be play'd upon.
Ber. Not until the fiddles are in tune, please, sir. Your lady's strings are likely to snap, trust me, if they're tightened too quickly. But if you're patient and adjust them gradually, I have no doubt she'll be able to handle being played on.
Wor. Ay, and will make admirable Musick too, or I'm mistaken; but have you had no private Closet Discourse with her yet about Males and Females, and so forth, which may give you hopes in her Constitution; for I know her Morals are the Devil against us.
Wor. Yeah, and it will make amazing music too, unless I’m wrong; but haven’t you had any private conversations with her yet about guys and girls, and so on, which might give you some hope in her nature? Because I know her values are really against us.
Ber. I have had so much Discourse with her, that I believe were she once cur'd of her fondness to her Husband, the Fortress of her Virtue wou'd not be so impregnable as she fancies.
Ber. I've talked to her so much that I believe if she were ever cured of her infatuation with her husband, the strength of her virtue wouldn’t be as unbreakable as she thinks.
Wor. What! she runs, I'll warrant you, into that common Mistake of fond Wives, who conclude themselves virtuous, because they can refuse a Man they don't like, when they have got one they do.
Wor. What! I bet she falls into that usual trap of overly attached wives, thinking they’re virtuous just because they can turn down a guy they’re not interested in, now that they have one they like.
Ber. True, and there I think 'tis a presumptuous thing in a Woman to assume the Name of Virtuous, till she has heartily hated her Husband, and been soundly in love with somebody else. Whom if she has withstood—then—much good may it do her!
Ber. True, and I think it's pretty bold for a woman to call herself virtuous until she truly hates her husband and has genuinely fallen in love with someone else. If she has resisted that, then—good luck to her!
Wor. Well, so much for her Virtue. Now, one word of her Inclinations, and every one to their Post. What Opinion do you find she has of me?
Wor. Well, there goes her virtue. Now, as soon as we mention her feelings, everyone rushes to their positions. What do you think her opinion of me is?
Ber. What you cou'd wish; she thinks you handsome and discreet.
Ber. She thinks you're attractive and wise, which is what you would want.
Wor. Good, that's thinking half Seas over. One Tide more brings us into Port.
Wor. Good, that's thinking halfway there. One more tide brings us into port.
Ber. Perhaps it may, tho' still remember, there's a difficult Bar to pass.
Ber. Maybe it will, but keep in mind, there's a tough barrier to get through.
Wor. I know there is, but I don't question I shall get well over it, by the help of such a Pilot.
Wor. I know there is, but I'm sure I'll get through it with the help of a guide like that.
Ber. You may depend upon your Pilot, she'll do the best she can; so weigh Anchor, and be gone as soon as you please.
Ber. You can trust your pilot; she’ll do her best. So raise the anchor and leave whenever you’re ready.
Wor. I'm under Sail already. Adieu.
Under sail already. Goodbye.
[Exit Wor.
[Exit Wor.
Ber. Bon Voyage.
Bon Voyage.
Sola.
Sola.
So, here's fine Work. What a Business have I undertaken! I'm a very pretty Gentlewoman, truly; but there was no avoiding it: He'd have ruin'd me, if I had refus'd him. Besides, faith, I begin to fancy there may be[Pg 56] as much pleasure in carrying on another body's Intrigue, as one's own. This at least is certain, it exercises almost all the entertaining Faculties of a Woman: For there's employment for Hypocrisy, Invention, Deceit, Flattery, Mischief, and Lying.
So, here’s some fine work. What a situation I’ve gotten myself into! I’m quite the attractive woman, really; but I couldn’t avoid it: He would have destroyed me if I had turned him down. Besides, honestly, I’m starting to think there might be as much fun in helping out with someone else’s intrigue as there is in my own. This is at least certain: it exercises almost all the entertaining skills of a woman. There’s plenty of room for hypocrisy, creativity, deceit, flattery, mischief, and lying.
Enter Amanda, her Woman following her.
Enter Amanda, her female companion following her.
Wom. If you please, Madam, only to say, whether you'll have me to buy 'em or not.
Wom. If you don’t mind, Ma'am, just let me know if you want me to buy them or not.
Aman. Yes, no, go fiddle; I care not what you do. Pr'ythee leave me.
Aman. Yes, no, go do whatever; I don't care what you choose to do. Please, just leave me alone.
Wom. I have done.
Woman. I'm done.
[Exit Wom.
[Exit Woman.
Ber. What in the Name of Jove's the matter with you?
Ber. What’s up with you?
Aman. The matter, Berinthia! I'm almost mad, I'm plagu'd to death.
Aman. The issue, Berinthia! I'm nearly losing my mind; I'm completely exhausted.
Ber. Who is it that plagues you?
Who’s bothering you?
Aman. Who do you think shou'd plague a Wife, but her Husband?
Aman. Who do you think should bother a wife, but her husband?
Ber. O ho, is it come to that? We shall have you wish yourself a Widow by and by.
Ber. Oh wow, is it really that bad? You're going to end up wishing you were a widow soon.
Aman. Wou'd I were any thing but what I am! A base ungrateful Man, after what I have done for him, to use me thus!
Aman. I wish I were anything but what I am! A low, ungrateful man, after everything I’ve done for him, to treat me this way!
Ber. What, he has been ogling now, I'll warrant you?
Ber. What, he's been staring now, I bet?
Aman. Yes, he has been ogling.
Aman. Yes, he's been staring.
Ber. And so you are jealous? Is that all?
Ber. So, you're just jealous? Is that it?
Aman. That all! Is jealousy then nothing?
Aman. That's it! Is jealousy really nothing?
Ber. It shou'd be nothing, if I were in your Case.
Ber. It shouldn't be a big deal if I were in your position.
Aman. Why, what wou'd you do?
Aman. What would you do?
Ber. I'd cure myself.
I'd heal myself.
Aman. How?
Aman. How so?
Ber. Let Blood in the fond Vein: Care as little for my Husband as he did for me.
Ber. Let blood flow in the dear vein: Care as little for my husband as he did for me.
Aman. That would not stop his Course.
Aman. That wouldn't hold him back.
Ber. Nor nothing else, when the Wind's in the warm Corner. Look you, Amanda, you may build Castles in the Air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin and lean, and pale and ugly, if you please. But I tell you, no Man worth having is true to his Wife, or can be true to his Wife, or ever was, or ever will be so.
Ber. Nor anything else, when the wind's in the warm corner. Look, Amanda, you can daydream, stress out, and make yourself thin, pale, and unattractive if you want. But I'm telling you, no man worth having is faithful to his wife, can be faithful to his wife, ever was, or ever will be.
Aman. Do you then really think he's false to me? for I did but suspect him.
Aman. Do you really think he's betraying me? I only suspected him.
Ber. Think so? I know he's so.
Ber. Think so? I know he is.
Aman. Is it possible? Pray tell me what you know.
Aman. Is it possible? Please tell me what you know.
Ber. Don't press me then to name Names; for that I have sworn I won't do.
Ber. Don't push me to name names; I've sworn I won't do that.
Aman. Well, I won't; but let me know all you can without Perjury.
Aman. Well, I won't; but tell me everything you can without lying.
Ber. I'll let you know enough to prevent any wise Woman's dying of the Pip; and I hope you'll pluck up your Spirits, and shew, upon occasion, you can be as good a Wife as the best of 'em.
Ber. I'll share enough information to keep any smart woman from dying of the Pip; and I hope you'll lift your spirits and demonstrate, when the time comes, that you can be just as wonderful a wife as the best of them.
Aman. Well, what a Woman, can do I'll endeavour.
Aman. Well, I’ll try to do what a woman can do.
Ber. O, a Woman can do a great deal, if once she sets her mind to it. Therefore pray don't stand trifling any longer, and teasing yourself with this and that, and your Love and your Virtue, and I know not what. But resolve to hold up your Head, get a tiptoe, and look over them all; for to my certain knowledge your husband is a pickering elsewhere.
Ber. Oh, a woman can accomplish a lot if she really puts her mind to it. So please, stop wasting time and torturing yourself with this and that, and your love and your virtue, and whatever else. Just decide to hold your head high, rise up a little, and look beyond it all; because I know for sure your husband is messing around with someone else.
Aman. You are sure on't?
Aman. Are you sure?
Ber. Positively, he fell in love at the Play.
Ber. He definitely fell in love at the play.
Aman. Right, the very same; do you know the ugly thing?
Aman. Yeah, that’s the one; do you know the ugly thing?
Ber. Yes, I know her well enough; but she's no such ugly thing, neither.
Ber. Yeah, I know her pretty well; but she's not that ugly, either.
Aman. Is she very handsome?
Aman. Is she very attractive?
Ber. Truly I think so.
Definitely, I think so.
Aman. Hey-ho!
Aman. Hey!
Ber. What do you sigh for now?
Ber. What are you sighing about now?
Aman. Oh my Heart!
Aman. Oh my gosh!
Ber. [Aside.] Only the Pangs of Nature! she's in Labour of her Love; Heaven send her a quick Delivery! I'm sure she has a good Midwife.
Ber. [Aside.] Just the pains of nature! She's in labor over her love; let’s hope she has a smooth delivery! I'm sure she has a good midwife.
Aman. I'm very ill, I must go to my Chamber; Dear Berinthia, don't leave me a Moment.
Aman. I’m really sick; I need to go to my room. Please, Berinthia, don’t leave me for a second.
Ber. No, don't fear. [Aside.] I'll see you safe brought-to-bed, I'll warrant you.
Ber. No, don’t worry. [Aside.] I’ll make sure you’re safely taken care of, I promise you.
[Exeunt, Amanda leaning upon Berinthia.
[Exit, Amanda leaning on Berinthia.
SCENE, A Country-House.
Enter Young Fashion and Lory.
Enter Young Fashion and Lory.
Young Fash. So, here's our Inheritance, Lory, if we can but get into Possession. But, methinks, the Seat of our Family looks like Noah's Ark, as if the chief part on't were design'd for the Fowls of the Air, and the Beasts of the Field.
Young Fash. So, here's our inheritance, Lory, if we can just get hold of it. But I think the main part of our family home looks like Noah's Ark, as if it was mainly made for the birds in the sky and the animals on land.
Lo. Pray, Sir, don't let your Head run upon the Orders of Building here; get but the Heiress, let the Devil take the House.
Lo. Please, sir, don't focus on the plans for building here; just get the heiress, and let the house go.
Young Fash. Get but the House, let the Devil take the Heiress, I say; at least if she be as old Coupler describes her. But come, we have no time to squander. Knock at the Door. [Lory knocks two or three times.] What the Devil, have they got no Ears in this House? Knock harder.
Young Fash. Just get inside the house; let the Devil have the heiress, I say, at least if she's as old as Coupler says she is. But come on, we don’t have time to waste. Knock on the door. [Lory knocks two or three times.] What the heck, do they not have ears in this house? Knock harder.
Lo. I'gad, Sir, this will prove some inchanted Castle; we shall have the Giant come out by and by with his Club, and beat our Brains out.
Look. I swear, Sir, this is definitely some enchanted castle; we’re going to have the giant come out any minute now with his club and smash our brains in.
[Knocks again.
Knocks again.
Young Fash. Hush! they come.
Young Fash. Quiet! they're coming.
From within.] Who is there?
From within. Who's there?
Lo. Open the Door and see: Is that your Country Breeding?
Lo. Open the door and see: Is that your country’s upbringing?
Within. Ay, but two Words to a Bargain: Tummus, is the Blunderbuss prim'd?
Within. Yeah, just two words to make a deal: Tummus, is the blunderbuss loaded?
Young Fash. Oons, give 'em good Words, Lory; we shall be shot here a Fortune-catching.
Young Fash. Oons, give them some good advice, Lory; we're about to strike it rich here.
Lo. I'gad, Sir, I think y'are in the right on't. Ho, Mr. What d'ye-call-um.—[Servant appears at the Window with a Blunderbuss.] Weal naw, what's yar Business?
Lo. I swear, Sir, I think you're right about that. Hey, Mr. What's-his-name.—[Servant appears at the window with a blunderbuss.] Well now, what's your business?
Young Fash. Nothing, Sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with your leave.
Young Fash. Nothing, Sir, just waiting on Sir Tunbelly, if that's alright with you.
Ser. To weat upon Sir Tunbelly? Why, you'll find that's just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.
Ser. To wait on Sir Tunbelly? Well, you'll see that it all depends on what Sir Tunbelly wants.
Young Fash. But will you do me the Favour, Sir, to know whether Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?
Young Fash. But can you do me a favor, sir, and let me know if Sir Tunbelly is pleased or not?
Ser. Why, look you, do you see, with good Words, much may be done. Ralph, go thy weas, and ask Sir[Pg 59] Tunbelly if he pleases to be waited upon. And, do'st hear? call to Nurse, that she may lock up Miss Hoyden before the Gates open.
Ser. Well, you see, with kind words, a lot can be achieved. Ralph, go on and ask Sir[Pg 59] Tunbelly if he would like us to wait for him. And, do you hear me? Tell Nurse to make sure she locks up Miss Hoyden before the gates open.
Young Fash. D'ye hear that, Lory?
Young Fash. Did you hear that, Lory?
Lo. Ay, Sir, I'm afraid we shall find a difficult Jobb on't. Pray Heaven that old Rogue Coupler han't sent us to fetch Milk out of the Gunroom!
Lo. Yes, Sir, I'm afraid we're going to have a tough time with this. Let's hope that old trickster Coupler hasn't sent us to get milk from the armory!
Young Fash. I'll warrant thee all will go well: See; the Door opens.
Young Fash. I’m sure everything will turn out fine: Look; the door is opening.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, with his Servants arm'd with Guns, Clubs, Pitchforks, Scythes, &c.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, with his servants armed with guns, clubs, pitchforks, scythes, etc.
Lo. [Running behind his Master.] O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, we are both dead Men!
Lo. [Running behind his Master.] Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord, we are both dead men!
Young Fash. Take heed, Fool, thy Fear will ruin us.
Young Fash. Listen up, Fool, your fear will destroy us.
Lo. My Fear, Sir—'Sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing. [Aside.] Wou'd I were well up to the Chin in a Horse-Pond!
Look. My fear, sir—damn it, sir, I fear nothing. [Aside.] I wish I were completely submerged in a horse pond!
Sir Tun. Who is it here has any Business with me?
Sir Tun. Who here has any business with me?
Young Fash. Sir, 'tis I, if your Name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsey.
Young Fash. Sir, it’s me, if your name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsey.
Sir Tun. Sir, my Name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsey, whether you have any Business with me or not. So you see I am not asham'd of my Name—nor my Face—neither.
Sir Tun. Sir, my name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsey, whether you have any business with me or not. So you see, I’m not ashamed of my name—or my face—either.
Young Fash. Sir, you have no cause, that I know of.
Young Fash. Sir, as far as I know, you have no reason.
Sir Tun. Sir, if you have no cause neither, I desire to know who you are; for till I know your Name, I shall not ask you to come into my House; and when I know your Name—'tis six to four I don't ask you neither.
Sir Tun. Sir, if you don’t have a reason either, I’d like to know who you are; because until I know your name, I won’t invite you into my house; and once I know your name—I’m betting six to four I won’t invite you either.
Young Fash. [Giving him a Letter.] Sir, I hope you'll find this Letter an Authentick Passport.
Young Fash. [Giving him a Letter.] Sir, I hope you'll find this letter to be a genuine passport.
Sir Tun. God's my life, I ask your Lordship's Pardon ten thousand times. [To his Servant.] Here, run in a-doors quickly: Get a Scotch-Coal Fire in the great Parlour; set all the Turkey-work-Chairs in their places; get the great Brass Candlesticks out; and be sure stick the Sockets full of Laurel; run. [Turning to Young Fash.] My Lord, I ask your Lordship's pardon. [To other Servants.] And do you hear, run away to Nurse, bid her let Miss Hoyden loose again, and if it was not shifting Day, let her put on a clean Tucker—quick!
Sir Tun. Honestly, I’m so sorry, my Lord, a thousand times over. [To his Servant.] Quick, go inside and get a Scotch coal fire started in the big parlor; arrange all the Turkey chairs back in their spots; bring out the big brass candlesticks; and make sure to fill the sockets with laurel. Hurry. [Turning to Young Fashion.] My Lord, I really apologize to you. [To other Servants.] And you, go tell Nurse to let Miss Hoyden out again, and if it’s not changing day, have her put on a clean collar—quick!
[Exeunt Servants confusedly.
[Servants exit in confusion.]
To Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse the disorder of my Family; we are not us'd to receive Men of your Lordship's great Quality every day; pray where are your Coaches and Servants, my Lord?
To Young Fash.] I hope you'll forgive the chaos of my family; we’re not used to having someone of your status over every day. By the way, where are your coaches and servants, my Lord?
Young Fash. Sir, that I might give you and your fair Daughter a proof how impatient I am to be nearer akin to you, I left my Equipage to follow me, and came away Post with only one servant.
Young Fash. Sir, so I can show you and your beautiful daughter how eager I am to be closer to you, I left my carriage to catch up later and came straight here with just one servant.
Sir Tun. Your Lordship does me too much Honour. It was exposing your Person to too much Fatigue and Danger, I protest it was; but my Daughter shall endeavour to make you what amends she can; and tho' I say it, that shou'd not say it—Hoyden has Charms.
Sir Tun. Your Lordship is being too kind to me. It was putting you through too much strain and risk, I truly believe that; but my daughter will try to make it up to you as best she can; and although I shouldn’t say this—Hoyden has her appeal.
Young Fash. Sir, I am not a Stranger to them, tho' I am to her. Common Fame has done her Justice.
Young Fash. Sir, I’m not unfamiliar with them, even though I am with her. Public opinion has given her the credit she deserves.
Sir Tun. My Lord, I am common Fame's very grateful humble Servant. My Lord——my Girl's young: Hoyden is young, my Lord; but this I must say for her, what she wants in Art, she has by Nature; what she wants in Experience, she has in Breeding; and what's wanting in her Age, is made good in her Constitution. So pray, my Lord, walk in; pray, my Lord, walk in.
Sir Tun. My Lord, I am truly grateful to be a servant of common Fame. My Lord—my girl is young: Hoyden is young, my Lord; but I have to say this for her, what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with her natural charm; what she lacks in experience, she has in her upbringing; and what she’s missing in age is compensated for by her vitality. So please, my Lord, come in; please, my Lord, come in.
Young Fash. Sir, I wait upon you.
Young Fash. Sir, I'm here for you.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
Miss Hoyden sola.
Miss Hoyden alone.
Sure never no body was us'd as I am. I know well enough what other Girls do, for all they think to make a Fool of me: It's well I have a Husband a coming, or I'cod, I'd marry the Baker, I wou'd so. No body can knock at the Gate, but presently I must be lockt up; and here's the young Greyhound Bitch can run loose about the House all the day long, she can; 'tis very well.
Sure, no one has ever been treated like I am. I know exactly what other girls do, no matter how much they think they can make a fool out of me. It’s a good thing I have a husband on the way, or honestly, I’d marry the baker, I really would. No one can knock at the gate without me getting locked up right away; and here’s the young greyhound female that can run around the house all day long, she can; it’s just not fair.
Nurse without, opening the Door.
Nurse opening the door.
Miss Hoyden! Miss, Miss, Miss! Miss Hoyden!
Miss Hoyden! Hey, Miss! Miss Hoyden!
Enter Nurse.
Enter Nurse.
Miss. Well, what do you make such a Noise for, ha! What do you din a body's Ears for? Can't one be at quiet for you?
Miss. Well, why are you making such a racket, huh? Why are you blasting in someone's ears? Can't anyone have some peace around you?
Nurse. What do I din your Ears for? Here's one come will din your Ears for you.
Nurse. What should I make noise in your ears for? Here's someone who will make noise in your ears for you.
Miss. What care I who's come? I care not a Fig who comes, nor who goes, as long as I shall be lockt up like the Ale-Cellar.
Miss. I don’t care who’s here. I don’t care at all who comes or goes, as long as I’m locked up like the beer cellar.
Nurse. That, Miss, is for fear you shou'd be drank before you are ripe.
Nurse. That's because we worry you might get drunk before you're ready.
Miss. O, don't you trouble your Head about that; I'm as ripe as you, tho' not so mellow.
Miss. Oh, don’t worry about that; I’m just as ready as you are, even if I’m not quite as relaxed.
Nurse. Very well; now I have a good mind to lock you up again, and not let you see my Lord to-night.
Nurse. Alright; I'm seriously considering locking you up again and not letting you see my Lord tonight.
Miss. My Lord! Why, is my Husband come?
Miss. My Lord! Has my husband arrived?
Nurse. Yes, marry is he, and a goodly Person too.
Nurse. Yes, he is married, and a really good guy too.
Miss. [Hugging Nurse.] O my dear Nurse, forgive, me this once, and I'll never misuse you again; no, if I do, you shall give me three thumps on the Back, and a great pinch by the Cheek.
Miss. [Hugging Nurse.] Oh my dear Nurse, please forgive me this once, and I promise I won't take advantage of you again; no, if I do, you can give me three hard taps on the back and a big pinch on the cheek.
Nurse. Ah the poor Thing, see how it melts; it's as full of Good-Nature as an Egg's full of Meat.
Nurse. Oh, the poor thing, look how it melts; it's as full of kindness as an egg is full of yolk.
Miss. But, my dear Nurse, don't lie now; is he come, by your troth?
Miss. But, my dear Nurse, please don't lie now; has he arrived, honestly?
Nurse. Yes, by my truly, is he.
Nurse. Yes, he definitely is.
Miss. O Lord! I'll go and put on my lac'd Smock, tho' I am whipt till the Blood run down my Heels for't.
Miss. Oh Lord! I'll go and put on my lacey blouse, even though I've been whipped till the blood runs down my heels for it.
[Exit running.
Exit running.
Nurse. Eh——the Lord succour thee, how thou art delighted!
Nurse. Hey—God help you, how happy you are!
[Exit after her.
[Follow her out.
Enter Sir Tunbelly and Young Fashion. A Servant with Wine.
Enter Sir Tunbelly and Youth Fashion. A Servant with Wine.
Sir Tun. My Lord, I'm proud of the Honour to see your Lordship within my Doors: and I humbly crave leave to bid you welcome in a Cup of Sack Wine.
Sir Tun. My Lord, I'm honored to have you here: I respectfully ask for permission to welcome you with a glass of Sack Wine.
Young Fash. Sir, to your Daughter's Health.
Young Fash. Cheers to your daughter's health!
[Drinks.
Beverages.
Sir Tun. Ah poor Girl, she'll be fear'd out of her Wits on her Wedding Night; for, honestly speaking, she does not know a Man from a Woman, but by his Beard, and his Breeches.
Sir Tun. Ah poor girl, she’ll be so scared on her wedding night; honestly, she doesn’t know a man from a woman, except for his beard and his pants.
Young Fash. Sir, I don't doubt she has had a virtuous Education, which, with the rest of her Merit, makes[Pg 62] me long to see her mine. I wish you wou'd dispense with the Canonical Hour, and let it be this very Night.
Young Fash. Sir, I’m sure she has had a good education, which, along with her other qualities, makes[Pg 62] me eager to make her mine. I wish you would skip the traditional timing and allow it to happen tonight.
Sir Tun. O not so soon, neither; that's shooting my Girl before you bid her stand. No, give her fair warning, we'll sign and seal to-night if you please; and this Day seven-night—let the Jade look to her Quarters.
Sir Tun. Not so fast; that's like shooting my girl before you even ask her to stand still. No, give her a fair warning; we'll sign and seal tonight if that works for you. And this time next week—let the girl watch her back.
Young Fash. This Day seven-night——Why, what do you take me for a Ghost, Sir? 'Slife, Sir, I'm made of Flesh and Blood, and Bones and Sinews, and can no more live a Week without your Daughter—than I can live a Month with her.
Young Fash. A week from today——What, do you think I'm a ghost, Sir? Seriously, Sir, I'm made of flesh, blood, bones, and sinews, and I can no more live a week without your daughter than I can live a month with her.
[Aside.
Aside.
Sir Tun. Oh, I'll warrant you, my Hero; young Men are hot, I know, but they don't boil over at that rate, neither; besides, my Wench's Wedding Gown is not come home yet.
Sir Tun. Oh, I can assure you, my Hero; young men are passionate, I know, but they don't get that worked up either; besides, my girl’s wedding dress hasn’t arrived yet.
Young Fash. O, no matter, Sir; I'll take her in her Shift. [Aside.] A Pox of this old Fellow, he'll delay the Business till my damn'd Star finds me out, and discovers me. [To Sir Tun.] Pray, Sir, let it be done without Ceremony; 'twill save Money.
Young Fash. Oh, it doesn't matter, Sir; I'll take her as she is. [Aside.] Damn this old man, he'll stall the whole thing until my cursed fate reveals me. [To Sir Tun.] Please, Sir, let's just get this done without any fuss; it will save us money.
Sir Tun. Money——Save Money when Hoyden's to be marry'd? Udswoons, I'll give my Wench a Wedding-Dinner, tho' I go to Grass with the King of Assyria for't; and such a Dinner it shall be, as is not to be cook'd in the poaching of an Egg. Therefore, my Noble Lord, have a little Patience, we'll go and look over our Deeds and Settlements immediately; and as for your Bride, tho' you may be sharp-set before she's quite ready, I'll engage for my Girl, she stays your Stomach at last.
Sir Tun. Money—Save Money when Hoyden is getting married? Good grief, I'll treat my girl to a wedding dinner, even if I have to beg the King of Assyria for it; and it will be such a dinner that you can't just throw together like cooking an egg. So, my Noble Lord, be a bit patient, and we'll go through our agreements and settlements right away; and about your bride, even if you get a bit hungry before she's all set, I promise my girl will satisfy you in the end.
[Exeunt.
[Leave the stage.]
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Enter Miss Hoyden and Nurse.
Enter Miss Hoyden and Nurse.
Nurse. Well, Miss, how do you like your Husband that is to be?
Nurse. Well, Miss, how do you feel about your future husband?
Miss. O Lord, Nurse, I'm so overjoy'd, I can scarce contain myself.
Miss. Oh my God, Nurse, I'm so happy I can hardly hold it in.
Nurse. O, but you must have a care of being too fond; for Men now a-days hate a Woman that loves 'em.
Nurse. Oh, but you need to be careful not to be too affectionate; because nowadays, men dislike a woman who loves them.
Miss. Love him! Why do you think I love him, Nurse? I'cod, I would not care if he were hang'd, so I were but once married to him——No——that which pleases me, is to think what Work I'll make when I get to London; for when I am a Wife and a Lady both, Nurse, I'cod, I'll flant it with the best of 'em.
Miss. Love him! Why do you think I love him, Nurse? Honestly, I wouldn't care if he were hanged, as long as I got to marry him once—No—what excites me is thinking about the trouble I'll cause when I get to London; because once I'm a wife and a lady, Nurse, you bet I'll show everyone what I've got.
Nurse. Look, look, if his Honour be not a coming to you; now if I were sure you wou'd behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought you up, I'd leave you alone together.
Nurse. Look, look, if he isn’t on his way to you; now if I were sure you’d act properly and not embarrass me after all I’ve done for you, I’d leave you two alone.
Miss. That's my best Nurse, do as you wou'd be done by; trust us together this once; and if I don't shew my Breeding from the Head to the Foot of me, may I be twice married, and die a Maid!
Miss. That's my best nurse, treat us how you'd want to be treated; trust us together just this once; and if I don't show my class from head to toe, may I be married twice and die a virgin!
Nurse. Well, this once I'll venture you; but if you disparage me——
Nurse. Well, I'll take a chance on you this time; but if you talk me down——
Miss. Never fear, I'll shew him my Parts, I'll warrant him.
Miss. Don't worry, I'll show him my skills, I promise.
[Exit Nurse.
[Exit Nurse.
Sola.
Solo.
These old Women are so wise when they get a poor Girl into their Clutches; but ere it be long, I shall know what's what, as well as the best of 'em.
These old women are so clever when they trap a poor girl; but before long, I'll know what's what just as well as they do.
Enter Young Fashion.
Enter Young Fashion.
Young Fash. Your Servant, Madam, I'm glad to find you alone; for I have something of Importance to speak to you about.
Young Fash. Your servant, ma'am, I'm happy to see you're alone; I have something important to discuss with you.
Miss. Sir, (my Lord, I meant) you may speak to me about what you please, I shall give you a civil Answer.
Miss. Sir, (I meant my Lord) you can talk to me about whatever you want; I'll give you a polite response.
Young Fash. You give me so obliging a one, it encourages me to tell you in few Words, what I think both for your Interest and mine. Your Father, I suppose you know, has resolv'd to make me happy in being your Husband, and I hope I may depend upon your Consent, to perform what he desires.
Young Fash. You’re being so accommodating that it motivates me to briefly share what I believe is important for both of us. I assume you’re aware that your father has decided to make me happy by allowing me to be your husband, and I hope I can count on your agreement to fulfill his wishes.
Miss. Sir, I never disobey my Father in any thing but eating of green Gooseberries.
Miss. Sir, I never disobey my father about anything except eating green gooseberries.
Young Fash. So good a Daughter must needs be an admirable Wife; I am therefore impatient till you are mine, and hope you will so far consider the Violence of my Love, that you won't have the Cruelty to defer my Happiness so long as your Father designs it.
Young Fash. A daughter as wonderful as you must be an amazing wife; I can’t wait until you’re mine, and I hope you’ll understand the intensity of my love and not be so cruel as to delay my happiness for as long as your father plans to.
Miss. Pray, my Lord, how long is it?
Miss. Please, my Lord, how much longer is it?
Young Fash. Madam, a thousand Year——a whole Week.
Young Fash. Ma'am, a thousand years—a whole week.
Miss. A Week!—--why, I shall be an old Woman by that time.
Miss. A Week!—why, I'll be an old woman by then.
Young Fash. And I an old Man, which you'll find a greater Misfortune than t'other.
Young Fash. And I’m an old man, which you’ll find is a bigger misfortune than the other one.
Miss. Why I thought it was to be to-morrow Morning, as soon as I was up; I'm sure Nurse told me so.
Miss. I thought it was supposed to be tomorrow morning, as soon as I got up; I'm sure the nurse told me that.
Young Fash. And it shall be to-morrow Morning still, if you'll consent.
Young Fash. And it will be tomorrow morning still, if you agree.
Miss. If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey you as my Husband.
Miss. If I agree! I thought I was supposed to obey you as my husband.
Young Fash. That's when we are married; till then, I am to obey you.
Young Fash. That's when we're married; until then, I have to obey you.
Miss. Why then if we are to take it by turns, it's the same thing: I'll obey you now, and when we are married, you shall obey me.
Miss. Well, if we're going to take turns, it's essentially the same: I'll follow your lead now, and when we're married, you'll follow mine.
Young Fash. With all my heart; but I doubt we must get Nurse on our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the Chaplain.
Young Fash. I truly want to, but I think we need to get Nurse on our side, or we probably won’t be able to convince the Chaplain.
Miss. No more we shan't indeed, for he loves her better than he loves his Pulpit, and wou'd always be a preaching to her, by his good Will.
No way. We definitely won't, because he loves her more than he loves his Pulpit, and he would always be preaching to her if he had his way.
Young Fash. Why then, my dear little Bedfellow, if you'll call her hither, we'll try to persuade her presently.
Young Fash. Well then, my dear little Bedfellow, if you can bring her here, we’ll try to convince her right away.
Miss. O Lord, I can tell you a way how to persuade her to any thing.
Miss. Oh Lord, I can show you how to convince her to do anything.
Young Fash. How's that?
Young Fash. How's it going?
Miss. Why tell her she's a wholesome, comely Woman——and give her Half a Crown.
Miss. Why tell her she's a genuine, attractive woman—and give her a couple of coins?
Young Fash. Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of 'em.
Young Fash. No, if that works, she can have ten of them.
Miss. O Gemini, for half that she'd marry you herself: I'll run and call her.
Miss. Oh Gemini, for half of that she’d marry you herself: I’ll go and get her.
[Exit Miss.
[Exit Ms..
Young Fashion solus.
Young Fashion only.
So, Matters go swimmingly; this is a rare Girl, i'faith; I shall have a fine time of it with her at London. I'm much mistaken if she don't prove a March Hare all the Year round. What a scampering Chace will she make on't, when me finds the whole Kennel of Beaux at her Tail! Hey to the Park and the Play, and the Church, and the Devil; she'll shew them sport, I'll warrant 'em. But no matter, she brings an Estate will afford me a separate Maintenance.
So, things are going great; she's a rare girl, really. I'm sure I'll have a fantastic time with her in London. I’d be surprised if she doesn't act like a March Hare all year round. Just imagine the chaotic chase she'll create with all the guys following her around! Off to the Park, the play, the church, and who knows where else; she'll show them a good time, I bet. But that doesn't matter; she comes with enough money to give me my own support.
Enter Miss and Nurse.
Enter Miss and Nurse.
Young Fash. How do you do, good Mistress Nurse? I desir'd your young Lady would give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your extraordinary Care and Conduct in her Education; pray accept of this small Acknowledgement for it at present, and depend upon my farther Kindness, when I shall be that happy thing her Husband.
Young Fash. How are you, good Mistress Nurse? I wanted your young lady to let me see you so I could thank you for your amazing care and guidance in her education; please accept this small gesture of gratitude for now, and count on my continued kindness when I become the lucky man who gets to call her my wife.
Nurse. [Aside.] Gold by mackins! Your Honour's Goodness is too great: alas! all I can boast of is, I gave her poor good Milk, and so your Honour wou'd have said, an you had seen how the poor thing suck't it——Eh, God's blessing on the sweet Face on't! how it us'd to hang at this poor Teat, and suck and squeeze, and kick and sprawl it wou'd, till the Belly on't was so full, it wou'd drop off like a Leech.
Nurse. [Aside.] Wow, your Honor! You're too kind. Honestly, all I can say is that I gave her some good milk, and I know you would have said the same if you had seen how that poor little thing drank it. Oh, bless that sweet face! It used to latch onto this poor teat, drinking and pulling and kicking and flailing until its belly got so full it would fall off like a leech.
[Miss to Nurse, taking her angrily aside.
Miss to Nurse, pulling her aside angrily.
Pray one word with you; pr'ythee, Nurse, don't stand ripping up old Stories, to make one asham'd before one's Love: do you think such a fine proper Gentleman as he is, cares for a fiddlecome Tale of a draggle-tail'd Girl;, if you have a mind to make him have a good Opinion of a Woman, don't tell him what one did then, tell him what one can do now. [To Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse my Mismanners to whisper before you, it was only to give some orders about the Family.
Pray, let me say one thing; please, Nurse, don’t keep bringing up old stories that will embarrass me in front of my love. Do you really think such a fine, proper gentleman like him cares about a silly tale of a messy girl? If you want to help him think well of a woman, don’t tell him what someone did in the past; tell him what someone can do now. [To Young Fash.] I hope you’ll forgive my bad manners for whispering in front of you, but it was just to give some instructions about the family.
Young Fash. O every thing, Madam, is to give way to Business; besides, good Housewifery is a very commendable Quality in a young Lady.
Young Fash. Oh, everything, Madam, has to take a backseat to business; also, being good at managing a household is a very admirable quality in a young lady.
Miss. Pray, Sir, are the young Ladies good Housewives at London Town? Do they darn their own Linen?
Miss. Please, Sir, are the young ladies in London good at managing a household? Do they mend their own clothes?
Young Fash. O no, they study how to spend Money, not to save it.
Young Fash. Oh no, they focus on how to spend money, not how to save it.
Miss. I'cod, I don't know but that may be better Sport than t'other, ha, Nurse!
Miss. I don't know, but that might be better than the other one, ha, Nurse!
Young Fash. Well, you shall have your Choice when you come there.
Young Fash. Well, you’ll get to choose when you arrive.
Miss. Shall I——then by my troth I'll get there as fast as I can.
Miss. Should I——then I promise I'll get there as fast as I can.
To Nurse.] His Honour desires you'll be so kind, as to let us be marry'd to-morrow.
To Nurse.] His Honor asks if you'll be so kind as to let us get married tomorrow.
Nurse. To-morrow, my dear Madam?
Nurse. Tomorrow, my dear Madam?
Young Fash. Yes, to-morrow, sweet Nurse, privately; young Folks, you know, are impatient, and Sir Tunbelly wou'd make us stay a Week for a Wedding-Dinner. Now all things being sign'd and seal'd, and agreed, I fancy there cou'd be no great harm in practising a Scene or two of Matrimony in private, if it were only to give us the better Assurance when we come to play it in publick.
Young Fash. Yes, tomorrow, dear Nurse, just us; young people are eager, and Sir Tunbelly would make us wait a week for a wedding dinner. Now that everything is signed, sealed, and settled, I think there’s no real harm in rehearsing a scene or two of marriage in private, just to give us more confidence when we perform it in public.
Nurse. Nay, I must confess stolen Pleasures are sweet; but if you shou'd be married now, what will you do when Sir Tunbelly calls for you to be wedded?
Nurse. No, I have to admit that secret pleasures are enjoyable; but if you get married now, what will you do when Sir Tunbelly asks you to marry him?
Miss. Why then we will be married again.
Miss. Then we will get married again.
Nurse. What, twice, my Child?
Nurse. What, twice, my kid?
Miss. I'cod, I don't care how often I'm married, not I.
Miss. I swear, I don't care how many times I've been married, I really don't.
Young Fash. Pray, Nurse, don't you be against your young Lady's good; for by this means she'll have the pleasure of two Wedding-Days.
Young Fash. Please, Nurse, don’t stand in the way of your young lady's happiness; this way, she'll get to enjoy two wedding days.
Miss to Nurse softly.] And of two Wedding-Nights too, Nurse.
Miss to Nurse softly.] And about two Wedding Nights too, Nurse.
Nurse. Well, I'm such a tender-hearted Fool, I find I can refuse you nothing; so you shall e'en follow your own Inventions.
Nurse. Well, I'm such a soft-hearted fool that I can't say no to you; so you can just go ahead and do your own thing.
Miss. Shall I? [Aside.] O Lord, I could leap over the Moon.
Miss. Should I? [Aside.] Oh Lord, I could jump over the Moon.
Young Fash. Dear Nurse, this Goodness of yours shan't go unrewarded; but now you must employ your Power with Mr. Bull the Chaplain, that he may do his friendly Office too, and then we shall be all happy; do you think you can prevail with him?
Young Fash. Dear Nurse, your kindness won’t go unappreciated; but now you need to use your influence with Mr. Bull the Chaplain, so he can help us out too, and then we’ll all be happy. Do you think you can convince him?
Nurse. Prevail with him——or he shall never prevail with me, I can tell him that.
Nurse. If he wins her over, then maybe he'll win me over too, but I can assure him he won't.
Miss. My Lord, she has had him upon the hip this seven Year.
Miss. My Lord, she has had him under her control for the past seven years.
Young Fash. I'm glad to hear it; however, to strengthen your Interest with him, you may let him know I have several fat Livings in my Gift, and that the first that falls shall be in your Disposal.
Young Fash. I'm happy to hear that; however, to boost your chances with him, you should let him know I have several profitable positions available, and the first one that opens up will be yours to manage.
Nurse. Nay, then I'll make him marry more Folks, than one, I'll promise him.
Nurse. No way, then I'll get him to marry more people than just one, I promise you.
Miss. Faith, do, Nurse, make him marry you too; I'm sure he'll do't for a fat Living; for he loves Eating more than he loves his Bible; and I have often heard, him say, a fat Living was the best Meat in the World.
Miss. Faith, come on, Nurse, get him to marry you too; I'm sure he'll do it for a good income because he loves eating more than he loves his Bible; and I've often heard him say that a good income is the best food in the world.
Nurse. Ay, and I'll make him commend the Sauce too, or I'll bring his Gown to a Cassock, I will so.
Nurse. Yeah, and I'll make him praise the Sauce too, or I'll turn his Gown into a Cassock, I really will.
Young Fash. Well, Nurse, whilst you go and settle Matters with him, your Lady and I will go and take a walk in the Garden.
Young Fash. Well, Nurse, while you go sort things out with him, the lady and I will take a walk in the garden.
Nurse. I'll do your Honour's Business in the catching up of a Garter.
Nurse. I'll take care of your business with getting a Garter.
[Exit Nurse.
[Exit Nurse.
Young Fash. [Giving her his Hand.] Come, Madam, dare you venture yourself alone with me?
Young Fash. [Offering her his hand.] Come on, Madam, do you dare to be alone with me?
Miss. O dear, yes, Sir; I don't think you'll do any thing to me I need be afraid on.
Miss. Oh dear, yes, sir; I don't think you'll do anything to me that I need to be afraid of.
Enter Amanda and Berinthia.
Enter Amanda and Berinthia.
The Charming Cynthia cried;[Pg 68] Pay attention, because Love has sharp arrows,
A wounded lover replied. Once you were free and blessed just like you are now,
I played with his charms; *I pointed at his little bow,* And showed off his arms; Until pushed too far, he cries for revenge, A destined arrow he drew; It passed through your eyes,
And it flew to my heart.
And to make the wound worse.
Ah! I'm afraid you know all too well. What pain I have to endure, Since what your eyes alone could do,
Your heart can heal. And That (I hope I'm wrong)
A burden for someone else, Who poorly rewards its Care.
Aman. Well, now, Berinthia, I'm at leisure to hear what 'twas you had to say to me.
Aman. Well, now, Berinthia, I’m free to hear what you wanted to tell me.
Ber. What I had to say, was only to echo the Sighs and Groans of a dying Lover.
Ber. What I needed to say was just to reflect the sighs and groans of a dying lover.
Aman. Phu, will you never learn to talk in earnest of any thing?
Aman. Phu, will you ever learn to talk seriously about anything?
Ber. Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only tell you Matter of Fact—you may take it which way you like best; but if you'll follow the Women of the Town, you'll take it both ways; for when a Man offers himself to one of them, first she takes him in jest, and then she takes him in earnest.
Ber. This will be serious, if you don’t mind; as for me, I'm just stating facts—you can interpret it however you want; but if you follow the women in the city, you'll see it both ways; because when a guy approaches one of them, at first she plays along, and then she gets serious.
Aman. I'm sure there's so much jest and earnest in what you say to me, I scarce know how to take it; but I think you have bewitched me, for I don't find it possible to be angry with you, say what you will.
Aman. I’m sure there’s a mix of joking and seriousness in what you’re saying to me, and I hardly know how to react; but I think you’ve enchanted me, because I just can’t get mad at you, no matter what you say.
Ber. I'm very glad to hear it, for I have no mind to quarrel with you, for some Reasons that I'll not brag of;[Pg 69] but quarrel or not, smile or frown, I must tell you what I have suffer'd upon your account.
Ber. I'm really happy to hear that, because I don't want to fight with you for some reasons I won't flaunt; [Pg 69] but whether we argue or not, whether we smile or frown, I need to tell you what I've gone through because of you.
Aman. Upon my account!
Aman. Seriously!
Ber. Yes, upon yours; I have been forc'd to sit still and hear you commended for two Hours together, without one Compliment to myself; now don't you think a Woman has a blessed time of that?
Ber. Yes, on your account; I’ve had to sit here and listen to you being praised for two hours straight, without a single compliment for myself. Don’t you think that’s a lovely situation for a woman?
Aman. Alas! I shou'd have been unconcern'd at it; I never knew where the Pleasure lay of being prais'd by the Men: but pray who was this that commended me so?
Aman. Unfortunately! I should have been indifferent about it; I never understood the joy of being praised by men: but please, who was it that complimented me so?
Ber. One you have a mortal Aversion to—Mr. Worthy: he us'd you like a Text, he took you all to pieces, but spoke so learnedly upon every Point, one might see the Spirit of the Church was in him: if you are a Woman, you'd have been in an Extasy to have heard how feelingly he handled your Hair, your Eyes, your Nose, your Mouth, your Teeth, your Tongue, your Chin, your Neck, and so forth. Thus he preach'd for an Hour; but when he came to use an Application, he observ'd that all these, without a Gallant, were nothing—Now consider of what has been said, and Heaven give you Grace to put it in practice!
Ber. One you really can't stand—Mr. Worthy: he treated you like a subject for study, dissecting you completely, yet spoke so knowledgeably about every detail that you could tell the spirit of the Church was in him. If you were a woman, you would have been in ecstasy listening to how passionately he described your Hair, your Eyes, your Nose, your Mouth, your Teeth, your Tongue, your Chin, your Neck, and so on. He preached for an hour, but when he got to the application, he noted that all these attributes, without a suitor, meant nothing—Now think about what has been said, and may Heaven give you the grace to put it into practice!
Aman. Alas! Berinthia, did I incline to a Gallant, (which you know I do not) do you think a Man so nice as he, cou'd have the least concern for such a plain unpolish'd thing as I am? It is impossible!
Aman. Oh no! Berinthia, if I were to pursue a gentleman, (which you know I'm not) do you really think a guy as particular as he would be the least bit interested in someone as simple and unrefined as I am? It's just not possible!
Ber. Now have you a great mind to put me upon commending you.
Ber. So, are you really expecting me to praise you?
Aman. Indeed that was not my Design.
Aman. That was definitely not my intention.
Ber. Nay, if it were, it's all one, for I won't do't, I'll leave that to your Looking-glass. But to shew you I have some Good-nature left, I'll commend him, and may be that may do as well.
Ber. No, if it were, it wouldn't matter because I'm not going to do it. I'll leave that to your mirror. But to show you I still have some kindness left, I'll praise him, and maybe that will be good enough.
Aman. You have a great mind to persuade me I am in love with him.
Aman. You've got a real talent for convincing me that I'm in love with him.
Ber. I have a great mind to persuade you, you don't know what you are in love with.
Ber. I'm really tempted to convince you that you don't even know what you're in love with.
Aman. I am sure I am not in love with him, nor never shall be; so let that pass: but you were saying something you wou'd commend him for.
Aman. I'm pretty sure I'm not in love with him, and I never will be; so let's move on from that. But you were saying something nice about him.
Ber. O, you'd be glad to hear a good Character of him, however.
Ber. Oh, you'd be happy to hear something good about him, though.
Aman. Psha.
Aman. Psha.
Ber. Psha——Well, 'tis a foolish Undertaking for Women in these kind of Matters, to pretend to deceive one another——Have not I been bred a Woman as well as you?
Ber. Psha——Well, it's a silly thing for women in these situations to try to fool each other——Haven't I been raised as a woman just like you?
Aman. What then?
Aman. What's next?
Ber. Why then I understand my Trade so well, that whenever I am told of a Man I like, I cry, Psha! But that I may spare you the pains of putting me a second time in mind to commend him, I'll proceed, and give you this account of him: That tho' 'tis possible he may have had Women with as good Faces as your Ladyship's, (no Discredit to it neither) yet you must know your cautious Behaviour, with that Reserve in your Humour, has given him his Death's Wound; he mortally hates a Coquette; he says 'tis impossible to love where he cannot esteem; and that no Woman can be esteemed by a Man who has Sense, if she makes herself cheap in the Eye of a Fool. That Pride to a Woman, is as necessary as Humility to a Divine; and that far-fetch'd, and dear bought, is Meat for Gentlemen, as well as for Ladies——In short, that every Woman who has Beauty may set a price upon herself, and that by under-selling the Market they ruin the Trade. This is his Doctrine, how do you like it?
Ber. Well, I know my stuff so well that whenever I hear about a guy I like, I just roll my eyes. But to save you from having to remind me to praise him again, I'll go ahead and give you this rundown: Even though he might have been with women who are as attractive as you are (which is no slight to you), you should know that your careful approach and reserved attitude have dealt him a serious blow; he strongly dislikes a flirt. He believes it's impossible to love someone if he can’t respect them, and that no woman can earn a man's respect if she lowers herself in the eyes of a fool. He thinks that pride is just as important for a woman as humility is for a religious figure, and that food that is hard to get and expensive is meant for gentlemen as well as for ladies. In short, he believes that every woman with beauty can set her own worth, and by selling herself short, they ruin their value. What do you think of this idea?
Aman. So well that, since I never intend to have a Gallant for myself, if I were to recommend one to a Friend, he shou'd be the Man.
Aman. He's such a great guy that, since I never plan to have a boyfriend for myself, if I were to suggest one to a friend, he would be the guy.
Enter Worthy.
Join Worthy.
Bless me, he's here! pray Heaven he did not hear me!
Bless me, he's here! I hope to God he didn't hear me!
Ber. If he did, it won't hurt your Reputation; your Thoughts are as safe in his Heart as in your own.
Ber. If he did, it won't hurt your reputation; your thoughts are as safe in his heart as in your own.
Wor. I venture in at an unseasonable time of Night, Ladies; I hope if I am troublesome, you'll use the same freedom in turning me out again.
Wor. I come in at an awkward time of night, ladies; I hope if I'm being a bother, you'll feel free to kick me out again.
Aman. I believe it can't be late, for Mr. Loveless is not come home yet, and he usually keeps good Hours.
Aman. I don't think it's late because Mr. Loveless hasn't come home yet, and he usually comes home at a decent time.
Wor. Madam, I'm afraid he'll transgress a little to[Pg 71]-night; for he told me about half an Hour ago, he was going to sup with some Company, he doubted would keep him out till three or four o'clock in the Morning, and desir'd I would let my Servant acquaint you with it, that you might not expect him: But my Fellow's a Blunder-head; so, lest he should make some mistake, I thought it my Duty to deliver the Message myself.
Wor. Madam, I'm sorry, but I think he'll be out a bit late to[Pg 71]night; he mentioned about half an hour ago that he was going to have dinner with some friends and was worried he might be out until three or four in the morning. He asked me to have my servant let you know, so you wouldn't expect him. But my guy is a bit of an idiot, so I decided it was best to deliver the message myself.
Aman. I'm very sorry he shou'd give you that trouble, Sir: But——
Aman. I'm really sorry he caused you that trouble, Sir: But——
Ber. But since he has, will you give me leave, Madam, to keep him to play at Ombre with us?
Ber. But since he has, will you let me, Madam, keep him to play Ombre with us?
Aman. Cousin, you know you command my House.
Aman. Cousin, you know you lead my family.
Wor. to Ber.] And, Madam, you know you command me, tho' I'm a very wretched Gamester.
Wor. to Ber.] And, Ma'am, you know you have control over me, even though I'm a pretty terrible gambler.
Ber. O you play well enough to lose your Money, and that's all the Ladies require; so without any more Ceremony, let us go into the next Room and call for the Cards.
Ber. You play well enough to lose your money, and that's all the ladies care about; so without any more fuss, let's head into the next room and ask for the cards.
Aman. With all my heart.
Aman. With all my love.
[Exit Wor. leading Aman.
Exit Wor. leading Aman.
Ber. sola. Well, how this Business will end, Heaven knows; but she seems to me to be in as fair a way——as a Boy is to be a Rogue, when he's put Clerk to an Attorney.
Ber. sola. Well, how this situation will turn out, only God knows; but she seems to me to be in just as good a position——as a boy is to become a troublemaker when he’s made an intern at a law firm.
[Exit Berinthia.
Exit Berinthia.
SCENE, Berinthia's Chamber.
Enter Loveless cautiously in the dark.
Enter Loveless carefully in the dark.
Lov. So, thus for all's well. I'm got into her Bed-Chamber, and I think nobody has perceiv'd me steal into the House; my Wife don't expect me home till four o'Clock; so if Berinthia comes to Bed by eleven, I shall have a Chace of five Hours. Let me see, where shall I hide myself? Under her Bed? No; we shall have her Maid searching there for something or other; her Closet's a better place, and I have a Master-Key will open it: I'll e'en in there, and attack her just when she[Pg 72] comes to her Prayers, that's the most like to prove her critical Minute; for then the Devil will be there to assist me.
Lov. So, everything's good. I've made it into her bedroom, and I don't think anyone noticed me sneak into the house; my wife doesn’t expect me back until four o'clock. So if Berinthia comes to bed by eleven, I’ll have a good five hours. Let me think, where should I hide? Under her bed? No; her maid will probably be looking around for something there. Her closet is a better spot, and I have a master key that will unlock it. I’ll just go in there and catch her right when she starts her prayers; that’s likely to be her most vulnerable moment, and the Devil will be there to help me.
[He opens the Closet, goes in, and shuts the door after him.
[He opens the closet, steps inside, and shuts the door behind him.]
Enter Berinthia with a Candle in her hand.
Enter Berinthia with a candle.
Ber. Well, sure I am the best-natur'd Woman in the World. I that love Cards so well (there is but one thing upon the Earth I love better) have pretended Letters to write, to give my Friends a Tête-à-Tête; however, I'm innocent, for Picquet is the Game I set 'em to: at her own peril be it, if she ventures to play with him at any other. But now what shall I do with myself? I don't know how in the World to pass my time; wou'd Loveless were here to badiner a little! Well, he's a charming Fellow, I don't wonder his Wife's so fond of him. What if I shou'd set down and think of him till I fall asleep, and dream of the Lord knows what? O, but then if I shou'd dream we were married, I shou'd be frighted out of my Wits. [Seeing a Book.] What's this Book? I think I had best go read. O Splenetique! 'tis a Sermon. Well, I'll go into my Closet, and read the Plotting Sisters. [She opens the Closet, sees Loveless, and shrieks out.] O Lord, a Ghost, a Ghost, a Ghost, a Ghost!
Ber. Well, I’m definitely the most good-natured woman in the world. I love cards so much (there’s only one thing on Earth I love more) that I’ve pretended to write letters just to spend some one-on-one time with my friends; however, I’m innocent because Picquet is the game I make them play: it’s at her own risk if she chooses to play with him at anything else. But what should I do with myself now? I don’t know how in the world to spend my time; I wish Loveless were here to joke around with a little! Well, he’s a charming guy, and I can see why his wife is so fond of him. What if I just sit down and think about him until I fall asleep and end up dreaming who knows what? Oh, but if I dream we’re married, I’d be scared out of my wits. [Seeing a Book.] What’s this book? I guess I should go read. O Splenetique! It’s a sermon. Well, I’ll go into my closet and read the Plotting Sisters. [She opens the Closet, sees Heartbroken, and shrieks out.] Oh my gosh, a ghost, a ghost, a ghost, a ghost!
Enter Loveless running to her.
Enter Loveless running towards her.
Lov. Peace, my Dear; it's no Ghost, take it in your Arms, you'll find 'tis worth a hundred of 'em.
Lov. Chill, my dear; it's not a ghost, just hold it in your arms, you'll see it's worth a hundred of them.
Ber. Run in again; here's somebody coming.
Ber. Run back in; someone is coming.
Enter Maid.
Enter the maid.
Maid. O Lord, Madam, what's the matter?
Maid. Oh my God, Madam, what's wrong?
Ber. O Heav'ns! I'm almost frighted out of my Wits. I thought verily I had seen a Ghost, and 'twas nothing but the white Curtain, with a black Hood pinn'd up against it; you may be gone again, I am the fearfullest Fool.—
Ber. Oh heavens! I'm nearly scared out of my mind. I really thought I saw a ghost, but it was just the white curtain with a black hood pinned to it; you can go now, I'm the biggest scaredy-cat.
[Exit Maid.
[Leave Maid.
Re-enter Loveless.
Re-enter Loveless.
Lov. Is the Coast clear?
Is the coast clear?
Ber. The Coast clear! I suppose you are clear, you'd never play such a Trick as this else.
Ber. The coast is clear! I guess you're good to go; you wouldn't pull a stunt like this otherwise.
Lov. I am very well pleas'd with my Trick thus far, and shall be so till I have play'd it out, if it ben't your Fault: where's my Wife?
Lov. I'm really happy with my trick so far, and I'll stay that way until I've finished it, unless it’s your fault. Where’s my wife?
Ber. At Cards.
Ber. Playing Cards.
Lov. With whom?
Love. With who?
Ber. With Worthy.
Ber. With Worthy.
Lov. Then we are safe enough.
Lov. Then we're safe enough.
Ber. You are so! Some Husbands wou'd be of another mind, if he were at Cards with their Wives.
Ber. You are! Some husbands would think differently if they were playing cards with their wives.
Lov. And they'd be in the right on't too. But I dare trust mine:——Besides, I know he's in love in another place, and he's not one of those who court half a dozen at a time.
Lov. And they'd be right about that too. But I trust my instincts:——Plus, I know he's in love with someone else, and he's not the type to flirt with multiple people at once.
Ber. Nay, the truth on't is, you'd pity him if you saw how uneasy he is at being engag'd with us; but 'twas my Malice. I fancy'd he was to meet his Mistress some where else, so did it to have the pleasure of seeing him fret.
Ber. No, the truth is, you’d feel sorry for him if you saw how uncomfortable he is being involved with us; but it was my intention to be cruel. I thought he was going to meet his girlfriend somewhere else, so I did this just to enjoy watching him worry.
Lov. What says Amanda to my staying abroad so late?
Lov. What does Amanda think about me staying overseas for so long?
Ber. Why she's as much out of Humour as he, I believe they wish one another at the Devil.
Ber. She's just as irritated as he is; I think they both wish the other would just go to hell.
Lov. Then I'm afraid they'll quarrel at Play, and soon throw up the Cards: [Offering in pull her into her Closet.] Therefore, my dear charming Angel, let us make good use of our time.
Lov. Then I'm worried they'll argue during the game and quickly give up. [Offering to pull her into her room.] So, my dear charming Angel, let's make the most of our time.
Ber. Heavens! what do you mean?
Heavens! What do you mean?
Lov. Pray what do you think I mean?
Lov. What do you think I mean?
Ber. I don't know.
I have no idea.
Lov. I'll shew you.
Lov. I'll show you.
Ber. You may as well tell me.
Ber. You might as well just tell me.
Lov. No, that wou'd make you blush worse than t'other.
Lov. No, that would make you blush even more than the other.
Ber. Why, do you intend to make me blush?
Ber. Are you trying to make me blush?
Lov. Faith, I can't tell that; but if I do, it shall be in the dark.
Lov. Honestly, I can’t say for sure; but if I do, it will be in the dark.
[Pulling her.
[Pulling her in.
Ber. O Heavens! I wou'd not be in the dark with you for all the World.
Ber. Oh my gosh! I wouldn't want to be in the dark with you for anything.
Lov. I'll try that.
Love. I'll give that a go.
[Puts out the Candles.
Extinguishes the candles.
Ber. O Lord! are you mad! What shall I do for Light?
Ber. Oh Lord! Are you crazy? What am I supposed to do for light?
Lov. You'll do as well without it.
Lov. You’ll be just fine without it.
Ber. Why, one can't find a Chair to sit down?
Ber. Why can't anyone find a chair to sit in?
Lov. Come into the Closet, Madam, there's Moonshine upon the Couch.
Lov. Come into the room, Madam, there's moonlight on the couch.
Ber. Nay, never pull, for I will not go.
Ber. No, don't pull, because I won't go.
Lov. Then you must be carried.
Love. Then you must be supported.
[Carrying her.
[Holding her.
Ber. Help, help, I'm ravish'd, ruin'd, undone. O Lord, I shall never be able to bear it.
Ber. Help, help, I’m violated, ruined, destroyed. Oh God, I’ll never be able to handle this.
[Very softly.
Very quietly.
SCENE, Sir Tunbelly's House.
Enter Miss Hoyden, Nurse, Young Fashion, and Bull.
Enter Miss Hoyden, Nurse, Young Fashion, and Bull.
Young Fash. This quick dispatch of yours, Mr. Bull, I take so kindly, it shall give you a claim to my Favour as long as I live, I do assure you.
Young Fash. I really appreciate your quick message, Mr. Bull. This will earn you my favor for as long as I’m alive, I promise you.
Miss. And to mine too, I promise you.
Miss. And to mine as well, I promise you.
Bull. I most humbly thank your Honours; and I hope, since it has been my Lot to join you in the holy Bands of Wedlock, you will so well cultivate the Soil which I have crav'd a Blessing on, that your Children may swarm about you like Bees about a Honey-Comb.
Bull. I sincerely thank you all, and I hope that since I've had the chance to join you in marriage, you will nurture the life I've wished for you so well that your children will surround you like bees around a honeycomb.
Miss. I'cod with all my Heart, the more the merrier, I say; ha, Nurse.
Miss. I completely agree, the more, the better, I say; ha, Nurse.
Enter Lory, taking his Master hastily aside.
Enter Lori, quickly pulling his Master aside.
Lo. One Word with you, for Heaven's sake.
Hey. One word with you, for heaven's sake.
Young Fash. What the Devil's the matter?
Young Fash. What on earth is going on?
Lo. Sir, your Fortune's ruin'd, and I don't think your Life's worth a quarter of an Hour's Purchase: Yonder's your Brother arriv'd with two Coaches and six Horses, twenty Footmen and Pages, a Coat worth fourscore Pound, and a Perriwig down to his Knees: So judge what will become of your Lady's Heart.
Look. Sir, your luck is gone, and I don’t think your life is worth more than fifteen minutes. Over there is your brother, arriving with two carriages and six horses, twenty servants and pages, a coat worth eighty pounds, and a wig that goes down to his knees. So, consider what will happen to your lady’s heart.
Young Fash. Death and Furies! 'tis impossible.
Young Fash. Death and Fury! This is impossible.
Lo. Fiends and Spectres! Sir, 'tis true.
Lo. Demons and Ghosts! Sir, it’s true.
Young Fash. Is he in the House yet?
Young Fash. Is he in the House yet?
Lo. No, they are capitulating with him at the Gate; the Porter tells him, he's come to run away with Miss Hoyden, and has cock'd the Blunderbuss at him; your[Pg 75] Brother swears Gad Damme, they are a parcel of Clawns, and he had a good mind to break off the Match; but they have given the Word for Sir Tunbelly, so I doubt all will come out presently. Pray, Sir, resolve what you'll do this Moment, for I'gad they'll maul you.
Look. No, they’re giving in to him at the Gate; the Porter says he’s come to elope with Miss Hoyden, and he’s aimed a Blunderbuss at him; your [Pg 75] Brother swears, damn it, they’re a bunch of fools, and he was thinking about calling off the engagement; but they’ve put in a word for Sir Tunbelly, so I’m afraid everything will come to a head soon. Please, Sir, decide what you’ll do right now, because I swear they’ll give you a beating.
Young Fash. Stay a little. [To Miss.] My Dear, here's a troublesome Business my Man tells me of; but don't be frighten'd, we shall be too hard for the Rogue. Here's an impudent Fellow at the Gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my Name upon him, in hopes to run away with you.
Young Fash. Stay a bit. [To Miss.] My dear, there's a tricky situation my man just told me about; but don't be scared, we'll outsmart the scoundrel. There's a brazen guy at the gate (not realizing I came here incognito) who has assumed my name, hoping to make off with you.
Miss. O the Brazen-fac'd Varlet, it's well we are married, or may be we might never have been so.
Miss. Oh, the shameless scoundrel, it's a good thing we're married, or we might never have ended up like this.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I'gad, like enough: Pr'ythee, dear Doctor, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to the Gate, before I speak with him.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I swear, that's likely: Please, dear Doctor, hurry to Sir Tunbelly and stop him from heading to the Gate before I have a chance to talk to him.
Bull. I fly, my good Lord——
[Exit Bull.
[Exit Bull.
Nurse. An't please your Honour, my Lady and I had best lock ourselves up till the Danger be over.
Nurse. If it pleases you, my Lady and I should probably lock ourselves away until the danger passes.
Young Fash. Ay, by all means.
Sure, go for it.
Miss. Not so fast, I won't be lock'd up any more. I'm marry'd.
Miss. Not so fast, I'm not getting locked up anymore. I'm married.
Young Fash. Yes, pray my Dear do, till we have seiz'd this Rascal.
Young Fash. Yes, please do, my dear, until we catch this scoundrel.
Miss. Nay, if you pray me, I'll do any thing.
No. If you ask me, I'll do anything.
[Exeunt Miss and Nurse.
[Miss and Nurse exit.
Young Fash. O! here's Sir Tunbelly coming. [To Lo.] Hark you, Sirrah, things are better than you imagine; the Wedding's over.
Young Fash. Oh! Here comes Sir Tunbelly. [To Lo.] Listen, my friend, things are better than you think; the wedding is over.
Lo. The Devil it is, Sir.
No. It's the Devil, Sir.
Young Fash. Not a Word, all's safe: But Sir Tunbelly don't know it, nor must not yet; so I am resolv'd to brazen the Business out, and have the Pleasure of turning the Impostor upon his Lordship, which I believe may easily be done.
Young Fash. No words needed, everything's fine: But Sir Tunbelly doesn’t know it, and shouldn’t just yet; so I’m determined to bluff my way through this and take pleasure in exposing the fraud to his Lordship, which I think can be done quite easily.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, Chap. and Servants arm'd.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, Chap. and Servants armed.
Young Fash. Did you ever hear, Sir, of so impudent an Undertaking?
Young Fash. Have you ever heard, Sir, of such a bold move?
Sir Tun. Never, by the Mass, but we'll tickle him, I'll warrant him.
Sir Tun. I swear, we'll definitely go after him, I can guarantee that.
Young Fash. They tell me, Sir, he has a great many People with him disguis'd like Servants.
Young Fash. They tell me, Sir, he has a lot of people with him dressed up as servants.
Sir Tun. Ay, ay, Rogues enow; but I'll soon raise the Posse upon 'em.
Sir Tun. Yeah, yeah, there are plenty of rogues; but I’ll quickly gather the posse to deal with them.
Young Fash. Sir, if you'll take my Advice, we'll go a shorter way to work; I find, whoever this Spark is, he knows nothing of my being privately here; so if you pretend to receive him civilly, he'll enter without Suspicion; and as soon as he is within the Gate, we'll whip up the Drawbridge upon his Back, let fly the Blunderbuss to disperse the Crew, and so commit him to Gaol.
Young Fash. Sir, if you take my advice, we should take a quicker approach; I realize that whoever this guy is, he doesn’t know I’m secretly here. So if you act like you’re welcoming him, he’ll come in without a clue. As soon as he steps through the gate, we’ll raise the drawbridge behind him, shoot the blunderbuss to scatter his crew, and then throw him in jail.
Sir Tun. I'gad, your Lordship is an ingenious Person, and a very great General; but shall we kill any of 'em, or not?
Sir Tun. I swear, my Lord, you are a clever person and a truly great general; but are we going to kill any of them or not?
Young Fash. No, no, fire over their Heads only to fright them; I'll warrant the Regiment scours when the Colonel's a Prisoner.
Young Fash. No, no, shoot over their heads just to scare them; I bet the regiment will scatter when the Colonel's a prisoner.
Sir Tun. Then come along, my Boys, and let your Courage be great——for your Danger is but small.
Sir Tun. So come on, guys, and be bold—because your risk is pretty low.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
SCENE, The Gate.
Enter Lord Foppington and Followers.
Enter Lord Foppington and Followers.
Lord Fop. A Pax of these Bumkinly People, will they open the Gate, or do they desire I shou'd grow at their Moat-side like a Willow? [To the Porter.] Hey, Fellow—Pr'ythee do me the Favour, in as few words as thou canst find to express thyself, to tell me whether thy Master will admit me or not, that I may turn about my Coach, and be gone.
Lord Fop. A bunch of these country folks, will they open the gate, or do they want me to just stand around by their moat like a willow tree? [To the Porter.] Hey, buddy—please do me a favor and, in as few words as possible, let me know if your master will let me in or not, so I can turn my coach around and leave.
Por. Here's my Master himself now at hand, he's of Age, he'll give you his Answer.
Por. Here’s my master himself, right here. He’s of age and will give you his answer.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, and his Servants.
Enter Sir Tunbelly and his servants.
Sir Tun. My most noble Lord, I crave your pardon for making your Honour wait so long; but my Orders to my servants have been to admit no body without my Knowledge, for fear of some Attempts upon my Daughter, the Times being full of Plots and Roguery.
Sir Tun. My most honorable Lord, I apologize for making you wait so long; however, I instructed my servants not to let anyone in without my knowledge, for fear of possible threats to my daughter, as these times are full of schemes and deceit.
Lord Fop. Much Caution, I must confess, is a Sign of great Wisdom: But, stap my Vitals, I have got a Cold enough to destroy a Porter—He, hem—
Lord Fop. I have to admit, being very cautious is a sign of true wisdom. But, just my luck, I’ve caught a cold that could knock out a porter—He, hem—
Sir Tun. I am very sorry for't, indeed, my Lord; but if your Lordship please to walk in, we'll help you to some brown Sugar-Candy. My Lord, I'll shew you the way.
Sir Tun. I’m really sorry about that, my Lord; but if you’d like to come in, we’ll offer you some brown Sugar-Candy. My Lord, let me show you the way.
Lord Fop. Sir, I follow you with pleasure.
Lord Fop. Sir, I’m happy to accompany you.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
[As Lord Foppington's Servants go to follow him in, they clap the Door against La Varole.
[As Lord Fop's servants go to follow him in, they slam the door in La Varole's face.]
Servants within. Nay, hold you me there, Sir.
Servants inside. No, wait a second, sir.
La Var. Jernie, qu'est ce que veut dire ça?
La Var. Jernie, what does that mean?
Sir Tun. [Within.]——Fire, Porter.
Sir Tun. [Within.]——Fire, Porter.
Porter fires.——Have among you, my Masters.
Porter fires.——Have among you, my friends.
La Var. Ah je suis mort—
The Var. Oh, I'm dead—
[The servants all run off.
The servants all run away.
Port. Not one Soldier left, by the Mass.
Port. Not a single soldier left, for sure.
SCENE changes into a Hall.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, the Chaplain and Servants, with Lord Foppington disarm'd.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, the Chaplain and Servants, with Lord Foppington unarmed.
Sir Tun. Come, bring him along, bring him along.
Sir Tun. Come on, bring him with you, bring him with you.
Lord Fop. What the Pax do you mean, Gentlemen, is it Fair time, that you are all drunk before Dinner?
Lord Fop. What the heck do you mean, gentlemen? Is it fair time that you’re all drunk before dinner?
Sir Tun. Drunk, Sirrah! Here's an impudent Rogue for you! Drunk or Sober, Bully, I'm a Justice of the Peace, and know how to deal with Strolers.
Sir Tun. Drunk, buddy! Here’s a cheeky troublemaker for you! Whether drunk or sober, pal, I'm a Justice of the Peace, and I know how to handle troublemakers.
Lord Fop. Strolers!
Lord Fop. Strollers!
Sir Tun. Ay, Strolers; come, give an account of yourself; what's your Name? where do you live? Do you pay Scot and Lot? Are you a Williamite, or a Jacobite? Come.
Sir Tun. Hey, Strollers; come on, tell me about yourself; what's your name? Where do you live? Do you pay your taxes? Are you a Williamite or a Jacobite? Come on.
Lord Fop. And why dost thou ask me so many impertinent Questions?
Lord Fop. And why do you ask me so many rude questions?
Sir Tun. Because I'll make you answer 'em before I have done with you, you Rascal you.
Sir Tun. Because I'll make you answer them before I'm finished with you, you rascal.
Lord Fop. Before Gad, all the Answer I can make thee to 'em, is, that thou art a very extraordinary old Fellow; stap my Vitals—
Lord Fop. Honestly, the only response I have for you is that you’re a really unique old guy; I swear—
Sir Tun. Nay, if you are for joaking with Deputy-Lieutenants, we know how to deal with you: Here, draw a Warrant for him immediately.
Sir Tun. No, if you're going to joke around with Deputy-Lieutenants, we know how to handle you: Here, issue a warrant for him right away.
Lord Fop. A Warrant——what the Devil is't thou wou'dst be at, old Gentleman?
Lord Fop. A warrant—what the heck do you want, old man?
Sir Tun. I wou'd be at you, Sirrah, (if my Hands were not ty'd as a Magistrate) and with these two double Fists beat your Teeth down your Throat, you Dog you.
Sir Tun. I would be at you, man, (if my hands weren't tied as a magistrate) and with these two double fists, I'd knock your teeth down your throat, you scoundrel.
Lord Fop. And why would'st thou spoil my Face at that rate?
Lord Fop. And why would you ruin my face like that?
Sir Tun. For your Design to rob me of my Daughter, Villain.
Sir Tun. You intend to steal my daughter from me, you scoundrel.
Lord Fop. Rab thee of thy Daughter——Now I do begin to believe I am a-bed and a-sleep, and that all this is but a Dream—If it be, 'twill be an agreeable Surprize enough, to waken by and by; and instead of the impertinent Company of a nasty Country Justice, find my self perhaps in the Arms of a Woman of Quality—[To Sir Tun.] Pr'ythee, old Father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one Question?
Lord Fop. Rob me of your Daughter—Now I really start to think I'm in bed and dreaming, and that this is all just a dream—If it is, it will be quite a nice surprise to wake up later and instead of the annoying company of a rude Country Justice, find myself perhaps in the arms of a woman of high status—[To Sir Tun.] Please, old man, can I ask you one question?
Sir Tun. I can't tell whether I will or not, till I know what it is.
Sir Tun. I can't say if I will or not until I find out what it is.
Lord Fop. Why, then, it is, whether thou didst not write to my Lord Foppington to come down and marry thy Daughter?
Lord Fop. So, did you write to my Lord Foppington to come down and marry your daughter?
Sir Tun. Yes, marry did I, and my Lord Foppington is come down, and shall marry my Daughter before she's a Day older.
Sir Tun. Yes, I did get married, and my Lord Foppington has come down and will marry my daughter before she turns a day older.
Lord Fop. Now give me thy Hand, dear Dad, I thought we should understand one another at last.
Lord Fop. Now give me your hand, dear Dad, I thought we would finally understand each other.
Sir Tun. This Fellow's mad——here bind him Hand and Foot.
Sir Tun. This guy's crazy—tie him up hand and foot.
[They bind him down.
They restrain him.
Lord Fop. Nay, pr'ythee, Knight, leave fooling, thy Jest begins to grow dull.
Lord Fop. Come on, Knight, stop messing around, your joke is getting old.
Sir Tun. Bind him, I say, he's mad——Bread and Water, a dark Room, and a Whip, may bring him to his Senses again.
Sir Tun. Bind him, I say, he's crazy——Bread and Water, a dark Room, and a Whip might bring him back to his senses.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] I'gad, if I don't waken quickly, by all that I can see, this is like to prove one of the most impertinent Dreams that ever I dreamt in my Life.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] I swear, if I don't wake up soon, from what I can tell, this is going to be one of the most ridiculous dreams I've ever had in my life.
Enter Miss and Nurse. [Miss going up to him.]
Enter Miss and Nurse. [Miss approaches him.]
Miss. Is this he that wou'd have run away with me? Fough, how he stinks of sweets! Pray, Father, let him be dragg'd through the Horse-Pond.
Miss. Is this the guy who wanted to run away with me? Gross, he smells like perfume! Please, Father, have him dragged through the horse pond.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] This must be my Wife by her natural Inclination to her Husband.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] This has to be my wife, given her natural tendency towards her husband.
Miss. Pray, Father, what do you intend to do with him? hang him?
Miss. Please, Father, what are you planning to do with him? Hang him?
Sir Tun. That at least, Child.
Sir Tun. That at least, Child.
Nurse. Ay, and it's e'en too good for him too.
Nurse. Yeah, and it’s way too good for him too.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] Madame la Governante, I presume, hitherto this appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary Families that ever Man of Quality match'd into.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] Madame la Governante, I take it, this seems to me to be one of the most remarkable families that any man of high status has ever married into.
Sir Tun. What's become of my Lord, Daughter?
Sir Tun. What happened to my lord, daughter?
Miss. He's just coming, Sir.
Excuse me. He's on his way, Sir.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] My Lord——What does he mean by that now?
Lord Fop. [Aside.] My Lord——What does he mean by that now?
Enter Young Fashion and Lory.
Enter Young Fashion and Lory.
Seeing him.] Stap my Vitals, Tam, now the Dream's out.
Seeing him.] Wow, Tam, now the dream is over.
Young Fash. Is this the Fellow, Sir, that design'd to trick me of your Daughter?
Young Fash. Is this the guy, Sir, who planned to deceive me and take your daughter?
Sir Tun. This is he, my Lord, how do you like him? Is not he a pretty Fellow to get a Fortune?
Sir Tun. This is him, my Lord, what do you think? Isn't he a handsome guy to inherit a fortune?
Young Fash. I find by his Dress, he thought your Daughter might be taken with a Beau.
Young Fash. I can tell by his clothes that he thought your daughter might be interested in a guy.
Miss. O Gemini! Is this a Beau? let me see him again——ha! I find a Beau is no such ugly thing neither.
Miss. Oh Gemini! Is this a guy? Let me see him again—ha! I find a guy is not such an ugly thing after all.
Young Fash. I'gad, she'll be in love with him presently; I'll e'en have him sent away to Gaol. [To Lord Fop.] Sir, tho' your Undertaking shews you are a Person of no extraordinary Modesty, I suppose you han't Confidence enough to expect much Favour from me.
Young Fash. I swear, she'll be in love with him soon; I'll just have him sent away to jail. [To Lord Fop.] Sir, even though your actions show you're not exactly modest, I doubt you have enough confidence to expect much favor from me.
Lord Fop. Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent Fellow.
Lord Fop. I can't believe it, Tam, you are so bold.
Nurse. Look if the Varlet has not the Frontery to call his Lordship plain Thomas.
Nurse. Look to see if the guy has the nerve to call his Lordship just Thomas.
Bull. The business is, he wou'd feign himself mad, to avoid going to Gaol.
Bull. He's pretending to be crazy to avoid going to jail.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That must be the Chaplain, by his unfolding of Mysteries.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That must be the Chaplain, by his revelation of secrets.
Sir Tun. Come, is the Warrant writ?
Sir Tun. Come, is the warrant issued?
Cler. Yes, Sir.
Sure thing, Sir.
Sir Tun. Give me the Pen, I'll sign it——So now, Constable, away with him.
Sir Tun. Give me the pen, I'll sign it—So now, Constable, take him away.
Lord Fop. Hold one Moment——Pray, Gentlemen; my Lord Foppington, shall I beg one Word with your Lordship?
Lord Fop. Wait a moment—please, gentlemen; my Lord Foppington, may I have a word with you?
Nurse. O ho, it's my Lord with him now; see how Afflictions will humble Folks.
Nurse. Oh wow, it’s my Lord with him now; look how Suffering can humble people.
Miss. Pray, my Lord, don't let him whisper too close, lest he bite your Ear off.
Miss. Please, my Lord, don't let him whisper too close, or he might bite your ear off.
Lord Fop.. I am not altogether so hungry, as your Ladyship is pleased to imagine. [To Young Fash.] Look you, Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to you as I ought, but I hope you'll forget what's past, and accept of the five thousand Pounds I offer; thou may'st live in extreme Splendor with it; stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop.. I'm not quite as hungry as you think, my lady. [To Young Fash.] Listen, Tam, I realize I haven't been as nice to you as I should have, but I hope you'll let go of the past and take the five thousand pounds I'm offering; you could live in complete luxury with it; I swear on my life.
Young Fash. It's a much easier matter to prevent a Disease than to cure it; a quarter of that Sum would have secur'd your Mistress; twice as much won't redeem her.
Young Fash. It's much easier to prevent a disease than to cure it; a quarter of that amount would have saved your Mistress; twice as much won’t bring her back.
[Leaving him.
Leaving him.
Sir Tun. Well, what says he?
Sir Tun. Well, what does he say?
Young Fash. Only the Rascal offer'd me a Bribe to let him go.
Young Fash. Only the Rascal offered me a bribe to let him go.
Sir Tun. Ay, he shall go, with a Pox to him: Lead on, Constable.
Sir Tun. Yeah, he should go, with a curse on him: Go ahead, Constable.
Lord Fop.. One word more, and I've done.
Lord Fop. Just one more word, and I’m finished.
Sir Tun. Before Gad, thou art an impudent Fellow, to trouble the Court at this rate, after thou art condemned; but speak once for all.
Sir Tun. Honestly, you're pretty bold to keep bothering the Court like this after you've been condemned; just say what you need to say.
Lord Fop. Why then once for all; I have at last luckily call'd to mind, that there is a Gentleman of this Country, who I believe cannot live far from this place, if he were here, would satisfy you, I am Novelty,[Pg 81] Baron of Foppington, with five thousand Pounds a year, and that Fellow there a Rascal, not worth a Groat.
Lord Fop. So here it is; I finally remember that there's a gentleman in this country who I think lives nearby. If he were here, he would satisfy you—I am Novelty,[Pg 81] Baron of Foppington, with an income of five thousand pounds a year, and that guy over there is just a rascal, not worth a penny.
Sir Tun. Very well; now who is this honest Gentleman you are so well acquainted with. [To Young Fash.] Come, Sir, we shall hamper him.
Sir Tun. Alright; now who is this honest gentleman you know so well? [To Young Fash.] Come on, Sir, let's put him at a disadvantage.
Lord Fop. 'Tis Sir John Friendly.
Lord Fop. It's Sir John Friendly.
Sir Tun. So, he lives within half a Mile, and came down into the Country but last Night; this bold-fac'd Fellow thought he had been at London still, and so quoted him; now we shall display him in his Colours: I'll send for Sir John immediately. Here, Fellow, away presently; and desire my Neighbour he'll do me the favour to step over, upon an extraordinary Occasion; and in the mean while you had best secure this Sharper in the Gate-House.
Sir Tun. So, he lives just half a mile away, and he came down to the countryside just last night; this guy, with all his nerve, thought he was still in London, and that’s why he quoted him. Now we're going to show him for who he really is: I'm going to call Sir John right away. Hey, you there, go quickly and let my neighbor know that I'd appreciate it if he could come over for a special reason; in the meantime, you'd better keep this shady character secure in the Gate-House.
Const. An't please your Worship, he may chance to give us the Slip thence: If I were worthy to advise, I think the Dog-kennel's a surer Place.
Const. If it pleases you, Your Honor, he might manage to escape from there. If I could offer my advice, I think the dog kennel would be a safer place.
Sir Tun. With all my heart, anywhere.
Sir Tun. With all my heart, anywhere.
Lord Fop. Nay, for Heaven's sake, Sir, do me the favour to put me in a clean Room, that I mayn't daub my Clothes.
Lord Fop. No, for heaven's sake, sir, please do me a favor and put me in a clean room so I don't ruin my clothes.
Sir Tun. O when you have married my Daughter, her Estate will afford you new ones: Away with him.
Sir Tun. Oh, once you marry my daughter, her wealth will provide you with new opportunities: Get rid of him.
Lord Fop. A dirty Country Justice is a barbarous Magistrate, stap my Vitals——
Lord Fop. A filthy country judge is a cruel magistrate, damn my life——
[Exit Constable with Lord Foppington.
[Exit Officer with Lord Foppington.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I gad I must prevent this Knight's coming, or the House will grow soon too hot to hold me.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I swear I have to stop this Knight from coming, or the House will get too uncomfortable for me to stay.
To Sir Tun.] Sir, I fancy 'tis not worth while to trouble Sir John upon this impertinent Fellow's Desire: I'll send and call the Messenger back——
To Sir Tun.] Sir, I think it’s not worth bothering Sir John about this annoying person’s request: I’ll send and call the messenger back——
Sir Tun. Nay, with all my heart; for to be sure he thought he was far enough off, or the Rogue wou'd never have nam'd him.
Sir Tun. No, truly; because I’m sure he thought he was out of earshot, or the scoundrel would never have mentioned him.
Enter Servant.
Enter the Servant.
Serv. Sir, I met Sir John just lighting at the Gate; he's come to wait upon you.
Serv. Sir, I just ran into Sir John at the gate; he’s here to see you.
Sir Tun. Nay, then it happens as one cou'd wish.
Sir Tun. No, then it turns out exactly as one could hope.
Young Fash. [Aside.] The Devil it does! Lory, you see how things are, here will be a Discovery presently, and we shall have our Brains beat out: For my Brother will be sure to swear he don't know me: Therefore run into the Stable, take the two first Horses you can light on, I'll slip out at the Back-Door, and we'll away immediately.
Young Fash. [Aside.] The Devil it does! Lory, you see how things are, there’s going to be a Discovery soon, and we’re going to get in trouble: My Brother will definitely claim he doesn’t know me. So, head to the Stable, grab the first two Horses you find, I’ll sneak out the Back-Door, and we’ll leave right away.
Lo. What, and leave your Lady, Sir?
Lo. What, and leave your lady, sir?
Young Fash. There's no Danger in that, as long as I have taken possession; I shall know how to treat with them well enough, if once I am out of their reach. Away, I'll steal after thee.
Young Fash. There's no risk in that, as long as I've taken control; I'll know how to handle them just fine once I'm out of their reach. Off I go, I'll sneak after you.
[Exit Lory, his Master follows him out at one Door, as Sir John enters at t'other.
[Exit Lori, his Master follows him out one Door, as Sir John enters the other.
Enter Sir John.
Enter Sir John.
Sir Tun. Sir John, you are the welcom'st Man alive; I had just sent a Messenger to desire you'd step over, upon a very extraordinary Occasion—we are all in Arms here.
Sir Tun. Sir John, you’re the most welcome person alive; I just sent a messenger to ask you to come by for a really important reason—we’re all ready for battle here.
Sir John. How so?
Sir John. How so?
Sir Tun. Why, you must know——a sinical sort of a tawdry Fellow here (I don't know who the Devil he is, not I) hearing, I suppose, that the Match was concluded between my Lord Foppington and my Girl Hoyden, comes impudently to the Gate, and with a whole Pack of Rogues in Liveries, wou'd have pass'd upon me for his Lordship: But what does I? I comes up to him boldly at the Head of his Guards, takes him by the Throat, strikes up his Heels, binds him Hand and Foot, dispatches a Warrant, and commits him Prisoner to the Dog-kennel.
Sir Tun. Well, you should know—there's this cynical, flashy guy around here (I really don’t know who he is) who, I guess, heard that the deal was done between my Lord Foppington and my girl Hoyden. He has the nerve to swagger up to the gate with a whole crew of uniformed goons, trying to pass himself off as my Lord. But what do I do? I stride right up to him, in front of his guards, grab him by the throat, flip him over, tie him up, issue a warrant, and throw him in the dog kennel.
Sir John. So, but how do you know but this was my Lord? for I was told he set out from London the Day before me, with a very fine Retinue, and intended to come directly hither.
Sir John. So, how do you know this was my Lord? I was told he left London the day before I did, with a really impressive entourage, and planned to come straight here.
Sir Tun. Why now to shew you how many Lies People raise in that damn'd Town, he came two Nights ago Post, with only one Servant, and is now in the House with me: But you don't know the Cream of the Jest yet; this same Rogue, (that lies yonder Neck and Heels among the Hounds) thinking you were out of the Country, quotes you for his Acquaintance, and said, if you[Pg 83] were here, you'd justify him to be Lord Foppington, and I know not what.
Sir Tun. Let me tell you about the lies people spread in that cursed town. He arrived two nights ago by post, with just one servant, and is now staying with me. But you haven't heard the best part yet; this same scoundrel (who's lying there flat among the hounds) thinking you were out of town, claims to know you and said that if you[Pg 83] were here, you’d back him up as if he were Lord Foppington, and who knows what else.
Sir John. Pray will you let me see him?
Sir John. Please, will you let me see him?
Sir Tun. Ay, that you shall presently——here, fetch the Prisoner.
Sir Tun. Yeah, you will right away—here, bring in the prisoner.
[Exit Servant.
[Exit Assistant.
Sir John. I wish there ben't some Mistake in the Business, where's my Lord? I know him very well.
Sir John. I hope there isn't a mistake in this situation. Where's my lord? I know him quite well.
Sir Tun. He was here just now; see for him, Doctor, tell him Sir John is here to wait upon him.
Sir Tun. He was just here; check for him, Doctor, and let him know Sir John is here to see him.
[Ex. Chaplain.
[Chaplain.]
Sir John. I hope, Sir Tunbelly, the young Lady is not married yet.
Sir John. I hope, Sir Tunbelly, the young lady isn't married yet.
Sir Tun. No, things won't be ready this Week; but why do you say, you hope she is not married?
Sir Tun. No, things won’t be ready this week; but why do you say you hope she isn’t married?
Sir John. Some foolish Fancies only, perhaps I'm mistaken.
Sir John. Just some silly ideas, maybe I'm wrong.
Re-enter Chaplain.
Chaplain re-enters.
Bull. Sir, his Lordship is just rid out to take the Air.
Bull. Sir, his Lordship just went out for some fresh air.
Sir Tun. To take the Air! Is that his London Breeding, to go to take the Air, when Gentlemen come to visit him?
Sir Tun. To go outside and get some fresh air! Is that his London upbringing, to step out for fresh air when gentlemen come to visit him?
Sir John. 'Tis possible he might want it, he might not be well, some sudden Qualm perhaps.
Sir John. It's possible he might want it; he might not be feeling well, maybe a sudden bout of nausea or something.
Enter Constable, &c. with Lord Foppington.
Enter Constable, &c. with Lord Foppington.
Lord Fop. Stap my Vitals, I'll have Satisfaction.
Lord Fop. I swear, I'm going to get my satisfaction.
Sir John. [Running to him.] My dear Lord Foppington!
Sir John. [Running to him.] My dear Lord Foppington!
Lord Fop. Dear Friendly, thou art come in the critical Minute, strike me dumb.
Lord Fop. Dear Friendly, you arrived just in the nick of time, leaving me speechless.
Sir John. Why, I little thought to have found you in Fetters.
Sir John. I never expected to find you in chains.
Lord Fop. Why truly the World must do me the justice to confess, I do use to appear, a little more degagé: But this old Gentleman, not liking the Freedom of my Air, has been pleased to skewer down my Arms like a Rabbit.
Lord Fop. Honestly, the world has to admit that I tend to show up a bit more laid-back: But this old guy, not liking the freedom of my attitude, has decided to pin my arms down like a rabbit.
Sir Tun. Is it then possible that this shou'd be the true Lord Foppington at last?
Sir Tun. Is it possible that this is finally the real Lord Foppington?
Lord Fop. Why what do you see in his Face to make you doubt of it? Sir, without presuming to have any extraordinary Opinion of my Figure, give me leave to tell[Pg 84] you, if you had seen as many Lords as I have done, you would not think it impossible a Person of a worse Taille than mine, might be a modern Man of Quality.
Lord Fop. What do you see in his face that makes you doubt it? Look, I’m not saying I think I’m anything special, but let me tell you, if you had seen as many lords as I have, you wouldn't find it hard to believe that someone with a figure worse than mine could be a modern man of quality.
Sir Tun. Unbind him, Slaves: my Lord, I'm struck dumb, I can only beg Pardon by Signs; but if a Sacrifice will appease you, you shall have it. Here, pursue this Tartar, bring him back——Away, I say, a Dog, Oons——I'll cut off his Ears and his Tail, I'll draw out all his Teeth, pull his skin over his Head——and——what shall I do more?
Sir Tun. Unbind him, slaves: my Lord, I'm speechless, I can only apologize with gestures; but if a sacrifice will satisfy you, you shall have it. Here, go after this Tartar, bring him back——Go on, I say, a dog, damn it——I'll cut off his ears and his tail, I'll pull out all his teeth, skin him alive——and——what else should I do?
Sir John. He does indeed deserve to be made an Example of.
Sir John. He really does deserve to be made an example of.
Lord Fop. He does deserve to be chartrè, stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. He really deserves to be chartrè, I swear on my life.
Sir Tun. May I then hope I have your Honour's Pardon?
Sir Tun. Can I hope that I have your honor's forgiveness?
Lord Fop. Sir, we Courtiers do nothing without a Bribe; that fair young Lady might do Miracles.
Lord Fop. Sir, we Courtiers don't do anything without a bribe; that beautiful young lady could work wonders.
Sir Tun. Hoyden, come hither, Hoyden.
Sir Tun. Hoyden, come here, Hoyden.
Lord Fop. Hoyden is her Name, Sir?
Lord Fop. Is her name Hoyden, Sir?
Sir Tun. Yes, my Lord.
Sir Tun. Yes, my Lord.
Lord Fop. The prettiest Name for a Song I ever heard.
Lord Fop. The cutest name for a song I've ever heard.
Sir Tun. My Lord——here's my Girl, she's yours, she has a wholesome Body, and virtuous Mind; she's a Woman complete, both in Flesh and in Spirit; she has a Bag of mill'd Crowns, as scarce as they are, and fifteen hundred a-year flitch'd fast to her Tail: so go thy ways, Hoyden.
Sir Tun. My Lord—here's my girl, she's yours. She has a healthy body and a virtuous mind; she's a complete woman, both physically and spiritually. She has a bag of rare coins, and a steady income of fifteen hundred a year attached to her. So off you go, Hoyden.
Lord Fop. Sir, I do receive her like a Gentleman.
Lord Fop. Sir, I do greet her like a gentleman.
Sir Tun. Then I'm a happy Man, I bless Heaven, and if your Lordship will give me leave, I will, like a good Christian at Christmas, be very drunk by way of Thanksgiving. Come, my noble Peer, I believe Dinner's ready; if your Honour pleases to follow me, I'll lead you on to the Attack of a Venison Pasty.
Sir Tun. Then I'm a happy man, I thank heaven, and if you’ll allow me, I’ll celebrate like a good Christian at Christmas by getting very drunk as a way of giving thanks. Come on, my noble friend, I think dinner's ready; if you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you to the feast of a venison pasty.
[Exit Sir Tun.
[Exit Sir Tun.
Lord Fop. Sir, I wait upon you: Will your Ladyship do me the favour of your little Finger, Madam?
Lord Fop. Sir, I'm here to see you: Would you be so kind as to let me have your pinky finger, Madam?
Miss. My Lord, I'll follow you presently. I have a little Business with my Nurse.
Miss. My Lord, I'll be right with you. I just have a quick thing to discuss with my nurse.
Lord Fop. Your Ladyship's most humble Servant; come, Sir John, the Ladies have des Affaires.
Lord Fop. Your Ladyship's most humble servant; come, Sir John, the ladies have business.
[Exeunt Lord Fop. and Sir John.
[Exit Lord Fop and Sir John.]
Miss. So, Nurse, we are finely brought to bed! What shall we do now?
Miss. So, Nurse, we've finally gotten to this point! What should we do now?
Nurse. Ah, dear Miss, we are all undone! Mr. Bull, you were us'd to help a Woman to a Remedy.
Nurse. Oh, dear Miss, we are all in trouble! Mr. Bull, you used to help a woman find a solution.
[Crying.
Crying.
Bull. A lack a-day, but it's past my Skill now, I can do nothing.
Bull. What a day, but it’s beyond my ability now, I can’t do anything.
Nurse. Who wou'd have thought that ever your Invention shou'd have been drain'd so dry?
Nurse. Who would have thought that your creativity would be completely used up?
Miss. Well, I have often thought old Folks Fools, and now I'm sure they are so; I have found a way myself to secure us all.
Miss. Well, I've often thought old people are fools, and now I'm certain they are; I've found a way for us to be safe.
Nurse. Dear Lady, what's that?
Nurse. Hey Lady, what's that?
Miss. Why, if you two will be sure to hold your Tongues, and not say a word of what's past, I'll e'en marry this Lord too.
Miss. Well, if you two promise to keep quiet and not say anything about the past, I might as well marry this Lord too.
Nurse. What! two Husbands, my Dear?
Nurse. What! Two husbands, my dear?
Miss. Why you had three, good Nurse, you may hold your Tongue.
Miss. You had three, good Nurse, so you can keep quiet.
Nurse. Ay, but not all together, sweet Child.
Nurse. Yes, but not completely, sweet Child.
Miss. Psha, if you had, you'd ne'er thought much on't.
Miss. Psha, if you had, you wouldn't have thought much of it.
Nurse. O but 'tis a Sin—Sweeting.
Nurse. Oh, but it's a sin—Sweeting.
Bull. Nay, that's my business to speak to, Nurse. I do confess, to take two Husbands for the Satisfaction of the Flesh, is to commit the Sin of Exorbitancy; but to do it for the Peace of the Spirit, is no more than to be drunk by way of Physick: Besides, to prevent a Parent's Wrath, is to avoid the Sin of Disobedience; for when the Parent's angry the Child is froward. So that upon the whole Matter, I do think, tho' Miss shou'd marry again, she may be sav'd.
Bull. No, that's my point to address, Nurse. I admit that taking two husbands for personal pleasure is a major sin, but doing it for peace of mind is no different than drinking for medicinal purposes. Plus, avoiding a parent's anger helps prevent the sin of disobedience; when the parent is upset, the child tends to rebel. So, overall, I believe that even if Miss gets married again, she can still be saved.
Miss. I'cod, and I will marry again then, and so there is an end of the Story.
Miss. I’m done, and I will marry again then, and that’s the end of the story.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
ACT V. SCENE London.
Enter Coupler, Young Fashion, and Lory.
Introducing Coupler, Young Fashion, and Lory.
Coup. Well, and so Sir John coming in—
Young Fash. And so Sir John coming in, I thought it might be Manners in me to go out, which I did, and getting on Horseback as fast as I cou'd, rid away as if the Devil had been at the Rear of me; what has happen'd since, Heav'n knows.
Young Fash. So when Sir John walked in, I thought it would be polite of me to leave, which I did. I got on my horse as quickly as I could and rode away as if the Devil were right behind me; what’s happened since, only Heaven knows.
Coup. I'gad, Sirrah, I know as well as Heaven.
Coup. I swear, man, I know just as well as God.
Young Fash. What do you know?
Young Fash. What do you know?
Coup. That you are a Cuckold.
Coup. You're a cuckold.
Young Fash. The Devil I am! By who?
Young Fash. I'm the Devil! By whom?
Coup. By your Brother.
Coup. By your Brother.
Young Fash. My Brother! which way?
Young Fash. My Brother! Which way?
Coup. The old way, he has lain with your Wife.
Coup. The old way, he has slept with your wife.
Young Fash. Hell and Furies, what dost thou mean?
Young Fash. Hell and Furies, what do you mean?
Coup. I mean plainly, I speak no Parable.
Coup. I'm saying it straight; I'm not using any metaphors.
Young Fash. Plainly! Thou dost not speak common Sense, I cannot understand one Word thou sayst.
Young Fash. Clearly! You don't make any sense; I can't understand a word you're saying.
Coup. You will do soon, Youngster. In short, you left your Wife a Widow, and she married again.
Coup. You’ll do it soon, Youngster. In short, you left your wife a widow, and she remarried.
Young Fash. It's a Lye.
Young Fash. It's a lie.
Coup.——I'cod, if I were a young Fellow, I'd break your Head, Sirrah.
Coup.——I swear, if I were a young guy, I'd smash your head, you jerk.
Young Fash. Dear Dad, don't be angry, for I'm as mad as Tom of Bedlam.
Young Fash. Dear Dad, please don’t be upset, because I’m just as crazy as Tom of Bedlam.
Coup. When I had fitted you with a Wife, you shou'd have kept her.
Coup. When I set you up with a wife, you should have kept her.
Young Fash. But is it possible the young Strumpet cou'd play such a Trick?
Young Fash. But is it possible that the young floozy could pull off such a trick?
Coup. A young Strumpet, Sir——can play twenty Tricks.
Coup. A young flirt, sir—can pull off twenty tricks.
Young Fash. But pr'ythee instruct me a little farther; whence comes thy Intelligence!
Young Fash. But please tell me a bit more; where does your information come from?
Coup. From your Brother, in this Letter; there, you may read it.
Coup. In this letter from your brother, you can read it there.
[Young Fashion reads.
Young Fashion reads.
Dear Coupler,
Dear Coupler,
[Pulling off his Hat,] I Have only time to tell thee in three Lines, or thereabouts, that here has been the Devil! That Rascal Tam, having stole the Letter thou hadst formerly writ for me to bring to Sir Tunbelly, form'd a damnable Design upon my Mistress, and was in a fair way of Success when I arriv'd. But after having suffer'd some Indignities (in which I have all daub'd my embroider'd Coat) I put him to flight. I sent out a Party of Horse after him, in hopes to have made him my Prisoner, which if I had done, I would have qualified him for the Seraglio, stap my Vitals. The Danger I have thus narrowly 'scap'd, has made me fortify myself against further Attempts, by entering immediately into an Association with the young Lady, by which we engage to stand by one another, as long as we both shall live. In short, the Papers are seal'd, and the Contract is sign'd, so the Business of the Lawyer is achevé; but I defer the divine part of the thing till I arrive at London, not being willing to consummate in any other Bed but my own.
[Pulling off his Hat,] I only have time to tell you in three lines, or so, that there has been some trouble! That rascal Tam, after stealing the letter you had previously written for me to deliver to Sir Tunbelly, was plotting something terrible against my mistress, and he was close to succeeding when I arrived. But after suffering some insults (in which I've ruined my embroidered coat), I chased him off. I sent a group of horsemen after him, hoping to capture him; if I had, I would have made him my prisoner, trust me. The danger I narrowly escaped has made me strengthen my defense against future attempts by immediately forming a partnership with the young lady, where we agree to support each other for as long as we live. In short, the papers are sealed, and the contract is signed, so the lawyer's job is completed; but I'm postponing the sacred part of it until I reach London, not wanting to complete it in any bed but my own.
Postscript,
P.S.,
'Tis possible I may be in the Tawn as soon as this Letter; for I find the Lady is so violently in love with me, I have determin'd to make her happy with all the Dispatch that is practicable, without disardering my Coach Harses.
It's possible I might be in town as soon as this letter; because I find that the lady is very much in love with me, I've decided to make her happy as quickly as I can, without neglecting my coach horses.
So, here's rare Work, I'faith!
So, here's rare work, I swear!
Lo. I'gad, Miss Hoyden has laid about her bravely.
Look. I swear, Miss Hoyden has really held her own.
Coup. I think my Country-Girl has play'd her part, as well as if she had been born and bred in St. James's Parish.
Coup. I think my Country Girl has played her part just as well as if she had been born and raised in St. James's Parish.
Young Fash.——That Rogue the Chaplain.
Young Fash.——That Rogue the Chaplain.
Lo. And then that Jade the Nurse, Sir.
Look. And then there's that Jade the Nurse, Sir.
Young Fash. And then that drunken Sot, Lory, Sir; that cou'd not keep himself sober to be a Witness to the Marriage.
Young Fash. And then that drunkard, Lory, Sir; who couldn't stay sober enough to be a witness at the wedding.
Lo. Sir——with respect——I know very few drunken Sots that do keep themselves sober.
Look. Sir—with all due respect—I know very few drunk people who manage to stay sober.
Young Fash. Hold your prating, Sirrah, or I'll break your Head; dear Coupler, what's to be done?
Young Fash. Stop your chatter, dude, or I'll knock you out; dear Coupler, what should we do?
Coup. Nothing's to be done till the Bride and Bridegroom come to Town.
Coup. Nothing can happen until the Bride and Groom arrive in Town.
Young Fash. Bride and Bridegroom! Death and Furies! I can't bear that thou shouldst call them so.
Young Fash. Bride and Groom! Death and Furies! I can't stand that you would call them that.
Coup. Why, what shall I call them, Dog and Cat?
Coup. What should I call them, Dog and Cat?
Young Fash. Not for the World, that sounds more like Man and Wife than t'other.
Young Fash. Not for the World, that sounds more like Husband and Wife than the other.
Coup. Well, if you'll hear of them in no Language, we'll leave them for the Nurse and the Chaplain.
Coup. Well, if you won’t listen to them in any language, we’ll leave them to the nurse and the chaplain.
Young Fash. The Devil and the Witch.
Young Fash. The Devil and the Witch.
Coup. When they come to Town——
Coup. When they arrive in town——
Lo. We shall have stormy Weather.
We’re going to have bad weather.
Coup. Will you hold your tongues, Gentlemen, or not?
Coup. Will you keep quiet, gentlemen, or not?
Lo. Mum.
Yo, Mom.
Coup. I say when they, come, we must find what Stuff they are made of, whether the Churchman be chiefly compos'd of the Flesh, or the Spirit; I presume the former——For as Chaplains now go, 'tis probable he eats three Pound of Beef to the reading one Chapter——This gives him carnal Desires, he wants Money, Preferment, Wine, a Whore; therefore we must invite him to Supper, give him fat Capons, Sack and Sugar, a Purse of Gold, and a Plump Sister. Let this be done, and I'll warrant thee, my Boy, he speaks Truth like an Oracle.
Coup. I say when they arrive, we need to figure out what they're made of, whether the Churchman is mostly made of Flesh or Spirit; I assume it's the former—because as Chaplains go these days, it's likely he eats three pounds of beef for every chapter he reads—this gives him carnal desires; he craves money, status, wine, and a mistress; so we should invite him to dinner, serve him rich capons, sack and sugar, a purse of gold, and a voluptuous woman. Once that's done, I guarantee you, my friend, he’ll speak the truth like an oracle.
Young Fash. Thou art a profound Statesman, I allow it; but how shall we gain the Nurse?
Young Fash. You're a brilliant statesman, I admit it; but how are we going to get the Nurse?
Coup. O never fear the Nurse, if once you have got the Priest, for the Devil always rides the Hag. Well, there's nothing more to be said of the Matter at this time, that I know of; so let us go and enquire, if there's any News of our People yet, perhaps they may be come. But let me tell you one thing by the way, Sirrah, I doubt you have been an idle Fellow; if thou hadst behav'd thyself as thou shoud'st have done, the Girl wou'd never have left thee.
Coup. Oh, don’t worry about the Nurse; once you have the Priest, the Devil will always side with the Witch. Well, I don't have anything more to add about this right now, so let’s go find out if there’s any news about our people; maybe they’ve arrived. But let me say one thing, buddy, I think you’ve been slacking off. If you had acted like you should have, the Girl would never have left you.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, Berinthia's Apartment.
Enter her Maid, passing the Stage, follow'd by Worthy.
Enter her Housekeeper, passing the Stage, followed by Valuable.
Wor. Hem, Mrs. Abigail, is your Mistress to be spoken with?
Wor. Um, Mrs. Abigail, is your boss available to talk?
Ab. By you, Sir, I believe she may.
Ab. I believe she can, sir.
Wor. Why 'tis by me I wou'd have her spoken with.
Wor. Why it's me who wants to talk to her.
Ab. I'll acquaint her, Sir.
I'll introduce her, Sir.
[Exit Ab.
[Exit Ab.
Worthy solus.
Worthy alone.
One Lift more I must persuade her to give me, and then I'm mounted. Well, a young Bawd, and a handsome one for my Money, 'tis they do the Execution; I'll never go to an old one, but when I have occasion for a Witch. Lewdness looks heavenly to a Woman, when an Angel appears in its Cause; but when a Hag is Advocate, she thinks it comes from the Devil. An old Woman has something so terrible in her Looks, that whilst she is persuading your Mistress to forget she has a Soul, she stares Hell and Damnation full in her Face.
One more time, I have to convince her to give me a lift, and then I’ll be set. A young, attractive woman is what I’m after; it’s they who really get things done. I’ll never go for an old one unless I need a Witch. Sin looks heavenly to a woman when an Angel is supporting it; but when an old hag is backing it, she thinks it's from the Devil. An old woman has such a terrifying look that while she’s trying to convince your Mistress to forget she has a Soul, she’s staring Hell and Damnation right in the face.
Enter Berinthia.
Enter Berinthia.
Ber. Well, Sir, what News bring you?
Ber. So, what news do you have for us, Sir?
Wor. No News, Madam, there's a Woman going to cuckold her Husband.
Wor. No news, ma'am, there's a woman about to cheat on her husband.
Ber. Amanda?
Ber. Amanda?
Wor. I hope so.
Wor. I hope so.
Ber. Speed her well.
Safe travels.
Wor. Ay, but there must be a more than a God-speed, or your Charity won't be worth a Farthing.
Wor. Yeah, but there has to be more than just good vibes, or your kindness won’t be worth a dime.
Ber. Why, han't I done enough already?
Ber. Why, haven't I done enough already?
Wor. Not quite.
Work. Not quite.
Ber. What's the matter?
Ber. What's wrong?
Wor. The Lady has a Scruple still which you must remove.
Wor. The Lady still has a concern that you need to address.
Ber. What's that?
Ber. What’s that?
Wor. Her Virtue——she says.
Wor. Her Virtue—she says.
Ber. And do you believe her?
Ber. So, do you trust her?
Wor. No, but I believe it's what she takes for her Virtue; it's some Relicks of lawful Love: she is not yet fully satisfy'd her Husband has got another Mistress, which unless I can convince her of, I have opened the Trenches in vain; for the Breach must be wider, before I dare storm the Town.
Wor. No, but I think it's what she considers her virtue; it's some remnants of legitimate love. She isn't completely convinced that her husband has another mistress, and unless I can prove that to her, I've dug the trenches for nothing; because the breach needs to be wider before I dare attack the town.
Ber. And so I'm to be your Engineer!
Ber. So, I’m going to be your Engineer!
Wor. I'm sure you know best how to manage the Battery.
Wor. I'm sure you know how to handle the Battery better than anyone.
Ber. What think you of springing a Mine? I have a Thought just now come into my Head, how to blow her up at once.
Ber. What do you think about setting off a mine? I just had an idea on how to blow it up all at once.
Wor. That would be a Thought, indeed!
Wor. That would really be something to think about!
Ber.——Faith, I'll do't, and thus the Execution of it shall be. We are all invited to my Lord Foppington's to-night to Supper, he's come to Town with his Bride, and maketh a Ball, with an Entertainment of Musick. Now you must know, my Undoer here, Loveless, says he must needs meet me about some private Business (I don't know what 'tis) before we go to the Company. To which end he has told his Wife one Lye, and I have told her another. But to make her amends, I'll go immediately, and tell her a solemn Truth.
Ber.——Honestly, I'll do it, and here's how it will go down. We’re all invited to my Lord Foppington's for dinner tonight since he’s come to town with his bride, and he’s throwing a ball with some music as entertainment. Now, you need to know that my downfall here, Loveless, insists he has to meet me about some private matter (I have no idea what it is) before we head to the gathering. To that end, he’s told his wife one lie, and I’ve told her another. But to make it up to her, I’ll go right away and tell her the honest truth.
Wor. What's that?
What's that?
Ber. Why, I'll tell her, that to my certain Knowledge her Husband has a Rendezvous with his Mistress this Afternoon; and that if she'll give me her Word, she will be satisfy'd with the Discovery, without making any violent Inquiry after the Woman, I'll direct her to a Place, where she shall see them meet.—Now, Friend, this I fancy may help you to a critical Minute. For home she must go again to dress. You, with your good-breeding, come to wait upon us to the Ball, find her all alone, her Spirit enflam'd against her Husband for his Treason, and her Flesh in a Heat from some Contemplations upon the Treachery, her Blood on a Fire, her Conscience in ice; a Lover to draw, and the Devil to drive——Ah, poor Amanda!
Ber. Well, I’ll tell her that I know for sure her husband is meeting his mistress this afternoon; and if she promises me that she’ll accept this information without searching for the woman, I’ll send her to a place where she can see them meet. — Now, my friend, I think this might be your perfect opportunity. She will have to go home to get ready again. You, with your charm, can come to join us at the ball, find her all alone, her feelings burning towards her husband for his betrayal, and her desire ignited by thoughts of the deceit, her emotions all stirred up, her conscience frozen; a lover to draw in, and the devil to push her——Ah, poor Amanda!
Wor. [Kneeling.] Thou Angel of Light, let me fall down and adore thee!
Wor. [Kneeling.] You Angel of Light, allow me to kneel and worship you!
Ber. Thou Minister of Darkness, get up again, for I hate to see the Devil at his Devotions.
Ber. You Minister of Darkness, rise again, for I can't stand seeing the Devil in prayer.
Wor. Well, my incomparable Berinthia——How shall I requite you——
Wor. Well, my unmatched Berinthia——How can I repay you——
Ber. O ne'er trouble yourself about that: Virtue is its own Reward: There's a Pleasure in doing good, which sufficiently pays itself. Adieu.
Ber. Don't worry about that: Virtue is its own reward. There's a pleasure in doing good that pays off on its own. Goodbye.
Wor. Farewel, thou best of Women.
Wor. Goodbye, you best of women.
[Exeunt several ways.
Exit in several directions.
Enter Amanda, meeting Berinthia.
Enter Amanda, meeting Berinthia.
Aman. Who was that went from you?
Aman. Who just ditched you?
Ber. A Friend of yours.
A friend of yours.
Aman. What does he want?
Aman. What does he want?
Ber. Something you might spare him, and be ne'er the poorer.
Ber. Something you could give him, and you wouldn't be worse off.
Aman. I can spare him nothing but my Friendship; my Love already's all dispos'd of: Tho', I confess, to one ungrateful to my Bounty.
Aman. I can offer him nothing but my friendship; my love is already given away, though I admit, to someone who's ungrateful for my generosity.
Ber. Why there's the Mystery! You have been so bountiful, you have cloy'd him. Fond Wives do by their Husbands, as barren Wives do by their Lap-Dogs; cram them with Sweetmeats till they spoil their Stomachs.
Ber. What a mystery! You've been so generous that you've overwhelmed him. Affectionate wives treat their husbands like barren wives treat their lap dogs; they spoil them with treats until they ruin their appetites.
Aman. Alas! Had you but seen how passionately fond he has been since our last Reconciliation, you wou'd have thought it were impossible he ever should have breath'd an Hour without me.
Aman. Oh! If only you had seen how deeply in love he has been since our last reconciliation, you would have thought it impossible for him to have gone even an hour without me.
Ber. Ay but there you thought wrong again, Amanda; you shou'd consider, that in Matters of Love Men's Eyes are always bigger than their Bellies. They have violent Appetites, 'tis true, but they have soon din'd.
Ber. But you thought wrong again, Amanda; you should realize that when it comes to love, guys always want more than they can handle. It's true they have intense cravings, but they get full pretty quickly.
Aman. Well; there's nothing upon Earth astonishes me more than Men's Inconstancy.
Aman. Well, nothing on Earth surprises me more than how inconsistent people are.
Ber. Now there's nothing upon Earth astonishes me less, when I consider what they and we are compos'd of. For Nature has made them Children, and us Babies. Now, Amanda, how we us'd our Babies, you may remember. We were mad to have them, as soon as we saw them; kiss'd them to pieces, as soon as we got them; then[Pg 92] pull'd off their Clothes, saw them naked, and so threw them away.
Ber. Now there's nothing on Earth that surprises me less when I think about what they and we are made of. Nature has made them Children and us Babies. Now, Amanda, you might recall how we treated our Babies. We were crazy to have them as soon as we laid eyes on them; we kissed them to bits as soon as we got them; then[Pg 92] we stripped them down, saw them naked, and just tossed them aside.
Aman. But do you think all Men are of this Temper?
Aman. But do you really think all men are like this?
Ber. All but one.
Ber. Everything except one.
Aman. Who's that?
Aman. Who's that?
Ber. Worthy.
Ber. Worthy.
Aman. Why, he's weary of his Wife too, you see.
Aman. Well, he's tired of his wife too, you know.
Ber. Ay, that's no Proof.
Yeah, that's not proof.
Aman. What can be a greater?
Aman. What could be greater?
Ber. Being weary of his Mistress.
Tired of his Mistress.
Aman. Don't you think 'twere possible he might give you that too?
Aman. Don't you think it's possible he might give you that too?
Ber. Perhaps he might, if he were my Gallant; not if he were your's.
Ber. Maybe he could, if he were my guy; but not if he were yours.
Aman. Why do you think he shou'd be more constant to me, than he wou'd to you? I'm sure I'm not so handsome.
Aman. Why do you think he should be more loyal to me than to you? I’m sure I’m not as good-looking.
Ber. Kissing goes by Favour; he likes you best.
Ber. Kissing is done by Favor; he likes you the most.
Aman. Suppose he does; That's no Demonstration he wou'd be constant to me.
Aman. Even if he does; that doesn’t prove he would stay loyal to me.
Ber. No, that I'll grant you: But there are other Reasons to expect it; for you must know after all, Amanda, the Inconstancy we commonly see in Men of Brains, does not so much proceed from the Uncertainty of their Temper, as from the Misfortunes of their Love. A Man sees, perhaps, an hundred Women he likes well enough for an Intrigue, and away; but possibly, thro' the whole Course of his Life, does not find above one, who is exactly what he could wish her: now her, 'tis a thousand to one, he never gets. Either she is not to be had at all (tho' that seldom happens, you'll say) or he wants those Opportunities that are necessary to gain her; either she likes somebody else much better than him, or uses him like a Dog, because he likes no body so well as her. Still something or other Fate claps in the way between them and the Woman they are capable of being fond of. And this makes them wander about from Mistress to Mistress, like a Pilgrim from Town to Town, who every Night must have a fresh lodging, and 's in haste to be gone in the Morning.
Ber. No, I’ll give you that: But there are other reasons to expect it; because you must understand after all, Amanda, the inconsistency we often see in intelligent men doesn’t stem so much from the unpredictability of their character, but from the troubles they face in love. A man may see, perhaps, a hundred women he finds interesting enough for a fling, and then he moves on; but throughout his life, he may only find one woman who is exactly what he wishes for. Unfortunately, the chances are slim that he ever gets her. Either she’s completely unavailable (though you might argue that doesn’t happen often) or he lacks the opportunities he needs to win her over; either she is into someone else much more than him, or she treats him poorly because he adores her more than anyone else. Still, there’s always something that fate throws in the way between him and the woman he is truly capable of loving. And this causes them to drift from one mistress to another, like a traveler moving from town to town, who must find new accommodations every night and is eager to leave in the morning.
Aman. Tis possible there may be something in what you say; but what do you infer from it, as to the Man we were talking of?
Aman. There might be some truth in what you're saying; but what do you conclude from it regarding the man we were discussing?
Ber. Why, I infer, that you being the Woman in the World the most to his Humour, 'tis not likely he would quit you for one that is less.
Ber. I guess that since you're the woman who fits him best, it's unlikely he'd leave you for someone who's not as good.
Aman. That is not to be depended upon, for you see Mr. Loveless does so.
Aman. That can't be relied on, because you see Mr. Loveless thinks so.
Ber. What does Mr. Loveless do?
What does Mr. Loveless do?
Aman. Why, he runs after something for Variety, I'm sure he does not like so well as he does me.
Aman. He's definitely chasing after something for fun; I'm sure he doesn't like it as much as he likes me.
Ber. That's more than you know, Madam.
Ber. That's more than you realize, ma'am.
Aman. No, I'm sure on't: I am not very vain, Berinthia; and yet I'll lay my Life, if I could look into his Heart, he thinks I deserve to be prefer'd to a thousand of her.
Aman. No, I'm sure not: I'm not very vain, Berinthia; and yet I’d bet my life that if I could see into his heart, he thinks I deserve to be chosen over a thousand of her.
Ber. Don't be too positive in that neither: A Million to one, but she has the same Opinion of you. What wou'd you give to see her?
Ber. Don't be too sure about that either: It's a million to one, but she thinks the same of you. What would you give to see her?
Aman. Hang her, dirty Trull; tho' I really believe she's so ugly, she'd cure me of my Jealousy.
Aman. Hang her, you filthy woman; though I actually think she’s so unattractive, she’d make me stop feeling jealous.
Ber. All the Men of Sense about Town say she's handsome.
Ber. Everyone in town who has any sense says she's attractive.
Aman. They are as often out in those things as any People.
Aman. They are just as often involved in those things as anyone else.
Ber. Then I'll give you further Proof——all the Women about Town say, she's a Fool: Now I hope you are convinc'd?
Ber. Then I'll give you more proof—everyone in town says she's a fool. Now, do you believe me?
Aman. Whate'er she be, I'm satisfy'd he does not like her well enough to bestow any thing more than a little outward Gallantry upon her.
Aman. No matter who she is, I'm sure he doesn't like her enough to give her anything more than a bit of superficial charm.
Ber. Outward Gallantry!—--[Aside.] I can't bear this. [To Aman.] Don't you think she's a Woman to be fobb'd off so. Come, I'm too much your Friend, to suffer you should be thus grossly impos'd upon, by a Man who does not deserve the least part about you, unless he knew how to set a greater Value upon it. Therefore in one word, to my certain knowledge, he is to meet her now, within a quarter of an Hour, somewhere about that Babylon of Wickedness, Whitehall. And if you'll give[Pg 94] me your Word that you'll be content with seeing her mask'd in his Hand, without pulling her Headclothes off, I'll step immediately to the Person, from whom I have my Intelligence, and send you word whereabouts you may stand to see 'em meet. My Friend and I'll watch 'em from another place, and dodge 'em to their private Lodging: But don't you offer to follow 'em, lest you do it awkwardly, and spoil all. I'll come home to you again, as soon as I have earth'd 'em, and give you an account in what corner of the House the Scene of their Lewdness lies.
Ber. Outward Gallantry!—--[Aside.] I can't stand this. [To Aman.] Don't you think she's someone who deserves better than this? Come on, I’m too much of your friend to let you be so blatantly taken advantage of by a guy who doesn’t even deserve a fraction of your attention unless he could appreciate it more. So, to put it simply, I know for sure that he’s going to meet her in about fifteen minutes somewhere in that Babylon of Wickedness, Whitehall. And if you promise me you’ll be satisfied just seeing her with him without trying to uncover her headscarf, I’ll go straight to the person who gave me this info and let you know where you can stand to watch them meet. My friend and I will keep an eye on them from a different spot and follow them to their private place. But don’t you dare try to follow them yourself, or you might mess it up. I’ll come back to you as soon as I’ve tracked them down and tell you where their little rendezvous is happening.
Aman. If you can do this, Berinthia, he's a Villain.
Aman. If you can do this, Berinthia, he's a bad guy.
Ber. I can't help that, Men will be so.
Ber. I can't help that; that's just how men are.
Aman. Well! I'll follow your Directions; for I shall never rest till I know the worst of this matter.
Aman. Alright! I'll follow your instructions; I won't rest until I know the full story of this.
Ber. Pray, go immediately, and get yourself ready then. Put on some of your Woman's Clothes, a great Scarf and a Mask, and you shall presently receive Orders. [Calls within.] Here, who's there? get me a Chair quickly.
Ber. Please, go right away and get yourself ready. Put on some of your women's clothes, a big scarf, and a mask, and you will soon receive instructions. [Calls from inside.] Hey, who's there? Bring me a chair quickly.
Serv. There are Chairs at the Door, Madam.
Serv. There are chairs at the door, ma'am.
Ber. 'Tis well, I'm coming.
Ber. Sure, I'm on my way.
Aman. But pray, Berinthia, before you go, tell me how I may know this filthy Thing, if she would be so forward (as I suppose she will) to come to the Rendezvous first; for, methinks, I would fain view her a little.
Aman. But please, Berinthia, before you leave, tell me how I can recognize this disgusting person if she happens to show up first at the meeting, which I suspect she might; because I really want to take a look at her for a bit.
Ber. Why, she's about my heighth; and very well shap'd.
Ber. Well, she's about my height and very well-shaped.
Aman. I thought she had been a little crooked?
Aman. I thought she had been a bit shady?
Ber. O no, she's as straight as I am. But we lose time, come away.
Ber. Oh no, she's just as straight as I am. But we're wasting time, let's go.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
Enter Young Fashion, meeting Lory.
Enter Young Fashion, meeting Lory.
Young Fash. Well, will the Doctor come?
Young Fash. So, is the Doctor coming?
Lo. Sir, I sent a Porter to him as you order'd me. He found him with a Pipe of Tobacco and a great Tankard of Ale, which he said he wou'd dispatch while I cou'd tell three, and be here.
Lo. Sir, I sent a delivery person to him as you instructed me. He found him with a pipe of tobacco and a big tankard of ale, which he said he would finish while I could count to three and be here.
Young Fash. He does not suspect 'twas I that sent for him?
Young Fash. He doesn’t suspect that it was me who called for him?
Lo. Not a Jot, Sir, he divines as little for himself, as he does for other Folks.
Lo. Not a bit, Sir, he understands as little for himself as he does for other people.
Young Fash. Will he bring Nurse with him?
Young Fash. Is he bringing Nurse with him?
Lo. Yes.
Sure.
Young Fash. That's well; where's Coupler?
Young Fash. That's good; where's Coupler?
Lo. He's half way up the Stairs taking Breath; he must play his Bellows a little, before he can get to the top.
Lo. He's halfway up the stairs catching his breath; he needs to play his lungs a bit before he can reach the top.
Enter Coupler.
Enter Coupler.
Young Fash. O here he is. Well, old Phthisick, the Doctor's coming.
Young Fash. Oh, here he is. Well, old Phthisick, the doctor's on his way.
Coup. Wou'd the Pox had the Doctor——I'm quite out of Wind [To Lo.] Set me a Chair, Sirrah. Ah——[Sits down.] [To Young Fash.] Why the Plague can'st not thou lodge upon the Ground-Floor?
Coup. I wish the doctor had the pox—I'm completely out of breath [To Lo.] Get me a chair, please. Ah—[Sits down.] [To Young Fash.] Why on earth can't you stay on the ground floor?
Young Fash. Because I love to lie as near Heaven as I can.
Young Fash. Because I love to get as close to Heaven as possible.
Coup. Pr'ythee let Heaven alone; ne'er affect tending that way: Thy Center's downwards.
Coup. Please leave Heaven out of this; don’t try to focus on that: Your center is downwards.
Young Fash. That's impossible. I have too much ill Luck in this World, to be damn'd in the next.
Young Fash. That's impossible. I have way too much bad luck in this world to be cursed in the next.
Coup. Thou art out in thy Logick. Thy Major is true, but thy Minor is false; for thou art the luckiest Fellow in the Universe.
Coup. You’re wrong in your reasoning. Your major premise is true, but your minor premise is false; because you are the luckiest person in the universe.
Young Fash. Make out that.
Young Fash. Pretend that.
Coup. I'll do't: Last Night the Devil ran away with the Parson of Fat-goose Living.
Coup. I'll do it: Last night the Devil made off with the Parson of Fat-goose Living.
Young Fash. If he had run away with the Parish too, what's that to me?
Young Fash. If he had run away with the Parish too, what's that to me?
Coup. I'll tell thee what it's to thee. This Living is worth five hundred Pound a-year, and the Presentation of it is thine, if thou can'st prove thyself a lawful Husband to Miss Hoyden.
Coup. I'll tell you what this means for you. This position is worth five hundred pounds a year, and the opportunity to take it is yours, if you can prove that you are a legitimate husband to Miss Hoyden.
Young Fash. Say'st thou so, my Protector! then I'gad I shall have a Brace of Evidences here presently.
Young Fash. Really, my Protector! In that case, I’ll have a couple of witnesses here soon.
Coup. The Nurse and the Doctor?
Coup. The Nurse and Doctor?
Young Fash. The same: The Devil himself won't have Interest enough to make them withstand it.
Young Fash. The same: Even the Devil himself wouldn't have enough interest to make them resist it.
Coup. That we shall see presently: Here they come.
Coup. We'll see that shortly: Here they come.
Enter Nurse and Chaplain; they start back, seeing Young Fashion.
Enter Nurse and Chaplaincy; they recoil upon seeing Youth Fashion.
Nurse. Ah Goodness, Roger, we are betray'd.
Nurse. Oh no, Roger, we've been betrayed.
Young Fash. [Laying hold on them.] Nay, nay, ne'er flinch for the matter; for I have you safe. Come to your Trials immediately; I have no time to give you Copies of your Indictment. There sits your Judge.—
Young Fash. [Laying hold on them.] No, no, don’t hesitate about this; I’ve got you covered. Let’s get to your Trials right away; I don’t have time to give you copies of your charges. Your Judge is right there.
Both kneeling. Pray, Sir, have Compassion on us.
Both kneeling. Pray, Sir, have compassion on us.
Nurse. I hope, Sir, my Years will move your Pity; I am an aged Woman.
Nurse. I hope, sir, my age will inspire your compassion; I am an old woman.
Coup. That is a moving Argument, indeed!
Coup. That's a strong argument!
Coup. [To Bull.] Are not you a rogue of Sanctity?
Coup. [To Bull.] Are you not a sanctimonious trickster?
Bull. Sir, with respect to my Function, I do wear a Gown. I hope, Sir, my Character will be consider'd; I am Heaven's Ambassador.
Bull. Sir, regarding my role, I do wear a Gown. I hope, Sir, my Character will be considered; I am Heaven's Ambassador.
Coup. Did not you marry this vigorous young Fellow to a plump young buxom Wench?
Coup. Didn’t you marry this strong young guy to a curvy young woman?
Nurse. [To Bull.] Don't confess, Roger, unless you are hard put to it, indeed?
Nurse. [To Bull.] Don't admit anything, Roger, unless you really have to, right?
Coup. Come, out with't—Now is he chewing the Cud of his Roguery, and grinding a Lye between his Teeth.
Coup. Come on, spill it—Now he’s ruminating on his deceit and chewing over a lie.
Bull. Sir,——I cannot positively say——I say, Sir——positively I cannot say——
Bull. Sir,——I can’t say for sure——I mean, Sir——I definitely can’t say——
Coup. Come, no Equivocation, no Roman Turns upon us. Consider thou stand'st upon Protestant Ground, which will slip from under thee like a Tyburn Car; for in this Country we have always ten Hangmen for one Jesuit.
Coup. Come on, no beating around the bush, no tricks. Remember, you're standing on Protestant ground, which can drop out from under you like a Tyburn cart; because in this country, we always have ten executioners for every Jesuit.
Bull. [To Young Fash.] Pray, Sir, then will you but permit me to speak one word in private with Nurse?
Bull. [To Young Fash.] Please, sir, could you let me have a moment to speak with Nurse privately?
Young Fash. Thou art always for doing something in private with Nurse.
Young Fash. You're always wanting to do something privately with Nurse.
Coup. But pray let his Betters be serv'd before him for once. I would do something in private with her myself; Lory, take care of this Reverend Gownman in the next Room a little. Retire, Priest. [Exit Lo. with Bull.]—Now, Virgin, I must put the matter home to you a little: Do you think it might not be possible to make you speak Truth?
Coup. But please, let his superiors be served before him for once. I want to have a private talk with her myself; Lory, can you keep an eye on this Reverend Gentleman in the next room for a bit? Go ahead, Priest. [Exit Lo. with Bull.]—Now, Virgin, I need to get straight to the point: Do you think it might be possible to get you to tell the truth?
Nurse. Alas! Sir, I don't know what you mean by Truth.
Nurse. Oh! Sir, I don't understand what you mean by Truth.
Coup. Nay,'tis possible thou may'st be a Stranger to it.
Coup. No, it's possible you might be a stranger to it.
Young Fash. Come, Nurse, you and I were better Friends when we saw one another last; and I still believe you are a very good Woman in the bottom. I did deceive you and your young Lady, 'tis true, but I always design'd to make a very good Husband to her, and to be a very good Friend to you. And 'tis possible in the end, she might have found herself happier and you richer, than ever my Brother will make you.
Young Fash. Come on, Nurse, we were better friends the last time we saw each other, and I still believe you’re a really good person deep down. I did mislead you and your young lady, that’s true, but I always intended to be a great husband for her and a good friend to you. In the end, it’s possible she might have been happier and you better off than what my brother will provide.
Nurse. Brother! Why is your Worship then his Lordship's Brother!
Nurse. Brother! Why are you then his Lordship's brother?
Young Fash. I am; which you should have known, if I durst have staid to have told you; but I was forc'd to take Horse a little in haste, you know.
Young Fash. I am; which you should have known, if I had the courage to stay and tell you; but I had to leave on horseback rather quickly, you know.
Nurse. You were, indeed, Sir: poor young Man, how he was bound to scaure for't. Now won't your Worship be angry, if I confess the Truth to you; when I found you were a Cheat (with respect be it spoken) I verily believ'd Miss had got some pitiful Skip-Jack Varlet or other to her Husband, or I had ne'er let her think of marrying again.
Nurse. You really were, Sir: poor young man, how he must have been anxious about it. Now, won't you be upset if I tell you the truth? When I discovered you were a fraud (if I may say so respectfully), I honestly believed Miss had gotten herself a pathetic con artist or something like that for a husband, or I would have never let her think about marrying again.
Coup. But where was your Conscience all this while, Woman? Did not that stare you in the Face with huge Saucer-eyes, and a great Horn upon the Forehead? Did not you think you should be damn'd for such a Sin? Ha!
Coup. But where was your conscience all this time, Woman? Didn’t it stare you in the face with those big saucer-like eyes and a huge horn on your forehead? Didn’t you think you’d be damned for such a sin? Ha!
Young Fash. Well said, Divinity, press that home upon her.
Young Fash. Well said, Divinity, drive that point home with her.
Nurse. Why, in good truly, Sir, I had some fearful Thoughts on't, and cou'd never be brought to consent, till Mr. Bull said it was a Peckadilla, and he'd secure my Soul for a Tythe-Pig.
Nurse. Honestly, Sir, I had some really scary thoughts about it, and I could never agree until Mr. Bull said it was a Peckadilla, and he’d make sure my soul was safe for a Tythe-Pig.
Young Fash. There was a Rogue for you.
Young Fash. There was a real troublemaker for you.
Coup. And he shall thrive accordingly: He shall have a good Living. Come, honest Nurse, I see you have Butter in your Compound; you can melt. Some Compassion you can have of this handsome young Fellow.
Coup. And he'll do well: he'll have a good life. Come on, honest Nurse, I see you have butter in your mix; you can melt it. You might have some compassion for this handsome young guy.
Nurse. I have, indeed, Sir.
Nurse. Yes, I have, Sir.
Young Fash. Why, then, I'll tell you what you shall do for me. You know what a warm Living here is fallen; and that it must be in the Disposal of him who has the Disposal of Miss. Now if you and the Doctor will agree to prove my Marriage, I'll present him to it, upon condition he makes you his Bride.
Young Fash. So, here’s what I need you to do for me. You know how difficult living here has become; it must be managed by the one who has control over Miss. If you and the Doctor agree to validate my marriage, I’ll introduce him to it, on the condition that he makes you his wife.
Nurse. Naw the Blessing of the Lord follow your good Worship both by Night and by Day! Let him be fetch'd in by the Ears; I'll soon bring his Nose to the Grindstone.
Nurse. May the Lord's blessing be upon you both night and day! Let him be grabbed by the ears; I'll quickly bring him to his senses.
Coup. [Aside.] Well said, old Whit-Leather. Hey; bring in the Prisoner there.
Coup. [Aside.] Well said, old Whit-Leather. Hey; bring in the prisoner here.
Enter Lory with Bull.
Enter Lory with Bull.
Coup. Come, advance, holy Man! Here's your Duck does not think fit to retire with you into the Chancel at this time; but she has a Proposal to make to you in the Face of the Congregation. Come, Nurse, speak for yourself; you are of Age.
Coup. Come on, holy Man! This Duck doesn’t feel like heading to the Chancel with you right now; instead, she has a proposal to make in front of the Congregation. Come on, Nurse, speak for yourself; you’re grown up now.
Nurse. Roger, are not you a wicked Man, Roger, to set your Strength against a weak Woman, and persuade her it was no Sin to conceal Miss's Nuptials? My Conscience flies in my Face for it, thou Priest of Baal; and I find by woful Experience, thy Absolution is not worth an old Cassock: therefore I am resolved to confess the Truth to the whole World, tho' I die a Beggar for it. But his Worship overflows with his Mercy, and his Bounty: He is not only pleas'd to forgive us our Sins, but designs thou sha't squat thee down in Fat-goose Living; and, which is more than all, has prevail'd with me to become the Wife of thy Bosom.
Nurse. Roger, aren’t you a wicked man, Roger, to use your strength against a weak woman and convince her that it was no sin to hide Miss's wedding? My conscience is killing me for it, you priest of Baal; and I know from bitter experience that your forgiveness isn’t worth an old cassock. So I’ve decided to tell the whole world the truth, even if it leaves me a beggar. But his Worship is overflowing with mercy and generosity: he not only forgives our sins but intends for you to settle down in Fat-goose comfort; and, more than anything else, has convinced me to become the wife of your heart.
Young Fash. All this I intend for you, Doctor. What you are to do for me, I need not tell you.
Young Fash. I’m planning all of this for you, Doctor. I don’t need to explain what you need to do for me.
Bull. Your Worship's Goodness is unspeakable: Yet there is one thing seems a Point of Conscience; and Conscience is a tender Babe. If I shou'd bind myself, for the sake of this Living, to marry Nurse, and maintain her afterwards, I doubt it might be look'd on as a kind of Simony.
Bull. Your Worship's kindness is unimaginable: Yet there is one thing that seems to be a point of conscience; and conscience is a delicate matter. If I were to bind myself, for the sake of this living, to marry Nurse, and support her afterward, I worry it might be seen as a form of Simony.
Coup. [Rising up.] If it were Sacrilege, the Living's worth it: Therefore no more Words, good Doctor: but with the [Giving Nurse to him.] Parish——here——take the Parsonage-house. 'Tis true, 'tis a little out of Repair; some Dilapidations there are to be made good; the Windows are broke, the Wainscot is warp'd, the Ceilings are peel'd, and the Walls are crack'd; but a little Glasing, Painting, White-wash, and Plaster, will make it last thy time.
Coup. [Rising up.] If it were Sacrilege, the Living's worth it: So no more words, good Doctor: but with the [Giving Nurse to him.] Parish——here——take the Parsonage house. It's true, it's a bit run-down; there are some repairs to be made; the windows are broken, the woodwork is warped, the ceilings are peeling, and the walls are cracked; but a little glazing, painting, whitewashing, and plastering will make it last your time.
Bull. Well, Sir, if it must be so, I shan't contend: What Providence orders, I submit to.
Bull. Well, Sir, if it has to be this way, I won't argue: Whatever fate decides, I accept.
Nurse. And so do I, with all Humility.
Nurse. And so do I, with all humility.
Coup. Why, that now was spoke like good People. Come, my Turtle-Doves, let us go help this poor Pigeon to his wandering Mate again: and after Institution and Induction, you shall all go a-cooing together.
Coup. Now that sounds like something good people would say. Come on, my lovebirds, let's go help this poor pigeon find his lost mate again: and after the ceremony, you all can coo together.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
Enter Amanda, in a Scarf, &c. as just returned, her Woman following her.
Enter Amanda, wearing a scarf, etc., just returning, with her attendant following her.
Aman. Pr'ythee, what care I who has been here?
Aman. Please, why should I care who has been here?
Wom. Madam, 'twas my Lady Bridle, and my Lady Tiptoe.
Wom. Ma'am, it was my Lady Bridle and my Lady Tiptoe.
Aman. My Lady Fiddle, and my Lady Faddle. What dost stand troubling me with the Visits of a parcel of impertinent Women? When they are well seam'd with the Small Pox, they won't be so fond of shewing their Faces——There are more Coquettes about this Town—
Aman. My Lady Fiddle, and my Lady Faddle. Why are you bothering me with visits from a bunch of rude women? Once they're covered in smallpox scars, they won’t be so eager to show their faces——There are more flirts in this town—
Wom. Madam, I suppose, they only came to return your Ladyship's Visit, according to the Custom of the World.
Wom. Madam, I assume they just came to return your visit, as is the custom these days.
Aman. Wou'd the World were on Fire, and you in the middle on't! Be gone: leave me.
Aman. I wish the world were on fire and you were right in the middle of it! Just go away: leave me alone.
[Exit Wom.
[Exit Woman.
Amanda sola.
Amanda alone.
Good heavens—What unpredictable stuff are men made of!
Sure, the account of their creation is false,
And it was from the Woman's Rib that they were made.[Pg 100] But why am I so angry? This poor Relapse should only make me feel contempt. It's true, the wandering adventures of his unfinished youth Had compelling reasons from the plea of nature:
Reason had loosened the reins around his neck,
And led him to unlimited Desire.
If he made a mistake, he had a Claim
I forgave him, and I treated him well. But since the Years of Manhood hold him back,
And Reason, well processed into Thought,
Has indicated the path he should take;
If he wanders now,
It would be just as weak and petty of me to forgive, As it has always been in him to offend. But wait: It's a bad cause indeed when there's nothing good to say about it.
My beauty might be in the Wain:
Maybe Sixteen has more appeal for him:
Yes, there's the Secret. But let him know,
My quiver isn't completely empty yet,
I still have darts, and I can throw them too;
They're not as straightforward, but they can still get in; I can't control my desires, but I can control my decisions. Virtue is his friend; or, through someone else's heart,
I still couldn't find a way to make him feel better.
[Going off, she meets Worthy.
Going out, she meets Worthy.
Ha! He here? Protect me, Heaven, for this looks ominous.
Ha! Is he here? Protect me, Heaven, because this looks bad.
Wor. You seem disorder'd, Madam; I hope there's no Misfortune happen'd to you?
Wor. You seem off, ma'am; I hope nothing bad has happened to you?
Aman. None that will long disorder me, I hope.
Aman. I hope there’s nothing that will disrupt me for too long.
Wor. Whate'er it be disturbs you, I wou'd to Heaven 'twere in my Power to bear the Pain, till I were able to remove the Cause.
Wor. Whatever is bothering you, I wish to Heaven I had the ability to take on the Pain until I could get rid of the Cause.
Aman. I hope ere long it will remove itself. At least, I have given it warning to be gone.
Aman. I hope it will leave soon. At least, I've warned it to go away.
Aman. Alas! 'tis in a tender Part. It can't be drawn[Pg 101] without a World of Pain: Yet out it must; for it begins to fester in my Heart.
Aman. Unfortunately, it's in a sensitive spot. It can't be removed[Pg 101] without a lot of pain: But it has to come out; it's starting to fester in my heart.
Wor. If 'tis the Sting of unrequited Love, remove it instantly: I have a Balm will quickly heal the Wound.
Wor. If it's the pain of unreturned love, get rid of it right away: I have a remedy that will quickly heal the hurt.
Aman. You'll find the Undertaking difficult: The Surgeon who already has attempted it, has much tormented me.
Aman. You'll find the task tough: The Surgeon who has already tried it has troubled me a lot.
Wor. I'll aid him with a gentler Hand—if you will give me leave.
Wor. I'll help him in a kinder way—if you let me.
Aman. How soft soe'er the Hand may be, there still is Terror in the Operation.
Aman. No matter how gentle the hand is, there's still fear in the action.
Wor. Some few Preparatives would make it easy, could I persuade you to apply 'em. Make Home Reflections, Madam, on your slighted Love: Weigh well the Strength and Beauty of your Charms: Rouse up that Spirit Women ought to bear, and slight your God, if he neglects his Angel. With Arms of Ice receive his cold Embraces, and keep your Fire for those who come in Flames. Behold a burning Lover at your Feet, his Fever raging in his Veins. See how he trembles, how he pants! See how he glows, how he consumes! Extend the Arms of Mercy to his Aid: his Zeal may give him Title to your Pity, altho' his Merit cannot claim your Love.
Wor. A few simple steps would make this easier, if only I could convince you to take them. Think about your neglected love, Madam: consider the strength and beauty of your charms. Awaken that spirit women should have, and disregard your God if he turns his back on his angel. Greet his cold embraces with icy indifference, and save your warmth for those who come with passion. Look at the burning lover at your feet, his fever raging in his veins. See how he shakes, how he struggles! See how he radiates, how he is consumed! Extend the arms of mercy to help him: his enthusiasm may earn your pity, even if he doesn't deserve your love.
Aman. Of all my feeble Sex, sure I must be the weakest, shou'd I again presume to think on Love. [Sighing.]—Alas! my Heart has been too roughly treated.
Aman. Of all my fragile gender, I must be the weakest if I dare to think about love again. [Sighing.]—Unfortunately, my heart has been too harshly dealt with.
Wor. 'Twill find the greater Bliss in softer Usage.
Wor. It will find greater happiness in gentler treatment.
Aman. But where's that Usage to be found?
Aman. But where can that Usage be found?
Wor. 'Tis here, within this faithful Breast; which if you doubt, I'll rip it up before your Eyes; lay all its Secrets open to your View; and then you'll see 'twas sound.
Wor. It's here, within this loyal heart; and if you doubt it, I'll tear it open right in front of you; reveal all its secrets for you to see; and then you'll know it's true.
Aman. With just such honest Words as these, the worst of Men deceiv'd me.
Aman. With words this honest, the worst of people deceived me.
Wor. He therefore merits all Revenge can do: his Fault is such, the Extent and Stretch of Vengeance cannot reach it. O make me but your Instrument of Jus[Pg 102]tice; you'll find me execute it with such Zeal, as shall convince you I abhor the Crime.
Wor. He truly deserves everything that revenge can bring; his wrongdoing is so great that no amount of vengeance can truly address it. Just let me be your tool of justice; you'll see me carry it out with such passion that it will prove to you how much I detest the crime.
Aman. The Rigour of an Executioner has more the Face of Cruelty than Justice: And he who puts the Cord about the Wretch's Neck, is seldom known to exceed him in his Morals.
Aman. The harshness of an executioner looks more like cruelty than justice: And the one who tightens the noose around the victim's neck is rarely known to be more ethical.
Wor. What Proof then can I give you of my Truth?
Wor. What proof can I give you of my truth?
Aman. There is on Earth but one.
Aman. There is only one on Earth.
Wor. And is that in my Power?
Wor. And can I actually do that?
Aman. It is: And one that would so thoroughly convince me, I should be apt to rate your Heart so high, I possibly might purchase't with a part of mine.
Aman. It is: And one that would so completely convince me, I might see your Heart as so valuable that I could even buy it with a piece of mine.
Wor. Then, Heav'n, thou art my Friend, and I am blest; for if 'tis in my Power, my Will I'm sure will reach it. No matter what the Terms may be, when such a Recompence is offer'd. O tell me quickly what this Proof must be! What is it will convince you of my Love?
Wor. Then, Heaven, you are my friend, and I feel fortunate; for if it's in my power, my will will surely achieve it. It doesn’t matter what the terms are when such a reward is offered. Oh, tell me quickly what this proof must be! What will convince you of my love?
Aman. I shall believe you love me as you ought, if from this Moment, you forbear to ask whatever is unfit for me to grant.——You pause upon it, Sir——I doubt on such hard Terms, a Woman's Heart is scarcely worth the having.
Aman. I will believe that you love me as you should, if from this moment, you stop asking for things that I shouldn’t have to agree to.——You hesitate, Sir——I doubt that under such tough conditions, a woman's heart is even worth having.
Wor. A Heart like yours, on any Terms is worth it; 'twas not on that I paus'd: But I was thinking [Drawing nearer to her.] whether some things there may not be, which Women cannot grant without a Blush, and yet which Men may take without Offence. [Taking her Hand.] Your Hand I fancy may be of the Number: O pardon me, if I commit a Rape upon it, [Kissing it eagerly.] and thus devour it with my Kisses!
Wor. A heart like yours is worth it, no matter the conditions; that’s not what made me hesitate. I was considering [Drawing nearer to her.] whether there are certain things that women can’t give without feeling shy, yet men can take without causing offense. [Taking her Hand.] Your hand might be one of those things. O forgive me if I invade your space, [Kissing it eagerly.] and consume it with my kisses!
Aman. O Heavens! let me go.
Aman. Oh my God! Let me go.
Wor. Never, whilst I have Strength to hold you here. [Forcing her to sit down on a Couch.] My Life, my Soul, my Goddess——O forgive me!
Wor. Never, as long as I have the strength to keep you here. [Forcing her to sit down on a Couch.] My life, my soul, my goddess—oh, please forgive me!
Aman. O whither am I going? Help, Heaven, or I am lost.
Aman. Where am I headed? Help me, Heaven, or I’m doomed.
Wor. Stand neuter, Gods, this once I do invoke you.
Wor. Stay neutral, Gods, I call on you this one time.
Aman. Then, save me, Virtue, and the Glory's thine.
Aman. Then, help me, Virtue, and the Glory is yours.
Wor. Nay, never strive.
Wor. No, don’t struggle.
Aman. I will; and conquer too. My Forces rally bravely to my Aid, [Breaking from him.] and thus I gain the Day.
Aman. I will; and I'll conquer too. My forces are bravely coming together to help me, [Breaking from him.] and that's how I’ll win the day.
Wor. Then mine as bravely double their Attack. [Seizing her again.] And thus I wrest it from you. Nay, struggle not; for all's in vain: On Death or victory; I am determin'd.
Wor. Then I will boldly match their attack. [Seizing her again.] And so I take it from you. No, don't fight it; it's all pointless: It's either death or victory; I've made up my mind.
Aman. And so am I. [Rushing from him.] Now keep your distance, or we part for ever.
Aman. And so am I. [Rushing away from him.] Now stay back, or we'll never see each other again.
Wor. [Offering again.] For Heaven's sake——
Wor. [Offering again.] For heaven's sake——
Aman. [Going.] Nay then, farewel.
Aman. [Going.] Well then, goodbye.
Wor. [Kneeling and holding by her Clothes.] O stay, and see the Magick Force of Love: Behold this raging Lion at your Feet, struck dead with Fear, and tame as Charms can make him. What must I do to be forgiven by you?
Wor. [Kneeling and holding onto her clothes.] Oh please, stay and witness the magical power of love: Look at this fierce lion at your feet, terrified and as docile as any spell could make him. What do I need to do to earn your forgiveness?
Aman. Repent, and never more offend.
Aman. Repent, and don’t offend again.
Wor. Repentance for past Crimes is just and easy; but sin no more's a Task too hard for Mortals.
Wor. Repenting for past wrongs is fair and straightforward; but stopping sinning altogether is a challenge that's too tough for humans.
Aman. Yet those who hope for Heaven, must use their best Endeavours to perform it.
Aman. But those who hope for Heaven must do their best to achieve it.
Wor. Endeavours we may use, but Flesh and Blood are got in t'other Scale; and they are pond'rous things.
Wor. We may try our best, but flesh and blood weigh heavily on the other side; and they're substantial matters.
Aman. Whate'er they are, there is a Weight in Resolution sufficient for their Balance. The Soul, I do confess, is usually so careless of its Charge, so soft, and so indulgent to Desire, it leaves the Reins in the wild Hand of Nature, who, like a Phaeton, drives the fiery Chariot, and sets the World on Flame. Yet still the Sovereignty is in the Mind, whene'er it pleases to exert its Force. Perhaps you may not think it worth your while to take such mighty pains for my Esteem; but that I leave to you.
Aman. Whatever they are, there's enough weight in determination to keep things balanced. I admit, the soul often doesn't take its responsibilities seriously, is too gentle, and gives in too easily to desires, leaving control in the wild hands of nature, which, like a Phaeton, drives the fiery chariot and sets the world ablaze. Yet, the power still lies in the mind whenever it chooses to use its strength. You may not see it as worth your effort to seek my admiration, but that's up to you.
It may be expensive: But despite all your skill, }
You'll see that we won't separate on cheaper terms. }
[Exit Amanda.
[Exit Amanda.
Worthy solus.
Worthy solo.
Sure there's Divinity about her; and she'as dispens'd some portion on't to me. For what but now was the wild Flame of Love, or (to dissect that specious Term) the vile, the gross Desires of Flesh and Blood, is in a Moment turn'd to Adoration. The coarser Appetite of Nature's gone, and 'tis, methinks, the Food of Angels I require: how long this Influence may last, Heaven knows. But in this Moment of my Purity, I cou'd on her own Terms accept her Heart. Yes, lovely Woman, I can accept it. For now 'tis doubly worth my Care. Your Charms are much increas'd, since thus adorn'd. When Truth's extorted from us, then we own the Robe of Virtue is a graceful Habit.
Sure, there's something divine about her; and she's given me a piece of it. What used to be the wild flame of love, or to break it down, the dirty, base desires of flesh, has suddenly turned into adoration. The rough cravings of nature have disappeared, and now I feel like I need the food of angels. How long this feeling will last, only heaven knows. But in this moment of my purity, I could accept her heart on her own terms. Yes, beautiful woman, I can accept it. Because now it’s even more valuable to me. Your charms have grown since you’ve been adorned this way. When truth is forced from us, we realize that the robe of virtue is a truly graceful outfit.
If they could just access the deep reserves of humanity,
They would wear it on so that That of Love might last; When they let go of one, we quickly get rid of the other.
Their sympathy is so——
The fate of one, the other can hardly escape—
They live together and die together.
[Exit.
Exit.
Enter Miss and Nurse.
Enter Miss and Nurse.
Miss. But is it sure and certain, say you, he's my Lord's own Brother?
Miss. But are you absolutely sure he's my Lord's own brother?
Nurse. As sure, as he's your lawful Husband.
Nurse. As sure as he's your legal husband.
Miss. I'cod, if I had known that in time, I don't know but I might have kept him; For, between you and I, Nurse, he'd have made a Husband worth two of this I have. But which do you think you shou'd fancy most, Nurse?
Miss. I swear, if I had known that earlier, I might have been able to keep him; because, to be honest, Nurse, he would have made a husband twice as good as the one I have now. But which one do you think you’d prefer, Nurse?
Nurse. Why, truly, in my poor fancy, Madam, your first Husband is the prettier Gentleman.
Nurse. Honestly, in my humble opinion, Madam, your first husband is the more handsome gentleman.
Miss. I don't like my Lord's Shapes, Nurse.
No way. I don't like my Lord's shapes, Nurse.
Nurse. Why in good truly, as a body may say, he is but a Slam.
Nurse. Honestly, he’s just a joke of a person.
Miss. What do you think now he puts me in mind of? Don't you remember a long, loose, shambling sort of a Horse my Father call'd Washy?
Miss. What do you think he reminds me of now? Don't you remember that long, awkward, shambling kind of horse my dad called Washy?
Nurse. As like as two Twin-Brothers.
Miss. I'cod, I have thought so a hundred times: 'Faith, I'm tired of him.
Miss. Honestly, I've thought that a hundred times: 'Seriously, I'm done with him.
Nurse. Indeed, Madam, I think you had e'en as good stand to your first Bargain.
Nurse. Yes, Ma'am, I believe it's better for you to stick with your original deal.
Miss. O but, Nurse, we han't considered the main thing yet. If I leave my Lord, I must leave my Lady too: and when I rattle about the Streets in my Coach, they'll only say, there goes Mistress——Mistress——Mistress what? What's this Man's Name, I have married, Nurse?
Miss. Oh, but Nurse, we haven't thought about the main thing yet. If I leave my Lord, I have to leave my Lady too: and when I drive around the streets in my coach, they'll just say, there goes Mistress—Mistress—Mistress what? What's this man's name that I've married, Nurse?
Nurse. 'Squire Fashion.
Nurse. Squire Style.
Miss. 'Squire Fashion is it?——Well, 'Squire, that's better than nothing: Do you think one cou'd not get him made a Knight, Nurse?
Miss. 'Squire Fashion is it?——Well, 'Squire, that's better than nothing. Do you think we could get him knighted, Nurse?
Nurse. I don't know but one might, Madam, when the King's in a good Humour.
Nurse. I don't know, but one could, ma'am, when the King's in a good mood.
Miss. I'cod, that wou'd do rarely. For then he'd be as good a Man as my Father, you know.
Miss. I swear, that would be amazing. Then he'd be just as good a man as my dad, you know.
Nurse. By'r Lady, and that's as good as the best of 'em.
Nurse. By the Lady, and that's as good as the best of them.
Miss. So 'tis, faith; for then I shall be my Lady, and your Ladyship at every Word, that's all I have to care for. Ha, Nurse! But hark you me, one thing more, and then I have done. I'm afraid, if I change my Husband again, I shan't have so much Money to throw about, Nurse.
Miss. That's true, honestly; because then I will be my Lady, and you will call me that every time, and that’s all I need to worry about. Hey, Nurse! But wait a second, one more thing, and then I’m done. I'm worried that if I switch husbands again, I won't have as much money to spend freely, Nurse.
Nurse. O, enough's as good as a Feast: Besides, Madam, one don't know, but as much may fall to your share with the younger Brother, as with the elder. For tho' these Lords have a power of Wealth, indeed; yet as I have heard say, they give it all to their Sluts and their Trulls, who joggle it about in their Coaches, with a Murrain to 'em, whilst poor Madam sits sighing and wishing, and knotting and crying, and has not a spare Half-Crown to buy her a Practice of Piety.
Nurse. Oh, that's enough to make a feast! Besides, Madam, you never know—you might end up with as much from the younger brother as you would from the older one. Because even though these lords have plenty of money, I've heard they spend it all on their mistresses and lovers, who flaunt it around in their carriages, while poor Madam is left sighing, wishing, crying, and tying herself in knots, without even a spare fifty cents to get herself a Practice of Piety.
Miss. O, but for that, don't deceive yourself, Nurse. For this I must [Snapping her Fingers.] say for my Lord, and a——for him: He's as free as an open House at Christmas. For this very Morning he told me, I shou'd have two hundred a-year to buy Pins. Now, Nurse, if[Pg 106] he gives me two hundred a-year to buy Pins, what do you think he'll give me to buy fine Petticoats?
Miss. Oh, don’t fool yourself about that, Nurse. I have to say this for my Lord, and a——for him: He’s as open as a house during Christmas. Just this morning, he told me I’d have two hundred a year to buy pins. Now, Nurse, if[Pg 106] he gives me two hundred a year for pins, what do you think he’ll give me for fancy petticoats?
Nurse. Ah, my Dearest, he deceives these faully, and he's no better than a Rogue for his pains. These Londoners have got a Gibberidge with them, would confound a Gipsey. That which they call Pin-money, is to buy their Wives every thing in the varsal World, down to their very Shoe-tyes? Nay, I have heard Folks say, That some Ladies, if they will have Gallants, as they call 'em, are forc'd to find them out of their Pin-money too.
Nurse. Oh, my dear, he deceives these fools, and he's just as much of a rogue for his troubles. These Londoners have a way with words that could confuse a gypsy. What they call pin money is meant to buy their wives everything in the entire world, even down to their shoelaces! I've even heard people say that some ladies, if they want lovers, as they call them, have to pay for them out of their pin money as well.
Miss. Has he serv'd me so, say ye?——Then I'll be his Wife no longer, that's fixt. Look, here he comes, with all the fine Folks at 's heels. I'cod, Nurse, these London Ladies will laugh till they crack again, to see me slip my Collar, and run away from my Husband. But, d'ye hear? Pray take care of one thing: When the Business comes to break out, be sure you get between me and my Father, for you know his Tricks; he'll knock me down.
Miss. Has he really done that to me?——Then I’m not going to be his wife anymore, that's for sure. Look, here he comes, with all those fancy people following him. I swear, Nurse, these London ladies will laugh so hard they might crack up when they see me slip away from my husband. But listen, please make sure of one thing: when everything blows up, make sure you get between me and my dad, because you know his tricks; he'll knock me down.
Nurse. I'll mind him, ne'er fear, Madam.
Nurse. I've got him covered, no worries, Madam.
Enter Lord Foppington, Loveless, Worthy, Amanda, and Berinthia.
Enter Lord Foppington, Loveless, Worthy, Amanda, and Berinthia.
Lord Fop. Ladies and Gentlemen, you are all welcome. [To Lov.] Loveless——That's my Wife; pr'ythee do me the favour to salute her: And do'st hear, [Aside to him.] if thau hast a mind to try thy Fartune, to be reveng'd of me, I won't take it ill, stap my Vitals.
Lord Fop. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome everyone. [To Lov.] Loveless——That's my wife; please do me the favor of greeting her. And do you hear, [Aside to him.] if you want to test your luck and get back at me, I won’t take it personally, I swear.
Lov. You need not fear, Sir, I'm too fond of my own Wife, to have the least Inclination for yours.
Lov. You don’t need to worry, Sir, I love my own wife too much to have any interest in yours.
[All salute Miss.
All salute Miss.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] I'd give a thausand Paund he wou'd make Love to her, that he may see she has sense enough to prefer me to him, tho' his own Wife has not: [Viewing him.]—He's a very beastly Fellow, in my Opinion.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] I’d give a thousand pounds for him to flirt with her, so she can see that she’s smart enough to choose me over him, even if his own wife doesn’t: [Looking at him.]—I think he’s a really terrible guy.
Miss. [Aside.] What a Power of fine Men there are in this London! He that kist me first, is a goodly Gentleman, I promise you: Sure those Wives have a rare time on't, that live here always.
Miss. [Aside.] What a lot of handsome men there are in this London! The one who kissed me first is quite a gentleman, I assure you: Those wives who live here all the time must have an amazing experience.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, with Musicians, Dancers, &c.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, with Musicians, Dancers, etc.
Sir Tun. Come, come in, good People, come in; come, tune your Fiddles, tune your Fiddles.
Sir Tun. Come on in, folks, come in; come, tune your fiddles, tune your fiddles.
To the Hautboys.] Bag-pipes, make ready there. Come, strike up.
To the Hautboys.] Bagpipes, get ready. Come on, start playing.
[Sings.
Sings.
And that's why we observe holidays, And come to have fun.
Ha! there's my Wench, I'faith: Touch and take, I'll warrant her; she'll breed like a tame Rabbit.
Ha! There’s my girl, I swear: Touch her and you’ll see, I guarantee she’ll have kids like a pet rabbit.
Miss. [Aside.] I'cod, I think my Father's gotten drunk before Supper.
Miss. [Aside.] I swear, I think my father's gotten drunk before dinner.
Sir Tun. [To Lov. and Wor.] Gentlemen, you are welcome. [Saluting Aman. and Ber.] Ladies, by your leave. Ha——They bill like Turtles. Udsookers, they set my old Blood a-fire; I shall cuckold some body before Morning.
Sir Tun. [To Love. and Wor.] Gentlemen, welcome. [Saluting Aman. and Ber.] Ladies, if you'll allow me. Ha——They're flirting like turtles. Goodness, they really get my blood boiling; I might end up cheating on someone before morning.
Lord Fop. [To Sir Tun.] Sir, you being Master of the Entertainment, will you desire the Company to sit?
Lord Fop. [To Sir Tun.] Sir, since you’re in charge of the event, could you ask the guests to take their seats?
Sir Tun. Oons, Sir,——I'm the happiest Man on this side the Ganges.
Sir Tun. Oons, Sir,——I'm the happiest man on this side of the Ganges.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] This is a mighty unaccountable old Fellow. [To Sir Tun.] I said, Sir, it wou'd be convenient to ask the Company to sit.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] This is a really puzzling old guy. [To Sir Tun.] I suggested, Sir, it would be helpful to ask the guests to sit down.
Sir Tun. Sit——with all my heart: Come, take your places, Ladies; take your places, Gentlemen: Come, sit down, sit down; a Pox of Ceremony, take your places.
Sir Tun. Sit—I'm all in: Come on, take your seats, Ladies; take your seats, Gentlemen: Come, sit down, sit down; forget the formalities, take your places.
[They sit, and the Mask begins.
[They sit, and the Mask starts.]
Dialogue between Cupid and Hymen.
Conversation between Cupid and Hymen.
You Source of all Discord, you Time to Rest;
Tell me what the Wretches in Bondage can see,
That the goal of their life is still directed towards you.
[Pg 108]
From where all your subjects have adopted the style
To develop a liking for a change, no matter what it is,
And I’ll explain why those who are free would choose to be bound.
We're unhappy with both Freedom and you. Constancy is an empty sound, Heaven, Earth, and everything revolves around,
Everything in Nature is in motion,
The Joys of Life and Love
Come in Variety.
Had a husband who knew how to cherish his wife;
If virtue were abundant, a wife could spare, These really tough times, to be loyal to her Lord;
An inaccurate explanation might be provided about those
Who are tied by the tail, to be led by the nose.
To spend all their days in conflict and struggle: Since whatever the rewards of Heaven may bring her,
He's completely convinced that he'll genuinely hate her; I think it would be much smarter to wander freely, And the bursts of affection directed at the crowd.
To compel a struggling wife to remain faithful to her commitment;
But I haven't pretended for many years now,
By marrying people, to help them become more virtuous.
If you had eyes, you would quickly see it. How smoothly the Dart Slips into Your Heart
Of a Married Woman; While the shivering Maid
Stands shaking and hoping, but doesn't dare to accept it.
The Mask ended, enter Young Fash, Coupler, and Bull.
The Mask ended, enter Young Fashion, Connector, and Bull.
Sir Tun. So, very fine, very fine, i'faith; this is something like a Wedding; now if Supper were but ready, I'd say a short Grace; and if I had such a Bedfellow as Hoyden to night——I'd say as short Prayers.
Sir Tun. So, very nice, very nice, indeed; this is starting to feel like a wedding; now if only dinner were ready, I’d say a quick prayer; and if I had a partner like Hoyden tonight——I’d say even quicker prayers.
Seeing Young Fash. How now——what have we got here? A Ghost? Nay, it must be so; for his Flesh and Blood cou'd never have dar'd to appear before me. [To him.] Ah, Rogue——
Seeing Young Fash. What’s this? A ghost? No, it has to be; his flesh and blood could never have dared to show up in front of me. [To him.] Ah, you trickster—
Lord Fop. Stap my Vitals, Tam again?
Lord Fop. Seriously, Tam again?
Sir Tun. My Lord, will you cut his Throat? Or shall I?
Sir Tun. My Lord, should you cut his throat, or should I?
Lord Fop. Leave him to me, Sir, if you please. Pr'ythee, Tam, be so ingenuous now, as to tell me what thy Business is here?
Lord Fop. Leave him to me, Sir, if you don't mind. Please, Tam, be honest now and tell me what your business is here?
Young Fash. 'Tis with your Bride.
Young Fash. It's with your Bride.
Lord Fop. Thau art the impudent'st Fellow that Nature has yet spawn'd into the Warld, strike me speechless.
Lord Fop. You are the most brazen person that Nature has ever unleashed into the world, leaving me utterly speechless.
Young Fash. Why you know my Modesty wou'd have starv'd me; I sent it a-begging to you, and you wou'd not give it a Groat.
Young Fash. You know my Modesty would have left me in a tough spot; I sent it to you asking for help, and you wouldn't spare a penny.
Lord Fop. And dost thau expect by an excess of Assurance to extart a Maintenance fram me?
Lord Fop. Do you really think that by being overly bold, you can get support from me?
Young Fash. [Taking Miss by the Hand.] I do intend to extort your Mistress from you, and that I hope will prove one.
Young Fash. [Taking Miss by the Hand.] I plan to take your Mistress away from you, and I hope that will be successful.
Lord Fop. I ever thaught Newgate or Bedlam wou'd be his Fartune, and naw his Fate's decided. Pr'ythee, Loveless, dost knaw of ever a Mad Doctor hard by?
Lord Fop. I always thought Newgate or Bedlam would be his fate, and now his destiny is set. Please, Loveless, do you know of any mad doctor nearby?
Young Fash. There's one at your Elbow will cure you presently.
Young Fash. There’s one next to you that will fix you right up.
To Bull. Pr'ythee, Doctor, take him in hand quickly.
To Bull. Please, Doctor, take care of him quickly.
Lord Fop. Shall I beg the Favour of you, Sir, to pull your Fingers out of my Wife's Hand?
Lord Fop. Can I ask you, Sir, to take your fingers out of my wife's hand?
Young Fash. His Wife! Look you there; now I hope you are all satisfy'd he's mad.
Young Fash. His Wife! Look at that; now I hope you're all convinced he's crazy.
Lord Fop. Naw is it not impassible far me to penetrate what Species of Fally it is thou art driving at?
Lord Fop. Now is it not impossible for me to understand what kind of folly you are getting at?
Sir Tun. Here, here, here, let me beat out his Brains, and that will decide all.
Sir Tun. Here, here, here, let me bash his brains out, and that will settle everything.
Lord Fop. No, pray, Sir, hold, we'll destray him presently according to Law.
Lord Fop. No, please, Sir, wait, we'll deal with him right away according to the law.
Young Fash. [To Bull.] Nay, then advance, Doctor: come, you are a Man of Conscience, answer boldly to the Questions I shall ask: Did not you marry me to this young Lady, before ever that Gentleman there saw her Face?
Young Fash. [To Bull.] Well, go ahead, Doctor: come on, you're a man of principle, answer honestly to the questions I'm about to ask: Didn't you marry me to this young lady before that gentleman over there ever saw her face?
Bull. Since the Truth must out, I did.
Bull. Since the truth has to come out, I did.
Young Fash. Nurse, sweet Nurse, were not you a Witness to it?
Young Fash. Nurse, sweet Nurse, weren't you a witness to it?
Nurse. Since my Conscience bids me speak——I was.
Nurse. Since my conscience tells me to speak—I was.
Young Fash. [To Miss.] Madam, am not I your lawful Husband?
Young Fash. [To Miss.] Madam, am I not your lawful husband?
Miss. Truly I can't tell, but you married me first.
Miss. Honestly, I can't say for sure, but you were the one who married me first.
Young Fash. Now I hope you are all satisfy'd?
Young Fash. Now, I hope you're all satisfied?
Sir Tun. [Offering to strike him, is held by Lov. and Wor.] Oons and Thunder, you lye.
Sir Tun. [Trying to hit him, is restrained by Lov. and Wor.] Oons and Thunder, you're lying.
Lord Fop. Pray, Sir, be calm, the Battle is in Disarder, but requires more Canduct than Courage to rally our Forces. Pray, Dactar, one word with you.
Lord Fop. Please, Sir, stay calm, the battle is in disarray, but it takes more guidance than bravery to regroup our forces. Please, Dactar, may I have a word with you?
To Bull [Aside.] Look you, Sir, tho' I will not presume to calculate your Notions of Damnation, fram the Description you give us of Hell, yet since there is at least a passibility you may have a Pitchfark thrust in your Backside, methinks, it shou'd not be worth your while to risk your Saul in the next Warld, for the sake of a beggarly yaunger Brather, who is nat able to make your Bady happy in this.
To Bull [Aside.] Look, sir, even though I won’t assume to judge your ideas of damnation based on your description of hell, since there’s at least a possibility you could have a pitchfork stuck in your backside, it seems to me that risking your soul in the next world isn’t worth it for the sake of a pathetic younger brother who can’t even make your body happy in this one.
Bull. Alas! my Lord, I have no worldly Ends; I speak the Truth, Heaven knows.
Bull. Unfortunately, my Lord, I have no personal motives; I'm just speaking the truth, as Heaven knows.
Lord Fop. Nay, pr'ythee, never engage Heaven in the matter; far, by all I can see, 'tis like to prove a Business for the Devil.
Lord Fop. No, please, don't involve Heaven in this; it really seems like this is going to be a job for the Devil.
Young Fash. Come, pray, Sir, all above-board, no corrupting of Evidences; if you please, this young Lady is my lawful Wife, and I'll justify it in all the Courts of England; so your Lordship (who always had a Passion for Variety) may go seek a new Mistress, if you think fit.
Young Fash. Come on, Sir, let’s be honest, no tampering with evidence; if you don’t mind, this young lady is my legal wife, and I can prove it in all the courts of England; so your Lordship (who's always been into variety) can go look for a new mistress if you want.
Lord Fop. I am struck dumb with his Impudence, and cannot passitively tell whether ever I shall speak again, or nat.
Lord Fop. I'm speechless from his boldness, and I can't passively say whether I will ever speak again or not.
Sir Tun. Then let me come and examine the Business a little, I'll jerk the Truth out of 'em presently; here, give me my Dog-Whip.
Sir Tun. Then let me come and check out the situation a bit; I'll get the truth from them right away. Here, hand me my dog whip.
Young Fash. Look you, old Gentleman, 'tis in vain to make a Noise; if you grow mutinous, I have some Friends within Call, have Swords by their Sides, above four Foot long; therefore be calm, hear the Evidence patiently, and when the Jury have given their Verdict, pass Sentence according to Law: Here's honest Coupler shall be Foreman, and ask as many Questions as he pleases.
Young Fash. Listen, old man, it’s pointless to make a fuss; if you get unruly, I have friends nearby with swords that are over four feet long. So just stay calm, listen to the evidence carefully, and once the jury has given their verdict, pass judgment according to the law: Here’s honest Coupler who can be the foreman and ask as many questions as he wants.
Coup. All I have to ask is, whether Nurse persists in her Evidence? The Parson, I dare swear, will never flinch from his.
Coup. All I want to know is if Nurse still stands by her testimony? I bet the Parson won't back down from his.
Nurse. [To Sir Tun. kneeling.] I hope in Heaven your Worship will pardon me; I have served you long and faithfully, but in this thing I was over-reach'd; your Worship, however, was deceiv'd as, well as I; and if the Wedding-Dinner had been ready, you had put Madam to Bed with him with your own Hands.
Nurse. [To Sir Tun. kneeling.] I hope you can forgive me; I’ve served you for a long time and with loyalty, but in this situation, I was misled; your Worship was tricked just like I was; and if the Wedding Dinner had been prepared, you would have tucked Madam in with him yourself.
Sir Tun. But how durst you do this, without acquainting of me?
Sir Tun. But how could you do this without letting me know?
Nurse. Alas! if your Worship had seen how the poor Thing begg'd, and pray'd, and clung, and twin'd about me, like Ivy to an old Wall, you wou'd say, I who had suckled it, and swaddled it, and nurst it both wet and dry, must have had a Heart of Adamant to refuse it.
Nurse. Oh! If you had seen how desperately the poor Thing begged, pleaded, and clung to me, like ivy wrapping around an old wall, you'd say that I, who had nursed it, swaddled it, and cared for it through thick and thin, must have a heart of stone to turn it away.
Sir Tun. Very well.
Sir Tun. Alright.
Young Fash. Foreman, I expect your Verdict.
Young Fash. Foreman, I'm waiting for your verdict.
Coup. Ladies and Gentlemen, what's your Opinions?
Coup. Ladies and gentlemen, what are your thoughts?
All. A clear Case, a clear Case.
All. A clear case, a clear case.
Coup. Then, my young Folks, I wish you Joy.
Coup. So, my young people, I wish you joy.
Sir Tun. [To Young Fash.] Come hither, Stripling; if it be true, then, that thou hast marry'd my Daughter, pr'ythee tell me who thou art?
Sir Tun. [To Young Fash.] Come here, kid; if it's true that you've married my daughter, please tell me who you are?
Young Fash. Sir, the best of my Condition is, I am your Son-in-law; and the worst of it is, I am Brother to that Noble Peer there.
Young Fash. Sir, the best part of my situation is that I am your son-in-law; and the worst part is that I am the brother of that noble peer over there.
Sir Tun. Art thou Brother to that Noble Peer——Why then, that Noble Peer, and thee, and thy Wife, and the Nurse, and the Priest——may all go and be damn'd together.
Sir Tun. Are you a Brother to that Noble Peer——Then, that Noble Peer, you, your Wife, the Nurse, and the Priest——can all go and be damned together.
[Exit Sir Tun.
[Exit Sir Tun.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] Naw, for my part, I think the wisest thing a Man can do with an aking Heart, is to put on a serene Countenance; for a Philosaphical Air is the most becoming thing in the Warld to the Face of a Person of Quality; I will therefore bear my Disgrace like a Great Man, and let the People see I am above an Affrant. [To Young Fash.] Dear Tam, since Things are thus fallen aut, pr'ythee give me leave to wish thee Jay. I do it de bon Cœur, strike me dumb: you have marry'd a Woman beautiful in her Person, charming in her Airs, prudent in her Canduct, canstant in her Inclinations, and of a nice Marality, split my Wind-pipe.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] No, for my part, I think the smartest thing a man can do with a broken heart is to put on a calm face; because a philosophical attitude is the most fitting look for a person of status. I will therefore handle my disgrace like a true gentleman and show everyone that I am above an insult. [To Young Fash.] Dear Tam, since things have turned out this way, please let me wish you joy. I say it de bon Cœur, I’m speechless: you have married a woman who is beautiful in her looks, charming in her demeanor, wise in her actions, steadfast in her feelings, and of impeccable morality, it takes my breath away.
Young Fash. Your Lardship may keep up your Spirits with your Grimace, if you please; I shall support mine with this Lady, and two thousand Pound a-year.
Young Fash. You can keep your spirits up with your funny faces if you want; I’ll maintain mine with this lady and two thousand pounds a year.
Taking Miss.] Come, Madam:
Taking Miss.] Come on, Madam:
And now, maybe, the deal is made for life:
If I'm wrong, and we should separate again.
At least you can see that you have a choice of men:
No, if the war finally causes such destruction,
That lovers should become rare, yet for your sake, Kind Heaven will always keep a Beau—
Pointing to Lord Fop.] You'll find his Lordship ready to come to.}
}
Lord Fop. Her Ladyship shall stap my Vitals, if I do. }
Pointing to Lord Fop.] You'll find him ready to join us.}
The text seems to be missing. Please provide the short piece of text you'd like me to modernize.
Lord Fop. If I do, her Ladyship can take my life. }
EPILOGUE,
Spoken by
Said by
Lord Foppington.
Lord Foppington.
Gentlemen and Ladies,
Everyone,
(In my Opinion) with an edgy Play;
In which the Author intends to show,
That fool, from the beginning—was a dandy.[Pg 114] I really believe this is very important, }
That if some harsh punishment isn't his destiny, }
Gad's Curse could eventually ruin the State. }
I have to admit, I don't consider anyone a friend. Who would disapprove of you, men of fashion?
Far, allow me to observe, good clothes are important
Have always been a great support to kings:
All betrayals come from ignorance; it is not
Within the reach of Gentle Beaux to plan;
They have no bile; no energy, no teeth, no stings,
Of all Gad's creatures, the most harmless beings.
Throughout all records, no prince has ever been killed
By someone who had a Feather in their Brain,
They're men with too sophisticated an education,
To argue with a court—for a disgusting, filthy nation.
I'm really positive, you’ve never seen
A thorough Republican and a complete gentleman. You won’t often see A better-dressed Jacobite than he: In short, through all the courts I've been in, Your troublemakers—still are in soiled linen.
Has anyone ever danced the Tyburn Jig,
With a free hairstyle, or a well-styled wig?
Has any highwayman ever asked you to stop,
With a charmingly risqué snuff box in his hand? Do you ever notice they ask about your purse?
As gentlemen of good upbringing do?—Ladies, good grief,
This author is a bit of a fool, and it's not appropriate
You should give him even a little bit of wit: To ensure that his pretense is never mentioned,
THE
PROVOK'D WIFE.
A
COMEDY.
PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
To provide each person with a truthful reflection, And show him what kind of fool he is:
I hope the next person who teaches at the school, Will show our author he's just a scribbling fool.
And to make sure the satire has an impact, Kind Heaven! inspire some vengeful Priest to write, }
And let some unattractive woman write. For I would have him lashed, by Heaven! I would, *Until his arrogance drowned in blood.* *Three Plays simultaneously showcase a Face of Brass,* }
No matter what they are, that's not the case— }
Writing three plays, that's just foolishness. }
But what I can't forgive the most, he knows it too, He has recently learned about you at his own expense— Experience shows, to the pain of many a writer, You preside over a Court where Mercy has no place;
You have so much of the old Serpent's Sting,
You love to condemn, just like Heaven loves to save. In foreign lands, let a brave volunteer, }
For the public good, take the stage, He encounters ten thousand smiles to chase away his fear. All excitement for the adventurous young Beginner, And only punish the unrepentant sinner;
They do point out his flaws, but gently. So gentle that his worth can still be recognized; Kindly, they support the mistakes of his writing, He should avoid them when he writes again. But it's not like that in this friendly town, }
Everything is the same, whether it's an Ox, a Poet, or a Crown; }
Old England's play was always about tearing things down. }
Dramatis Personæ.
| MEN. | |
|---|---|
| Constant, | Mr. Verbruggen. |
| Heartfree, | Mr. Hudson. |
| Sir John Brute, | Mr. Betterton. |
| Treble, a Singing-Master, | Mr. Bowman. |
| Rasor, Valet de Chambre to Sir John Brute, | Mr. Bowen. |
| Justice of the Peace, | Mr. Bright. |
| Lord Rake, | Companions to Sir John Brute. |
| Col. Bully, | |
| Constable and Watch. | |
| WOMEN. | |
| Lady Brute, | Mrs. Barry. |
| Belinda, her Niece, | Mrs. Bracegirdle. |
| Lady Fancyfull, | Mrs. Bowman. |
| Madamoiselle, | Mrs. Willis. |
| Cornet and Pipe, Servants to Lady Fancyfull. | |
THE
PROVOK'D WIFE.
The Provoked Wife.
ACT I. SCENE I.
SCENE, Sir John Brute's House.
SCENE, Sir John Brute's Home.
Enter Sir John, solus.
Enter Sir John, alone.
What cloying Meat is Love—when Matrimony's the Sauce to it! Two Years Marriage has debauch'd my five Senses. Every thing I see, every thing I hear, every thing I feel, every thing I smell, and every thing I taste—methinks has Wife in't. No Boy was ever so weary of his Tutor, no Girl of her Bib, no Nun of doing Penance, or old Maid of being chaste, as I am of being married. Sure there's a secret Curse entail'd upon the very Name of Wife. My Lady is a young Lady, a fine Lady, a witty Lady, a virtuous Lady,—and yet I hate her. There is but one thing on Earth I loath beyond her: That's Fighting. Would my Courage come up to a fourth part of my Ill-Nature, I'd stand buff to her Relations, and thrust her out of doors. But Marriage has sunk me down to such an Ebb of Resolution, I dare not draw my Sword, tho' even to get rid of my Wife. But here she comes.
What a heavy burden Love is—especially when Marriage is the icing on the cake! Two years of marriage have spoiled my senses. Everything I see, hear, feel, smell, and taste seems to remind me of my wife. No boy was ever so tired of his tutor, no girl of her bib, no nun of doing penance, or old maid of being chaste, as I am of being married. There must be a hidden curse attached to the very name of "wife." My lady is young, beautiful, clever, and virtuous—but I can't stand her. The only thing I hate more than her is fighting. If my courage matched even a fraction of my bad mood, I would confront her family and kick her out. But marriage has dragged me down to such a low point of determination that I can't even draw my sword, even if it meant escaping my wife. But here she comes.
Enter Lady Brute.
Enter Lady Brute.
Lady Brute. Do you dine at home to-day, Sir John?
Lady Brute. Are you having dinner at home today, Sir John?
Sir John. Why, do you expect I should tell you what I don't know myself?
Sir John. Why do you think I should tell you what I don't even know myself?
Lady Brute. I thought there was no harm in asking you.
Lady Brute. I didn’t think it would be a problem to ask you.
Sir John. If thinking wrong were an excuse for Impertinence, Women might be justify'd in most things they say or do.
Sir John. If having the wrong thoughts were a valid excuse for rudeness, women could be justified in almost everything they say or do.
Lady Brute. I'm sorry I have said any thing to displease you.
Lady Brute. I'm sorry for anything I've said that upset you.
Sir John. Sorrow for things past is of as little importance to me, as my dining at home or abroad ought to be to you.
Sir John. Regret for things that have happened is as insignificant to me as where I eat—whether at home or out—is to you.
Lady Brute. My Enquiry was only that I might have provided what you lik'd.
Lady Brute. I just wanted to know so I could get you what you liked.
Sir John. Six to four you had been in the wrong there again; for what I lik'd yesterday I don't like to-day; and what I like to-day, 'tis odds I mayn't like to-morrow.
Sir John. Six to four you were wrong again; because what I liked yesterday I don't like today; and what I like today, there's a good chance I won't like tomorrow.
Lady Brute. But if I had ask'd you what you lik'd?
Lady Brute. But if I had asked you what you liked?
Sir John. Why then there wou'd have been more asking about it than the thing was worth.
Sir John. Well, there would have been more questions about it than it was actually worth.
Lady Brute. I wish I did but know how I might please you.
Lady Brute. I wish I knew how to make you happy.
Sir John. Ay, but that sort of Knowledge is not a Wife's Talent.
Sir John. Yes, but that kind of knowledge isn't a wife's skill.
Lady Brute. Whate'er my Talent is, I'm sure my Will has ever been to make you easy.
Lady Brute. Whatever my abilities are, I'm confident that my intention has always been to make you comfortable.
Sir John. If Women were to have their Wills, the World wou'd be finely govern'd.
Sir John. If women could have their way, the world would be wonderfully run.
Lady Brute. What reason have I given you to use me as you do of late? It once was otherwise: You marry'd me for Love.
Lady Brute. What have I done to make you treat me like this lately? It wasn't always like this: You married me for love.
Sir John. And you me for Money: So you have your Reward, and I have mine.
Sir John. And you want me for money: So you got what you wanted, and I got what I needed.
Lady Brute. What is it that disturbs you?
Lady Brute. What’s wrong?
Sir John. A Parson.
Sir John. A Pastor.
Lady Brute. Why, what has he done to you?
Lady Brute. What has he done to you?
Sir John. He has married me.
Sir John. He married me.
[Exit Sir John.
[Exit Sir John.
Lady Brute sola.
Lady Brute alone.
The Devil's in the Fellow, I think——I was told before I married him, that thus 'twou'd be: But I thought I had Charms enough to govern him; and that where there was an Estate, a Woman must needs be happy; so my Vanity has deceiv'd me, and my Ambition has made me uneasy. But there's some Comfort still; if one wou'd be reveng'd of him, these are good times; a Woman may have a Gallant, and a separate Maintenance too—The surly Puppy—yet he's a Fool for't: for hitherto he has been no Monster: But who knows how far he may provoke me? I never lov'd him, yet I have been ever true to him; and that, in spite of all the Attacks of Art and Nature upon a poor weak Woman's Heart, in favour of a tempting Lover. Methinks so noble a Defence as I have made, shou'd be rewarded with a better Usage—Or who can tell?——Perhaps a good part of what I suffer from my Husband, may be a Judgment upon me for my Cruelty to my Lover.——Lord, with what pleasure could I indulge that Thought, were there but a Possibility of finding Arguments to make it good!—--And how do I know but there may?—Let me see——What opposes?—My matrimonial Vow——Why, what did I vow? I think I promis'd to be true to my Husband. Well; and he promis'd to be kind to me. But he han't kept his Word——Why then I'm absolv'd from mine—Ay, that seems clear to me. The Argument's good between the King and the People, why not between the Husband and the Wife? O, but that Condition was not exprest—No matter, 'twas understood. Well, by all I see, if I argue the matter a little longer with myself, I shan't find so many Bug-bears in the Way as I thought I shou'd. Lord, what fine Notions of Virtue do we Women take up upon the Credit of old foolish Philosophers! Virtue's its own Reward, Virtue's this, Virtue's that——Virtue's an Ass, and a Gallant's worth forty on't.
The Devil's in the Partner, I think—I was warned before I married him that this would happen; but I thought I had enough charm to control him, and that having an estate would guarantee a woman's happiness. My vanity has fooled me, and my ambition has made me restless. But there’s still some comfort; if I wanted to take revenge on him, these are good times—a woman can have a lover and her own support too—the grumpy fool—yet he’s a fool for it: because up until now, he hasn’t been a monster. But who knows how far he might push me? I’ve never loved him, yet I’ve always been loyal to him; and that, despite all the temptations from the world and nature that pull on a poor, weak woman’s heart toward a charming lover. I think such a noble defense as I’ve put up deserves better treatment—Or who knows? Maybe a lot of what I suffer from my husband is a punishment for my cruelty to my lover—Lord, how enjoyable it would be to entertain that thought, if only I could find reasons to justify it!—And how do I know there aren’t any?—Let’s see—What stands in the way?—My marriage vow—Well, what did I vow? I think I promised to be faithful to my husband. Right; and he promised to be kind to me. But he hasn’t kept his word—So I’m released from mine—Yes, that seems clear to me. The argument works for the King and the People, so why not for the Husband and the Wife? Oh, but that condition wasn’t stated—Doesn’t matter, it was implied. Well, from what I can see, if I mull this over a bit longer, I won’t find as many obstacles as I thought I would. Lord, what silly ideas about virtue do we women adopt based on the words of old, foolish philosophers! Virtue is its own reward, virtue is this, virtue is that—Virtue’s a fool, and a lover is worth forty of it.
Enter Belinda.
Enter Belinda.
Lady Brute. Good-morrow, dear Cousin.
Lady Brute. Good morning, dear Cousin.
Bel. Good-morrow, Madam; you look pleas'd this Morning.
Bel. Good morning, Madam; you look pleased this morning.
Lady Brute. I am so.
Lady Brute. I totally am.
Bel. With what, pray?
Bel. With what, please?
Lady Brute. With my Husband.
Lady Brute. With my husband.
Bel. Drown Husbands; for your's is a provoking Fellow: As he went out just now, I pray'd him to tell me what time of Day 'twas; and he ask'd me if I took him for the Church-Clock, that was oblig'd to tell all the Parish.
Bel. Drown your husbands; because yours is an annoying guy. Just now when he was leaving, I asked him what time it was, and he asked me if I thought he was the church clock, obligated to tell the whole neighborhood.
Lady Brute. He has been saying some good obliging things to me too. In short, Belinda, he has us'd me so barbarously of late, that I cou'd almost resolve to play the downright Wife—and cuckold him.
Lady Brute. He has been saying some nice things to me too. In short, Belinda, he has treated me so badly lately that I could almost decide to be a straightforward wife—and cheat on him.
Bel. That would be downright indeed.
That would be really wrong.
Lady Brute. Why, after all, there's more to be said for't than you'd imagine, Child. I know, according to the strict Statute-Law of Religion, I shou'd do wrong: But if there were a Court of Chancery in Heav'n, I'm sure I shou'd cast him.
Lady Brute. Well, there’s actually more to it than you might think, Child. I know that according to the strict laws of religion, I shouldn’t do this: but if there were a Court of Chancery in Heaven, I’m sure I would win my case against him.
Bel. If there were a House of Lords, you might.
Bel. If there were a House of Lords, you might.
Lady Brute. In either I should infallibly carry my Cause. Why, he is the first Aggressor, not I.
Lady Brute. In either case, I would definitely win my argument. After all, he's the first one to attack, not me.
Bel. Ay, but you know we must return Good for Evil.
Bel. Yes, but you know we have to respond to wrongs with kindness.
Lady Brute. That may be a Mistake in the Translation—Pr'ythee be of my Opinion, Belinda; for I'm positive I'm in the right; and if you'll keep up the Prerogative of a Woman, you'll likewise be positive you are in the right, whenever you do any thing you have a mind to. But I shall play the Fool, and jest on, till I make you begin to think I'm in earnest.
Lady Brute. That might be a mistake in the translation—please agree with me, Belinda; because I’m sure I’m right; and if you embrace the privilege of being a woman, you’ll also be sure you’re right whenever you want to do something. But I’ll act silly and keep joking until I make you start to believe I’m serious.
Bel. I shan't take the Liberty, Madam, to think of any thing that you desire to keep a Secret from me.
Bel. I won't take the liberty, madam, to assume anything that you want to keep a secret from me.
Lady Brute. Alas, my Dear, I have no Secrets. My Heart cou'd never yet confine my Tongue.
Lady Brute. Unfortunately, my dear, I have no secrets. My heart has never been able to keep my mouth shut.
Bel. Your Eyes, you mean; for I'm sure I have seen them gadding, when your Tongue has been lock'd up safe enough.
Bel. You mean your eyes, because I'm sure I've seen them wandering while your mouth has been shut tight.
Lady Brute. My Eyes gadding! Pr'ythee after who, Child?
Lady Brute. My goodness! Who are you looking at, kid?
Bel. Why, after one that thinks you hate him, as much as I know you love him.
Bel. Why would you care about someone who thinks you hate him, when I know you love him just as much?
Lady Brute. Constant you mean.
Lady Brute. Constant you mean.
Bel. I do so.
I do.
Lady Brute. Lord, what shou'd put such a thing into your Head?
Lady Brute. Goodness, what made you think of something like that?
Bel. That which puts things into most People's Heads, Observation.
Bel. The thing that gets most people thinking is observation.
Lady Brute. Why what have you observ'd, in the Name of Wonder?
Lady Brute. What have you noticed, in the name of wonder?
Bel. I have observed you blush when you met him; force yourself away from him; and then be out of humour with every thing about you: In a Word, never was poor Creature so spurr'd on by Desire, and so rein'd in with Fear.
Bel. I've seen you blush when you met him; try to push him away; and then be annoyed with everything around you. In short, never has a poor creature been so driven by desire and so held back by fear.
Lady Brute. How strong is Fancy!
Lady Brute. Fancy is so strong!
Bel. How weak is Woman!
Bel. How weak is woman!
Lady Brute. Pr'ythee, Niece, have a better Opinion of your Aunt's Inclination.
Lady Brute. Please, Niece, think more highly of your Aunt's feelings.
Bel. Dear Aunt, have a better Opinion of your Niece's Understanding.
Bel. Dear Aunt, think better of your niece's understanding.
Lady Brute. You'll make me angry.
Lady Brute. You'll piss me off.
Bel. You'll make me laugh.
Bel. You'll crack me up.
Lady Brute. Then you are resolv'd to persist?
Lady Brute. So you're determined to stick to your decision?
Bel. Positively.
Definitely.
Lady Brute. And all I can say——
Lady Brute. And all I can say——
Bel. Will signify nothing.
Bel. Means nothing.
Lady Brute. Tho' I should swear 'twere false—
Lady Brute. Even if I swore it was false—
Bel. I should think it true.
I should think it’s true.
Lady Brute. Then let us both forgive; [Kissing her.] for we have both offended: I, in making a Secret; you, in discovering it.
Lady Brute. Then let’s both forgive; [Kissing her.] because we’ve both wronged each other: I, for keeping a secret; you, for revealing it.
Bel. Good Nature may do much: But you have more Reason to forgive one, than I have to pardon t'other.
Bel. Kindness can go a long way: But you have more reason to forgive one person than I have to excuse the other.
Lady Brute. 'Tis true, Belinda, you have given me so many Proofs of your Friendship, that my Reserve has been indeed a Crime: But that you may more easily forgive me, remember, Child, that when our Nature prompts us to a thing our Honour and Religion have forbid us; we wou'd (wer't possible) conceal even from the Soul itself, the Knowledge of the Body's Weakness.
Lady Brute. It’s true, Belinda, you’ve shown me so many signs of your friendship that my hesitation has really been a fault. But to help you forgive me more easily, remember, dear, that when our nature urges us to do something our honor and beliefs have forbidden, we would (if it were possible) hide even from our own soul the knowledge of our body’s weakness.
Bel. Well, I hope, to make your Friend amends, you'll hide nothing from her for the future, tho' the Body shou'd still grow weaker and weaker.
Bel. Well, I hope that to make things right with your friend, you won't hide anything from her in the future, even if your body continues to get weaker.
Lady Brute. No, from this Moment I have no more Reserve; and for a Proof of my Repentance, I own, Belinda, I'm in danger. Merit and Wit assault me from without; Nature and Love sollicit me within; my Husband's barbarous Usage piques me to Revenge; and Satan, catching at the fair Occasion, throws in my way that Vengeance, which of all Vengeance pleases Women best.
Lady Brute. No, from this moment I'm done holding back; and to prove my regret, I admit, Belinda, I'm in trouble. Talent and intelligence attack me from the outside; nature and love urge me from within; my husband's cruel treatment pushes me toward revenge; and Satan, seizing the perfect moment, presents me with that kind of vengeance that women enjoy the most.
Bel. 'Tis well Constant don't know the Weakness of the Fortification; for o' my Conscience he'd soon come on to the Assault.
Bel. It’s good that Constant doesn’t know the weakness of the fortification; because honestly, he’d be quick to launch an attack.
Lady Brute. Ay, and I'm afraid carry the Town too. But whatever you may have observ'd, I have dissembled so well as to keep him ignorant. So you see I'm no Coquette, Belinda: And if you follow my Advice, you'll never be one neither. 'Tis true, Coquetry is one of the main Ingredients in the natural Composition of a Woman; and I, as well as others, cou'd be well enough pleas'd to see a Crowd of young Fellows ogling, and glancing, and watching all Occasions to do forty foolish officious Things: Nay, shou'd some of 'em push on, even to hanging or drowning, why—'faith—if I shou'd let pure Woman alone, I shou'd e'en be but too well pleas'd with it.
Lady Brute. Yes, and I’m afraid I’d take the Town too. But whatever you might have noticed, I’ve managed to keep him in the dark. So you see, I’m no Coquette, Belinda: And if you take my advice, you won’t be one either. It’s true, Coquetry is one of the main traits in a woman’s natural makeup; and I, like others, would be quite happy to see a bunch of young guys staring, glancing, and looking for any chance to do all sorts of silly, attention-seeking things. In fact, if some of them went so far as to hanging or drowning themselves, well—honestly—if I were to just let pure Woman be, I would actually be quite pleased with it.
Bel. I'll swear 'twould tickle me strangely.
Bel. I swear it would make me laugh in a weird way.
Lady Brute. But after all, 'tis a vicious Practice in us, to give the least Encouragement but where we design to come to a Conclusion. For 'tis an unreasonable thing[Pg 125] to engage a Man in a Disease, which we beforehand resolve we never will apply a Cure to.
Lady Brute. But really, it’s a harmful practice on our part to give even the slightest encouragement unless we intend to reach a conclusion. It’s unreasonable to involve a man in a problem that we have already determined we will never try to fix. [Pg 125]
Bel. 'Tis true; but then a Woman must abandon one of the supreme Blessings of her Life. For I am fully convinc'd, no Man has half that Pleasure in possessing a Mistress, as a Woman has in jilting a Gallant.
Bel. It's true; but then a woman has to give up one of the greatest blessings of her life. Because I'm fully convinced that no man enjoys having a mistress as much as a woman enjoys rejecting a suitor.
Lady Brute. The happiest Woman then on Earth must be our Neighbour.
Lady Brute. The happiest woman on Earth right now must be our neighbor.
Bel. O the impertinent Composition! She has Vanity and Affectation enough to make her a ridiculous Original, in spite of all that Art and Nature ever furnish'd to any of her Sex before her.
Bel. Oh, what a ridiculous mix! She has so much vanity and pretentiousness that it makes her a laughable original, despite everything that art and nature have ever provided to any woman before her.
Lady Brute. She concludes all Men her Captives; and whatever Course they take, it serves to confirm her in that Opinion.
Lady Brute. She sees all men as her captives, and whatever path they choose only strengthens her belief in that.
Bel. If they shun her, she thinks 'tis Modesty, and takes it for a Proof of their Passion.
Bel. If they avoid her, she believes it's modesty and takes it as a sign of their love.
Lady Brute. And if they are rude to her, 'tis Conduct, and done to prevent Town-talk.
Lady Brute. And if they are rude to her, it’s just behavior, meant to avoid gossip.
Bel. When her Folly makes 'em laugh; she thinks they are pleased with her Wit.
Bel. When her foolishness makes them laugh, she thinks they are impressed by her cleverness.
Lady Brute. And when her Impertinence makes 'em dull, concludes they are jealous of her Favours.
Lady Brute. And when her rudeness makes them boring, she thinks they are jealous of her attention.
Bel. All their Actions and their Words, she takes for granted, aim at her.
Bel. She assumes all their actions and words are directed at her.
Lady Brute. And pities all other Women, because she thinks they envy her.
Lady Brute. And she feels sorry for all other women because she believes they envy her.
Bel. Pray, out of pity to ourselves, let us find a better Subject; for I'm weary of this. Do you think your Husband inclined to Jealousy?
Bel. Please, for the sake of our sanity, let's find a better topic; I'm tired of this. Do you think your husband is prone to jealousy?
Lady Brute. O, no; he does not love me well enough for that. Lord, how wrong Men's Maxims are! They are seldom jealous of their Wives, unless they are very fond of 'em; whereas they ought to consider the Women's Inclinations; for there depends their Fate. Well, Men may talk; But they are not so wise as we——that's certain.
Lady Brute. Oh, no; he doesn't love me enough for that. It's amazing how wrong men's beliefs are! They're rarely jealous of their wives unless they're really into them; when they should really think about what women want, because that's what determines their fate. Well, men can say whatever they want, but they're not as smart as we are—that's for sure.
Bel. At least in our Affairs.
Bel. At least in our business.
Lady Brute. Nay, I believe we shou'd out-do 'em in[Pg 126] the Business of the State too: For, methinks, they do and undo, and make but bad Work on't.
Lady Brute. No, I think we should outdo them in[Pg 126] the business of the state too: Because, it seems to me, they handle it poorly and just mess things up.
Bel. Why then don't we get into the Intrigues of Government as well as they?
Bel. So why don’t we dive into the government intrigues just like they do?
Lady Brute. Because we have Intrigues of our own, that make us more Sport, Child. And so let's in and consider of 'em.
Lady Brute. Because we have our own intrigues that give us more fun, dear. So let's go in and think about them.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
SCENE, A Dressing-Room.
Enter Lady Fancyfull, Madamoiselle, and Cornet.
Enter Lady Fancyfull, Mademoiselle, and Cornet.
Lady Fan. How do I look this Morning?
Lady Fan. How do I look this morning?
Cor. Your Ladyship looks very ill, truly.
Cor. You look really unwell, my lady.
Lady Fan. Lard, how ill-natur'd thou art, Cornet, to tell me so, tho' the thing shou'd be true! Don't you know that I have Humility enough to be but too easily out of Conceit with myself? Hold the Glass; I dare swear that will have more Manners than you have. Madamoiselle, let me have your Opinion too.
Lady Fan. Wow, how rude you are, Cornet, to say that to me, even if it might be true! Don’t you know that I’m humble enough to doubt myself easily? Hold the mirror; I’m sure it will have better manners than you. Madamoiselle, I’d like to hear your opinion too.
Madam. My opinion pe, Matam, dat your Latyship never look so well in your Life.
Madam. I just want to say, Madam, that you have never looked better in your life.
Lady Fan. Well, the French are the prettiest, obliging People; they say the most acceptable, well-manner'd things—and never flatter.
Lady Fan. Well, the French are the most beautiful, accommodating people; they say the most charming, polite things—and never use flattery.
Madam. Your Latyship say great Justice inteed.
Madam. Your Ladyship speaks of great justice indeed.
Lady Fan. Nay, every thing's just in my House but Cornet. The very Looking-Glass gives her the Dementi. But I'm almost afraid it flatters me, it makes me look so very engaging.
Lady Fan. No, everything in my house is perfect except for Cornet. Even the mirror makes her feel delusional. But I’m almost worried that it flatters me too much; it makes me look really charming.
[Looking affectedly in the Glass.
Looking dramatically in the mirror.
Madam. Inteed, Matam, your face pe handsomer den all de Looking-Glass in de World, croyez moy.
Madam. Indeed, Madam, your face is more beautiful than all the mirrors in the world, believe me.
Lady Fan. But is it possible my Eyes can be so languishing—and so very full of Fire?
Lady Fan. But is it really possible for my eyes to look so tired—and yet be so full of passion?
Madam. Matam, if de Glass was Burning-Glass, I believe your Eyes set de Fire in de House.
Madam. Matam, if the glass was a burning lens, I believe your eyes would set the house on fire.
Lady Fan. You may take that Night-gown, Madamoiselle; get out of the Room, Cornet; I can't endure you. This Wench, methinks, does look so unsufferably ugly.
Lady Fan. You can take that nightgown, Madamoiselle; get out of the room, Cornet; I can't stand you. This girl, I think, looks really unbearable ugly.
Madam. Every ting look ugly, Matam, dat stand by your Latyship.
Madam. Everything looks awful, madam, that stands by your ladyship.
Lady Fan. No really, Madamoiselle, methinks you look mighty pretty.
Lady Fan. No really, Mademoiselle, I think you look very pretty.
Madam. Ah Matam! de Moon have no Eclat ven de Sun appear.
Madam. Oh Matam! The moon has no shine when the sun is out.
Lady Fan. O pretty Expression! Have you ever been in Love, Madamoiselle?
Lady Fan. Oh, what a lovely expression! Have you ever been in love, Mademoiselle?
Madam. Ouy, Matame.
Ma'am. Ouy, kill me.
[Sighing.
[Exhaling deeply.
Lady Fan. And were you belov'd again?
Lady Fan. And were you loved again?
Madam. Non, Matame.
Ma'am. No, kill me.
Lady Fan. O ye Gods! What an unfortunate Creature shou'd I be in such a Case! But Nature has made me nice, for my own Defence: I'm nice, strangely nice, Madamoiselle; I believe were the Merit of whole Mankind bestow'd upon one single Person, I shou'd still think the Fellow wanted something to make it worth my while to take notice of him; and yet I could love; nay, fondly love, were it possible to have a thing made on purpose for me: For I'm not cruel, Madamoiselle; I'm only nice.
Lady Fan. Oh my God! What an unfortunate person I would be in a situation like this! But Nature has made me picky, for my own protection: I'm picky, really picky, Madamoiselle; I believe if all of humanity's worth were given to one single person, I would still think that person lacked something to make me interested in them; and yet I could love; yes, deeply love, if it were possible to have something created just for me: Because I'm not cruel, Madamoiselle; I'm just picky.
Madam. Ah Matam, I wish I was fine Gentleman for your sake. I do all de ting in de World to get leetel way into your Heart. I make Song, I make Verse, I give you de Serenade, I give great many Present to Madamoiselle; I no eat, I no sleep, I be lean, I be mad, I hang myself, I drown myself. Ah ma chere Dame, que je vous aimerois!
Ma'am. Ah Matam, I wish I were a fine gentleman for your sake. I do everything in the world to find a little way into your heart. I write songs, I compose verses, I give you serenades, I offer many gifts to Mademoiselle; I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I’m getting thin, I’m going crazy, I might hang myself, I might drown myself. Ah my dear lady, how I would love you!
[Embracing her.
[Hugging her.
Lady Fan. Well, the French have strange obliging ways with 'em; you may take those two pair of Gloves, Madamoiselle.
Lady Fan. Well, the French have odd ways of being accommodating; you can take those two pairs of gloves, Madamoiselle.
Madam. Me humbly tanke my sweet Lady.
Madam. I humbly thank my sweet Lady.
Enter Cornet.
Enter Cornet.
Cor. Madam, here's a Letter for your Ladyship by the Penny Post.
Cor. Ma'am, here's a letter for you from the postal service.
Lady Fan. Some new Conquest, I'll warrant you. For without Vanity, I look'd extremely clear last Night when I went to the Park.—O agreeable! Here's a new Song made of me: And ready set too. O thou welcome thing! [Kissing it.] Call Pipe hither, she shall sing it instantly.
Lady Fan. I bet it's some new conquest. Because without a hint of vanity, I looked pretty great last night when I went to the park. —Oh, how delightful! Here's a new song about me: And it's ready to go. Oh, you wonderful thing! [Kissing it.] Bring Pipe here; she should sing it right away.
Enter Pipe.
Enter Pipe.
Here, sing me this new Song, Pipe.
Here, sing me this new song, Pipe.
Avoid Philira's Charms; The Rigour of her Heart denies
The Heaven that's in her Arms.
Never hope to look, and then walk away, Nor giving in, to be blessed; Nature, who created her Eyes of Fire,
Her heart was made of ice.
The gods, unfortunately, trick your youth, Their heaven consists of love. Despite all the gratitude you owe,
You can reproach them for this; That’s where they gave their Form. They have denied their Bliss.
Lady Fan. Well, there may be Faults, Madamoiselle, but the Design is so very obliging, 'twou'd be a matchless Ingratitude in me to discover 'em.
Lady Fan. Well, there might be some flaws, Madamoiselle, but the design is so gracious that it would be a terrible ingratitude for me to point them out.
Madam. Ma foy, Madame, I tink de Gentleman's Song tell you de Trute. If you never love, you never be happy—Ah—que l'aime l'amour moy!
Madam. Ah my, Madame, I think the Gentleman's Song tells you the truth. If you never love, you'll never be happy—Ah—what love does to me!
Enter Servant with another Letter.
Enter Servant with another letter.
Ser. Madam, here's another Letter for your Ladyship.
Ser. Ma'am, here's another letter for you.
Lady Fan. 'Tis this way I am importun'd every Morn[Pg 129]ing, Madamoiselle. Pray how do the French Ladies when they are thus accablées?
Lady Fan. This is how I’m bothered every Morning[Pg 129], Madamoiselle. How do the French ladies handle it when they are so overwhelmed?
Madam. Matam, dey never complain. Au contraire, when one Frense Laty have got hundred Lover—den she do all she can—to get a hundred more.
Madam. Matam, they never complain. On the contrary, when a French lady has a hundred lovers—then she does everything she can—to get a hundred more.
Lady Fan. Well, strike me dead, I think they have le Gout bon. For 'tis an unutterable Pleasure to be ador'd by all the Men, and envy'd by all the Women——Yet I'll swear I'm concern'd at the Torture I give 'em. Lard, why was I form'd to make the whole Creation uneasy! But let me read my Letter. [Reads.]
Lady Fan. Well, I can't believe it, I think they have le Gout bon. Because it’s such an unbelievable pleasure to be adored by all the men and envied by all the women——Yet I swear I feel bad about the torture I put them through. Goodness, why was I created to make everyone so uncomfortable! But let me read my letter. [Reads.]
"If you have a mind to hear of your Faults, instead of being prais'd for your Virtues, take the pains to walk in the Green-walk in St. James's with your Woman an Hour hence. You'll there meet one, who hates you for some things, as he cou'd love you for others, and therefore is willing to endeavour your Reformation.——If you come to the Place I mention, you'll know who I am: If you don't, you never shall: so take your Choice."
"If you want to hear about your faults instead of being praised for your virtues, take the time to walk in the Green Walk in St. James's with your woman an hour from now. You'll meet someone there who dislikes you for some reasons, but could appreciate you for others, and is therefore willing to help you improve. If you go to the place I mentioned, you'll know who I am; if you don't, you never will. So it's up to you."
This is strangely familiar, Madamoiselle; now have I a provoking Fancy to know who this impudent Fellow is.
This feels oddly familiar, Mademoiselle; now I have a strong urge to find out who this bold guy is.
Madam. Den take your Scarf and your Mask, and go to de Rendezvous. De Frense Laty do justement comme ça.
Ma'am. Take your scarf and your mask, and go to the meeting spot. The French lady does exactly like that.
Lady Fan. Rendezvous! What, rendezvous with a Man, Madamoiselle!
Lady Fan. Meeting up! What, meeting up with a guy, Madamoiselle!
Madam. Eh, pourquoy non?
Madam. Uh, why not?
Lady Fan. What, and a Man perhaps I never saw in my Life?
Lady Fan. What, and a man I might have never seen in my life?
Madam. Tant mieux: c'est donc quelque chose de nouveau.
Madam. That's great: so it's something new.
Lady Fan. Why, how do I know what Designs he may have? He may intend to ravish me, for aught I know.
Lady Fan. Well, how am I supposed to know what plans he has? For all I know, he might be planning to assault me.
Madam. Ravish!—Bagatelle. I would fain see one impudent Rogue ravish Madamoiselle: Ouy, je le voudrois.
Ma'am. Wow!—Triviality. I really want to see one bold guy take advantage of Miss: Oh yes, I wish that.
Lady Fan..O, but my Reputation, Madamoiselle! my Reputation! Ah ma chere Reputation!
Lady Fan. O, but my reputation, Madamoiselle! my reputation! Ah my dear reputation!
Madam. [Pg 130]Madame—Quand on la une fois perdue—On n'en est plus embarassée.
Madam. [Pg 130]Madame—Once lost—you're no longer troubled by it.
Lady Fan. Fe, Madamoiselle, Fe! Reputation is a Jewel.
Lady Fan. Fe, Mademoiselle, Fe! Reputation is a gem.
Madam. Qui coute bien chere, Madame.
Ma'am. It costs a lot, ma'am.
Lady Fan. Why sure you would not sacrifice your Honour to your Pleasure?
Lady Fan. Of course, you wouldn’t trade your Honor for your Pleasure, would you?
Madam. Je suis Philosophe.
Ma'am. I'm a Philosopher.
Lady Fan. Bless me, how you talk! Why, what if Honour be a Burden, Madamoiselle, must it not be borne?
Lady Fan. Wow, the way you speak! But really, if Honour is a Burden, Madamoiselle, doesn’t it have to be carried?
Madam. Chaqu'un a sa façon—Quand quelque chose m'incommode moy—je m'en defais vite.
Madam. Everyone has their own way—When something bothers me—I get rid of it quickly.
Lady Fan. Get you gone, you little naughty French-woman, you; I vow and swear I must turn you out of doors, if you talk thus.
Lady Fan. Get out of here, you little naughty French woman, I swear I have to kick you out if you keep talking like that.
Madam. Turn me out of doors!—--Turn yourself out of doors, and go see what de Gentleman have to say to you—Tenez. Voila [Giving her her things hastily.] vostre Esharpe, voila vostre Quoife, voila vostre Masque, voila tout. Hey, Mercure, Coquin: Call one Chair for Matam, and one oder [Calling within.] for me: Va t'en vite. [Turning to her Lady, and helping her on hastily with her things.] Allons, Madame, depechez vous donc. Mon Dieu, quelles Scrupules!
Madam. Kick me out!—Kick yourself out and go see what the gentleman has to say to you—Here you go. There [Handing her her things quickly.] Your scarf, here’s your cap, here’s your mask, everything. Hey, Mercury, rascal: Get a chair for Madam, and one more [Calling from inside.] for me: Hurry up. [Turning to her Lady and helping her put on her things quickly.] Come on, Madame, hurry up then. My God, what hesitations!
Lady Fan. Well, for once, Madamoiselle, I'll follow your Advice, out of the intemperate Desire I have to know who this ill-bred Fellow is. But I have too much Delicatesse, to make a Practice on't.
Lady Fan. Well, for once, Mademoiselle, I'll take your advice, driven by an overwhelming curiosity to find out who this rude guy is. But I have too much delicateness to make a habit of it.
Madam. Belle chose vrayment que la Delicatesse, lors qu'il s'agit de se devertir—à ça—Vous voila equipés, partons.—He bien!—qu'avez vous donc?
Madam. Belle really prefers delicacy when it comes to having fun—so—you are all set, let's go.—Well!—What’s the matter with you?
Lady Fan. J'ay peur.
Lady Fan. I'm scared.
Madam. Je n'en ay point moy.
Ma'am. I don't have any.
Lady Fan. I dare not go.
Lady Fan. I'm too scared to go.
Madam. Demeurez donc.
Ma'am. Please stay.
Lady Fan. Je suis poltrone.
Lady Fan. I'm a coward.
Madam. Tant pis pour vous.
Ma'am. Too bad for you.
Lady Fan. Curiosity's a wicked Devil.
Lady Fan. Curiosity is a wicked devil.
Madam. C'est une charmante Sainte.
Ma'am. She’s a lovely Saint.
Lady Fan. It ruined our first Parents.
Lady Fan. It destroyed our first parents.
Madam. Elle a bien diverti leurs Enfans.
Ma'am. She entertained their kids well.
Lady Fan. L'Honneur est contre.
Lady Fan. Honor is against.
Madam. La Plaisir est pour.
Madam. The pleasure is for.
Lady Fan. Must I then go?
Lady Fan. Must I leave now?
Madam. Must you go?—Must you eat, must you drink, must you sleep, must you live? De Nature bid you do one, de Nature bid you do toder. Vous me ferez enrager.
Madam. Do you really have to leave?—Do you have to eat, drink, sleep, and live? Nature compels you to do one, Nature compels you to do the other. You’re going to drive me crazy.
Lady Fan. But when Reason corrects Nature, Madamoiselle——
Lady Fan. But when Reason corrects Nature, Madamoiselle——
Madam. Elle est donc bien insolente, c'est sa Sœur aisnée.
Madam. So she's really bold; she's her older sister.
Lady Fan. Do you then prefer your Nature to your Reason, Madamoiselle?
Lady Fan. Do you prefer your instincts over your logic, Miss?
Madam. Ouy da.
Madam. Ouy da.
Lady Fan. Pourquoy?
Lady Fan. Why?
Madam. Because my Nature make me merry, my Reason make me mad.
Madam. My nature makes me happy, but my reason drives me crazy.
Lady Fan. Ah la mechante Françoise!
Lady Fan. Oh the wicked Françoise!
Madam. Ah la belle Angloise!
Madam. Ah, the beautiful English woman!
[Forcing her Lady off.
Forcing her lady out.
ACT II.
SCENE, St. James's Park.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Mademoiselle.
Lady Fan. Well, I vow, Madamoiselle, I'm strangely impatient to know who this confident Fellow is.
Lady Fan. Well, I swear, Madamoiselle, I'm oddly eager to find out who this self-assured guy is.
Enter Heartfree.
Join Heartfree.
Look, there's Heartfree. But sure it can't be him; he's a profess'd Woman-hater. Yet who knows what my wicked Eyes may have done?
Look, there's Heartfree. But it can't actually be him; he's a self-proclaimed woman-hater. Yet who knows what my wicked eyes might have done?
Madam. Il nous approche, Madame.
Madam. He's coming towards us, Madam.
Lady Fan. Yes, 'tis he: now will he be most intolerably cavalier, tho' he should be in love with me.
Lady Fan. Yes, it's him: now he will be so annoyingly arrogant, even if he is in love with me.
Heart. Madam, I'm your humble Servant; I per[Pg 132]ceive you have more Humility and Good-Nature than I thought you had.
Heart. Madam, I'm your humble servant; I perceive you have more humility and kindness than I thought you did.
Lady Fan. What you attribute to Humility and Good-Nature, Sir, may perhaps be only due to Curiosity. I had a mind to know who 'twas had ill manners enough to write that Letter.
Lady Fan. What you think is Humility and Good-Nature, Sir, might just be Curiosity. I wanted to find out who had the bad manners to write that letter.
[Throwing him his Letter.
[Handing him his letter.
Heart. Well, and now I hope you are satisfy'd.
Heart. Well, I hope you're satisfied now.
Lady Fan. I am so, Sir: Good by t'ye.
Lady Fan. I really am, Sir: Goodbye to you.
Heart. Nay, hold there; tho' you have done your Business, I han't done mine: By your Ladyship's leave, we must have one Moment's Prattle together. Have you a mind to be the prettiest Woman about Town, or not? How she stares upon me! What! this passes for an impertinent Question with you now, because you think you are so already?
Heart. No, wait; even though you've finished your work, I haven't finished mine. With your permission, we need to have a quick chat. Do you want to be the prettiest woman in town, or not? Look at the way she’s staring at me! What? You think this seems like a rude question because you believe you already are?
Lady Fan. Pray, Sir, let me ask you a Question in my Turn: By what Right do you pretend to examine me?
Lady Fan. Please, Sir, may I ask you a question in return: What gives you the right to interrogate me?
Heart. By the same Right that the strong govern the weak, because I have you in my power; for you cannot get so quickly to your Coach, but I shall have time enough to make you hear every thing I have to say to you.
Heart. Just like the strong have control over the weak, I have power over you; you won't be able to reach your coach quickly enough, which gives me plenty of time to tell you everything I want to say.
Lady Fan. These are strange Liberties you take, Mr. Heartfree.
Lady Fan. These are unusual liberties you're taking, Mr. Heartfree.
Heart. They are so, Madam, but there's no help for it; for know that I have a Design upon you.
Heart. They are, Madam, but there's nothing we can do about it; just know that I have a plan for you.
Lady Fan. Upon me, Sir!
Lady Fan. Here I am, Sir!
Heart. Yes; and one that will turn to your Glory, and my Comfort, if you will but be a little wiser than you use to be.
Heart. Yes; and one that will lead to your Glory, and my Comfort, if you can be a bit wiser than you usually are.
Lady Fan. Very well, Sir.
Lady Fan. Sure thing, Sir.
Heart. Let me see——Your Vanity, Madam, I take to be about some eight Degrees higher than any Woman's in the Town, let t'other be who she will; and my Indifference is naturally about the same Pitch. Now, could you find the way to turn this Indifference into Fire and Flames, methinks your Vanity ought to be satisfy'd; and this, perhaps, you might bring about upon pretty reasonable Terms.
Heart. Let me see——Your Vanity, Madam, I think is about eight degrees higher than any woman's in town, no matter who she is; and my Indifference is roughly on the same level. Now, if you could figure out how to turn this Indifference into Fire and Flames, it seems to me your Vanity would be satisfied; and perhaps you could achieve this on pretty reasonable terms.
Lady Fan. And pray at what rate would this Indifference be bought off, if one shou'd have so depraved an Appetite to desire it?
Lady Fan. And I wonder at what cost this indifference could be purchased if someone had such a twisted desire for it?
Heart. Why, Madam, to drive a Quaker's Bargain, and make but one word with you, if I do part with it—you must lay me down—your Affectation.
Heart. Why, Madam, to make a deal with a Quaker and keep it simple—if I let it go—you have to give me up—your pretense.
Lady Fan. My Affectation, Sir!
Lady Fan. My Obsession, Sir!
Heart. Why, I ask you nothing but what you may very well spare.
Heart. Why, I'm only asking you for something you can easily do without.
Lady Fan. You grow rude, Sir. Come, Madamoiselle, 'tis high time to be gone.
Lady Fan. You're getting rude, Sir. Come on, Mademoiselle, it’s time to leave.
Madam. Allons, allons, allons.
Ma'am. Let's go, let's go, let's go.
Heart. [Stopping them.] Nay, you may as well stand still; for hear me you shall, walk which way you please.
Heart. [Stopping them.] No, you might as well not move; because you will hear me, no matter which way you go.
Lady Fan. What mean you, Sir?
Lady Fan. What do you mean, Sir?
Heart. I mean to tell you, that you are the most ungrateful Woman upon Earth.
Heart. I have to say, you are the most ungrateful woman on Earth.
Lady Fan. Ungrateful! To whom?
Lady Fan. Ungrateful! To who?
Heart. To Nature.
Heart. To Nature.
Lady Fan. Why, what has Nature done for me?
Lady Fan. What has Nature done for me?
Heart. What you have undone by Art! It made you handsome; it gave you Beauty to a Miracle, a Shape without a Fault, Wit enough to make them relish, and so turn'd you loose to your own Discretion; which has made such work with you, that you are become the Pity of our Sex, and the Jest of your own. There is not a Feature in your Face, but you have found the way to teach it some affected Convulsion; your Feet, your Hands, your very Fingers Ends are directed never to move without some ridiculous Air or other; and your Language is a suitable Trumpet, to draw people's Eyes upon the Raree-show.
Heart. Look at what Art has done to you! It made you attractive; it gave you a beauty that’s almost miraculous, a flawless shape, and enough charm to impress others, and then set you free to your own choices; which has messed with you so much that you’ve become the laughingstock of our gender and the punchline of your own. Every feature of your face shows some silly twitch you’ve taught it; your feet, your hands, even the tips of your fingers move in a way that always has some ridiculous flair or another; and your words are like a trumpet, drawing people’s eyes to your spectacle.
Madam. [aside] Est ce qu'on fait l'amour en Angleterre comme ça?
Ma'am. [aside] Is sex done like this in England?
Lady Fan. [Aside.] Now cou'd I cry for Madness, but that I know he'd laugh at me for it.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] Now I could cry out in insanity, but I know he’d just laugh at me for it.
Heart. Now do you hate me for telling you the Truth, but that's because you don't believe it is so; for were you once convinc'd of that, you'd reform for your own sake. But 'tis as hard to persuade a Woman to quit any[Pg 134] thing that makes her ridiculous, as 'tis to prevail with a Poet to see a Fault in his own Play.
Heart. Do you hate me for telling you the truth? That's because you don't believe it's true; if you were convinced of it, you'd change for your own good. But it's just as difficult to persuade a woman to give up anything that makes her look foolish as it is to get a poet to admit there's a flaw in his own play.
Lady Fan. Every Circumstance of nice Breeding must needs appear ridiculous to one who has so natural an Antipathy to Good-manners.
Lady Fan. Everything about proper etiquette must seem completely absurd to someone who has such a natural dislike for good manners.
Heart. But suppose I could find the means to convince you, that the whole World is of my Opinion, and that those who flatter and commend you, do it to no other Intent, but to make you persevere in your Folly, that they may continue in their Mirth.
Heart. But what if I could persuade you that everyone else shares my view, and that those who praise and compliment you do so only to keep you stuck in your foolishness, so they can keep enjoying themselves?
Lady Fan. Sir, tho' you and all that World you talk of shou'd be so impertinently officious, as to think to persuade me I don't know how to behave myself; I shou'd still have Charity enough for my own Understanding, to believe myself in the right, and all you in the wrong.
Lady Fan. Sir, even if you and everyone else you talk about are so annoyingly meddlesome as to think you can convince me that I don’t know how to carry myself, I would still have enough faith in my own judgment to believe that I’m right and you are all wrong.
Madam. Le voila mort.
Ma'am. There he is dead.
[Exeunt Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
[Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle exit.
Heart. [Gazing after her.] There her single Clapper has publish'd the Sense of the whole Sex. Well, this once I have endeavour'd to wash the Blackamoor white, but henceforward I'll sooner undertake to teach Sincerity to a Courtier, Generosity to an Usurer, Honesty to a Lawyer, nay, Humility to a Divine, than Discretion to a Woman I see has once set her Heart upon playing the Fool.
Heart. [Watching her leave.] There, her single Clapper has revealed the thoughts of all women. Alright, this once I tried to change the nature of the impossible, but from now on, I’d rather try to teach honesty to a lawyer, generosity to a moneylender, or humility to a clergyman than attempt to convince a woman who has decided to act foolishly to show any sense.
Enter Constant.
Enter Constant.
'Morrow, Constant.
Tomorrow, Constant.
Const. Good-morrow, Jack! What are you doing here this Morning?
Const. Good morning, Jack! What are you doing here this morning?
Heart. Doing! Guess, if thou canst.——Why I have been endeavouring to persuade my Lady Fancyfull, that she's the foolishest Woman about Town.
Heart. Doing! Guess if you can.——I've been trying to convince my Lady Fancyfull that she's the silliest woman in town.
Const. A pretty Endeavour, truly!
A lovely endeavor, truly!
Heart. I have told her in as plain English as I could speak, both what the Town says of her, and what I think of her. In short, I have us'd her as an absolute King would do Magna Charta.
Heart. I've told her as clearly as I could what the town thinks of her and what I think of her. In short, I've treated her like an absolute king would treat Magna Charta.
Const. And how does she take it?
Const. And how is she handling it?
Heart. As Children do Pills; bite them, but can't swallow them.
Heart. Just like kids with pills; they bite them, but can’t swallow them.
Const. But, pr'ythee, what has put it into your Head, of all Mankind, to turn Reformer?
Const. But, please tell me, what made you think that you should be the one to become a Reformer among all people?
Heart. Why one thing was, the Morning hung upon my Hands, I did not know what to do with myself; and another was, that as little as I care for Women, I cou'd not see with Patience one that Heaven had taken such wondrous Pains about, be so very industrious to make herself the Jack-pudding of the Creation.
Heart. I didn't know what to do with myself as I was stuck in the morning; and even though I don't have much interest in women, I couldn't stand to see one that Heaven had gone to such great lengths for, working so hard to make herself the clown of the world.
Const. Well, now could I almost wish to see my cruel Mistress make the self-same Use of what Heaven has done for her, that so I might be cur'd of a Disease that makes me so very uneasy; for Love, Love is the Devil, Heartfree.
Const. Well, now I could almost wish to see my cruel Mistress use what Heaven has given her in the same way, so I might be cured of a disease that makes me so uneasy; for love, love is the devil, Heartfree.
Heart. And why do you let the Devil govern you?
Heart. And why do you let the Devil control you?
Const. Because I have more Flesh and Blood than Grace and Self-denial. My dear, dear Mistress! 'S death! that so genteel a Woman should be a Saint, when Religion's out of Fashion!
Const. Because I have more flesh and blood than grace and self-denial. My dear, dear Mistress! For heaven's sake! It's unbelievable that such a classy woman could be a saint when religion isn't in style anymore!
Heart. Nay, she's much in the wrong, truly; but who knows how far Time and good Example may prevail?
Heart. No, she's really mistaken; but who knows how much Time and good Example can change things?
Const. O! they have play'd their Parts in vain already: 'Tis now two Years since that damned Fellow her Husband invited me to his Wedding; and there was the first time I saw that charming Woman, whom I have lov'd ever since, more than e'er a Martyr did his Soul; but she is cold, my Friend, still cold as the Northern Star.
Const. Oh! They’ve already played their parts in vain: It’s been two years since that cursed guy, her husband, invited me to his wedding; and that was the first time I saw that amazing woman, whom I have loved ever since, more than any martyr loved his soul; but she is distant, my friend, still as cold as the Northern Star.
Heart. So are all Women by Nature, which makes them so willing to be warm'd.
Heart. All women are naturally this way, which makes them so eager to be loved.
Const. O don't prophane the Sex! Pr'ythee, think them all Angels for her sake; for she's virtuous even to a Fault.
Const. Oh, don't disrespect the women! Please, think of them as all being angels for her sake, because she's virtuous to a fault.
Heart. A Lover's Head is a good accountable Thing truly; he adores his Mistress for being virtuous, and yet is very angry with her because she won't be lewd.
Heart. A Lover's Head is a good accountable thing, truly; he adores his mistress for being virtuous, and yet he is very angry with her because she won't be promiscuous.
Const. Well, the only Relief I expect in my Misery, is to see thee some Day or other as deeply engag'd as myself, which will force me to be merry in the midst of all my Misfortunes.
Const. Well, the only relief I expect from my misery is to see you someday as deeply involved as I am, which will force me to be happy in the midst of all my misfortunes.
Heart. That Day will never come, be assur'd, Ned. Not but that I can pass a Night with a Woman, and for[Pg 136] the time, perhaps; make myself as good Sport as you can do. Nay, I can court a Woman too, call her Nymph, Angel, Goddess, what you please: But here's the Difference 'twixt you and I; I persuade a Woman she's an Angel, and she persuades you she's one. Pr'ythee, let me tell you how I avoid falling in Love; that which serves me for Prevention, may chance to serve you for a Cure.
Heart. That day will never come, trust me, Ned. It's not that I can't spend a night with a woman and, for the time being, have as good a time as you do. In fact, I can flirt with a woman too, call her a nymph, angel, goddess, whatever you want. But here's the difference between you and me: I convince a woman she's an angel, and she convinces you she's one. Let me tell you how I avoid falling in love; what works for prevention might just work for you as a cure.
Const. Well, use the Ladies moderately then, and I'll hear you.
Const. Okay, just use the Ladies in moderation, and I'll listen to you.
Heart. That using them moderately undoes us all; but I'll use them justly, and that you ought to be satisfied with. I always consider a Woman, not as the Taylor, the Shoemaker, the Tire-woman, the Sempstress, and (which is more than all that) the Poet makes her; but I consider her as pure Nature has contrived her, and that more strictly than I shou'd have done our old Grandmother Eve, had I seen her naked in the Garden; for I consider her turn'd inside out. Her Heart well examin'd, I find there Pride, Vanity, Covetousness, Indiscretion, but above all things, Malice; plots eternally a-forging to destroy one another's Reputations, and as honestly to charge the Levity of Men's Tongues with the Scandal; hourly Debates how to make poor Gentlemen in love with them, with no other Intent but to use them like Dogs when they have done; a constant Desire of doing more Mischief, and an everlasting War wag'd against Truth and Good-Nature.
Heart. Using them moderately brings us all down; but I'll use them fairly, and you should be satisfied with that. I always see a woman, not as the tailor, the shoemaker, the tire-woman, the seamstress, and (which is even more than all that) what the poet makes her; but I see her as pure Nature created her, and that even more closely than I would have regarded our old Grandmother Eve, had I seen her naked in the Garden; because I see her turned inside out. Upon examining her heart, I find there Pride, Vanity, Greed, Indiscretion, but above all, Malice; constantly scheming to ruin each other’s reputations, and just as honestly blaming the gossip of men; ongoing debates about how to make poor gentlemen fall in love with them, with no other intent but to treat them like dogs once they’ve served their purpose; a constant desire to cause more harm, and an unending war waged against Truth and Kindness.
Const. Very well, Sir! An admirable Composition, truly!
Const. Very well, Sir! That’s a remarkable piece, really!
Heart. Then for her Outside, I consider it merely as an Outside; she has a thin Tiffany Covering over just such Stuff as you and I are made on. As for her Motion, her Mien, her Airs, and all those Tricks, I know they affect you mightily. If you should see your Mistress at a Coronation dragging her Peacock's Train, with all her State and Insolence about her, 'twou'd strike you with all the awful Thoughts that Heav'n itself could pretend to from you; whereas I turn the whole Matter into a Jest, and suppose her strutting in the self-same stately Manner,[Pg 137] with nothing on her but her Stays and her under scanty quilted Petticoat.
Heart. For her, I see the Outside as just that—an Outside; she has a thin Tiffany Covering over the same Stuff that you and I are made of. Regarding her Movement, her Presence, her Attitude, and all those Ways, I know they impress you greatly. If you were to see your Lady at a Coronation, dragging her Peacock's Train, with all her Dignity and Arrogance around her, it would fill you with all the heavy Thoughts that Heaven itself could conjure for you; meanwhile, I just make a Joke of the whole Thing and imagine her strutting in the exact same grand Way,[Pg 137] with nothing on but her Corset and her short quilted Petticoat.
Const. Hold thy profane Tongue; for I'll hear no more.
Const. Be quiet; I don't want to hear any more.
Heart. What, you'll love on, then?
Heart. What, you'll keep loving?
Const. Yes, to Eternity.
Yes, to Eternity.
Heart. Yet you have no hopes at all?
Heart. So you really have no hopes at all?
Const. None.
None.
Heart. Nay, the Resolution may be discreet enough; perhaps you have found out some new Philosophy, that Love, like Virtue, is its own Reward: So you and your Mistress will be as well content at a Distance, as others that have less Learning are in coming together.
Heart. No, the Resolution might be careful enough; maybe you've discovered some new Philosophy, that Love, like Virtue, is its own reward: So you and your Mistress will be just as happy being apart as others with less knowledge are when they come together.
Const. No; but if she should prove kind at last, my dear Heartfree—
No; but if she ends up being kind after all, my dear Heartfree—
[Embracing him.
Hugging him.
Heart. Nay, pr'ythee, don't take me for your Mistress; for Lovers are very troublesome.
Heart. Please, don't think of me as your Mistress; lovers can be very demanding.
Const. Well; who knows what Time may do?
Const. Well, who knows what Time will bring?
Heart. And just now he was sure Time could do nothing.
Heart. And right now, he was certain that Time could do nothing.
Const. Yet not one kind Glance in two Years, is somewhat strange.
Const. Yet not a single friendly glance in two years is quite odd.
Heart. Not strange at all; she don't like you, that's all the Business.
Heart. It's not surprising at all; she doesn't like you, that's all there is to it.
Const. Pr'ythee, don't distract me.
Please, don't distract me.
Heart. Nay, you are a good handsome young Fellow, she might use you better: Come, will you go see her? Perhaps she may have chang'd her Mind; there's some Hopes as long as she's a Woman.
Heart. No, you're a good-looking young guy; she might treat you better. Come on, want to go see her? Maybe she has changed her mind; there’s some hope as long as she’s a woman.
Const. O, 'tis in vain to visit her! Sometimes to get a Sight of her, I visit that Beast her Husband; but she certainly finds some Pretence to quit the Room as soon as I enter.
Const. Oh, it’s pointless to see her! Sometimes to catch a glimpse of her, I go to see that beast of a husband; but she always seems to find an excuse to leave the room as soon as I walk in.
Heart. 'Tis much she don't tell him you have made Love to her too; for that's another good-natur'd thing usual amongst Women, in which they have several Ends. Sometimes 'tis to recommend their Virtue, that they may be lewd with the greater Security. Sometimes 'tis to make their Husbands fight, in hopes they may be kill'd, when their Affairs require it should be so: but most com[Pg 138]monly 'tis to engage two Men in a Quarrel, that they may have the Credit of being fought for; and if the Lover's kill'd in the Business, they cry, Poor Fellow, he had ill Luck——and so they go to Cards.
Heart. She doesn’t tell him that you’ve also made love to her; that’s just another nice thing women often do for various reasons. Sometimes it’s to showcase their virtue so they can act scandalously with less risk. Other times it’s to provoke their husbands into a fight, hoping they might get killed when the situation calls for it. But most commonly, it’s to get two men into a dispute so they can claim they were fought over; and if the lover ends up dead, they say, Poor Fellow, he had bad luck——and then they just go play cards.
Const. Thy Injuries to Women are not to be forgiven. Look to't, if ever thou dost fall into their Hands——
Const. You can't forgive the harm done to women. Be careful if you ever find yourself in their hands—
Heart. They can't use me worse than they do you, that speak well of 'em. O ho! here comes the Knight.
Heart. They can't treat me any worse than they treat you, who speak well of them. Oh look! Here comes the Knight.
Enter Sir John Brute.
Enter Sir John Brute.
Heart. Your humble Servant, Sir John.
Heart. Your humble servant, Sir John.
Sir John. Servant, Sir.
Sir John. Yes, Sir.
Heart. How does all your Family?
Heart. How's your family doing?
Sir John. Pox o' my Family!
Sir John. Curse my Family!
Const. How does your Lady? I han't seen her abroad a good while.
Const. How is your lady doing? I haven't seen her out and about in quite a while.
Sir John. Do! I don't know how she does, not I; she was well enough Yesterday; I han't been at home to-night.
Sir John. Really! I don't know how she does it; she seemed fine yesterday. I haven't been home tonight.
Const. What, were you out of Town?
Const. What, were you out of town?
Sir John. Out of Town! No, I was drinking.
Sir John. Out of Town? No, I was just drinking.
Const. You are a true Englishman; don't know your own Happiness. If I were married to such a Woman, I would not be from her a Night for all the Wine in France.
Const. You’re a real Englishman; you don’t even know your own happiness. If I were married to a woman like that, I wouldn’t leave her side for all the wine in France.
Sir John. Not from her!—--'Oons——what a time should a Man have of that!
Sir John. Not from her!—--'Oh man——what a hassle that would be!
Heart. Why, there's no Division, I hope.
Heart. I hope there’s no divide.
Sir John. No; but there's a Conjunction, and that's worse; a Pox of the Parson——Why the plague don't you two marry? I fancy I look like the Devil to you.
Sir John. No; but there's a Conjunction, and that's worse; a curse on the Parson——Why don't you two just get married? I bet I look like the Devil to you.
Heart. Why, you don't think you have Horns, do you?
Heart. Come on, you don't really think you have horns, do you?
Sir John. No, I believe my Wife's Religion will keep her honest.
Sir John. No, I think my wife's beliefs will keep her true.
Heart. And what will make her keep her Religion?
Heart. And what will make her stick to her beliefs?
Sir John. Persecution; and therefore she shall have it.
Sir John. She's been persecuted, so she'll get it.
Heart. Have a care, Knight! Women are tender things.
Heart. Be careful, Knight! Women are delicate beings.
Sir John. And yet, methinks, 'tis a hard Matter to break their Hearts.
Sir John. And yet, I think it’s a tough thing to break their hearts.
Const. Fy, fy! You have one of the best Wives in the World, and yet you seem the most uneasy Husband.
Const. Shame on you! You have one of the best wives in the world, and yet you seem to be the most anxious husband.
Sir John. Best Wives! The Woman's well enough; she has no Vice that I know of, but she's a Wife, and—damn a Wife! If I were married to a Hogshead of Claret, Matrimony would make me hate it.
Sir John. Best Wives! The woman is fine enough; she doesn't have any flaws that I know of, but she's a wife, and—damn a wife! If I were married to a barrel of Claret, marriage would make me hate it.
Heart. Why did you marry, then? You were old enough to know your own Mind.
Heart. Why did you get married, then? You were old enough to know your own mind.
Sir John. Why did I marry? I married because I had a mind to lie with her, and she would not let me.
Sir John. Why did I get married? I got married because I wanted to sleep with her, and she wouldn't let me.
Heart. Why did you not ravish her?
Heart. Why didn’t you go after her?
Sir John. Yes, and so have hedg'd myself into forty Quarrels with her Relations, besides buying my pardon: But more than all that, you must know, I was afraid of being damn'd in those days: For I kept sneaking, cowardly Company, Fellows that went to Church, said Grace to their Meat, and had not the least Tincture of Quality about them.
Sir John. Yeah, and I've also gotten myself into forty arguments with her family, not to mention having to buy my forgiveness: But more than anything, you should know, I was scared of being condemned back then. I was hanging out with some pretty pathetic people, guys who went to church, said grace before meals, and didn’t have a hint of sophistication about them.
Heart. But I think you are got into a better Gang now?
Heart. But I think you’ve joined a better group now?
Sir John. Zoons, Sir, my Lord Rake and I are Hand and Glove: I believe we may get our Bones broke together to-night; have you a mind to share a Frolick?
Sir John. Zoons, Sir, my Lord Rake and I are thick as thieves: I think we might get in a bit of trouble together tonight; are you up for some fun?
Const. Not I, truly; my Talent lies to softer Exercises.
Const. Not me, really; my skills are more suited to gentler activities.
Sir John. What, a Down-Bed and a Strumpet? A pox of Venery, I say. Will you come and drink with me this Afternoon?
Sir John. What, a down bed and a hooker? A curse on pleasure, I say. Will you come and have a drink with me this afternoon?
Const. I can't drink to-day, but we'll come and sit an Hour with you, if you will.
Const. I can't drink today, but we can come and hang out with you for an hour if you're up for it.
Sir John. Phugh, Pox, sit an Hour! Why can't you drink?
Sir John. Phugh, damn it, sit for a bit! Why can't you drink?
Const. Because I'm to see my Mistress.
Const. Because I'm going to see my Mistress.
Sir John. Who's that?
Sir John. Who's that?
Const. Why, do you use to tell?
Const. Why do you always say that?
Sir John. Yes.
Sir John. Yes.
Const. So won't I.
Won't I either.
Sir John. Why?
Sir John. Why?
Const. Because 'tis a Secret.
Const. Because it's a Secret.
Sir John. Would my Wife knew it, 'twould be no Secret long.
Sir John. If my wife found out, it wouldn't be a secret for long.
Const. Why, do you think she can't keep a Secret?
Const. Why, do you think she can't keep a secret?
Sir John. No more than she can keep Lent.
Sir John. Just like she can’t stick to Lent.
Heart. Pr'ythee, tell it her to try, Constant.
Heart. Please, tell her to give it a try, Constant.
Sir John. No, pr'ythee, don't, that I mayn't be plagu'd with it.
Sir John. No, please don't, so I won't be bothered by it.
Const. I'll hold you a Guinea you don't make her tell it you.
Const. I bet you a Guinea she won't tell you.
Sir John. I'll hold you a Guinea I do.
Sir John. I bet you a Guinea I will.
Const. Which way?
Which way?
Sir John. Why, I'll beg her not to tell it me.
Sir John. Well, I'll ask her not to say anything about it to me.
Heart. Nay, if any thing does it, that will.
Heart. No, if anything will do it, that will.
Const. But do you think, Sir——
Const. But do you think, Sir—
Sir John. Oons, Sir, I think a Woman and a Secret are the two impertinentest Themes in the Universe: Therefore pray let's hear no more of my Wife, nor your Mistress. Damn 'em both with all my heart, and every thing else that daggles a Petticoat, except four generous Whores, with Betty Sands at the Head of 'em, who are drunk with my Lord Rake and I ten times in a Fortnight.
Sir John. Honestly, Sir, I believe a woman and a secret are the two most annoying topics in the world. So please, let’s not talk about my wife or your mistress anymore. I’m fed up with both of them, and everything else that wears a skirt, except for four generous prostitutes, with Betty Sands leading the way, who I’ve been drunk with my Lord Rake and I ten times in two weeks.
[Exit Sir John.
[Exit Sir John.
Const. Here's a dainty Fellow for you! And the veriest Coward too. But his Usage of his Wife makes me ready to stab the Villain.
Const. Here’s a delicate guy for you! And the biggest coward too. But the way he treats his wife makes me want to stab the villain.
Heart. Lovers are short-sighted: All their Senses run into that of Feeling. This Proceeding of his is the only thing on Earth can make your Fortune. If any thing can prevail with her to accept of a Gallant, 'tis his ill Usage of her; for Women will do more for Revenge, than they'll do for the Gospel. Pr'ythee, take heart, I have great hopes for you: And since I can't bring you quite off of her, I'll endeavour to bring you quite on; for a whining Lover is the damn'dest Companion upon Earth.
Heart. Lovers are short-sighted: all their senses focus on feeling. This is the only thing on Earth that can secure your future. If anything can convince her to accept a suitor, it's how badly she’s been treated; women will go to greater lengths for revenge than they will for any cause. Please, take heart, I have high hopes for you. And since I can't completely free you from her, I'll work to completely win you over; a whiny lover is the worst companion on Earth.
Const. My dear Friend, flatter me a little more with these Hopes; for whilst they prevail, I have Heaven within me, and could melt with Joy.
Const. My dear friend, indulge me a bit more with these hopes; as long as they last, I feel a sense of heaven inside me and could burst with joy.
Heart. Pray, no melting yet; let things go farther first. This afternoon, perhaps, we shall make some advance. In the mean while, let's go dine at Locket's, and let Hope get you a Stomach.
Heart. Please, no melting just yet; let's see how things progress first. This afternoon, maybe, we’ll make some progress. In the meantime, let’s go eat at Locket’s, and let Hope give you an appetite.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, Lady Fancyfull's House.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Mademoiselle.
Lady Fan. Did you ever see any thing so importune, Madamoiselle?
Lady Fan. Have you ever seen anything so annoying, Mademoiselle?
Madam. Inteed, Matam, to say de trute, he want leetel Good-breeding.
Ma'am. Indeed, ma'am, to tell the truth, he lacks a bit of good manners.
Lady Fan. Good-breeding! He wants to be caned, Madamoiselle: an insolent Fellow! And yet let me expose my Weakness, 'tis the only Man on Earth I cou'd resolve to dispense my Favours on, were he but a fine Gentleman. Well! did Men but know how deep an Impression a fine Gentleman makes in a Lady's Heart, they would reduce all their Studies to that of Good-breeding alone.
Lady Fan. Good manners! He wants to be punished, Madamoiselle: what a arrogant guy! And yet let me share my weakness, he's the only man on earth I could consider giving my affection to, if only he were a true gentleman. Honestly! If men only understood the powerful impact a true gentleman has on a lady's heart, they would focus all their efforts on mastering good manners.
Enter Cornet.
Enter Cornet.
Cor. Madam, here's Mr. Treble. He has brought home the Verses your Ladyship made, and gave him to set.
Cor. Madam, here’s Mr. Treble. He’s brought back the verses you created and asked him to set.
Lady Fan. O let him come in by all means. Now Madamoiselle, am I going to be unspeakably happy.
Lady Fan. Oh, definitely let him come in. Now Mademoiselle, I’m about to be incredibly happy.
Enter Treble.
Enter Treble.
So, Mr. Treble, you have set my little Dialogue?
So, Mr. Treble, have you set my little Dialogue?
Treb. Yes, Madam, and I hope your Ladyship will be pleased with it.
Treb. Yes, ma'am, and I hope you’ll be happy with it.
Lady Fan. O, no doubt on't; for really, Mr. Treble, you set all things to a wonder: But your Musick is in particular heavenly, when you have my Words to clothe in't.
Lady Fan. Oh, no doubt about it; because honestly, Mr. Treble, you make everything seem amazing: But your music is especially heavenly when you set my words to it.
Treb. Your Words themselves, Madam, have so much Musick in 'em, they inspire me.
Treb. Your words, Madam, have so much music in them; they inspire me.
Lady Fan. Nay, now you make me blush, Mr. Treble; but pray let's hear what you have done.
Lady Fan. No, you're making me blush now, Mr. Treble; but please, tell me what you’ve done.
Treb. You shall, Madam.
Sure thing, Madam.
A SONG, to be sung between a Man and a Woman.
A SONG, to be sung between a Man and a Woman.
Cover up those cruel Eyes:
And brag that this is how it ends.
Who will sing your praises then?
The Gods will raise altars.
Treb. How does your Ladyship like it, Madam?
Treb. How do you like it, ma'am?
Lady Fan. Rapture, Rapture, Mr. Treble! I'm all Rapture! O Wit and Art, what Power have you when join'd! I must needs tell you the Birth of this little Dialogue, Mr. Treble. Its Father was a Dream, and its Mother was the Moon. I dream'd that by an unanimous Vote, I was chosen Queen of that pale World; and that the first time I appear'd upon my Throne——all my Subjects fell in love with me. Just then I wak'd, and seeing Pen, Ink and Paper lie idle upon the Table, I slid into my Morning-Gown, and writ this impromptu.
Lady Fan. Wow, Mr. Treble! I’m so excited! Oh, Wit and Art, what power do you hold when combined! I have to tell you how this little conversation came to be, Mr. Treble. Its father was a dream, and its mother was the moon. I dreamed that I was unanimously elected Queen of that pale world; and the first time I sat on my throne—all my subjects fell in love with me. Just then I woke up, and seeing Pen, Ink, and Paper sitting idle on the table, I put on my morning gown and wrote this impromptu.
Treb. So I guess the Dialogue, Madam, is suppos'd to be between your Majesty and your first Minister of State.
Treb. So I assume the dialogue, Madam, is supposed to be between Your Majesty and your Chief Minister of State.
Lady Fan. Just: He, as Minister, advises me to trouble my Head about the Welfare of my Subjects; which I, as Sovereign, find a very impertinent Proposal. But is the Town so dull, Mr. Treble, it affords us never another new Song?
Lady Fan. Seriously: He, as Minister, suggests I should worry about the well-being of my people; which I, as Sovereign, consider a very rude suggestion. But is the Town really that boring, Mr. Treble, that we never get to hear a new song?
Treb. Madam, I have one in my Pocket, came out but Yesterday, if your Ladyship pleases to let Mrs. Pipe sing it.
Treb. Madam, I have one in my pocket that just came out yesterday. If it’s alright with you, would you let Mrs. Pipe sing it?
Lady Fan. By all means. Here, Pipe, make what Musick you can of this Song, here.
Lady Fan. Of course. Here, Pipe, do your best to play this song here.
But she will never make me die.
*If my Flame can never warm her,*
Timeless Beauty I'll adore;
I will never love her more, Cruelty will totally change her.
Lady Fan. Very well: This is Heartfree's Poetry without question.
Lady Fan. Alright then: This is definitely Heartfree's Poetry.
Treb. Won't your Ladyship please to sing yourself this Morning?
Treb. Would you please sing for us this morning, my Lady?
Lady Fan. O Lord, Mr. Treble, my Cold is still so barbarous to refuse me that Pleasure! He, he, hem.
Lady Fan. Oh dear, Mr. Treble, my cold is still so bad that it won't let me enjoy myself! He, he, hem.
Treb. I'm very sorry for it, Madam: Methinks all Mankind should turn Physicians for the Cure on't.
Treb. I'm really sorry about that, ma'am: I think everyone should step up and try to fix it.
Lady Fan. Why, truly, to give Mankind their due, there's few that know me but have offer'd their Remedy.
Lady Fan. Honestly, to be fair to humanity, there are few who know me that haven't suggested their solution.
Treb. They have reason, Madam; for I know no body sings so near a Cherubim as your Ladyship.
Treb. They have a point, Madam; because I don’t know anyone who sings as close to a Cherubim as you do, my Lady.
Lady Fan. What I do, I owe chiefly to your Skill and Care, Mr. Treble. People do flatter me, indeed, that I have a Voice, and a Je-ne-sçai-quoy in the Conduct of it, that will make Musick of any thing. And truly I begin to believe so, since what happen'd t'other Night: Wou'd you think it, Mr. Treble? Walking pretty late in the Park, (for I often walk late in the Park, Mr Treble) a Whim took me to sing Chevy Chase; and, wou'd you believe it? next Morning I had three Copies of Verses, and six Billet-doux at my Levée upon it.
Lady Fan. What I do, I mostly owe to your talent and attention, Mr. Treble. People do compliment me, for I have a voice and a certain je ne sais quoi in how I use it that can turn anything into music. Honestly, I’m starting to believe it’s true, especially after what happened the other night: Can you believe it, Mr. Treble? While taking a late stroll in the park (because I often walk late in the park, Mr. Treble), I felt inspired to sing Chevy Chase; and would you believe it? The next morning I had three poems and six love notes waiting for me when I got up.
Treb. And without all dispute you deserv'd as many more, Madam. Are there any further Commands for your Ladyship's humble Servant?
Treb. And without a doubt, you deserve even more, Madam. Are there any other requests for your humble servant?
Lady Fan. Nothing more at this Time, Mr. Treble. But I shall expect you here every Morning for this Month, to sing my little Matter there to me. I'll reward you for your Pains.
Lady Fan. Nothing more for now, Mr. Treble. But I expect you here every morning this month to sing my little song to me. I'll reward you for your efforts.
Treb. O Lord, Madam——
Treb. Oh Lord, Madam——
Lady Fan. Good-morrow, sweet Mr. Treble.
Lady Fan. Good morning, sweet Mr. Treble.
Treb. Your Ladyship's most obedient Servant.
Treb. Your Ladyship's most obedient servant.
[Exit Treb.
[Exit Treb.
Enter Servant.
Enter the Servant.
Serv. Will your Ladyship please to dine yet?
Serv. Would your Ladyship like to have dinner now?
Lady Fan. Yes, let 'em serve. [Exit Servant.] Sure this Heartfree has bewitch'd me, Madamoiselle. You can't imagine how oddly he mixt himself in my Thoughts during my Rapture e'en now. I vow 'tis a thousand Pities he is not more polish'd: Don't you think so?
Lady Fan. Yes, let them serve. [Exit Servant.] I'm sure this Heartfree has enchanted me, Madamoiselle. You can't imagine how strangely he occupied my thoughts during my excitement just now. I swear it’s a pity he isn’t more refined: Don’t you think so?
Madam. Matam, I tink it so great pity, dat if I was in your Ladyship place, I take him home in my House, I lock him up in my Closet, and I never let him go till I teach him every ting dat fine Laty expect from fine Gentelman.
Madam. Ma'am, I think it's such a great pity that if I were in your position, I would take him home to my house, lock him up in my closet, and I would never let him go until I taught him everything that a refined lady expects from a fine gentleman.
Lady Fan. Why, truly, I believe I shou'd soon subdue his Brutality; for without doubt, he has a strange Penchant to grow fond of me, in spite of his Aversion to the Sex, else he wou'd ne'er have taken so much Pains about me. Lord, how proud wou'd some poor Creatures be of such a Conquest! But I, alas! I don't know how to receive as a Favour what I take to be so infinitely my Due. But what shall I do to new-mould him, Madamoiselle? for till then he's my utter Aversion.
Lady Fan. Honestly, I think I could soon tame his brutishness; he definitely has an odd crush on me, despite his dislike for women, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me. Goodness, how proud some poor souls would be of such a victory! But I, unfortunately, don’t know how to accept as a favor what I believe is rightfully mine. But what should I do to reshape him, Madamoiselle? Because until then, he's completely repulsive to me.
Madam. Matam; you must laugh at him in all de place dat you meet him, and turn into de reticule all he say, and all he do.
Madam. Matam; you have to laugh at him everywhere you see him, and make fun of everything he says and does.
Lady Fan. Why, truly, Satire has ever been of wondrous use to reform Ill-manners. Besides, 'tis my particular Talent to ridicule Folks. I can be severe, strangely severe, when I will, Madamoiselle——Give me the Pen and Ink——I find myself whimsical——I'll write to him——Or I'll let it alone, and be severe upon him that way [Sitting down to write, rising up again.]—Yet Active Severity is better than Passive. [Sitting down.]——'Tis as good let it alone, too; for every Lash I give him, perhaps, he'll take for a Favour. [Rising.]——Yet 'tis a thousand pities so much Satire should be lost. [Sitting.[Pg 145]]—— But if it shou'd have a wrong Effect upon him, 'twould distract me. [Rising.]——Well, I must write, tho', after all, [Sitting.]——Or I'll let it alone, which is the same thing. [Rising.]
Lady Fan. Honestly, Satire has always been incredibly effective at fixing bad behavior. Plus, it's my special skill to poke fun at people. I can be tough, really tough, when I want to, Madamoiselle——Hand me the pen and paper——I feel a bit playful——I'll write to him——Or I might just ignore it and be tough in that way [Sitting down to write, rising up again.]—But being actively harsh is better than being passive. [Sitting down.]——It's probably just as well to let it go; after all, he might see any criticism I give him as a compliment. [Rising.]——Still, it's such a shame to waste all this Satire. [Sitting.[Pg 145]]——But if it ends up having a negative effect on him, it would really bother me. [Rising.]——Well, I guess I have to write, though, in the end, [Sitting.]——Or I’ll just let it go, which is basically the same thing. [Rising.]
Madam. La voilà determinée.
Ma'am. Here she is determined.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
ACT III.
SCENE opens; Sir John, Lady Brute force and Belinda rising from the Table.
Sir John. Here, take away the Things; I expect Company. But first bring me a Pipe; I'll smoak.
Sir John. Here, take away the things; I’m expecting company. But first, bring me a pipe; I’m going to smoke.
[To a Servant.
[To a Staff Member.]
Lady Brute. Lord, Sir John, I wonder you won't leave that nasty Custom.
Lady Brute. Lord, Sir John, I really wonder why you won't ditch that awful habit.
Sir John. Pr'ythee, don't be impertinent.
Sir John. Please don't be rude.
Bel. [To Lady Brute.] I wonder who those People are he expects this Afternoon?
Bel. [To Lady Brute force.] I’m curious who those people are that he’s expecting this afternoon.
Lady Brute. I'd give the World to know: Perhaps 'tis Constant—he comes here sometimes: if it does prove him, I'm resolv'd I'll share the Visit.
Lady Brute. I'd give anything to know: Maybe it’s Constant—he comes here sometimes: if it turns out to be him, I’m determined to join the visit.
Bel. We'll send for our Work, and sit here.
Bel. We'll request our work and stay here.
Lady Brute. He'll choak us with his Tobacco.
Lady Brute. He'll choke us with his tobacco.
Bel. Nothing will choak us when we are doing what we have a mind to. Lovewell!
Bel. Nothing will choke us when we're doing what we want. Lovewell!
Enter Lovewell.
Enter Lovewell.
Lov. Madam.
Love. Ma'am.
Lady Brute. Here; bring my Cousin's Work and mine hither.
Lady Brute. Here; bring my cousin's work and mine over here.
[Exit Lov. and re-enters with their Work.
[Exit Love. and re-enters with their Work.
Sir John. Whu! Pox, can't you work somewhere else?
Sir John. Ugh! Come on, can't you find a job somewhere else?
Lady Brute. We shall be careful not to disturb you, Sir.
Lady Brute. We'll make sure not to bother you, Sir.
Bel. Your Pipe would make you too thoughtful, Uncle, if you were left alone; our Prittle-prattle will cure your Spleen.
Bel. Your pipe would make you too introspective, Uncle, if you were on your own; our chit-chat will lift your mood.
Sir John. Will it so, Mrs. Pert? Now I believe it will so increase it, [Sitting and smoaking.] I shall take my own House for a Paper-mill.
Sir John. Is that how it is, Mrs. Pert? Now I believe that will really boost it, [Sitting and smoking.] I think I'll turn my own house into a paper mill.
Lady Brute. [To Bel. aside.] Don't let's mind him; let him say what he will.
Lady Brute. [To Bel. aside.] Let's ignore him; he can say whatever he wants.
Sir John. A Woman's Tongue a Cure for the Spleen!—Oons—[Aside.] If a Man had got the Head-ach, they'd be for applying the same Remedy.
Sir John. A Woman's Words a Cure for the Spleen!—Good grief—[Aside.] If a Man had a Headache, they'd suggest using the same solution.
Lady Brute. You have done a great deal, Belinda, since yesterday.
Lady Brute. You've accomplished a lot, Belinda, since yesterday.
Bel. Yes, I have work'd very hard; how do you like it?
Bel. Yes, I’ve worked really hard; what do you think of it?
Lady Brute. O, 'tis the prettiest Fringe in the World. Well, Cousin, you have the happiest Fancy: Pr'ythee, advise me about altering my Crimson Petticoat.
Lady Brute. Oh, it’s the prettiest fringe in the world. Well, cousin, you have the happiest imagination! Please, advise me on changing my red petticoat.
Sir John. A Pox o' your Petticoat! Here's such a Prating, a Man can't digest his own Thoughts for you.
Sir John. A pox on your petticoat! There's so much chatter that a man can't even think his own thoughts because of you.
Lady Brute. Don't answer him. [Aside.] Well, what do you advise me?
Lady Brute. Don't respond to him. [Aside.] So, what do you suggest I do?
Bel. Why, really, I would not alter it at all. Methinks 'tis very pretty as it is.
Bel. Honestly, I wouldn’t change it at all. I think it’s really pretty just the way it is.
Lady Brute. Ay, that's, true: But you know one grows weary of the prettiest things in the World, when one has had 'em long.
Lady Brute. Yeah, that's true: But you know you can get tired of the prettiest things in the world after having them for a while.
Sir John. Yes, I have taught her that.
Sir John. Yes, I’ve taught her that.
Bel. Shall we provoke him a little?
Bel. Should we tease him a bit?
Lady Brute. With all my Heart. Belinda, don't you long to be marry'd?
Lady Brute. Honestly, I really do. Belinda, don't you wish to get married?
Bel. Why, there are some things in it I could like well enough.
Bel. Well, there are some things in it that I could really like.
Lady Brute. What do you think you shou'd dislike?
Lady Brute. What do you think you wouldn't like?
Bel. My Husband, a hundred to one else.
Bel. My husband, definitely more than anyone else.
Lady Brute. O ye wicked Wretch! Sure you don't speak as you think?
Lady Brute. Oh, you evil wretch! Surely you don’t mean what you’re saying?
Bel. Yes, I do: especially if he smoak'd Tobacco.
Bel. Yeah, I do: especially if he smoked tobacco.
[He looks earnestly at 'em.
He looks earnestly at them.
Lady Brute. Why, that many times takes off worse Smells.
Lady Brute. Well, that often makes it smell worse.
Bel. Then he must smell very ill indeed.
Bel. Then he must smell really bad.
Lady Brute. So some Men will, to keep their Wives from coming near 'em.
Lady Brute. So some men will, to keep their wives away from them.
Bel. Then those Wives shou'd cuckold 'em at a distance.
Bel. Then those wives should cheat on them from afar.
Sir John.. 'Oons, get you gone up Stairs, you confederating Strumpets you, o I'll cuckold you, with a Vengeance!
Sir John.. 'Damn it, get upstairs, you scheming sluts, or I'll make you pay for it!
Lady Brute. O Lord, he'll beat us, he'll beat us. Dear, dear Mr. Constant, save us!
Lady Brute. Oh no, he's going to hit us, he's going to hit us. Please, dear Mr. Constant, help us!
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
Sir John. I'll cuckold you, with a Pox.
Sir John. I'll cheat on you, with a curse.
Const. Heav'n! Sir John, what's the matter?
Heaven! Sir John, what's wrong?
Sir John. Sure, if Women had been ready created, the Devil, instead of being kick'd down into Hell, had been marry'd.
Sir John. Of course, if Women had been created right away, the Devil, instead of being cast down to Hell, would have gotten married.
Heart. Why, what new Plague have you found now?
Heart. What new plague have you discovered now?
Sir John. Why, these two Gentlewomen did but hear me say, I expected you here this Afternoon; upon which they presently resolv'd to take up the Room, o' purpose to plague me and my Friends.
Sir John. Well, these two ladies just heard me say that I expected you here this afternoon; as a result, they immediately decided to take the room just to annoy me and my friends.
Const. Was that all? Why, we shou'd have been glad of their Company.
Const. Was that all? We would have been happy to have their company.
Sir John. Then I should have been weary of yours; for I can't relish both together. They found fault with my smoaking Tobacco, too; and said Men stunk. But I have a good mind—to say something.
Sir John. Then I would have grown tired of yours; because I can't enjoy both at the same time. They also criticized my smoking tobacco and said men reeked. But I'm really considering saying something.
Const. No, nothing against the Ladies, pray.
Const. No, nothing against the ladies, please.
Sir John. Split the Ladies! Come, will you sit down? Give us some Wine, Fellow: You won't smoak?
Sir John. Split the ladies! Come on, will you sit down? Get us some wine, buddy: You not smoking?
Const.. No; nor drink, neither, at this time—I must ask your Pardon.
Const.. No; and I can’t drink either right now—I have to apologize.
Sir John. What, this Mistress of yours runs in your Head! I'll warrant it's some such squeamish Minx as my Wife, that's grown so dainty of late, she finds fault even with a dirty Shirt.
Sir John. What, this Mistress of yours is all you can think about! I bet it's some picky girl like my Wife, who's gotten so fussy lately that she even complains about a dirty shirt.
Heart. That a Woman may do, and not be very dainty, neither.
Heart. A woman can do that and not be overly delicate, either.
Sir John. Pox o' the Women! let's drink. Come, you[Pg 148] shall take one Glass, tho' I send for a Box of Lozenges to sweeten your Mouth after it.
Sir John. Curse the women! Let's drink. Come on, you[Pg 148] should have a glass, even if I have to get some lozenges to freshen your breath afterward.
Const. Nay, if one Glass will satisfy you, I'll drink it, without putting you to that Expence.
Const. No, if one drink is enough for you, I'll have it without making you spend anything.
Sir John. Why, that's honest. Fill some Wine, Sirrah: So here's to you, Gentlemen—A Wife's the Devil. To your being both married.
Sir John. Well, that's honest. Pour some wine, my friend: So here's to you, gentlemen—A wife can be a handful. To both of you being married.
[They drink.
They’re drinking.
Heart. O, your most humble Servant, Sir.
Heart. Oh, your most humble servant, sir.
Sir John. Well, how do you like my Wine?
Sir John. So, what do you think of my wine?
Const. 'Tis very good, indeed.
It's very good, indeed.
Heart. 'Tis admirable.
Heart. It's admirable.
Sir John. Then give us t'other Glass.
Sir John. Then give us the other glass.
Const. No, pray excuse us now: We'll come another time, and then we won't spare it.
Const. No, please excuse us for now: We'll come another time, and then we won't hold back.
Sir John. This one Glass, and no more: Come, it shall be your Mistress's Health: And that's a great Compliment from me, I assure you.
Sir John. Just this one drink, and no more: Come on, it’s for your lady’s health. And that’s a big compliment from me, I promise you.
Const. And 'tis a very obliging one to me: So give us the Glasses.
Const. And it's really nice of you: So pass us the glasses.
Sir John. So: let her live—
Sir John. So, let her live—
[Sir John coughs in the Glass.
Sir John coughs in the Glass.
Heart. And be kind.
Heart. And be nice.
Const. What's the matter? Does it go the wrong way?
Const. What's wrong? Is it going the wrong way?
Sir John. If I had Love enough to be jealous, I shou'd take this for an ill Omen: For I never drank my Wife's Health in my Life, but I puk'd in the Glass.
Sir John. If I were jealous enough to believe in love, I would see this as a bad sign: I've never toasted my wife's health without getting sick into the glass.
Const. O, she's too virtuous to make a reasonable Man jealous.
Const. Oh, she's too good to make a decent guy jealous.
Sir John. Pox of her Virtue! If I cou'd but catch her Adulterating, I might be divorc'd from her by Law.
Sir John. Curse her virtue! If I could just catch her cheating, I might be able to get a divorce from her legally.
Heart. And so pay her a yearly Pension, to be a distinguish'd Cuckold.
Heart. And so, pay her a yearly allowance to be a notable cuckold.
Enter Servant.
Enter Attendant.
Serv. Sir, there's my Lord Rake, Colonel Bully, and some other Gentlemen at the Blue-Posts, desire your Company.
Serv. Sir, there's my Lord Rake, Colonel Bully, and a few other gentlemen at the Blue-Posts, who would like you to join them.
Sir John. Cod's so, we are to consult about playing the Devil to-night.
Sir John. So, we're supposed to talk about causing some chaos tonight.
Heart. Well, we won't hinder Business.
Heart. Well, we won't block Business.
Sir John. Methinks I don't know how to leave you, tho': But for once I must make bold. Or look you; may be the Conference mayn't last long: So, if you'll wait here half an hour, or an hour; if I don't come then—why, then—I won't come at all.
Sir John. I don't really know how to say goodbye to you, but I have to be brave this time. Listen, the meeting might not take too long. So, if you can wait here for half an hour or an hour, if I'm not back by then—well, then I won't be coming back at all.
Heart. [To Const.] A good modest Proposition, truly!
Heart. [To Const.] That's a pretty decent and humble suggestion, for sure!
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Const. But let's accept on't, however. Who knows what may happen?
Const. But let's just go with it, okay? Who knows what could happen?
Heart. Well, Sir, to shew you how fond we are of your Company, we'll expect your Return as long as we can.
Heart. Well, Sir, to show you how much we enjoy your Company, we'll look forward to your Return for as long as we can.
Sir John. Nay, may be I mayn't stay at all. But Business, you know, must be done. So your Servant—Or hark you, if you have a mind to take a Frisk with us, I have an Interest with my Lord; I can easily introduce you.
Sir John. Well, I might not be able to stay at all. But you know, business has to be done. So, your servant—Or listen, if you're interested in joining us for some fun, I have a connection with my Lord; I can easily introduce you.
Const. We are much beholden to you; but for my part, I'm engag'd another way.
Const. We really appreciate your help, but I’m committed to something else.
Sir John. What! to your Mistress, I'll warrant. Pr'ythee, leave your nasty Punk to entertain herself with her own lewd Thoughts, and make one with us to-night.
Sir John. What! are you off to see your Mistress, I bet. Come on, leave your filthy girl to entertain herself with her own dirty thoughts, and join us tonight.
Const. Sir, 'tis Business that is to employ me.
Const. Sir, it's business that will keep me busy.
Heart. And me; and Business must be done, you know.
Heart. And me; and Business has to get done, you know.
Sir John. Ay, Women's Business, tho' the World were consum'd for't.
Sir John. Yes, Women’s Business, even if the world were to burn for it.
[Exit Sir John.
[Exit Sir John.
Const. Farewel, Beast! And now, my dear Friend, would my Mistress be but as complaisant as some Men's Wives, who think it a piece of good Breeding to receive the Visits of their Husband's Friends in his Absence!
Const. Goodbye, Beast! And now, my dear Friend, if only my Mistress were as accommodating as some Men's Wives, who consider it polite to welcome their husband's friends when he’s not around!
Heart. Why, for your sake I could forgive her, tho' she should be so complaisant to receive something else in his Absence. But what way shall we invent to see her?
Heart. For you, I could forgive her, even if she seems all too willing to accept something from him while he's not around. But how can we come up with a plan to see her?
Const. O, ne'er hope it: Invention will prove as vain as Wishes.
Const. Oh, don’t even hope for it: Creativity will turn out to be as useless as Wishes.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda.
Heart. What do you think now, Friend?
Heart. What do you think now, my friend?
Const. I think I shall swoon.
I think I'm going to faint.
Heart. I'll speak first, then, whilst you fetch breath.
Heart. I'll go first then, while you catch your breath.
Lady Brute. We think ourselves oblig'd, Gentlemen, to come and return you thanks for your Knight-Errantry. We were just upon being devour'd by the fiery Dragon.
Lady Brute. We feel it’s our duty, gentlemen, to come and thank you for your heroic deeds. We were just about to be eaten by the fiery dragon.
Bel. Did not his Fumes almost knock you down, Gentlemen?
Bel. Didn't his fumes nearly knock you over, guys?
Heart. Truly, Ladies, we did undergo some Hardships; and should have done more, if some greater Heroes than ourselves, hard by, had not diverted him.
Heart. Honestly, Ladies, we faced some challenges; and we would have faced even more if some greater heroes than we were nearby had not distracted him.
Const. Tho' I'm glad of the Service you are pleas'd to say we have done you, yet I'm sorry we could do it in no other way, than by making ourselves privy to what you would perhaps have kept a Secret.
Const. Though I'm glad for the help you say we've given you, I'm sorry we had to do it by getting involved in something you might have wanted to keep private.
Lady Brute. For Sir John's part, I suppose he design'd it no Secret, since he made so much Noise. And for myself, truly I'm not much concern'd, since 'tis fallen only into this Gentleman's Hands and yours; who, I have many Reasons to believe, will neither interpret nor report any thing to my disadvantage.
Lady Brute. As for Sir John, I assume he wanted it to be known since he made such a fuss about it. And honestly, I’m not too worried, since it’s only in the hands of this gentleman and you; I have plenty of reasons to believe that you both won’t interpret or share anything that would put me in a bad light.
Const. Your good Opinion, Madam, was what I fear'd I never could have merited.
Const. I was worried that I could never deserve your kind opinion, ma'am.
Lady Brute. Your Fears were vain, then, Sir; for I'm just to every body.
Lady Brute. So your fears were pointless, then, Sir; because I'm fair to everyone.
Heart. Pr'ythee, Constant, what is't you do to get the Ladies good Opinions? for I'm a Novice at it.
Heart. Please, Constant, what do you do to win the ladies' good opinions? Because I'm a beginner at this.
Bel. Sir, will you give me leave to instruct you?
Bel. Sir, can I have your permission to teach you?
Heart. Yes, that I will, with all my Soul, Madam.
Heart. Yes, I will, with all my heart, Ma'am.
Bel. Why, then, you must never be slovenly, never be out of humour, fare well and cry Roast-meat, smoak Tobacco, nor drink but when you are dry.
Bel. So, you should never be messy, never be in a bad mood, take care, and only eat roast meat, smoke tobacco, or drink when you’re thirsty.
Heart. That's hard.
Heart. That's tough.
Const. Nay, if you take his Bottle from him, you break his Heart, Madam.
Const. No, if you take his bottle away, you'll break his heart, ma'am.
Bel. Why, is it possible the Gentleman can love Drinking?
Bel. Is it really possible that the guy loves drinking?
Heart. Only by way of Antidote.
Heart. Only through Antidote.
Bel. Against what, pray?
Bel. Against what, please?
Heart. Against Love, Madam.
Heart. Against Love, Ma'am.
Lady Brute. Are you afraid of being in Love, Sir?
Lady Brute. Are you scared of falling in love, Sir?
Heart. I should, if there were any Danger of it.
Heart. I should, if there was any risk of it.
Lady Brute. Pray why so?
Lady Brute. Why is that?
Heart. Because I always had an Aversion to being us'd like a Dog.
Heart. Because I’ve always hated being treated like a dog.
Bel. Why, truly, Men in Love are seldom us'd better.
Bel. Well, honestly, men in love are rarely treated any better.
Lady Brute. But was you never in Love, Sir?
Lady Brute. But have you never been in love, Sir?
Heart. No, I thank Heav'n, Madam.
Heart. No, thank you, Madam.
Bel. Pray, where got you your Learning, then?
Bel. So, where did you get your knowledge?
Heart. From other People's Expence.
Heart. At Other People's Expense.
Bel. That's being a Spunger, Sir, which is scarce honest: If you'd buy some Experience with your own Money, as 'twould be fairlier got, so 'twould stick longer by you.
Bel. That's being a Sponger, Sir, which isn't very honest: If you bought some experience with your own money, it would be earned fairly and would stay with you longer.
Enter Footman.
Footman enters.
Foot. Madam, here's my Lady Fancyfull, to wait upon your Ladyship.
Foot. Madam, here’s my Lady Fancyfull, to attend to your Ladyship.
Lady Brute. Shield me, kind Heaven! What an Inundation of Impertinence is here coming upon us!
Lady Brute. Oh my goodness, what an overwhelming amount of rudeness is coming our way!
Enter Lady Fancyfull, who runs first to Lady Brute, then to Belinda, kissing 'em.
Enter Lady Fanciful, who runs first to Lady Brute force, then to Belinda, kissing them.
Lady Fan. My dear Lady Brute, and sweet Belinda, methinks 'tis an Age since I saw you.
Lady Fan. My dear Lady Brute, and lovely Belinda, it feels like it's been ages since I last saw you.
Lady Brute. Yet 'tis but three Days; sure you have pass'd your time very ill, it seems so long to you.
Lady Brute. It's only been three days; you must have spent your time poorly, since it feels so long to you.
Lady Fan. Why, really, to confess the truth to you, I am so everlastingly fatigu'd with the Addresses of unfortunate Gentlemen, that, were it not for the Extravagancy of the Example, I shou'd e'en tear out these wicked Eyes with my own Fingers, to make both myself and Mankind easy. What think you on't, Mr. Heartfree, for I take you to be my faithful Adviser?
Lady Fan. Honestly, to tell you the truth, I’m so completely exhausted by the advances of unfortunate gentlemen that, if it weren't for the outrageousness of the situation, I would just as soon gouge out my own eyes to spare both myself and humanity. What do you think about that, Mr. Heartfree? I see you as my loyal advisor.
Heart. Why, truly, Madam—I think—every Project that is for the good of Mankind ought to be encourag'd.
Heart. Honestly, Madam—I believe—every project that benefits humanity should be supported.
Lady Fan. Then I have your Consent, Sir?
Lady Fan. So, I have your agreement, sir?
Heart. To do whatever you please, Madam.
Heart. You can do whatever you want, ma'am.
Lady Fan. You had a much more limited Complaisance this Morning, Sir. Would you believe it, Ladies? The Gentleman has been so exceeding generous, to[Pg 152] tell me of above fifty Faults, in less time than it was well possible for me to commit two of 'em.
Lady Fan. You were a lot less accommodating this morning, Sir. Can you believe it, ladies? The gentleman has been incredibly generous to[Pg 152] point out over fifty faults in the time it would take me to make just two of them.
Const. Why, truly, Madam, my Friend there is apt to be something familiar with the Ladies.
Const. Well, honestly, ma'am, my friend tends to be a bit too familiar with the ladies.
Lady Fan. He is, indeed, Sir; but he's wondrous charitable with it: He has had the Goodness to design a Reformation, even down to my Fingers-ends.——'Twas thus, I think, Sir, [Opening her fingers in an aukward manner.] you'd have had 'em stand—My Eyes, too, he did not like: How was't you wou'd have directed 'em? Thus, I think. [Staring at him.]—Then there was something amiss in my Gait, too: I don't know well how 'twas; but as I take it, he would have had me walk like him. Pray, Sir, do me the Favour to take a turn or two about the Room, that the Company may see you.—He's sullen, Ladies, and won't. But, to make short, and give you as true an Idea as I can of the matter, I think 'twas much about this Figure, in general, he would have moulded me to: But I was an obstinate Woman, and could not resolve to make myself Mistress of his Heart, by growing as aukward as his Fancy.
Lady Fan. He is, indeed, Sir; but he's incredibly generous with it: He's taken the time to plan a makeover for me, even down to my fingertips.——I believe, Sir, [Opening her fingers in an awkward way.] this is how you would have liked them to look—Oh, and he wasn't fond of my eyes either: How would you have wanted me to direct them? Like this, I suppose. [Staring at him.]—Then there was something off about my walk as well: I’m not exactly sure how, but from what I gather, he'd have preferred me to walk like him. Please, Sir, do me the favor of taking a few turns around the room so the guests can see you.—He's being difficult, ladies, and won’t. But to keep it brief and give you a clear idea of the situation, I think it was mostly about this overall look he wanted me to adopt: But I was a stubborn woman and couldn’t bring myself to win his heart by becoming as awkward as his taste.
[She walks aukwardly about, staring and looking ungainly, then changes on a sudden to the Extremity of her usual Affectation.
She walks awkwardly around, staring and looking clumsy, then suddenly changes to the extreme of her usual affectation.
Heart.. Just thus Women do, when they think we are in love with em, or when they are so with us.
Heart.. This is exactly how Women act, when they believe we are in love with them, or when they are in love with us.
[Here Constant and Lady Brute talk together apart.
Here Constant and Lady Brute talk privately.
Lady Fan. 'Twould, however, be less Vanity for me to conclude the former, than you the latter, Sir.
Lady Fan. It would be less vain for me to conclude the first than for you to conclude the second, Sir.
Heart.. Madam, all I shall presume to conclude, is, That if I wer in love, you'd find the means to make me soon weary on't.
Heart.. Madam, all I can conclude is that if I were in love, you would find a way to make me tired of it quickly.
Lady Fan. Not by Over-fondness, upon my Word, Sir. But pray let's stop here; for you are so much govern'd by Instinct, I know you'll grow brutish at last.
Lady Fan. Not from too much affection, I assure you, Sir. But please, let’s pause here; because I can tell you’re so driven by instinct that you’ll end up behaving like an animal.
Bel. [Aside.] Now am I sure she's fond of him: I'll try to make her jealous. Well, for my part, I should be glad to find somebody would be so free with me, that I might know my Faults, and mend 'em.
Bel. [Aside.] Now I’m sure she likes him: I’ll try to make her jealous. Honestly, I’d be happy to find someone who would be open with me so that I could recognize my flaws and fix them.
Lady Fan. Then pray let me recommend this Gentleman to you: I have known him some time, and will be Surety for him, that upon a very limited Encouragement on your side, you shall find an extended Impudence on his.
Lady Fan. Then please let me introduce this gentleman to you: I’ve known him for a while, and I can vouch for him. With just a little encouragement from you, you’ll find he has a lot of nerve.
Heart. I thank you, Madam, for your Recommendation: But hating Idleness, I'm unwilling to enter into a Place where I believe there would be nothing to do. I was fond of serving your Ladyship, because I knew you'd find me constant Employment.
Heart. Thank you, ma'am, for your recommendation; however, I dislike idleness and am hesitant to go to a place where I think there won't be anything to do. I enjoyed serving you because I knew you would keep me busy.
Lady Fan. I told you he'd be rude, Belinda.
Lady Fan. I told you he’d be rude, Belinda.
Bel. O, a little Bluntness is a sign of Honesty, which makes me always ready to pardon it. So, Sir, if you have no other Exceptions to my Service, but the fear of being idle in it, you may venture to lift yourself: I shall find you Work, I warrant you.
Bel. Oh, a little straightforwardness shows honesty, which makes me always willing to forgive it. So, Sir, if your only concern about my service is the fear of being unproductive, you can feel free to take on the role: I promise I'll keep you busy.
Heart. Upon those Terms I engage, Madam; and this (with your leave) I take for Earnest.
Heart. On those terms, I agree, Madam; and I take this (with your permission) as earnest.
[Offering to kiss her Hand.
Offering to kiss her hand.
Bel. Hold there, Sir; I'm none of your Earnest-givers. But if I'm well serv'd, I give good Wages, and pay punctually.
Bel. Wait a second, sir; I’m not one of those who just give lip service. But if I’m treated well, I pay good wages and pay on time.
[Heartf. and Bel. seem to continue talking familiarly.
[Heartf. and Bel. appear to be chatting comfortably.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] I don't like this jesting between 'em—Methinks the Fool begins to look as if he were in earnest.——But then he must be a Fool, indeed.——Lard, what a Difference there is between me and her! [Looking at Bel. scornfully.] How I shou'd despise such a Thing, if I were a Man!—--What a Nose she has!—What a Chin——What a Neck!—--Then her Eyes——And the worst kissing Lips in the Universe——No, no, he can never like her, that's positive——Yet I can't suffer 'em together any longer. Mr. Heartfree, do you know that you and I must have no Quarrel for all this? I can't forbear being a little severe now and then: But Women, you know, may be allowed any thing.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] I don’t like this joking between them—It seems like the Fool is starting to get serious. But then he really must be a fool. Wow, what a difference there is between me and her! [Looking at Bel scornfully.] I would totally despise a person like that if I were a guy!—What a nose she has!—What a chin—What a neck!—And those eyes—And the worst kissing lips in the universe—No way, he can’t possibly like her, that’s for sure—Yet I can’t stand seeing them together any longer. Mr. Heartfree, you know we can’t have a fight over this, right? I can’t help being a bit harsh sometimes: But women, you know, can get away with anything.
Heart. Up to a certain Age, Madam.
Heart. Until a certain age, ma'am.
Lady Fan. Which I'm not yet past, I hope.
Lady Fan. I hope I haven't moved on from that just yet.
Heart. [Aside.] Nor never will, I dare swear.
Heart. [Aside.] And I swear it will never happen.
Lady Fan. [To Lady Brute.] Come, Madam, will your Ladyship be Witness to our Reconciliation?
Lady Fan. [To Lady Brutal.] Come on, Madam, will you be a witness to our reconciliation?
Lady Brute. You agree, then, at last?
Lady Brute. So, do you finally agree?
Heart. [Slightingly.] We forgive.
Heart. [Slightly.] We forgive.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] That was a cold, ill-natur'd Reply.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] That was a harsh, unfriendly response.
Lady Brute. Then there's no Challenges sent between you?
Lady Brute. So, there are no challenges being sent between you?
Heart. Not from me, I promise. [Aside to Constant.] But that's more than I'll do for her; for I know she can as well be damn'd as forbear writing to me.
Heart. Not from me, I promise. [Aside to Constant.] But that's more than I’ll do for her; because I know she can just as easily be damned as she can hold back from writing to me.
Const. That I believe. But I think we had best be going, lest she should suspect something, and be malicious.
Const. I believe that. But I think we should leave, so she doesn't get suspicious and start causing trouble.
Heart. With all my heart.
Heart. With all my love.
Const. Ladies, we are your humble Servants. I see Sir John is quite engag'd, 'twould be in vain to expect him. Come, Heartfree.
Const. Ladies, we are your humble servants. I see Sir John is pretty busy, so it wouldn’t make sense to wait for him. Come on, Heartfree.
[Exit.
[Leave.
Heart. Ladies, your Servant. [To Belinda.] I hope, Madam, you won't forget our Bargain; I'm to say what I please to you.
Heart. Ladies, your servant. [To Belinda.] I hope, Madam, you won't forget our deal; I’m supposed to say whatever I want to you.
[Exit Heartfree.
Exit Heartfree.
Bel. Liberty of Speech entire, Sir.
Bel. Complete Freedom of Speech, Sir.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] Very pretty truly—But how the Blockhead went out—languishing at her, and not a Look toward me!—Well, Churchmen may talk, but Miracles are not ceas'd. For 'tis more than natural, such a rude Fellow as he, and such a little Impertinent as she, should be capable of making a Woman of my Sphere uneasy. But I can bear her sight no longer——methinks she's grown ten times uglier than Cornet. I must home, and study Revenge. [To Lady Brute.] Madam, your humble Servant; I must take my leave.
Lady Fan. [Aside.] She's quite pretty, really—but how did that idiot go out there, fawning over her, without even a glance in my direction? Well, the Church may preach, but miracles haven’t stopped. It’s hard to believe that such a rude guy like him and such a little brat like her could make a woman of my status feel uneasy. But I can't stand to look at her any longer—she seems ten times uglier than Cornet. I need to go home and plan my revenge. [To Lady Brutal.] Madam, your humble servant; I must take my leave.
Lady Brute. What, going already, Madam?
Lady Brute. What, leaving already, Ma'am?
Lady Fan. I must beg you'll excuse me this once; for really I have eighteen Visits to return this Afternoon: So you see I'm importun'd by the Women as well as the Men.
Lady Fan. I really need you to excuse me this time; I have eighteen visits to make this afternoon. So you can see I'm being pressured by both the women and the men.
Bel. [Aside.] And she's quits with them both.
Bel. [Aside.] And she's even with them both.
Lady Fan. [Going.] Nay, you shan't go one Step out of the Room.
Lady Fan. [Going.] No, you can't leave the Room.
Lady Brute. Indeed I'll wait upon you down.
Lady Brute. I'll definitely go down with you.
Lady Fan. No, sweet Lady Brute, you know I swoon at Ceremony.
Lady Fan. No, sweet Lady Brute, you know I get all flustered at formalities.
Lady Brute. Pray give me leave.
Lady Brute. Please allow me.
Lady Fan. You know I won't.
Lady Fan. I won't do that.
Lady Brute. Indeed I must.
Lady Brute. I really have to.
Lady Fan. Indeed you shan't.
Lady Fan. You definitely won't.
Lady Brute. Indeed I will.
Lady Brute. Absolutely, I will.
Lady Fan.. Indeed you shan't.
Lady Fan. You definitely won't.
Lady Brute. Indeed I will.
Lady Brute. Definitely, I will.
Lady Fan. Indeed you shan't. Indeed, indeed, indeed you shan't.
Lady Fan. You're definitely not going to. Seriously, you really aren't.
[Exit Lady Fan. running; they follow.
[Exit Lady Fan. running; they follow.]
Re-enter Lady Brute sola.
Re-enter Lady Brute alone.
This impertinent Woman has put me out of Humour for a Fortnight——What an agreeable Moment has her foolish Visit interrupted! Lord, how like a Torrent Love flows into the Heart, when once the Sluice of Desire is open'd! Good Gods! What a Pleasure there is in doing what we should not do!
This rude woman has put me in a bad mood for two weeks—what a nice moment her silly visit has interrupted! Oh, how love pours into the heart like a flood when the floodgates of desire are opened! Good grief! What a thrill there is in doing what we shouldn’t do!
Re-enter Constant.
Re-enter Constant.
Ha! here again?
Ha! Back again?
Const. Tho' the renewing my Visit may seem a little irregular, I hope I shall obtain your Pardon for it, Madam, when you know I only left the Room, lest the Lady who was here should have been as malicious in her Remarks as she's foolish in her Conduct.
Const. Although my visit may seem a bit out of the ordinary, I hope you'll forgive me for it, Madam, when you realize I only left the room because I was concerned that the lady who was here might be as spiteful in her comments as she is foolish in her behavior.
Lady Brute. He who has Discretion enough to be tender of a Woman's Reputation, carries a Virtue about him may atone for a great many Faults.
Lady Brute. Someone who is considerate enough to protect a woman's reputation possesses a virtue that can make up for a lot of mistakes.
Const. If it has a Title to atone for any, its Pretensions must needs be strongest where the Crime is Love. I therefore hope I shall be forgiven the Attempt I have made upon your Heart, since my Enterprize has been a Secret to all the World but yourself.
Const. If it has a reason to make amends for anything, its claims must be strongest where the crime is love. I hope you can forgive me for trying to win your heart, since my efforts have been a secret to everyone except you.
Lady Brute. Secrecy, indeed, in Sins of this kind, is an Argument of weight to lessen the Punishment; but nothing's a Plea for a Pardon entire, without a sincere Repentance.
Lady Brute. Keeping secrets, especially in situations like this, can definitely lessen the punishment; however, nothing serves as a complete excuse for forgiveness without genuine repentance.
Const. If Sincerity in Repentance consists in Sorrow for offending, no Cloyster ever inclos'd so true a Penitent as I should be. But I hope it cannot be reckon'd an Offence to love where 'tis a Duty to adore.
Const. If being genuinely repentant means feeling sorrow for my wrongs, then no monastery ever held a truer penitent than I would be. But I hope it's not considered wrong to love when it’s a duty to worship.
Lady Brute. 'Tis an Offence, a great one, where it would rob a Woman of all she ought to be ador'd for—her Virtue.
Lady Brute. It’s a serious offense, a huge one, to take away from a woman everything she should be admired for—her virtue.
Const. Virtue?—Virtue, alas! is no more like the thing that's call'd so, than 'tis like Vice itself. Virtue consists in Goodness, Honour, Gratitude, Sincerity, and Pity; and not in peevish, snarling, strait-lac'd Chastity. True Virtue, wheresoever it moves, still carries an intrinsick Worth about it, and is in every Place, and in each Sex, of equal Value. So is not Continence, you see: That Phantom of Honour, which Men in every Age have so contemned, they have thrown it amongst the Women to scrabble for.
Const. Virtue?—Unfortunately, virtue is not at all like what people think it is, nor is it like vice. Virtue is about goodness, honor, gratitude, sincerity, and compassion, not about being grouchy, bitter, and overly strict about chastity. True virtue, wherever it appears, has an intrinsic worth and is equally valuable in every place and for every gender. Continence, however, is not the same: that illusion of honor which men throughout history have disdained has been left for women to fight over.
Lady Brute. If it be a thing of so little Value, why do you so earnestly recommend it to your Wives and Daughters?
Lady Brute. If it’s something so insignificant, why do you so passionately suggest it to your wives and daughters?
Const. We recommend it to our Wives, Madam, because we wou'd keep 'em to ourselves; and to our Daughters, because we wou'd dispose of 'em to others.
Const. We suggest this to our wives, ma'am, because we want to keep them for ourselves; and to our daughters, because we plan to give them away to others.
Lady Brute. 'Tis then, of some Importance, it seems, since you can't dispose of them without it.
Lady Brute. It seems it's pretty important, then, since you can't get rid of them without it.
Const. That Importance, Madam, lies in the Humour of the Country, not in the Nature of the Thing.
Const. The significance, ma'am, is in the humor of the country, not in the nature of the thing.
Lady Brute. How do you prove that, Sir?
Lady Brute. How do you prove that, Sir?
Const. From the Wisdom of a neighbouring Nation in a contrary Practice. In Monarchies, things go by Whimsy; but Commonwealths weigh all things in the Scale of Reason.
Const. From the Wisdom of a neighboring Nation in a different Practice. In Monarchies, things happen based on whims; but Commonwealths evaluate everything with logic.
Lady Brute. I hope we are not so very light a People, to bring up Fashions without some ground.
Lady Brute. I hope we’re not so easily swayed that we adopt trends without any reason.
Const. Pray what does your Ladyship think of a powder'd Coat for deep Mourning?
Const. So, what do you think about a powdered coat for serious mourning?
Lady Brute. I think, Sir, your Sophistry has all the effect that you can reasonably expect it should have; it puzzles, but don't convince.
Lady Brute. I believe, Sir, your reasoning has the effect that you can reasonably expect; it confuses, but doesn't persuade.
Const. I'm sorry for it.
I’m sorry about that.
Lady Brute. I'm sorry to hear you say so.
Lady Brute. I'm really sorry to hear you say that.
Const. Pray why?
Const. Why pray tell?
Lady Brute. Because, if you expected more from it, you have a worse Opinion of my Understanding than I desire you should have.
Lady Brute. Because if you expected more from it, you think less of my understanding than I would like you to.
Const. [Aside.] I comprehend her: She would have me set a Value upon her Chastity, that I might think my[Pg 157]self the more oblig'd to her when she makes me a Present of it. [To her.] I beg you will believe I did but rally, Madam; I know you judge too well of Right and Wrong, to be deceiv'd by Arguments like those. I hope you'll have so favourable an Opinion of my Understanding too, to believe the thing call'd Virtue has Worth enough with me, to pass for an eternal Obligation where'er 'tis sacrific'd.
Const. [Aside.] I get what she’s saying: She wants me to value her purity so that I’ll feel more indebted to her when she offers it to me as a gift. [To her.] I assure you, I was just joking, Ma'am; I know you’re too wise about right and wrong to be fooled by arguments like that. I hope you’ll have a high opinion of my understanding as well, believing that what we call virtue is valuable enough to be an everlasting commitment, no matter where it’s given up.
Lady Brute. It is, I think, so great a one as nothing can repay.
Lady Brute. I believe it's such a big deal that nothing can make up for it.
Const. Yes; the making the Man you love your everlasting Debtor.
Const. Yes; making the man you love your lifelong debtor.
Lady Brute. When Debtors once have borrow'd all we have to lend, they are very apt to grow shy of their Creditors' Company.
Lady Brute. Once debtors have borrowed everything we have to lend, they tend to get uncomfortable around their creditors.
Const. That, Madam, is only when they are forc'd to borrow of Usurers, and not of a generous Friend. Let us choose our Creditors, and we are seldom so ungrateful to shun 'em.
Const. That, ma'am, is only when they are forced to borrow from loan sharks, not from a generous friend. If we choose our creditors wisely, we are rarely so ungrateful as to avoid them.
Lady Brute. What think you of Sir John, Sir? I was his free Choice.
Lady Brute. What do you think of Sir John, Sir? I was his free choice.
Const. I think he's married, Madam.
I think he’s married, ma’am.
Lady Brute. Does Marriage, then, exclude Men from your Rule of Constancy?
Lady Brute. So, does marriage mean that men are no longer part of your commitment?
Const. It does. Constancy's a brave, free, haughty, generous Agent, that cannot buckle to the Chains of Wedlock. There's a poor sordid Slavery in Marriage, that turns the flowing Tide of Honour, and sinks us to the lowest Ebb of Infamy. 'Tis a corrupted Soil: Ill-Nature, Avarice, Sloth, Cowardice, and Dirt, are all its Product.
Const. It does. Constancy is a bold, liberated, proud, and generous force that won’t submit to the constraints of marriage. There’s a dreary kind of bondage in marriage that tarnishes our honor and drags us down to the depths of disgrace. It’s a corrupted environment: bad temper, greed, laziness, cowardice, and filth are all its byproducts.
Lady Brute. Have you no Exceptions to this general Rule, as well as to t'other?
Lady Brute. Do you have any exceptions to this general rule, like you do for the other one?
Const. Yes; I would, after all, be an Exception to it myself, if you were free in Power and Will to make me so.
Const. Yes; I would actually be an exception to it myself if you had the freedom and will to make me one.
Lady Brute. Compliments are well plac'd where 'tis impossible to lay hold on 'em.
Lady Brute. Compliments are given appropriately when they can't be really grasped.
Const. I wou'd to Heaven 'twere possible for you to lay hold on mine, that you might see it is no Compli[Pg 158]ment at all. But since you are already dispos'd of, beyond Redemption, to one who does not know the Value of the Jewel you have put into his Hands, I hope you wou'd not think him greatly wrong'd, tho' it should sometimes be look'd on by a Friend, who knows how to esteem it as he ought.
Const. I wish to Heaven it were possible for you to see my situation, so you would understand it’s not a compliment at all. But since you’re already committed to someone who doesn’t recognize the value of the jewel you’ve placed in his hands, I hope you wouldn’t think he’s been treated unfairly, even if it’s occasionally appreciated by a friend who knows its true worth.
Lady Brute. If looking on't alone wou'd serve his turn, the Wrong, perhaps, might not be very great.
Lady Brute. If just looking at it would do the trick, the mistake, maybe, wouldn't be too serious.
Const. Why, what if he shou'd wear it now and then a Day, so he gave good Security to bring it home again at Night?
Const. What if he wore it every now and then during the day, as long as he promised to return it safely at night?
Lady Brute. Small Security, I fancy, might serve for that. One might venture to take his Word.
Lady Brute. I think Small Security might work for that. One could risk taking his word.
Const. Then, where's the Injury to the Owner?
Const. So, where's the harm to the owner?
Lady Brute. 'Tis an Injury to him, if he think it one. For if Happiness be seated in the Mind, Unhappiness must be so too.
Lady Brute. It’s an insult to him if he thinks it is. Because if happiness is in the mind, then unhappiness must be there too.
Const. Here I close with you, Madam, and draw my conclusive Argument from your own Position: If the Injury lie in the Fancy, there needs nothing but Secrecy to prevent the Wrong.
Const. Here I will finish with you, Madam, and base my final argument on your own stance: If the harm is just in the imagination, all it takes is secrecy to avoid the wrong.
Lady Brute. [Going.] A surer way to prevent it, is to hear no more Arguments in its behalf.
Lady Brute. [Going.] A better way to stop it is to not listen to any more arguments in its favor.
Const. [Following her.] But, Madam——
But, Ma'am——
Lady Brute. But, Sir, 'tis my turn to be discreet now, and not suffer too long a Visit.
Lady Brute. But, Sir, it’s my turn to be discreet now and not allow the visit to go on too long.
Const. [Catching her Hand.] By Heaven, you shall not stir, till you give me hopes that I shall see you again at some more convenient Time and Place!
Const. [Catching her Hand.] I swear, you’re not going anywhere until you promise me that I’ll see you again at a better time and place!
Lady Brute. I give you just hopes enough——[Breaking from him.] to get loose from you: and that's all I can afford you at this time.
Lady Brute. I give you just enough hope——[Breaking from him.] to get away from you: and that's all I can offer you right now.
[Exit running.
Exit running.
Constant solus.
Always alone.
Now, by all that's great and good, she is a charming Woman! In what Extasy of Joy she has left me! For she gave me Hope, did she not say she gave me Hope?—Hope! Ay: what Hope? Enough to make me let her go—Why, that's enough in Conscience. Or, no matter how 'twas spoke: Hope was the Word: it came from her, and it was said to me.
Now, by everything wonderful, she is a charming woman! What an ecstatic joy she has left me in! For she gave me hope—didn’t she say she gave me hope? Hope! Yeah, what hope? Just enough to make me let her go—well, that’s enough for my conscience. Or, it doesn’t matter how it was said: hope was the word; it came from her, and it was spoken to me.
Enter Heartfree.
Join Heartfree.
Ha, Heartfree! Thou hast done me noble Service in prattling to the young Gentlewoman without there; come to my Arms, thou venerable Bawd, and let me squeeze thee [Embracing him eagerly.] as a new Pair of Stays does a fat Country Girl, when she's carried to Court to stand for a Maid of Honour.
Ha, Heartfree! You’ve done me a great favor by chatting with the young lady out there; come here, you old matchmaker, and let me hug you [Embracing him eagerly.] like a new pair of corsets on a plump country girl when she’s brought to the court to be a maid of honor.
Heart. Why, what the Devil's all this Rapture for?
Heart. Why, what's all this excitement about?
Const. Rapture! There's ground for Rapture, Man; there's Hopes, my Heartfree, Hopes, my Friend!
Const. Excitement! There's reason to be excited, my friend; there are hopes, my Heartfree, hopes, my buddy!
Heart. Hopes! of what?
Heart. Hopes! For what?
Const. Why, Hopes that my Lady and I together (for 'tis more than one Body's Work) should make Sir John a Cuckold.
Const. Why, I hope that my lady and I together (since it's more than one person's job) can make Sir John a cuckold.
Heart. Pr'ythee, what did she say to thee?
Heart. Please, what did she say to you?
Const. Say? What did she not say? She said that——says she—she said—Zoons, I don't know what she said; but she look'd as if she said every thing I'd have her. And so, if thou'lt go to the Tavern, I'll treat thee with any thing that Gold can buy; I'll give all my Silver amongst the Drawers, make a Bonfire before the Door; say the Plenipo's have sign'd the Peace, and the Bank of England's grown honest.
Const. What did she say? Everything, it seems! She said—well, she said—gosh, I can't even remember exactly what she said; but she looked like she had said everything I wanted her to. So, if you come to the Tavern, I’ll buy you anything money can buy; I’ll share all my silver with the servers, make a bonfire outside the door; say the diplomats have signed the peace treaty, and the Bank of England has become trustworthy.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
SCENE opens; Lord Rake , Sir John, &c. at a Table, drinking.
All. Huzza!
All. Hooray!
Lord Rake. Come, Boys, charge again——So—Confusion to all Order! Here's Liberty of Conscience.
Lord Rake. Come on, guys, charge again—So—Chaos to all Order! Here's Freedom of Belief.
All. Huzza!
All. Hurray!
Lord Rake. I'll sing you a Song I made this Morning to this purpose.
Lord Rake. I'll sing you a song I wrote this morning for this purpose.
Sir John. 'Tis wicked, I hope.
Sir John. It's wicked, I hope.
Col. Bully. Don't my Lord tell you he made it?
Col. Bully. Didn’t my Lord tell you that he created it?
Sir John. Well, then, let's ha't.
Sir John. Well, then, let's have it.
Lord Rake Sings.
Lord Rake Sings.
About freeing our consciences! A bottle has more Benefits available,
More than what the King and the State can command.
I’m overflowing with design, And know that no Penal-Laws can hold me back:
Whatever I come up with Looks good to me,
And religion never dares to bother me.
Claret is available in-store, In Peace, I have my Whore, And in peace, I jog toward the Devil.
Lord Rake. [Rep.] And in Peace I jog on to the Devil. Well, how do you like it, Gentlemen?
Lord Rake. [Rep.] And in peace, I head straight to the Devil. So, what do you think, gentlemen?
All. O, admirable!
All. Oh, amazing!
Sir John. I would not give a Fig for a Song that is not full of Sin and Impudence.
Sir John. I wouldn’t care at all for a song that isn’t full of sin and boldness.
Lord Rake. Then my Muse is to your Taste. But drink away; the Night steals upon us; we shall want Time to be lewd in. Hey, Page! Sally out, Sirrah, and see what's doing in the Camp; we'll beat up their Quarters presently.
Lord Rake. So, my Muse is to your liking. But go on and drink; the night is creeping in on us, and we'll need time to be wild. Hey, Page! Go out, man, and check out what's happening in the camp; we'll raid their quarters soon.
Page. I'll bring your Lordship an exact Account.
Page. I'll provide you with a detailed report, my Lord.
[Exit Page.
Exit Page.
Lord Rake.. Now let the Spirit of Clary go round. Fill me a Brimmer Here's to our Forlorn Hope. Courage, Knight, Victory attends you.
Lord Rake. Now let the Spirit of Clary circulate. Pour me a drink. Here’s to our lost cause. Stay strong, Knight; victory is on your side.
Sir John. And Laurels shall crown me; drink away, and be damn'd.
Sir John. And I'll be crowned with laurels; let's drink and be damned.
Lord Rake. Again, Boys; t'other Glass, and damn Morality.
Lord Rake. Again, guys; the other glass, and forget morality.
Sir John. [Drunk.] Ay—damn Morality—and damn the Watch. And let the Constable be married.
Sir John. [Drunk.] Yeah—screw Morality—and screw the Watch. And let the Constable get married.
All. Huzza!
All. Hooray!
Re-enter Page.
Reload Page.
Lord Rake. How are the Streets inhabited, Sirrah?
Lord Rake. How are the streets filled, Sirrah?
Page. My Lord, 'tis Sunday-night; they are full of drunken Citizens.
Page. My Lord, it's Sunday night; the streets are packed with drunk citizens.
Lord Rake. Along, then, Boys, we shall have a Feast.
Lord Rake. Alright then, guys, we’re having a feast.
Col. Bully. Along, noble Knight.
Col. Bully. Come on, noble Knight.
Sir John. Ay——along, Bully; and he that says Sir John Brute is not as drunk and as religious as the drunkenest Citizen of them all—is a Liar, and the Son of a Whore.
Sir John. Yeah—come on, Bully; and anyone who says Sir John Brute isn’t as drunk and as pious as the drunkest citizen out there—is a liar and the child of a whore.
Col. Bully. Why, that was bravely spoke, and like a free-born Englishman.
Col. Bully. That was well said, and it sounded just like a free-born Englishman.
Sir John. What's that to you, Sir, whether I am an Englishman or a Frenchman?
Sir John. What difference does it make to you, Sir, if I'm an Englishman or a Frenchman?
Col. Bully. Zoons, you are not angry, Sir?
Col. Bully. Hey, you’re not mad, are you?
Sir John. Zoons, I am angry, Sir——for if I'm a free-born Englishman, what have you to do even to talk of my Privileges?
Sir John. Zoons, I’m angry, Sir—if I’m a free-born Englishman, what right do you have to even talk about my Privileges?
Lord Rake. Why, pr'ythee, Knight, don't quarrel here; leave private Animosities to be decided by Day-light; let the Night be employ'd against the publick Enemy.
Lord Rake. Come on, Knight, don’t argue here; save your personal grievances for the daylight. Let’s use the night to fight against our common enemy.
Sir John. My Lord, I respect you because you are a Man of Quality. But I'll make that Fellow know, I am within a Hair's breadth as absolute by my Privileges, as the King of France is by his Prerogative. He by his Prerogative takes Money where it is not his due; I by my Privilege refuse paying it where I owe it. Liberty and Property, and Old England, Huzza!
Sir John. My Lord, I have respect for you because you’re a man of quality. But I’ll make sure that guy understands I have just as much authority through my privileges as the King of France does through his prerogative. He uses his prerogative to take money when it’s not rightfully his; I use my privilege to refuse to pay money that I owe. Freedom and property, and Old England, hurray!
All. Huzza!
All. Hooray!
[Exit Sir John reeling, all following him.
Exit Sir John, reeling, everyone follows.
SCENE, A Bed-Chamber.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda.
Lady Brute. Sure 'tis late, Belinda; I begin to be sleepy.
Lady Brute. It's definitely late, Belinda; I'm starting to feel sleepy.
Bel. Yes, 'tis near Twelve. Will you go to Bed?
Bel. Yes, it's almost twelve. Are you going to bed?
Lady Brute. To Bed, my Dear? And by that time I am fallen into a sweet Sleep (or perhaps a sweet Dream, which is better and better) Sir John will come home roaring drunk, and be overjoy'd he finds me in a Condition to be disturb'd.
Lady Brute. To bed, my dear? By the time I’ve drifted off into a nice sleep (or maybe a nice dream, which is even better), Sir John will stumble in, totally drunk, and be so happy to see that I'm in a state to be woken up.
Bel. O, you need not fear him; he's in for all Night. The Servants say he's gone to drink with my Lord Rake.
Bel. Oh, you don’t need to worry about him; he’ll be out all night. The servants say he’s gone to drink with my lord Rake.
Lady Brute. Nay, 'tis not very likely, indeed, such suitable Company should part presently. What Hogs Men turn, Belinda, when they grow weary of Women!
Lady Brute. No, it's not very likely that such a fitting group would separate right now. What pigs men become, Belinda, when they get tired of women!
Bel. And what Owls they are, whilst they are fond of 'em!
Bel. And how much they love those Owls!
Lady Brute. But That we may forgive well enough, because they are so upon our accounts.
Lady Brute. But we can forgive that easily enough because they’re just acting in our interest.
Bel. We ought to do so, indeed; but 'tis a hard matter. For when a Man is really in love, he looks so unsufferably silly, that tho' a Woman lik'd him well enough before, she has then much ado to endure the Sight of him: And this I take to be the Reason why Lovers are so generally ill-us'd.
Bel. We really should, but it's difficult. When a guy is truly in love, he looks ridiculously silly, and even if a woman liked him before, it's hard for her to stand the sight of him then. I think this is why lovers are often treated poorly.
Lady Brute. Well, I own, now, I'm well enough pleased to see a Man look like an Ass for me.
Lady Brute. Well, I admit, I'm quite happy to see a man acting like a fool for my sake.
Bel. Ay, I'm pleas'd he should look like an Ass, too;—that is, I'm pleased with myself for making him look so.
Bel. Yeah, I'm glad he looks like a fool, too;—that is, I'm happy with myself for making him look that way.
Lady Brute. Nay, truly, I think if he'd find some other way to express his Passion, 'twould be more to his advantage.
Lady Brute. No, really, I think if he found another way to express his feelings, it would be better for him.
Bel. Yes; for then a Woman might like his Passion and him too.
Bel. Yeah; because then a woman could appreciate his passion and him as well.
Lady Brute. Yet, Belinda, after all, a Woman's Life[Pg 163] would be but a dull Business, if it were not for Men; and Men that can look like Asses, too. We shou'd never blame Fate for the shortness of our Days; our Time would hang wretchedly upon our Hands.
Lady Brute. Still, Belinda, honestly, a woman's life[Pg 163] would be pretty boring if it weren't for men; and men who can be quite foolish too. We shouldn't blame fate for the brevity of our lives; our time would feel painfully empty.
Bel. Why, truly, they do help us off with a good share on't: For were there no Men in the World, o'my Conscience, I shou'd be no longer a-dressing than I'm a-saying my Prayers; nay, tho' it were Sunday: For you know that one may go to Church without Stays on.
Bel. Well, honestly, they really do help us out a lot: Because if there were no men in the world, I swear, I wouldn't get dressed any more than I would when I'm saying my prayers; not even if it were Sunday: Because you know that you can go to church without wearing a corset.
Lady Brute. But don't you think Emulation might do something? For every Woman you see desires to be finer than her Neighbour.
Lady Brute. But don’t you think competition could make a difference? Every woman you see wants to be more impressive than her neighbor.
Bel. That's only that the Men may like her better than her Neighbour. No, if there were no Men, adieu fine Petticoats, we should be weary of wearing 'em.
Bel. That's just so the men might like her more than her neighbor. No, if there were no men, goodbye fancy petticoats; we would get tired of wearing them.
Lady Brute. And adieu Plays, we should be weary of seeing 'em.
Lady Brute. And goodbye to plays; we should be tired of watching them.
Bel. Adieu Hyde Park, the Dust would choak us.
Bel. Goodbye Hyde Park, the dust would choke us.
Lady Brute. Adieu St. James's, walking would tire us.
Lady Brute. Goodbye St. James's, walking would wear us out.
Bel. Adieu London, the Smoke would stifle us.
Bel. Goodbye London, the pollution would suffocate us.
Lady Brute. And adieu going to Church, for Religion wou'd ne'er prevail with us.
Lady Brute. And goodbye to going to church, because religion would never work for us.
Both. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
Both. Haha!
Bel. Our Confession is so very hearty, sure we merit Absolution.
Bel. Our confession is so sincere that we definitely deserve forgiveness.
Lady Brute. Not unless we go thro' with't, and confess all. So, pr'ythee, for the Ease of our Consciences, let's hide nothing.
Lady Brute. Not unless we go through with it and confess everything. So, please, for the sake of our consciences, let’s hide nothing.
Bel. Agreed.
Agreed.
Lady Brute. Why, then, I confess, that I love to sit in the Fore-front of a Box; for if one sits behind, there's two Acts gone, perhaps, before one's found out. And when I am there, if I perceive the Men whispering and looking upon me, you must know I cannot for my Life forbear thinking they talk to my Advantage; and that sets a thousand little tickling Vanities on foot——
Lady Brute. Well, I admit that I love sitting at the front of a box; because if you sit in the back, you might miss the first two acts before you even notice. And when I'm up there, if I see the men whispering and looking at me, I can't help but think they're chatting about me in a good way; and that triggers a thousand little annoying vanities.
Bel. Just my Case, for all the World; but go on.
Bel. That's exactly how I feel, without a doubt; but keep going.
Lady Brute. I watch with Impatience for the next Jest in the Play, that I might laugh, and shew my white Teeth. If the Poet has been dull, and the Jest be long[Pg 164] a-coming, I pretend to whisper one to my Friend, and from thence fall into a little small Discourse, in which I take occasion to shew my Face in all Humours, brisk, pleas'd, serious, melancholy, languishing——Not that what we say to one another causes any of these alterations. But——
Lady Brute. I eagerly wait for the next joke in the play so I can laugh and show off my white teeth. If the poet is dull and the joke takes too long to arrive[Pg 164], I pretend to share one with my friend, and then I slip into a light conversation where I get to show my face in all kinds of moods: lively, pleased, serious, sad, and weary. It’s not that what we say to each other causes any of these changes. But——
Bel. Don't trouble yourself to explain. For if I'm not mistaken, you and I have had some of these necessary Dialogues before now with the same Intention.
Bel. Don't worry about explaining. Because if I'm correct, you and I have had some of these important conversations before with the same purpose.
Lady Brute. Why, I swear, Belinda, some People do give strange agreeable Airs to their Faces in speaking. Tell me true—Did you never practise in the Glass?
Lady Brute. I swear, Belinda, some people give such strange, pleasant expressions to their faces when they speak. Tell me honestly—Have you ever practiced in front of a mirror?
Bel. Why, did you?
Bel. Why, did you?
Lady Brute. Yes, 'faith, many a time.
Lady Brute. Yeah, for sure, many times.
Bel. And I too, I own it; both how to speak myself, and how to look when others speak. But my Glass and I could never yet agree what Face I should make when they come blunt out with a nasty thing in a Play: For all the Men presently look upon the Women, that's certain: so laugh we must not, tho' our Stays burst for't, because that's telling Truth, and owning we understand the Jest. And to look serious is so dull, when the whole House is a laughing—
Bel. I admit it; I know how to speak for myself and how to react when others are speaking. But my reflection and I can never agree on what expression I should have when they suddenly say something unpleasant in a play. It's clear that all the men immediately look at the women: so we can't laugh, even if our corsets are bursting, because that would mean we're acknowledging the truth and that we get the joke. And looking serious is so boring when the whole audience is laughing—
Lady Brute. Besides, that looking serious does really betray our Knowledge in the matter, as much as laughing with the Company would do: For if we did not understand the thing, we shou'd naturally do like other People.
Lady Brute. Plus, acting serious really shows how much we know about the situation, just like laughing with everyone else would: Because if we didn’t get it, we’d naturally behave like everyone else.
Bel. For my part, I always take that occasion to blow my Nose.
Bel. For me, I always take that opportunity to blow my nose.
Lady Brute. You must blow your Nose half off, then, at some Plays.
Lady Brute. You might as well blow your nose halfway off at some shows.
Bel. Why don't some Reformer or other be at the Poet for't?
Bel. Why doesn't some Reformer step in for the Poet?
Lady Brute. Because he is not so sure of our private Approbation, as of our publick Thanks. Well, sure there is not upon Earth so impertinent a thing as Women's Modesty.
Lady Brute. Because he isn't as confident in our private approval as he is in our public thanks. Well, surely there is nothing on Earth as annoying as women's modesty.
Bel. Yes: Men's Fantasque, that obliges us to it. If we quit our Modesty, they say we lose our Charms:[Pg 165] and yet they know that very Modesty is Affectation, and rail at our Hypocrisy.
Bel. Yeah: Men's Fantasque, that forces us into it. If we let go of our Modesty, they say we lose our Charms:[Pg 165] and yet they know that very Modesty is just Pretending, and criticize our Hypocrisy.
Lady Brute. Thus, one would think 'twere a hard matter to please 'em, Niece; yet our kind Mother Nature has given us something that makes amends for all. Let our Weakness be what it will, Mankind will still be weaker; and whilst there is a World, 'tis Woman that will govern it. But, pr'ythee, one Word of poor Constant before we go to bed, if it be but to furnish matter for Dreams: I dare swear he's talking of me now, or thinking of me at least, tho' it be in the middle of his Prayers.
Lady Brute. One might think it's really hard to please them, Niece; yet our kind Mother Nature has given us something that makes up for everything. Whatever our weaknesses might be, humanity will always be weaker; and as long as there’s a world, it’s women who will run it. But, please, just a word about poor Constant before we go to bed, even if it's just to inspire dreams: I bet he's talking about me right now, or at least thinking about me, even in the middle of his prayers.
Bel. So he ought, I think; for you were pleas'd to make him a good round Advance to-day, Madam.
Bel. I believe he should, because you were kind enough to give him a nice raise today, Madam.
Lady Brute. Why, I have e'en plagu'd him enough to satisfy any reasonable Woman: He has besieg'd me these two Years, to no purpose.
Lady Brute. Well, I've bothered him enough to please any sensible woman: He's been chasing after me for two years, and it hasn’t led anywhere.
Bel. And if he besieg'd you two Years more, he'd be well enough pay'd, so he had the plundering of you at last.
Bel. And if he spent two more years trying to capture you, he’d be more than satisfied as long as he got to loot you in the end.
Lady Brute. That may be; but I'm afraid the Town won't be able to hold out much longer: for to confess the Truth to you, Belinda, the Garrison begins to grow mutinous.
Lady Brute. That might be true; but I'm worried the Town won't be able to hold out much longer: to be honest with you, Belinda, the Garrison is starting to get rebellious.
Bel. Then the sooner you capitulate, the better.
Bel. Then the sooner you give in, the better.
Lady Brute. Yet, methinks, I wou'd fain stay a little longer to see you fix'd too, that we might start together, and see who cou'd love longest. What think you, if Heartfree shou'd have a Month's Mind to you?
Lady Brute. Still, I think I’d like to stay a bit longer to see you settled too, so we could leave together and find out who could love the longest. What do you think, if Heartfree should develop a strong interest in you?
Bel. Why, 'faith, I cou'd almost be in love with him for despising that foolish, affected Lady Fancyfull; but I'm afraid he's too cold ever to warm himself by my Fire.
Bel. Honestly, I could almost fall for him just for disregarding that silly, pretentious Lady Fancyfull; but I'm worried he's too distant to ever feel the warmth of my Fire.
Lady Brute. Then he deserves to be froze to death. Wou'd I were a Man for your sake, dear Rogue! [Kissing her.]
Lady Brute. Then he deserves to freeze to death. I wish I were a man for your sake, dear rogue! [Kissing her.]
Bel. You'd wish yourself a Woman again for your own, or the Men are mistaken. But if I cou'd make a Conquest of this Son of Bacchus, and rival his Bottle, what shou'd I do with him? He has no Fortune, I can't marry him: and sure you wou'd not have me commit Fornication?
Bel. You'd want to be a woman again for your own sake, or the guys are wrong. But if I could win over this son of Bacchus and compete with his drink, what would I do with him? He has no money, I can't marry him: and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to commit fornication?
Lady Brute. Why, if you did, Child, 'twould be but a good friendly part; if 'twere only to keep me in countenance whilst I commit—you know what.
Lady Brute. Well, if you did, Child, it would just be a nice friendly thing to do; even if it's just to support me while I do—you know what.
Bel. Well, if I can't resolve to serve you that way, I may perhaps some other, as much to your Satisfaction. But pray how shall we contrive to see these Blades again quickly?
Bel. Well, if I can't decide to serve you that way, I might be able to in another way that will satisfy you just as much. But how can we arrange to see these guys again soon?
Lady Brute. We must e'en have recourse to the old way; make 'em an Appointment 'twixt Jest and Earnest; 'twill look like a Frolick, and that you know 's a very good thing to save a Woman's Blushes.
Lady Brute. We must go back to the old method; set up an appointment that’s half fun and half serious; it will seem like a joke, and you know that’s a great way to spare a woman’s embarrassment.
Bel. You advise well; but where shall it be?
Bel. You're giving good advice; but where should it be?
Lady Brute. In Spring Garden. But they shan't know their Women, till their Women pull off their Masks; for a Surprize is the most agreeable thing in the World: And I find myself in a very good Humour, ready to do 'em any good turn I can think on.
Lady Brute. In Spring Garden. But they won't really know their women until the women take off their masks; because a surprise is the most enjoyable thing in the world: And I feel really good, ready to do them any favor I can think of.
Bel. Then pray write 'em the necessary Billet, without farther delay.
Bel. Then please write them the necessary note, without any further delay.
Lady Brute. Let's go into your Chamber, then, and whilst you say your Prayers I'll do it, Child.
Lady Brute. Let's head to your room, then, and while you say your prayers, I'll take care of it, kid.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
ACT IV.
SCENE, Covent Garden.
Enter Lord Rake, Sir John, &c. with Swords drawn.
Enter Lord Rake it up, Sir John, etc. with swords drawn.
Lord Rake. Is the Dog dead?
Lord Rake. Is the Dog dead?
Col. Bully. No, damn him, I heard him wheeze.
Col. Bully. No, damn him, I heard him wheeze.
Lord Rake. How the Witch his Wife howl'd!
Lord Rake. How the Witch his Wife screamed!
Col. Bully. Ay, she'll alarm the Watch presently.
Col. Bully. Yeah, she'll alert the Watch soon.
Lord Rake. Appear, Knight, then; come, you have a good Cause to fight for—there's a Man murder'd.
Lord Rake. Show yourself, Knight; come on, you have a strong reason to fight—there's a man who’s been murdered.
Sir John. Is there? Then let his Ghost be satisfy'd;[Pg 167] for I'll sacrifice a Constable to it presently, and burn his Body upon his wooden Chair.
Sir John. Is he here? Then let his ghost be appeased;[Pg 167] for I'll offer up a constable to it right away, and burn his body on his wooden chair.
Enter a Taylor, with a Bundle under his Arm.
Enter a Taylor, carrying a Bundle under his Arm.
Col. Bully. How now? What have we got here? A Thief.
Col. Bully. What's going on? What do we have here? A thief.
Taylor. No, an't please you, I'm no Thief.
Taylor. No, please don't think that I'm a thief.
Lord Rake. That we'll see presently: Here, let the General examine him.
Lord Rake. We'll find out soon enough: For now, let the General take a look at him.
Sir John. Ay, ay, let me examine him, and I'll lay a hundred Pound I find him guilty, in spite of his Teeth—for he looks—like a—sneaking Rascal. Come, Sirrah, without Equivocation or mental Reservation, tell me of what Opinion you are, and what Calling; for by them——I shall guess at your Morals.
Sir John. Yes, yes, let me check him out, and I’ll bet a hundred pounds I find him guilty, no matter his protests—he looks like a sneaky little rascal. Come on, tell me straight up, without any dodging or hesitation, what you believe and what you do for work; from that, I’ll figure out your morals.
Taylor. An't please you, I'm a Dissenting Journeyman Taylor.
Taylor. If it pleases you, I'm a Dissenting Journeyman Taylor.
Sir John. Then, Sirrah, you love Lying by your Religion, and Theft by your Trade: And so, that your Punishment may be suitable to your Crimes—I'll have you first gagg'd—and then hang'd.
Sir John. So, you enjoy lying in the name of your religion and stealing through your trade, huh? Well, to ensure your punishment fits your crimes—I'll have you first gagged—and then hanged.
Tayl. Pray, good worthy Gentlemen, don't abuse me: indeed I'm an honest Man, and a good Workman, tho' I say it, that should not say it.
Tayl. Please, good gentlemen, don’t mistreat me: I swear I'm an honest man and a skilled worker, even though I shouldn’t say that myself.
Sir John. No Words, Sirrah, but attend your Fate.
Sir John. No words, man, just accept your fate.
Lord Rake. Let me see what's in that Bundle.
Lord Rake. Let me check out what's in that bundle.
Tayl. An't please you, it is the Doctor of the Parish's Gown.
Tayl. If it pleases you, it's the Doctor of the Parish's gown.
Lord Rake. The Doctor's Gown!—--Hark you, Knight, you won't stick at abusing the Clergy, will you?
Lord Rake. The Doctor's Gown!—--Listen, Knight, you’re not going to hold back on criticizing the Clergy, are you?
Sir John. No, I'm drunk, and I'll abuse any thing—but my Wife; and her I name—with Reverence.
Sir John. No, I'm drunk, and I'll insult anything—but my Wife; and I mention her—with respect.
Lord Rake. Then you shall wear this Gown, whilst you charge the Watch; that tho' the Blows fall upon you, the Scandal may light upon the Church.
Lord Rake. Then you shall wear this gown while you take on the Watch; so that even if the blows hit you, the scandal can fall on the Church.
Sir John. A generous Design——by all the Gods——give it me.
Sir John. A generous plan—by all the gods—grant it to me.
[Takes the Gown, and puts it on.
[Puts on the dress.]
Tayl. O dear Gentlemen, I shall be quite undone, if you take the Gown.
Tayl. Oh dear gentlemen, I'll be completely ruined if you take the gown.
Sir John. Retire, Sirrah; and since you carry off your Skin—go home and be happy.
Sir John. Go away, buddy; and since you’re taking your skin with you—go home and be happy.
Tayl. [Pausing.] I think I had e'en as good follow the Gentleman's friendly Advice; for if I dispute any longer, who knows but the Whim may take him to case me? These Courtiers are fuller of Tricks than they are of Money; they'll sooner cut a Man's Throat, than pay his Bill.
Tayl. [Pausing.] I think I’d better take the Gentleman’s friendly advice; if I keep arguing, who knows if he might decide to go after me? These Courtiers are packed with tricks and have more schemes than money; they’d rather stab you in the back than settle a tab.
[Exit Taylor.
[Exit Taylor.
Sir John. So, how do you like my Shapes now?
Sir John. So, what do you think of my Shapes now?
Lord Rake. This will do to a Miracle; he looks like a Bishop going to the Holy War. But to your Arms, Gentlemen, the Enemy appears.
Lord Rake. This is good enough for a miracle; he looks like a bishop heading to a holy war. But to your weapons, gentlemen, the enemy is here.
Enter Constable and Watch.
Enter Officer and Watch.
Watch. Stand! Who goes there? Come before the Constable.
Watch. Halt! Who's there? Step forward to the Constable.
Sir John. The Constable is a Rascal——and you are the Son of a Whore.
Sir John. The Constable is a jerk—and you are the son of a bitch.
Watch. A good civil Answer for a Parson, truly!
Look. A really good response from a priest, for sure!
Constab. Methinks, Sir, a Man of your Coat might set a better Example.
Constab. I think, sir, a man in your position could set a better example.
Sir John. Sirrah, I'll make you know——there are Men of my Coat can set as bad Examples——as you can do, you Dog, you.
Sir John. Listen up, I'll let you know—there are guys in my position who can set as bad examples as you can, you dog, you.
[Sir John strikes the Constable. They knock him down, disarm him, and seize him. Lord Rake, &c. run away.
Sir John hits the Constable. They take him down, disarm him, and capture him. Lord Rake, etc. run away.
Constab. So, we have secur'd the Parson, however.
Constab. So, we’ve got the pastor secured, after all.
Sir John. Blood, and Blood——and Blood.
Sir John. Blood, and Blood—and Blood.
Watch. Lord have mercy upon us! How the wicked Wretch raves of Blood! I'll warrant he has been murdering some body to-night.
Watch. Lord have mercy on us! Look how the evil man is raving about blood! I bet he's been murdering someone tonight.
Sir John. Sirrah, there's nothing got by Murder but a Halter: My Talent lies towards Drunkenness and Simony.
Sir John. Hey there, nothing good comes from murder but a noose: I’m more into drinking and shady deals.
Watch. Why, that now was spoke like a Man of Parts, Neighbours; 'tis pity he shou'd be so disguised.
Watch. Wow, that was said like a real man, neighbors; it's a shame he has to hide himself like this.
Sir John. You lye——I'm not disguis'd; for I am drunk barefac'd.
Sir John. You're lying—I'm not hiding anything; I'm completely drunk.
Watch. Look you there again—This is a mad Parson, Mr. Constable; I'll lay a Pot of Ale upon 's Head, he's a good Preacher.
Watch. Look over there again—This is a crazy pastor, Mr. Constable; I'll bet a mug of beer that he's a good preacher.
Constab. Come, Sir, out of respect to your Calling, I[Pg 169] shan't put you into the Round-house; but we must secure you in our Drawing-room till Morning, that you may do no Mischief. So, come along.
Constab. Come on, sir, out of respect for your profession, I[Pg 169] won't throw you in the Round-house; but we have to keep you in our Drawing-room until morning, so you don't cause any trouble. So, let's go.
Sir John. You may put me where you will, Sirrah, now you have overcome me——But if I can't do Mischief, I'll think of Mischief—in spite of your Teeth, you Dog, you.
Sir John. You can put me wherever you want, dude, now that you've beaten me—but if I can't cause any trouble, I'll just think of trouble—even if it annoys you, you jerk.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, A Bed-Chamber.
Enter Heartfree solus.
Enter Heartfree alone.
What the Plague ails me?——Love? No, I thank you for that, my Heart's Rock still——Yet 'tis Belinda that disturbs me; that's positive——Well, what of all that? Must I love her for being troublesome? At that rate I might love all the Women I meet, I'gad. But hold!—Tho' I don't love her for disturbing me, yet she may disturb me, because I love her——Ay, that may be, 'faith. I have dreamt of her, that's certain——Well, so I have of my Mother; therefore what's that to the purpose? Ay, but Belinda runs in my Mind waking—and so does many a damn'd thing that I don't care a Farthing for——Methinks, tho', I would fain be talking to her, and yet I have no Business——Well, am I the first Man that has had a Mind to do an impertinent thing?
What is wrong with me? Love? No, thanks for that, my heart is still solid—Yet it's Belinda that’s bothering me; that's for sure—Well, so what? Do I have to love her just because she’s annoying? At this rate, I could love all the women I meet, honestly. But wait!—Even though I don’t love her for bothering me, she might bother me because I love her—Yeah, that could be true, honestly. I've dreamed of her, that’s for sure—Well, I’ve also dreamed of my mother; so what does that mean? Yeah, but Belinda is on my mind while I’m awake—and so are a lot of damn things I couldn’t care less about—Still, I feel like I would love to talk to her, and yet I have no reason to—Well, am I the first guy who ever wanted to do something ridiculous?
Enter Constant.
Enter Constant.
Const. How now, Heartfree? What makes you up and dress'd so soon? I thought none but Lovers quarrell'd with their Beds; I expected to have found you snoring, as I us'd to do.
Const. Hey, Heartfree, why are you up and dressed so early? I thought only lovers fought with their beds. I expected to find you snoring like I usually do.
Heart. Why, 'faith, Friend, 'tis the Care I have of your Affairs, that makes me so thoughtful; I have been studying all Night how to bring your matter about with Belinda.
Heart. I swear, friend, it’s my concern for your situation that has me so worried; I’ve spent all night thinking about how to help you out with Belinda.
Const. With Belinda?
Const. With Belinda?
Heart. With my Lady, I mean: And, 'faith, I have mighty Hopes on't. Sure you must be very well satisfied with her Behaviour to you yesterday?
Heart. I mean with my Lady: And, honestly, I have high hopes for it. You must be quite pleased with how she acted towards you yesterday, right?
Const. So well, that nothing but a Lover's Fears can make me doubt of Success. But what can this sudden Change proceed from?
Const. So well, that only a Lover's Fears can make me doubt my success. But what could be behind this sudden change?
Heart. Why, you saw her Husband beat her, did you not?
Heart. Did you not see her husband hitting her?
Const. That's true: A Husband is scarce to be borne upon any terms, much less when he fights with his Wife. Methinks, she shou'd e'en have cuckolded him upon the very spot, to shew that after the Battle she was Master of the Field.
Const. That's true: A husband is hard to put up with under any circumstances, especially when he argues with his wife. I think she should have cheated on him right then and there to show that after the fight, she was in control.
Heart. A Council of War of Women wou'd infallibly have advis'd her to't. But, I confess, so agreeable a Woman as Belinda deserves better Usage.
Heart. A Council of War made up of women definitely would have advised her to do it. But, I admit, such a charming woman as Belinda deserves better treatment.
Const. Belinda again!
Belinda again!
Heart. My Lady, I mean. What a Pox makes me blunder so to-day? [Aside.] A Plague of this treacherous Tongue!
Heart. My lady, I mean. What on earth is causing me to mess up so badly today? [Aside.] This cursed tongue of mine!
Const. Pr'ythee, look upon me seriously, Heartfree—Now answer me directly: Is it my Lady, or Belinda, employs your careful Thoughts thus?
Const. Please, look at me seriously, Heartfree—Now answer me directly: Is it my lady, or Belinda, that occupies your thoughts like this?
Heart. My Lady, or Belinda?
Heart. My Lady, or Belinda?
Const. In Love; by this Light, in Love.
Const. In Love; by this Light, in Love.
Heart. In Love!
Heart. In Love!
Const. Nay, ne'er deny it; for thou'lt do it so aukwardly, 'twill but make the Jest sit heavier about thee. My dear Friend, I give thee much Joy.
Const. No, don’t deny it; because you'll do it so awkwardly, it will just make the joke feel heavier on you. My dear friend, I wish you much joy.
Heart. Why, pr'ythee, you won't persuade me to it, will you?
Heart. Come on, you can't be serious about convincing me to do that, can you?
Const. That she's Mistress of your Tongue, that's plain; and I know you are so honest a Fellow, your Tongue and Heart always go together. But how, but how the Devil? Pha, ha, ha, ha—
Const. It's clear that she's in control of your words, and I know you're such an honest guy that your words and feelings are always in sync. But how, but how could this happen? Ha, ha, ha—
Heart. Hey-dey! Why, sure you don't believe it in earnest?
Heart. Hey there! You can't be serious, can you?
Const. Yes, I do, because I see you deny it in jest.
Const. Yes, I do, because I see you are joking about it.
Heart. Nay, but look you, Ned—a——deny in jest——a——gadzooks, you know I say——a——when a Man denies a thing in jest—a—
Heart. No, but listen, Ned—to deny something as a joke—a—wow, you know what I mean—a—when a guy denies something as a joke—a—
Const. Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
Heart. Nay, then we shall have it: What, because a Man stumbles at a Word: did you never make a Blunder?
Heart. No, then we'll go with it: What, just because a guy messes up a word: have you never made a mistake?
Const. Yes; for I am in Love, I own it.
Const. Yes; I'm in love, and I admit it.
Heart. Then, so am I—Now laugh till thy Soul's glutted with Mirth. [Embracing him.] But, dear Constant, don't tell the Town on't.
Heart. Then, so am I—Now laugh until your soul is full of joy. [Embracing him.] But, dear Constant, don't tell the town about it.
Const. Nay, then, 'twere almost pity to laugh at thee, after so honest a Confession. But tell us a little, Jack, by what new-invented Arms has this mighty Stroke been given?
Const. No, it would almost be a shame to laugh at you after such an honest confession. But tell us a little, Jack, what new weapons were used to deliver this mighty blow?
Heart. E'en by that unaccountable Weapon call'd Je-ne-sçai-quoy: For every thing that can come within the Verge of Beauty, I have seen it with indifference.
Heart. Even by that mysterious weapon called Je-ne-sçai-quoy: For everything that falls within the realm of beauty, I have observed it with indifference.
Const. So in few Words, then, the Je-ne-sçai-quoy has been too hard for the quilted Petticoat.
Const. So in a few words, then, the je-ne-sçai-quoy has been too much for the quilted petticoat.
Heart. I'gad, I think the Je-ne-sçai-quoy is in the quilted Petticoat; at least 'tis certain, I ne'er think on't without——a——a Je-ne-sçai-quoy in every Part about me.
Heart. Honestly, I believe the Je-ne-sçai-quoy is in the quilted petticoat; at least it's clear that I never think about it without—uh—a Je-ne-sçai-quoy in every part of me.
Const. Well, but have all your Remedies lost their Virtue? Have you turn'd her inside out yet?
Const. Well, have all your remedies lost their effectiveness? Have you flipped her inside out yet?
Heart. I dare not so much as think on't.
Heart. I can’t even think about it.
Const. But don't the two Years Fatigue I have had discourage you?
Const. But don't the two years of fatigue I've had discourage you?
Heart. Yes: I dread what I foresee; yet cannot quit the Enterprize. Like some Soldiers, whose Courage dwells more in their Honour, than their Nature—on they go, tho' the Body trembles at what the Soul makes it undertake.
Heart. Yes: I fear what I see coming; yet I can't back out of this venture. Like some soldiers, whose bravery lies more in their honor than in their nature—off they go, even though their body shakes at what their soul pushes them to do.
Const. Nay, if you expect your Mistress will use you as your Profanations against her Sex deserve, you tremble justly. But how do you intend to proceed, Friend?
Const. No, if you think your Mistress will treat you the way your disrespect for her gender deserves, you're right to be scared. But how do you plan to move forward, Friend?
Heart. Thou know'st I'm but a Novice; be friendly, and advise me.
Heart. You know I'm just a beginner; please be kind and give me some guidance.
Const. Why, look you, then: I'd have you—Serenade and a——write a Song——Go to Church; Look like a Fool——Be very officious; Ogle, write and lead out: And who knows but in a Year or two's time you may[Pg 172] be——call'd a troublesome Puppy, and sent about your Business.
Const. Well, here’s what I want you to do: Serenade and—write a song—Go to church; act like a fool—be really eager; flirt, write, and lead out: And who knows, maybe in a year or two you'll be[Pg 172] called a bothersome puppy and sent on your way.
Heart. That's hard.
Heart. That’s tough.
Const. Yet thus it oft falls out with Lovers, Sir.
Const. Yet this often happens with lovers, Sir.
Heart. Pox on me for making one of the Number!
Heart. Damn me for being one of the Number!
Const. Have a care: Say no saucy things; 'twill but augment your Crime; and if your Mistress hears on't, increase your Punishment.
Const. Be careful: Don't say anything cheeky; it will only make your wrongs worse, and if your Mistress finds out, it will just add to your punishment.
Heart. Pr'ythee say something, then, to encourage me; you know I help'd you in your Distress.
Heart. Please say something to encourage me; you know I helped you when you were in trouble.
Const. Why, then, to encourage you to Perseverance, tho' you may be thoroughly ill-us'd for your Offences; I'll put you in mind, that even the coyest Ladies of 'em all are made up of Desires, as well as we; and tho' they do hold out a long time, they will capitulate at last. For that thundering Engineer, Nature, does make such havock in the Town, they must surrender at long run, or perish in their own Flames.
Const. So, to motivate you to keep going, even if you've been treated badly for your mistakes, I'll remind you that even the shyest ladies are filled with desires just like us. Although they may hold out for a while, they will eventually give in. Because that powerful force, Nature, causes so much chaos that they have to yield in the end, or they will be consumed by their own passions.
Enter a Footman.
Enter a servant.
Foot. Sir, there's a Porter without with a Letter; he desires to give it into your own Hands.
Foot. Sir, there's a messenger outside with a letter; he wants to hand it to you personally.
Const. Call him in.
Call him in.
Enter Porter.
Enter the porter.
Const. What, Joe! Is it thee?
Hey, Joe! Is that you?
Porter. An't please you, Sir, I was order'd to deliver this into your own Hands by two well-shap'd Ladies, at the New Exchange. I was at your Honour's Lodgings, and your Servants sent me hither.
Porter. If it pleases you, Sir, I was instructed to deliver this directly into your hands by two lovely ladies at the New Exchange. I went to your place, and your staff sent me here.
Const. 'Tis well; are you to carry any Answer?
Const. That's good; are you going to take any response?
Porter. No, my noble Master. They gave me my Orders, and whip they were gone, like a Maidenhead at Fifteen.
Porter. No, my noble Master. They gave me my orders, and in a flash, they were gone, like a girl’s virginity at fifteen.
Const. Very well; there.
Got it; there.
[Gives him Money.
Gives him money.
Porter. God bless your Honour!
Porter. God bless you, Your Honor!
[Exit Porter.
[Exit Porter.
Const. Now let's see what honest, trusty Joe has brought us.
Const. Now let's see what reliable, trustworthy Joe has brought us.
Reads.
Reads.
If you and your Play-Fellow can spare time from your Business and Devotions, don't fail to be at Spring-Garden about Eight in the Evening. You'll find nothing there but Women, so you need bring no other Arms than what you usually carry about you.
If you and your friend can take a break from your work and responsibilities, make sure to be at Spring Garden around 8 in the evening. There will only be women there, so you don’t need to bring anything more than what you usually have on you.
So, Play-fellow: here's something to stay your Stomach till your Mistress's Dish is ready for you.
So, friend: here's something to hold you over until your lady's meal is ready for you.
Heart. Some of our old batter'd Acquaintance. I won't go, not I.
Heart. Some of our old battered acquaintances. I'm not going, that's for sure.
Const. Nay, that you can't avoid; there's Honour in the Case; 'tis a Challenge, and I want a Second.
Const. No, you can't get out of this; it's about Honor. It's a Challenge, and I need a Second.
Heart. I doubt I shall be but a very useless one to you; for I'm so dishearten'd by this Wound Belinda has given me, I don't think I shall have Courage enough to draw my Sword.
Heart. I doubt I’ll be much use to you; I’m so discouraged by this wound Belinda has given me that I don't think I’ll have the courage to draw my sword.
Const. O, if that be all, come along; I'll warrant you find Sword enough for such Enemies as we have to deal withal.
Const. Oh, if that's all it is, let's go; I guarantee you'll find plenty of swords for the enemies we have to face.
[Exeunt.
[Leave the stage.]
SCENE, A Street.
Enter Constable, &c. with Sir John.
Enter Constable, etc. with Sir John.
Constab. Come along, Sir; I thought to have let you slip this Morning, because you were a Minister; but you are as drunk and as abusive as ever. We'll see what the Justice of the Peace will say to you.
Constab. Come on, Sir; I almost let you avoid this this morning because you’re a Minister; but you’re as drunk and as rude as always. Let’s see what the Justice of the Peace has to say to you.
Sir John. And you shall see what I'll say to the Justice of the Peace, Sirrah.
Sir John. And you'll find out what I'm going to say to the Justice of the Peace, my friend.
[They knock at the Door.
They knock on the door.
Enter Servant.
Enter the servant.
Constab. Pray, acquaint his Worship, we have got an unruly Parson here: We are unwilling to expose him, but don't know what to do with him.
Constab. Please let his Worship know that we have a disruptive priest here. We don't want to make him look bad, but we’re not sure how to handle him.
Serv. I'll acquaint my Master.
I'll inform my boss.
[Exit Serv.
[Exit Service]
Sir John. You——Constable—What damn'd Justice is this?
Sir John. You—Constable—What kind of justice is this?
Constab. One that will take Care of you, I warrant you.
Constab. Someone who will look after you, I promise.
Enter Justice.
Welcome, Justice.
Just. Well, Mr. Constable, what's the Disorder here?
Just. So, Mr. Constable, what's going on here?
Constab. An't please your Worship——
Constable. Can't please your Honor——
Sir John. Let me speak, and be damn'd: I'm a Divine, and can unfold Mysteries better than you can do.
Sir John. Let me speak, and damn the consequences: I'm a Divine, and I can explain Mysteries better than you can.
Just. Sadness, sadness! A Minister so overtaken! Pray, Sir, give the Constable leave to speak, and I'll hear you very patiently: I assure you, Sir, I will.
Just. Sadness, sadness! A Minister so overwhelmed! Please, Sir, let the Constable speak, and I'll listen to you very patiently: I promise you, Sir, I will.
Sir John. Sir——You are a very civil Magistrate! Your most humble Servant.
Sir John. Sir—you are a very courteous magistrate! Your most humble servant.
Constab. An't please your Worship, then, he has attempted to beat the Watch to-night, and swore——
Constab. If it pleases your Honor, then, he tried to attack the Watch tonight and swore——
Sir John. You lye.
Sir John. You're lying.
Just. Hold, pray, Sir, a little.
Just. Hold on, pray, Sir, a moment.
Sir John. Sir, your very humble Servant.
Sir John. Sir, your very humble servant.
Constab. Indeed, Sir, he came at us without any Provocation, call'd us Whores and Rogues, and laid us on with a great Quarter-staff. He was in my Lord Rake's Company: They have been playing the Devil to-night.
Constab. Honestly, Sir, he attacked us without any reason, called us whores and rogues, and hit us with a big quarterstaff. He was with Lord Rake: They’ve been causing trouble tonight.
Just. Hem——Hem——Pray, Sir——may you be Chaplain to my Lord?
Just. Hem——Hem——Please, sir——could you be the Chaplain to my Lord?
Sir John. Sir——I presume——I may if I will.
Sir John. Sir—I assume—I can if I choose.
Just. My meaning, Sir, is——Are you so?
Just. What I mean, Sir, is——Are you really?
Sir John. Sir—You mean very well.
Sir John. Sir—You mean well.
Just. He, hem——hem——Under Favour, Sir, pray answer me directly.
Sure. Could you please answer me directly, Sir?
Sir John. Under Favour, Sir——Do you use to answer directly when you are drunk?
Sir John. By the way, Sir——Do you usually respond directly when you're drunk?
Just. Good lack, good lack! Here's nothing to be got from him: Pray, Sir, may I crave your Name?
Just. Good grief, good grief! There's nothing to be gained from him: Please, sir, can I ask for your name?
Sir John. Sir——My Name's——[He hiccups.] Hiccup, Sir.
Sir John. Sir——My name is——[He hiccups.] Hiccup, Sir.
Just. Hiccup? Doctor Hiccup, I have known a great many Country Parsons of that Name, especially down in the Fenns. Pray where do you live, Sir?
Just. Hiccup? Doctor Hiccup, I've met a lot of country pastors with that name, especially down in the Fenns. May I ask where you live, Sir?
Sir John. Here——and there, Sir.
Sir John. Here and there, Sir.
Just. Why, what a strange Man is this! Where do you preach, Sir? Have you any Cure?
Just. Wow, what a strange guy you are! Where do you preach, sir? Do you have any congregation?
Sir John. Sir——I have——a very good Cure——for a Clap, at your Service.
Sir John. Sir—I have—a really effective treatment—for a clap, at your service.
Just. Lord have mercy upon us!
Just. Lord, have mercy on us!
Sir John. [Aside.] This Fellow asks so many impertinent Questions, I believe, I'gad, 'tis the Justice's Wife in the Justice's Clothes.
Sir John. [Aside.] This guy is asking so many annoying questions, I swear, it must be the Justice's wife in the Justice's clothes.
Just. Mr. Constable, I vow and protest, I don't know what to do with him.
Seriously. Mr. Constable, I swear, I have no idea what to do with him.
Constab. Truly, he has been but a troublesome Guest to us all Night.
Constab. Honestly, he has been nothing but a difficult guest to us all night.
Just. I think, I had e'en best let him go about his Business; for I'm unwilling to expose him.
Just. I think I should just let him go about his business, because I don't want to put him in a tough spot.
Constab. E'en what your Worship thinks fit.
Constable. Whatever you think is right.
Sir John. Sir——not to interrupt Mr. Constable, I have a small Favour to ask.
Sir John. Sir—not to interrupt Mr. Constable, I have a quick favor to ask.
Just. Sir, I open both my Ears to you.
Just. Sir, I'm all ears for you.
Sir John. Sir, your very humble Servant. I have a little urgent Business calls upon me; and therefore I desire the Favour of you to bring Matters to a Conclusion.
Sir John. Sir, I am your very humble servant. I have some urgent matters that require my attention, so I kindly ask you to help wrap things up.
Just. Sir, if I were sure that Business were not to commit more Disorders, I wou'd release you.
Just. Sir, if I was confident that Business wouldn't cause any more troubles, I would let you go.
Sir John. None——By my Priesthood!
Sir John. None—By my Priesthood!
Just. Then, Mr. Constable, you may discharge him.
Just. Then, Mr. Constable, you can let him go.
Sir John. Sir, your very humble Servant. If you please to accept of a Bottle—
Sir John. Sir, your very humble servant. If you’d like to accept a bottle—
Just. I thank you, kindly, Sir; but I never drink in a Morning. Good-by t'ye, Sir, good-by t'ye.
Just. Thank you, sir, but I never drink in the morning. Goodbye to you, sir, goodbye to you.
Sir John. Good by t'ye, good Sir. [Exit Justice.] So——now, Mr. Constable, shall you and I go pick up a Whore together?
Sir John. Goodbye to you, good Sir. [Exit Justice.] So——now, Mr. Constable, shall we go find a prostitute together?
Constab. No, thank you, Sir; my Wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable Man.
Constab. No, thank you, Sir; my wife is enough to satisfy any reasonable person.
Sir John. [Aside.] He, he, he, he—the Fool is married, then. Well, you won't go?
Sir John. [Aside.] Ha, ha, ha—the Fool is married now. So, you won't leave?
Constab. Not I, truly.
Not me, truly.
Sir John. Then I'll go by myself; and you and your[Pg 176] Wife may be damn'd.
Sir John. Then I'll go on my own; and you and your[Pg 176] wife can just deal with it.
[Exit Sir John.
[Exit Sir John.
Constable. [Gazing after him.] Why, God a-mercy, Parson?
Constable. [Watching him leave.] Why, good grief, Parson?
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, Spring-Garden.
Constant and Heartfree cross the Stage. As they go off, enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle mask'd, and dogging 'em.
Constant and Heart-free walk across the stage. As they exit, enter Lady Fanciful and Miss, wearing masks and following them.
Const. So; I think we are about the time appointed: let us walk up this way.
Const. Alright, I think it's about the scheduled time: let's head this way.
[Exeunt.
[Leave the stage.]
Lady Fan. Good: Thus far I have dogg'd 'em without being discover'd. 'Tis infallibly some Intrigue that brings them to Spring-Garden. How my poor Heart is torn and rackt with Fear and Jealousy! Yet let it be any thing but that Flirt Belinda, and I'll try to bear it. But if it prove her, all that's Woman in me shall be employ'd to destroy her.
Lady Fan. Good: So far, I've followed them without being seen. It's definitely some kind of secret that brings them to Spring-Garden. My poor heart is torn apart with fear and jealousy! But let it be anything but that flirt Belinda, and I'll do my best to handle it. But if it turns out to be her, everything that makes me a woman will be used to take her down.
[Exeunt after Constant and Heartfree.
Exeunt after Constant and Heartfree.
Re-enter Constant and Heartfree, Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle still following at a Distance.
Re-enter Constant and Heart-free, Lady Fanciful and Mademoiselle still following at a distance.
Const. I see no Females yet, that have any thing to say to us. I'm afraid we are banter'd.
Const. I don't see any women around who have anything to say to us. I'm worried we are being made fun of.
Heart. I wish we were; for I'm in no Humour to make either them or myself merry.
Heart. I wish we were; because I'm not in the mood to make either them or myself happy.
Const. Nay, I'm sure you'll make them merry enough, if I tell 'em why you are dull. But pr'ythee why so heavy and sad before you begin to be ill us'd?
Const. No, I know you’ll cheer them up enough if I explain why you’re feeling down. But seriously, why are you so heavy and sad before things even get bad?
Heart. For the same Reason, perhaps, that you are so brisk and well pleas'd; because both Pains and Pleasures are generally more considerable in Prospect, than when they come to pass.
Heart. Maybe it’s for the same reason that you feel so lively and happy; because both pain and pleasure often seem more significant when we anticipate them than when we actually experience them.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda, mask'd and poorly dress'd.
Enter Lady Brutal and Belinda, wearing masks and dressed in shabby outfits.
Const. How now! who are these? Not our Game, I hope.
Const. What’s this! Who are these people? I hope they're not our game.
Heart. If they are, we are e'en well enough serv'd, to come a-hunting here, when we had so much better Game in Chase elsewhere.
Heart. If they are, we are definitely well enough served to come hunting here, when we had much better game to chase elsewhere.
Lady Fan. [To Madamoiselle.] So, those are their Ladies, without doubt. But I'm afraid that Doily Stuff is not worn for want of better Clothes. They are the very Shape and Size of Belinda and her Aunt.
Lady Fan. [To Madamoiselle.] So, those are definitely their ladies. But I'm worried that Doily material is worn out of necessity rather than choice. They have exactly the same shape and size as Belinda and her aunt.
Madam. So dey be inteed, Matam.
Ma'am. So they are indeed, Ma'am.
Lady Fan. We'll slip into this close Arbour, where we may hear all they say.
Lady Fan. Let's hide in this cozy nook, where we can hear everything they say.
[Exeunt Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
[Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle exit.
Lady Brute. What, are you afraid of us, Gentlemen?
Lady Brute. What, are you scared of us, guys?
Heart. Why, truly, I think we may, if Appearance don't lye.
Heart. Well, I really believe we can, if appearances aren't deceiving.
Bel. Do you always find Women what they appear to be, Sir?
Bel. Do you always see women as they seem to be, Sir?
Heart. No, forsooth; but I seldom find 'em better than they appear to be.
Heart. No, not really; but I hardly ever find them better than they seem.
Bel. Then the Outside's best, you think?
Bel. So you think the Outside is the best?
Heart. 'Tis the honestest.
Heart. It's the most sincere.
Const. Have a care, Heartfree; you are relapsing again.
Const. Be careful, Heartfree; you are slipping back again.
Lady Brute. Why, does the Gentleman use to rail at Women?
Lady Brute. Why does the gentleman always complain about women?
Const. He has done formerly.
He has done before.
Bel. I suppose he had very good Cause for't. They did not use you so well as you thought you deserv'd, Sir.
Bel. I guess he had a really good reason for it. They didn't treat you as well as you thought you deserved, sir.
Lady Brute. They made themselves merry at your Expence, Sir.
Lady Brute. They had a good time at your expense, Sir.
Bel. Laugh'd when you sigh'd—
Bel. Laughed when you sighed—
Lady Brute. Slept while you were waking—
Lady Brute. Slept while you were waking—
Bel. Had your Porter beat—
Bel. Your Porter got defeated—
Lady Brute. And threw your Billet-doux in the Fire.
Lady Brute. And tossed your love letter into the fire.
Heart. Hey-day, I shall do more than rail presently.
Heart. In a bit, I'm going to do more than just complain.
Bel. Why, you won't beat us, will you?
Bel. Come on, you’re not really going to beat us, are you?
Heart. I don't know but I may.
Heart. I don't know, but I might.
Const. What the Devil's coming here? Sir John in a Gown——And drunk, i'faith.
Const. Who the hell is coming here? Sir John in a robe——And he's drunk, for sure.
Enter Sir John.
Enter Sir John.
Sir John. What a Pox——here's Constant, Heartfree—[Pg 178]and two Whores, I'gad——O you covetous Rogues! what, have you never a spare Punk for your Friend?——But I'll share with you.
Sir John. What a hassle—here's Constant, Heartfree—[Pg 178]and two ladies of the night, I swear—oh, you greedy scoundrels! What, don’t you have a spare girl for your friend?—But I’ll share with you.
[He seizes both the Women.
He grabs both women.
Heart. Why, what the plague have you been doing, Knight?
Heart. What the heck have you been up to, Knight?
Sir John. Why, I have been beating the Watch, and scandalizing the Clergy.
Sir John. Well, I’ve been causing a ruckus with the Watch and making the Clergy look bad.
Heart. A very good Account, truly.
Heart. A really good Account, truly.
Sir John. And what do you think I'll do next?
Sir John. So, what do you think I'll do next?
Const.. Nay, that no Man can guess.
Const.. No one can figure that out.
Sir John. Why, if you'll let me sup with you, I'll treat both your Strumpets.
Sir John. Well, if you let me have dinner with you, I'll take care of both your ladies.
Lady Brute. [Aside.] O Lord, we're undone!
Lady Brute. [Aside.] Oh no, we're in trouble!
Heart. No, we can't sup together, because we have some Affairs elsewhere. But if you'll accept of these two Ladies, we'll be so complaisant to you, to resign our Right in 'em.
Heart. No, we can't share a meal together because we have some other matters to attend to. But if you'll accept these two ladies, we're happy to step aside and let you have them.
Bel. [Aside.] Lord, what shall we do?
Bel. [Aside.] Lord, what are we going to do?
Sir John. Let me see; their Clothes are such damn'd Clothes, they won't pawn for the Reckoning.
Sir John. Let me think; their clothes are such terrible clothes, they won't sell for the bill.
Heart. Sir John, your Servant. Rapture attend you!
Heart. Sir John, your servant. Wishing you all the joy!
Const. Adieu, Ladies, make much of the Gentleman.
Const. Goodbye, ladies, treat the gentleman well.
Lady Brute. Why, sure, you won't leave us in the Hands of a drunken Fellow to abuse us.
Lady Brute. Come on, you can't leave us with a drunk guy who’ll mistreat us.
Sir John. Who do you call a drunken Fellow, you Slut you? I'm a Man of Quality; the King has made me a Knight.
Sir John. Who are you calling a drunken jerk, you slut? I'm a man of distinction; the King has knighted me.
[Heart. runs off.
Heart. runs away.
Heart. Ay, ay, you are in good Hands! Adieu, Adieu!
Heart. Yes, yes, you are in good hands! Goodbye, goodbye!
Lady Brute. The Devil's Hands: Let me go, or I'll—For Heaven's sake, protect us!
Lady Brute. The Devil's Hands: Let me go, or I'll—For God's sake, protect us!
[She breaks from him, runs to Constant, twitching off her Mask, and clapping it on again.
She pulls away from him, runs to Constant, quickly taking off her Mask and putting it back on.
Sir John. I'll Devil you, you Jade you. I'll demolish your ugly Face.
Sir John. I'll get you for that, you piece of work. I'll smash your ugly face.
Const. Hold a little, Knight, she swoons.
Const. Wait a moment, Knight, she's fainting.
Sir John. I'll swoon her.
Sir John. I'll impress her.
Const. Hey, Heartfree.
Hey, Heartfree.
Re-enter Heartfree. Belinda runs to him, and shews her Face.
Re-enter Heartbroken. Belinda runs to him and shows her face.
Heart. O Heavens! My dear Creature, stand there a little.
Heart. Oh my God! My dear friend, could you please stand there for a moment?
Const. Pull him off, Jack.
Const. Take him off, Jack.
Heart. Hold, mighty Man; look ye, Sir, we did but jest with you. These are Ladies of our Acquaintance that we had a mind to frighten a little, but now you must leave us.
Heart. Hold on, strong man; look, sir, we were just joking with you. These are ladies we know that we wanted to scare a little, but now you have to leave us.
Sir John. Oons, I won't leave you, not I.
Sir John. No way, I’m not leaving you.
Heart. Nay, but you must, though; and therefore make no Words on't.
Heart. No, you have to, though; so let's not talk about it.
Sir John. Then you are a couple of damned uncivil Fellows. And I hope your Punks will give you Sauce to your Mutton.
Sir John. Then you two are a couple of incredibly rude guys. And I hope your girls will give you grief for your bad behavior.
[Exit Sir John.
[Exit Sir John.
Lady Brute. Oh, I shall never come to myself again, I'm so frightened.
Lady Brute. Oh, I’ll never feel like myself again; I’m so scared.
Const. 'Twas a narrow 'Scape, indeed.
It was a narrow escape, indeed.
Bel. Women must have Frolicks, you see, whatever they cost them.
Bel. Women have to have their fun, no matter what it costs them.
Heart. This might have proved a dear one, though.
Heart. This could have turned out to be an expensive one, though.
Lady Brute. You are the more obliged to us for the Risk we run upon your Accounts.
Lady Brute. You should feel more grateful to us for the risk we take on your behalf.
Const. And I hope you'll acknowledge something due to our Knight-Errantry, Ladies. This is the second time we have delivered you.
Const. And I hope you'll recognize something we owe to our heroic efforts, Ladies. This is the second time we've rescued you.
Lady Brute. 'Tis true; and since we see Fate has designed you for our Guardians, 'twill make us the more willing to trust ourselves in your Hands. But you must not have the worse Opinion of us for our innocent Frolick.
Lady Brute. It's true; and since we see that Fate has chosen you to be our Guardians, we will be even more willing to trust ourselves in your hands. But you shouldn't think less of us because of our innocent fun.
Heart. Ladies, you may command our Opinions in every thing that is to your Advantage.
Heart. Ladies, you have the power to shape our opinions in everything that benefits you.
Bel. Then, Sir, I command you to be of Opinion, That Women are sometimes better than they appear to be.
Bel. Then, Sir, I ask you to believe that women can be better than they seem.
[Lady Brute and Constant talk apart.
Lady Brute and Constant talk separately.
Heart. Madam, you have made a Convert of me in every thing. I'm grown a Fool: I cou'd be fond of a Woman.
Heart. Madam, you’ve turned me into a convert in every way. I’ve become a fool: I could actually be fond of a woman.
Bel. I thank you, Sir, in the Name of the whole Sex.
Bel. Thank you, Sir, on behalf of all women.
Heart. Which Sex nothing but yourself cou'd ever have aton'd for.
Heart. No one but you could have ever made up for that.
Bel. Now has my Vanity a devilish Itch, to know in what my Merit consists.
Bel. Now my vanity has a devilish itch to know what my worth actually is.
Heart. In your Humility, Madam, that keeps you ignorant it consists at all.
Heart. In your humility, ma'am, that keeps you unaware it exists at all.
Bel. One other Compliment, with that serious Face, and I hate you for ever after.
Bel. One more compliment, with that serious face, and I'll hate you forever.
Heart. Some Women love to be abus'd: Is that it you wou'd be at?
Heart. Some women love to be treated badly: Is that what you’re after?
Bel. No, not that, neither: But I'd have Men talk plainly what's fit for Women to hear; without putting 'em either to a real or an affected Blush.
Bel. No, not that either: But I want men to speak clearly about what’s appropriate for women to hear; without making them actually or pretend to blush.
Heart. Why, then, in as plain Terms as I can find to express myself, I could love you even to—Matrimony itself a'most, I'gad.
Heart. So, in the simplest words I can use, I could love you almost to—marriage itself, I swear.
Bel. Just as Sir John did her Ladyship there.——What think you? Don't you believe one Month's time might bring you down to the same Indifference, only clad in a little better Manners, perhaps? Well, you Men are unaccountable things, mad till you have your Mistresses, and then stark mad till you are rid of 'em again. Tell me honestly, Is not your Patience put to a much severer Trial after Possession than before?
Bel. Just like Sir John did with her Ladyship there. What do you think? Don’t you believe that in a month’s time, you could end up feeling just as indifferent, but maybe with slightly better manners? You men are such unpredictable creatures, crazy until you have your girlfriends, and then absolutely nuts until you’re free of them again. Tell me honestly, isn’t your patience tested much more after you have them than before?
Heart. With a great many I must confess it is, to our eternal Scandal; but I——dear Creature, do but try me.
Heart. I have to admit to many that it is, to our everlasting shame; but I——dear one, just give me a chance.
Bel. That's the surest way, indeed, to know, but not the safest. [To Lady Brute.] Madam, are not you for taking a Turn in the Great Walk? It's almost dark, no body will know us.
Bel. That's definitely the best way to find out, but it’s not the safest. [To Lady Strength.] Ma'am, do you want to take a walk in the Great Walk? It’s almost dark; no one will recognize us.
Lady Brute. Really I find myself something idle, Belinda: besides, I doat upon this little odd private Corner. But don't let my lazy Fancy confine you. [Const. aside.] So, she wou'd be left alone with me; that's well.
Lady Brute. Honestly, I find myself a bit lazy, Belinda: besides, I really love this quirky little private spot. But don't let my laid-back attitude hold you back. [Const. aside.] So, she wants to be alone with me; that's good.
Bel. Well, we'll take one Turn, and come to you again. [To Heart.] Come, Sir, shall we go pry into the Secrets of the Garden? Who knows what Discoveries we may make?
Bel. Alright, let's take a turn and come back to you. [To Heart.] Come on, should we go check out the secrets of the garden? Who knows what we might find?
Heart. Madam, I'm at your Service.
Heart. Ma'am, I'm at your service.
Const. [To Heart. aside.] Don't make too much haste back; for, d'ye hear?——I may be busy.
Const. [To Heart. aside.] Don’t rush back too quickly; you know what?——I might be tied up.
Heart. Enough.
Heart. That's enough.
[Exeunt Belinda and Heartfree.
[Belinda and Heartfree exit.]
Lady Brute. Sure you think me scandalously free, Mr. Constant. I'm afraid I shall lose your good Opinion of me.
Lady Brute. I'm sure you think I'm outrageously bold, Mr. Constant. I'm worried I might ruin your good opinion of me.
Const. My good Opinion, Madam, is like your Cruelty——ne'er to be remov'd.
Const. My good opinion, Madam, is like your cruelty—never to be taken away.
Lady Brute. But if I should remove my Cruelty, then there's an end of your good Opinion.
Lady Brute. But if I take away my Cruelty, then that’s the end of your good opinion.
Const. There is not so strict an Alliance between 'em, neither. 'Tis certain I shou'd love you then better (if that be possible) than I do now; and where I love, I always esteem.
Const. There isn't such a strict alliance between them, either. It's certain I would love you even more (if that's possible) than I do now; and where I love, I always respect.
Lady Brute. Indeed, I doubt you much. Why, suppose you had a Wife, and she should entertain a Gallant?
Lady Brute. Honestly, I have serious doubts about you. Just think about it: what if you had a wife, and she started seeing another man?
Const. If I gave her just Cause, how cou'd I justly condemn her?
Const. If I gave her a valid reason, how could I fairly judge her?
Lady Brute. Ah! but you'd differ widely about just Causes.
Lady Brute. Ah! but you'd have completely different opinions about fair reasons.
Const. But Blows can bear no Dispute.
Const. But hits can't be disputed.
Lady Brute. Nor ill Manners much, truly.
Lady Brute. And not really bad manners, to be honest.
Const. Then no Woman upon Earth has so just a Cause as you have.
Const. Then no woman on Earth has as good a reason as you do.
Lady Brute. O, but a faithful Wife is a beautiful Character.
Lady Brute. Oh, but a devoted wife is a wonderful quality.
Const. To a deserving Husband, I confess it is.
Const. To a deserving husband, I admit it is.
Lady Brute. But can his Faults release my Duty?
Lady Brute. But can his flaws excuse me from my responsibilities?
Const. In Equity, without doubt. And where Laws dispense with Equity, Equity should dispense with Laws.
Const. In Equity, no doubt about it. And where laws allow for Equity, Equity should allow for laws.
Lady Brute. Pray let's leave this Dispute; for you Men have as much Witchcraft in your Arguments, as Women have in their Eyes.
Lady Brute. Let's end this argument; you men have as much magic in your words as women have in their eyes.
Const. But whilst you attack me with your Charms, 'tis but reasonable I assault you with mine.
Const. But while you attack me with your charms, it's only fair that I fight back with mine.
Lady Brute. The Case is not the same. What Mischief we do, we can't help, and therefore are to be forgiven.
Lady Brute. The situation is different. Whatever trouble we cause, we can't avoid it, so we should be forgiven.
Const. Beauty soon obtains Pardon for the Pain that[Pg 182] it gives, when it applies the Balm of Compassion to the Wound: But a fine Face, and a hard Heart, is almost as bad as an ugly Face and a soft one; both very troublesome to many a poor Gentleman.
Const. Beauty quickly earns forgiveness for the pain it causes when it brings the healing touch of compassion to the wound. But a pretty face with a cold heart is almost as bad as an unattractive face with a warm one; both can be very troublesome for many a poor gentleman.
Lady Brute. Yes, and to many a poor Gentlewoman, too, I can assure you. But pray, which of 'em is it that most afflicts you?
Lady Brute. Yes, and to many a struggling woman, too, I can assure you. But please, which one is affecting you the most?
Const. Your Glass and Conscience will inform you, Madam. But for Heaven's sake (for now I must be serious), if Pity, or if Gratitude can move you; [Taking her Hand.] if Constancy and Truth have power to tempt you; if Love, if Adoration can affect you; give me at least some Hopes, that Time may do what you perhaps mean never to perform; 'twill ease my Sufferings, tho' not quench my Flame.
Const. Your feelings and your conscience will guide you, Madam. But for Heaven's sake (now I have to be serious), if compassion or gratitude can touch you; [Taking her Hand.] if loyalty and honesty can persuade you; if love, if devotion can influence you; at least give me some hope that time may bring about what you may never plan to do; it will ease my suffering, though it won’t extinguish my desire.
Lady Brute. Your Sufferings eas'd, your Flame wou'd soon abate: And that I would preserve, not quench it, Sir.
Lady Brute. Once your pain is relieved, your passion will soon cool down: And I intend to keep it alive, not put it out, Sir.
Const. Wou'd you preserve it, nourish it with Favours; for that's the Food it naturally requires.
Const. Would you keep it alive, feed it with kindness; because that's the nourishment it naturally needs.
Lady Brute. Yet on that natural Food 'twould surfeit soon, shou'd I resolve to grant all you wou'd ask.
Lady Brute. But with that natural food, I’d quickly be overwhelmed if I decided to give you everything you asked for.
Const. And in refusing all, you starve it. Forgive me, therefore, since my Hunger rages, if I at last grow wild, and in my frenzy force at least this from you. [Kissing her Hand.] Or if you'd have my Flame soar higher still, then grant me this, and this, and Thousands more; [Kissing first her Hand, then her Neck.] [Aside.] For now's the time she melts into Compassion.
Const. And by rejecting everything, you’re making it worse. So forgive me, since my desire is overwhelming, if I eventually lose control and demand at least this from you. [Kissing her hand.] Or if you want to make my passion even stronger, then give me this, and this, and a thousand more; [Kissing first her hand, then her neck.] [Aside.] Because now is the moment she starts to feel pity.
Lady Brute. [Aside.] Poor Coward Virtue, how it shuns the Battle! O Heavens! let me go.
Lady Brute. [Aside.] Poor Coward Virtue, how it avoids the Fight! Oh my God! Let me leave.
Const. Ay, go, ay: Where shall we go, my charming Angel——into this private Arbour——Nay, let's lose no time——Moments are precious.
Const. Yes, let's go: Where should we head, my lovely Angel——into this private spot——No, let's not waste any time——Every moment counts.
Lady Brute. And Lovers wild. Pray let us stop here; at least for this time.
Lady Brute. And wild lovers. Please, let's pause here; at least for now.
Const. 'Tis impossible; he that has power over you, can have none over himself.
Const. It's impossible; the person who has control over you can have no control over themselves.
As he is forcing her into the Arbour, Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle bolt out upon them, and run over the Stage.
As he pushes her into the Arbour, Lady Fanciful and Mademoiselle rush out to confront them and cross the Stage.
Lady Brute. Ah! I'm lost!
Lady Brute. Ah! I'm so lost!
Lady Fan. Fe, fe, fe, fe, fe.
Lady Fan. Fe, fe, fe, fe, fe.
Madam. Fe, fe, fe, fe, fe.
Ma'am. Fe, fe, fe, fe, fe.
Const. Death and Furies, who are these?
Const. Death and Furies, who are they?
Lady Brute. O Heavens! I'm out of my Wits; if they knew me, I am ruin'd.
Lady Brute. Oh my God! I'm losing my mind; if they find out who I am, I'm finished.
Const. Don't be frightened: Ten thousand to one they are Strangers to you.
Const. Don't be scared: There's a one in ten thousand chance they're strangers to you.
Lady Brute. Whatever they are, I won't stay here a Moment longer.
Lady Brute. No matter what they are, I’m not sticking around here for another second.
Const. Whither will you go?
Where will you go?
Lady Brute. Home, as if the Devil were in me. Lord, where's this Belinda now?
Lady Brute. Home, like the Devil is inside me. Man, where's this Belinda now?
Enter Belinda and Heartfree.
Enter Belinda and Heartfree.
O! 'tis well you are come: I'm so frightened, my Hair stands an end. Let's be gone, for Heaven's sake!
O! It's good that you’re here: I'm so scared, my hair is standing on end. Let's get out of here, for heaven's sake!
Bel. Lord, what's the matter?
Hey, Lord, what’s going on?
Lady Brute. The Devil's the Matter; we are discovered. Here's a couple of Women have done the most impertinent thing. Away, away, away, away, away.
Lady Brute. The Devil's the Issue; we’ve been found out. Here are some women who have done the most rude thing. Go, go, go, go, go.
[Exit running.
Running away.
Re-enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Re-enter Lady Fancyfull and Mademoiselle.
Lady Fan. Well, Madamoiselle, 'tis a prodigious thing how Women can suffer filthy Fellows to grow so familiar with 'em.
Lady Fan. Well, Miss, it's amazing how women allow dirty guys to get so close to them.
Madam. Ah Madame, il n'y a rien de si naturel.
Madam. Ah Madam, there's nothing more natural.
Lady Fan. Fe, fe, fe! But, oh my Heart! O Jealousy! O Torture! I'm upon the rack. What shall I do? My Lover's lost, I ne'er shall see him mine. [Pausing.]——But I may be reveng'd; and that's the same thing. Ah sweet Revenge! Thou welcome Thought, thou healing Balsam to my wounded Soul! Be but propitious on this one Occasion, I'll place my Heaven in thee, for all my Life to come.
Lady Fan. Ugh, seriously! But, oh my heart! Oh jealousy! Oh torture! I'm in so much pain. What should I do? My lover's gone; I’ll never have him. [Pausing.]——But I might be able to get revenge; and that’s almost the same. Ah, sweet revenge! You’re such a comforting thought, a healing balm for my hurt soul! Just be favorable this one time, and I’ll put all my hopes in you for the rest of my life.
No sudden change in fortune disturbs her thoughts for long.
Acceptance of her fate keeps her going still;
If Love won't make her happy—Mischief will.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
ACT V.
SCENE, Lady Fancyfull's House.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Mademoiselle.
Lady Fan. Well, Madamoiselle, did you dog the filthy Things?
Lady Fan. Well, Mademoiselle, did you follow those disgusting things?
Madam. O que ouy, Madame.
Madam. What do you say, Madame?
Lady Fan. And where are they?
Lady Fan. And where are they now?
Madam. Au Logis.
Madam. At Home.
Lady Fan. What, Men and all?
Lady Fan. What, men and everything?
Madam. Tous ensemble.
Ma'am. All together.
Lady Fan. O Confidence! What, carry their Fellows to their own House?
Lady Fan. Oh, Confidence! What, take their friends back to their own place?
Madam. C'est que le Mari n'y est pas.
Ma'am. The husband isn't here.
Lady Fan. No; so I believe, truly. But he shall be there, and quickly too, if I can find him out. Well, 'tis a prodigious thing, to see when Men and Women get together, how they fortify one another in their Impudence. But if that drunken Fool, her Husband, he to be found in e'er a Tavern in Town, I'll send him amongst 'em: I'll spoil their sport.
Lady Fan. No; I really believe that. But he will be there, and soon too, if I can track him down. Well, it’s amazing to see how men and women boost each other's boldness when they get together. But if that drunken idiot, her husband, is found in any bar in town, I’ll send him in with them: I’ll ruin their fun.
Madam. En verité, Madame, ce seroit domage.
Madam. Honestly, Madam, that would be a shame.
Lady Fan. 'Tis in vain to oppose it, Madamoiselle; therefore never go about it. For I am the steadiest Creature in the World—when I have determin'd to do Mischief. So, come along.
Lady Fan. It's pointless to resist, Madamoiselle; so don’t even try. I’m the most resolute person in the world when I decide to cause trouble. So, let's go.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
SCENE, Sir John the Brute's House.
Enter Constant, Heartfree, Lady Brute, Belinda, and Lovewell.
Enter Constant, Heartfree, Lady Brute, Belinda, and Lovewell.
Lady Brute. But are you sure you don't mistake, Lovewell?
Lady Brute. But are you sure you're not mistaken, Lovewell?
Lov. Madam, I saw 'em all go into the Tavern together, and my Master was so drunk he cou'd scarce stand.
Lov. Ma'am, I saw them all go into the bar together, and my boss was so drunk he could barely stand.
Lady Brute. Then, Gentlemen, I believe we may venture to let you stay, and play at Cards with us, an Hour or two: For they'll scarce part till Morning.
Lady Brute. Then, gentlemen, I think we can allow you to stay and play cards with us for an hour or two, since they probably won't stop until morning.
Bel. I think 'tis pity they should ever part.
Bel. I think it's a shame they should ever separate.
Const. The Company that's here, Madam.
The company is here, Madam.
Lady Brute. Then, Sir, the Company that's here must remember to part itself in time.
Lady Brute. So, Sir, the Company that's here needs to make sure to split up in time.
Const. Madam, we don't intend to forfeit your future Favours by an indiscreet Usage of this. The Moment you give us the Signal, we shan't fail to make our Retreat.
Const. Madam, we don’t want to lose your future favors by using this indiscreetly. The moment you signal us, we won’t hesitate to retreat.
Lady Brute. Upon those Conditions, then, let us sit down to Cards.
Lady Brute. Given those terms, let's sit down to play cards.
Enter Lovewell.
Enter Lovewell.
Lov. O Lord, Madam, here's my Master just staggering in upon you; he has been quarrelsome yonder, and they have kick'd him out of the Company.
Lov. Oh Lord, Madam, here comes my Master, just stumbling in to see you; he’s been in a fight over there, and they’ve thrown him out of the group.
Lady Brute. Into the Closet, Gentlemen, for Heaven's sake; I'll wheedle him to Bed, if possible.
Lady Brute. Into the closet, gentlemen, for heaven's sake; I'll try to charm him into bed, if I can.
[Const. and Heart. run into the Closet.
Const. and Heart. run into the closet.
Enter Sir John, all dirt and bloody.
Enter Sir John, covered in dirt and blood.
Lady Brute. Ah——Ah——he's all over Blood!
Lady Brute. Ah——Ah——he's covered in blood!
Sir John. What the plague does the Woman—squall for? Did you never see a Man in Pickle before?
Sir John. What the heck is the Woman screaming about? Have you never seen a guy in a jam before?
Lady Brute. Lord, where have you been?
Lady Brute. Lord, where have you been?
Sir John. I have been at——Cuffs.
Sir John. I have been at Cuffs.
Lady Brute. I fear that is not all. I hope you are not wounded.
Lady Brute. I'm afraid that's not everything. I hope you're not hurt.
Sir John. Sound as a Roach, Wife.
Sir John. Totally fine, dear.
Lady Brute. I'm mighty glad to hear it.
Lady Brute. I'm really happy to hear that.
Sir John. You know—I think you lye.
Sir John. You know—I think you're lying.
Lady Brute. You do me wrong to think so. For Heaven's my Witness; I had rather see my own Blood trickle down, than yours.
Lady Brute. You're wrong to think that. I swear to Heaven; I'd rather see my own blood spill than yours.
Sir John. Then will I be crucify'd.
Sir John. Then I will be crucified.
Lady Brute. 'Tis a hard Fate, I shou'd not be believ'd.
Lady Brute. It's a tough situation; I shouldn't be doubted.
Sir John. 'Tis a damn'd Atheistical Age, Wife.
Sir John. It's a damn atheistical age, Wife.
Lady Brute. I am sure I have given you a thousand tender Proofs, how great my Care is of you. But, spite of all your cruel Thoughts, I'll still persist, and at this Moment, if I can, persuade you to lie down and sleep a little.
Lady Brute. I’m sure I’ve shown you countless times how much I care about you. But despite your harsh thoughts, I’ll keep trying, and right now, if I can, I want to convince you to lie down and get some sleep.
Sir John. Why—do you think I am drunk—you Slut, you?
Sir John. What—do you really think I’m drunk—you sl*t?
Lady Brute. Heaven forbid I shou'd! But I'm afraid you are feverish. Pray let me feel your Pulse.
Lady Brute. I hope I won't! But I'm worried you might be running a fever. Please let me check your pulse.
Sir John. Stand off, and be damn'd.
Sir John. Step back, and be cursed.
Lady Brute. Why, I see your Distemper in your very Eyes. You are all on Fire. Pray, go to Bed; let me intreat you.
Lady Brute. I can see your illness in your eyes. You're completely on edge. Please, go to bed; I'm begging you.
Sir John.——Come, kiss me, then.
Sir John.——Come, kiss me now.
Lady Brute. [Kissing him.] There: Now go. [Aside.] He stinks like Poison.
Lady Brute. [Kissing him.] There: Now you can leave. [Aside.] He smells toxic.
Sir John. I see it goes damnably against your Stomach—And therefore—Kiss me again.
Sir John. I see it really bothers you—So, kiss me again.
Lady Brute. Nay, now you fool me.
Lady Brute. No, you’re just fooling me now.
Sir John. Do't, I say.
Sir John. Don't, I say.
Lady Brute. [Aside.] Ah, Lord have mercy upon me! Well—there: now will you go?
Lady Brute. [Aside.] Oh, Lord, have mercy on me! Well—there you go!
Sir John. Now, Wife, you shall see my Gratitude. You gave me two Kisses—I'll give you—two hundred.
Sir John. Now, Wife, you’ll see how grateful I am. You gave me two kisses—I’ll give you two hundred.
[Kisses, and tumbles her.
Kisses and rolls her.
Lady Brute. O Lord! Pray, Sir John, be quiet. Heavens, what a Pickle am I in!
Lady Brute. Oh Lord! Please, Sir John, be quiet. Goodness, what a mess I'm in!
Bel. [Aside.] If I were in her Pickle, I'd call my Gallant out of the Closet, and he shou'd cudgel him soundly.
Bel. [Aside.] If I were in her situation, I'd bring my guy out of the room, and he should beat him up good.
Sir John. So, now you being as dirty and as nasty as[Pg 187] myself, we may go pig together. But first I must have a Cup of your cold Tea, Wife.
Sir John. So, now that you’re as dirty and nasty as [Pg 187] I am, we can wallow in the mud together. But first, I need a cup of your cold tea, wife.
[Going to the Closet.
[Heading to the Closet.]
Lady Brute. O I'm ruin'd! There's none there, my Dear.
Lady Brute. Oh, I'm doomed! There's no one here, my dear.
Sir John. I'll warrant you I'll find some, my Dear.
Sir John. I promise you I'll find some, my dear.
Lady Brute. You can't open the Door, the Lock's spoil'd; I have been turning and turning the Key this half Hour to no purpose. I'll send for the Smith to-morrow.
Lady Brute. You can't open the door; the lock is broken. I've been turning the key for the past half hour without any luck. I'll call a locksmith tomorrow.
Sir John. There's ne'er a Smith in Europe can open a Door with more Expedition than I can do——As for Example—Poh! [He bursts open the Door with his Foot.]——How now! What the Devil have we got here?——Constant——Heartfree——And two Whores again, I'gad——This is the worst cold Tea——that ever I met with in my Life——
Sir John. There's never a Smith in Europe who can open a door as quickly as I can—For example—Poh! [He bursts open the door with his foot.]—What on earth do we have here?—Constant—Heartfree—And two prostitutes again, I swear—This is the worst cold tea—I’ve ever come across in my life—
Enter Constant and Heartfree.
Enter Constant and Heartfree.
Lady Brute. [Aside.] O Lord, what will become of us?
Lady Brute. [Aside.] Oh no, what’s going to happen to us?
Sir John. Gentlemen——I am your very humble Servant—I give you many Thanks——I see you take Care of my Family——I shall do all I can to return the Obligation.
Sir John. Gentlemen—I am your very humble servant—I thank you very much—I see that you’re taking care of my family—I will do everything I can to repay the favor.
Const. Sir, how oddly soever this Business may appear to you, you would have no cause to be uneasy, if you knew the Truth of all things; your Lady is the most virtuous Woman in the World, and nothing has past but an innocent Frolick.
Const. Sir, no matter how strange this situation may seem to you, you wouldn’t have to worry if you knew the whole truth; your wife is the most virtuous woman in the world, and nothing happened except for an innocent bit of fun.
Heart. Nothing else, upon my Honour, Sir.
Heart. Nothing else, I swear to you, Sir.
Sir John. You are both very civil Gentlemen—And my Wife, there, is a very civil Gentlewoman; therefore I don't doubt but many civil things have past between you. Your very humble Servant.
Sir John. You are both very courteous gentlemen—and my wife over there is a very gracious lady; so I have no doubt that you've exchanged many polite things. Your very humble servant.
Lady Brute. [Aside to Const.] Pray be gone: He's so drunk he can't hurt us to-night, and to-morrow Morning you shall hear from us.
Lady Brute. [Aside to Const.] Please leave: He's so drunk he can't harm us tonight, and tomorrow morning you’ll hear from us.
Const. I'll obey you, Madam. Sir, when you are cool, you'll understand Reason better. So then I shall take the pains to inform you. If not——I wear a Sword, Sir, and so good by t'ye. Come along, Heartfree.
Const. I'll listen to you, ma'am. Sir, when you calm down, you'll get Reason more clearly. So let me take the time to explain. If not—I've got a sword, sir, so goodbye to you. Let’s go, Heartfree.
[Exit.
[Leave.
Sir John. Wear a Sword, Sir—And what of all that, Sir? He comes to my House; eats my Meat; lies with my Wife; dishonours my Family; gets a Bastard to inherit my Estate——And when I ask a civil Account of all this—Sir, says he, I wear a Sword—Wear a Sword, Sir? Yes, Sir, says he, I wear a Sword——It may be a good Answer at Cross-purposes; but 'tis a damn'd one to a Man in my whimsical Circumstance——Sir, says he, I wear a Sword! [To Lady Brute.] And what do you wear now? ha! tell me. [Sitting down in a great Chair.] What, you are modest, and can't—Why, then, I'll tell you, you Slut, you. You wear——an impudent, lewd Face——A damn'd designing Heart——And a Tail——and a Tail full of——[He falls fast asleep, snoaring.]
Sir John. Wear a Sword, Sir—And what about all that, Sir? He comes to my house; eats my food; sleeps with my wife; dishonors my family; has a bastard to inherit my estate—And when I ask for a civil explanation of all this—Sir, he says, I wear a sword—Wear a sword, Sir? Yes, Sir, he says, I wear a sword—It might be a good answer for another topic, but it’s a damn terrible one for a guy in my ridiculous situation—Sir, he says, I wear a sword! [To Lady Roughnecks.] And what are you wearing now? Ha! Tell me. [Sitting down in a big chair.] What, you’re modest and can’t—Well, then, I’ll tell you, you slut, you. You wear—an outrageous, lewd face—A damn scheming heart—And a tail—and a tail full of—[He falls fast asleep, snoring.]
Lady Brute. So; thanks to kind Heaven, he's fast for some Hours.
Lady Brute. Well, luckily, he’s tied up for a few hours.
Bel. 'Tis well he is so, that we may have time to lay our Story handsomely; for we must lye like the Devil, to bring ourselves off.
Bel. It's good that he is, so we can take our time to tell our story nicely; because we have to deceive like the Devil to get away with this.
Lady Brute. What shall we say, Belinda?
Lady Brute. What do you think, Belinda?
Bel. [Musing.]——I'll tell you: It must all light upon Heartfree and I. We'll say he has courted me some time, but, for Reasons unknown to us, has ever been very earnest the thing might be kept from Sir John. That therefore hearing him upon the Stairs, he ran into the Closet, tho' against our Will, and Constant with him, to prevent Jealousy. And to give this a good impudent Face of Truth, (that I may deliver you from the trouble you are in) I'll e'en, if he pleases, marry him.
Bel. [Musing.]——Let me tell you: It all comes down to Heartfree and me. We'll say he’s been pursuing me for a while, but for reasons we don't understand, he’s always been very serious about keeping it a secret from Sir John. So, when he heard him on the stairs, he ran into the closet, even though it wasn’t what we wanted, and Constant went with him, to avoid jealousy. And to make this look more candid and genuine, (so I can relieve you from the worry you're in) I’ll go ahead and marry him if he wants.
Lady Brute. I'm beholden to you, Cousin; but that wou'd be carrying the Jest a little too far for your own sake: You know he's a younger Brother, and has nothing.
Lady Brute. I'm grateful to you, Cousin; but that would be taking the joke a bit too far for your own good: You know he's a younger brother and doesn't have anything.
Bel. 'Tis true: But I like him, and have Fortune enough to keep above Extremity: I can't say I would live with him in a Cell, upon Love and Bread and Butter: But I had rather have the Man I love, and a middle State of Life, than that Gentleman in the Chair there, and twice your Ladyship's Splendour.
Bel. It's true: But I like him, and I'm lucky enough to stay above difficulties: I can’t say I’d want to live with him in a small space, just on love and bread and butter: But I’d rather have the man I love and a decent life than that gentleman over there and double your ladyship's luxury.
Lady Brute. In truth, Niece, you are in the right on't;[Pg 189] for I am very uneasy with my Ambition. But, perhaps, had I married as you'll do, I might have been as ill us'd.
Lady Brute. Honestly, Niece, you’re right about that;[Pg 189] I’m quite troubled by my ambitions. But maybe, if I had married like you’re going to, I would have been treated just as badly.
Bel. Some Risk, I do confess, there always is: But if a Man has the least Spark either of Honour or Good-nature, he can never use a Woman ill, that loves him, and makes his Fortune both. Yet I must own to you, some little struggling I still have with this teazing Ambition of ours; for Pride, you know, is as natural to a Woman, as 'tis to a Saint. I can't help being fond of this Rogue; and yet it goes to my Heart, to think I must never whisk to Hyde-Park with above a Pair of Horses; have no Coronet upon my Coach, nor a Page to carry up my Train. But above all—that Business of Place—Well, taking place is a noble Prerogative—
Bel. I admit, there’s always some risk involved: But if a man has even a hint of honor or kindness, he can never treat a woman poorly who loves him and helps him succeed. However, I have to admit that I still struggle a bit with our annoying ambition; after all, pride is just as natural for a woman as it is for a saint. I can’t help but have a soft spot for this scoundrel; and yet, it breaks my heart to think that I can only ride to Hyde-Park with just a pair of horses, that I can’t have a fancy crest on my coach, or a page to lift my train. But more than anything—that whole thing about social status—well, having status is a noble privilege—
Lady Brute. Especially after a Quarrel—
Lady Brute. Especially after a Fight—
Bel. Or of a Rival. But pray say no more on't, for fear I change my Mind; for, o' my Conscience, wer't not for your Affair in the Balance, I should go near to pick up some odious Man of Quality yet, and only take poor Heartfree for a Gallant.
Bel. Or of a Rival. But please don’t say anything more about it, for I might change my mind; honestly, if it weren’t for your situation, I might actually consider finding some unpleasant nobleman and just take poor Heartfree as a casual partner.
Lady Brute. Then him you must have, however things go?
Lady Brute. So you really have to take him, no matter what happens?
Bel. Yes.
Yep.
Lady Brute. Why, we may pretend what we will: but 'tis a hard matter to live without the Man we love.
Lady Brute. Well, we can pretend all we want, but it's really tough to live without the man we love.
Bel. Especially when we are married to the Man we hate. Pray tell me: Do the Men of the Town ever believe us virtuous, when they see us do so?
Bel. Especially when we're married to the man we hate. Tell me: Do the men in town ever think we’re virtuous when they see us act like this?
Lady Brute. O, no: Nor indeed, hardly, let us do what we will. The most of them think, there is no such thing as Virtue, consider'd in the strictest Notions of it; and therefore when you hear 'em say, such a one is a Woman of Reputation, they only mean she's a Woman of Discretion. For they consider we have no more Religion than they have, nor so much Morality; and between you and I, Belinda, I'm afraid the want of Inclination seldom protects any of us.
Lady Brute. Oh, no: And honestly, we can do whatever we want. Most of them think there’s no such thing as Virtue in the strictest sense; so when they say someone is a Woman of Reputation, they really just mean she’s a Woman of Discretion. They believe we have no more Faith than they do, not even as much Morality; and between you and me, Belinda, I’m worried that a lack of Desire rarely keeps any of us safe.
Bel. But what think you of the Fear of being found out?
Bel. But what do you think about the fear of getting caught?
Lady Brute. I think That never kept any Woman vir[Pg 190]tuous long. We are not such Cowards, neither. No: Let us once pass Fifteen, and we have too good an Opinion of our own Cunning, to believe the World can penetrate into what we would keep a Secret. And so, in short, we cannot reasonably blame the Men for judging of us by themselves.
Lady Brute. I think that never kept any woman virtuous for long. We're not that cowardly, either. No: Once we hit fifteen, we think too highly of our own cleverness to believe anyone can figure out what we want to keep secret. So, in short, we can't really blame the men for judging us by their own standards.
Bel. But sure we are not so wicked as they are, after all?
Bel. But we're not as bad as they are, right?
Lady Brute. We are as wicked, Child, but our Vice lies another way: Men have more Courage than we, so they commit more bold, impudent Sins. They quarrel, fight, swear, drink, blaspheme, and the like: Whereas we, being Cowards, only backbite, tell Lyes, cheat at Cards, and so forth. But 'tis late: Let's end our Discourse for to-night, and, out of an excess of Charity, take a small Care of that nasty, drunken Thing there——Do but look at him, Belinda!
Lady Brute. We're just as wicked, Child, but our vices show up differently. Men have more guts than we do, so they engage in more daring and shameless sins. They argue, fight, curse, drink, blaspheme, and so on. Meanwhile, we, being cowards, only gossip, lie, cheat at cards, and things like that. But it's late: let's wrap up our conversation for tonight and, out of an excess of kindness, take care of that disgusting, drunk thing over there—just look at him, Belinda!
Bel. Ah——'tis a savoury Dish.
Bel. Ah—it's a tasty dish.
Lady Brute. As savoury as 'tis, I'm cloy'd with't. Pr'ythee call the Butler to take it away.
Lady Brute. As tasty as it is, I'm tired of it. Please call the Butler to take it away.
Bel. Call the Butler!—--Call the Scavenger! [To a Servant within.] Who's there? Call Rasor! Let him take away his Master, scour him clean with a little Sope and Sand, and so put him to Bed.
Bel. Call the butler! Call the scavenger! [To a servant inside.] Who’s there? Call Rasor! Let him take his master away, scrub him clean with a bit of soap and sand, and then put him to bed.
Lady Brute. Come, Belinda, I'll e'en lie with you to-night; and in the Morning we'll send for our Gentlemen to set this Matter even.
Lady Brute. Come on, Belinda, I’ll stay with you tonight; and in the morning, we’ll call for our guys to settle this.
Bel. With all my Heart.
Bel. With all my heart.
Lady Brute. Good Night, my Dear.
Lady Brute. Goodnight, my love.
[Making a low Curtsy to Sir John.
[Giving a slight bow to Sir John.
[Both.] Ha, ha, ha!
[Both.] Haha!
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
Enter Rasor.
Enter Rasor.
Rasor. My Lady there's a Wag—My Master there's a Cuckold. Marriage is a slippery thing—Women have depraved Appetites.—My Lady's a Wag; I have heard all; I have seen all; I understand all; and I'll tell all; for my little French-woman loves News dearly. This Story'll gain her Heart, or nothing will. [To his Master.] Come, Sir, your Head's too full of Fumes at present, to make room for your Jealousy; but I reckon we shall[Pg 191] have rare work with you, when your Pate's empty. Come to your Kennel, you cuckoldly, drunken Sot, you!
Rasor. My Lady, there’s a jokester—My Master, there’s a cheated husband. Marriage is a tricky business—Women have strange desires. My Lady is quite the jokester; I've heard everything; I've seen everything; I understand everything; and I’ll spill all the details because my little French-woman loves gossip. This story will win her over, or nothing will. [To his Master.] Come on, Sir, your head's too clouded with drink right now to make room for your jealousy; but I bet we'll have a lot of fun with you when you're sober. Get back to your lair, you cuckolded, drunk fool, you!
[Carries him out upon his Back.
[Carries him out on his back.]
SCENE, Lady Fancyfull's House.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Mademoiselle.
Lady Fan. But, why did not you tell me before, Madamoiselle, that Rasor and you were fond?
Lady Fan. But why didn’t you tell me earlier, Mademoiselle, that you and Rasor were close?
Madam. De Modesty hinder me, Matam.
Ma'am. Modesty is holding me back, ma'am.
Lady Fan. Why, truly, Modesty does often hinder us from doing things we have an extravagant mind to. But does he love you well enough yet, to do any thing you bid him? Do you think, to oblige you, he wou'd speak Scandal?
Lady Fan. Well, you know, being modest often stops us from doing things we really want to. But does he care about you enough to do anything you ask? Do you think he would spread gossip just to please you?
Madam. Matam, to oblige your Ladyship, he shall speak Blasphemy.
Madam. Matam, to please your Ladyship, he will speak blasphemy.
Lady Fan. Why, then, Madamoiselle, I'll tell you what you shall do. You shall engage him to tell his Master all that past at Spring Garden: I have a mind he shou'd know what a Wife and a Niece he has got.
Lady Fan. Well, then, Miss, here’s what you should do. Get him to tell his boss everything that happened at Spring Garden: I want him to know what kind of wife and niece he has.
Madam. Il le fera, Madame.
Ma'am. He will do it, Ma'am.
Enter a Footman, who speaks to Madamoiselle apart.
Enter a Footman, who speaks to Miss privately.
Foot. Madamoiselle, yonder's Mr. Rasor desires to speak with you.
Foot. Mademoiselle, over there is Mr. Rasor who wants to talk to you.
Madam. Tell him, I come presently. [Exit Footman.] Rasor be dare, Matam.
Ma'am. Tell him I'll be there soon. [Exit Footman.] Rasor is here, Ma'am.
Lady Fan. That's fortunate. Well, I'll leave you together. And if you find him stubborn, Madamoiselle—hark you—don't refuse him a few little reasonable Liberties to put him into Humour.
Lady Fan. That's lucky. Well, I'll leave you two alone. And if you find him being difficult, Madamoiselle—just listen—don’t deny him a few reasonable liberties to lighten his mood.
Madam. Laissez moy faire.
Ma'am. Let me handle that.
[Exit Lady Fancyfull.
[Exit Lady Fancyfull.]
[Rasor peeps in; and seeing Lady Fancyfull gone, runs to Madamoiselle, takes her about the Neck, and kisses her.
[Razor looks in; and noticing that Lady Fanciful is gone, he rushes to Mademoiselle, hugs her, and kisses her.]
Madam. How now, Confidence?
Ma'am. What's up, Confidence?
Rasor. How now, Modesty!
Rasor. What's up, Modesty!
Madam. Who make you so familiar, Sirrah?
Ma'am. What makes you so familiar, dude?
Rasor. My Impudence, Hussy.
Rasor. My Attitude, Hussy.
Madam. Stand off, Rogue-Face.
Ma'am. Back off, Rogue-Face.
Rasor. Ah——Madamoiselle——great News at our House.
Rasor. Ah—Mademoiselle—great news at our place.
Madam. Why, vat be de matter?
Madam. What’s the matter?
Rasor. The Matter?—Why, Uptails All's the Matter.
Rasor. What's the issue?—Well, Uptails All is the issue.
Madam. Tu te mocque de moy.
Ma'am. You’re mocking me.
Rasor. Now do you long to know the Particulars: The Time when—The Place where—The Manner how. But I don't tell you a Word more.
Rasor. Now do you want to know the details: The time when—The place where—The way how. But I won’t say another word.
Madam. Nay, den dou kill me, Rasor.
Madam. No, then do kill me, Rasor.
Rasor. Come, kiss me, then.
Rasor. Come kiss me now.
[Clapping his Hands behind him.
Clapping his hands behind him.
Madam. Nay, pridee tell me.
Ma'am. No, please tell me.
Rasor. Good by t' ye.
Rasor. Goodbye to you.
[Going.
Going.
Madam. Hold, hold: I will kiss dee.
Madam. Wait, wait: I will kiss you.
[Kissing him.
Kissing him.
Rasor. So, that's civil: Why, now, my pretty Poll, my Goldfinch, my little Waterwagtail——you must know, that——Come, kiss me again.
Rasor. So, that's polite: Why, now, my lovely Poll, my Goldfinch, my little Waterwagtail——you should know that——Come, kiss me again.
Madam. I won't kiss de no more.
Ma'am. I won’t kiss you anymore.
Rasor. Good by t' ye.
Rasor. Goodbye to you.
[Going.
Going.
Madam. Doucement! Derre: es tu content?
Ma'am. Easy! Derre: are you happy?
[Kissing him.
Kissing him.
Rasor. So: Now I'll tell thee all. Why, the News is, That Cuckoldom in Folio is newly printed; and Matrimony in Quarto is just going into the Press. Will you buy any Books, Madamoiselle?
Rasor. So: Now I'll tell you everything. The news is that "Cuckoldom" in folio is freshly printed, and "Matrimony" in quarto is about to go to press. Want to buy any books, Mademoiselle?
Madam. Tu parle comme un Libraire; de Devil no understand dee.
Madam. You speak like a bookseller; the Devil doesn’t understand that.
Rasor. Why, then, that I may make myself intelligible to a Waiting-Woman, I'll speak like a Valet de Chambre. My Lady has cuckolded my Master.
Rasor. Well, in order to make myself clear to a waiting woman, I’ll speak like a personal servant. My lady has cheated on my master.
Madam. Bon.
Ma'am. Good.
Rasor. Which we take very ill from her Hands, I can tell her that. We can't yet prove Matter of Fact upon her.
Rasor. We really dislike what she did, and I can tell her that. We still can't prove anything concrete against her.
Madam. N'importe.
Ma'am. Whatever.
Rasor. But we can prove, that Matter of Fact had like to have been upon her.
Rasor. But we can prove that the facts almost turned against her.
Madam. Ouy da.
Madam. Ouy da.
Rasor. For we have such bloody Circumstances—
Rasor. Because we have such violent circumstances—
Madam. Sans doute.
Ma'am. No doubt.
Rasor. That any Man of Parts may draw tickling Conclusions from 'em.
Rasor. That any capable person can come to amusing conclusions from them.
Madam. Fort bien.
Ma'am. Very good.
Rasor. We found a couple of tight, well-built Gentlemen stufft into her Ladyship's Closet.
Rasor. We found a couple of well-built gentlemen crammed into her Ladyship's closet.
Madam. Le Diable!
Ma'am. The Devil!
Rasor. And I, in my particular Person, have discovered a most damnable Plot, how to persuade my poor Master, that all this Hide and Seek, this Will in the Whisp, has no other meaning than a Christian Marriage for sweet Mrs. Belinda.
Rasor. And I, personally, have uncovered a terrible scheme to convince my poor Master that all this Hide and Seek, this Will in the Whisp, really means nothing more than a Christian marriage for sweet Mrs. Belinda.
Madam. Une Mariage?——Ah les Droles!
Madam. A Wedding?——Oh the Funny Ones!
Rasor. Don't you interrupt me, Hussy; 'tis agreed, I say. And my innocent Lady, to wriggle herself out at the Back-door of the Business, turns Marriage-Bawd to her Niece, and resolves to deliver up her fair Body to be tumbled and mumbled by that young liquorish Whipster, Heartfree. Now are you satisfy'd?
Rasor. Don't interrupt me, Hussy; it's agreed, I say. And my innocent Lady, trying to escape from the situation, turns into a marriage broker for her niece and decides to hand over her beautiful body to be handled by that young, eager guy, Heartfree. Now are you satisfied?
Madam. No.
Madam. No.
Rasor. Right Woman; always gaping for more.
Rasor. Right Woman; always eager for more.
Madam. Dis be all, den, dat dou know?
Madam. Is this all you know, then?
Rasor. All? Aye, and a great deal, too, I think.
Rasor. All? Yeah, and I believe a lot more, too.
Madam. Dou be Fool, dou know noting. Ecoute, mon pauvre Rasor. Dou sees des two Eyes?—Des two Eyes have see de Devil.
Ma'am. You are a fool, you know nothing. Listen, my poor Rasor. Do you see those two eyes?—Those two eyes have seen the Devil.
Rasor. The Woman's mad.
Rasor. The woman is crazy.
Madam. In Spring-Garden, dat Rogue Constant meet dy Lady.
Madam. In Spring-Garden, that Rogue Constant meets the Lady.
Rasor. Bon.
Razor. Good.
Madam.——I'll tell dee no more.
Ma'am.——I won't tell you anymore.
Rasor. Nay, pr'ythee, my Swan.
Rasor. No, please, my Swan.
Madam. Come, kiss me den.
Ma'am. Come, kiss me then.
[Clapping her Hands behind her as he did before.
[Clapping her hands behind her like he did before.]
Rasor. I won't kiss you, not I.
Rasor. I’m not going to kiss you, no way.
Madam. Adieu.
Goodbye, Ma'am.
[Going.
Going.
Rasor. Hold——Now proceed.
Rasor. Hold—Now go ahead.
[Gives her a hearty Kiss.
Gives her a big kiss.
Madam. A ça——I hide myself in one cunning Place, where I hear all, and see all. First, dy drunken Master come mal a propos; but de Sot no know his own dear Wife, so he leave her to her Sport—Den de Game begin. De Lover say soft ting: De Lady look upon de Ground. [As she speaks, Rasor still acts the Man, and she the Woman.] He take her by de Hand: She turn her Head on oder Way. Den he squeeze very hard: Den she pull——very softly. Den he take her in his Arm: Den she give him leetel pat. Den he kiss her Tettons. Den she say—Pish, nay see. Den he tremble: Den she—sigh. Den he pull her into de Arbour: Den she pinch him.
Madam. So——I hide in a clever spot where I can hear and see everything. First, my drunken master comes at an inconvenient time; but the fool doesn’t even recognize his own dear wife, so he leaves her to her fun—Then the game begins. The lover whispers sweet words: The lady looks down. [As she speaks, Razor continues to act like a man, and she like a woman.] He takes her by the hand: She turns her head the other way. Then he squeezes very tightly: Then she pulls—very gently. Then he wraps her in his arms: Then she gives him a little pat. Then he kisses her breasts. Then she says—Pish, no look. Then he shivers: Then she—sighs. Then he pulls her into the arbor: Then she pinches him.
Rasor. Aye, but not so hard, you Baggage, you.
Rasor. Yeah, but not so rough, you troublemaker, you.
Madam. Den he grow bold: She grow weak, he tro her down, il tombe dessu, le Diable assiste, il emport tout. [Rasor struggles with her, as if he would throw her down.] Stand off, Sirrah!
Madam. He became bold: She grew weak, he trampled her down, he falls on top of her, the Devil assists, he takes everything. [Razor struggles with her, as if he would throw her down.] Stay back, you rascal!
Rasor. You have set me a-fire, you Jade, you.
Rasor. You’ve set me on fire, you tease!
Madam. Den go to de River, and quench dy self.
Ma'am. Then go to the river, and satisfy yourself.
Rasor. What an unnatural Harlot 'tis!
Rasor. What an unnatural person!
Madam. Rasor.
Ma'am. Razor.
[Looking languishingly on him.
[Looking at him longingly.
Rasor. Madamoiselle.
Razor. Miss.
Madam. Dou no love me.
Ma'am. You don't love me.
Rasor. Not love thee?—More than a Frenchman does Soup.
Rasor. Not love you?—More than a Frenchman loves soup.
Madam. Den dou will refuse nothing dat I bid dee?
Madam. You won't refuse anything I ask of you, will you?
Rasor. Don't bid me be damn'd, then.
Rasor. Don’t tell me to be cursed, then.
Madam. No, only tell dy Master all I have tell dee of dy Laty.
Ma'am. No, just tell my Master everything I've told you about your Lady.
Rasor. Why, you little, malicious Strumpet, you, shou'd you like to be serv'd so?
Rasor. Why, you little, spiteful brat, would you want to be treated like that?
Madam. Dou dispute den?—Adieu.
Madam. Do you dispute it?—Goodbye.
Rasor. Hold—But why wilt thou make me such a Rogue, my Dear?
Rasor. Hold on—But why do you want to make me such a jerk, my dear?
Madam. Voila un vrai Anglois! Il est amoureux, et cependant il veut raisonner. Va t'en au Diable.
Madam. Here’s a true Englishman! He’s in love, and yet he wants to reason. Go to hell.
Rasor. Hold once more: In hopes thou'lt give me up thy Body, I resign thee my Soul.
Rasor. Wait a moment: I’m hoping you’ll give me your Body, so I’m giving you my Soul in return.
Madam. Bon, ecoute donc;——If dou fail me——[Pg 195]I never see de more——If dou obey me——Je m'abandonne a toy. [She takes him about the Neck, and gives him a smacking Kiss.]
Madam. Well, listen then;——If you fail me——[Pg 195]I will never see you again——If you obey me——I surrender myself to you. [She wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a big kiss.]
[Exit Madamoiselle.
[Exit Mademoiselle.
Rasor. [Licking his Lips.] Not be a Rogue?——Amor vincit Omnia.
Rasor. [Licking his Lips.] Not be a Criminal?——Love conquers all.
[Exit Rasor.
[Exit Rasor.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Mademoiselle.
Lady Fan. Marry, say ye? Will the two Things marry?
Lady Fan. Really, are you saying they will get married? Will those two things get married?
Madam. On le va faire, Madame.
Madam. We're going to do it, Madam.
Lady Fan. Look you, Madamoiselle—In short, I can't bear it——No; I find I can't—If once I see 'em a-bed together, I shall have ten thousand Thoughts in my Head will make me run distracted. Therefore run and call Rasor back immediately; for something must be done to stop this impertinent Wedding. If I can but defer it four-and-twenty Hours, I'll make such Work about Town, with that little pert Slut's Reputation, he shall as soon marry a Witch.
Lady Fan. Listen, Madamoiselle—Honestly, I can't stand it—No, I've realized I can't—If I see them in bed together, I'll be overwhelmed with so many thoughts that it'll drive me crazy. So hurry and call Rasor back right away; something needs to be done to stop this ridiculous wedding. If I can just postpone it for twenty-four hours, I'll create such a scene around town regarding that little stuck-up girl's reputation that he'll have a better chance of marrying a witch.
Madam. [Aside.] La voilà bien intentionnée.
Ma'am. [Aside.] There she is, well-intentioned.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, Always's Lodgings.
Enter Constant and Heartfree.
Enter Constant and Heartfree.
Const. But what dost think will become of this Business?
Const. But what do you think will happen with this business?
Heart. 'Tis easier to think what will not come on't.
Heart. It's easier to think about what won't happen.
Const. What's that?
Const. What's that?
Heart. A Challenge. I know the Knight too well for that; his dear Body will always prevail upon his noble Soul to be quiet.
Heart. A Challenge. I know the Knight too well for that; his beloved Body will always convince his noble Soul to be calm.
Const. But tho' he dare not challenge me, perhaps he may venture to challenge his Wife.
Const. But even though he might not dare to challenge me, he might take the chance to challenge his wife.
Heart. Not if you whisper him in the Ear, you won't have him do't; and there's no other way left, that I see. For as drunk as he was, he'll remember you and I were where we shou'd not be; and I don't think him quite Blockhead enough yet to be persuaded we were got into his Wife's Closet only to peep into her Prayer-Book.
Heart. If you whisper in his ear, he won't do it; and I don't see any other way left. Even though he was really drunk, he'll remember that you and I were in a place we shouldn't have been. I don't think he's such a fool that he'll believe we got into his wife's closet just to sneak a look at her prayer book.
Enter a Servant with a Letter.
Enter a servant with a letter.
Serv. Sir, here's a Letter; a Porter brought it.
Serv. Sir, here's a letter; a delivery person brought it.
Const. O ho, here's Instructions for us.
Const. Oh wow, here are some instructions for us.
Reads:
Reading:
The Accident that has happen'd has touch'd our Invention to the quick. We wou'd fain come off, without your help; but find that's impossible. In a Word, the whole Business must be thrown upon a Matrimonial Intrigue between your Friend and mine. But if the Parties are not fond enough to go quite through with the matter, 'tis sufficient for our Turn, they own the Design. We'll find Pretences enough to break the Match.
The accident that happened has struck at our creativity. We would like to handle this on our own, but we've realized that's impossible. To put it simply, the whole situation depends on a romantic plot involving your friend and mine. But if the parties aren’t passionate enough to see it through, it’s enough for us that they acknowledge the plan. We'll come up with plenty of reasons to call off the engagement.
Adieu.
Goodbye.
----Well, Woman for Invention! How long wou'd my Block-Head have been producing this!—--Hey, Heartfree? What, musing, Man? Pr'ythee be chearful. What say'st thou, Friend, to this matrimonial Remedy?
----Well, Woman for Invention! How long would my Blockhead have been working on this!—--Hey, Heartfree? What, deep in thought, man? Please be cheerful. What do you think, friend, about this marriage solution?
Heart. Why, I say, 'tis worse than the Disease.
Heart. I mean, it's worse than the disease.
Const. Here's a Fellow for you! There's Beauty and Money on her Side, and Love up to the Ears on his: and yet——
Const. Here’s someone for you! She’s got looks and cash on her side, and he’s totally head over heels in love: and yet——
Heart. And yet, I think, I may reasonably be allow'd to boggle at marrying the Niece, in the very Moment that you are debauching the Aunt.
Heart. And still, I think I can fairly hesitate about marrying the niece while you’re taking advantage of the aunt.
Const. Why, truly, there may be something in that. But have not you a good Opinion enough of your own Parts, to believe you cou'd keep a Wife to yourself?
Const. Well, there might be some truth to that. But don't you have enough confidence in your own abilities to think you could keep a wife all to yourself?
Heart. I shou'd have, if I had a good Opinion enough of her's, to believe she cou'd do as much by me. For to do 'em right, after all, the Wife seldom rambles, till the Husband shews her the way.
Heart. I should have, if I thought highly enough of her, to believe she could do as much for me. To be fair, the wife rarely strays until the husband shows her the way.
Const. 'Tis true, a Man of real Worth scarce ever is a Cuckold, but by his own Fault. Women are not naturally lewd; there must be something to urge 'em to it. They'll cuckold a Churl, out of Revenge; a Fool, because they despise him; a Beast, because they loath him. But when they make bold with a Man they once had a well-grounded Value for, 'tis because they first see themselves neglected by him.
Const. It's true, a truly good man is rarely cheated on, and usually only because of his own actions. Women aren’t naturally promiscuous; there has to be something that pushes them to it. They might cheat on a rude man out of spite, on a fool because they look down on him, and on a brute because they can’t stand him. But when they cheat on a man they once respected, it's usually because they feel ignored by him first.
Heart. Nay, were I well assured that I should never grow Sir John, I ne'er shou'd fear Belinda, wou'd play my Lady. But our Weakness, thou knowest, my Friend, consists in that very Change we so impudently throw upon (indeed) a steadier and more generous Sex.
Heart. No, if I were truly sure that I would never become Sir John, I wouldn't worry that Belinda would play my Lady. But our weakness, you know, my Friend, lies in that very change we so boldly attribute to (indeed) a more stable and generous sex.
Const. Why, 'faith, we are a little impudent in that matter, that's the truth on't. But this is wonderful, to see you grown so warm an Advocate for those whom (but t'other Day) you took so much Pains to abuse.
Const. Honestly, we are a bit bold about that, that's the truth. But it's amazing to see you so passionate in support of those whom (just the other day) you went out of your way to criticize.
Heart. All Revolutions run into Extremes; the Bigot makes the boldest Atheist; and the coyest Saint, the most extravagant Strumpet. But, pr'ythee, advise me in this Good and Evil, this Life and Death, this Blessing and Cursing, that's set before me. Shall I marry, or die a Maid?
Heart. All revolutions go to extremes; the strictest believer turns into the most audacious atheist, and the shyest saint becomes the wildest flirt. But please, help me decide in this good and evil, this life and death, this blessing and cursing that's laid out for me. Should I marry, or remain single forever?
Const. Why, 'faith, Heartfree, Matrimony is like an Army going to engage. Love's the forlorn Hope, which is soon cut off; the Marriage-Knot is the main Body, which may stand buff a long, long time; and Repentance is the Rear-Guard, which rarely gives ground as long as the main Body has a Being.
Const. Well, honestly, Heartfree, marriage is like an army getting ready to fight. Love is the first line of defense, which doesn’t last long; the marriage bond is the main force, which can endure for a long time; and regret is the backup, which hardly gives way as long as the main force is still standing.
Heart. Conclusion, then; you advise me to whore on, as you do.
Heart. So, conclusion; you're suggesting I keep selling myself, just like you do.
Const. That's not concluded yet. For tho' Marriage be a Lottery, in which there are a wondrous many Blanks; yet there is one inestimable Lot, in which the only Heaven on Earth is written. Wou'd your kind Fate but guide your Hand to that, tho' I were wrapt in all that Luxury itself could clothe me with, I still shou'd envy you.
Const. That's not decided yet. Even though marriage is like a lottery, filled with many empty chances, there's still one priceless opportunity where the only paradise on Earth is written. If your good fortune could just lead you to that choice, even if I were surrounded by all the luxury in the world, I would still be envious of you.
Heart. And justly, too; for to be capable of loving one, doubtless, is better than to possess a thousand. But how far that Capacity's in me, alas! I know not.
Heart. And rightly so; because being able to love one person is surely better than having a thousand. But how much of that ability I have, unfortunately, I do not know.
Const. But you wou'd know.
But you would know.
Heart. I wou'd so.
Heart. I would too.
Const. Matrimony will inform you. Come, one Flight of Resolution carries you to the Land of Experience; where, in a very moderate time, you'll know the Capacity of your Soul and your Body both, or I'm mistaken.
Const. Marriage will tell you. Come, a leap of determination takes you to the realm of experience; where, in a short amount of time, you'll understand the capabilities of both your mind and body, unless I'm wrong.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, Sir John Tough's House.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda.
Enter Lady Brute and Belinda.
Bel. Well, Madam, what Answer have you from 'em?
Bel. So, ma'am, what did they say?
Lady Brute. That they'll be here this Moment. I fancy 'twill end in a Wedding: I'm sure he's a Fool if it don't. Ten thousand Pounds, and such a Lass as you are, is no contemptible Offer to a younger Brother. But are not you under strange Agitations? Pr'ythee, how does your Pulse beat?
Lady Brute. They’ll be here any minute now. I think this is going to end in a wedding: he’d be a fool if it didn’t. Ten thousand pounds and a girl like you is not a bad deal for a younger brother. But aren’t you feeling a bit anxious? Please, how’s your pulse?
Bel. High and low, I have much ado to be valiant: sure it must feel very strange to go to Bed to a Man?
Bel. Seriously, it's challenging to be brave: it must feel really strange to go to bed with a man?
Lady Brute. Um——it does feel a little odd at first; but it will soon grow easy to you.
Lady Brute. Um— it feels a bit strange at first, but you’ll get used to it quickly.
Enter Constant and Heartfree.
Enter Constant and Heartfree.
Lady Brute. Good-morrow, Gentlemen: How have you slept after your Adventure?
Lady Brute. Good morning, gentlemen: How did you sleep after your adventure?
Heart. Some careful Thoughts, Ladies, on your accounts, have kept us waking.
Heart. Some thoughtful considerations, ladies, about your finances, have kept us awake.
Bel. And some careful Thoughts on your own, I believe, have hindered you from sleeping. Pray how does this matrimonial Project relish with you?
Bel. I believe some careful thoughts of your own have kept you from sleeping. How do you feel about this marriage plan?
Heart. Why, 'faith, e'en as storming Towns does with Soldiers, where the Hope of delicious Plunder banishes the Fear of being knock'd on the Head.
Heart. Well, just like soldiers storming towns, where the promise of looting makes them forget the fear of getting hurt.
Bel. Is it then possible, after all, that you dare think of downright lawful Wedlock?
Bel. Is it really possible, after all, that you actually consider getting married?
Heart. Madam, you have made me so fool-hardy, I dare do any thing.
Heart. Madam, you’ve made me so reckless that I’m willing to do anything.
Bel. Then, Sir, I challenge you; and Matrimony's the Spot where I expect you.
Bel. Then, sir, I challenge you; and marriage is the place where I expect you.
Heart. 'Tis enough; I'll not fail. [Aside.] So, now, I am in for Hobbes's Voyage; a great Leap in the Dark.
Heart. That's enough; I won't let you down. [Aside.] So, here I go on Hobbes's Voyage; a big leap into the unknown.
Lady Brute. Well, Gentlemen, this Matter being concluded then, have you got your Lessons ready? for Sir John is grown such an Atheist of late, he'll believe nothing upon easy Terms.
Lady Brute. Well, gentlemen, now that this matter is settled, do you have your lessons ready? Because Sir John has become such an atheist lately, he won't believe anything without a lot of convincing.
Const. We'll find ways to extend his Faith, Madam. But pray how do you find him this Morning?
Const. We'll find ways to support his Faith, Madam. But how do you feel about him this morning?
Lady Brute. Most lamentably morose, chewing the Cud after last Night's Discovery, of which, however, he had but a confus'd Notion e'en now. But I'm afraid the Valet de Chambre has told him all; for they are very busy together at this Moment. When I told him of Belinda's Marriage, I had no other Answer but a Grunt: From which, you may draw what Conclusions you think fit. But to your Notes, Gentlemen, he's here.
Lady Brute. Most unfortunately gloomy, mulling over last night's discovery, of which he still has only a vague understanding. But I fear the valet has filled him in on everything; they’re very busy together right now. When I informed him of Belinda's marriage, the only response I got was a grunt: From that, you can draw whatever conclusions you like. But to your notes, gentlemen, he’s here.
Enter Sir John and Rasor.
Enter Sir John and Rasor.
Const. Good-morrow, Sir.
Good morning, Sir.
Heart. Good-morrow, Sir John; I'm very sorry my Indiscretion shou'd cause so much Disorder in your Family.
Heart. Good morning, Sir John; I'm really sorry that my mistake has caused so much chaos in your family.
Sir John. Disorders generally come from Indiscretion, Sir; 'tis no strange thing at all.
Sir John. Problems usually arise from a lack of caution, Sir; it's nothing out of the ordinary.
Lady Brute. I hope, my Dear, you are satisfied there was no wrong intended you.
Lady Brute. I hope, my dear, you understand that there was no harm meant to you.
Sir John. None, my Dove.
Sir John. None, my love.
Bel. If not, I hope my Consent to marry Mr. Heartfree will convince you. For as little as I know of Amours, Sir, I can assure you, one Intrigue is enough to bring four People together, without further Mischief.
Bel. If not, I hope my agreement to marry Mr. Heartfree will convince you. From what little I know about love affairs, Sir, I can assure you that one romance is enough to bring four people together, without causing any more trouble.
Sir John. And I know too, that Intrigues tend to Procreation of more kinds than one. One Intrigue will beget another, as soon as beget a Son or a Daughter.
Sir John. And I also know that intrigues often lead to creating more complications than one. One intrigue will lead to another just as easily as it can lead to a son or a daughter.
Const. I am very sorry, Sir, to see you still seem unsatisfy'd with a Lady, whose more than common Virtue, I am sure were she my Wife, shou'd meet a better Usage.
Const. I'm really sorry, Sir, to see that you still seem unhappy with a lady whose exceptional qualities, I’m sure, if she were my wife, would be appreciated better.
Sir John. Sir, if her Conduct has put a Trick upon her Virtue, her Virtue's the Bubble, but her Husband's the Loser.
Sir John. Sir, if her behavior has fooled her virtue, then her virtue is just an illusion, but her husband is the one who loses.
Const. Sir, you have receiv'd a sufficient Answer already, to justify both her Conduct and mine. You'll pardon me for meddling in your Family-affairs; but I perceive I am the Man you are jealous of, and therefore it concerns me.
Const. Sir, you’ve already received enough of an answer to justify both her actions and mine. Please excuse me for getting involved in your family matters, but I can see that I’m the one you’re jealous of, and that makes it relevant to me.
Sir John. Wou'd it did not concern me, and then I shou'd not care who it concern'd.
Sir John. I wish it didn't involve me, because then I wouldn't care who it did involve.
Const. Well, Sir, if Truth and Reason won't content you, I know but one way more, which, if you think fit, you may take.
Const. Well, Sir, if Truth and Reason don’t satisfy you, I only know one more way, which you may choose to take if you think it’s right.
Sir John. Lord, Sir, you are very hasty! If I had been found at Prayers in your Wife's Closet, I should have allow'd you twice as much time to come to yourself in.
Sir John. Man, you are really quick to judge! If I had been caught praying in your wife's closet, I would have given you twice as much time to calm down.
Const. Nay, Sir, if Time be all you want, we have no Quarrel.
Const. No, sir, if all you need is time, we have no issue.
Heart. I told you how the Sword wou'd work upon him.
Heart. I told you how the Sword would affect him.
[Sir John muses.
Sir John thinks.
Const. Let him muse; however, I'll lay fifty Pound our Foreman brings us in, Not Guilty.
Const. Let him think about it; anyway, I'll bet fifty pounds that our Foreman brings us in a Not Guilty verdict.
Sir John. [Aside.] 'Tis well——'tis very well——In spite of that young Jade's matrimonial Intrigue, I am a downright stinking Cuckold——Here they are——Boo——[Putting his hand to his Forehead.] Methinks, I could butt with a Bull. What the Plague did I marry her for? I knew she did not like me; if she had, she wou'd have lain with me; for I wou'd have done so, because I lik'd her; but that's past, and I have her. And now, what shall I do with her?——If I put my Horns into my Pocket, she'll grow insolent——if I don't, that Goat there, that Stallion, is ready to whip me thro' the Guts.—The Debate then is reduced to this: Shall I die a Hero, or live a Rascal?——Why, wiser Men than I have long since concluded, that a living Dog is better than a dead Lion.——[To Const. and Heart.] Gentlemen, now my Wine and my Passion are governable, I must own, I have never observ'd any Thing in my Wife's Course of Life, to back me in my Jealousy of her: But Jealousy's a Mark of Love; so she need not trouble her Head about it, as long as I make no more Words on't.
Sir John. [Aside.] It’s good—really good—in spite of that young woman’s marriage schemes, I’m just a total fool. Here they come—Boo—[Putting his hand to his forehead.] I feel like I could charge at a bull. What on earth did I marry her for? I knew she didn’t like me; if she had, she would have slept with me, because I would have done so, since I liked her. But that's in the past, and I have her now. So, what should I do with her?—If I keep my horns to myself, she’ll get arrogant—if I don’t, that guy over there, that stallion, is ready to gut me. So the question is: Should I die a hero or live a coward? Well, wiser men than I have concluded that a living dog is better than a dead lion. —[To Const. and Heart.] Gentlemen, now that my wine and my emotions are under control, I have to admit, I haven’t noticed anything in my wife’s behavior that supports my jealousy of her. But jealousy is a sign of love, so she doesn’t need to worry about it, as long as I don’t bring it up again.
Lady Fancyfull enters disguis'd, and addresses to Belinda apart.
Lady Fancyfull enters in disguise and speaks to Belinda privately.
Const. I'm glad to see your Reason rule at last. Give me your Hand: I hope you'll look upon me as you are wont.
Const. I'm really happy to see your reason finally in charge. Let me shake your hand: I hope you'll see me the way you usually do.
Sir John. Your humble Servant. [Aside.] A wheedling Son of a Whore!
Sir John. Your humble servant. [Aside.] A smooth-talking son of a bitch!
Heart. And that I may be sure you are Friends with me, too, pray give me your Consent to wed your Niece.
Heart. And to be certain that you are also my friend, please give me your permission to marry your niece.
Sir John. Sir, you have it with all my Heart: Damn me if you han't. [Aside.] 'Tis time to get rid of her: A young, pert Pimp; she'll make an incomparable Bawd in a little time.
Sir John. Sir, you have it with all my heart: Damn me if you haven't. [Aside.] It’s time to get rid of her: A young, cheeky pimp; she'll become an incredible madam in no time.
Enter a Servant, who gives Heartfree a Letter.
Enter a servant, who hands Heart-free a letter.
Bel. Heartfree your Husband, say you? 'Tis impossible.
Bel. Heartfree your husband, you say? That's impossible.
Lady Fan. Wou'd to kind Heaven it were! But 'tis too true; and in the World there lives not such a Wretch. I'm young; and either I have been flatter'd by my Friends, as well as Glass, or Nature has been kind and generous to me. I had a Fortune, too, was greater far than he could ever hope for; but with my Heart I am robb'd of all the rest. I am slighted and I'm beggar'd both at once: I have scarce a bare Subsistence from the Villain, yet dare complain to none; for he has sworn if e'er 'tis known I'm his Wife, he'll murder me.
Lady Fan. I wish it were true! But it is too real; and there is no one like this Wretch in the world. I'm young, and either I've been flattered by my friends and by the mirror, or nature has been kind and generous to me. I had a fortune that was much greater than he could ever dream of; but with my heart, I'm robbed of everything else. I'm both overlooked and left destitute at the same time: I barely get by thanks to the villain, yet I can't complain to anyone; for he has sworn that if it ever gets out that I'm his wife, he will kill me.
[Weeping.
Crying.
Bel. The Traitor!
Bel. The Betrayer!
Lady Fan. I accidentally was told he courted you: Charity soon prevail'd upon me to prevent your Misery: And, as you see, I'm still so generous even to him, as not to suffer he should do a thing for which the Law might take away his Life.
Lady Fan. I just found out that he was pursuing you: Charity quickly convinced me to spare you from misery: And, as you can see, I'm still so kind even to him, that I won't let him do anything that could get him in trouble with the law.
[Weeping.
Crying.
Bel. Poor Creature! how I pity her!
Bel. Poor thing! I really feel for her!
[They continue talking aside.
They keep chatting on the side.
Heart. [Aside.] Death and Damnation!—--Let me read it again. [Reads.] Tho' I have a particular reason not to let you know who I am till I see you; yet you'll easily believe 'tis a faithful Friend that gives you this Advice. I have lain with Belinda (Good!)—I have a Child by her (Better and better!) which is now at Nurse; (Heaven be prais'd) and I think the Foundation laid for another: (Ha!—Old Truepenny!)—No Rack cou'd have tortur'd this Story from me; but Friendship has done it. I heard of your Design to marry her, and cou'd not see you abus'd. Make use of my Advice, but keep my Secret till I ask you for't again. Adieu.
Heart. [Aside.] Damn it!—Let me read this again. [Reads.] Even though I have a specific reason not to reveal my identity until I see you, you'll easily believe it’s a loyal friend giving you this advice. I've been with Belinda (Awesome!)—I have a child with her (Even better!) who is currently being cared for by a nurse; Thank goodness and I think I’m set to have another one: (Ha!—Old Truepenny!)—No torture could have forced me to reveal this story; it’s friendship that has done it. I heard about your plan to marry her, and I couldn’t stand to see you get hurt. Take my advice, but keep my secret until I ask for it again. Goodbye.
[Exit Lady Fancyfull.
[Exit Lady Fancyfull.
Const. [To Bel.] Come, Madam, shall we send for the Parson? I doubt here's no Business for the Lawyer: Younger Brothers have nothing to settle but their Hearts, and that I believe my Friend here has already done very faithfully.
Const. [To Bel.] Come on, madam, should we call the priest? I don’t think there’s any need for a lawyer here: Younger brothers only need to settle their hearts, and I believe my friend here has already done that quite well.
Bel. [Scornfully.] Are you sure, Sir, there are no old Mortgages upon it?
Bel. [Scornfully.] Are you sure, Sir, there aren't any old mortgages on it?
Heart. [Coldly.] If you think there are, Madam, it mayn't be amiss to defer the Marriage till you are sure they are paid off.
Heart. [Coldly.] If you believe there are, Madam, it might be wise to postpone the Marriage until you're certain they are settled.
Bel. [Aside.] How the gall'd Horse kicks!
Bel. [Aside.] Look at that wounded horse kicking!
[To Heart.] We'll defer it as long as you please, Sir.
[To Heart.] We'll wait as long as you need, Sir.
Heart. The more time we take to consider on't, Madam, the less apt we shall be to commit Oversights; therefore, if you please, we will put it off for just nine Months.
Heart. The more time we take to think about it, Madam, the less likely we are to make mistakes; so if it’s alright with you, let’s wait for just nine months.
Bel. Guilty Consciences make Men Cowards; I don't wonder you want time to resolve.
Bel. Guilt makes people cowardly; I understand why you need time to figure things out.
Heart. And they make Women desperate; I don't wonder you are so quickly determin'd.
Heart. And they drive women to desperation; I can see why you’re so quick to make up your mind.
Bel. What does the Fellow mean?
Bel. What does the Fellow mean?
Heart. What does the Lady mean?
Heart. What does the Lady mean?
Sir John. Zoons, what do you both mean?
Sir John. What do you both mean?
[Heart. and Bel. walk chasing about.
Heart and Bel walk around.
Rasor. [Aside.] Here is so much Sport going to be spoil'd, it makes me ready to weep again. A Pox o' this impertinent Lady Fancyfull, and her Plots, and her French-woman too; she's a whimsical, ill-natur'd Bitch, and when I have got my Bones broke in her Service, 'tis ten to one but my Recompence is a Clap; I hear them tittering without still. I'cod, I'll e'en go lug them both in by the Ears, and discover the Plot, to secure my Pardon.
Rasor. [Aside.] There’s so much fun about to be ruined, it makes me want to cry again. Damn that annoying Lady Fancyfull, and her schemes, and her French-woman too; she’s a quirky, mean-spirited woman, and after I’ve gotten my bones broken working for her, I’ll probably end up with an STD; I can still hear them laughing outside. You know what, I’m just going to go drag both of them in by their ears and expose the scheme to save myself.
[Exit Rasor.
[Exit Rasor.
Const. Pr'ythee, explain, Heartfree.
Const. Please explain, Heartfree.
Heart. A fair Deliverance; thank my Stars and my Friend.
Heart. A good outcome; I’m grateful to my luck and my friend.
Bel. 'Tis well it went no farther; a base Fellow!
Bel. It's good it didn't go any further; what a lowly guy!
Lady Brute. What can be the meaning of all this?
Lady Brute. What could all of this mean?
Bel. What's his Meaning, I don't know; but mine is, that if I had married him——I had had no Husband.
Bel. I don't know what he means; but what I mean is, if I had married him—I wouldn't have had a husband.
Heart. And what's her Meaning I don't know; but mine is, that if I had married her—I had had Wife enough.
Heart. And I’m not sure what her meaning is; but for me, if I had married her—I would have had more than enough wife.
Sir John. Your People of Wit have got such cramp ways of expressing themselves, they seldom comprehend one another. Pox take you both, will you speak that you may be understood!
Sir John. You clever people have such awkward ways of expressing yourselves that you hardly understand each other. Damn you both, will you just say it so that you can be understood!
Enter Rasor in Sackcloth, pulling in Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Enter Rasor in sackcloth, dragging Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Rasor. If they won't, here comes an Interpreter.
Rasor. If they won't, here comes a Translator.
Lady Brute. Heavens! what have we here?
Lady Brute. Wow! What do we have here?
Rasor. A Villain——but a repenting Villain. Stuff which Saints in all Ages have been made of.
Rasor. A Villain—but a remorseful Villain. The kind of stuff that Saints have been made of throughout the ages.
All. Rasor!
All. Rasor!
Lady Brute. What means this sudden Metamorphose?
Lady Brute. What does this sudden transformation mean?
Rasor. Nothing, without my Pardon.
Rasor. Nothing without my Pardon.
Lady Brute. What Pardon do you want?
Lady Brute. What kind of forgiveness are you looking for?
Rasor. Imprimis, Your Ladyship's; for a damnable Lie made upon your spotless Virtue, and set to the Tune of Spring-Garden. [To Sir John.] Next, at my generous Master's Feet I bend, for interrupting his more noble Thoughts with Phantoms of disgraceful Cuckoldom. [To Const.] Thirdly, I to this Gentleman apply, for making him the Hero of my Romance. [To Heart.] Fourthly, your Pardon, noble Sir, I ask, for clandestinely marrying you, without either bidding of Banns, Bishop's Licence, Friends Consent——or your own Knowledge. [To Bel.] And, lastly, to my good young Lady's Clemency I come, for pretending the Corn was sow'd in the Ground, before ever the Plough had been in the Field.
Rasor. First, Your Ladyship; for a terrible lie that attacked your pure reputation, set to the tune of Spring-Garden. [To Sir John.] Next, I bow at my generous Master's feet for interrupting his noble thoughts with embarrassing images of being a cuckold. [To Const.] Third, I address this gentleman for making him the hero of my story. [To Heart.] Fourth, I ask for your pardon, noble Sir, for marrying you secretly without any announcements, bishop's license, friends' consent, or your own knowledge. [To Bel.] And finally, I appeal to my good young lady's mercy for pretending the corn was planted in the ground before the plow ever touched the field.
Sir John. [Aside.] So that, after all, 'tis a moot point, whether I am a Cuckold or not.
Sir John. [Aside.] So, in the end, it's still up for debate whether I'm a Cuckold or not.
Bel. Well, Sir, upon Condition you confess all, I'll pardon you myself, and try to obtain as much from the rest of the Company. But I must know, then, who 'tis has put you upon all this Mischief?
Bel. All right, Sir, if you confess everything, I’ll forgive you myself and try to get the others to do the same. But I need to know who has encouraged you to cause all this trouble.
Rasor. Satan, and his Equipage; Woman tempted me, Lust weakened me——and so the Devil over-came me; as fell Adam, so fell I.
Rasor. Satan and his entourage; a woman tempted me, lust weakened me—and so the devil defeated me; just like Adam fell, so did I.
Bel. Then pray, Mr. Adam, will you make us acquainted with your Eve?
Bel. Then please, Mr. Adam, will you introduce us to your Eve?
Rasor. [To Madam.] Unmask, for the Honour of France.
Rasor. [To Ma'am.] Take off your mask, for the honor of France.
All. Madamoiselle!
All. Miss!
Madam. Me ask ten tousand Pardon of all de good Company.
Madam. I ask ten thousand pardons from all the good company.
Sir John. Why, this Mystery thickens, instead of clearing up. [To Rasor.] You Son of a Whore, you, put us out of our Pain.
Sir John. This mystery is getting more complicated instead of clearing up. [To Razor.] You son of a bitch, just relieve us of our suffering.
Rasor. One Moment brings Sunshine. [Shewing Madam.] 'Tis true, this is the Woman that tempted me, but this is the Serpent that tempted the Woman; and if my Prayers might be heard, her Punishment for so doing shou'd be like the Serpent's of old—[Pulls off Lady Fancyfull's Mask.] She should lie upon her Face all the Days of her Life.
Rasor. One Moment brings Sunshine. [Showing Ma'am.] It's true, this is the Woman who tempted me, but this is the Serpent who tempted the Woman; and if my Prayers could be heard, her Punishment for doing so should be like the Serpent of old—[Takes off Lady Fanciful's Mask.] She should lie face down for all her Days.
All. Lady Fancyfull!
All. Lady Fancyfull!
Bel. Impertinent!
Bel. Rude!
Lady Brute. Ridiculous!
Lady Brute. So ridiculous!
All. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
All. Haha!
Bel. I hope your Ladyship will give me leave to wish you Joy, since you have own'd your Marriage yourself—[To Heart.] I vow 'twas strangely wicked in you to think of another Wife, when you had one already so charming as her Ladyship.
Bel. I hope you’ll allow me to congratulate you, now that you’ve acknowledged your marriage yourself—[To Heart.] I must say, it was pretty wicked of you to consider another wife when you already had one as charming as her Ladyship.
All. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
All. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Lady Fan. [Aside.] Confusion seize 'em, as it seizes me!
Lady Fan. [Aside.] Let confusion take hold of them, just like it takes hold of me!
Madam. Que le Diable e toute ce Mauraut de Rasor.
Madam. May the Devil take all this Mauraut of Razor.
Bel. Your Ladyship seems disorder'd: A breeding Qualm, perhaps, Mr. Heartfree: Your Bottle of Hungary Water to your Lady. Why, Madam, he stands as unconcern'd, as if he were your Husband in earnest.
Bel. Your ladyship seems a bit off: Maybe it’s just a queasy feeling, Mr. Heartfree: Here’s your bottle of Hungary water for your lady. Well, ma'am, he looks as relaxed as if he were actually your husband.
Lady Fan. Your Mirth's as nauseous as yourself. Belinda, you think you triumph over a Rival now: Helas! ma pauvre fille. Where'er I'm Rival, there's no Cause for Mirth. No, my poor Wretch, 'tis from another Principle I have acted. I knew that Thing there wou'd make so perverse a Husband, and you so impertinent a Wife, that left your mutual Plagues should make you both run mad, I charitably would have broke the Match. He! he! he! he! he!
Lady Fan. Your laughter is as sickening as you are. Belinda, you think you're winning against a rival now: Oh dear! my poor girl. Wherever I'm a rival, there's no reason for laughter. No, my poor wretch, I'm acting from a different motive. I knew that guy would make such a terrible husband, and you such a rude wife, that unless your mutual troubles drove you both crazy, I would have kindly broken up the engagement. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
[Exit, laughing affectedly, Madamoiselle following her.
[Exit, laughing pretentiously, Madamoiselle following her.
Madam. He! he! he! he! he!
Ma'am. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
All. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
All. Haha!
Sir John. [Aside.] Why, now, this Woman will be married to somebody, too.
Sir John. [Aside.] Well, now, this woman is going to get married to someone, too.
Bel. Poor Creature! what a Passion she's in! But I forgive her.
Bel. Poor thing! She's so worked up! But I forgive her.
Heart. Since you have so much Goodness for her, I hope you'll pardon my Offence, too, Madam.
Heart. Since you care for her so much, I hope you'll forgive my offense as well, Madam.
Bel. There will be no great Difficulty in that, since I am guilty of an equal Fault.
Bel. That shouldn't be too hard since I’m just as guilty of the same mistake.
Heart. Then Pardons being past on all sides, pray let's to Church to conclude the Day's Work.
Heart. Now that all the pardons have been given, let’s head to church to wrap up the day’s work.
Const. But before you go, let me treat you, pray, with a Song a new-married Lady made within this Week; it may be of use to you both.
Const. But before you leave, let me share with you a song that a newly married lady wrote this week; it might be helpful for both of you.
Then took all my charms.
But fond of what he had long desired, Too greedy for his prey, My Shepherd's Flame has gone out. Before Dawn.
Rebuked his quick defeat; Confused, ashamed, and flooded with tears,
I mourned his cold retreat. Finally, Ah Shepherdess! he shouted, Would you rekindle my fire,
Unfortunately, you have to pull back like I do,
I'm lost if you chase.
Heart. So, Madam; now had the Parson but done his Business——
Heart. So, Madam; if the Parson had just done his job——
Bel. You'd be half weary of your Bargain.
Bel. You'd be half tired of your deal.
Heart. No, sure, I might dispense with one Night's Lodging.
Heart. No, I could definitely go without one night’s sleep.
Bel. I'm ready to try, Sir.
Bel. I'm ready to try, Sir.
Heart. Then let's to Church: And if it be our Chance to disagree——
Heart. Then let's go to church: And if we end up disagreeing—
Bel. Take heed—the surly Husband's Fate you see.
Bel. Pay attention—the grumpy husband's fate you see.
[Exeunt omnes.
[Everyone exits.]
EPILOGUE,
By Another Hand.
By Another Person.
Spoken by Lady Brute and Belinda.
Spoken by Lady Brute and Belinda.
Lord! How are we going to explain this to the Town? }
First of all, know this, before our fate is sealed, The Third Day is for us——
His Cause—(I need a Rhyme)
And damn us—
We can be thankful——
Before Preliminaries are set.
If you agree, let's meet and sign the Peace.
Upon the revival of this Play in 1725, Sir John Vanbrugh thought proper to write the two following Scenes, in the room of those printed Page 166,-168, 173, &c. &c.
Upon the revival of this play in 1725, Sir John Vanbrugh decided to write the two following scenes instead of those printed on Page 166, 168, 173, & etc. & etc.
ACT IV.
SCENE, Covent-Garden.
Enter Lord Rake, Sir John, &c. with Swords drawn.
Enter Lord Rake tool, Sir John, etc. with swords drawn.
Lord Rake. Is the Dog dead?
Lord Rake. Is the Dog dead?
Col. Bully. No, damn him, I heard him wheeze.
Col. Bully. No, damn him, I heard him wheezing.
Lord Rake. How the Witch his Wife howl'd?
Lord Rake. How did the Witch his Wife scream?
Col. Bully. Aye, she'll alarm the Watch presently.
Col. Bully. Yeah, she'll alert the Watch soon.
Lord Rake. Appear, Knight, then: Come, you have a good Cause to fight for, there's a Man murder'd.
Lord Rake. Show yourself, Knight, then: Come on, you have a good reason to fight for, there's a man who was murdered.
Sir John. Is there? Then let his Ghost be satisfy'd: for I'll sacrifice a Constable to it presently, and burn his Body upon his wooden Chair.
Sir John. Is he there? Then let his ghost be satisfied: I'll sacrifice a cop to it right now and burn his body on his wooden chair.
Enter a Taylor, with a Bundle under his Arm.
Enter a Taylor, with a bag under his arm.
Col. Bully. How now! what have we got here? A Thief?
Col. Bully. What's going on here? A thief?
Taylor. No an't please you, I'm no Thief.
Taylor. No, if it pleases you, I'm not a thief.
Lord Rake. That we'll see presently: Here! let the General examine him.
Lord Rake. We'll find out soon enough: Here! Let the General take a look at him.
Sir John. Ay, ay, let me examine him; and I'll lay a hundred Pound I find him guilty in spite of his Teeth——for he looks—like a——sneaking Rascal. Come, Sirrah, without Equivocation or mental Reservation,[Pg 209] tell me of what Opinion you are, and what Calling; for by them——I shall guess at your Morals.
Sir John. Yeah, yeah, let me check him out; and I’ll bet a hundred pounds I find him guilty despite his protests—because he looks like a sneaky crook. Come on, you, without any excuses or hidden motives, [Pg 209] tell me what you think and what your job is; because by those, I’ll get a sense of your character.
Taylor. An't please you, I'm a Dissenting Journeyman Woman's Taylor.
Taylor. If it pleases you, I'm a Dissenting Journeyman Woman's Taylor.
Sir John. Then, Sirrah, you love Lying by your Religion, and Theft by your Trade: And so, that your Punishment may be suitable to your Crimes——I'll have you first gagg'd——and then hang'd.
Sir John. Then, listen up, you love to lie because of your religion and steal as part of your job: So, to make sure your punishment fits your crimes——I'll have you first gagged——and then hanged.
Tayl. Pray, good worthy Gentlemen, don't abuse me: Indeed I'm an honest Man, and a good Workman, tho' I say it, that shou'd not say it.
Tayl. Please, kind gentlemen, don’t mistreat me: I’m truly an honest man and a skilled worker, even if I shouldn’t be the one to say it.
Sir John. No Words, Sirrah, but attend your Fate.
Sir John. No words, my friend, just accept your fate.
Lord Rake. Let me see what's in that Bundle.
Lord Rake. Let me see what's in that bundle.
Tayl. An't please you, it's my Lady's short Cloak and Sack.
Tayl. If it pleases you, it’s my lady’s short cloak and sack.
Sir John. What Lady, you Reptile, you?
Sir John. What lady are you, you reptile?
Tayl. My Lady Brute, an't please your Honour.
Tayl. My Lady Brute, if it pleases you, Your Honor.
Sir John. My Lady Brute! my Wife! the Robe of my Wife—with Reverence let me approach it. The dear Angel is always taking Care of me in Danger, and has sent me this Suit of Armour to protect me in this Day of Battle; on they go.
Sir John. My Lady Brute! my Wife! the Robe of my Wife—with respect, let me come closer to it. The dear Angel is always looking out for me in danger and has sent me this suit of armor to keep me safe on this day of battle; here we go.
All. O brave Knight!
All. O brave Knight!
Lord Rake. Live Don Quixote the Second!
Lord Rake. Live Don Quixote II!
Sir John. Sancho, my 'Squire, help me on with my Armour.
Sir John. Sancho, my squire, help me put on my armor.
Tayl. O dear Gentlemen! I shall be quite undone if you take the Sack.
Tayl. Oh dear gentlemen! I will be completely ruined if you take the sack.
Sir John. Retire, Sirrah! and since you carry off your Skin, go home and be happy.
Sir John. Leave now, you! And since you’re taking your skin with you, go home and be happy.
Tayl. I think I'd e'en as good follow the Gentleman's Advice, for if I dispute any longer, who knows but the whim may take 'em to case me—These Courtiers are fuller of Tricks than they are of Money: they'll sooner break a Man's Bones, than pay his Bill.
Tayl. I think I might as well take the Gentleman’s advice, because if I argue any longer, who knows if they might decide to lock me up—These Courtiers have more tricks up their sleeves than they have cash: they’re more likely to break a guy’s bones than pay his bill.
[Exit Tayl.
[Exit Tayl.
Sir John. So! how d'ye like my shapes now?
Sir John. So! How do you like my shapes now?
Lord Rake. To a Miracle! He looks like a Queen of the Amazons—But to your Arms! Gentlemen! The Enemy's upon their March—here's the Watch—
Lord Rake. To a Miracle! He looks like a Queen of the Amazons—But to your Arms! Gentlemen! The Enemy's on the move—here's the Watch—
Sir John. 'Oons! if it were Alexander the Great, at[Pg 210] the Head of his Army, I would drive him into a Horse-Pond.
Sir John. "Oh, come on! If it were Alexander the Great, at[Pg 210] the head of his army, I would throw him into a horse pond."
All. Huzza! O brave Knight!
All. Hooray! Oh brave Knight!
Enter Watchmen.
Welcome to Watchmen.
Sir John. See! Here he comes, with all his Greeks about him—Follow me, Boys.
Sir John. Look! Here he comes, with all his Greeks around him—Follow me, guys.
Watch. Hey-dey! Who have we got here?—Stand.
Watch. Hey there! Who do we have here?—Stand.
Sir John. May-hap not!
Sir John. Maybe not!
Watch. What are you all doing here in the Streets at this time o'night? And who are you, Madam, that seem to be at the Head of this noble Crew?
Watch. What are you all doing here in the streets at this time of night? And who are you, ma'am, who seems to be in charge of this noble group?
Sir John. Sirrah, I am Bonduca, Queen of the Welchmen; and with a Leek as long as my Pedigree, I will destroy your Roman Legion in an Instant—Britons, strike home.
Sir John. Listen up, I am Bonduca, Queen of the Welchmen; and with a leek as long as my family history, I will take down your Roman Legion in no time—Britons, attack!
[They fight off. Watch. return with Sir John.
They fight off. Watch. return with Sir John.
Watch. So! We have got the Queen, however! We'll make her pay well for her Ransom—Come, Madam, will your Majesty please to walk before the Constable?
Watch. So! We've got the Queen, after all! We're going to demand a good ransom for her—Come, Madam, would you please walk in front of the Constable?
Sir John. The Constable's a Rascal! And you are a Son of a Whore!
Sir John. The Constable's a jerk! And you're a son of a bitch!
Watch. A most noble Reply, truly! If this be her royal Style, I'll warrant her Maids of Honour prattle prettily: But we'll teach you some of our Court Dialect before we part with you, Princess—Away with her to the Round-house.
Look. That's a really noble response! If this is her royal way of speaking, I bet her Ladies-in-Waiting chat nicely: But we'll teach you some of our Court Language before we say goodbye, Princess—Take her to the Round-house.
Sir John. Hands off, you Ruffians! My Honour's dearer to me than my Life; I hope you won't be uncivil.
Sir John. Keep your hands to yourselves, you ruffians! My honor means more to me than my life; I hope you won't be rude.
Watch. Away with her.
Watch. Get her out of here.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.
SCENE, A Street.
Enter Constable and Watchmen, with Sir John.
Enter Constable and Watchmen, with Sir John.
Constab. Come, forsooth, come along, if you please! I once in Compassion thought to have seen you safe home this Morning: But you have been so ram[Pg 211]pant and abusive all Night, I shall see what the Justice of Peace will say to you.
Constab. Come on, please! I once had the kindness to think about making sure you got home safe this morning. But you’ve been so wild and disrespectful all night, I’m going to see what the Justice of the Peace thinks about you.
Sir John. And you shall see what I'll say to the Justice of Peace.
Sir John. And you'll see what I tell the Justice of the Peace.
[Watchman knocks at the Door.
Watchman knocks at the door.
Enter Servant.
Enter Servant.
Constab. Is Mr. Justice at home?
Constable. Is Mr. Justice home?
Serv. Yes.
Sure.
Constab. Pray acquaint his Worship we have got an unruly Woman here, and desire to know what he'll please to have done with her.
Constab. Please let his Worship know that we have an unruly woman here, and we’d like to know what he wants to be done with her.
Serv. I'll acquaint my Master.
I'll inform my boss.
[Exit Serv.
[Exit Service]
Sir John. Hark you, Constable, what cuckoldly Justice is this?
Sir John. Listen, Constable, what foolish Justice is this?
Const. One that knows how to deal with such Romps as you are, I'll warrant you.
Const. Someone who knows how to handle troublemakers like you, I bet.
Enter Justice.
Justice has arrived.
Just. Well, Mr. Constable, what is the matter there?
Just. Well, Mr. Constable, what's going on?
Const. An't please your Worship, this here comical sort of a Gentlewoman has committed great Outrages to-night. She has been frolicking with my Lord Rake and his Gang; they attacked the Watch, and I hear there has been a Man kill'd: I believe 'tis they have done it.
Const. If it pleases your Honor, this rather amusing lady has caused quite a ruckus tonight. She was partying with my Lord Rake and his crew; they confronted the Watch, and I’ve heard a man has been killed. I believe they are responsible for it.
Sir John. Sir, there may have been Murder, for aught I know; and 'tis a great Mercy there has not been a Rape too—that Fellow wou'd have ravish'd me.
Sir John. Sir, there may have been murder, for all I know; and it's a great mercy there hasn't been a rape too—that guy would have attacked me.
2d Watch. Ravish! Ravish! O lud! O lud! O lud! Ravish her! Why, please your Worship, I heard Mr. Constable say he believed she was little better than a Maphrodite.
2d Watch. Wow! Wow! Oh man! Oh man! Oh man! Wow her! Well, if it pleases you, I heard Mr. Constable say he thought she was pretty much a hermaphrodite.
Just. Why, truly, she does seem a little masculine about the Mouth.
Just. Honestly, she does look a bit masculine around the mouth.
2d Watch. Yes, and about the Hands too, an't please your Worship; I did but offer in mere civility to help her up the Steps into our Apartment, and with her gripen Fist—ay, just so, Sir.
2d Watch. Yes, and about the hands too, if it pleases you; I was just trying out of politeness to help her up the steps into our apartment, and with her gripping fist—just like that, Sir.
[Sir John knocks him down.
Sir John knocks him down.
Sir John. I fell'd him to the Ground like an Ox.
Sir John. I knocked him down to the ground like he was an ox.
Just. Out upon this boisterous Woman! Out upon her.
Just. Get away from this loud Woman! Get away from her.
Sir John. Mr. Justice, he wou'd have been uncivil! It was in Defence of my Honour, and I demand Satisfaction.
Sir John. Mr. Justice, he would have been rude! It was to defend my honor, and I demand satisfaction.
2d Watch. I hope your Worship will satisfy her Honour in Bridewell; that Fist of hers will make an admirable Hemp-beater.
2d Watch. I hope your Worship will please her Honor in Bridewell; that fist of hers will make an excellent hemp-beater.
Sir John. Sir, I hope you will protect me against that libidinous Rascal; I am a Woman of Quality and Virtue too, for all I am in an Undress this Morning.
Sir John. Sir, I hope you will defend me against that lewd scoundrel; I am a woman of quality and virtue as well, even though I'm dressed down this morning.
Just. Why, she has really the Air of a Sort of a Woman a little something out of the common——Madam, if you expect I shou'd be favourable to you, I desire I may know who you are.
Just. Honestly, she really has the vibe of a woman who’s a bit out of the ordinary—Ma’am, if you want me to be nice to you, I’d like to know who you are.
Sir John. Sir, I am any body, at your Service.
Sir John. Sir, I am anyone, at your service.
Just. Lady, I desire to know your Name?
Just. Lady, could you please tell me your name?
Sir John. Sir, my Name's Mary.
Sir John. Hi, I'm Mary.
Just. Ay, but your Sur-name, Madam?
Just. But what's your last name, ma'am?
Sir John. Sir, my Sur-name's the very same with my Husband's.
Sir John. Sir, my last name is exactly the same as my husband's.
Just. A strange Woman this! Who is your Husband, pray?
Just. What a strange woman! Who is your husband, if I may ask?
Sir John. Sir John.
Sir John.
Just. Sir John who?
Just. Sir John who?
Sir John. Sir John Brute.
Sir John Brute.
Just. Is it possible, Madam, you can be my Lady Brute?
Just. Is it possible, Miss, that you could be my Lady Brute?
Sir John. That happy Woman, Sir, am I; only a little in my Merriment to-night.
Sir John. I’m that happy woman, Sir; just feeling a bit less cheerful tonight.
Just. I am concern'd for Sir John.
Just. I am concerned for Sir John.
Sir John. Truly, so am I.
Sir John. Really, so am I.
Just. I have heard he's an honest Gentleman——
Just. I've heard he's an honest guy—
Sir John. As ever drank.
Sir John. Always drinking.
Just. Good lack! Indeed, Lady, I'm sorry he has such a Wife.
Really. Good grief! Honestly, Lady, I feel bad for him having such a wife.
Sir John. I am sorry he has any Wife at all.
Sir John. I’m sorry he has a wife at all.
Just. And so perhaps may he——I doubt you have not given him a very good Taste of Matrimony.
Just. And maybe he has——I doubt you haven't given him a pretty good taste of marriage.
Sir John. Taste, Sir! Sir, I have scorn'd to stint him to a Taste, I have given him a full Meal of it.
Sir John. Taste, sir! I have refused to limit him to just a taste; I have given him a full serving of it.
Just. Indeed I believe so! But pray, fair Lady, may[Pg 213] he have given you any Occasion for this extraordinary Conduct?—Does he not use you well?
Just. I really think so! But please, dear Lady, may[Pg 213] he have given you any reason for this unusual behavior?—Doesn't he treat you well?
Sir John. A little upon the rough sometimes.
Sir John. A bit rough around the edges sometimes.
Just. Ay, any Man may be out of Humour now and then.
Just. Yeah, any guy can be in a bad mood now and then.
Sir John. Sir, I love Peace and Quiet, and when a Woman don't find that at home, she's apt sometimes to comfort herself with a few innocent Diversions abroad.
Sir John. Sir, I love peace and quiet, and when a woman can’t find that at home, she’s often tempted to seek some innocent distractions elsewhere.
Just. I doubt he uses you but too well. Pray how does he as to that weighty thing, Money? Does he allow you what is proper of that?
Just. I doubt he uses you too well. Tell me, how does he handle that important thing, Money? Does he give you what you deserve?
Sir John. Sir, I have generally enough to pay the reckoning, if this Son of a Whore of a Drawer wou'd but bring his Bill.
Sir John. Sir, I usually have enough to cover the bill, if this jerk of a waiter would just bring the check.
Just. A strange Woman this—Does he spend a reasonable Portion of his time at home, to the Comfort of his Wife and Children?
Just. A strange woman this—Does he spend a decent amount of his time at home, bringing comfort to his wife and kids?
Sir John. He never gave his Wife cause to repine at his being abroad in his Life.
Sir John. He never gave his wife a reason to be unhappy about him being away during his life.
Just. Pray, Madam, how may he be in the grand matrimonial Point——Is he true to your Bed?
Just. Pray, Madam, how is he in the grand marriage aspect——Is he faithful to you?
Sir John. Chaste! Oons! This Fellow asks so many impertinent Questions! I'gad, I believe it is the Justice's Wife in the Justice's Clothes.
Sir John. Chaste! Wow! This guy asks so many annoying questions! Honestly, I think it's the Justice's wife wearing the Justice's clothes.
Just. 'Tis a great pity he should have been thus disposed of—Pray, Madam, (and then I've done) what may be your Ladyship's common Method of Life, if I may presume so far?
Just. It's such a shame he ended up like this—May I ask, Madam, (and then I’ll stop) what is your usual way of life, if I may be so bold?
Sir John. Why, Sir, much that of a Woman of Quality.
Sir John. Well, sir, it's a lot like that of a woman of high status.
Just. Pray how may you generally pass your time, Madam? Your Morning, for example.
Just. How do you usually spend your time, Madam? Your morning, for instance.
Sir John. Sir, like a Woman of Quality——I wake about two o'Clock in the Afternoon——I stretch—and make a sign for my Chocolate——When I have drank three Cups—I slide down again upon my Back, with my Arms over my Head, while my two Maids put on my Stockings——Then hanging upon their Shoulders, I am trail'd to my great Chair, where I sit——and yawn——for my Breakfast——If it don't come presently, I[Pg 214] lie down upon my Couch to say my Prayers, while my Maid reads me the Play-bills.
Sir John. Sir, like a woman of high status—I wake up around two in the afternoon—I stretch—and signal for my chocolate—After I’ve had three cups—I lie back down with my arms over my head, while my two maids help me put on my stockings—Then, hanging on their shoulders, I’m led to my big chair, where I sit—and yawn—for my breakfast—If it doesn’t come soon, I[Pg 214]lie down on my couch to say my prayers, while my maid reads me the playbills.
Just. Very well, Madam.
Sure thing, ma'am.
Sir John. When the Tea is brought in, I drink twelve regular Dishes, with eight Slices of Bread and Butter——And half an Hour after, I send to the Cook to know if the Dinner is almost ready.
Sir John. When the tea is served, I drink twelve cups, along with eight slices of bread and butter. Half an hour later, I ask the cook if dinner is nearly ready.
Just. So! Madam!
Just. So! Ma'am!
Sir John. By that time my Head is half drest, I hear my Husband swearing himself into a State of Perdition, that the Meat's all cold upon the Table; to amend which, I come down in an Hour more, and have it sent back to the Kitchen, to be all drest over again.
Sir John. By that time my hair is half done, I hear my husband cursing himself into a state of despair because the food is all cold on the table; to fix this, I come downstairs an hour later and have it sent back to the kitchen to be redone.
Just. Poor Man!
Just. Poor guy!
Sir John. When I have din'd, and my idle Servants are presumptuously set down at their Ease, to do so too, I call for my Coach, to go visit fifty dear Friends, of whom I hope I shall never find one at home, while I shall live.
Sir John. After I've had my meal, and my lazy servants are confidently lounging around, I ask for my coach so I can go visit fifty dear friends, hoping that I'll never find one of them at home as long as I live.
Just. So! There's the Morning and Afternoon pretty well dispos'd of—Pray, Madam, how do you pass your Evenings?
Exactly. So! The Morning and Afternoon are pretty much taken care of—So, ma'am, how do you spend your Evenings?
Sir John. Like a Woman of Spirit, Sir, a great Spirit. Give me a Box and Dice—Seven's the main, Oons! Sir, I set you a hundred Pound! Why, do you think Women are married now-a-Days, to sit at home and mend Napkins? Sir, we have nobler ways of passing time.
Sir John. Just like a strong woman, sir, a truly great spirit. Give me some dice and a box—seven is the big one, oh my! Sir, I'll wager you a hundred pounds! Do you really think women get married these days just to stay home and mend napkins? Sir, we have much better ways to spend our time.
Just. Mercy upon us, Mr. Constable, what will this Age come to?
Seriously. What is this world coming to, Mr. Constable?
Constab. What will it come to, indeed, if such Women as these are not set in the Stocks?
Constab. What will happen, really, if women like these aren't put in stocks?
Sir John. Sir, I have a little urgent Business calls upon me; and therefore I desire the Favour of you to bring Matters to a Conclusion.
Sir John. Sir, I have some urgent business that requires my attention; therefore, I kindly ask you to help wrap things up.
Just. Madam, if I were sure that Business were not to commit more Disorders, I wou'd release you.
Just. Madam, if I were certain that Business wouldn't cause any more problems, I would let you go.
Sir John. None——by my virtue.
Sir John. None—by my integrity.
Just. Then, Mr. Constable, you may discharge her.
Just. Then, Mr. Constable, you can release her.
Sir John. Sir, your very humble Servant. If you please to accept of a Bottle——
Sir John. Sir, I'm your very humble servant. If you'd like to accept a bottle——
Just. I thank you, kindly, Madam; but I never drink in a Morning. Good by t'ye.
Just. Thank you very much, ma'am; but I never drink in the morning. Goodbye to you.
Sir John. Good-by-t'ye, good Sir.
Sir John. Goodbye, good Sir.
[Exit Justice.
Exit Justice.
So——now, Mr. Constable, shall you and I go pick up a Whore together?
So—now, Mr. Constable, shall we go pick up a prostitute together?
Constab. No, thank you, Madam; my Wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable Man.
Constab. No, thank you, ma'am; my wife is enough to satisfy any reasonable man.
Sir John. [Aside.] He, he, he, he, he——the Fool is married, then. Well, you won't go?
Sir John. [Aside.] Ha, the Fool is married now. So, you're not leaving?
Constab. Not I, truly.
Cop. Not me, honestly.
Sir John. Then I'll go by myself; and you and your Wife may be damn'd.
Sir John. Then I'll go alone; and you and your wife can go to hell.
[Exit Sir John.
[Exit Sir John.
Constable. gazing after her.] Why, God-a-mercy, Lady.
Constable. gazing after her.] Why, thank God, Lady.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
ESOP:
A
COMEDY.
PREFACE.
To speak for a Play, if it cannot speak for itself, is vain; and if it can, it is needless. For one of these Reasons (I cannot yet tell which, for it is now but the second Day of acting) I resolve to say nothing for Esop, though I know he would be glad of Help; for let the best happen that can, his Journey is up Hill, with a dead English Weight at the Tail of him.
To speak for a play, if it can't speak for itself, is pointless; and if it can, it's unnecessary. For one of these reasons (I can't tell which yet, since it's only the second day of performances), I’ve decided to say nothing for Esop, even though I know he would appreciate the support; because no matter how well things go, his journey is uphill, dragging a heavy English weight behind him.
At Paris, indeed, he scrambled up something faster (for it was up Hill there, too) than I am afraid he will do here: The French having more Mercury in their Heads, and less Beef and Pudding in their Bellies. Our Solidity may set hard, what their Folly makes easy; for Fools I own they are, you know we have found them so in the Conduct of the War; I wish we may do so in the Management of the Peace; but that is neither Esop's Business nor mine.
At Paris, he really moved faster up the hill (since it’s uphill there too) than I worry he will here: The French have more energy and less heavy food weighing them down. Our sturdiness might make things tough, while their silliness makes it simple; and I admit they’re foolish, as we’ve seen in how they handled the War. I hope we can see the same with how they manage the Peace; but that’s neither Esop's concern nor mine.
This Play, Gentlemen (or one not much unlike it), was writ in French about six Years since by one Monsieur Boursaut; it was play'd at Paris by the French Comedians, and this was its Fate.
This play, gentlemen (or one very similar), was written in French about six years ago by a certain Monsieur Boursaut; it was performed in Paris by the French comedians, and this is what happened to it.
The first Day it appeared, it was routed (People seldom being fond of what they do not understand, their own sweet Persons excepted). The second (by the help of some bold Knights-Errant) it rallied; the third it advanced; the fourth it gave a[Pg 220] vigorous Attack; and the fifth put all the Feathers in Town to the scamper, pursuing them on to the fourteenth, and then they cried out Quarter.
The first day it showed up, it was completely rejected (people usually don't like what they don’t get, except when it comes to themselves). The second day (with the help of some brave knights) it made a comeback; by the third it was gaining ground; on the fourth it launched a strong attack; and by the fifth, it sent all the feathers in town running away, chasing them until the fourteenth, when they finally called for mercy.
It is not reasonable to expect Esop should gain so great a Victory here, since it is possible, by fooling with his Sword, I may have turned the Edge on't. For I confess in the Translation I have not at all stuck to the Original; nay, I have gone farther: I have wholly added the fifth Act, and crouded a Country Gentleman into the fourth; for which I ask Monsieur Boursaut's Pardon with all my Heart, but doubt I never shall obtain it for bringing him into such Company. Though, after all, had I been so complaisant to have waited on his Play Word for Word, it is possible, even that might not have ensured the Success of it; for though it swam in France, it might have sunk in England. Their Country abounds in Cork, ours in Lead.
It's not reasonable to expect Esop to achieve such a significant victory here, since it's possible that by messing around with his sword, I may have dulled its edge. I admit that in the translation, I haven't stuck closely to the original; in fact, I've gone further: I've completely added the fifth act and crammed a country gentleman into the fourth. For that, I sincerely ask for Monsieur Boursaut's forgiveness, but I doubt I'll ever get it for putting him in such company. Still, even if I had been considerate enough to follow his play word for word, it’s possible that wouldn’t have guaranteed its success either; because while it thrived in France, it might have flopped in England. Their country is full of cork, while ours is full of lead.
PROLOGUE.
With even greater fears than this, we act today;
No hero, no romance, no plot, no show,
No Rape, no Bawdy Humor, no Intrigue, no Romantic Interest:
There's nothing in it that we use to please you; With completely boring instructions, we're here to annoy you; The stage becomes a pulpit, and the world is so changeable, *The Playhouse Suddenly Becomes a Meeting Place.* But preaching here has to be a demanding job;
The Patentees will unfortunately discover this. Even though you are all filled with heavenly zeal,
As you may find in your lives and morals;
Although every woman here is full of grace,
And the purity of Diana is reflected in her face;
Though girls give up the pleasures of sex,
And there isn't a single scandalous wife left in the entire country;
Though men become honest and defy the evil spirit;
Although tradespeople don't cheat anymore, nor do lawyers lie;
Though not a single spot can be found on Levi's Tribe,
Nor any smooth-talking courtier who would accept a bribe;
Yet during these religious days,
Sermons have never been as valuable as plays.
Dramatis Personæ.
| MEN. | |
|---|---|
| Esop, | Mr. Cibber. |
| Learchus, Governor of Sysicus, | Mr. Dogget. |
| Oronces, in love with Euphronia, | Mr. Harland. |
| WOMEN. | |
| Euphronia, Daughter to Learchus, in love with Oronces, | Mrs. Temple. |
| Doris, her Nurse, | Mrs. Verbruggen. |
| People who come to Esop, upon several Occasions, independent one of another. | |
| Two Country Tradesmen, | Mr. Pinkethman and |
| Mr. Smeton. | |
| Roger, a Country Bumpkin, | Mr. Haynes. |
| Quaint, a Herald, | Mr. Pinkethman. |
| Fruitful, an Inn-keeper, | Mr. Smeton. |
| A Country Gentleman, | Mr. Pinkethman. |
| A Priest, Musicians, &c. | |
| Hortensia, an affected learned Lady, | Mrs. Kent. |
| Aminta, a lewd Mother, | Mrs. Willis. |
| Forge-Will, a Scrivener's Widow, | Mrs. Finch. |
| Fruitful, Wife to the Inn-keeper, | Mrs. Powell. |
ESOP.
Employee Stock Ownership Plan.
ACT I. SCENE I.
SCENE, Learchus's House.
SCENE, Learchus's Home.
Enter Learchus, Euphronia, and Doris.
Enter Learchus, Euphronia, and Doris.
Lear. At length I am blest with the sight of the World's Wonder, the Delight of Mankind, the incomparable Esop. You had time to observe him last Night, Daughter, as he sat at Supper with me. Tell me how you like him, Child; is he not a charming Person?
Lear. A t last, I’m lucky enough to see the World's Wonder, the Joy of Humanity, the amazing Esop. You had the chance to watch him last night, Daughter, as he dined with me. Tell me what you think of him, Child; isn’t he a delightful Person?
Euph. Charming!
Charming!
Lear. What say'st thou to him, Doris? Thou art a good Judge, a Wench of a nice Palate.
Lear. What do you think of him, Doris? You’re a good judge, a woman with a great taste.
Dor. You wou'd not have me flatter, Sir?
Dor. You wouldn't want me to flatter you, would you?
Lear. No, speak thy Thoughts boldly.
Lear. No, express your thoughts openly.
Dor. Boldly, you say?
Lear. Boldly, I say.
Lear. I say it boldly.
Dor. Why, then, Sir, my Opinion of the Gentleman is, that he's uglier than an old Beau.
Dor. Well, then, Sir, my opinion of the guy is that he's uglier than an old man trying to look charming.
Lear. How! Impudence.
Lear. Wow! What nerve.
Dor. Nay, if you are angry, Sir, second Thoughts are[Pg 224] best; he's as proper as a Pikeman, holds up his Head like a Dancing-Master, has the Shape of a Barb, the Face of an Angel, the Voice of a Cherubim, the Smell of a Civet-Cat——
Dor. No, if you're upset, Sir, it's better to think twice; he's as handsome as a pikeman, carries himself like a dance instructor, has the build of a stallion, the face of an angel, the voice of a cherub, and the scent of a civet cat——
Lear. In short, thou art Fool enough not to be pleas'd with him.
Lear. In short, you’re foolish enough not to be pleased with him.
Dor. Excuse me for that, Sir; I have Wit enough to make myself merry with him——
Dor. Sorry about that, Sir; I'm clever enough to entertain myself with him—
Lear. If his Body's deform'd, his Soul is beautiful: Would to kind Heaven, as he is, my Daughter cou'd but find the means to please him!
Lear. If his body is deformed, his soul is beautiful. I wish to kind Heaven that, as he is, my daughter could find a way to make him happy!
Euph. To what End, dear Father?
To what end, dear Father?
Lear. That he might be your Husband, dear Daughter.
Lear. That he could be your husband, dear daughter.
Euph. My Husband! Shield me, kind Heaven——
Euph. My husband! Protect me, kind heaven—
Dor. Psha! he has a mind to make us laugh, that's all.
Dor. Psha! He just wants to make us laugh, that's all.
Lear. Esop, then, is not worth her Care, in thy Opinion?
Lear. So, you don't think Esop is worth her attention, do you?
Dor. Why, truly, Sir, I'm always for making suitable Matches, and don't much approve of breeding Monsters. I wou'd have nothing marry a Baboon, but what has been got by a Monkey.
Dor. Honestly, Sir, I'm all for making good matches and I'm not a fan of creating monsters. I wouldn't want anything to marry a baboon unless it came from a monkey.
Lear. How dar'st thou liken so incomparable a Man to so contemptible a Beast?
Lear. How dare you compare such an extraordinary man to such a detestable beast?
Dor.. Ah, the Inconstancy of this World! Out of sight, out f Mind. Your little Monkey is scarce cold in his Grave, and you have already forgot what you us'd so much to admire: Do but call him to remembrance, Sir, in his red Coat, new Gloves, little Hat, and clean Linen; then discharge your Conscience, utter the Truth from your Heart, and tell us whether he was not the prettier Gentleman of the two—By my Virginity, Sir, (tho' that's but a slippery Oath, you'll say) had they made love to me together, Esop should have worn the Willow.
Dor.. Ah, the Unpredictability of this World! Out of sight, out of mind. Your little Monkey is hardly cold in his grave, and you’ve already forgotten what you used to admire so much. Just think back to him in his red coat, new gloves, little hat, and fresh linen; then lay your conscience bare, speak the truth from your heart, and tell us if he wasn’t the more handsome gentleman of the two—By my virginity, Sir, (though that’s a bit of a shaky promise, I know) if they both had tried to woo me, Esop would have been the one wearing the willow.
Lear. Since nothing but an Animal will please thee, 'tis pity my Monkey had not that Virginity thou hast sworn by. But I, whom Wisdom charms even in the homeliest Dress, can never think the much-deserving Esop unworthy of my Daughter.
Lear. Since only an Animal will satisfy you, it's a shame my Monkey didn't have that Virginity you swore by. But I, who find Wisdom appealing even in the simplest attire, can never see the highly deserving Esop as unworthy of my Daughter.
Dor. Now, in the Name of Wonder, what is't you so admire in him?
Dor. Now, what on earth do you admire so much about him?
Outshines everything the world has produced so far.
Croesus, the wealthy favorite of the gods; Croesus, the happiest ruler on Earth; Whose treasure (though vast) is the smallest part
Of what he receives from Providence's Care,
Leans on his shoulder as his great support,
Admires his wisdom, is infatuated with his truth,
And makes him a pilot for imperial control.
But in this high position of authority,
What does he do for work? Where does he focus his thoughts?
To live in splendor, luxury, and comfort,
Engage in endless mischief by ignoring what is good,
And build his family on someone else's ruins? No: He serves the Prince and the People as well;
It benefits the rich and helps the poor; Nothing is neglected except for himself.
With ongoing pain, but also with ongoing joy,
He travels from place to place across the realm,
With helpful lessons designed for every rank:
The People learn obedience from his words,
The Magistrate leads the Command, The Prince is reminded of a father's care,
The subjects covered the responsibilities of a child.
And since it’s risky to be bold with the Truth,
He often calls for Fable to help him,
Where, under miserable names of beasts and birds,
Virtue stands out, while Vice is covered in shame.
And so, through the gentle power of wisdom, He overcomes foolishness wherever he goes:
This is his portrait.
Dor. A very good Picture of a very ill Face!
Dor. A really good picture of a very sick face!
Lear. Well, Daughter; what, not a Word? Is it pos[Pg 226]sible any thing that I am Father of can be untouch'd with so much Merit?
Lear. Well, Daughter; what, not a word? Is it possible that anything I’m a father to can be untouched by so much merit?
Euph. My Duty may make all things possible: But Esop is so ugly, Sir—
Euph. My responsibility can make anything possible: But Esop is just so ugly, Sir—
Lear. His Soul has so much Beauty in't, your Reason ought to blind your Eyes: Besides, my Interest is concern'd; his Power alarms me. I know throughout the Kingdom he's the Scourge of evil Magistrates, turns out Governors when they turn Tyrants; breaks Officers for false Musters; excludes Judges from giving Sentence, when they have been absent during the Trial; hangs Lawyers when they take Fees on both Sides; forbids Physicians to take Money of those they don't cure. 'Tis true, my Innocence ought to banish my Fears: But my Government, Child, is too delicious a Morsel, not to set many a frail Mouth a-watering. Who knows what Accusations Envy may produce? But all wou'd be secure, if thou could'st touch the Heart of Esop. Let me blow up thy Ambition, Girl; the Fire of that will make thy Eyes sparkle at him. [She sighs.]——What's that Sigh for, now? Ha! A young Husband, by my Conscience: Ah Daughter, hadst thou a young Husband, he'd make thee sigh indeed. I'll tell thee what he's compos'd of. He has a Wig full of Pulvilio, a Pocket full of Dice, a Heart full of Treason, a Mouth full of Lyes, a Belly full of Drink, a Carcase full of Plaisters, a Tail full of Pox, and a Head full of——nothing. There's his Picture: wear it at thy Heart, if thou can'st but here comes one of greater Worth.
Lear. His soul has so much beauty in it, your reason should blind your eyes. Besides, my interests are at stake; his power frightens me. I know he’s the scourge of corrupt magistrates across the kingdom, he removes governors when they become tyrants; he dismisses officers for false reports; he prevents judges from giving verdicts when they’ve been absent during the trial; he hangs lawyers who take fees from both sides; and he forbids doctors from charging those they don’t heal. It’s true that my innocence should chase away my fears: but my position, dear child, is too tempting not to make many a greedy person salivate. Who knows what accusations envy might generate? But everything would be safe if you could win the heart of Esop. Let me stoke your ambition, girl; that fire will make your eyes sparkle at him. [She sighs.]——What’s that sigh about now? Ha! A young husband, I swear: Ah daughter, if you had a young husband, he’d really make you sigh. Let me tell you what he’s made of. He has a wig full of powder, a pocket full of dice, a heart full of treachery, a mouth full of lies, a belly full of drink, a body full of bandages, a tail full of disease, and a head full of——nothing. There’s his picture: keep it close to your heart, if you can, but here comes someone of greater worth.
Enter Esop.
Enter Esop.
Lear. Good Morning to my noble Lord; your Excellency——
Lear. Good morning, my noble Lord; your Excellency——
Esop. Softly, good Governor: I'm a poor Wanderer from Place to Place; too weak to train the Weight of Grandeur with me! The Name of Excellency's not for me.
Esop. Please, kind Governor: I'm just a poor wanderer moving from place to place; too weak to carry the burden of greatness with me! The title of Excellence isn’t for me.
Lear. My noble Lord, 'tis due to your Imploy; your Predecessors all——
Lear. My noble Lord, it’s because of your duty; your predecessors all——
Esop. My Predecessors all deserv'd it, Sir; they were[Pg 227] great Men in Wisdom, Birth and Service; whilst I, a poor, unknown, decrepid Wretch, mounted aloft for Fortune's Pastime, expect each Moment to conclude the Farce, by sinking to the Mud from whence I sprung.
Esop. My predecessors all deserved it, Sir; they were[Pg 227] great men in wisdom, heritage, and service; while I, a poor, unknown, frail wretch, rose up for Fortune's entertainment, expecting at any moment for it to end with me sinking back into the mud from which I came.
Lear. Great Crœsus's Gratitude will still support you; his Coffers all are open to your Will, your future Fortune's wholly in your Power.
Lear. Great Crœsus's gratitude will still back you; his coffers are all open to your will, your future fortune is completely in your hands.
Esop. But 'tis a Power that I shall ne'er employ.
Esop. But it's a power that I will never use.
Lear. Why so, my Lord?
Lear. Why's that, my Lord?
Esop. I'll tell you, Sir.
Esop. I’ll tell you, sir.
To cheer better, After a lengthy period of fasting.
He discovered a barn stocked with grain:
Entering required some effort;
But a tasty bait
He put on a stylish face, He takes his position, He never says Grace, But wherever he wants, he goes and eats there. Finally, with tired teeth and jaws, He paused; And still finding some space, He fell down just like he had before,
For future times stored in his collection;
And when his guts couldn't hold anymore, He considered going home. But here he faced the Glutton's Curse;
He noticed that his belly had gotten so big, It was useless to think about a Retreat,
Until he had digested everything he had eaten, And he did just as well.
To the Application, Governor.
To the App, Governor.
Lear. 'Tis easy to be made, my Lord.
Lear. It's easy to be made, my Lord.
Esop. I'm glad on't, Truth can never be too clear.[Pg 228] [Seeing Euph.] Is this young Damsel your fair Daughter, Sir?
Esop. I'm glad to hear that; the truth can never be too clear.[Pg 228] [Seeing Euphoria.] Is this young lady your beautiful daughter, sir?
Lear. 'Tis my Daughter, my good Lord: Fair too, if she appears such in the Eyes of the unerring Esop.
Lear. It’s my daughter, my good Lord: She’s beautiful too, if she looks that way in the eyes of the reliable Esop.
Esop. [Going up to salute her.] I never saw so beautiful a Creature.
Esop. [Going up to greet her.] I've never seen such a beautiful person.
Lear. [Aside.] Now's the time; kiss soft, Girl, and fire him.
Lear. [Aside.] Now's the moment; give her a gentle kiss, and let him go.
Esop. [Gazing at her.] How partial's Nature 'twixt her Form and mine!
Esop. [Looking at her.] How unfair Nature is between her appearance and mine!
Lear. [Aside.] Look, look, look, how he gazes at her!—--Cupid's hard at work, I see that already. Slap; there he hits him—if the Wench would but do her Part. But see, see, how the perverse young Baggage stands biting her Thumbs, and won't give him one kind Glance——Ah the sullen Jade! Had it been a handsome strong Dog, of five-and-twenty, she'd a fall'n a coquetting on't, with every Inch about her. But may be 'tis I that spoils Sport; I'll make a Pretence to leave them together. Will your Lordship please to drink any Coffee this Morning?
Lear. [Aside.] Look, look, look how he stares at her!—-Cupid is definitely on the job, I can see that already. Bam; there he goes—if the girl would just play her part. But look, look how that stubborn girl stands there biting her thumbs and won’t give him even one kind glance—Ah, that sulky thing! If it had been a handsome, strong guy, twenty-five years old, she would have been flirting with him at every opportunity. But maybe I’m the one ruining the fun; I’ll pretend to leave them alone. Would your Lordship like some coffee this morning?
Esop. With all my Heart, Governor.
Esop. With all my heart, Governor.
Lear. Your Lordship will give me leave to go and order it myself; for unless I am by, 'tis never perfect.
Lear. My Lord, please allow me to go and take care of it myself; because if I’m not there, it never turns out right.
Esop. Provided you leave me this fair Maid in Hostage for your Return, I consent.
Esop. As long as you leave this beautiful girl with me as a guarantee for your return, I agree.
Lear. My good Lord does my Daughter too much Honour. Ah that the Wench wou'd but do her Part! [Aside going off.]——Hark, you, Hussy——[Turning back to Euphronia, aside.]——You can give yourself Airs sometimes, you know you can. Do you remember what work you made with yourself at Church t'other Day? Play your Tricks over again, once more, for my Pleasure, and let me have a good Account of this Statesman, or, d'ye hear?——You shall die a Maid; go chew upon that; go.
Lear. My good Lord, does my Daughter honor us too much? Ah, if only the girl would do her part! [Aside going off.]——Hey, you, Hussy——[Turning back to Euphronia, aside.]——You can act all high and mighty sometimes, you know you can. Do you remember the scene you caused at Church the other day? Put on your show again, just for my amusement, and let me hear a good story about this politician, or, do you understand?——You will remain unmarried; think on that; now go.
[Exit Lear.
Exit Lear.
Esop. Here I am left, fair Damsel, too much expos'd to your Charms, not to fall your Victim.
Esop. Here I am, beautiful lady, too exposed to your charms not to become your victim.
Euph. Your Fall will then be due to your own Weak[Pg 229]ness, Sir; for, Heaven's my Witness, I neither endeavour nor wish to wound you.
Euph. Your downfall will then be because of your own weakness, Sir; for, I swear to God, I neither try nor want to hurt you.
Esop. I understand you, Lady; your Heart's already dispos'd of; 'tis seldom otherways, at your Age.
Esop. I get you, Lady; your heart's already taken; it's rarely different at your age.
Euph. My Heart dispos'd of!
My heart's been given away!
Dor. Nay, never mince the Matter, Madam. The Gentleman looks like a civil Gentleman, e'en confess the Truth to him: He has a good Interest with your Father, and no Doubt will employ it to break the Heathenish Match he proposes to you. [To Esop.] Yes, Sir, my young Lady has been in love these two Years, and that with as pretty a Fellow as ever entered a Virgin's Heart; tall, strait, young, vigorous, good Clothes, long Perriwig, clean Linen; in brief, he has every thing that's necessary to set a young Lady a-longing, and to stay it when he has done: but her Father, whose Ambition makes him turn Fool in his old Age, comes with a back Stroke upon us, and spoils all our Sport. Wou'd you believe it, Sir? He has propos'd to her to-day the most confounded ugly Fellow! Look, if the very Thoughts of him don't set the poor Thing a-crying! And you, Sir, have so much Power with the old Gentleman, that one Word from you would set us all right again. If he will have her a Wife, in the Name of Venus, let him provide her a handsome Husband, and not throw her into the Paws of a Thing, that Nature, in a merry Humour, has made half Man, half Monkey.
Dor. No, let’s not beat around the bush, Madam. The gentleman seems like a decent guy, so let’s just tell him the truth: he has a good relationship with your father and will likely use it to break off the terrible match he’s arranged for you. [To Esop.] Yes, Sir, my young lady has been in love for the past two years, and with as charming a fellow as ever captured a girl’s heart; tall, straight, young, strong, well-dressed, with a long wig and clean linen. In short, he has everything needed to make a young lady swoon and keep her enchanted: but her father, whose ambition has made him act foolishly in his old age, comes in with a shocking blow and ruins all our fun. Can you believe it, Sir? He’s suggested today the most horrendously ugly man! Just thinking about him brings tears to the poor girl’s eyes! And you, Sir, have enough influence with the old gentleman that just one word from you could set everything right again. If he wants her to be a wife, for the love of Venus, he should find her a handsome husband instead of handing her over to a creature that nature, in a playful mood, has made half man, half monkey.
Esop. Pray, what's this Monster's Name, Lady?
Esop. Please, what is this Monster's name, Lady?
Euph. No matter for his Name, Sir; my Father will know what you mean, at first Word.
Euph. It doesn't matter what his name is, sir; my father will understand you right away.
Esop. But you shou'd not always chuse by the Outside alone: believe me, fair Damsel, a fine Perriwig keeps many a Fool's Head from the Weather: Have a Care of your young Gallant.
Esop. But you shouldn't always choose based on looks alone: believe me, beautiful lady, a nice wig protects many a fool's head from the elements. Be careful with your young admirer.
Dor. There's no Danger, I have examin'd him; his Inside's as good as his out! I say, he has Wit, and I think I know.
Dor. There's no danger, I’ve checked him out; he’s just as good on the inside as he is on the outside! I say he’s clever, and I think I can tell.
Euph. Nay, she says true; he's even a Miracle of Wit and Beauty: Did you but see him, you'd be yourself my Rival.
Euph. No, she's right; he's really a Miracle of Wit and Beauty: If you saw him, you'd be my competition.
Esop. Then you are resolv'd against the Monster?
Esop. So you’ve decided to stand up to the Monster?
Dor. Fy, Sir, fy; I wonder you'll put her in Mind of that foul, frightful Thing: We shall have her dream of nothing all Night but Bats and Owls, and Toads and Hedge-hogs; and then we shall have such a squeaking and squalling with her, the whole House will be in an Uproar: Therefore, pray, Sir, name him no more, but use your Interest with her Father, that she may never hear of him again.
Dor. Ugh, Sir, ugh; I can’t believe you’d remind her of that awful, scary thing. She’ll be dreaming of nothing but bats, owls, toads, and hedgehogs all night; then we’ll have so much squeaking and squawking from her that the whole house will be in chaos. So please, Sir, don’t mention him again, and use your influence with her father so she never has to hear about him again.
Esop. But if I shou'd be so generous to save you from the old Gallant, what shall I say for your young one?
Esop. But if I were to be so generous as to save you from the old guy, what will I say about your young one?
Euph. O, Sir, you may venture to enlarge upon his Perfections; you need not fear saying too much in his Praise.
Euph. Oh, Sir, you can confidently go on about his qualities; you don't have to worry about saying too much in his praise.
Dor. And pray, Sir, be as copious upon the Defects of t'other; you need not fear out-running the Text there, neither, say the worst you can.
Dor. And please, Sir, be as detailed about the flaws of the other; you don’t need to worry about straying from the text, either, say whatever you want.
Euph. You may say, the first is the most graceful Man that Asia ever brought forth.
Euph. You could say that he is the most graceful man that Asia has ever produced.
Dor. And you may say the latter is the most deform'd Monster that Copulation ever produc'd.
Dor. And you could say that the latter is the most deformed monster that reproduction has ever produced.
Euph. Tell him that Oronces (for that is his dear Name) has all the Virtues that compose a perfect Hero.
Euph. Tell him that Oronces (that's his beloved name) has all the qualities that make up a perfect hero.
Dor. And tell him, that Pigmy has all the Vices that go to equip an Attorney.
Dor. And tell him that Pigmy has all the flaws that make up a lawyer.
Euph. That to one I cou'd be true to the last Moment of my Life.
Euph. That I could be true to one until the very last moment of my life.
Dor. That for t'other, she'd cuckold him the very Day of her Marriage. This, Sir, in few Words, is the Theme you are desir'd to preach upon.
Dor. That for the other, she’d cheat on him the very Day of her Wedding. This, Sir, in short, is the Theme you are asked to preach about.
Esop. I never yet had one that furnish'd me with more Matter.
Esop. I've never had one that provided me with more substance.
Enter Servant.
Enter attendant.
Ser. My Lord, there's a Lady below desires to speak with your Honour.
Ser. My Lord, there's a lady downstairs who wants to speak with you.
Esop. What Lady?
Esop. Which lady?
Ser. 'Tis my Lady—my Lady—[To Doris.] The Lady there, the wise-Lady, the great Scholar, that Nobody can understand.
Ser. It's my Lady—my Lady—[To Doris.] The Lady over there, the wise Lady, the great Scholar, that nobody can understand.
Dor. O ho, is it she? Pray let's withdraw, and oblige her, Madam; she's ready to swoon at the insipid Sight of one of her own Sex.
Dor. Oh, is that her? Come on, let’s step back and give her some space; she looks like she might faint just from seeing another woman.
Euph. You'll excuse us, Sir; we leave you to wiser Company.
Euph. We hope you won't mind, Sir; we'll let you spend time with more insightful people.
[Exeunt Euph. and Dor.
[Exit Euph. and Dor.
Enter Hortensia.
Enter Hortensia.
Hort. The Deess, who from Atropos's Breast preserves the Names of Heroes and their Actions, proclaims your Fame throughout this mighty Orb, and——
Hort. The Goddess, who from Atropos's Breast keeps the Names of Heroes and their Actions, spreads your Fame across this vast World, and——
Esop. [Aside.] Shield me, my Stars! What have you sent me here? For Pity's Sake, good Lady, be more humane: My Capacity is too heavy, to mount to your Style: If you wou'd have me know what you mean, please to come down to my Understanding.
Esop. [Aside.] Protect me, my Stars! What have you brought me here? Please, good Lady, be more compassionate: My ability is too limited to grasp your way of speaking. If you want me to understand what you mean, please lower your language to my level.
For vulgar Flight, I own; But Esop's Sphere has to be included in Call; Esop and I can definitely talk to each other:
I know he's humble, but I also know
His intellect is absolute.
Esop. Now, by my Faith, Lady, I don't know what Intellect is; and methinks, categorical sounds as if you call'd me Names. Pray, speak that you may be understood: Language was design'd for it; indeed it was.
Esop. Honestly, Lady, I have no idea what Intellect is; it seems like categorical sounds like you're insulting me. Please, speak in a way that can be understood: Language was made for that; it really was.
The theme is too grand for a simple style:
Esop is definitely not ordinary.
Esop. No, truly; I am something particular. Yet if I am not mistaken, what I have extraordinary about me, may be describ'd in very homely Language. Here was a young Gentlewoman but just now pencil'd me out to a Hair, I thought; and yet, I vow to God, the learned'st Word I heard her make use of, was Monster.
Esop. No, seriously; I’m something special. But if I’m not mistaken, what’s unique about me can be described in very simple terms. Just now, a young woman perfectly sketched me out to the last detail, I thought; and yet, I swear, the smartest word I heard her use was "monster."
But I go deeper; it's the Mind that I observe. The soul is the important focus of my attention; The Soul, a glimpse of divinity, that glorious[Pg 232] Ray of heavenly light. The soul, that dreadful
Throne of Thought, that sacred seat for reflection.
The Soul, that noble source of wisdom, That Fountain of Comfort,
That Spring of Joy, that joyful sign of eternity Life. The Soul, that——
Esop. Pray, Lady, are you married?
Esop. Please, are you married?
Hort. Why that Question, Sir?
Why that question, sir?
Esop. Only that I might wait upon your Husband, to wish him Joy.
Esop. I just wanted to wait for your husband to congratulate him.
Hort. When People of my Composition would marry, they first find something of their own Species to join with; I never could resolve to take a Thing of common Fabric to my Bed, lest, when his brutish Inclinations prompt him, he shou'd make me Mother to a Form like his own.
Hort. When people like me decide to get married, they first look for someone from their own kind to partner with; I could never bring myself to share my bed with someone ordinary, for fear that when their crude instincts kick in, they might make me the mother of a creature just like them.
Esop. Methinks, a Lady so extremely nice should be much at a Loss who to converse with.
Esop. I think a lady who is so picky must have a hard time deciding who to talk to.
Hort. I keep my Chamber, and converse with myself; 'tis better being alone, than to mis-ally one's Conversation: Men are scandalous, and Women are insipid: Discourse without Figure makes me sick at my Soul: O the Charms of a Metaphor! What Harmony there is in the Words of Erudition! The Musick of them is inimaginable.
Hort. I keep to myself in my room and reflect; it's better to be alone than to have the wrong kind of company. Men are scandalous, and women are dull. Conversations without style make me feel ill. Oh, the beauty of a metaphor! The rhythm in educated words is incredible. The music of them is unimaginable.
Esop. Will you hear a Fable, Lady?
Esop. Would you like to hear a fable, ma'am?
Hort. Willingly, Sir; the Apologue pleases me, when the Application of it is just.
Hort. Sure, Sir; I like the story, especially when it fits well.
Esop. It is, I'll answer for it.
Esop. I can assure you that it is.
[Pg 233] To prone to changes, Unreliable, changeable, unpredictable, (A woman)
Who sang like others of her kind,
Hearing a well-taught Linnet's Tunes,
Had other things on her mind.
To mimic him, she prepares; Her fancy idea was taking flight:
As good as he; I don't know why I shouldn't try He sings well too. From that day on, she changed her tune, She ruined her voice, she strained her throat:
She did, as educated women do, Until everything
That heard her sing I would run away from her—just like I would from you.
[Exit Esop running.
Exit Esop running.
Hortensia sola.
Hortensia alone.
How grossly does this poor World suffer itself to be impos'd upon!—--Esop, a Man of Sense——Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! Alas, poor Wretch! I shou'd not have known him but by his Deformity; his Soul's as nauseous to my Understanding, as his odious Body to my Sense of Feeling. Well,
How badly does this poor world allow itself to be taken advantage of!—--Esop, a man of reason——Ha! ha! ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! I wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for his deformity; his soul is as repulsive to my understanding as his disgusting body is to my sense of touch. Well,
But everything except for myself is my disdain. }
[Exit.
[Exit.]
ACT II.
Enter Euphronia and Doris.
Enter Euphronia and Doris.
Dor. What, in the Name of Jove, 's the matter with you? Speak, for Heaven's sake!
Dor. What the heck is going on with you? Talk, for goodness' sake!
Euph. Oh! what shall I do? Doris, I'm undone.
Euph. Oh! what am I going to do? Doris, I'm in trouble.
Dor. What, ravish'd?
What, stunned?
Euph. No, ten times worse! Ten times worse! Unlace me, or I shall swoon.
Euph. No, it’s ten times worse! Ten times worse! Unlace me, or I’m going to faint.
Dor. Unlace you? Why, you are not thereabouts, I hope?
Dor. Unlace you? Well, I hope you're not around here, right?
Euph. No no, worse still; worse than all that.
Euph. No, no, it's even worse; worse than all of that.
Dor. Nay, then 'tis bad, indeed.
No, that's really bad.
[Doris unlaces her.
Doris unties her.
There: How d'ye do now?
There: How are you now?
Euph. So; 'tis going over.
So, it's going to happen.
Dor. Courage, pluck up your Spirits: Well, now what's the matter?
Dor. Come on, be brave, lift your spirits: So, what's going on now?
Euph. The matter! Thou shalt hear. Know that—that Cheat—Esop——
Euph. The issue! You will hear. Know that—that Fraud—Esop——
Dor. Like enough; speak: What has he done! That ugly ill-boding Cyclops—
Dor. Probably; go ahead: What did he do? That ominous Cyclops—
Euph. Why, instead of keeping his Promise, and speaking for Oronces, he has not said one Word, but what has been for himself. And by my Father's Order, before to-morrow Noon he's to marry me.
Euph. Instead of keeping his promise and speaking up for Oronces, he hasn’t said a single word that doesn’t benefit himself. And by my father’s orders, he’s supposed to marry me by tomorrow noon.
Dor. He marry you!
He'll marry you!
Euph. Am I in the wrong to be in this Despair? Tell me, Doris, if I am to blame.
Euph. Am I wrong to feel this despair? Tell me, Doris, if I should take the blame.
Dor. To blame? No, by my troth. That ugly, old, treacherous piece of Vermin—that melancholy Mixture of Impotence and Desire—does his Mouth stand to a young Partridge? Ah the old Goat! And your Father! He downright doats at last, then.
Dor. To blame? No way. That ugly, old, treacherous pest—that sad mix of inability and desire—does he really think he has a chance with a young partridge? Ah, the old goat! And your father! He's totally smitten now, isn't he?
Euph. Ah, Doris, what a Husband does he give me! And what a Lover does he rob me of! Thou know'st 'em both; think of Oronces, and think of Esop.
Euph. Ah, Doris, what kind of husband does he give me! And what kind of lover does he take away from me! You know them both; think of Oronces, and think of Esop.
Dor. [Spitting.] A foul Monster! And yet, now I think on't, I'm almost as angry at t'other too: Methinks he makes but a slow Voyage on't, for a Man in Love: 'Tis now above two Months since he went to Lesbos, to pack up the old Bones of his dead Father; sure he might have made a little more Haste.
Dor. [Spitting.] What a disgusting monster! And now that I think about it, I'm pretty annoyed with the other one too: It seems like he's taking forever for a guy in love. It's been over two months since he went to Lesbos to collect his dead father's remains; he definitely could have moved a bit faster.
Enter Oronces.
Enter Oronces.
Euph. Oh! my Heart, what do I see?
Euph. Oh! my heart, what am I seeing?
Dor. Talk of the Devil, and he's at your Elbow.
Dor. Speak of the devil, and he’s right beside you.
Oron. My dear Soul!
Oron. My dear Soul!
[Euph. runs and leaps about his Neck.
[Euphemism. runs and jumps around his neck.]
Euph. Why wou'd you stay so long from me?
Euph. Why would you stay away from me for so long?
Oron. 'Twas not my Fault, indeed; the Winds——
Oron. It wasn't my fault, really; the winds——
Dor. The Winds! Will the Winds blow you your[Pg 235] Mistress again? We have had Winds too, and Waves into the Bargain; Storms and Tempests, Sea-Monsters, and the Devil and all. She struggled as long as she cou'd, but a Woman can do no more than she can do; when her Breath was gone, down she sunk.
Dor. The Winds! Will the Winds sweep you back to your[Pg 235] Mistress again? We’ve faced Winds too, along with Waves for good measure; Storms and Tempests, Sea Monsters, and the Devil and all. She fought for as long as she could, but a Woman can only do so much; when she ran out of Breath, down she went.
Oron. What's the meaning of all this?
Oron. What does this all mean?
Dor. There's meaning and mumping too: your Mistress is married: that's all.
Dor. There’s meaning and fuss too: your Mistress is married; that’s all.
Oron. Death and Furies——
Oron. Death and Furies—
Euph. [Clinging about him.] Don't you frighten him too much, neither, Doris. No, my Dear, I'm not yet executed, tho' I'm condemn'd.
Euph. [Clinging to him.] Don't scare him too much, Doris. No, my dear, I haven't been executed yet, even though I'm condemned.
Oron. Condemn'd! To what? Speak! Quick!
Oron. Condemned! To what? Speak! Quick!
Dor. To be married.
Getting married.
Oron. Married? When? How? Where? To what? To whom?
Oron. Married? When? How? Where? To whom?
Dor. Esop, Esop, Esop, Esop, Esop.
Dor. Esop, Esop, Esop, Esop, Esop.
Oron. Fiends and Spectres! What! That piece of Deformity! That Monster! That Crump!
Oron. Demons and Ghosts! What! That hideous thing! That Monster! That Crump!
Dor. The same, Sir, the same. I find he knows him. You might have come home sooner.
Dor. The same, sir, the same. I see he knows him. You could have come home earlier.
Oron. Dear Euphronia, ease me from my Pain. Swear that you neither have nor will consent. I know this comes from your ambitious Father; But you're too generous, too true to leave me: Millions of Kingdoms ne'er wou'd shake my Faith, And I believe your Constancy as firm.
Oron. Dear Euphronia, relieve me from my pain. Promise me that you won’t agree to this. I know this is from your ambitious father; But you are too kind, too genuine to abandon me: Millions of kingdoms could never shake my faith, And I believe your loyalty is just as strong.
Euph. You do me Justice, you shall find you do: For Racks and Tortures, Crowns and Scepters join'd, shall neither fright me from my Truth, nor tempt me to be false. On this you may depend.
Euph. You are doing me justice, and you will see that you are: For torture and suffering, crowns and scepters combined, will neither scare me away from my truth nor entice me to be dishonest. You can count on that.
Dor. Wou'd to the Lord you wou'd find some other Place to make your fine Speeches in! Don't you know that your dear Friend Esop's coming to receive his Visits here? In this great downy Chair, your pretty little Husband Elect is to sit and hear all the Complaints of the Town: One of Wisdom's chief Recompences being to be constantly troubled with the Business of Fools. Pray, Madam, will you take the Gentleman by the Hand, and lead him into your Chamber; and when[Pg 236] you are there, don't lie whining, and crying, and sighing, and wishing——[Aside.] If he had not been more modest than wise, he might have set such a Mark upon the Goods before now, that ne'er a Merchant of 'em all wou'd have bought 'em out of his Hands. But young Fellows are always in the wrong: Either so impudent they are nauseous, or so modest they are useless. Go; pray get you gone together.
Dor. I wish you would find some other place to give your fancy speeches! Don’t you know that your dear friend Esop is coming to receive his visitors here? In this big comfy chair, your cute little fiancé is supposed to sit and listen to all the complaints from the town: one of the main rewards of wisdom is being constantly bothered by the problems of fools. Please, ma’am, will you take the gentleman by the hand and lead him into your room; and when[Pg 236] you’re in there, don’t start whining, crying, sighing, and wishing——[Aside.] If he hadn’t been more modest than wise, he might have already marked his goods in such a way that not a single merchant would have bought them from him. But young guys are always off base: either they’re so overconfident they’re unbearable, or so modest they’re completely useless. Go; please just leave together.
Euph. But if my Father catch us, we are ruin'd.
Euph. But if my dad finds us, we're done for.
Dor. By my Conscience, this Love will make us all turn Fools. Before your Father can open the Door, can't he slip down the Back-stairs? I'm sure he may, if you don't hold him; but that's the old Trade. Ah—Well, get you gone, however——Hark——I hear the old Baboon cough; away! [Ex. Oron. and Euph. running.] Here he comes, with his ugly Beak before him. Ah—a luscious Bedfellow, by my troth!
Dor. Honestly, this love is going to make us all look foolish. Can't your father sneak out the back stairs before opening the door? I'm sure he can if you don't stop him; but that's just how it is. Ah—Well, you should leave now——Wait——I hear the old man coughing; go! [Ex. Oron. and Euphemism. running.] Here he comes, with his ugly face out front. Ah—a delightful bedfellow, for sure!
Enter Learchus and Esop.
Enter Learchus and Esop.
Lear. Well, Doris; what News from my Daughter? Is she prudent?
Lear. Well, Doris; what’s the news from my daughter? Is she sensible?
Dor. Yes, very prudent.
Dor. Yeah, very wise.
Lear. What says she? What does she do?
Lear. What does she say? What does she do?
Dor. Do? What shou'd she do? Tears her Cornet; bites her Thumbs; throws her Fan in the Fire; thinks 'tis dark Night at Noon-day; dreams of Monsters and Hobgoblins; raves in her Sleep of forc'd Marriage and Cuckoldom; cries, Avaunt Deformity; then wakens on a sudden, with fifty Arguments at her Fingers-ends to prove the Lawfulness of Rebellion in a Child, when a Parent turns Tyrant.
Dor. Do? What should she do? She tears her corset; bites her thumbs; throws her fan in the fire; thinks it's dark at noon; dreams of monsters and nightmares; raves in her sleep about forced marriage and betrayal; cries, Away with ugliness; then suddenly wakes up, with a hundred reasons at her fingertips to prove that it's okay for a child to rebel when a parent becomes a tyrant.
Lear. Very fine! But all this shan't serve her turn. I have said the Word, and will be obey'd——My Lord does her Honour.
Lear. Very nice! But none of this will work for her. I've made my point, and I expect it to be followed—My Lord respects her dignity.
Dor. [Aside.] Yes, and that's all he can do to her. [To Lear.] But I can't blame the Gentleman, after all; he loves my Mistress, because she's handsome; and she hates him, because he's ugly. I never saw two People more in the right in my Life. [To Esop.] You'll pardon me, Sir, I'm somewhat free.
Dor. [Aside.] Yes, and that's all he can do to her. [To Lear.] But I can't blame the guy, after all; he loves my lady because she's beautiful, and she can't stand him because he's not. I've never seen two people more justified in my life. [To Esop.] Please forgive me, Sir, I'm being a bit blunt.
Esop. Why, a Ceremony wou'd but take up time. But, Governor, methinks I have an admirable Advocate about your Daughter.
Esop. A ceremony would just waste time. But, Governor, I think I have a great advocate for your daughter.
Lear. Out of the Room, Impudence: be gone, I say.
Lear. Get out of the room, you rude person: leave now, I command you.
Dor. So I will: But you'll be as much in the wrong when I'm gone, as when I'm here. And your Conscience, I hope, will talk as pertly to you as I can do.
Dor. So I will: But you'll be just as wrong when I'm gone as when I'm here. And I hope your conscience will speak to you as boldly as I can.
Esop. If she treats me thus before my face, I may conclude I'm finely handled behind my Back.
Esop. If she treats me like this to my face, I can only assume I'm being poorly treated behind my back.
Dor. I say the Truth here; and I can say no worse any where.
Dor. I'm speaking the truth here, and I can't say anything worse anywhere else.
[Exit Doris.
[Exit Doris.
Lear. I hope your Lordship won't be concern'd at what this prattling Wench bleats out: my Daughter will be govern'd. She's bred up to Obedience. There may be some small Difficulty in weaning her from her young Lover: But 'twon't be the first time she has been wean'd from a Breast, my Lord.
Lear. I hope you won’t mind what this chattering girl is saying: my daughter will follow orders. She’s been raised to be obedient. There might be a bit of trouble getting her away from her young lover, but it won’t be the first time she’s moved on from something she cares about, my Lord.
Esop. Does she love him fondly, Sir?
Esop. Does she love him deeply, Sir?
Lear. Foolishly, my Lord.
Lear. Naively, my Lord.
Esop. And he her?
Esop. And what about her?
Lear. The same.
Same here.
Esop. Is he young?
Esop. Is he a youth?
Lear. Yes, and vigorous.
Yes, and energetic.
Esop. Rich?
Esop. Wealthy?
Lear. So, so.
Lear. So, so.
Esop. Well-born?
Aesop. Well-off?
Lear. He has good Blood in his Veins.
Lear. He has good blood in his veins.
Esop. Has he Wit?
Aesop. Does he have wit?
Lear. He had, before he was in Love.
Lear. He had, before he fell in love.
Esop. And handsome with all this?
Esop. And good-looking with all this?
Lear. Or else we shou'd not have half so much trouble with him.
Lear. Otherwise, we wouldn't have nearly as much trouble with him.
Esop. Why do you, then, make her quit him for me? All the World knows I am neither young, noble, nor rich: And as for my Beauty——Look you, Governor, I'm honest. But when Children cry, they tell 'em Esop's a-coming. Pray, Sir, what is it makes you so earnest to force your Daughter?
Esop. Why are you making her leave him for me? Everyone knows I’m not young, noble, or rich. And regarding my looks—look, Governor, I'm being honest. But when kids cry, they say Esop is coming. Please, Sir, what makes you so determined to push your daughter?
Lear. Am I, then, to count for nothing the favour you are in at Court? Father-in-law to the great Esop! What[Pg 238] may not I aspire to? My foolish Daughter, perhaps, mayn't be so well pleas'd with it, but we wise Parents usually weigh our Children's Happiness in the Scale of our own Inclinations.
Lear. Am I really supposed to ignore the favor you have at Court? Father-in-law to the great Esop! What could I not aspire to? My foolish daughter might not be very happy about it, but we wise parents usually measure our children's happiness against our own desires.
Esop. Well, Governor, let it be your Care, then, to make her consent.
Esop. Well, Governor, it's up to you to make sure she agrees.
Lear. This Moment, my Lord, I reduce her either to Obedience, or to Dust and Ashes.
Lear. This moment, my lord, I will either bring her to obedience or reduce her to dust and ashes.
[Exit Lear.
[Exit Lear.
Esop. Adieu. Now let in the People who come for Audience.
Esop. Goodbye. Now let in the people who are here for the audience.
[Esop sits in his Chair, reading of Papers.
[Employee Stock Ownership Plan sits in his chair, reading papers.
Enter two ordinary Tradesmen.
Enter two regular tradespeople.
1 Tra. There he is, Neighbour: Do but look at him.
1 Tra. There he is, Neighbor: Just take a look at him.
2 Tra. Aye; one may know him: He's well mark'd. But do'st hear me? What Title must we give him? for if we fail in that point, d'ye see me, we shall never get our Business done. Courtiers love Titles almost as well as they do Money, and that's a bold Word now.
2 Tra. Yes; you can recognize him: He's clearly identifiable. But do you hear me? What title should we give him? Because if we mess that up, you see, we’ll never get our business done. Courtiers love titles almost as much as they love money, and that’s a strong statement these days.
1 Tra. Why, I think we had best call him, his Grandeur.
1 Tra. I think we should probably call him, Your Grandeur.
2 Tra. That will do; thou hast hit on't. Hold still, let me speak. May it please your Grandeur——
2 Tra. That’s enough; you’ve got it. Hold on, let me talk. If it pleases Your Highness——
Esop. There I interrupt you, Friend; I have a weak Body that will ne'er be able to bear that Title.
Esop. Hold on, my friend; I have a fragile body that will never be able to handle that title.
2 Tra. D'ye hear that, Neighbour? What shall we call him now?
2 Tra. Did you hear that, Neighbor? What should we call him now?
1 Tra. Why, call him, call him, his Excellency; try what that will do.
1 Tra. Why, call him, call him, Your Excellency; see what that does.
2 Tra. May it please your Excellency——
2 Tra. May it please your Excellence——
Esop. Excellency's a long Word, it takes up too much time in Business: Tell me what you'd have in few Words.
Esop. "Excellency" is a long word; it takes up too much time in business. Just tell me what you want in a few words.
2 Tra.
2 Tra.
Ten thousand pounds to become a lord.
But what should I say to him now?
He completely distracts me from my fun.
1 Tra. Why e'en talk to him as we do to one another.
1 Tra. Why even talk to him like we do to each other?
2 Tra. Shall I? Why, so I will, then. Hem! Neighbour, we want a new Governor, Neighbour.
2 Tra. Should I? Well, I guess I will, then. Ahem! Neighbor, we need a new Governor, Neighbor.
Esop. A new Governor, Friend?
Esop. A new governor, buddy?
2 Tra. Aye, Friend.
Sure, buddy.
Esop. Why, what's the matter with your old one?
Esop. Why, what's wrong with your old one?
2 Tra.
2nd Tra.
Esop. Does he use any of you harshly? Or punish you without a Fault?
Esop. Does he treat any of you unfairly? Or punish you without reason?
2 Tra. No, but he grows as rich as a Miser; his Purse is so cramm'd, 'tis ready to burst again.
2 Tra. No, but he’s getting as rich as a miser; his wallet is so stuffed, it’s about to burst again.
Esop. When 'tis full, 'twill hold no more; a new Governor will have an empty one.
Esop. When it’s full, it can't hold anything else; a new Governor will have an empty one.
2 Tra. 'Fore Gad, Neighbour, the little Gentleman's in the right on't.
2 Tra. Honestly, Neighbor, the little guy's got it right.
1 Tra.
1 Tra.
It cost me more money to feed my pig,
Better to keep him fit when he was like that.
Please tell him we'll stick with our old Governor.
2 Tra. I'll do't. Why, look you, Sir, d'ye see me: Having seriously consider'd of the matter, my Neighbour Hobson and I here, we are content to jog on a little longer with him we have: but if you'd do us another Courtesy, you might.
2 Tra. I'll do it. Look, Sir, do you see me: After seriously thinking about it, my neighbor Hobson and I agree to keep going a bit longer with who we have: but if you could do us another favor, that would be great.
Esop. What's that, Friend?
Esop. What's that, buddy?
2 Tra. Why, that's this: Our King Crœsus is a very good Prince, as a Man may say: But——a——but—Taxes are high, an't please you; and——a——poor Men want Money, d'ye see me: 'Tis very hard, as we think, that the Poor shou'd work to maintain the Rich. If there were no Taxes, we shou'd do pretty well.
2 Tra. Well, here's the deal: Our King Crœsus is a pretty good ruler, as far as that goes. But, you see, taxes are really high, and poor people need money, you know? It's pretty tough, we think, that the poor have to work to support the rich. If there weren't any taxes, we'd be doing just fine.
1 Tra. Taxes, indeed, are very burdensome.
1 Tra. Taxes are definitely a heavy burden.
Esop. I'll tell you a Story, Countrymen.
Esop. I'll share a story with you, folks.
[Pg 240] As Mutineers, became very powerful; They met, conspired, and discussed treason, They claimed by Jove that they had no understanding of the Reason
The belly should have all the food— }
It was a really infamous cheat }
They did the work, and—Death and Hell, they would consume. The Belly, who loved good food,
I felt like I could have died from fear. He said, "Good people, you have no idea." What you are about to do; }
*If I’m starving, what will happen to you?* "We don't know or care," they cried. But this we have to say, We'll see you damned Before we work, And you get paid. With that, the Hands to Pocket left. Full wristband deep, The legs and feet fell asleep quickly: They had redeemed their freedom, And everyone, except for the Belly, seemed Very satisfied. But pay attention to what happened next; it wasn't long Before what was right became wrong;
The Mutineers had become very weak, They realized it was more than time to speak up:
They call for work, but it was too late. The Stomach (like an old Maid, }
And with its Destiny tied to their Fate.
Esop. What think you of this Story, Friends, ha? Come, you look like wise Men; I'm sure you understand what's for your good; in giving part of what you have, you secure all the rest: If the King had no Money, there cou'd be no Army; and if there were no Army, your Enemies would be amongst you: One Day's Pillage wou'd be worse than twenty Years' Taxes. What say ye? Is't not so?
Esop. What do you think of this story, friends? Come on, you look like smart people; I’m sure you know what’s good for you. By sharing a part of what you have, you protect everything else. If the King has no money, there can be no army; and without an army, your enemies would be right outside your door. One day of looting would be worse than twenty years of taxes. What do you say? Isn't that true?
2 Tra. By my troth, I think he's in the right on't, again. Who'd think that little Hump-back of his Shou'd have so much Brains in't, Neighbour?
2 Tra. Honestly, I think he's right about it again. Who would have thought that little Hump-back of his would have so much brainpower, neighbor?
Esop. Well, honest Men, is there any thing else that I can serve you in?
Esop. Well, honest folks, is there anything else I can help you with?
1 Tra. D'ye hear that, Humphry?——Why, that was[Pg 241] civil now. But Courtiers seldom want Good-breeding; let's give the Devil his due. Why, to tell you the truth, honest Gentlemen, we had a whole Budget full of Grievances to complain of. But I think——a——Ha, Neighbour? We had e'en as good let 'em alone.
1 Tra. Did you hear that, Humphry?——Well, that was[Pg 241] pretty polite. But Courtiers rarely have good manners; let's give them some credit. To be honest, good gentlemen, we had a whole list of complaints to share. But I think——a——Hey, Neighbor? We might as well just leave them be.
1 Tra. Why good feath I think so too; for by all I can see, we are like to make no great hond on't. Besides, between thee and me, I began to daubt, whether aur Grievances do us such a plaguy deal of Mischief as we fancy.
1 Tra. I think you're right; from what I can tell, we're not going to make much progress on this. Plus, between you and me, I'm starting to doubt whether our problems actually cause us as much trouble as we think they do.
2 Tra. Or put the Case they did, Humphry; I'se afraid he that goes to a Courtier, in hope to get fairly rid of 'em, may be said (in our Country Dialect) to take the wrong Sow by the Ear. But here's Neighbour Roger, he's a Wit, let's leave him to him.
2 Tra. Or consider the situation they did, Humphry; I’m afraid that if someone goes to a Courtier hoping to get rid of them properly, they might be said (in our local dialect) to be grabbing the wrong pig by the ear. But here’s Neighbor Roger, he’s clever, let’s leave him to it.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
Enter Roger, a Country Bumkin, looks seriously upon Esop; then bursts out a laughing.
Enter Roger, a country bumpkin, looking seriously at Esop; then he bursts out laughing.
Rog. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Did ever Mon behold the like? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Rog. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Has any man ever seen anything like this? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Esop. Hast thou any business with me, Friend?
Esop. Do you have any business with me, friend?
Look, he couldn't stop laughing: What I have in my mind, it comes out: But aside from that;
I’m an honest guy just like anyone else.
Esop. My time's dearer to me than yours, Friend; have you any thing to say to me?
Esop. My time is more valuable to me than yours, Friend; do you have something to say to me?
Rog. Gadswookers, do People use to ask for Folks when they have nothing to say to 'em: I'se tell you my Business.
Rog. Gosh, do people really ask for folks when they have nothing to say to them? Let me tell you what I'm up to.
Esop. Let's hear it.
Esop. Let's hear it.
Rog. I have, as you see, a little Wit.
Rog. I have, as you can see, a bit of wit.
Esop. True.
Esop. For real.
Rog. I live in a Village hard by, and I'se the best Man in it, tho' I say it that should not say it. I have good Drink in my Cellar, and good Corn in my Barn: I have Cows and Oxen, Hogs and Sheep, Cocks and Hens, and Geese and Turkeys: But the Truth will out, and so let it out. I'se e'en tired of being call'd plain Roger.[Pg 242] I has a Leathern Purse, and in that Purse there's many a fair Half-crown, with the King's sweet Face upon it, God bless him; and with his Money, I have a mind to bind myself 'Prentice to a Courtier: 'Tis a good Trade, as I have heard say; there's Money stirring: Let a Lad be but diligent, and do what he's bid, he shall be let into the Secret, and share Part of the Profits; I have not lived to these Years for nothing: Those that will swim must go into deep water: I'se get our Wife Joan to be the Queen's Chamber-maid; and then——Crack, says me I; and forget all my Acquaintance. But to come to the Business. You who are the King's great Favourite, I desire you'd be pleas'd to sell me some of your Friendship, that I may get a Court-Place. Come, you shall chuse me one yourself; you look like a shrewd Man; by the Mass, you do.
Rog. I live in a village nearby, and I'm the best man in it, though I shouldn't be the one to say that. I have good drinks in my cellar and plenty of corn in my barn: I have cows and oxen, pigs and sheep, roosters and hens, plus geese and turkeys. But the truth will come out, and so let it. I'm just tired of being called plain Roger.[Pg 242] I have a leather purse, and in that purse, there are many shiny half-crowns with the king's lovely face on them, God bless him; and with his money, I plan to apprentice myself to a courtier: it's a good trade, or so I've heard; there's money to be made. If a lad is diligent and does what he's told, he’ll get in on the secret and share in some of the profits; I haven’t lived this long for nothing. Those who want to swim must jump into deep water: I’ll get our wife Joan to be the queen's chambermaid; and then—Crack, says I; and forget all my acquaintances. But to get to the point. You, who are the king's great favorite, I ask that you would please sell me some of your friendship, so I can get a court position. Come on, you get to pick one for me; you look like a clever man; by the Mass, you do.
Esop. I chuse thee a Place!
Esop. I choose a spot for you!
Rog. Yes, I wou'd willingly have it such a sort of a Place, as wou'd cost little, and bring in a great deal; in a Word, much Profit, and nothing to do.
Rog. Yes, I'd gladly want it to be a kind of place that costs little and brings in a lot; in other words, a lot of profit and nothing to do.
Esop. But you must name what Post you think wou'd suit your Humour.
Esop. But you need to name which position you think would match your mood.
Rog. Why I'se pratty indifferent as to that: Secretary of State, or Butler; twenty Shillings more, or twenty Shillings less, is not the thing I stand upon. I'se no Hagler, Godswookers; and he that says I am—'Zbud he lies: There's my Humour now.
Rog. Well, I'm pretty indifferent about that: Secretary of State or Butler; twenty shillings more or twenty shillings less doesn’t really matter to me. I’m not a haggler, for goodness’ sake; and anyone who says I am—well, they’re lying. That’s just how I feel.
Esop. But hark you, Friend, you say you are well as you are, why then do you desire to change?
Esop. But listen, Friend, you say you're fine as you are, so why do you want to change?
Rog. Why what a Question now is there for a Man of your Parts? I'm well, d'ye see me; and what of all that? I desire to be better: There's an Answer for you. [Aside.] Let Roger alone with him.
Rog. Why, what's the question for someone like you? I'm good, you see me; and what of it? I want to improve: there's your answer. [Aside.] Just let Roger handle him.
Esop. Very well: This is reasoning; and I love a Man should reason with me. But let us enquire a little whether your Reasons are good or not. You say, at home you want for nothing?
Esop. Very well: This is reasoning, and I appreciate when someone reasons with me. But let’s take a moment to see if your reasons are solid. You claim that at home you lack nothing?
Rog. Nothing, 'fore George.
Rog. Nothing, before George.
Esop. You have good Drink?
Esop. Do you have good drinks?
Rog. 'Zbud, the best i'th' Parish. [Singing.] And[Pg 243] dawne it merrily goes, my Lad, and dawne it merrily goes.
Rog. 'Zbud, the best in the Parish. [Singing.] And[Pg 243] it goes cheerfully, my friend, and it goes cheerfully.
Esop. You eat heartily?
Esop. Do you eat a lot?
Rog. I have a noble Stomach.
I have a strong stomach.
Esop. You sleep well?
Esop. Did you sleep well?
Rog. Just as I drink, till I can sleep no longer.
Rog. I just drink until I can’t stay awake anymore.
Esop. You have some honest Neighbours?
Esop. Do you have honest neighbors?
Rog. Honest! 'Zbud we are all so, the Tawne raund, we live like Breether; when one can sarve another, he does it with all his Heart and Guts; when we have any thing that's good, we eat it together, Holidays and Sundays we play at Nine-pins, tumble upon the Grass with wholesome young Maids, laugh till we split, daunce till we are weary, eat till we burst, drink till we are sleepy, then swap into Bed, and snore till we rise to Breakfast.
Rog. Honestly! We’re all like that, the Tawne raund, we live like brothers; when one can help another, he does it wholeheartedly; when we have something good, we enjoy it together. On holidays and Sundays, we play nine-pins, roll around on the grass with lively young women, laugh until we can’t anymore, dance until we’re worn out, eat until we’re full, drink until we’re sleepy, then crash into bed and snore until it’s time for breakfast.
Esop. And all this thou wou'dst leave to go to Court? I'll tell thee what once happen'd:
Esop. And you would leave all this to go to court? Let me tell you what happened once:
One day, I went out to watch some country sports, }
He met a local Village Mouse; Who with an awkward speech and bow, }
That had a strong taste of cart and plow, }
I made a change, but I don't know how, }
To invite him to his house.
He said, "My Lord, I worry you won't find..." *Our cozy local food;* But I promise, you’re welcome to it, You have that, and bread and cheese too:
And so they sat and had dinner.
He picked and selected, and turned the meat, He chomped and chewed, but couldn't eat: No toothless woman at 80, No one has ever been seen to mumble more.
He made a thousand ugly faces, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__. Which is sometimes the case for ladies }
We were all made for elegance and charm. }
He picked his teeth and blew his nose, And with a casual neglect,
As if he just came from France,
He made a careless sliding bow:
"By God, he said, I don't know how" I will return your kind gesture; But if you’ll have a bit of meat
In Town with me, You will see there, How we broke Courtiers eat.
To every Country Squire in the Nation:
Right on time he arrived,
Punctual as a woman when she arrives
A Man between a pair of Sheets,
As good of a stomach and as little shame.
With Wine, instead of Ale and Beer:
But just as they were about to eat, A hungry cat came bouncing in.
The Squire jumped too, as he could: It's not accurate to say they were defeated,
It was just a retreat;
*When an army, not to fight* Runs away during the day, hides at night,
Has ever been judged a great and glorious achievement?
The danger that has passed becomes their mockery, They start eating again like before, The Butler knocks on the door. [Pg 245]
But (like some of our friends) they discovered It was much safer to search.
Was so confused by these alarms,
He stood up in a sort of frenzy,
“Udswookers,” he said, “with all your meat,”
I will keep a dish of peas, A Radish and a Slice of Cheese,
With a nice Desert of Ease,
Is a much better treat.
However, Since everyone should get what they deserve, I appreciate it, Sir; I'm grateful to you. For your purposes at your meeting:
But curse your fancy crowd—
Rog. Amen, I pray the Lord. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Now the De'el cuckold me if this Story be not worth a Sermon. Give me your Hond, Sir.——If it had na' been for your friendly Advice, I was going to be Fool enough to be Secretary of State.
Rog. Amen, I pray to the Lord. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! If this story isn’t worth a sermon, then I’ll be a fool. Give me your hand, sir. If it weren’t for your friendly advice, I would have been foolish enough to try to become Secretary of State.
Esop. Well, go thy ways home, and be wiser for the future.
Esop. Well, go home now and learn from this for the future.
Rog. And so I will: For that same Mause, your Friend, was a witty Person, gadsbudlikins! and so our Wife Joan shall know: For between you and I, 'tis she has put me upon going to Court. Sir, she has been so praud, so saucy, so rampant, ever since I brought her home a lac'd Pinner, and a pink-colour'd pair of Shoe-strings, from Tickledowne Fair, the Parson o'th' Parish can't rule her; and that you'll say's much. But so much for that. Naw I thank you for your good Counsel, honest little Gentleman; and to shew you that I'se not ungrateful—give me your Hond once more——If you'll take the pains but to walk dawne to our Towne—a Word in[Pg 246] your Ear——I'se send you so drunk whome again, you shall remember friendly Roger as long as you have Breath in your Body.
Rog. And so I will: That same Mause, your friend, was a clever person, gosh! and our wife Joan should know: Because between you and me, she’s the one who got me to go to court. She’s been so proud, so cheeky, so aggressive ever since I brought her home a lace-trimmed headdress and a pink pair of shoelaces from Tickledowne Fair; even the parish priest can’t manage her, and you’ll agree that’s saying a lot. But enough about that. Now, I appreciate your good advice, honest little gentleman; and to show I’m not ungrateful—let me shake your hand once more—If you’d just take the time to walk down to our town—a word in [Pg 246] your ear—I’ll make sure you go home so drunk that you’ll remember friendly Roger as long as you have breath in your body.
[Exit Roger
[Exit Roger
Esop. solus.
Esop. Alone.
Your happiness and ignorance irritate me.
How noble is something called Knowledge,
Did it lead us to a Bliss like yours!
But there's a hidden curse in Wisdom's Train, }
Which, in its pleasures, leaves lasting pain, }
And makes the wise person a loser by their gain. }
[Exit.
[Leave.
ACT III.
Enter Esop.
Enter Aesop.
Esop. Who waits there?
Esop. Who is waiting there?
[Enter Servant.
[Enter Assistant.
If there be any body that has Business with me, let 'em in.
If anyone has business with me, let them in.
Serv. Yes, Sir.
Sure thing, Sir.
[Exit Serv.
[Exit Service
Enter Quaint, who stands at a distance, making a great many fawning Bows.
Enter Charming, who stands off to the side, giving many exaggerated bows.
Esop. Well, Friend, who are you?
Aesop. So, who are you, friend?
Quaint. My Name's Quaint, Sir, the profoundest of all your Honour's humble Servants.
Quaint. My name's Quaint, Sir, the most devoted of all your Honor's humble servants.
Esop. And what may your Business be with me, Sir?
Esop. And what do you want from me, sir?
Quaint. My Business, Sir, with every Man, is first of all to do him Service.
Quaint. My business, sir, with everyone is primarily to serve them.
Esop. And your next is, I suppose, to be paid for't twice as much as 'tis worth.
Esop. And your next move is, I guess, to get paid double what it's worth.
Quaint. Your Honour's most obedient humble Servant.
Charming. Your Honor's respectful servant.
Esop. Well, Sir, but upon what Account am I going to be oblig'd to you?
Esop. Well, Sir, but why am I going to owe you any favors?
Quaint. Sir, I'm a Genealogist.
Quaint. Sir, I'm a family historian.
Esop. A Genealogist!
Esop. A Family Historian!
Quaint. At your Service, Sir.
Charming. At your service, sir.
Esop. So, Sir?
Esop. What's up, Sir?
Quaint. Sir, I am inform'd from common Fame, as well as from some little private familiar Intelligence, that your Wisdom is ent'ring into Treaty with the Primum Mobilè of Good and Evil, a fine Lady. I have travell'd, Sir; I have read, Sir; I have consider'd, Sir; and I find, Sir, that the Nature of a fine Lady is to be——a fine Lady, Sir; a fine Lady's a fine Lady, Sir, all the World over;——she loves a fine House, fine Furniture, fine Clothes, fine Liveries, fine Petticoats, fine Smocks; and if she stops there—she's a fine Lady indeed, Sir. But to come to my Point. It being the Lydian Custom, that the fair Bride should be presented on her Wedding-day with something that may signify the Merit and the Worth of her dread Lord and Master, I thought the noble Esop's Pedigree might be the welcom'st Gift that he could offer. If his Honour be of the same Opinion—I'll speak a bold Word—there's ne'er a Herald in all Asia shall put better Blood in his Veins, than—Sir, your humble Servant, Jacob Quaint.
Quaint. Sir, I’ve heard from everyone and also from some reliable sources that your wisdom is about to make an agreement with the Primum Mobilè of Good and Evil, a fine lady. I’ve traveled, Sir; I’ve read, Sir; I’ve thought about it, Sir; and I find, Sir, that the nature of a fine lady is to be—well, a fine lady, Sir; a fine lady is a fine lady, Sir, everywhere in the world;—she loves a nice house, nice furniture, nice clothes, nice uniforms, nice skirts, nice dresses; and if she stops there—she’s a fine lady indeed, Sir. But let’s get to my point. Since it’s the Lydian custom for the beautiful bride to receive something that signifies the worth and greatness of her husband on her wedding day, I thought that the noble Esop's pedigree might be the best gift he could offer. If he agrees, I’ll say something bold—there’s not a herald in all of Asia who could give him better blood than—Sir, your humble servant, Jacob Quaint.
Esop. Dost thou then know my Father, Friend? For I protest to thee I am a Stranger to him.
Esop. Do you know my father, friend? I honestly tell you, I am a stranger to him.
Quaint. Your Father, Sir? Ha, ha! I know every Man's Father, Sir; and every Man's Grandfather, and every Man's Great Grandfather. Why, Sir, I'm a Herald by Nature, my Mother was a Welchwoman.
Quaint. Your dad, sir? Ha, ha! I know every man's dad, sir; and every man's grandfather, and every man's great-grandfather. Why, sir, I'm a herald by nature; my mom was a Welshwoman.
Esop. A Welchwoman? Pr'ythee of what Country is that?
Esop. A Welchwoman? Please tell me, what country is that from?
Quaint. That, Sir, is a Country in the World's Backside, where every Man is born a Gentleman and a Genealogist. Sir, I cou'd tell my Mother's Pedigree before I could speak plain; which, to shew you the Depth of my Art, and the Strength of my Memory, I'll trundle you down in an instant. Noah had three Sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet; Shem——
Quaint. That, Sir, is a country in the back of beyond, where every man is born a gentleman and a genealogist. Sir, I could recite my mother’s family history before I could speak clearly; to demonstrate the depth of my knowledge and the strength of my memory, I can lay it out for you in no time. Noah had three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet; Shem——
Esop. Hold, I conjure thee, in the Name of all thy Ancestors.
Esop. Wait, I urge you, in the name of all your ancestors.
Quaint. Sir, I cou'd take it higher, but I begin at Noah for brevity's sake.
Quaint. Sir, I could take it further, but I’ll start at Noah to keep it brief.
Esop. No more on't, I intreat thee.
Esop. Please, no more of that, I beg you.
Quaint. Your Honour's impatient, perhaps, to hear your own Descent. A Word to the wise is enough. Hem, hem! Solomon, the wise King of Judea——
Quaint. Your Honor's maybe a bit impatient to hear about your own background. A Word to the wise is enough. Hem, hem! Solomon, the wise King of Judea——
Esop. Hold, once more!
Esop. Wait, one more time!
Quaint. Ha, ha! Your Honour's modest, but——Solomon, the wise King of Judea——
Quaint. Ha, ha! Your Honor's humble, but——Solomon, the wise King of Judea——
Esop. Was my Ancestor, was he not?
Esop. He was my ancestor, right?
Quaint. He was, my Lord, which no one sure can doubt, who observes how much of Prince there hangs about you.
Quaint. He was, my Lord, and no one can doubt that who sees how much of a Prince there is in you.
Esop. What! Is't in my Mien?
Esop. What! Is it in my expression?
Quaint. You have something——wondrous noble in your Air.
Quaint. You have something——wonderfully noble in your vibe.
Esop. Personable too; view me well.
Esop. Friendly too; see me kindly.
Quaint. N——not Tall; but Majestick.
Charming. N——not tall; but majestic.
Esop. My Shape?
Esop. My Form?
Quaint. A World of Symmetry in it.
Charming. A World of Balance in it.
Esop. The Lump upon my Back?
Esop. The Bump on my Back?
Quaint. N——not regular; but agreeable.
Charming. N——not typical; but pleasant.
Esop. Now by my Honesty thou art a Villain, Herald. But Flattery's a Thrust I never fail to parry. 'Tis a Pass thou should'st reserve for young Fencers; with Feints like those they're to be hit: I do not doubt but thou hast found it so; hast not?
Esop. Honestly, you’re a villain, Herald. But I always dodge flattery. That’s a move you should save for beginners; with tricks like those, they’re bound to get hit: I’m sure you’ve noticed that too, haven’t you?
Quaint. I must confess, Sir, I have sometimes made 'em bleed by't. But I hope your Honour will please to excuse me, since, to speak the Truth, I get my Bread by't, and maintain my Wife and Children: And Industry, you know, Sir, is a commendable Thing. Besides, Sir, I have debated the Business a little with my Conscience; for I'm like the rest of my Neighbours, I'd willingly get Money, and be sav'd too, if the Thing may be done upon any reasonable Terms: And so, Sir, I say, to quiet my Conscience, I have found out at last, that Flattery is a Duty.
Charming. I have to admit, Sir, I've made them suffer because of it sometimes. But I hope you'll forgive me, since, to be honest, I earn my living from it and support my wife and kids: And hard work, as you know, Sir, is a good thing. Also, Sir, I've thought this over a bit with my conscience; after all, just like my neighbors, I’d happily make money and be saved too, if that could be managed on reasonable terms. So, Sir, to ease my conscience, I've come to understand that flattery is a duty.
Esop. A Duty!
Esop. A Responsibility!
Quaint. Ay, Sir, a Duty: For the Duty of all Men[Pg 249] is to make one another pass their time as pleasantly as they can. Now, Sir, here's a young Lord, who has a great deal of Land, a great deal of Title, a great deal of Meat, a great deal of Noise, a great many Servants, and a great many Diseases. I find him very dull, very restless, tir'd with Ease, cloy'd with Plenty, a Burden to himself, and a Plague to his Family. I begin to flatter: He springs off of the Couch; turns himself round in the Glass; finds all I say true; cuts a Caper a yard high; his Blood trickles round his Veins; his Heart's as light as his Heels; and before I leave him——his Purse is as empty as his Head. So we both are content; for we part much happier than we met.
Quaint. Yes, Sir, it's a Duty: The duty of all people[Pg 249] is to help each other enjoy their time as much as possible. Now, Sir, here’s a young Lord who has a lot of land, a lot of titles, a lot of food, a lot of noise, many servants, and many problems. I find him very dull, very restless, tired of ease, overwhelmed by abundance, a burden to himself, and a plague to his family. I start to flatter him: He jumps off the couch, checks himself out in the mirror, realizes everything I'm saying is true, does a little jump, his blood races through his veins, his heart is as light as his steps; and before I leave him—his wallet is as empty as his mind. So we both are satisfied; we part much happier than we met.
Esop. Admirable Rogue! What dost thou think of Murder and of Rape, are not they Duties too? Wert not for such vile fawning Things as thou art, young Nobles wou'd not long be what they are: They'd grow asham'd of Luxury and Ease, and rouse up the old Spirit of their Fathers; leave the pursuit of a poor frightned Hare, and make their Foes to tremble in their stead; furnish their Heads with Sciences and Arts, and fill their Hearts with Honour, Truth and Friendship; Be generous to some, and just to all; drive home their Creditors with Bags of Gold, instead of chasing 'em away with Swords and Staves; be faithful to their King and Country both, and stab the Offerer of a Bribe from either; blush even at a wandering Thought of Vice, and boldly own they durst be Friends to Virtue; trembling at nothing but the Frowns of Heaven, and be no more asham'd of Him that made 'em.
Esop. Amazing Rogue! What do you think about Murder and Rape, aren't they responsibilities too? If it weren't for vile, sycophantic people like you, young nobles wouldn't last long as they are: They’d grow ashamed of Luxury and Comfort, and awaken the old Spirit of their Fathers; abandon the pursuit of a scared Hare, and make their Enemies tremble instead; fill their minds with Knowledge and Arts, and their hearts with Honor, Truth, and Friendship; be generous to some, and fair to all; settle their debts with Bags of Gold, instead of chasing creditors away with Swords and Clubs; be loyal to both their King and Country, and reject any Bribe from either; feel ashamed even at a fleeting Thought of Vice, and proudly claim they dare to be Friends to Virtue; afraid of nothing but the Wrath of Heaven, and no longer ashamed of the one who created them.
Quaint. [Aside.] If I stand to hear this Crump preach a little longer, I shall be Fool enough perhaps to be bubbled out of my Livelyhood, and so lose a Bird in the Hand for two in the Bush. Sir, since I have not been able to bring you to a good Opinion of yourself, 'tis very probable I shall scarce prevail with you to have one of me. But if you please to do me the favour to forget me, I shall ever acknowledge myself——Sir, your most obedient, faithful, humble Servant.
Quaint. [Aside.] If I listen to this Crump preach for much longer, I might be foolish enough to get tricked out of my livelihood, losing one guaranteed opportunity for a couple of uncertain ones. Sir, since I haven’t been able to make you think highly of yourself, it’s very likely I won’t be able to make you think highly of me either. But if you would be kind enough to forget me, I will always consider myself—Sir, your most obedient, faithful, humble servant.
Esop. Hold; if I let thee go, and give thee nothing,[Pg 250] thou'lt be apt to grumble at me; and therefore——who waits there?
Esop. Hold on; if I let you go without giving you anything,[Pg 250] you'll probably complain about me; so——who's waiting out there?
Enter Servant.
Enter Attendant.
Quaint. [Aside.] I don't like his Looks, by Gad.
Quaint. [Aside.] I don't like his appearance, for sure.
Esop. I'll present thee with a Token of my Love.
Esop. I'll give you a symbol of my affection.
Quaint. A—another time, Sir, will do as well.
Quaint. A—another time, Sir, will work just fine.
Esop. No; I love to be out of Debt, tho' 'tis being out of the Fashion. So, d'ye hear! Give this honest Gentleman half a score good Strokes on the Back with a Cudgel.
Esop. No; I love being debt-free, even though it's out of style. So, listen! Give this honest gentleman a solid twenty whacks on the back with a stick.
Quaint. By no means in the World, Sir.
Quaint. Not at all in the world, sir.
Esop. Indeed, Sir, you shall take 'em.
Esop. Sure, sir, you can take them.
Quaint. Sir, I don't merit half your Bounty.
Quaint. Sir, I don't deserve half your generosity.
Esop. O 'tis but a Trifle!
Esop. Oh, it's just a trifle!
Quaint. Your Generosity makes me blush.
Cute. Your generosity makes me blush.
[Looking about to make his Escape.
[Looking around to make his escape.]
Esop. That's your Modesty, Sir.
Esop. That's your modesty, Sir.
Quaint. Sir, you are pleased to compliment. But a——twenty Pedigrees for a clear Coast.
Quaint. Sir, you are kind to compliment. But a——twenty pedigrees for a clear coast.
[Running off, the Servant after him.
[Chasing after him, the Servant.]
Esop. Wait upon him down Stairs, Fellow; I'd do't myself, were I but nimble enough; but he makes haste, to avoid Ceremony.
Esop. Wait for him downstairs, buddy; I’d do it myself if I were quick enough, but he’s rushing to skip the formalities.
Enter Servant.
Enter Attendant.
Serv. Sir, here's a Lady in great haste, desires to speak with you.
Serv. Sir, there's a lady here in a hurry who wants to speak with you.
Esop. Let her come in.
Esop. Let her in.
Enter Aminta, weeping.
Enter Aminta, crying.
Amin. O Sir, if you don't help me, I'm undone.
Amin. Oh Sir, if you don't help me, I'm doomed.
Esop. What, what's the Matter, Lady?
Esop. What’s wrong, ma'am?
Amin. My Daughter, Sir, my Daughter's run away with a filthy Fellow.
Amin. My daughter, sir, my daughter's run away with a nasty guy.
Esop. A slippery Trick indeed!
Aesop. A slippery trick indeed!
Amin. For Heaven's sake, Sir, send immediately to pursue 'em, and seize 'em. But 'tis in vain, 'twill be too late, 'twill be too late; I'll warrant at this very Moment they are got together in a Room with a Couch in't; all's gone, all's gone; tho' 'twere made of Gold, 'tis lost:[Pg 251] Oh! my Honour, my Honour. A forward Girl she was always; I saw it in her Eyes the very Day of her Birth.
Amin. For heaven's sake, sir, send someone right away to chase after them and catch them. But it’s hopeless, it’ll be too late, it’ll be too late; I bet at this very moment they're all in a room with a couch in it; everything's gone, everything's gone; even if it were made of gold, it's lost:[Pg 251] Oh! my honor, my honor. She was always a bold girl; I saw it in her eyes the very day she was born.
Esop. That indeed was early; but how do you know she's gone with a Fellow?
Esop. That was pretty early; but how do you know she's left with a guy?
Amin. I have e'en her own insolent Hand-writing for't: Sir, take but the pains to read what a Letter she has left me.
Amin. I have her own rude handwriting to prove it: Sir, just take the time to read the letter she left me.
Esop. Reads.
ESOP. Reads.
I love and am belov'd, and that's the Reason I run away.
I love and am loved, and that's why I run away.
Short, but significant!—--I'm sure there's no Body knows better than your Ladyship what Allowances are to be made to Flesh and Blood; I therefore hope this from your Justice, that what you have done three Times yourself, you'll pardon once in your Daughter. The Dickens!
Short, but significant!—--I'm sure no one knows better than you, My Lady, what allowances should be made for human nature; so I hope you'll show the same mercy to your daughter that you’ve granted yourself three times. The Dickens!
Amin. Now, Sir, what do you think of the Business?
Amin. So, what do you think about the business, Sir?
Esop. Why truly, Lady, I think it one of the most natural Businesses I have met with a great while. I'll tell you a Story.
Esop. Honestly, Lady, I think it's one of the most natural things I've encountered in a while. Let me tell you a story.
She couldn't stand to see her leave. Sidle, sidle, back and forth: The problem lies with the woman, she said, When so much money has been paid
To make you like me, It almost drives me crazy to see You’re still so awkward, an clumsy fool.
Her daughter smiled and looked to the side; }
She answered (to give her credit) Boldly, like most young women do: }
Ma'am, your Ladyship, she said,
Is happy to blame me
What you may discover upon inquiry,
Gives a decent excuse, From a commonly used proverb, That cat will be nice.
Amin. Sir, I took you to be a Man better bred, than to liken a Lady to a Crab-fish.
Amin. Sir, I thought you were more refined than to compare a lady to a crab.
Esop. What I want in Good-breeding, Lady, I have in Truth and Honesty: As what you have wanted in Virtue, you have had in a good Face.
Esop. What I value in good manners, Lady, I have in truth and honesty: Just as what you've sought in virtue, you've found in a pretty face.
Amin. Have had, Sir! What I have had, I have still; and shall have a great while, I hope. I'm no Grandmother, Sir.
Amin. I have had, Sir! What I've had, I still have; and I hope to have it for a long time. I'm not a Grandmother, Sir.
Esop. But in a fair way for't, Madam.
Esop. But in a fair way for it, Ma'am.
Amin. Thanks to my Daughter's Forwardness then, not my Years. I'd have you to know, Sir, I have never a Wrinkle in my Face. A young pert Slut! Who'd think she shou'd know so much at her Age?
Amin. Thanks to my daughter's boldness, not my age. Just so you know, Sir, I have not a single wrinkle on my face. Such a cheeky girl! Who would think she could know so much at her age?
Esop. Good Masters make quick Scholars, Lady; she has learn'd her Exercise from you.
Esop. Good teachers create fast learners, my Lady; she has picked up her skills from you.
Amin. But where's the Remedy, Sir?
Amin. But where’s the solution, Sir?
Esop. In trying if a good Example will reclaim her, as an ill one has debauch'd her. Live private, and avoid Scandal.
Esop. In trying to see if a good example will pull her back, just like a bad one led her astray. Stay private, and steer clear of scandal.
Amin. Never speak it; I can no more retire, than I can go to Church twice on a Sunday.
Amin. Never say it; I can no more step back than I can go to Church twice on a Sunday.
Esop. What, your youthful Blood boils in your Veins, I'll warrant?
Esop. What, your young blood is boiling in your veins, I can bet?
Amin. I have Warmth enough to endure the Air, old Gentleman. I need not shut myself up in a House these twenty Years.
Amin. I’m warm enough to handle the weather, old man. I don’t need to hide away in a house for twenty years.
Esop. [Aside.] She takes a long Lease of Lewdness: She'll be an admirable Tenant to Lust.
Esop. [Aside.] She embraces a long-term commitment to indulgence: She'll be an exceptional occupant for desire.
Amin. [Walking hastily to and fro.] People think when a Woman is turn'd Forty, she's old enough to turn out of the World: But I say, when a Woman is turn'd Forty, she's old enough to have more Wit. The most can be said is, her Face is the worse for wearing: I'll answer for all the rest of her Fabrick. The Men wou'd be to be pity'd, by my troth, wou'd they, if we shou'd quit the Stage, and leave 'em nothing but a parcel of young pert Sluts, that neither know how to speak Sense, nor keep themselves clean. But, don't let 'em fear, we a'n't going yet——[Esop stares upon her, and as she turns from him, runs off the Stage.] How now! What left alone! An unmannerly Piece of Deformity! Methinks he might have had Sense enough to have made Love to me. But[Pg 253] I have found Men strangely dull for the last ten or twelve Years: Sure they'll mend in Time, or the World won't be worth living in.
Amin. [Walking quickly back and forth.] People think that when a woman hits forty, she’s old enough to be sent out of the world. But I say, when a woman turns forty, she’s old enough to have more intelligence. The most that can be said is that her face shows some signs of age; I'll vouch for the rest of her having plenty of character. The men would definitely be to be pitied, honestly, if we decided to leave the stage and leave them with just a bunch of young, cheeky girls who neither know how to make sense nor keep themselves neat. But, let them not worry, we aren't going anywhere——[Esop stares at her, and as she turns away from him, runs off the stage.] What’s this! Left alone! How rude and awkward! I think he should have had enough sense to pursue me. But[Pg 253] I've found men strangely dull for the last ten or twelve years. They better improve over time, or the world won't be worth living in.
[Exit.
[Exit.]
Enter Learchus and Euphronia, Doris following at a Distance.
Enter Learchus and Euphronia, Doris following at a Distance.
Lear. [To Euph.] I must tell you, Mistress, I'm too mild with you; Parents shou'd never intreat their Children, nor will I hereafter. Therefore, in a Word, let Esop be lov'd, let Oronces be hated; let one be a Peacock, let t'other be a Bat: I'm Father, you are Daughter; I command, and you shall obey.
Lear. [To Euph.] I have to say, Mistress, I've been too lenient with you; Parents should never plead with their Children, and I won't do that anymore. So, to put it simply, let Esop be loved, let Oronces be hated; let one be a Peacock, let the other be a Bat: I'm the Father, you are the Daughter; I command, and you will obey.
Euph. I never yet did otherwise; nor shall I now, Sir; but pray let Reason guide you.
Euph. I've never done it any other way, and I won't start now, Sir; but please let reason lead you.
Lear. So it does: But 'tis my own, not yours, Hussy.
Lear. It does: But it's mine, not yours, Hussy.
Dor. Ah—Well, I'll say no more; but were I in her Place, by the Mass, I'd have a tug for't.
Dor. Ah—Well, I won't say anything more; but if I were in her position, I swear I'd make a real effort for it.
Lear. Dæmon, born to distract me! Whence art thou, in the Name of Fire and Brimstone? Have I not satisfy'd thee? Have I not paid thee what's thy due? And have not I turn'd thee out of Doors, with Orders never more to stride my Threshold, ha? Answer, abominable Spirit; what is't that makes thee haunt me?
Lear. Demon, created to torment me! Where do you come from, in the Name of Fire and Brimstone? Have I not satisfied you? Have I not given you what you deserve? And have I not kicked you out, with orders to never set foot on my property again, huh? Answer me, you detestable spirit; what is it that makes you follow me?
Dor. A foolish Passion to do you good, in spite of your Teeth: Pox on me for my Zeal, I say.
Dor. A foolish urge to help you, no matter what you think: Damn my enthusiasm, I say.
Lear. And Pox on thee, and thy Zeal too, I say.
Lear. And curse you, and your passion too, I say.
Dor. Now if it were not for her Sake more than for yours, I'd leave all to your own Management, to be reveng'd of you. But rather than I'll see that sweet Thing sacrificed—I'll play the Devil in your House.
Dor. If it weren't for her, more than for you, I'd step back and let you handle everything just to get back at you. But I wouldn't let that sweet girl be sacrificed—I'll cause chaos in your home instead.
Lear. Patience, I summon thee to my Aid.
Lear. Patience, I call on you to help me.
Dor. Passion, I defy thee; to the last Drop of my Blood I'll maintain my Ground. What have you to charge me with? Speak! I love your Child better than you do, and you can't bear that, ha? Is't not so? Nay, 'tis well y'are asham'd on't; there's some Sign of Grace still. Look you, Sir, in a few Words, you'll make me[Pg 254] mad; and 'twere enough to make any Body mad (who has Brains enough to be so) to see so much Virtue shipwreck'd at the very Port. The World never saw a Virgin better qualify'd; so witty, so discreet, so modest, so chaste: in a Word, I brought her up myself, and 'twould be the Death of me to see so virtuous a Maid become a lewd Wife; which is the usual Effect of Parents Pride and Covetousness.
Dor. Passion, I challenge you; I’ll defend my position to the last drop of my blood. What are your accusations? Go ahead, speak! I love your child more than you do, and you can’t handle that, can you? Am I right? Well, it’s good you’re ashamed of it; at least that shows you have some decency left. Listen, sir, with just a few words, you’re going to drive me[Pg 254] crazy; and honestly, anyone with enough sense would be upset to see so much virtue thrown away right at the finish line. The world has never seen a virgin more qualified; she’s so witty, so discreet, so modest, so pure: in short, I raised her myself, and it would break my heart to see such a virtuous girl turn into a promiscuous wife, which is usually the result of parents’ pride and greed.
Lear. How, Strumpet! wou'd any Thing be able to debauch my Daughter?
Lear. How, you shameless person! Would anything be able to corrupt my daughter?
Dor. Your Daughter! Yes, your Daughter, and myself into the Bargain: A Woman's but a Woman; and I'll lay a hundred Pound on Nature's side. Come, Sir, few Words dispatch Business. Let who will be the Wife of Esop, she's a Fool, or he's a Cuckold. But you'll never have a true Notion of this Matter, till you suppose yourself in your Daughter's Place. As thus: You are a pretty, soft, warm, wishing young Lady: I'm a straight, proper, handsome, vigorous, young Fellow. You have a peevish, positive, covetous, old Father, and he forces you to marry a little, lean, crooked, dry, sapless Husband. This Husband's gone abroad, you are left at home. I make you a Visit; find you all alone: the Servant pulls to the Door; the Devil comes in at the Window. I begin to wheedle, you begin to melt: you like my Person, and therefore believe all I say: so first I make you an Atheist, and then I make you a Whore. Thus the World goes, Sir.
Dor. Your daughter! Yes, your daughter, and I'm in the deal too: A woman is just a woman; and I’ll bet a hundred bucks on nature's side. Come on, sir, let’s get straight to business. Whoever ends up being the wife of Esop is either a fool or he's a cuckold. But you won’t truly understand this until you imagine yourself in your daughter’s position. Like this: You’re a lovely, soft, warm, longing young lady; I’m a tall, handsome, strong young man. You have a stubborn, greedy, grumpy old father who’s forcing you to marry a short, skinny, crooked, lifeless husband. This husband’s away, and you’re left at home. I come to visit you, find you all alone: the servant shuts the door; the devil comes in through the window. I start sweet-talking you and you begin to soften: you like my looks and so you believe everything I say. First, I turn you into an atheist, and then I turn you into a whore. That’s how the world works, sir.
Lear. Pernicious Pestilence! Has not thy eternal Tongue run down its Larum yet?
Lear. Destructive plague! Hasn't your endless noise quieted down yet?
Dor. Yes.
Yes.
Lear. Then go out of my House, Abomination.
Lear. Then get out of my house, you disgusting thing.
Dor. I'll not stir a Foot.
I won't move a muscle.
Lear. Who waits there? Bring me my great Stick.
Lear. Who's waiting there? Bring me my big stick.
Dor. Bring you a Stick! Bring you a Head-piece: That you'd call for, if you knew your own wants.
Dor. Get yourself a Stick! Get yourself a Head-piece: That you'd ask for if you understood what you really need.
Lear. Death and Furies, the Devil and so forth! I shall run distracted.
Lear. Death and madness, the Devil and all that! I’m going to go crazy.
Euph. Pray, Sir, don't be so angry at her. I'm sure she means well, tho' she may have an odd way of expressing herself.
Euph. Please, sir, don't be so mad at her. I'm sure she means well, even if she has a strange way of expressing herself.
Lear. What, you like her meaning? Who doubts it, Offspring of Venus? But I'll make you stay your Stomach with Meat of my chusing, you liquorish young Baggage you. In a Word, Esop's the Man; and to-morrow he shall be your Lord and Master. But since he can't be satisfied unless he has your Heart, as well as all the rest of your Trumpery, let me see you receive him in such a Manner that he may think himself your Choice as well as mine; 'twill make him esteem your Judgment: For we usually guess at other People's Understandings, by their approving our Actions and liking our Faces. See here, the great Man comes! [To Dor.] Follow me, Insolence; and leave 'em to express their Passion to each other. [To Euph.] Remember my last Word to you is, Obey.
Lear. What, you like her intentions? Who doubts it, child of Venus? But I'll make you fill up on food of my choosing, you greedy young thing. In short, Esop is the guy; and tomorrow he’ll be your Lord and Master. But since he can't be satisfied unless he has your heart, along with all your other stuff, let me see you welcome him in a way that makes him feel like you're picking him just as much as I am; it’ll make him respect your judgment. We usually judge other people's understanding by how they approve of our actions and like our faces. Look, the important man is coming! [To Dor.] Follow me, insolence; and let them show their feelings to each other. [To Euphoria.] Remember, my last piece of advice to you is, obey.
Dor. [To Euph. aside.] And remember my last Advice to you is, Rebel.
Dor. [To Euphemism. aside.] And keep in mind that my final piece of advice is to stand up for yourself.
[Exit Lear. Dor. following him.
[Exit Lear. Dor. following him.
Euph. Alas, I'm good-natured; the last Thing that's said to me usually leaves the deepest Impression.
Euph. Unfortunately, I'm soft-hearted; what the last person says to me usually sticks with me the most.
Enter Esop; they stand some Time without speaking.
Enter Aesop's Fables; 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.
Esop.—They say that lovers, because they lack words, have eyes that speak for them. I'm worried you don't understand my language, since yours seems unable to respond. But I have to tell you, Lady, there are many young women who are rich and beautiful, yet they take the time and effort to aim their arrows at Esop's plain heart; while you look down on what they want, that a foolish young guy is chosen over me.
Euph. Did you but know that Fop you dare to term so, his very Looks wou'd fright you into nothing.
Euph. If you only knew that guy you call a fop, his very looks would scare you to death.
Esop. A very Bauble.
Esop. A total gem.
Euph. How!
Wow!
Esop. A Butterfly.
Esop. A Butterfly.
Euph. I can't bear it.
I can't stand it.
Esop. A Parroquet can prattle and look gaudy.
Esop. A parrot can chatter and look flashy.
Euph. It may be so; but let me paint him and you[Pg 256] in your proper Colours, I'll do it exactly, and you shall judge which I ought to chuse.
Euph. That might be the case; but let me depict him and you[Pg 256] in your true colors. I'll do it accurately, and you can decide which one I should choose.
Esop. No, hold; I'm naturally not over-curious; besides, 'tis Pride makes People have their Pictures drawn.
Esop. No, wait; I'm really not that curious; plus, it's Pride that drives people to get their portraits made.
Euph. Upon my Word, Sir, you may have yours taken a hundred times before any Body will believe 'tis done upon that Account.
Euph. Honestly, Sir, you could have yours taken a hundred times before anyone would believe it's for that reason.
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.
Esop. [Aside.] She's so harsh with me! So, you’re determined to stick with it and obsess over your feather; sigh for a wig, 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.
Euph. I think, Sir, you should show more respect for what I've admitted I care about; your insults to him are also insults to me. If you keep using such provoking language, you can expect that I'll respond with my own words; and if you're as smart as some claim you are, you must realize I would have plenty to say.
Esop. But is it possible you can love so much as you pretend?
Esop. But is it really possible for you to love as much as you pretend?
Euph. Why do you question it?
Why do you doubt 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:
Esop. Because nobody loves as much as they pretend: But listen, young lady: Marriage is supposed to last a long, long time; and while one couple blesses the sacred bond, a group of unfortunate souls curses the institution. You are in an age where hearts are young and tender; a charming face gets accepted quickly. But since this terrible word, Forever, is attached to marriage, the following example should inspire you:
Attacked a young Pheasant's affectionate heart
With such success, He pleased her, even though he caused her pain; He pierced her with such skill, She smiled the moment he aimed his dart. *A Cuckoo in a nearby Tree,*
Rich, honest, ugly, old—like me,
He loved her as much as he loved his life:
No pampered priest ever studied harder. To turn a virtuous nun into a whore,
Than to get her as his wife:
But all his offers were still in vain, His limbs were weak, and his face was ordinary; Beauty, youth, and vitality weighed With the eager, warm maid: No bird, she cried, would work for her. But what could both extinguish and ignite;
She would have a young Gallant: and she did. But a month had come and gone, The Bride started to change her tone, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__. She discovered that a young Gallant was unpredictable. She wandered to a nearby grove, After thinking for a long time about love,
She told her confidant that she had found, When you have to be tied down for your life,
*Though youth was truly an enticing lure* An older husband, wealthy but unpretentious, Would give a submissive wife less pain; }
And, what’s more, was killed sooner, Which was a significant matter.
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.
Behold, young lady, here is the Cuckoo from the fable; I know I may not look great, but I’ve found a way to make a name for myself among men, which has made up for what nature didn’t give me; my rival’s beauty offers you a lot; maybe my plain appearance could give you more; at the very least, think about it, it’s worth considering.
It's true, I'm just a young philosopher,
Yet in that small space my time has passed,
I've spent some time looking for happiness:
I quickly noticed the eager chase for wealth,
I was moved to ask about their value:
I realized their value wasn't in who they were, But in their ability to grant what we could ask. I then moved on to my own desires,
To understand which State of Life would be suitable for them:
I found them reasonable in their demands,
[Pg 258] They didn't ask for a title, status, or power:
They dismissed the aspiring position of Envy:
It's true, they shook at the Name Contempt;
All they wanted was general esteem; And I had no doubt that it could be obtained,
If provided only with Virtue and Good Nature; My luck turned out to be enough to give me Life's Luxuries and Independence. This, Sir, was the result of my inquiry;
And with this plan for happiness, I create,
When I choose the man I love over you.
Esop. How wise, how witty, and how cleanly, young Women grow, as soon as ever they are in love!
Esop. How wise, how funny, and how graceful young women become as soon as they fall in love!
Euph. How foppish, how impertinent, and how nauseous are old Men, when they pretend to be so too!
Euph. How ridiculous, how arrogant, and how disgusting are old men when they try to act like they’re young!
Esop. How pert is Youth!
Esop. How lively is Youth!
Euph. How dull is Age!
How boring is aging!
Esop. Why so sharp, young Lady?
Esop. Why so edgy, young lady?
Euph. Why so blunt, old Gentleman?
Euph. Why so direct, old man?
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.
Esop. That's enough; I'll go talk to your father. I know how to handle him, even if I’m not sure how to handle you. By tomorrow noon, "Wife" will be written on your forehead, Damsel.
[Exit Esop.
[Exit Esop.
Euph. Then before to-morrow Night, Statesman, Husband shall be stampt upon your Forehead.
Euph. Then by tomorrow night, politician, your marriage will be branded on your forehead.
[Exit Euph.
[Exit Euph.
ACT IV.
Enter Oronces and Doris.
Enter Oronces and Doris.
Dor. Patience, I beseech you.
Dor. Patience, please.
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.
Oron. Patience! What, and watch that beautiful creature tossed into the arms of that pretentious monster? Damn it, I’d rather see the world reduced to atoms, humanity turned into crawfish, and myself as 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.
Dor. So you think an old woman is really unfortunate, I see; but you're wrong, Sir; she might annoy other people, but she's as entertaining to herself as anyone else in the world.
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.
Oron. [Walking back and forth.] She's the Devil—and I guess I'm one of the damned. But I'll make someone pay for it; I really will.
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.
Dor. You'll just do what all the young guys in town do, ruin your own fun: Ah—if young men's shoulders had old courtiers' heads on them, what a great time they would have! For shame, be smart; at least for your lady's sake, 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——
Oron. For her sake, I'll respect her Father, even like a God. He can hit me, walk all over me, and I'll be more humble than a crawling worm, because I won't go back on my word; but for Esop, that unfinished mass, that chaos of humanity, I'll take action against him—expect it, because I will do it—the first moment I 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.
Dor. Please don't challenge him, I hope—It would be quite a sight to see Esop all geared up for battle! Seriously, be smart for once; think about saving time by postponing the marriage for a day or two, instead of starting a fight with someone who's not worth it. There's the old man walking by himself in the gallery; go and charm him, you know his weaknesses; he’s really kind-hearted deep down. Nudge his fatherly feelings a bit, and I bet you’ll get through to him: now go, and handle your part wisely.
Oron. Well, I'll try; but if Words won't do with one, Blows shall with t'other; by Heavens, they shall.
Oron. Well, I'll give it a shot; but if words don't work with one, then I'll use force with the other; I swear it.
[Exit. Oron.
Exit. Oron.
Doris sola.
Doris alone.
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.
No, I think we’re in for some rare trouble down the line. God help us! What are people in love like? One moment they’re solid as rocks; the next, they’re like fire and quicksilver. First, they’re whining and crying, then they’re swearing and cursing. One moment they’re in love, and the next, they’re out of it. Oh, if only we could live without them—but it’s useless to think about it.
[Exit.
Exit.
Enter Esop at one side of the Stage, Mrs. Forge-will at t'other.
Enter Employee Stock Ownership Plan from one side of the stage, Mrs. Willpower from the other.
Forg. Sir, I'm your most devoted Servant! What I say is no Compliment, I do assure you.
Forg. Sir, I'm your most devoted servant! What I say is no compliment, I assure you.
Esop. Madam, as far as you are really mine, I believe I may venture to assure you, I am yours.
Esop. Madam, as long as you truly belong to me, I think I can confidently say that I am yours.
Forg. I suppose, Sir, you know that I'm a Widow.
Forg. I guess, Sir, you know that I'm a widow.
Esop. Madam, I don't so much as know you are a Woman.
Esop. Ma'am, I can't even tell you're a woman.
Forg. O surprizing! Why, I thought the whole Town had known it. Sir, I have been a Widow this Twelvemonth.
Forg. Oh wow! I thought everyone in town already knew. Sir, I’ve been a widow for a whole year.
Esop. If a Body may guess at your Heart by your Petticoat, Lady, you don't design to be so a Twelvemonth more.
Esop. If someone can judge your heart by your petticoat, my lady, you don't plan to stay like this for another year.
Forg. O bless me! Not a Twelvemonth! Why, my Husband has left me four squalling Brats. Besides, Sir, I'm undone.
Forg. Oh no! Not a year! My husband has left me with four screaming kids. Plus, Sir, I'm finished.
Esop. You seem as chearful an undone Lady as I have met with.
Esop. You seem like a cheerful, but in a tough situation, lady I've come across.
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.
Forg. Unfortunately, Sir, I have too much pride to let troubles ruin my appearance. Sir, I'll explain my situation; and that will bring me to the point of our conversation. Sir, my husband was a notary.
Esop. The deuce he was: I thought he had been a Count, at least.
Esop. I can't believe it: I thought he was at least a Count.
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[Pg 261] 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.
Forg. Sir, it's not the first time I've been mistaken for a Countess; my mother used to say that as I lay in my crib, I had the air of a woman of high stature; and honestly, I've always lived like one. My husband, indeed, had a bit of a sneaky side (as most husbands do, you know, Sir); but from the moment I stepped into his house, my goodness, what a change there was! His pewter turned into silver, his old shoes into a glass coach, and his little traveling mare into a pair of Flanders horses. Instead of a greasy cook to wait at the table, I had four tall footmen in crisp linen; everything became new and fashionable, and nothing looked awkward in my home. My furniture[Pg 261] was the talk of the neighborhood, and my clothes were admired by the whole town; I had a necklace that made the Queen jealous and a pair of earrings that made a Duchess weep. In short, I bought anything I liked, and my husband, bless him, never dared to refuse paying for it. This was how I lived and flourished until he fell ill and died: but before he was even cold in his grave, his creditors ransacked my house. But, what a shame it was to see guys with dirty shoes come into my finest rooms and touch my drapes with their filthy fingers! You won't blame me, Sir, if, despite my courage, I cry at this painful part of my misfortune.
Esop. A very sad Story, truly!
Esop. A really 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.
Forg. But now, Sir, let's get to the point. I found out this morning that the King has set aside a large sum of money for the marriage of young women who have behaved well and are now in difficult situations. I wanted to let you know that I have two strong daughters who are just right for this opportunity, and I kindly ask for your help in securing portions from the King's fund so they won't suffer or become sick with despair like many young women in the town do, or would, if there weren't other options for dealing with this issue. That's why I'm here, Sir.
Esop. And this, Madam, is my Answer:
Esop. And this, Ma'am, is my answer:
Looks at him with an envious eye, And (as the poets say) Oh my God, I can't stand this, she said,
I'll explode, or be as big as he is, And so it began to swell.
Her friends and family gathered around her, They showed her that she was very much at fault, The Thing was unattainable. She told them they were busy people,
And when her husband was about to speak, She asked him to kiss her Br——.
With that, they all just gave up on her. And she kept going as before, Until with a lot of struggle
She finally got so worked up that her anger, She exploded like one we've 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——
This, Widow, seems to be your situation, and that of many others; because this is a time when most people fall from trying too hard to reach things they shouldn't pursue. The Shoemaker's wife turns her husband into a cobbler by trying to be as stylish as the tailor's. The tailor's wife brings her husband down to a botcher by dressing as fancy as the mercer's. The mercer's makes her husband a foreman by trying to show off like the merchant's. The merchant's wears her husband down to a broker by trying to impress the upper class. And the upper class bring their husbands down to nothing by competing to outshine each other. If women were more humble, men would be more honest. Pride leads to poverty, poverty creates rogues, rogues end up getting hanged, and only the Devil benefits. Go home, woman; and since your husband supported you with his pen, support yourself with your needle; send your older daughters into service; hard work will keep them honest; a lot of work and simple food will cure their unsteady behavior just as well as a husband will.
Forg. Why, you pityful Pigmy; preaching, canting, Pickthank; you little, sorry, crooked, dry, wither'd Eunuch, do you know that——
Forg. Why, you pitiful Pygmy; preaching, rambling, Sycophant; you little, sad, twisted, dry, shriveled 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.
Esop. I know that I'm so deformed you don't have the wit 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.
Forg. Can't she? I'll give that a shot, I will.
[She falls upon him, holds his Hands, and boxes his Ears.
She jumps on him, grabs his hands, and slaps his ears.
Esop. Help, help, help.
Esop. Help!
Enter Servants. She runs off, they after her.
Enter Servants. She runs away, and they chase 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.
Esop. No, just let her go——let her go——don't bring her back——I want to build a Bridge of Gold for my Enemy to escape on——I'm completely out of Breath——A truly awful Woman, I swear.
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.
A country gentleman enters, drunk, wearing hunting gear, accompanied by a huntsman, groom, falconer, and other servants; one is leading a couple of hounds, another has greyhounds, a third is holding a spaniel, a fourth has a gun on his shoulder, and the falconer has a hawk on 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.
Gent. Haux, haux, haux, haux, haux! Joular, there Boy, Joular, Joular, Tinker, Pedlar, Miss, Miss, Miss, Miss, Miss—Blood and Oons—Oh there he is; that must be him, I’ve 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.
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.
Gent. So, Sir—now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries, let’s get down to business. I’m a gentleman with an income of three thousand pounds a year. I have a solid pack of hounds and a decent stable of horses. [To his Groom.] How many horses do I have, man?—This is my groom.
[Presenting him to Esop.
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.
Groom. Your Honor has six coach horses (Cut and Long-Tail), two racehorses, six hunters, four breeding mares, and two blind stallions, along with 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.
Gent. Look there, Sir, I refuse to lie. Anyone who questions my honor—he's a son of a whore. But let's get to the point—having heard, Sir, that you arrived in this town, I've made the effort to come here too, even though I had a lot of other business to take care of, because I’ve arranged for three Justices of the Peace to go hunting with me this morning—and to drink with them this afternoon. But the main issue needs attention—and that is this—I ask you, Sir, to tell the King that 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?
Esop. Excuse me, sir, how much tax do you owe?
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:[Pg 264] 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.
Gent. How much can I be taxed, Sir! I can be taxed, Sir—four shillings per pound, Sir; I pay half in cash—and the other half I pay in lies, Sir:[Pg 264] Hey, Joular, Joular, Joular. Haux, haux, haux, haux, haux. Hoo, hoo——Here’s the best female hound in Europe——Isn’t she? And I’d rather kiss her than kiss my wife——I swear I would——But, Sir, I don’t like these taxes.
Esop. Why how wou'd you have the War carry'd on?
Esop. How would you want the war to be conducted?
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.
Gent. War is still happening, Sir!—-Honestly, I’d prefer there be no war at all, Sir, than have to pay taxes. I don’t want to end up ruined, Sir.
Esop. Why you say, you have three thousand Pounds a Year.
Esop. Why do 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?
Gent. And so I have, Sir——Lett-Acre!——Sir, this is my Steward. How much land do I have, 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.
Lett-Acre. Your Honor has three thousand pounds a year, as good land as anyone in the county; and two thousand pounds' worth of wood to cut down at your Honor's convenience, and put the money in your pocket.
Gent. Look you there, Sir, what have you to say to that?
Gent. Look there, sir, what do you have to say about 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?
Esop. I have to say, Sir, that you can pay your taxes in cash instead of lying and still end up with a better income than you probably deserve. What are you doing for your King, Sir?
Gent. None at all, Sir—I'm above it.
Gent. Not at all, Sir—I'm beyond that.
Esop. What Service may you do your Country, pray?
Esop. What service can you provide to your country, please?
Gent. I'm Justice of the Peace——and Captain of the Militia.
Gent. I'm a Justice of the Peace—and the Captain of the Militia.
Esop. Of what use are you to your Kindred?
Esop. What are you doing for your family?
Gent. I'm the Head of the Family, and have all the Estate.
Gent. I'm the head of the family and own the entire estate.
Esop. What Good do you do your Neighbours?
Esop. What good do you do for your neighbors?
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.
Gent. I always feed them a huge meal of beef when they visit, and I get them so drunk that they end up throwing it up before they leave.
Esop. How do you use your Tenants?
Esop. How do you make use of 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.
Gent. I raise their rents until they can't take it anymore and leave, and if I catch them again, I let them rot in jail.
Esop. How do you treat your Wife?
Esop. How do you take care of your wife?
Gent. I treat her all Day with Ill-nature and Tobacco, and all Night with snoring and a dirty Shirt.
Gent. I spend all day being grumpy and smoking, and all night snoring in a dirty shirt.
Esop. How do you breed your Children?
Esop. How do you raise your kids?
Gent. I breed my eldest Son——a Fool; my youngest breed themselves, and my Daughters——have no Breeding at all.
Gent. I raised my oldest son—he's an idiot; my youngest kids are a mess, and my daughters—have no manners whatsoever.
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.
Esop. "That's fine, Sir; I'll definitely make sure to mention you to the King. Or if you think it would be better to present your case to him through a petition or address, about how fair it would be to let someone as important as you go without consequences during a necessary war, I'll bring it up in council and argue for it as I should."
Gent. Why, Sir, I don't disapprove your Advice, but my Clerk is not here, and I can't spell well.
Gent. Well, sir, I don't disagree with your advice, but my clerk isn't here, and I'm not great at spelling.
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.
Esop. You can write it at your convenience and send it to me. But since you might not be very accustomed to drafting Addresses, I’ll give you a general idea of what it should look like.
May it please your Majesty——
We humbly ask your Majesty——
To the Gent.] You'll excuse me, if I don't know your Name and Title.
To the Gent.] Please forgive me for not knowing your name and title.
Gent. Sir Polydorus Hogstye, of Beast-Hall in Swine-County.
Gent. Sir Polydorus Hogstye, of Beast-Hall in Swine-County.
Esop. Very well.
Esop. Alright.
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.
May it please your Majesty; Polydorus Hogstye, of Beast hall in Pig County, most humbly states that he hates paying taxes, as the terrible consequences are inevitably that he must cut back on two dishes out of ten, where not more than six of them are intended for gluttony.
Four Bottles out of twenty; where not above fifteen of 'em are for Drunkenness.
Four bottles out of twenty; of which no more than fifteen are for getting drunk.
Six Horses out of thirty; of which not above twenty are kept for State.
Six horses out of thirty; of which no more than twenty are kept for state purposes.
And four Servants out of a Score; where one half do nothing but make Work for t'other.
And four Servants out of twenty; where half of them just create extra work for the others.
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.
Your important issue must be brought to this unfortunate state, or forced to chop down his trees, which he would prefer to continue despite a bad roll 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.
And when it comes to whether the war is needed for the security of the kingdom, he neither knows nor cares if it's 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.
He ends with his prayers for your Majesty's life, on the condition that you will protect him and his foxhounds at Beast-Hall, without costing a single penny.
To the Gent.] This, Sir, I suppose, is much what you wou'd be at.
To the Gent.] I assume, Sir, this is pretty much what you wanted.
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.
Gent. Exactly, Sir; I'll make sure to get one set up for the same purpose: and next Fox-Hunting, I'll make sure half the group signs it. Sir, I am your——most devoted Servant; and if you'd like to visit Beast-Hall, my Huntsman, Houndsfoot, will show you a Fox that will take you through so many Hedges and Briars that you won’t have any Clothes on your Back in half an Hour—just like you had——in the Womb of your Mother. Haux, haux, haux, & c.
[Exit shouting.
Exit yelling.
Esop. O Tempora, O Mores!
Esop. Oh times, oh customs!
Enter Mr. Fruitful and his Wife.
Enter Mr. Fruitful and his Wife.
Mr. Fruit. Heavens preserve the noble Esop, grant him long Life and happy Days.
Mr. Fruit. May the heavens protect the noble Esop, and grant him a long life and happy days.
Mrs. Fruit. And send him a fruitful Wife, with a hopeful Issue!
Mrs. Fruit. And send him a successful wife, with promising offspring!
Esop. And what is it I'm to do for you, good People, to make you amends for all these friendly Wishes?
Esop. And what can I do for you, good people, to repay you for all these kind wishes?
Mr. Fruit. Sir, here's myself and my Wife—
Mr. Fruit. Sir, here are my wife and me—
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.
Mrs. Fruit. Sir, here I am with my husband—[To her Husband.] Let me speak now, Mr. Forward. [To Esop.] Sir, here I am with my husband, and I say we deserve the King's favor just as much as any 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.
Esop. If you have nothing better than some Lords in the land, I hope you don't expect much for your service.
Mr. Fruit. An't please you, you shall be Judge yourself.
Mr. Fruit. If it pleases you, you will be the 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[Pg 267] 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.
Mrs. Fruit. That's how he hands down the sentence, Mr. Littlewit; who gave you the authority to bring us to this reference? If he doesn't do us right, the King himself will; what are we supposed to do here! [To Employee Stock Ownership Plan.] Sir, I have to correct my husband a bit; poor man, he’s not used to court matters; but to give him credit, he’s pretty good at some things: Sir, I’ve had twenty lovely children with him; fifteen of them are alive, and likely to stay that way; five tall daughters are married and settled, and ten fine sons serve their King and their Country.
Esop. A goodly Company, upon my Word!
Esop. A great group, honestly!
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.
Mrs. Fruit. If all men cared as much about populating the kingdom, we could roll up our sleeves and say, "A fig for our enemies!" But we have so many lazy people among us—Keep your chin up, husband—He's a bit embarrassed, sir, because I scolded him; but at his core, he is a really good man. Now, getting to my point, sir, I hope the king will see it as fair to give me something for the service I've done him; it's a shame that hard work isn't rewarded, especially when it's done with enthusiasm.
Esop. What Profession are you of, good People?
Esop. What do you do for a living, good people?
Mrs. Fruit. My Husband's an Inn-keeper, Sir; he bears the Name, but I govern the House.
Mrs. Fruit. My husband's an innkeeper, sir; he has the title, but I run the place.
Esop. And what Posts are your Sons in, in the Service?
Esop. And what positions do your sons hold in the service?
Mrs. Fruit.. Sir, there are four Monks.
Mrs. Fruit. Sir, there are four monks.
Mr. Fruit. Three Attorneys.
Mr. Fruit. Three Lawyers.
Mrs. Fruit. Two Scriveners.
Mrs. Fruit. Two Writers.
Mr. Fruit. And an Exciseman.
Mr. Fruit. And a Tax Officer.
Esop. The deuce o'the Service; why, I thought they had been all in the Army.
Esop. What the heck is going on with the Service? I thought they all had been in the Army.
Mrs. Fruit. Not one, Sir.
Mrs. Fruit. Not a chance, 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.
Esop. No, it appears that way, honestly: Ten sons who "serve their country," right? Monks, lawyers, scribes, and tax collectors serve their country in their own way: you truly deserve a reward; you should actually be hanged, you wicked people. Get out of my sight: I've never been this angry in my life.
[Exit Esop.
[Exit Aesop.
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[Pg 268] 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.
Mr. Fruit. to his Wife.] So, who's right now, you or me? I told you what would happen; you're always breeding and breeding, and the King would take care of them, and the Queen would take care of them: and there was always some excuse or another. But now we’ve got a big pack of pups, and the Devil will take care of them, as far as I can see. Your sons are all up to no good, and your daughters are all promiscuous; you know it’s true.
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.
Mrs. Fruit. What, you’re holding back your effort now, you lazy, sluggish, phlegmatic drone? Want to just lie around and do nothing, huh? Well, I’ll get you motivated, I really will. Go home, just go home, you worthless bum; I’ll cheer you up.
[Exit, pushing him before her.
[Leave, guiding him ahead.]
Re-enter Esop.
Re-enter Aesop.
Esop. solus.] Monks, Attorneys, Scriveners, and Excisemen!
Esop. solus.] Monks, lawyers, notaries, and tax collectors!
Enter Oronces.
Enter Oronces.
Oron. O here he is. Sir, I have been searching for you, to say two Words to you.
Oron. Oh, there you are. Sir, I've been looking for you to say a couple of things.
Esop. And now you have found me, Sir, what are they?
Esop. And now that you've found me, Sir, what are they?
Oron. They are, Sir——that my Name's Oronces: You comprehend me.
Oron. Yes, Sir—I go by the name Oronces: You understand me.
Esop. I comprehend your Name.
Esop. I understand your name.
Oron. And not my Business?
Oron. And not my job?
Esop. Not I, by my Troth.
Esop. Not me, for sure.
Oron. Then I shall endeavour to teach it you, Monsieur Esop.
Oron. Then I will try to teach it to you, Monsieur Esop.
Esop. And I to learn it, Monsieur Oronces.
Esop. And I want to learn it, Mr. Oronces.
Oron. Know, Sir——that I admire Euphronia.
Oron. Just so you know, Sir— I admire Euphronia.
Esop. Know, Sir——that you are in the right on't.
Esop. You’re right about that, Sir.
Oron. But I pretend, Sir, that Nobody else shall admire her.
Oron. But I act as if no one else should admire her.
Esop. Then I pretend, Sir, she won't admire you.
Esop. Then I act like, Sir, she wouldn't think you're impressive.
Oron. Why so, Sir?
Oron. Why is that, Sir?
Esop. Because, Sir——
Esop. Because, Sir—
Oron. What, Sir?
Oron. What is it, Sir?
Esop. She's a Woman, Sir.
Esop. She's a lady, Sir.
Oron. What then, Sir?
Oron. What now, Sir?
Esop. Why, then, Sir, she desires to be admir'd by every Man she meets.
Esop. So, Sir, she wants to be admired by every man she meets.
Oron. Sir, you are too familiar.
Oron. Sir, you're 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——
Esop. Sir, you are too proud; I need to soften that harsh tone of yours: It doesn’t suit you, Sir; it makes a gentleman look like a porter, Sir: And so you can understand the value of good language, I’ll tell you what once happened. Once upon a time——
Oron. I'll have none of your old Wives Fables, Sir, I have no Time to lose; therefore, in a Word——
Oron. I won't listen to your old wives' tales, sir. I don't have time to waste; so, to be brief——
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.
Esop. In a nutshell, be gentle: It’s the only way to truly help yourself. Good manners and kind words have accomplished many tough situations. So please listen to me carefully.
You stylish, young, clever guys will do,
To escape the awful pain of thinking)
They had sent orders for him to behead
A goose, just like any chaplain, is well-fed. He went to great lengths to fix his knife. It would have been better to lose one's life over it.
But many men have many thoughts,
There are different tastes in different kinds:
*A Swan (who he mistakenly grabbed)* I was more content with a miserable life:
As he was about to deliver the blow,
In melodic messages, she informed him, She was neither a Goose nor did she wish to be. To make her exit like that. The Cook (who only thought about Blood,
Unless it was the Grease,
For that you know his fees)
To hear her sing left everyone in great amazement. Cod's fish! he said, it was good that you spoke,
Because I was right on the stroke:
Your feathers contain a lot of goose down,
A drunk cook couldn't do any less. Than think about this: That you'll admit:
But you have a voice that's so soft and sweet,
That instead of you being eaten,
*The House will suffer from a lack of food:*
And so he let her go.
To Oron.] Now, Sir, what say you? will you be the Swan, or the Goose?
To Oron.] So, what do you think, Sir? Are you going to be the Swan or the Goose?
Young Men and Lovers Deserve Forgiveness:
But since the faults of age have no such excuse, I hope you'll be more careful about not offending. The flame that warms both Euphronia's heart and mine,
Has long, unfortunately! been ignited in our hearts:
It's been many years since our two souls were married,
It would be considered adultery just to want to separate them.
And would a lump of clay alone satisfy you,
A mistress who is cold and unresponsive in your arms, Without any remnants or signs of life,
Except for her sighs to mourn her absent lover? While you should hold her tightly in your eager arms, With heartfelt desire and excitement of love,
Would it not cut you to the core,
To see her tears streaming down her cheeks,
And know that their Fountain meant everything to me? Could you handle this? Yet this is how the Gods take their revenge on those Who interrupts the joyful path of mutual love.
If you have to be unlucky in one way, Choose that which Justice may support your Grief,
And avoid the heavy curse of wronged lovers.
If anything were at stake except for my Euphronia——
Your request would be too compelling to deny.
But our discussion is about a lady, sir,
That's young, that's beautiful, and that's made for love.
So am I not, you'll say: But you're wrong;
[Pg 271] I'm meant to love, though not to be loved. I have a heart like yours; I've got foolishness too:
I have all the tools of love just like everyone else.
It's easy for you to become its Master:
While I should try in vain; mine is old and fixed.
Esop. The older 'tis, the easier to be govern'd; Were mine of as long a standing, 'twere possible I might get the better on't. Old Passions are like old Men; weak, and soon jostled into the Kennel.
Esop. The older it is, the easier it is to manage; if mine had been around as long, it might be possible for me to take control. Old passions are like old men; weak and easily pushed aside.
Oron. Yet Age sometimes is strong, even to the Verge of Life.
Oron. Yet age can be powerful, even at the brink of life.
Esop. Ah, but there our Comparison don't hold.
Esop. Ah, but our comparison breaks down there.
Oron. You are too merry to be much in Love.
Oron. You seem too cheerful to be really in love.
Esop. And you too sad to be so long.
Esop. And you're too sad to take so long.
Oron. My grief may end my Days, so quench my Flame, but nothing else can e'er extinguish it.
Oron. My sorrow might cut my life short, so put out my flame, but nothing else can ever snuff it out.
Esop. Don't be discourag'd, Sir, I have seen many a Man outlive his Passion twenty Years.
Esop. Don't be discouraged, Sir, I've seen many a man get over his passion in twenty years.
Oron. But I have sworn to die Euphronia's Slave.
Oron. But I have sworn to be Euphronia's slave until death.
Esop. A decay'd Face always absolves a Lover's Oath.
Esop. A worn-out face always excuses a lover's promise.
Oron. Lovers whose Oaths are made to Faces, then; But 'tis Euphronia's Soul that I adore, which never can decay.
Oron. Lovers whose promises are made to appearances, then; But it's Euphronia's soul that I adore, which can never fade away.
Esop. I wou'd fain see a young Fellow in love with a Soul of Threescore.
Esop. I would love to see a young guy in love with someone who's sixty.
And this is all I ask from the Gods and you.
[Exit Oron.
[Exit Oron.
Esop solus.
Esop alone.
A good Pretence, however, to beg long Life. How grosly do the Inclinations of the Flesh impose upon the Simplicity of the Spirit! Had this young Fellow but study'd Anatomy, he'd have found the Source of his Passion lay far from his Mistress's Soul. Alas! alas! Had Women no more Charms in their Bodies, than what they have in their Minds, we should see more wise Men in the World, and much fewer Lovers and Poets.
A good excuse, though, to wish for a long life. How strongly do our physical desires take advantage of the purity of the spirit! If this young man had just studied anatomy, he would have realized that the source of his passion was far from his beloved’s soul. Oh dear! If women had no more beauty in their bodies than they do in their minds, we would see a lot more wise men in the world and a lot fewer lovers and poets.
[Exit.
[Leave.
ACT V.
Enter Euphronia and Doris.
Enter Euphronia and Doris.
Euph. Heavens! what is't you make me do, Doris? Apply myself to the Man I loath; beg Favours from him I hate; seek a Reprieve from him I abhor; 'tis low, 'tis mean, 'tis base in me.
Euph. Wow! what are you making me do, Doris? Put myself to work for the guy I can't stand; ask for favors from someone I detest; look for mercy from someone I despise; it's so low, so petty, so beneath me.
Dor. Why, you hate the Devil as much as you do Esop, or within a small Matter, and should you think it a Scandal to pray him to let you alone a Day or two, if he were going to run away with you; ha?
Dor. Why do you hate the Devil as much as you hate Esop, or even a little more? And would you find it scandalous to ask him to leave you alone for a day or two if he were planning to take you away? Ha?
Euph. I don't know what I think, nor what I say, nor what I do: But sure thou'rt not my Friend thus to advise me.
Euph. I have no idea what I think, what I say, or what I do: But there's no way you're my friend if you advise me like this.
Dor. I advise! I advise nothing; e'en follow your own way; marry him, and make much of him. I have a mind to see some of his Breed; if you like it, I like it: He shan't breed out of me only; that's all I have to take Care of.
Dor. I suggest! I suggest nothing; just go your own way; marry him and treat him well. I want to see some of his kids; if you like them, I like them: He won't be the only one having kids; that's all I care about.
Euph. Pr'ythee don't distract me.
Please don't distract me.
Dor. Why, to-morrow's the Day, fix'd and firm, you know it; much Meat, little Order, great many Relations, few Friends, Horse-play, Noise, and bawdy Stories; all's ready for a complete Wedding.
Dor. Well, tomorrow's the day, set and solid, you know that; a lot of food, a bit of chaos, a ton of relatives, a few friends, horseplay, noise, and risqué stories; everything's ready for a full-on wedding.
Euph. Oh! what shall I do?
Oh! what should I do?
Dor. Nay, I know this makes you tremble; and yet your tender Conscience scruples to drop one hypocritical Curtsy, and say, Pray, Mr. Esop, be so kind to defer it a few Days longer.
Dor. No, I know this makes you nervous; and yet your sensitive conscience hesitates to give a fake curtsy and say, Please, Mr. Esop, be kind enough to wait a few more days.
Euph. Thou know'st I cannot dissemble.
You know I can't pretend.
Dor. I know you can dissemble well enough, when you shou'd not do't. Do you remember how you us'd to plague your poor Oronces; make him believe you loath'd him, when you cou'd have kiss'd the Ground he[Pg 273] went on; affront him in all publick Places; ridicule him in all Company; abuse him wherever you went And when you had reduc'd him within an Ace of hanging or drowning, then come home with Tears in your Eyes, and cry, Now, Doris, let's go lock ourselves up, and talk of my dear Oronces: Is not this true?
Dor. I know you can pretend really well, even when you shouldn't. Do you remember how you used to torment poor Oronces; make him think you hated him, when you would have gladly kissed the ground he walked on? You'd insult him in all public places; make fun of him in front of everyone; belittle him wherever you went. And when you had him nearly ready to hang himself or drown, you'd come home with tears in your eyes and say, "Now, Doris, let's go lock ourselves up and talk about my dear Oronces." Isn't that true?
Euph. Yes, yes, yes. But, pr'ythee, have some Compassion of me. Come, I'll do any thing thou bid'st me——What shall I say to this Monster? Tell me, and I'll obey thee.
Euph. Yes, yes, yes. But please, have some compassion for me. Come on, I'll do whatever you tell me—What should I say to this monster? Just let me know, and I'll do it.
Dor. Nay, then there's some hopes of you. Why, you must tell him——'Tis natural to you to dislike Folks at first sight: That since you have consider'd him better, you find your Aversion abated: That tho' perhaps it may be a hard Matter for you ever to think him a Beau, you don't despair, in Time, of finding out his Je-ne-sçai-quoy. And that on t'other side, tho' you have hitherto thought (as most young Women do) that nothing cou'd remove your first Affection, yet you have very great Hopes in the natural Inconstancy of your Sex. Tell him, 'tis not impossible, a Change may happen, provided he gives you Time: But that if he goes to force you, there's another Piece of Nature peculiar to Women, which may chance to spoil all, and that's Contradiction. Ring that Argument well in his Ears: He's a Philosopher; he knows it has Weight in it. In short, wheedle, whine, flatter, lye, weep, spare nothing; 'tis a moist Age, Women have Tears enow; and when you have melted him down, and gain'd more Time, we'll employ it in Closet-debates, how to cheat him to the end of the Chapter.
Dor. Well, that gives me some hope for you. Look, you need to tell him—it's just how you are to initially dislike people. Now that you've thought about him more, you find your dislike fading. Even though it might be hard for you to ever see him as a catch, you’re not giving up hope that in time you'll discover his special something. On the flip side, even though you've thought, like most young women do, that nothing could change your first feelings, you actually have a lot of hope in the natural fickleness of your gender. Tell him it's not impossible for you to change your mind, as long as he gives you some time. But if he tries to pressure you, there's another aspect of human nature, particularly in women, that could ruin everything, and that's Contradiction. Keep that argument in his mind: he's a philosopher; he knows it makes sense. In short, charm him, whine a bit, flatter him, lie if you have to, cry, use everything you've got; it’s a sentimental time, and women have plenty of tears. Once you’ve softened him up and bought yourself more time, we can use it to plan how to keep deceiving him until the end of the story.
Euph. But you don't consider, Doris, that by this Means I engage myself to him; and can't afterwards with Honour retreat.
Euph. But you don't realize, Doris, that by doing this I'm committing to him; and I can't back out with my dignity intact later.
Dor. Madam, I know the World—Honour's a Jest, when Jilting's useful. Besides, he that wou'd have you break your Oath with Oronces, can never have the Impudence to blame you, for cracking your Word with himself. But who knows what may happen between the Cup and the Lip? Let either of the old Gentlemen[Pg 274] die, and we ride triumphant. Wou'd I could but see the Statesman sick a little, I'd recommend a Doctor to him, a Cousin of mine, a Man of Conscience, a wise Physician; tip but the Wink, he understands you.
Dor. Madam, I know how the world works—honor is a joke when leaving someone is convenient. Besides, anyone who expects you to break your promise to Oronces can never have the nerve to blame you for going back on your word with him. But who knows what could happen between the cup and the lip? If either of the old gentlemen[Pg 274] dies, then we’ll be victorious. If only I could see the politician a bit unwell, I’d recommend a doctor to him, a cousin of mine, a man with integrity, a wise physician; just give him a hint, and he’ll know what you mean.
Euph. Thou wicked Wench, wou'd'st poison him?
Euph. You wicked woman, would you poison him?
Dor. I don't know what I wou'd do; I think, I study, I invent, and somehow I will get rid of him. I do more for you, I'm sure, than you and your Knight-Errant do together for yourselves.
Dor. I have no idea what I would do; I think, I plan, I come up with ideas, and somehow I'll get rid of him. I definitely do more for you, I'm sure, than you and your Knight-Errant do together for yourselves.
Euph. Alas, both he and I do all we can; thou know'st we do.
Euph. Unfortunately, both he and I are doing everything we can; you know we are.
Dor. Nay, I know y' are willing enough to get together; but y' are a couple of helpless Things, Heaven knows.
Dor. No, I know you want to get together; but you’re a couple of helpless things, heaven knows.
Euph. Our Stars, thou see'st, are bent to Opposition.
Euph. Our stars, you see, are aligned against us.
Dor. Stars!—I'd fain see the Stars hinder me from running away with a Man I lik'd.
Dor. Stars!—I would gladly see the stars try to stop me from running away with a guy I liked.
Euph. Ay, but thou know'st, should I disoblige my Father, he'd give my Portion to my younger Sister.
Euph. Yeah, but you know if I upset my dad, he'd give my share to my younger sister.
Dor. Ay, there the Shoe pinches, there's the Love of the Age! Ah!—--to what an Ebb of Passion are Lovers sunk in these Days! Give me a Woman that runs away with a Man, when his whole Estate's pack'd up in his Knap-sack: That tucks up her Coats to her Knees; and thro' thick and thro' thin, from Quarters to Camp, trudges heartily on; with a Child at her Back, another in her Arms, and a Brace in her Belly: There's Flame with a Witness, where this is the Effects on't. But we must have Love in a Feather-bed: Forsooth, a Coach and six Horses, clean Linen, and Cawdle! Fie for shame. O ho! here comes our Man. Now shew yourself a Woman, if you are one.
Dor. Ah, that's where it really hurts, that's the Love of today's world! Oh, how far lovers have fallen in their passion these days! Give me a woman who runs off with a man when all his possessions are packed in a backpack: one who hitches up her skirts to her knees and, through thick and thin, from place to place, marches on happily; carrying a baby on her back, another in her arms, and another on the way: that’s real passion, where you see the effects of it. But now we want love to be cozy in a feather bed: Really, a fancy carriage with six horses, clean sheets, and sweetened drink! Shame on that. Oh look, here comes our man. Now show us what it means to be a woman, if you actually are one.
Enter Esop.
Enter Aesop.
Esop. I'm told, fair Virgin, you desire to speak with me. Lovers are apt to flatter themselves; I take your Message for a Favour. I hope 'twas meant so.
Esop. I've been told, lovely lady, that you want to talk to me. Lovers tend to have a high opinion of themselves; I see your message as a compliment. I hope it was meant that way.
Euph. Favours from Women are so cheap of late, Men may expect 'em truly, without Vanity.
Euph. Women’s favors have become so common lately, Men can really expect them without feeling vain.
Esop. If the Women are so liberal, I think the Men are generous too, on their Side: 'Tis a well-bred Age;[Pg 275] thank Heaven; and a deal of Civility there passes between the two Sexes. What Service is't that I can do you, Lady?
Esop. If the women are so generous, I believe the men are pretty generous too. It's a well-mannered time;[Pg 275] thank goodness; and there's a lot of courtesy exchanged between the two sexes. What can I do for you, ma'am?
Euph. Sir, I have a small Favour to intreat you.
Euph. Sir, I have a small favor to ask of you.
Esop. What is't? I don't believe I shall refuse you.
Esop. What is it? I don’t think I’ll say no to you.
Euph. What if you shou'd promise me you won't?
Euph. What if you promised me you wouldn't?
Esop. Why then I shou'd make a Divorce between my Good-breeding and my Sense, which ought to be as sacred a Knot as that of Wedlock.
Esop. Why should I separate my good manners from my common sense, which should be as sacred a bond as marriage?
Euph. Dare you not trust then, Sir, the Thing you love?
Euph. Don’t you trust, then, sir, the thing you love?
Esop. Not when the Thing I love don't love me: Never.
Esop. Not when the thing I love doesn't love me back: Never.
Dor. Trust is sometimes the Way to be belov'd.
Dor. Sometimes, trust is the way to be loved.
Esop. Ay, but 'tis oftener the way to be cheated.
Esop. Yes, but it's more often the way to get duped.
Euph. Pray promise me you'll grant my Suit.
Euph. Please promise me you'll agree to my request.
Dor. 'Tis a reasonable one, I'll give you my word for't.
Dor. "It's a fair one, I promise you."
Esop. If it be so, I do promise to grant it.
Esop. If that's the case, I promise to give it.
Dor. That's still leaving yourself Judge.
Dor. That's still putting yourself first, Judge.
Esop. Why, who's more concern'd in the Trial?
Esop. Why, who's more involved in the trial?
Dor. But no Body ought to be Judge in their own Cause.
Dor. But no one should be the judge in their own case.
Esop. Yet he that is so, is sure to have no wrong done him.
Esop. But someone like that is guaranteed to not have any wrong done to them.
Dor. But if he does wrong to others, that's worse.
Dor. But if he wrongs others, that's even worse.
Esop. Worse for them, but not for him.
Esop. Tough luck for them, but not for him.
Dor. True Politician, by my troth!
True politician, I swear!
Esop. Men must be so, when they have to do with Sharpers.
Esop. People must behave this way when dealing with con artists.
Euph. If I shou'd tell you then there were a Possibility I might be brought to love you, you'd scarce believe me.
Euph. If I told you that there was a chance I could come to love you, you probably wouldn't believe me.
Esop. I shou'd hope as a Lover, and suspect as a Statesman.
Esop. I should hope like a lover and be suspicious like a politician.
Dor. [Aside.] Love and Wisdom! There's the Passion of the Age again.
Dor. [Aside.] Love and Wisdom! There’s that Passion of the Age again.
Euph. You have liv'd long, Sir, and observ'd much: Did you never see Time produce strange Changes?
Euph. You've lived a long time, Sir, and seen a lot: Have you ever noticed how time brings about strange changes?
Esop. Amongst Women, I must confess I have.
Esop. I have to admit, among women, I do.
Euph. Why, I'm a Woman, Sir.
Euph. Why, I'm a woman, sir.
Esop. Why, truly, that gives me some Hopes.
Esop. Honestly, that gives me some hope.
Euph. I'll encrease 'em, Sir; I have already been in Love two Years.
Euph. I'll increase them, Sir; I've already been in love for two years.
Dor. And Time, you know, wears all things to tatters.
Dor. And Time, as you know, wears everything down to nothing.
Esop. Well observ'd.
Esop. Well noted.
Euph. What, if you shou'd allow me some, to try what I can do?
Euph. What if you let me have some to see what I can do?
Esop. Why, truly, I would have Patience a Day or two, if there was as much Probability of my being your new Gallant, as perhaps there may be of changing your old one.
Esop. Well, honestly, I could be patient for a day or two if there was even a small chance of me being your new guy, just like there might be a chance of you swapping out your old one.
Dor. She shall give you fair Play for't, Sir; Opportunity and Leave to prattle, and that's what carries most Women in our Days. Nay, she shall do more for you: You shall play with her Fan; squeeze her little Finger; buckle her Shoe; read a Romance to her in the Arbour; and saunter in the Woods on a Moonshiny Night. If this don't melt her, she's no Woman, or you're no Man——
Dor. She'll give you a fair chance, Sir; the opportunity and permission to chat, which is what most women go for these days. Actually, she'll do even more for you: you can play with her fan, hold her little finger, fasten her shoe, read her a romance in the garden, and stroll in the woods on a moonlit night. If that doesn't win her over, she’s not a woman, or you’re not a man—
Esop. I'm not a Man to melt a Woman that Way: I know myself, and know what they require. 'Tis thro' a Woman's Eye you pierce her Heart; and I've no Darts can make their Entrance there.
Esop. I'm not the kind of guy who can win a woman's heart that way: I know myself and what they want. You reach a woman's heart through her eyes, and I don't have the arrows to get in there.
Dor. You are a great Statesman, Sir; but I find you know little of our Matters. A Woman's Heart is to be enter'd forty Ways. Every Sense she has about her keeps a Door to it. With a Smock-face, and a Feather, you get in at her Eyes. With powerful Nonsense, in soft Words, you creep in at her Ears. An essenc'd Peruke, and a sweet Handkerchief, lets you in at her Nose. With a Treat, and a Box full of Sweetmeats, you slip in at her Mouth: And if you wou'd enter by her Sense of Feeling, 'tis as beaten a Road as the rest. What think you now, Sir? There are more Ways to the Wood than one, you see.
Dor. You’re a great statesman, Sir, but it seems you don’t understand our matters very well. A woman’s heart can be accessed in many ways. Every sense she has is like a door. With a pretty face and a feather, you can catch her eye. With some charming nonsense spoken softly, you can win her over with your words. A fancy wig and a nice handkerchief appeal to her sense of smell. With a treat and a box of sweets, you can entice her taste. And if you want to connect with her through touch, that’s just as common a route as the others. What do you think now, Sir? There are more ways to the wood than one, you see.
Esop. Why, you're an admirable Pilot; I don't doubt but you have steer'd many a Ship safe to Harbour: But I'm an old stubborn Seaman; I must sail by my own Compass still.
Esop. You're a great captain; I have no doubt you've guided many ships safely to port. But I'm an old, stubborn sailor; I still have to navigate by my own compass.
Euph. And by your Obstinacy lose your Vessel.
Euph. And by your stubbornness, you'll lose your ship.
Esop. No: I'm just ent'ring into Port; we'll be married to-morrow.
Esop. No: I'm just entering Port; we'll be getting married tomorrow.
Euph. For Heaven's sake defer it some Days longer; I cannot love you yet; indeed, I cannot.
Euph. For heaven's sake, wait a few more days; I just can't love you yet; honestly, I can't.
Esop. Nor never will, I dare swear.
Esop. I don’t think that will ever happen, I can promise you that.
Euph. Why then will you marry me?
Euph. So, why do you want to marry me?
Esop. Because I love you.
Esop. Because I care about you.
Euph. If you lov'd me, you wou'd never make me miserable.
Euph. If you loved me, you would never make me miserable.
Esop. Not if I lov'd you for your sake; but I love you for my own.
Esop. Not because I love you for your sake; but I love you for my own.
Dor. [Aside.] There's an old Rogue for you.
Dor. [Aside.] There's a classic con artist for you.
Euph. [Weeping.] Is there no way left? must I be wretched?
Euph. [Weeping.] Is there no way out? Must I be miserable?
Esop. 'Tis but resolving to be pleas'd. You can't imagine the Strength of Resolution. I have seen a Woman resolve to be in the Wrong all the Days of her Life; and by the help of her Resolution, she has kept her Word to a Tittle.
Esop. It's just about deciding to be pleased. You can't imagine the power of determination. I've seen a woman decide to be wrong every day of her life; and with her determination, she's stuck to her word down to the last detail.
Euph. Methinks the Subject we're upon shou'd be of Weight enough to make you serious.
Euph. I think the topic we're discussing should be important enough to make you take it seriously.
Esop. Right: To-morrow Morning pray be ready; you'll find me so: I'm serious. Now I hope you are pleas'd.
Esop. Right: Tomorrow morning, please be ready; you’ll find me ready too: I’m serious. Now I hope you’re pleased.
[Turning away from her.
Turning away from her.
Euph. [Going off weeping, and leaning upon Doris.] Break, Heart! for if than hold'st, I'm miserable.
Euph. [Walking away in tears, leaning on Doris.] Break, Heart! because if you hold on, I’m miserable.
Dor. [To Esop.] Now may the Extravagance of a lewd Wife, with the Insolence of a virtuous one, join hand in hand to bring thy grey Hairs to the Grave.
Dor. [To Esop.] Now may the recklessness of a shameless wife and the arrogance of a virtuous one come together to bring your gray hairs to the grave.
[Exeunt Euphronia and Doris.
[Exit Euphronia and Doris.
Esop. My old Friend wishes me well to the last, I see.
Esop. I see my old friend wishes me well until the end.
Enter Learchus hastily, follow'd by Oronces.
Learchus enters hurriedly, followed by Oronces.
Oron. Pray hear me, Sir.
Oron. Please listen to me, Sir.
Lear. 'Tis in vain; I'm resolv'd, I tell you. Most noble Esop, since you are pleas'd to accept of my poor Offspring for your Consort, be so charitable to my old Age, to deliver me from the Impertinence of Youth, by making her your Wife this Instant; for there's a Plot against my Life; they have resolv'd to teaze me to Death to-night, that they may break the Match to-morrow Morning. Marry her this instant, I intreat you.
Lear. It's pointless; I've made up my mind, I swear. Most noble Esop, since you’re willing to take my poor child as your partner, please, out of kindness for my old age, relieve me from the annoyance of youth by marrying her this moment; there’s a scheme against my life; they’ve decided to torment me to death tonight so they can ruin the engagement tomorrow morning. Please marry her right now, I beg you.
Esop. This instant, say you!
Esop. Right now, say you!
Lear. This instant; this very instant.
This moment; right this moment.
Esop. 'Tis enough; get all things ready; I'll be with you in a Moment.
Esop. That's enough; get everything ready; I'll be with you in a moment.
[Exit Esop.
[Exit Esop.
Lear. Now, what say you, Mr. Flame-fire? I shall have the Whip-hand of you presently.
Lear. So, what do you have to say, Mr. Flame-fire? I'll have the upper hand over you soon.
Oron. Defer it till to-morrow, Sir.
Sure thing, Sir. Let's postpone it until tomorrow.
Lear. That you may run away with her to-night; ha?——Sir, your most obedient humble Servant. Hey, who waits there? Call my Daughter to me: Quick. I'll give her her Dispatches presently.
Lear. So you can take her away with you tonight; huh?——Sir, your most obedient humble servant. Hey, who’s waiting there? Bring my daughter to me: Quick. I’ll give her what she needs soon.
Enter Euphronia.
Welcome Euphronia.
Euph. D'ye call, Sir.
Hey, do you need me, Sir?
Lear. Yes, I do, Minx. Go shift yourself, and put on your best Clothes. You are to be marry'd.
Lear. Yes, I do, Minx. Go get ready and put on your best clothes. You're getting married.
Euph. Marry'd, Sir!
Married, Sir!
Lear. Yes, marry'd, Madam; and that this Instant too.
Lear. Yes, married, ma'am; and right this moment as well.
Euph. Dear Sir——
Dear Sir——
Lear. Not a Word: Obedience and a clean Smock; dispatch.
Lear. Not a word: Just do what you’re told and keep it tidy; get it done.
[Exit Euphronia weeping.
Exit Euphronia in tears.
Learchus going off, turns to Oronces.] Sir, your most obedient humble Servant.
Learchus walking away, turns to Oronces.] Sir, your most obedient humble servant.
Oron. Yet hear what I've to say.
Oron. But listen to what I have to say.
Lear. And what have you to say, Sir?
Lear. So, what do you have to say, Sir?
Oron. Alas! I know not what I have to say!
Oron. Oh no! I don’t even know what to say!
Lear. Very like so. That's a sure Sign he's in love now.
Lear. Exactly. That's a clear sign he's in love now.
Oron. Have you no Bowels?
Oron. Do you have no compassion?
Lear. Ha, ha! Bowels in a Parent! Here's a young Fellow for you. Hark thee, Stripling; being in a very merry Humour, I don't care if I discover some paternal Secrets to thee. Know then, that how humoursome, how whimsical soever we may appear, there's one fixt Principle that runs thro' almost the whole Race of us; and that's to please ourselves. Why do'st think I got my Daughter? Why, there was something in't that pleased me. Why dost think I marry my Daughter? Why to please myself still. And what is't that pleases me? Why, my Interest; what do'st think it shou'd be? If Esop's my Son-in-Law, he'll make me a Lord: If thou art my Son-in-Law——thou'lt make me a Grandfather. Now I having more Mind to be a Lord than[Pg 279] a Grandfather, give my Daughter to him, and not to thee.
Lear. Ha, ha! A parent with guts! Here’s a young guy for you. Listen up, kid; since I'm in a really good mood, I don't mind sharing some family secrets with you. So, know this: no matter how silly or unpredictable we may seem, there’s one fixed principle that runs through almost all of us, and that’s to please ourselves. Why do you think I chose my daughter? Because there was something in it that made me happy. Why do you think I’m marrying off my daughter? To please myself again. And what is it that makes me happy? My own interest; what else could it be? If Esop is my son-in-law, he’ll make me a Lord. If you are my son-in-law—you’ll make me a grandfather. Now, since I’d rather be a Lord than a grandfather, I’m giving my daughter to him, not to you.
Oron. Then shall her Happiness weigh nothing with you?
Oron. So her happiness doesn't matter to you at all?
Lear. Not this.—If it did, I'd give her to thee, and not to him.
Lear. Not like this.—If it were, I'd give her to you, not to him.
Oron. Do you think forc'd Marriage the Way to keep Women virtuous?
Oron. Do you really think that forcing women into marriage is the way to keep them virtuous?
Lear. No; nor I don't Care whether Women are virtuous or not.
Lear. No; and I don’t care whether women are virtuous or not.
Oron. You know your Daughter loves me?
Oron. Do you know your daughter loves me?
Lear. I do so.
I really do.
Oron. What, if the Children that Esop may happen to father, shou'd chance to be begot by me?
Oron. What if the children that Esop might have ended up being fathered by me?
Lear. Why, then Esop wou'd be the Cuckold, not I.
Lear. Then Esop would be the one getting cheated on, not me.
Oron. Is that all your Care?
Oron. Is that all you care?
Lear. Yes: I speak as a Father.
Lear. Yeah: I’m speaking as a dad.
Oron. What think you of your Child's Concern in t'other World?
Oron. What do you think about your child's well-being in the other world?
Lear. Why, I think it my Child's Concern, not mine. I speak as a Father.
Lear. I believe it's my child's problem, not mine. I'm speaking as a father.
Oron. Do you remember you once gave me your Consent to wed your Daughter?
Oron. Do you remember when you gave me your permission to marry your daughter?
Lear. I did.
I did.
Oron. Why did you so?
Oron. Why did you do that?
Lear. Because you were the best Match that offer'd at that Time. I did like a Father.
Lear. Because you were the best option available at that time. I acted like a father.
Oron. Why then, Sir, I'll do like a Lover. I'll make you keep your Word, or cut your Throat.
Oron. Well then, Sir, I'll act like a lover. I'll make sure you keep your promise, or I'll do you in.
Lear. Who waits there, ha?
Lear. Who's waiting there, huh?
Enter Servants.
Enter Workers.
Lear. Seize me that Bully there. Carry him to Prison, and keep him safe.
Lear. Grab that bully over there. Take him to prison and make sure he’s safe.
[They seize him.
They capture him.
Oron. Why, you won't use me thus?
Oron. Why would you treat me this way?
Lear. Yes, but I will tho': Away with him. Sir, your most humble Servant: I wish you a good Night's Rest; and as far as a merry Dream goes, my Daughter's at your Service.
Lear. Yes, but I will though: Get him out of here. Sir, your most humble servant: I wish you a good night's sleep; and as far as a fun dream goes, my daughter is at your service.
Oron. Death and Furies!
Oron. Death and Fury!
[Exeunt Serv. with Oron.
[Exit Serv. with Oron.
Lear. [singing.] Dol, de tol dol, dol, de tol dol, Lilly Burleighre's lodg'd in a Bough.
Lear. [singing.] Dol, de tol dol, dol, de tol dol, Lilly Burleigh's settled in a Bough.
Enter a Troop of Musicians, Dancers, &c.
Enter a group of musicians, dancers, etc.
Lear. How now! What have we got here?
Lear. Hey! What do we have here?
Mus. Sir, we are a Troop of trifling Fellows, Fiddlers and Dancers, come to celebrate the Wedding of your fair Daughter, if your Honour pleases to give us Leave.
Mus. Sir, we are a group of carefree guys, musicians and dancers, here to celebrate the wedding of your lovely daughter, if you would kindly let us.
Lear. With all my Heart: But who do you take me for, Sir; ha?
Lear. With all my heart. But who do you think I am, sir? Ha?
1 Mus. I take your Honour for our noble Governor of Sysicus.
1 Mus. I acknowledge you as our esteemed Governor of Sysicus.
Lear. Governor of Sysicus! Governor of a Cheese-Cake! I'm Father-in-Law to the great Esop, Sirrah. [All bow to him.] [Aside.]——I shall be a great Man. Come, tune your Fiddles; shake your Legs; get all things ready. My Son-in-Law will be here presently——I shall be a great Man!
Lear. Governor of Sysicus! Governor of a Cheese-Cake! I'm the Father-in-Law to the great Esop, you know. [All bow to him.] [Aside.]——I'm going to be a big deal. Come on, get your instruments ready; loosen up; let's prepare everything. My Son-in-Law will be here soon——I'm going to be a big deal!
[Exit.
Exit.
1 Mus. A great Marriage, Brother! What do'st think will be the End on't?
1 Mus. A big wedding, brother! What do you think will be the outcome of it?
2 Mus. Why, I believe we shall see three Turns upon't. This old Fellow here will turn Fool; his Daughter will turn Strumpet; and his Son-in-Law will turn 'em both out of Doors. But that's nothing to thee nor me, so long as we are paid for our Fiddling. So tune away, Gentlemen.
2 Mus. I think we're going to see three changes here. This old guy will act like a fool; his daughter will become a promiscuous woman; and his son-in-law will kick them both out. But that doesn’t concern you or me, as long as we get paid for playing our music. So let’s keep playing, gentlemen.
1 Mus. D'ye hear, Trumpets? When the Bride appears, salute her with a melancholy Waft. 'Twill suit her Humour; for I guess she mayn't be over-well pleas'd.
1 Mus. Do you hear, Trumpets? When the Bride shows up, greet her with a sad fanfare. It'll match her mood; I suspect she might not be too happy.
Enter Learchus with several Friends, and a Priest.
Enter Learchus with several friends and a priest.
Lear. Gentlemen and Friends, y'are all welcome. I have sent to as many of you as our short Time wou'd give me Leave, to desire you wou'd be Witnesses of the Honour the great Esop designs ourself and Family. Hey; who attends there? Go let my Daughter know I wait for her. [Exit Servant.] 'Tis a vast Honour that is done me, Gentlemen!
Lear. Gentlemen and friends, you're all welcome. I've reached out to as many of you as our limited time allows, to ask you to witness the honor that the great Esop has planned for me and my family. Hey, who’s over there? Go tell my daughter that I’m waiting for her. [Exit Servant.] It’s a huge honor that’s being done for me, gentlemen!
2 Gent. It is, indeed, my Lord.
2 Gent. It really is, my Lord.
Lear. [Aside.] Look you there; if they don't call me my Lord already——I shall be a great Man!
Lear. [Aside.] Look at that; if they're already referring to me as my Lord——I'm going to be a big deal!
Enter Euphronia weeping, and leaning upon Doris, both in deep Mourning.
Enter Euphronia crying and leaning on Doris, both in deep sorrow.
Lear. How now! What's here! All in deep Mourning! Here's a provoking Baggage for you!
Lear. What's going on here? Everyone's in deep mourning! Here’s an annoying piece of work for you!
[The Trumpets sound a melancholy Air till Esop appears; and then the Violins and Hautboys strike up a Lancashire Hornpipe.
[The trumpets play a sad tune until Aesop's Fables shows up; and then the violins and oboes start playing a Lancs hornpipe.
Enter Esop in a gay foppish Dress, Long Peruke, &c. a gaudy Equipage of Pages and Footmen, all enter in an airy brisk Manner.
Enter Aesop's Fables in a stylish, flamboyant outfit, with long hair, etc., accompanied by a flashy entourage of pages and servants, all arriving in a lively, cheerful manner.
Esop. in an affected Tone to Euphronia.] Gad take my Soul, Ma'am, I hope I shall please you now——Gentlemen all, I'm your humble Servant. I'm going to be a very happy Man, you see. [To Euph.] When the Heat of the Ceremony's over, if your Ladyship pleases, Ma'am, I'll wait upon you to take the Air in the Park. Hey, Page; let there be a Coach and six Horses ready instantly. [Observing her Dress.]——I vow to Gad, Ma'am, I was so taken up with my good Fortune, I did not observe the extreme Fancy of your Ladyship's Wedding-Clothes——Infinitely pretty! as I hope to be sav'd; a World of Variety, and not at all gaudy.——[To Lear.] My dear Father-in-Law, embrace me.
Esop. in an affected tone to Euphronia.] I swear, Ma'am, I hope to impress you now——Gentlemen, I'm your humble servant. I'm about to be a very happy man, as you can see. [To Euphoric.] Once the ceremony is over, if you don't mind, Ma'am, I'd love to accompany you for a walk in the park. Hey, Page; get a coach and six horses ready right away. [Noticing her dress.]——I swear, Ma'am, I was so caught up in my good fortune that I didn't notice how beautiful your wedding dress is——Absolutely stunning! I hope to be saved; such a variety, and not at all overdone.——[To Lear.] My dear father-in-law, give me a hug.
Lear. Your Lordship does me too much Honour. [Aside.]——I shall be a great Man!
Lear. Your Lordship is giving me too much praise. [Aside.]——I’m going to be a big deal!
Esop. Come, Gentlemen, are all things ready? Where's the Priest?
Esop. Come on, guys, is everything ready? Where's the priest?
Priest. Here, my noble Lord.
Priest. Here, my lord.
Esop. Most Reverend——will you please to say Grace that I may fall to, for I am very hungry, and here's very good Meat. But where's my Rival all this while? The least we can do, is to invite him to the Wedding.
Esop. Most Reverend—could you please say Grace so I can eat? I'm really hungry, and the food looks great. But where's my Rival during all this? The least we can do is invite him to the Wedding.
Lear. My Lord, he's in Prison.
My Lord, he's in jail.
Esop. In Prison! How so?
Esop. In jail! How come?
Lear. He wou'd have murder'd me.
Lear. He would have killed me.
Esop. A bloody Fellow! But let's see him, however. Send for him quickly. Ha! Governor——that handsome Daughter of yours, I will so mumble her——
Esop. A violent guy! But let's check him out anyway. Send for him fast. Ha! Governor—your beautiful daughter, I'm going to make her speechless—
Lear. I shall be a great Man!
Lear. I will be a great man!
Enter Oronces pinion'd and guarded.
Enter Oronces with wings and guards.
Esop. O ho, here's my Rival! Then we have all we want. Advance, Sir, if you please. I desire you'll do me the Favour to be a Witness to my Marriage, lest one of these Days you shou'd take a fancy to dispute my Wife with me.
Esop. Oh look, there's my rival! Now we have everything we need. Step forward, sir, if you don't mind. I'd appreciate it if you could witness my marriage, just in case one of these days you get the idea to contest my wife with me.
Oron. Do you then send for me to insult me? 'Tis base in you.
Oron. Are you calling me here to insult me? That's low of you.
Esop. I have no Time now to throw away upon Points of Generosity; I have hotter Work upon my Hands. Come, Priest, advance.
Esop. I don't have time to waste on notions of generosity right now; I've got more urgent matters to deal with. Come on, Priest, step forward.
Lear. Pray, hold him fast there; he has the Devil and all of Mischief in's Eye.
Lear. Please, hold him tight; he’s got the Devil and all sorts of trouble in his eyes.
Esop. [To Euph.] Will your Ladyship please, Ma'am, to give me your fair Hand——Hey-dey!
Esop. [To Euphoria.] Would you be so kind, Ma'am, to give me your lovely hand——Hey-dey!
[She refuses her Hand.
She declines her proposal.
Lear. I'll give it you, my noble Lord, if she won't. [Aside.] A stubborn, self-will'd, stiff-neck'd Strumpet.
Lear. I'll give it to you, my noble Lord, if she won’t. [Aside.] A stubborn, willful, inflexible Strumpet.
[Learchus holds out her Hand to Esop, who takes it; Oronces stands on Esop's left Hand, and the Priest before 'em.
[Learchus extends her hand to Esop, who takes it; Oronces stands to the left of Esop, and the Priest stands in front of them.]
Esop. Let my Rival stand next me: Of all Men, I'd have him be satisfy'd.
Esop. Let my rival stand beside me: Of all people, I want him to be satisfied.
Oron. Barbarous, inhuman Monster!
Oron. Brutal, inhumane monster!
Esop. Now, Priest, do thy Office.
Esop. Now, Priest, do your thing.
[Flourish with the Trumpets.
Flourish with the trumpets.
That he should be your husband and she should be your wife, May Heaven bring you into its Care,
May Jupiter look kindly down, }
Wear the Crown of Contentment on your Heads! }
And may his divinity never scowl }
To this happy couple.
[Flourish again of Trumpets.
Trumpets flourish again.
[As the Priest pronounces the last Line, Esop joins Oronces and Euphronia's Hands.
As the Priest says the final line, Esop takes the hands of Oranges and Euphronia.
Oron. O happy Change! Blessings on Blessings wait on the generous Esop!
Oron. Oh, joyful transformation! Blessings upon blessings come to the generous Esop!
And if you believe there's something I deserve, }
Pay it in shared love and loyalty. }
If in the current journey of my Soul,
Which you have caused through your generosity,
My eager tongue is restrained from speaking. The thoughts that come from a truly grateful heart.
But the one who is such a tyrant over his children, To give up their peace for his ambition,
Is only capable of governing himself.
I will ensure this City is influenced. By more humanity than exists in you.
I shouldn't dare to ask for any more favors:
But excuse me for trying to imitate Heaven and you,
I easily forgive my elderly father,
And ask that Esop would forgive him as well.
[Kneeling to him.
Kneeling to him.
Esop. The Injury he wou'd have done to you was great indeed: But 'twas a Blessing he design'd for me. If, therefore, you can pardon him, I may. [To Lear.] Your injur'd Daughter, Sir, has on her Knees intreated for her cruel, barbarous Father; and by her Goodness has obtain'd her Suit. If, in the Remnant of your Days, you can find out some way to recompense her, do it, that Men and Gods may pardon you, as she and I have done. But, let me see, I have one Quarrel still to make up. Where's my old Friend Doris?
Esop. The harm he intended to cause you was indeed significant: But it was a blessing he meant for me. So, if you can forgive him, I might be able to as well. [To Lear.] Your wronged daughter, sir, has begged on her knees for her cruel, heartless father; and through her kindness, she has gotten her wish. If, in the time you have left, you can find a way to make it up to her, do it, so that both men and gods may forgive you, just as she and I have. But wait, I still have one more issue to resolve. Where's my old friend Doris?
Dor. She's here, Sir, at your Service; and as much your Friend as ever; true to her Principles, and firm to her Mistress. But she has a much better Opinion of you now than she had half an Hour ago.
Dor. She's here, Sir, at your service; still your friend as always; loyal to her principles and devoted to her mistress. But she thinks a lot more of you now than she did half an hour ago.
Esop. She has reason: For my Soul appear'd then as deform'd as my Body. But I hope now, one may so far mediate for t'other, that, provided I don't make Love,[Pg 284] the Women won't quarrel with me; for they are worse Enemies even than they are Friends. Come, Gentlemen, I'll humour my Dress a little longer, and share with you in the Diversions these boon Companions have prepar'd us. Let's take our Places, and see how they can divert us.
Esop. She has a point: My soul felt just as twisted as my body did back then. But I hope now, one can balance the other, so as long as I don't flirt, [Pg 284] the women won't argue with me; because they can be worse enemies than they are friends. Come on, gentlemen, I'll stay in my outfit a bit longer and join you in the fun these good friends have planned for us. Let's find our seats and see how they can entertain us.
Esop leads the Bride to her Place. All being seated, there's a short Concert of Hautboys, Trumpets, &c. After which a Dance between an old Man and a young Woman, who shuns him still at he comes near her. At last he stops, and begins this Dialogue, which they sing together.
Esop takes the Bride to her spot. Once everyone is seated, there’s a brief performance featuring oboes, trumpets, etc. After that, an old Man and a young Woman dance, with her avoiding him as he tries to approach. Finally, he pauses and starts this Dialogue, which they sing together.
What I desire in Youth and Fire,
To my arms, my love, my joy!
Why so distant, and why so shy?
You're cold, and so am I.
Young Energy in Women's Charms,
Glowing in my old arms, Would melt it down again into a flood.
To make a Virgin aware There's fire in the stone, Some strong person must bravely deliver the blow.
You'll see that I'm a man, and still confident;
You’ll see I can still hit hard, even though I'm old:
I just need your help to lift my arms.
Enter a Youth, who seizes on the young Woman. [Pg 285]
Enter a young man, who grabs the young woman. [Pg 285]
Retire, old age:
——Winter, be gone:
Look, the vibrant Spring is joyfully arriving. Here, take this Torch to light a Virgin's Fire!
To my Arms, my Love, my Joy;
When women get what they want,
They're neither distant nor shy.
[She takes him in her Arms.
[She takes him in her arms.]
The Song and Dances ended, Esop takes Euphronia and Oronces by the Hands, leading them forwards.
The song and dances finished, Esop takes Euphony and Oronces by the hands, leading them forward.
Esop. By this Time, my young eager Couple, 'tis probable you wou'd be glad to be alone; perhaps you'll have a Mind to go to Bed, even without your Supper; for Brides and Bridegrooms eat little on their Wedding-Night. But since, if Matrimony were worn as it ought to be, it wou'd, perhaps, sit easier about us than it usually does, I'll give you one Word of Counsel, and so I shall release you. When one is out of Humour, let the other be dumb. Let your Diversions be such, as both may have a Share in 'em. Never let Familiarity exclude Respect. Be clean in your Clothes, but nicely so in your Persons. Eat at one Table, lie in one Room, but sleep in two Beds: I'll tell the Ladies why:
Esop. By now, my eager young couple, you’re probably ready to be alone; maybe you even want to go to bed without dinner because brides and grooms don't eat much on their wedding night. But since if marriage were embraced as it should be, it would probably feel more comfortable than it usually does, let me offer you a piece of advice, and then I’ll let you go. When one of you is in a bad mood, let the other be quiet. Choose activities you can both enjoy. Never let familiarity replace respect. Keep your clothes clean, and make sure you take care of yourselves too. Eat at the same table, share a room, but sleep in separate beds: I’ll explain to the ladies why:
[Pg 287] When boys and girls play sports, }
And kiss and play around all day; }
An enthusiastic Sparrow and his Mate, We were sitting in a tree, listening to the chirping. }
Full of Love—and full of Talk. }
They talked about nothing but their fires, Of intense passions and strong wants,
How true and loyal they would be;
Of eternal consistency; About this and that, and endless joys,
And a thousand more toys like these:
Only thing they caught,
Was that their lives would be so short,
They couldn't finish half of their game. Before their days were over. But as they wander from branch to branch, They finally did it In a rush, On a twig coated with birdlime,
*Need for a softer bed*
To perform a love scene.
It turned out to be fatal for both of their fires. Even though they eventually broke free, }
And stopped the schoolboy from getting his prize, }
Which made him cry all day long, The Bridegroom, in the quick conflict, Was so tightly bonded to his beloved Wife,
That even though he used all his skill, He soon realized it was pointless, To inflict more pain on himself, They must never part again. A dark shadow covered his brow; He found himself—I don't know how: He looked like husbands often do. Wherever he went, he still felt her presence, She often kissed him against his will: Overseas, at home, at rest and leisure,
With her favors, she overwhelmed her Lord.
Often he turned his head away, }
And rarely had anything to say, }
Which completely ruined her play, For she was better equipped. However, in the end, her resources were depleted, (For Female Fires, it might sometimes be
Subject to Mortality;)
So they sit back to back, sulking as they regret. But the silent scene didn't last long, The Lady pretended
The lack of love was right in front of him; For her part, she still had in store More than enough for him and twenty others, }
Which couldn't be argued. He answered her in simple words, (Because sparrows are just poorly behaved birds)
That he had already enjoyed He had so much that he was really overwhelmed. Which really ticked her off, That after some good, heartfelt prayers, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ A push, and some bitter tears, They collapsed together by the Ears, }
And never were fond again.
ESOP.
Employee Stock Ownership Plan.
PART II.
Enter Players.
Join Players.
Esop. Well, good People, who are all you?
Esop. Well, good people, who are all of you?
Omnes. Sir, we are Players.
Everyone. Sir, we are Players.
Esop. Players! What Players?
Esop. Players! Which Players?
Play. Why, Sir, we are Stage-Players, that's our Calling: Tho' we play upon other Things too; some of us play upon the Fiddle; some play upon the Flute; we play upon one another; we play upon the Town; and we play upon the Patentees.
Play. Well, Sir, we are stage actors, that's our job: Though we also engage in other things; some of us play the fiddle; some play the flute; we play off each other; we play with the town; and we play the patent holders.
Esop. Patentees! Pr'ythee, what are they?
Esop. Patentees! Please, what are they?
Play. Why, they are, Sir——Sir, they are——'Cod I don't know what they are——Fish or Flesh——Masters or Servants——Sometimes one——Sometimes t'other, I think——Just as we are in the Mood.
Play. Why, they are, Sir——Sir, they are——'God I don't know what they are——Fish or Flesh——Masters or Servants——Sometimes one——Sometimes the other, I think——Just as we are in the Mood.
Esop. Why, I thought they had a lawful Authority over you.
Esop. I thought they had legal authority over you.
Play. Lawful Authority, Sir!—--Sir, we are free-born Englishmen, we care not for Law nor Authority neither, when we are out of Humour.
Play. Lawful Authority, Sir!—--Sir, we are free-born Englishmen, we don't care about Law or Authority either, when we're in a bad mood.
Esop. But I think they pretended at least to an Authority over you; pray, upon what Foundation was it built?
Esop. But I think they at least acted like they had some authority over you; please, what was it based on?
Play. Upon a rotten one——if you'll believe us. Sir, I'll tell you what the Projectors did: They imbark'd twenty thousand Pound upon a leaky Vessel——She was built at Whitehall; I think they call'd her——the Patent——ay, the Patent: Her Keel was made of a Broad Seal——and the King gave 'em a white Staff for their Main-Mast. She was a pretty light Frigate to[Pg 289] look upon, indeed: They spar'd nothing to set her off; they gilded her, and painted her, and rigg'd, and gunn'd her: And so sent her a Privateering. But the first Storm that blew, down went the Mast, ashore went the Ship—Crack, says the Keel; Mercy, cry'd the Pilot; but the Wind was so high, his Pray'rs cou'd not be heard—so they split upon a Rock——that lay hid under a Petticoat.
Play. On a rotten one—if you believe us. So, let me tell you what the Projectors did: They invested twenty thousand pounds in a leaky vessel—she was built at Whitehall; I think they called her—the Patent—yeah, the Patent: Her keel was made of a broad seal—and the King gave them a white staff for their main mast. She was quite a nice frigate to[Pg 289] look at, really: They spared no expense to deck her out; they gilded her, painted her, rigged her, and armed her: And then sent her out as a privateer. But the first storm that hit, down went the mast, and ashore went the ship—crack, said the keel; mercy, cried the pilot; but the wind was so strong, his prayers couldn't be heard—so they crashed into a rock—hidden under a petticoat.
Esop. A very sad Story, this! But what became of the Ship's Company?
Esop. A really sad story, isn't it? But what happened to the crew?
Play. Why, Sir, your humble Servants here, who were the Officers, and the best of the Sailors——(little Ben amongst the rest) seiz'd on a small Bark that lay to our Hand, and away we put to Sea again. To say the truth, we were better mann'd than rigg'd, and Ammunition was plaguy scarce amongst us.——However, a cruising we went, and some petty small Prizes we have made; but the Blessing of Heaven not being among us——or how the Devil 'tis, I cannot tell; but we are not rich.
Play. Well, Sir, your humble servants here, who were the officers and the best of the sailors—(little Ben among them)—seized a small boat that was nearby, and off we went to sea again. To be honest, we were better staffed than equipped, and ammunition was pretty scarce for us. However, we went out cruising and managed to capture a few small prizes, but not having the blessing of heaven on our side—or how the heck that happened, I can't say—means we're not rich.
Esop. Well, but what became of the rest of the Crew?
Esop. So, what happened to the rest of the Crew?
Play. Why, Sir, as for the Scoundrels, they, poor Dogs, stuck by the Wreck. The Captain gave them Bread and Cheese, and good Words——He told them, if they wou'd patch her up, and venture t'other Cruise, he'd prefer 'em all; so to work they went, and to Sea they got her.
Play. Well, Sir, as for the Scoundrels, they, poor guys, were left by the Wreck. The Captain gave them bread and cheese, and kind words—He told them if they would fix her up and take another trip, he’d prefer them all; so they got to work, and they got her to sea.
Esop. I hope he kept his Word with 'em.
Esop. I hope he kept his promise to them.
Play. That he did; he made the Boatswain's Mate Lieutenant; he made the Cook Doctor: He was forc'd to be Purser and Pilot, and Gunner himself; and the Swabber took Orders to be Chaplain.
Play. He certainly did; he promoted the Boatswain's Mate to Lieutenant; he made the Cook a Doctor: He had to be the Purser, Pilot, and Gunner himself; and the Swabber became ordained to be the Chaplain.
Esop. But with such unskilful Officers, I'm afraid, they'll hardly keep above Water long.
Esop. But with such unskilled leaders, I'm worried they won’t be able to stay afloat for long.
Play. Why truly, Sir, we care not how soon they are under: But curst Folks thrive, I think. I know nothing else that makes 'em swim. I'm sure, by the Rules of Navigation, they ought to have over-set long since; for they carry a great deal of Sail, and have very little Ballast.
Play. Honestly, Sir, we don't really care how quickly they go down. But it seems that cursed people manage to thrive. I can't think of anything else that keeps them afloat. I'm sure, by the rules of sailing, they should have capsized a long time ago because they have a lot of sail and very little ballast.
Esop. I'm afraid you ruin one another. I fancy if you[Pg 290] were all in a Ship together again, you'd have less Work, and more Profit.
Esop. I'm worried that you guys are hurting each other. I think if you[Pg 290] were all on a ship together again, you'd have less to do, and you'd benefit more.
Play. Ah, Sir——we are resolv'd we'll never sail under Captain Patentee again.
Play. Oh, Sir—we've decided we will never sail under Captain Patentee again.
Esop. Pr'ythee, why so?
Aesop. Please, why so?
Play. Sir, he has us'd us like Dogs.
Play. Sir, he has treated us like dogs.
Wom.——And Bitches too, Sir.
Women.——And females too, Sir.
Esop. I'm sorry to hear that; pray, how was't he treated you?
Esop. I'm sorry to hear that; tell me, how was he treating you?
Play. Sir, 'tis impossible to tell; he us'd us like the English at Amboyna——
Play. Sir, it’s impossible to say; he treated us like the English at Amboyna——
Esop. But I wou'd know some Particulars: Tell me what 'twas he did to you?
Esop. But I would like to know some details: Can you tell me what he did to you?
Play. What he did, Sir?——Why, he did in the first Place, Sir——In the first Place, Sir, he did——I'cod I don't know what he did——Can you tell, Wife?
Play. What did he do, sir?—Well, first of all, sir—first of all, sir, he did—I swear I don’t know what he did—Can you tell me, wife?
Wom. Yes, marry can I; and a burning Shame it was too.
Wom. Yes, I can get married; and it was a deep shame too.
Play. O, I remember now, Sir, he wou'd not give us Plums enough in our Pudding.
Play. Oh, I remember now, Sir, he wouldn't give us enough plums in our pudding.
Esop. That indeed was very hard; but did he give you as many as he promis'd you?
Esop. That was really tough; but did he give you as many as he promised?
Play. Yes, and more; but what of all that? We had not as many as we had a mind to——
Play. Yes, and even more; but what does it matter? We didn't have as many as we wanted——
1 Wom. Sir, my Husband tells you Truth—
1 Wom. Sir, my husband is telling you the truth—
Esop. I believe he may; but what other Wrongs did he do you?
Esop. I think he might; but what other wrongs did he do to you?
1 Wom. Why, Sir, he did not treat me with Respect; 'twas not one Day an three he would so much as bid me good-morrow—
1 Wom. Why, Sir, he didn’t treat me with respect; for not even one day in three would he say good morning to me—
2 Wom. Sir, he invited me to Dinner, and never drank my Health.
2 Wom. Sir, he invited me to dinner and never raised a glass to my health.
1 Wom. Then he cock'd his Hat at Mrs. Pert.
1 Wom. Then he tipped his hat at Mrs. Pert.
2 Wom. Yes, and told Mrs. Slippery he had as good a Face as she had.
2 Wom. Yeah, and told Mrs. Slippery he had just as good a face as she did.
Esop. Why, these were insufferable Abuses—
Esop. These were unbearable abuses—
2 Play. Then, Sir, I did but come to him one Day—and tell him I wanted fifty Pound, and what do you think he did by me, Sir?—Sir, he turn'd round upon his Heel like a Top—
2 Play. Then, Sir, I just approached him one day and told him I needed fifty pounds, and what do you think he did?—Sir, he spun around on his heel like a top—
1 Play. But that was nothing to the Affront he put[Pg 291] upon me, Sir. I came to him, and in very civil words, as I thought, desir'd him to double my Pay: Sir, wou'd you believe it? He had the Barbarity to ask me if I intended to double my Work; and because I told him no, Sir—he did use me, good Lord, how he did use me!
1 Play. But that was nothing compared to the insult he gave[Pg 291] me, Sir. I approached him and, in what I thought were very polite words, asked him to double my pay. Sir, would you believe it? He had the nerve to ask if I planned to double my work, and because I said no, Sir—he treated me, good Lord, how he treated me!
Esop. Pr'ythee how?
Aesop. Please, how?
1 Play. Why, he walk'd off, and answered me never a Word.
1 Play. He just walked away and didn't say a word to me.
Esop. How had you Patience?
Esop. How did you have patience?
1 Play. Sir, I had not Patience. I sent him a Challenge; and what do you think his answer was?—He sent me Word I was a scoundrel Son of a Whore, and he wou'd only fight me by Proxy——
1 Play. Sir, I couldn't wait. I challenged him; and guess what he said?—He called me a filthy son of a bitch and said he would only fight me through someone else.
Esop. Very fine!
Esop. Awesome!
1 Play. At this rate, Sir, were we poor Dogs us'd—till one frosty Morning down he comes amongst us—and very roundly tells us——That for the future, no Purchase, no Pay. They that wou'd not work, shou'd not eat——Sir, we at first ask'd him coolly and civilly——Why? His answer was, Because the Town wanted Diversion, and he wanted Money——Our Reply to this, Sir, was very short; but I think to the purpose.
1 Play. At this rate, Sir, if we were poor dogs used to it—then one frosty morning, he comes down to us and bluntly tells us—that from now on, no work means no pay. Those who wouldn’t work shouldn’t eat—Sir, we initially asked him calmly and politely—Why? His answer was, because the town needed entertainment, and he wanted money—Our reply to this, Sir, was very brief, but I think it was to the point.
Esop. What was it?
Esop. What was that?
1 Play. It was, Sir, that so we wallow'd in Plenty and Ease——the Town and he might be damn'd——This, Sir, is the true History of our Separation——and we hope you'll stand our Friend——
1 Play. It was, Sir, that we indulged in abundance and comfort—the Town and he could go to hell—This, Sir, is the real story of our separation—and we hope you'll support us—
Esop. I'll tell you what, Sirs——
Esop. Let me tell you, guys—
In full control, With Whip in Hand, They'd run fast The cheerful Chase, And their game rarely seemed to miss. But eventually they had the opportunity to find
*A Huntsman of a gentler Kind,*
They soon noticed the reins were loose; The Word spread quickly through the Pack—— They all shouted for Liberty; *This joyful moment, we are free;*
We'll explore the woods, Like Nymphs and Deities,
And use our voices to praise rebellion.
With that, old Jowler trots away,
And Bowman targets his prey; Thunder roared through the woods, And swore he'd burst his guts with blood;
Venus walked across the Plain, With unlimited hopes for unlimited gain;
——Juno, she slipped down the hedge,
But left her sacred Word as a Pledge,
That's everything she picked up along the way——
To the public Treasury; And they would be right to count on her; For Juno was a Queen Bee. In short, they all hoped to see. A heavenly crop of rebellion. And so to harvesting fell. But soon they discovered,
It was the Devil who had tilled the ground,
And brought the Seed from Hell.
The Pack split, nothing thrived: *Discord seized the Throne of Love.*
Want and Misery both endure; Everyone works hard, yet everyone ends up broke. When they had worked all day, And arrived at night to look at their target,
Often, unfortunately, they had fared so poorly,
That group went to bed without dinner. Finally, they all sat in council, During a very fair discussion,
Finally agreed, That slavery is easy and abundant, When Hounds were just over twenty, Was a much better fate, It was better to work and go without food.
1 Play. Well, Sir——and what did they do then?
1 Play. So, Sir—what happened next?
Esop. Why they all went home to their Kennel again. If you think they did wisely, you'll do well to follow their Example.
Esop. Why they all went home to their kennel again. If you think they made a smart choice, you should do well to follow their example.
[Exit Esop.
Exit Esop.
1 Play. Well, Beagles, what think you of the little Gentleman's Advice?
1 Play. So, Beagles, what do you think of the little guy's advice?
2 Wom. I think he's a little ugly Philosopher, and talks like a Fool.
2 Wom. I think he's a bit of an ugly philosopher and talks like an idiot.
1 Play. Ay, why there 'tis now! If he had been a tall Handsome Blockhead, he had talk'd like a wise Man.
1 Play. Ah, there it is now! If he had been a tall, good-looking fool, he would have talked like a wise man.
2 Wom. Why, do you think, Mr. Jowler, that we'll ever join again?
2 Wom. Why do you think, Mr. Jowler, that we’ll ever get back together?
1 Play. I do think, sweet Mrs. Juno, that if we do not join again, you must be a little freer of your Carcase than you are, or you must bring down your Pride to a Serge Petticoat.
1 Play. I really think, dear Mrs. Juno, that if we don't get together again, you need to be a bit less attached to your status than you are, or you should lower your pride to a simple skirt.
1 Wom. And do you think, Sir, after the Affronts I have receiv'd, the Patent and I can ever be Friends?
1 Wom. And do you really think, Sir, that after all the insults I've received, the Patent and I can ever get along?
1 Play. I do think, Madam, that if my interest had not been more affronted than your Face, the Patent and you had never been Foes.
1 Play. I really believe, Madam, that if my feelings hadn't been hurt more than your expression, the Patent and you would never have been enemies.
1 Wom. And so, Sir, then you have serious Thoughts of a Reconciliation!
1 Wom. So, Sir, you're really considering a reconciliation!
1 Play. Madam, I do believe I may.
1 Play. Ma'am, I think I can.
1 Wom. Why then, Sir, give me Leave to tell you, that—make it my Interest, and I'll have serious Thoughts on't too.
1 Wom. So, Sir, if you let me, I'll tell you that—if it benefits me, I'll think seriously about it too.
2 Wom. Nay, if you are thereabouts, I desire to come into the Treaty.
2 Wom. No, if you’re nearby, I’d like to join the conversation.
3 Play. And I.
3 Play. And me.
4 Play. And I.
4 Play. And I.
1 Play. And I. No separate Peace. None of your Turin Play, I beseech you.
1 Play. And I. No separate Peace. None of your Turin Play, please.
1 Play. Why then, since you are all so Christianly dispos'd——I think we had best adjourn immediately to our Council-Chamber, choose some potent Prince for Mediator and Guarantee——fix upon the Place of Treaty, dispatch our Plenipo's, and whip up the Peace like an Oyster. For, under the Rose, my Confederates, here[Pg 294] is such a damn'd Discount upon our Bills, I'm afraid, if we stand it out another Campaign, we must live upon slender Subsistence.
1 Play. So then, since you all seem so committed to being Christian— I think we should immediately head to our Council Chamber, pick a strong Prince to be our Mediator and Guarantee— decide on the location for the Treaty, send out our envoys, and wrap up the Peace like it's nothing. Because, honestly, my friends, here[Pg 294] there's such a huge drop in the value of our bills that if we drag this on for another Campaign, we’ll have to get by on very little.
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
Enter Esop; and a Country Gentleman, who walks to and fro, looking angrily upon Esop.
Enter Aesop's Fables; and a Country Gentleman, who walks back and forth, looking angrily at Aesop's Fables.
Esop. Have you any Business with me, Sir?
Esop. Do you have any business with me, sir?
Gent.—I can't tell whether I have or not.
Gent.—I really can’t say if I have or not.
Esop. You seem disturb'd, Sir?
Esop. You seem upset, Sir?
Gent. I'm always so at the Sight of a Courtier.
Gent. I always feel so overwhelmed by the presence of a courtier.
Esop. Pray what may it be, that gives you so great an Antipathy to 'em?
Esop. What could it be that makes you dislike them so much?
Gent. My Profession.
Gent. My Job.
Esop. What's that?
Esop? What's that?
Gent. Honesty.
Gent. Truthfulness.
Esop. 'Tis an honest Profession. I hope, Sir, for the general Good of Mankind, you are in some public Employment?
Esop. It's an honest profession. I hope, sir, for the overall good of humanity, you're in some public position?
Gent. So I am, Sir——no Thanks to the Court.
Gent. So I am, Sir—no thanks to the court.
Esop. You are then, I suppose, employ'd by——
Esop. So, I guess you’re working for——
Gent. My Country.
Gent. My Country.
Esop. Who have made you——
Esop. Who made you——
Gent. A Senator.
Gent. A Senator.
Esop. Sir, I reverence you.
Esop. Sir, I respect you.
[Bowing.
Bowing.
Gent. Sir, you may reverence as low as you please; but I shall spare none of you. Sir, I am intrusted by my Country with above ten Thousand of their Grievances, and, in order to redress them, my Design is to hang ten thousand Courtiers.
Gent. Sir, you can bow down as much as you like; but I won't hold back on any of you. Sir, I have been given the responsibility by my Country to address over ten thousand of their complaints, and to fix them, my plan is to hang ten thousand Courtiers.
Esop. Why, 'tis making short Work, I must confess; but are you sure, Sir, that wou'd do't?
Esop. Well, it definitely makes things easier, I have to admit; but are you sure, sir, that you would do it?
Gent. Sure,——Ay, sure.
Sure, yeah, sure.
Esop. How do you know?
Esop. How do you know?
Gent. Why, the whole Country says so, and I at the Head of 'em. Now let me see who dares say the contrary.
Gent. Well, the entire country says that, and I'm at the forefront of them. Now let's see who has the guts to say otherwise.
Esop. Not I, truly. But, Sir, if you won't take it ill, I'll ask you a Question or two.
Esop. Not me, really. But, Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a question or two.
Gent. Sir, I shall take ill what I please. And if you, or e'er a Courtier of you all pretend the contrary, I say, 'tis a Breach of Privilege——Now put your Question, if you think fit.
Gent. Sir, I will take offense at whatever I choose. And if you, or any of you Courtiers, claim otherwise, I say that’s a violation of my rights——Now ask your question, if you think it’s appropriate.
Esop. Why then, Sir, with all due regard to your Character, and your Privilege too, I wou'd be glad to know what you chiefly complain of?
Esop. So, Sir, with all due respect to your character and your privilege, I'd like to know what you are mainly complaining about?
Esop. Why truly, Sir, I do confess these are Grievances very well worth your redressing. And I perceive you are truly sensible of our Diseases, but I'm afraid you are a little out in the Cure.
Esop. Honestly, Sir, I admit these are issues very much worth your attention. And I can see you really understand our problems, but I worry you might be a bit off in how to fix them.
Gent. Sir, I perceive you take me for a Country-Physician: but you shall find, Sir, that a Country-Doctor is able to deal with a Court-Quack; and to shew you that I do understand something of the State of the Body-Politic, I will tell you, Sir, that I have heard a wise Man say, the Court is the Stomach of the Nation, in which, if the Business be not thoroughly digested, the whole Carcase will be in Disorder. Now, Sir, I do find by the Feebleness of the Members, and the Vapours that fly into the Head, that this same Stomach is full of indigestions, which must be remov'd: And therefore, Sir, I am come Post to Town with my Head full of Crocus Metallorum, and design to give the Court a Vomit.
Gent. Sir, I see you think I’m just a country doctor: but you’ll realize, Sir, that a country physician can handle a court quack; and to show you that I have some understanding of the state of our political affairs, let me tell you, Sir, that I’ve heard a wise person say that the court is the stomach of the nation, and if the business isn’t properly digested, the entire body will be in chaos. Now, Sir, I can tell from the weakness of the members and the disturbances affecting the mind that this stomach is full of indigestion, which needs to be treated. That’s why, Sir, I’ve rushed to town with my head full of Crocus Metallorum and plan to give the court a good purge.
Esop. Sir, the Physic you mention, tho' necessary sometimes, is of too violent a Nature to be us'd without a great deal of Caution. I'm afraid, you are a little too rash in your Prescriptions. Is it not possible you may be mistaken in the Cause of the Distemper?
Esop. Sir, the medicine you mention, while sometimes necessary, is too harsh to be used without a lot of caution. I’m worried you might be a bit too hasty in your prescriptions. Is it possible that you could be mistaken about the cause of the illness?
Gent. Sir, I do not think it possible I shou'd be mistaken in any thing.
Gent. Sir, I don’t think it’s possible for me to be wrong about anything.
Esop. Have you been long a Senator?
Esop. Have you been a Senator for a long time?
Gent. No, Sir.
No, sir.
Esop. Have you been much about Town?
Esop. Have you been around town a lot?
Gent. No, Sir.
No, Sir.
Esop. Have you convers'd much with Men of Business?
Esop. Have you talked a lot with business people?
Gent. No, Sir.
No, Sir.
Esop. Have you made any serious Enquiry into the present Disorders of the Nation?
Esop. Have you looked into the current issues facing the country?
Gent. No, Sir.
No, Sir.
Esop. Have you ever heard what the Men now employ'd in Business have to say for themselves?
Esop. Have you ever listened to what the guys working in business have to say for themselves?
Gent. No, Sir.
No, Sir.
Esop. How then do you know they deserve to be punish'd for the present Disorders in your Affairs?
Esop. So how do you know they deserve to be punished for the current issues in your affairs?
Gent. I'll tell you how I know.
Sure. I'll explain how I know.
Esop. I would be glad to hear.
Esop. I would love to hear it.
Gent. Why, I know by this——I know it, I say, by this——that I'm sure on't——And to give you Demonstration that I'm sure on't, there is not one Man in a good Post in the Nation—but I'd give my Vote to hang him: Now I hope you are convinc'd.
Gent. I know this for a fact—I really believe it—And to show you that I believe it, there isn’t a single man in a good position in the country that I wouldn't vote to hang: Now I hope you’re convinced.
Esop. As for Example: The first Minister of State, why wou'd you hang him?
Esop. For example: Why would you hang the first Minister of State?
Gent. Because he gives bad Counsel.
Gent. Because he gives bad advice.
Esop. How do you know?
Esop. How do you figure?
Gent. Why, they say so.
Gent. They say that.
Esop. And who would you put in his Room?
Esop. Who would you put in his room?
Gent. One that would give better.
Gent. One who would do better.
Esop. Who's that?
Aesop. Who's that?
Gent. Myself.
Gent. Me.
Esop. The Secretary of State, why wou'd you hang him?
Esop. Secretary of State, why would you hang him?
Gent. Because he has not good Intelligence.
Gent. Because he doesn't have good judgment.
Esop. How do you know?
Esop. How do you know?
Gent. I have heard so.
Yep, I’ve heard that too.
Esop. And who would you put in his Place?
Esop. And who would you put in his place?
Gent. My Father.
Gent. My Dad.
Esop. The Treasurer, why would you hang him?
Esop. Treasurer, why would you want to hang him?
Gent. Because he does not understand his Business.
Gent. Because he doesn't understand his job.
Esop. How do you know?
Esop. How do you know?
Gent. I dreamt so.
I dreamed so.
Esop. And who would you have succeed him?
Esop. And who do you want to take his place?
Gent. My Uncle.
Gent. My Uncle.
Esop. The Admiral, why would you hang him?
Esop. The Admiral, why would you execute him?
Gent. Because he has not destroy'd the Enemies Ships.
Gent. Because he hasn’t destroyed the enemy's ships.
Esop. How do you know he could do it?
Esop. How do you know he was able to do it?
Gent. Why, I believe so.
Sure, I think so.
Esop. And who would you have command in his Stead?
Esop. And who would you have in charge instead?
Gent. My Brother.
Gent. My Bro.
Esop. And the General, why would you hang him?
Esop. So, General, why would you hang him?
Gent. Because he took ne'er a Town last Campaign.
Gent. Because he didn’t capture a single town last campaign.
Esop. And how you do know it was in his Power?
Esop. And how do you know it was in his power?
Gent. Why, I don't care a Souss whether 'twas in his power or not. But I have a Son at home, a brave chopping Lad; he has been Captain in the Militia these twelve Months, and I'd be glad to see him in his Place. What do ye stare for, Sir? Ha! I'gad I tell you he'd scour all to the Devil. He's none of your Fencers, none of your sa-sa Men. Numps is downright, that's his Play. You may see his Courage in his Face: He has a Pair of Cheeks like two Bladders, a Nose as flat as your Hand, and a Forehead like a Bull.
Gent. I really don’t care if it was within his power or not. But I have a son at home, a brave young man; he’s been a Captain in the Militia for the past year, and I’d love to see him in action. What are you staring at, Sir? I swear, he’d take care of everything. He’s not one of those fancy fighters or show-offs. Numps is straightforward, that’s how he plays. You can see his bravery in his face: he has cheeks like two balloons, a nose as flat as your hand, and a forehead like a bull.
Esop. In short, Sir, I find if you and your Family were provided for, Things would soon grow better than they do.
Esop. In short, Sir, I think that if you and your family were taken care of, things would quickly improve.
Gent. And so they wou'd, Sir. Clap me at the Head of the State, and Numps at the Head of the Army: He with his Club-Musquet, and I with my Club Head-Piece, we'd soon put an End to your Business.
Gent. And that's exactly what they would do, Sir. Place me at the top of the government, and Numps at the top of the military: He with his club musket, and I with my club headpiece, we’d quickly put an end to your issues.
Esop. I believe you wou'd indeed. And therefore, since I happen to be acquainted with your extraordinary Abilities, I am resolv'd to give the King an Account of you, and employ my Interest with him, that you and your Son may have the Posts you desire.
Esop. I truly believe you would. So, since I know about your amazing skills, I'm determined to inform the King about you and use my influence to help you and your Son secure the positions you want.
Gent. Will you, by the Lord?—Give me your Fist, Sir—the only honest Courtier that ever I met with in my Life.
Gent. Will you, by God?—Give me your hand, Sir—the only real Courtier I've ever met in my life.
Esop. But, Sir, when I have done you this mighty Piece of Service, I shall have a small Request to beg of you, which I hope you won't refuse me.
Esop. But, Sir, after I’ve done you this great service, I have a small favor to ask of you, which I hope you won’t turn down.
Gent. What's that?
Gent. What's that?
Esop. Why, 'tis in behalf of the two Officers who are to be displac'd to make Room for you and your Son.
Esop. It's for the two Officers who are being removed to make space for you and your Son.
Gent. The Secretary and the General?
Gent. The Secretary and the General?
Esop. The same. 'Tis pity they shou'd be quite out of Business: I must therefore desire you'll let me recommend one of 'em to you for your Bailiff, and t'other for your Huntsman.
Esop. The same. It’s a shame they should be completely out of work: I must ask you to let me recommend one of them to you for your bailiff, and the other for your huntsman.
Gent. My Bailiff and my Huntsman!—--Sir, that's not to be granted.
Gent. My Bailiff and my Huntsman!—Sir, that's not going to happen.
Esop. Pray, why?
Esop. Why should I?
Gent. Why?——Because one wou'd ruin my Land, and t'other wou'd spoil my Fox-Hounds.
Gent. Why?——Because one would ruin my land, and the other would mess up my foxhounds.
Esop. Why do you think so?
Esop. Why do you say that?
Gent. Why do I think so!—--These Courtiers will ask the strangest Questions!—--Why, Sir, do you think that Men bred up to the State or the Army, can understand the Business of Ploughing and Hunting?
Gent. Why do I think that? These courtiers ask the weirdest questions! Seriously, do you really believe that men raised in the court or the military can understand the work of farming and hunting?
Esop. I did not know but they might.
Esop. I didn't know, but they might.
Gent. How cou'd you think so?
Gent. How could you think that?
Esop. Because I see Men bred up to Ploughing and Hunting, understand the Business of the State and the Army.
Esop. Because I see men raised for farming and hunting, they understand the workings of the government and the military.
Gent. I'm shot——I ha'n't one Word to say for myself——I never was so caught in my Life.
Gent. I'm done for—I've got nothing to say for myself—I’ve never been in a situation like this before.
Esop. I perceive, Sir, by your Looks, what I have said has made some Impression upon you; and would, perhaps do more, if you wou'd give it leave. [Taking his Hand.] Come, Sir, tho' I am a Stranger to you, I can be your Friend; my Favour at Court does not hinder me from being a Lover of my Country. 'Tis my Nature, as well as Principle, to be pleas'd with the Prosperity of Mankind. I wish all Things happy, and my Study is to make them so.
Esop. I can tell, Sir, by your expression that what I’ve said has affected you; it might affect you even more if you allow it. [Taking his Hand.] Look, Sir, even though I’m a stranger to you, I can be your friend; my position at court doesn’t stop me from caring about my country. It’s in my nature, as well as my principles, to be happy with the well-being of humanity. I wish for everything to be good, and I work towards making that happen.
The Distempers of the Government (which I own are great) have employ'd the Stretch of my Understanding, and the deepest of my Thoughts, to penetrate the Cause, and to find out the Remedy. But alas! All the Product of my Study is this, That I find there is too near a Resemblance between the Diseases of the State and those of the Body, for the most expert Minister to become a greater Master in one than the College is in t'other: And how far their Skill extends, you may see by this Lump upon my Back. Allowances in all Professions there must be,[Pg 299] since 'tis weak Man that is the weak Professor. Believe me, Senator, for I have seen the Proof on't. The longest Beard amongst us is a Fool. Cou'd you but stand behind the Curtain, and there observe the secret Springs of State, you'd see, in all the Good or Evil that attends it, ten Ounces of Chance for one Grain either of Wisdom or Roguery.
The problems with the government (which I admit are serious) have pushed my thinking and my deepest reflections to figure out the cause and find a solution. But unfortunately, all I've come up with is this: there's a striking similarity between the issues of the state and those of the body, and even the best officials can't understand one better than the experts understand the other. And to what extent their expertise goes, you can see from this lump on my back. There must be allowances in every profession, since it's human weakness that makes for weak professionals. Believe me, Senator, I've seen the proof of this. The wisest among us is often foolish. If you could just stand behind the scenes and observe the hidden workings of the government, you'd see that in all the good or bad that happens, there's ten parts of chance for every grain of wisdom or cunning.
You'd see, perhaps, a venerable Statesman sit fast asleep in a great downy Chair; whilst, in that soft Vacation of his Thought, blind Chance (or what at least we blindly call so) shall so dispose a thousand secret Wheels, that when he awakes, he needs but write his Name, to publish to the World some blest Event, for which his Statue shall be rais'd in Brass.
You might see an old statesman fast asleep in a big comfy chair; while in that gentle moment of his thoughts, blind chance (or what we at least foolishly call it) will set a thousand hidden gears in motion, so that when he wakes up, all he has to do is sign his name to announce to the world some great event that will earn him a statue made of brass.
Perhaps a Moment thence, you shall behold him torturing his Brain; his Thoughts all stretcht upon the Rack for publick Service. The live-long Night, when all the World's at rest, consum'd in Care, and watching for their Safety, then by a Whirlwind in his Fate, in spight of him, some Mischief shall befall 'em, for which a furious Sentence strait shall pass, and they shall vote him to the Scaffold. Even thus uncertain are Rewards and Punishments; and even thus little do the People know, when 'tis the Statesman merits one or t'other.
Perhaps in a moment, you'll see him torturing his mind; his thoughts all stretched out like they're on a rack for public service. The whole night, while the world is at rest, consumed with worry and watching out for their safety, suddenly, by a twist of fate, something bad will happen to them, for which a quick sentence will be passed, and they will vote him to the scaffold. In this way, rewards and punishments are uncertain; and this is how little the people know when it is the statesman who deserves one or the other.
Gent. Now I do believe I am beginning to be a wise Man; for I never till now perceived I was a Fool. But do you then really believe, Sir, our Men in Business do the best they can?
Gent. I think I'm finally starting to get wise; until now, I never realized I was a fool. But do you really believe, Sir, that our business people are doing their best?
Esop. Many of 'em do: Some perhaps do not. But this you may depend upon; he that is out of Business is the worst Judge in the World of him that is in: First, Because he seldom knows any Thing of the Matter: And, Secondly, Because he always desires to get his Place.
Esop. Many of them do: Some might not. But you can count on this: someone who is out of work is the worst judge of someone who is employed. First, because they usually know nothing about the situation. And second, because they always want to get their job back.
Gent. And so, Sir, you turn the Tables upon the Plaintiff, and lay the Fool and Knave at his Door.
Gent. So, Sir, you're flipping the script on the Plaintiff and putting the blame for the Fool and Knave on him.
Esop. If I do him wrong, I'm sorry for't. Let him examine himself, he'll find whether I do or not.
Esop. If I've wronged him, I apologize for it. If he looks within himself, he'll see whether I have or not.
[Exit Esop.
[Exit Aesop.
Gent.——Examine!—--I think I have had enough of that already. There's nothing left, that I know of, but to give Sentence: And truly I think, there's no great[Pg 300] difficulty in that. A very pretty Fellow I am, indeed! Here am I come bellowing and roaring two hundred Miles Post to find myself an Ass; when, with one Quarter of an Hour's Consideration, I might have made the self-same Discovery, without going over my Threshold. Well! if ever they send me on their Errand to reform the State again, I'll be damn'd. But this I'll do: I'll go home and reform my Family if I can: Them I'm sure I know. There's my Father's a peevish old Coxcomb: There's my Uncle's a drunken old Sot: There's my Brother's a cowardly Bully: Son Numps is a lubberly Whelp: I've a great ramping Daughter, that stares like a Heifer: and a Wife that's a slatternly Sow.
Gent.——Take a look!—I've had enough of this already. As far as I know, there's nothing left but to hand down a Sentence: And honestly, I don't think that's very hard at all. What a charming guy I am, really! Here I am, shouting and complaining after traveling two hundred miles, only to discover that I'm an idiot; when, with just a quarter of an hour of thinking, I could have figured it out without even stepping outside my door. Well! if they ever send me on another mission to fix the State, I'll be damned. But here's what I'll do: I'll go home and try to fix my family instead; at least I know them. My father's a cranky old fool. My uncle's a drunk. My brother's a cowardly bully. Son Numps is a lazy kid. I've got a loud daughter who stares like a heifer, and a wife who's a messy pig.
[Exit.
Exit.
Enter a young, gay, airy Beau, who stands smiling contemptibly upon Esop.
Enter a young, gay, lighthearted Beau, who stands smiling contemptuously upon Esop.
Esop. Well, Sir, what are you?
Esop. Well, Sir, what are you?
Beau. A Fool.
Beau. A Fool.
Esop. That's impossible!—--for if thou wert, thou'd'st think thyself a wise Man.
Esop. That's impossible!—--because if you were, you'd think of yourself as a wise man.
Beau. So I do—This is my own Opinion——the t'other's my Neighbour's.
Beau. So I do—This is my own opinion——the other one's my neighbor's.
[Walking airily about.
[Walking lightly around.]
Esop. gazing after him.] Have you any Business with me, Sir?
Esop, gazing after him. Do you have any business with me, sir?
Beau. Sir, I have Business with nobody, Pleasure's my Study.
Beau. Sir, I have no business with anyone; my focus is on pleasure.
Esop. [Aside.] An odd Fellow this!—--Pray, Sir, who are you?
Esop. [Aside.] What an odd guy!—So, who are you?
Beau. I can't tell——
Beau. I can't say—
Esop.——Do you know who I am?
Esop.——Do you know who I am?
Beau. No, Sir: I'm a Favourite at Court, and I neither know myself, nor any body else.
Beau. No, Sir: I'm a favorite at court, and I don't know myself, nor anyone else.
Esop. Are you in any Employment?
Esop. Are you currently employed?
Beau. Yes.
Beau. Yeah.
Esop. What is't?
Esop. What is it?
Beau. I don't know the Name on't.
Beau. I don't know the name of it.
Esop. You know the Business on't, I hope?
Esop. You know the business about it, right?
Beau. That I do—the Business of it is——to——put in a Deputy and receive the Money.
Beau. I do—the point of it is—to—appoint a Deputy and collect the Money.
Esop.——Pray, what may be your Name?
Esop.——What's your name, please?
Beau. Empty.
Beau. Empty.
Esop. Where do you live?
Esop. Where do you stay?
Beau. In the Side-Box.
Beau. In the Sidebar.
Esop. What do you do there?
Esop. What do you do?
Beau. I ogle the Ladies.
Beau. I check out the ladies.
Esop. To what Purpose?
Esop. What's the purpose?
Beau. To no Purpose.
Beau. For no reason.
Esop. Why then do you do it?
Esop. So why do you do it?
Beau. Because they like it, and I like it.
Beau. Because they enjoy it, and I enjoy it.
Esop. Wherein consists the Pleasure?
Esop. What's the pleasure in it?
Beau. In playing the Fool.
Beau. Playing the Fool.
Esop.——Pray, Sir, what Age are you?
Esop.——Could you please tell me how old you are?
Beau. Five and twenty my Body; my Head's about fifteen.
Beau. I'm twenty-five years old physically, but my mind feels like it's only fifteen.
Esop. Is your Father living?
Esop. Is your dad alive?
Beau. Dead, thank God.
Beau. Dead, thank goodness.
Esop. Has he been long so?
Esop. Has he been like this for long?
Beau. Positively, yes.
Sure thing!
Esop. Where were you brought up?
Esop. Where did you grow up?
Beau. At School.
Beau. At School.
Esop. What School?
Esop. Which School?
Beau. The School of Venus.
Beau. The Venus School.
Esop. Were you ever at the University?
Esop. Have you ever been to the University?
Beau. Yes.
Beau. Yeah.
Esop. What Study did you follow there?
Esop. What study did you pursue there?
Beau. My Bed-maker.
Beau. My Bedding Specialist.
Esop. How long did you stay?
Esop. How long were you there?
Beau. Till I had lost my Maidenhead.
Beau. Until I had sex.
Esop. Why did you come away?
Esop. Why did you leave?
Beau. Because I was expell'd.
Beau. Because I was expelled.
Esop. Where did you go then?
Esop. Where did you go?
Beau. To Court.
Beau. To date.
Esop. Who took Care of your Education there?
Esop. Who looked after your education there?
Beau. A Whore and a Dancing-Master.
Beau. A Hustler and a Dance Instructor.
Esop. What did you gain by them?
Esop. What did you get from them?
Beau. A Minuet, and the Pox.
Beau. A Minuet, and the Pox.
Esop. Have you an Estate?
Esop. Do you have a property?
Beau. I had.
Beau. I experienced it.
Esop. What's become on't?
Esop. What's happened to it?
Beau. Spent.
Beau. Done.
Esop. In what?
Esop. In what way?
Beau. In a Twelvemonth.
Beau. In a Year.
Esop. But how?
Esop. But how?
Beau. Why, in Dressing, Drinking, Whoring, Claps, Dice, and Scriveners. What do you think of me now, old Gentleman?
Beau. Well, in terms of dressing, drinking, hooking up, STDs, gambling, and writing. What do you think of me now, old man?
Esop. Pray, what do you think of yourself?
Esop. So, what do you think of yourself?
Beau. I don't think at all: I know how to bestow my Time better.
Beau. I don’t think about it at all: I know how to spend my time more wisely.
Esop. Are you married?
Esop. Are you married?
Beau. No——have you ever a Daughter to bestow upon me?
Beau. No—do you have a daughter to give to me?
Esop. She wou'd be well bestow'd.
Esop. She would be well placed.
Beau. Why, I'm a strong young Dog, you old Put, you: She may be worse coupled——
Beau. Why, I'm a strong young guy, you old coot, you: She could be paired with someone worse——
Esop. Have you then a Mind to a Wife, Sir?
Esop. Do you want a wife, sir?
Beau. Yaw, Mynheer.
Beau. Yeah, sir.
Esop. What wou'd you do with her?
Esop. What would you do with her?
Beau. Why, I'd take Care of her Affairs, rid her of all her Troubles, her Maidenhead, and her Portion.
Beau. Well, I’d manage her affairs, free her from all her troubles, her virginity, and her inheritance.
Esop. And, pray, what Sort of Wife wou'd you be willing to throw yourself away upon?
Esop. And, seriously, what kind of wife would you be willing to throw yourself away on?
Beau. Why, upon one that has Youth, Beauty, Quality, Virtue, Wit and Money.
Beau. Why, for someone who has youth, beauty, charm, virtue, intelligence, and money.
Esop. And how may you be qualified yourself, to back you in your Pretensions to such a one?
Esop. And how can you prove yourself worthy to support your claims to such a person?
Beau. Why, I am qualified with——a Perriwig——a Snuff-box—a Feather——a——smooth Face——a Fool's Head——and a Patch.
Beau. Well, I’m equipped with—a wig—a snuffbox—a feather—a—smooth face—a fool’s cap—and a patch.
Esop. But one Question more: What Settlements can you make?
Esop. But one more question: What kind of agreements can you make?
Beau. Settlements!—Why, if she be a very great Heiress, indeed, I believe I may settle——myself upon her for Life, and my Pox upon her Children for ever.
Beau. Settlements!—Well, if she’s a really big Heiress, I think I might settle——myself with her for Life, and my curse upon her Children forever.
Esop. 'Tis enough; you may expect I'll serve you, if it lies in my Way. But I wou'd not have you rely too much upon your Success, because People sometimes are mistaken——
Esop. That's enough; you can expect that I'll help you if I can. But I wouldn't want you to rely too much on your success, because people can be mistaken sometimes—
As for Example——
As for example—
Just like you, me, or anyone here;
Well-dressed and showing off,
And with a head like any handsome guy:
Eternal joy was on his face; Wherever he went, He was happy, So luck had just kindly sent Some Ladies—and a Mirror. They always encouraged him, Encouragement to be silly; Because soon they realized it was a Tool
You wouldn't be so in love, But the mumbling of a Glove,
Or tearing a fan would save him.
These bounties he accepts as proof. *Of achievements accomplished through his intelligence and youthful energy;* He takes away their freedom forever,
Concludes each woman's heart undone, Except for that very happy one
To which he would be happy to do the favor.
In short, everything went so smoothly for him, He guessed that wherever his thoughts were focused, The Lady he has to carry:
So wear a nice new cravat,
He styled his wig, he adjusted his hat, And announced that he would get married. But here, unfortunately, he found to his expense, He had planned for a long time without considering his Host: For wherever he launched the attack, Poor Pug with Shame was pushed back.
The first fair he had in Chace, There was a young cat who was very wealthy,
Her mother was a well-known witch; If the Daughter had just been polite,
He was connected to the Devil.
But when he arrived To inspire his love, She scratched his face. With that, he went among the women, Those who had beauty, wit, and wealth,
And Miss Maulkin swore, to her own disadvantage, She should quickly see what she has lost: But the poor, unlucky guy Missed his Shepherdess again; His fate was to fail. It was his destiny to discover,
Cats and Dogs Think Alike,
When monkeys come to marry.
Beau. 'Tis very well;——'tis very well, old Spark; I say, 'tis very well. Because I han't a Pair of plaid Shoes, and a dirty Shirt, you think a Woman won't venture upon me for a Husband——Why, now to shew you, old Father, how little you Philosophers know of the Ladies, I'll tell you an Adventure of a Friend of mine.
Beau. It's all good;——it's all good, old Spark; I mean, it's all good. Just because I don’t have a pair of plaid shoes and a dirty shirt, you think a woman wouldn’t consider me as a husband——Well, to show you, old Father, how little you philosophers understand women, let me share a story about a friend of mine.
[Pg 305] Attacked a lady's heart together.
The Band, in a very knowledgeable request, Rooted in deep philosophy, I told her, if she would like to get married A Reverend Beard, and instead
Of energetic youth, Serious Truth,
Bringing Books and Morals to Bed,
How happy she would be. The Bob talked about management, What amazing blessings heaven sent On Caring, Hard Work, and Effort;
And, really, he has to be that free. He thought you owned your light-hearted guys. With powdered wigs and dancing shoes, Were useless (save his Soul!),
But chatter, talk, and act like a fool. He said, it was Wealth that brought Joy and Happiness;
And that to be the beloved wife
Of someone who worked hard their entire life,
To make a gold mine his own, And not spend a dime when he'd done, Was paradise on Earth.
When these two Blades were finished, you see, The Feather (as it could be me)
Steps out, Sir, from behind the screen, With such a presence, and such a demeanor,
Listen up, old man, to sum it up,
He quickly ruined the politician's game. It proved to be sunny weather, You should know, at the first Beck
The lady jumped around his neck, And off they went together.
To Esop.] There's a Tale for your Tale, old Dad, and so——Serviteur.
To Employee stock ownership plan.] There's a story for your story, old man, and so——Serviteur.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
THE
FALSE FRIEND.
A
COMEDY.
PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Capt. Griffin.
Spoken by Capt. Griffin.
[Pg 309] You terrible Cat-o'-nine Tails to the Stage, }
This will be just and engage in our cause. To earn your favor, we follow your rules, }
And give you a moral lesson today; So basically, we're worried it’ll ruin the play. }
Although you've been together for a long time (as people say)
To reduce the excessive power of Hell;
No troops you send can lessen it in this field, But let's still be left exposed, to starve or surrender. Your Scouts do sometimes sneak in,
Take note of this formidable Camp of Sin,
And quietly say, if we will sincerely proclaim, What help will you send to support us through the war? In response, we say, We're a weak State, }
And can't really afford to love or hate, }
So you shouldn't get too involved in your debate. }
But, since your cause is good, this is as far as we’ll go,
When Portugal declares, we will too. We believe our cases are quite similar,
And under the same conditions, we should proceed;
Send a hundred soldiers to help them,
To us, a hundred Squadrons of the Fair;
Dress your wives and daughters in beautiful outfits all around, (I mean, we're ready for service, in good shape and sound) And to prove our sincerity, }
Look, the ships are in good condition, and if you're worried }
A lack of equipment, we'll handle them here. }
These are the terms under which you can engage
The Poet's Fire, to strike from the Stage:
Helpful Ally! whose Friendship welcomes you in,
On the fragile and exposed aspect of Sin.
Your previous attack is being countered by the enemy,
Well fortified and always on guard;
The sacred shot you send is wasted; By disrespectful hands, with arrogant disdain, }
They're gathered up and shooting at you again. Through frustrating struggles and unfruitful worries, In Slaughter, Blood, and Wounds, and holy Traps, }
You have been fighting a Flanders War for fifteen hundred years. }
Change your approach if you want to bother your enemy, And the infernal Bajazet destroy; We accept aid,
We'll employ gentler strategies that might work;
We'll poke them where it hurts:
In a gentler tone, we’ll show them how to comply; }
The evil spirit rested in gentler sounds, }
And take away Immorality.
Dramatis Personæ.
| MEN. | ||
|---|---|---|
| Don Felix, a Gentleman of Valencia, | Capt. Griffin. | |
| Don Pedro, | Lovers of Leonora, | Mr. Wilks. |
| Don Guzman, | Mr. Mills. | |
| Don John, | Mr. Cibber. | |
| Lopez, Servant to Don John, | Mr. Pinkethman. | |
| Galindo, Servant to Don Guzman, | Mr. Bullock. | |
| WOMEN. | ||
| Leonora, Daughter to Don Felix, | Mrs. Rogers. | |
| Isabella, her Friend, and Sister to Guzman, | Mrs. Kent. | |
| Jacinta, Woman to Leonora, | Mrs. Oldfield. | |
SCENE, at Valencia.
SCENE, in Valencia.
THE
FALSE FRIEND.
THE
FAKE FRIEND.
ACT I. SCENE I.
SCENE, Don John's Lodgings.
SCENE, Don John's Place.
Enter Don John beating Lopez.
Enter Don John beating Lopez.
Lop. Hold, Sir, hold; there's enough in all Conscience; I'm reasonable, I ask no more; I'm content.
Lop. Hold, Sir, stop; there's plenty for everyone. I'm being fair, I don't ask for anything extra; I'm satisfied.
Don John. Then there's a double Content, you Dog, and a Brace of Contents more into the Bargain. Now is't well?
Don John. Then there's a double deal, you dog, and a couple more deals thrown in. Is that good?
[Striking again and again.
Keep hitting.
Lop. O, mighty well, Sir; you'll never mend it; pray leave it as 'tis.
Lop. Oh, that's just fine, Sir; you'll never fix it; please just leave it as it is.
Don John. Look you, you Jackanapes, if ever I hear an Offer at your impertinent Advice again——
Don John. Listen up, you jerk, if I ever hear you make a suggestion based on your annoying advice again——
Lop. And why, Sir, will you stifle the most useful of my Qualifications?
Lop. And why, Sir, will you suppress the most valuable of my skills?
Don John. Either, Sirrah, I pass for a very great Blockhead with you, or you are pleas'd to reckon much upon my Patience.
Don John. Either, buddy, I come off as a real fool to you, or you think I'm really patient.
Lop. Your Patience, Sir, indeed is great: I feel at this Time forty Proofs on't upon my Shoulders: But really, Sir, I wou'd advise you to——
Lop. Your patience, sir, is truly remarkable: I can feel forty examples of it weighing on my shoulders right now. But honestly, sir, I would advise you to——
Don John. Again! I can bear thee no longer. Here, Pen and Ink, I'll give thee thy Discharge: Did I take you for a Valet, or a Privy-Counsellor, Sir?
Don John. Again! I can’t handle you anymore. Here, Pen and Ink, I’ll let you go: Did I think of you as a servant or a trusted advisor, sir?
Lop. 'Tis confess'd, Sir, you took me but for humble Employment; but my Intention was agreeably to surprize you with some superior Gifts of Nature, to your faithful Slave. I profess, my noble Master, a most perfect Knowledge of Men and Manners. Yours, gracious Sir, (with all Respect I speak it) are not irreprehensible. And I'm afraid in Time, Sir, I am indeed, they'll riggle you into some ill-favour'd Affair, whence, with all my Understanding, I shall be puzzled to bring you off.
Lop. I confess, Sir, you thought I was just a simple servant; but my plan was to surprise you with some exceptional gifts of nature, for your loyal servant. I assure you, my noble Master, I have a deep understanding of people and their behaviors. Yours, kind Sir, (with all due respect) are not without fault. And I fear that in time, Sir, they will indeed involve you in some unpleasant situation, from which, with all my knowledge, I will struggle to save you.
Don John. Very well, Sir.
Don John. Alright, Sir.
Lop. And therefore, Sir, it is, that I, poor Lopez as I am, sometimes take leave to maralize.
Lop. And that's why, Sir, I, poor Lopez, sometimes take the liberty to moralize.
Don John. Go, go, moralize in the Market-place: I'm quite worn out. Once more, march.
Don John. Go, go, preach in the marketplace: I'm really tired. Let's go again.
Lop. Is the Sentence definitive?
Is the sentence final?
Don John. Positive.
Don John. Positive.
Lop. Then, pray, let us come to account, and see what Wages are due.
Lop. Then, please, let's settle up and see what wages are owed.
Don John. Wages! Refund what you have had, you Rascal, you, for the plague you have given me.
Don John. Pay back what you owe, you scoundrel, for the trouble you've caused me.
Lop. Nay, if I must lose my Money; then let me claim another Right: Losers have leave to speak. Therefore, advance, my Tongue, and say thy Pleausure; tell this Master of mine, he shou'd die with shame at the Life he leads: So much unworthy of a Man of Honour: Tell him——
Lop. No, if I'm going to lose my money, then let me assert another right: losers have the right to speak. So go ahead, my tongue, and express your pleasure; tell my master that he should be ashamed of the life he leads: it's so unworthy of a man of honor. Tell him——
Don John. I'll hear no more.
Don John. I'm done listening.
Lop. You shall indeed, Sir.
You will indeed, Sir.
Don John. Here, take thy Money, and begone.
Don John. Here, take your money and get lost.
Lop. Counters all; adieu, you glistring Spangles of the World; farewel, ye Tempters of the Great, not me. Tell him——
Lop. Counter everything; goodbye, you shining decorations of the world; farewell, you tempters of the powerful, but not to me. Tell him——
Don John. Stay.
Don John. Stay here.
Lop. Go on; tell him he's worse among the Women than a Ferret among the Rabbits; at one and all, from the Princess to the Tripe-Woman; handsome, ugly, old Women and Children, all go down.
Lop. Go ahead; tell him he's worse among women than a ferret among rabbits; everyone, from the princess to the tripe-seller—beautiful, ugly, old women and children—are all affected.
Don John. Very well.
Don John. Sounds good.
Lop. It is, indeed, Sir, and so are the Stories you tell them to bring them to your Matters. The Handsome, she's all Divinity, to be sure; the Ugly, she's so agreeable, were it not for her Virtue, she'd be over-run with Lovers; the light, airy, Flipflap, she kills him with her Motions; the dull, heavy-tail'd Maukin melts him down with her Modesty; the scragged, lean, pale Face has a Shape for Destruction; the fat over-grown Sow has an Air of Importance; the tall aukward Trapes with her Majesty wounds; the little, short Trundle-tail shoots a Je-ne-sçay-quoy: In a Word, they have all something for him——and he has something for them all.
Lop. It truly is, Sir, and so are the stories you tell to get them interested in your matters. The beautiful one is pure charm, no doubt; the not-so-attractive one is so pleasant, that if it weren't for her virtue, she'd be swarmed by admirers; the lively, carefree one captivates him with her movements; the dull, heavy girl wins him over with her modesty; the skinny, pale one has a look that spells trouble; the overweight one carries herself with importance; the tall, awkward girl has a presence that strikes; and the short, stocky one has an undeniable appeal. In short, they all have something for him—and he has something for all of them.
Don John. And thus, you Fool, by a general Attack, I keep my Heart my own; lie with them that like me, and care not Sixpence for them that don't.
Don John. And so, you fool, with a broad approach, I keep my heart to myself; I'll sleep with those who like me, and I don't care at all for those who don't.
Lop. Well said, well said; a very pretty Amusement, truly! But, pray, Sir, by your leave (Ceremony aside) since you are pleas'd to clear up into Conversation, what mighty Matters do you expect from boarding a Woman, you know, is already Heart and Soul engag'd to another?
Lop. Well said, well said; a very nice distraction, for sure! But, excuse me, Sir, if you don’t mind (putting politeness aside), since you’re happy to start a conversation, what do you really expect to gain from pursuing a woman who is already completely devoted to someone else?
Don John. Why, I expect her Heart and Soul shou'd disengage in a Week. If you live a little longer with me, Sirrah, you'll know how to instruct your next Master to the purpose; and therefore, that I may charitably equip you for a new Service, now I'm turning you out of my own, I'll let you know, that when a Woman loves a Man best, she's in the most hopeful way of betraying him; for Love, like Fortune, turns upon a Wheel, and is very much given to rising and falling.
Don John. I expect her heart and soul will be free in a week. If you stick around with me a bit longer, you'll learn how to prepare your next boss properly; so, in the spirit of helping you for your next job, since I'm letting you go from this one, I'll tell you that when a woman loves a man the most, she's actually in the best position to betray him. Love, like fortune, spins in cycles and tends to rise and fall a lot.
Lop. Like enough: But as much upon the Weathercock as the Ladies are; there are some the Wind must blow hard to fetch them about: When such a sturdy Hussy falls in your Honour's way, what account may Things turn to then, an't please ye?
Lop. Probably. But just like the weather vane and the ladies, there are some that the wind has to blow pretty hard to get them moving. When such a tough woman comes across your Honor, what might happen then, if I may ask?
Don John. They turn to a Bottle, you Puppy.
Don John. They turn to a bottle, you little pup.
Lop. I find they'll always turn to something; but when you pursue a poor Woman, only to make her Lover jealous, what Pleasure can you take in that?
Lop. I think they'll always end up choosing something; but when you chase after a poor woman just to make her boyfriend jealous, what pleasure do you get from that?
Don John. That Pleasure.
Don John. That Pleasure.
Lop. Look you there, again.
Look over there, again.
Don John. Why, Sirrah, d'ye think there's no Pleasure in spoiling their Sport, when I can't make my own?
Don John. Why, man, do you think there's no fun in ruining their game when I can't have my own?
Lop. O! to a good-natur'd Man, be sure there must; but, suppose, instead of 'fending and proving with his Mistress, he shou'd come to——a——parrying and thrusting with you; what becomes of your Joy, then, my noble Master?
Lop. Oh! For a good-natured person, it’s necessary; but, imagine if, instead of defending and proving himself to his girlfriend, he started fencing and sparring with you; what happens to your happiness then, my noble Master?
Don John. Why, do you think I'm afraid to fight, you Rascal?
Don John. Why, do you think I'm scared to fight, you rascal?
Lop. I thought we were talking of what we lov'd, not what we fear'd, Sir.
Lop. I thought we were discussing what we love, not what we fear, Sir.
Don John. Sir, I love every Thing that leads to what I love most.
Don John. Sir, I love everything that brings me closer to what I love the most.
Lop. I know, Sir, you have often fought upon these Occasions.
Lop. I know, Sir, you've often battled over these matters.
Don John. Therefore, that has been no stop to my Pleasures.
Don John. So, that hasn't stopped my pleasures.
Lop. But you have never been kill'd once, Sir; and when that happens, you will for ever lose the Pleasure of——
Lop. But you’ve never been killed, Sir; and when that happens, you’ll forever lose the pleasure of——
Don John. [Striking him.] Breaking your Head, you Rascal, which will afflict me heartily. See who knocks so hard.
Don John. [Striking him.] Breaking your head, you jerk, that will really upset me. Who's knocking so loudly?
[Knocking.
[Knock knock.
Lop. Somebody that thinks I can hear no better than you think I can feel.
Lop. Someone who believes I can't hear any better than you think I can feel.
Enter Don Guzman.
Enter Don Guzman.
Don Guz. Don John de Alvarada, is he here?
Don Guz. Don John de Alvarada, is he around?
Lop. There's the Man. Shew me such another, if you can find him.
Lop. There's the man. Show me another like him, if you can find one.
[Aside.
Aside.
Don Guz. Don John, I desire to speak with you alone.
Don Guz. Don John, I want to talk to you privately.
Don John. You may speak before this Fellow, Sir; he's trusty.
Don John. You can speak in front of this guy, sir; he's reliable.
Don Guz. 'Tis an Affair of Honour, Sir.
Don Guz. It's a matter of honor, sir.
Don John. Withdraw, Lopez.
Don John. Withdraw, Lopez.
Lop. Behind the Door I will, and no farther. [Aside.] This Fellow looks as if he came to save me a broken Head.
Lop. I'll go right up to the door, but not any farther. [Aside.] This guy looks like he’s here to help me avoid a nasty injury.
[Lopez retires.
Lopez retires.
Don Guz. I call myself Don Guzman de Torrellas; you[Pg 315] know what Blood I spring from; I am a Cadet, and by consequence, not rich; but I am esteem'd by Men of Honour: I have been forward to expose myself in Battles abroad, and I have met with Applause in our Feasts at home.
Don Guz. I go by Don Guzman de Torrellas; you[Pg 315] know my lineage; I’m a Cadet, which means I’m not wealthy; but I'm respected by honorable people: I’ve actively put myself in battles overseas, and I've been praised at our gatherings at home.
Lop. So much by way of Introduction.
Lop. That's enough for the intro.
[Aside.
[Note.]
Don John. I understand your Merit, Sir, and shou'd be glad to do as much by your Business.
Don John. I recognize your worth, Sir, and would be happy to support your business.
Don Guz. Give Attention, and you'll be instructed. I love Leonora, and from my Youth have done so. Long she rejected my Sighs, and despised my Tears, but my Constancy at last hath vanquish'd. I have found the way to her Heart, and nothing is wanting to compleat my Joy, but the Consent of her Father, whom I cannot yet convince, that the Wants in my Fortune are recompens'd by the Merits of my Person.
Don Guz. Pay attention, and you'll learn something. I've loved Leonora since I was young. For a long time, she ignored my sighs and looked down on my tears, but my persistence has finally won her over. I've discovered how to reach her heart, and the only thing I need to complete my happiness is her father's approval, but I still can’t convince him that what I lack in wealth is made up for by my personal qualities.
Lop. He's a very dull Fellow, indeed.
Lop. He's really a boring guy, for sure.
[Aside.
[By the way.
Don Guz. In the mean while, the Object of my Vows is a sharer in my Grief, and the only Cordial we have is the Pleasure of a secret Conversation, thro' a small Breach I have made in a thin Partition that divides our Lodgings. I trust you, Don John, with this important Secret; Friend or Enemy, you are noble, therefore keep it; I charge your Honour with it.
Don Guz. Meanwhile, the person I care about shares in my sadness, and the only comfort we have is the joy of a private chat through a small opening I've created in the thin wall that separates our rooms. I trust you, Don John, with this important secret; whether friend or foe, you are honorable, so keep it; I entrust it to your honor.
Lop. You cou'd not put it in better Hands.
Lop. You couldn't entrust it to better hands.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Guz. But more; my Passion for this Lady is not hid; all Valencia is acquainted with my Wishes, and approves my Choice. You alone, Don John de Alvarada, seeming ignorant of my Vows, dare traverse my Amour.
Don Guz. But more than that; my feelings for this lady are no secret; everyone in Valencia knows about my desires and supports my choice. You alone, Don John de Alvarada, apparently unaware of my commitments, have the audacity to disrupt my love.
Don John. Go on.
Don John. Go ahead.
Lop. These Words import War; lie close, Lopez.
Lop. These words mean trouble; stay alert, Lopez.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Guz. You are the Argus of our Street and the Spy of Leonora; whether Diana by her borrow'd Light supplies the Absence of the Astrea of Day, or that the Shades of Night cover the Earth with impenetrable Darkness; you still attend till Aurora's Return, under the Balcony of that adorable Beauty.
Don Guz. You are the Argus of our street and the spy of Leonora; whether Diana with her borrowed light makes up for the absence of the Astrea of day, or whether the shadows of night cover the earth in impenetrable darkness; you still wait until Aurora returns, beneath the balcony of that lovely beauty.
Don John. So?
Don John. So?
Don Guz. Wherever she moves, you still follow as[Pg 316] her Shadow, at Church, at Plays: Be her Business with Heaven or Earth, your Importunity is such, you'll share it.
Don Guz. No matter where she goes, you still follow as[Pg 316] her shadow, whether at church or at performances. Whether she’s dealing with matters of Heaven or Earth, your persistence is such that you’ll be part of it.
Lop. He is a forward Fellow, that's the Truth on't.
Lop. He is a bold Fellow, that's the truth of it.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Guz. But what's still farther, you take the Liberty to copy me; my Words, my Actions, every Motion is no sooner mine, but your's. In short, you ape me, Don; and to that point, I once design'd to stab myself, and try if you wou'd follow me in that too.
Don Guz. But what's even worse is that you feel free to mimic me; my words, my actions, every little move I make is hardly mine before it becomes yours. In short, you copy me, Don; and to prove my point, I once thought about stabbing myself to see if you'd do that too.
Lop. No, there the Monkey wou'd have left you.
Lop. No, that’s where the Monkey would have abandoned you.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Guz. But to conclude.
Don Guz. But to wrap up.
Don John. 'Tis Time.
Don John. It's Time.
Don Guz. My Patience, Don, is now no more; and I pronounce, that if henceforth I find you under Leonora's Window, who never wish'd, fond Man, to see you there; I, by the ways of Honour, shall fix you in another Station. I leave you to consider on't.——Farewel.
Don Guz. My patience, Don, has run out; and I declare that if I catch you under Leonora's window again, where she never wanted to see you, I will, in the name of honor, put you in another place. Think about it. — Farewell.
[Exit Don Guz.
[Exit Don Guz.
Don John. Hold, Sir, we had e'en as good do this honourable Deed now.
Don John. Wait, Sir, we might as well do this honorable deed right now.
Re-enter Lopez.
Re-enter Lopez.
Lop. No, pray, Sir, let him go, and maybe you mayn't have Occasion to do it at all.
Lop. No, please, sir, let him go, and maybe you won't even need to do it at all.
Don John. I thought at first the Coxcomb came upon another Subject, which wou'd have embarrassed me much more.
Don John. At first, I thought the fool had come across another topic, which would have made me much more uncomfortable.
Lop. Now this was a Subject wou'd have embarrass'd me enough in all Conscience.
Lop. Now, this was a topic that would have really confused me in all honesty.
Don John. I was afraid he came to forbid me seeing his Sister, Isabella, with whom I'm upon very good Terms.
Don John. I was worried he showed up to stop me from seeing his sister, Isabella, with whom I get along really well.
Lop. Why, now, that's a hard Case, when you have got a Man's Sister, you can't leave him his Mistress.
Lop. Well, that’s a tough situation; when you have a man's sister, you can't leave him with just his mistress.
Don John. No, Changeling, I hate him enough, to love every Woman that belongs to him: and the Fool has so provok'd me by this Threatning, that I believe I shall have a Stroke at his Mother, before I think myself even with him.
Don John. No, Changeling, I hate him so much that I love every woman connected to him. The fool has irritated me with this threat so much that I think I might take a swing at his mother before I feel even with him.
Lop. A most admirable way to make up Accounts, truly!
Lop. What a great way to settle accounts, really!
Don John. A Son of a Whore! s'death, I did not care Sixpence for the Slut before, but now I'll have her Maidenhead in a Week, for fear the Rogue shou'd marry her in ten Days.
Don John. The Son of a Whore! Damn, I didn't care at all for the girl before, but now I'll have her virginity in a week, for fear the bastard might marry her in ten days.
Lop. Mum; here's her Father: I'll warrant this old Spark comes to correct our Way of living too.
Lop. Mom; here's her Dad: I'm sure this old Spark is here to judge our way of living too.
Enter Don Felix.
Enter Don Felix.
Don Fel. Don John!
Don Fel. Don John!
Don John. Don Felix! do I see you in my poor Dwelling? Pray, to what lucky Accident do I owe this Honour?
Don John. Don Felix! Is that really you in my humble home? What lucky chance brings you here?
Don Fel. That I may speak to you without Constraint, pray send away your Servant.
Don Fel. Please let me talk to you freely; could you ask your servant to leave?
Lop. What the Pox have I done to 'em, they are all so uneasy at my Company?
Lop. What the heck have I done to them? They all seem so uncomfortable around me.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don John. Give us Chairs, and leave the Room.
Don John. Bring us some chairs, and step out of the room.
Lop. If this old Fellow comes to quarrel with us too, he'll at least do us less harm.
Lop. If this old guy comes to fight with us too, he'll at least do us less damage.
[Aside.
Aside.
Don Fel. Won't you retire, Friend?
Don Fel. Why don't you retire, buddy?
[Looking behind.
Looking back.
Don John. Be gone, Sirrah.
Don John. Be gone, dude.
Lop. aside.] Pox take ye——you old Prig, you: But I shall be even with you.
Lop. aside.] Damn you—old stickler! But I'll get back at you.
[Lopez hides himself.
Lopez is hiding.
Don Fel. You know me, Sir?
Don Fel. Do you know me, Sir?
Don John. I do, Sir.
Don John. Yes, Sir.
Don Fel. That I call myself——
Don Fel. That’s what I call myself——
Don John. Don Felix.
Don John. Don Felix.
Don Fel. That I am of the House of——
Don Fel. That I am from the House of——
Don John. Cabrera, one of the first of Valencia.
Don John. Cabrera, one of the earliest residents of Valencia.
Don Fel. That my Estate is——
Don Fel. That my estate is——
Don John. Great.
Don John. Great.
Don Fel. You know that I have some Reputation in the World?
Don Fel. You know I have a certain reputation out there?
Don John. I know your Reputation equals your Birth.
Don John. I know your reputation matches your background.
Don Fel. And you are not ignorant, that Heaven, for the Consolation of my grey Hairs, has given me an only Daughter, who is not deform'd?
Don Fel. And you know very well that Heaven, for the comfort of my grey hairs, has blessed me with an only daughter who is not ugly?
Don John. Beauteous as Light.
Don John. Beautiful as Light.
Don Fel. Well shap'd, witty, and endow'd with—
Don Fel. Well-shaped, smart, and blessed with—
Don John. All the good Qualities of Mind and Body.
Don John. All the great qualities of mind and body.
Don Fel. Since you are satisfy'd with all this, hearken, I pray, with Attention, to the Business that brings me hither.
Don Fel. Since you’re okay with all this, please listen closely to the matter that brings me here.
Don John. I shall.
Don John. I will.
Don Fel. We all know, Don John, some by their own Experience, some by that of others, how nice a Gentleman's Honour is, and how easily tarnish'd; an Eclaircissement manag'd with Prudence, often prevents Misfortunes, that, perhaps, might be upon the Point of attending us. I have thought it my Duty to acquaint you, that I have seen your Designs upon my Daughter: You pass Nights entire under her Window, as if you were searching an Opportunity to get into my House; there is nobody in the Town but has taken Notice of your Proceedings; you give the Publick a Subject for disadvantageous Discourse; and tho' in reality Leonora's Virtue receives no Prejudice by it, her Reputation daily runs some Risque. My Years have taught me to judge right of Things; and yet, I have not been able to decide what your End can be; you can't regard my Daughter on a foot of Gallantry; you know her Virtue, and my Birth too well; and for a Wife you seem to have no Thought, since you have yet made no Demand to me: What then is your Intention? You have heard, perhaps, I have hearken'd to a Gentleman of Toledo, a Man of Merit. I own I have, and I expect him daily here; but, Don John, if 'tis that which hinders you from declaring in form, I'll ease you of a great deal of Trouble, which the Customs of the World impose upon these Occasions, and, in a Word, I'll break with him, and give you Leonora.
Don Fel. We all know, Don John, some from our own experiences and some from others, how delicate a gentleman's honor is, and how easily it can be damaged. A well-handled Eclaircissement can often prevent misfortunes that might be right around the corner. I felt it was my duty to inform you that I've noticed your intentions towards my daughter. You spend entire nights under her window, as if you’re looking for a chance to get into my house; everyone in town has noticed your actions. You're giving the public something to gossip about, and although Leonora's virtue isn’t harmed by it, her reputation is definitely at risk. My years have taught me to judge things correctly, but even so, I can't figure out what your aim is. You can't possibly be interested in my daughter in a romantic way; you know her virtue and my background too well. And you don't seem to have any thoughts of marrying her since you haven't made any formal proposal to me. So what are you trying to accomplish? You've probably heard that I've been considering a gentleman from Toledo, a reputable man. I admit I have, and I expect him here any day now. But, Don John, if that’s what’s holding you back from making your intentions clear, I’ll relieve you of a lot of trouble that societal customs impose in these situations. In short, I’ll break things off with him and give you Leonora.
Lop. Good.
Lop. Okay.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Fel. You don't answer me! What is't that troubles you?
Don Fel. You're not answering me! What’s bothering you?
Don John. That I have been such a Sot, old Gentleman, to hear you with so much Patience.
Don John. I can't believe I've been such a fool, old man, to listen to you with so much patience.
[Rising.
Rising.
Don Fel. How, Don! I'm more astonish'd at your Answer, than I was with your Silence.
Don Fel. Wow, Don! I'm more shocked by your response than I was by your silence.
Don John. Astonish'd! Why han't you talk'd to me of Marriage? He asks me to marry, and wonders what I complain of!
Don John. I’m shocked! Why haven’t you talked to me about marriage? He asks me to marry him and wonders what I’m upset about!
Don Fel. 'Tis well——'tis well, Don John, the Outrage is violent! You insult me in your own House. But, know, Sir——
Don Fel. "It's alright—it's alright, Don John, the situation is intense! You disrespect me in your own home. But, understand, Sir—"
[Rising.
Rising.
Don John. But, know, Sir, there needs no Quarrel, if you please, Sir; I like your Daughter very well; but for marrying her——Serviteur.
Don John. But, you should know, sir, there’s no need for a conflict, if that’s okay with you, sir; I think your daughter is wonderful; but as for marrying her—Serviteur.
Don Fel. Don Guzman de Torrellas has not less Merit than you, Don.
Don Fel. Don Guzman de Torrellas has just as much merit as you, Don.
Don John. Agreed; what then?
Don John. Agreed; what now?
Don Fel. And yet I have refus'd him my Daughter.
Don Fel. And yet I have refused him my daughter.
Don John. Why then, you have used him better than you have done me, which I take very unkindly.
Don John. Why have you treated him better than you’ve treated me? I find that really hurtful.
Don Fel. I have us'd you, Sir——
Don Fel. I've used you, Sir—
Don John. Us'd me, Sir? you have us'd me very ill, to come into my own House to seduce me.
Don John. Did you really use me, Sir? You've treated me very poorly by coming into my own house to try to seduce me.
Don Fel. What Extravagance!
Don Fel. What a Splurge!
Don John. What Persecution!
Don John. What a nightmare!
Don Fel. Am I then to have no other Answer?
Don Fel. Am I really not going to get another response?
Don John. Methinks, you have enough in all Conscience.
Don John. I think you have enough, without a doubt.
Don Fel. Promise me, at least, you'll cease to love my Daughter.
Don Fel. Promise me that you'll stop loving my daughter.
Don John. I won't affront your Family so far, neither.
Don John. I won’t disrespect your family either.
Lop. I'gad my Master shines to-day.
Lop. I swear my Master shines today.
[Aside.
[By the way.
Don Fel. Know, Don, that I can bear no more.
Don Fel. Know, Don, that I can't take it any longer.
Lop. If he cou'd, I think there's no more to lay upon him.
Lop. If he could, I think there’s nothing more to say about him.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Fel. If I find you continue to importune Leonora, I shall find a way to satisfy my offended Honour, and punish your Presumption.
Don Fel. If I catch you still bothering Leonora, I will find a way to restore my injured honor and deal with your arrogance.
Don John. You shall do what you please to me, provided you don't marry me.
Don John. You can do whatever you want with me, as long as you don't marry me.
Don Fel. Know, Alvarada, there are ways to revenge such outrageous Affronts as these.
Don Fel. Know, Alvarada, there are ways to get back at such outrageous offenses like these.
Don John. I won't marry.
Don John. I'm not getting married.
Don Fel. 'Tis enough.
Don Fel. That's enough.
[Exit Don Felix.
[Exit Don Felix.
Re-enter Lopez.
Re-enter Lopez.
Lop. So; the old Fellow's gone at last, and has carry'd great Content along with him.
Lop. So, the old guy's finally gone, and he took a lot of satisfaction with him.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don John. Lopez.
Don John Lopez.
Lop. Sir——
Lop. Sir—
Don John. What dost think? He wou'd have marry'd me!
Don John. What do you think? He would have married me!
Lop. Yes, he had found his Man. But you have been even with him.
Lop. Yes, he had found his guy. But you have evened the score with him.
Don John. What! thou hast heard us then?
Don John. What! You heard us?
Lop. Or I were no Valet: But, pray, what does your Honour intend to do now? Will you continue the Siege of a Place, where, 'tis probable, they will daily augment the Fortifications, when there are so many open Towns you may march into, without the Trouble of opening the Trenches.
Lop. Or I wouldn’t be a servant: But, please, what do you plan to do now? Are you going to keep laying siege to a place where, likely, they will keep reinforcing their defenses, when there are so many open towns you could just walk into without the hassle of digging trenches?
Don John. I am going, Lopez, to double my Attacks: I'll beat up her Quarters six Times a-night; I am now downright in Love: the Difficulties pique me to the Attempt, and I'll conquer or I'll die.
Don John. I'm going, Lopez, to double my efforts: I'll visit her place six times a night; I'm totally in love now: the challenges excite me to try, and I'll either win or die trying.
Lop. Why, to confess the Truth, Sir, I find you much upon my Taste in this Matter: Difficulties are the Rocambole of Love; I never valu'd an easy Conquest in my life. To rouse my Fire; the Lady must cry out, as softly as ever she can, Have a Care, my Dear, my Mother has seen us: My Brothers suspect me; my Husband may surprize us: O, dear Heart, have a Care, I pray! Then, I play the Devil: But, when I come to a Fair-one, where I may hang up my Cloak upon a Peg, get into my Gown and Slippers—
Lop. To tell you the truth, Sir, I really like your approach to this issue: Challenges are the exciting part of love; I've never valued an easy win in my life. To ignite my passion, the lady has to whisper as softly as she can, "Be careful, my dear, my mother has seen us; my brothers suspect me; my husband could catch us. Oh, sweetheart, please be careful!" Then, I go wild. But when I'm with a beautiful woman, where I can hang up my cloak, put on my gown and slippers—
Don John. Impudent Rogue!
Don John. Impudent Rogue!
[Aside.
Aside.
Lop. See her stretch'd upon the Couch, in great Security, with—My Dear, come kiss me, we have nothing to fear—I droop, I yawn, I sleep.
Lop. Look at her lying on the couch, feeling very safe, saying—My love, come kiss me, we have nothing to worry about—I’m feeling tired, I yawn, I sleep.
Don John. Well, Sir, whatever you do with your Fair-one, I am going to be very busy with mine; I was e'en almost weary of her, but Guzman and this old Fellow have reviv'd my dying Fire; and so, have at her.
Don John. Well, sir, whatever you do with your lady, I’m going to be really busy with mine; I was almost tired of her, but Guzman and this old guy have sparked my interest again; so, here we go.
Lop. 'Tis all mighty well, Sir; mighty well, Sir, as can be in the World. But, if you wou'd have the Goodness to consider en passant, or so, a little now and then about Swords and Daggers, and Rivals and old Fellows, and Pistols and great Guns, and such like Baubles, only[Pg 321] now and then at leisure, Sir, not to interrupt Things of more Consequence.
Lop. It's all pretty good, Sir; really good, Sir, as it can be in the world. But if you could have the kindness to think, just occasionally, about swords and daggers, and rivals and old friends, and pistols and big guns, and such trinkets, just now and then when you have some free time, Sir, without interrupting more important matters.
Don John. Thou art a cowardly Rascal, I have often consider'd that.
Don John. You are a cowardly jerk; I’ve thought about that a lot.
Lop. Ay, that's true, Sir; and yet a Blunderbuss is presently discharged out of a Garret-Window.
Lop. Yeah, that's true, Sir; but a Blunderbuss can still be fired from a garret window.
Don John. Come, no more Words, but follow me: How now! what Impertinence have we here now, to stop me?
Don John. Come on, no more talking, just follow me: What’s this nonsense that’s stopping me now?
Enter Don Pedro.
Enter Don Pedro.
Lop. 'Tis Don Pedro, or I'm a Dog.
Lop. It's Don Pedro, or I'm a fool.
Don John. Impossible! Don Pedro return'd!
Don John. No way! Don Pedro's back!
Don Ped. 'Tis I, my dearest Friend; I'm come to forget all the Miseries of a long Absence in one happy Embrace.
Don Ped. It's me, my dearest friend; I've come to forget all the hardships of a long absence in one happy embrace.
[They embrace.
They hug.
Don John. I'm overjoy'd to see you.
Don John. I'm so happy to see you.
Don Ped. Mine's not to be exprest. What, Friend Lopez here still! How dost do, Lopez? What, dost not know me?
Don Ped. It’s not my place to say. What, you're still here, Friend Lopez? How are you, Lopez? Don’t you recognize me?
Lop. As well as my Father's Seal, Sir, when he sends me a Bill of Exchange.
Lop. Along with my father's seal, Sir, when he sends me a bill of exchange.
Don Ped. Just as he was, I find, Galliard still.
Don Ped. Just as he was, I find, Galliard still.
Lop. I find it very unwholesome to be otherwise, Sir.
Lop. I think it’s really unhealthy to feel any other way, Sir.
Don John. You have then quitted the Service in Flanders, I suppose.
Don John. So, I guess you’ve left the Service in Flanders, right?
Don Ped. I have so, Friend! I have left the Ensigns of Mars, and am listing myself in a softer Militia.
Don Ped. I certainly have, my friend! I've put aside the symbols of Mars and I'm joining a gentler army.
Don John. Explain, pray.
Don John. Explain, please.
Don Ped. Why, when your Father's Death oblig'd you to leave Brussels, and return hither to the plentiful Fortune he left you; I stay'd in Flanders, very trist for your Lost, and past three Years in the Trade of War. About two Months since, my Father writ to me from Toledo, that he was going to marry me very advantageously at Valencia: He sent me the Picture of the Lady, and I was so well pleased with it, that I immediately got my Congé and embark'd at Dunkirk; I had a quick Passage to the Groyne, from whence, by the way of Madrid, I am come hither with all the Speed I cou'd. I have,[Pg 322] you must know, been two Days in Town, but I have lain Incognito, that I might inform myself of the Lady's Conduct I'm to marry; and I have discover'd, that she's serv'd by two Cavaliers of Birth and Merit. But tho' they have both given many Proofs of a most violent Passion, I have found, for the Quiet of my Honour, that this virtuous Lady, out of Modesty or Prudence, has shewn a perfect Indifference to them and their Gallantries; her Fortune is considerable, her Birth is high, her Manners irreproachable, and her Beauty so great, that nothing but my Love can equal it.
Don Ped. So, when your father's death forced you to leave Brussels and come back here to claim the wealth he left you, I stayed in Flanders, feeling really sad about your loss, and I spent the last three years in the military. About two months ago, my father wrote to me from Toledo that he was going to arrange a highly advantageous marriage for me in Valencia: he sent me a picture of the lady, and I was so pleased with it that I immediately got my Congé and set sail from Dunkirk; I had a quick journey to Groyne, and then made my way here through Madrid as fast as I could. I’ve been in town for two days now, but I’ve kept a low profile to learn about the behavior of the lady I’m meant to marry; I've discovered that she’s being pursued by two well-born and talented guys. However, even though they’ve both shown a lot of intense interest, I’ve found, for the sake of my honor, that this virtuous lady, either out of modesty or caution, has remained completely indifferent to them and their advances; her wealth is significant, her lineage is noble, her manners are impeccable, and her beauty is so remarkable that nothing but my love can match it.
Don John. I have hearken'd to you, Don Pedro, with a great deal of Attention, and Heaven's my Witness, I have a mighty Joy in seeing you; but the Devil fetch me, it makes my Heart bleed, to hear you are going to be married.
Don John. I've listened to you, Don Pedro, with a lot of attention, and I swear to God, I'm really happy to see you; but I swear, it breaks my heart to hear that you're getting married.
Don Ped. Say no more of that, I desire you; we have always been Friends, and I earnestly beg we ever may be so; but I am not come to ask Counsel about my Marriage; my Party is taken, and my Inquiries have so much heightened my Desire, that nothing can henceforth abate it. I must, therefore, expect from you, dear Friend, that you won't oppose it, but that you'll aid me in hast'ning the Moment of my Happiness.
Don Ped. Please don't say any more about that, I ask you; we've always been friends, and I really hope we always will be; but I'm not here to seek your advice about my marriage; my decision is made, and my inquiries have only increased my desire, so nothing can reduce it from now on. Therefore, I must count on you, dear friend, not to oppose me, but to help me make my happiness come sooner.
Don John. Since 'tis so impossible for you to resolve for your own Good, I must submit to what you'll have me: But are not we to know the Name of this Piece of Rarity, that is to do you this good Turn?
Don John. Since it’s so impossible for you to decide for your own good, I have to go along with what you want: But aren’t we supposed to know the name of this rare piece that is going to do you this favor?
Don Ped. You'll know it presently; for I'm going to carry you to her House.
Don Ped. You'll find out soon enough; I'm going to take you to her place.
Don John. You shall tell me, at least, who are her two Gallants.
Don John. You have to tell me, at least, who her two suitors are.
Don Ped. One, they cou'd not tell me his Name; t' other is——But before we talk any more of these Affairs, can you let me dispose of Lopez, till the Return of a Servant, I sent three Days ago to——
Don Ped. One, they couldn’t tell me his name; the other is——But before we discuss any more of this, can you let me take care of Lopez until the servant I sent three days ago returns to——
Don John. Carry News of you to Papa, I suppose.
Don John. I guess you’re going to tell Papa about this.
Don Ped. You are right; the good Man is thirty Leagues off, and I have not seen him these six Years.
Don Ped. You're right; the good man is thirty leagues away, and I haven't seen him in six years.
Don John. Lopez, do you wait upon Don Pedro.
Don John. Lopez, are you waiting on Don Pedro?
Lop. With all my Heart. It's at least a Suspension of Boxes of the Ear, and Kicks of the Backside.
Lop. With all my heart. It's at least a break from earfuls and kicks in the backside.
[Aside.
Aside.
Don Ped. Then, honest Lopez, with your Master's Leave, go to the New-Inn, the King of France on Horseback, and see if my Servant's return'd; I'll be there immediately, to charge thee with a Commission of more Importance.
Don Ped. Then, honest Lopez, with your Master's permission, head over to the New-Inn, where the King of France is on horseback, and check if my servant has come back; I'll join you shortly to give you a task of greater importance.
Lop. I shall perform your Orders, Sir, both to your Satisfaction, and my own Reputation.
Lop. I will carry out your orders, sir, to both your satisfaction and my own reputation.
[Exit Lopez.
[Exit Lopez.]
Don John. Very quaint. Well, old Acquaintance, you are going to be married then? 'Tis resolved: Ha!
Don John. Very quaint. So, old friend, you're getting married then? It’s settled? Ha!
Don Ped. So says my Star.
Don Ped. My star says so.
Don John. The foolishest Star that has said any Thing a great while.
Don John. The dumbest Star that has said anything in a long time.
Don Ped. Still the same, I see! Or, more than ever, resolv'd to love nothing.
Don Ped. Still the same, I see! Or, more determined than ever to love nothing.
Don John. Love nothing! Why, I'm in Love at this very Time.
Don John. Don’t love anything! Why, I’m in love right now.
Don Ped. With what?
Don Ped. With what now?
Don John. A Woman.
Don John. A Woman.
Don Ped. Impossible!
Don Ped. No way!
Don John. True.
Don John. True.
Don Ped. And how came you in love with her?
Don Ped. So, how did you fall in love with her?
Don John. Why, I was ordered not to be in love with her.
Don John. Well, I was told not to fall in love with her.
Don Ped. Then, there's more Humour than Love in't.
Don Ped. Then, there's more humor than love in it.
Don John. There shall be what you please in't. But I shan't quit the Gentlewoman, till I have convinced her there's something in't.
Don John. You can have whatever you want in it. But I won't give up on the lady until I prove there's something to it.
Don Ped. Mayn't I know her Name?
Don Ped. May I know her name?
Don John. When you have let me into your conjugal Affection.
Don John. When you've allowed me into your marital affection.
Don Ped. Pray, stay here but till I have sent Lopez to my Father-in-law; I'll come back, and carry you with me in a Moment.
Don Ped. Please, stay here just until I send Lopez to my father-in-law; I'll be back quickly to take you with me.
Don John. I'll expect you.
Don John. I'll expect you.
Don Ped. Adieu, dear Friend! May I in earnest see you quickly in Love!
Don Ped. Goodbye, dear friend! I really hope to see you soon in love!
[Exit Don Pedro.
[Exit Don Pedro.
Don John. May I, without a Jest, see you quickly a Widower.
Don John. May I, without joking, see you soon as a widower?
Don John solus.
Don John alone.
He comes, he says, to marry a Woman of Quality that has two Lovers——If it should be Leonora——But, why she? There are many, I hope, in that Condition in Valencia——I'm a little embarrass'd about it, however——
He says he’s here to marry a woman of high status who has two lovers—if it’s Leonora—but why her? I hope there are many in that situation in Valencia—I’m a bit uncertain about it, though—
Make sure the hour of your destruction is near.
[Exit.
[Close.
ACT II.
SCENE, Leonora's Apartment.
Enter Leonora, Isabella, and Jacinta.
Enter Leonora, Isabella, and Jacinta.
Leon. Dear Isabella, come in: How I am plagu'd with this troublesome Wretch! Jacinta, have you shut the outer Gates?
Leon. Dear Isabella, come in: I’m so annoyed with this troublesome person! Jacinta, did you close the outer gates?
Jacin. I have, Madam.
Jacin. I have, ma'am.
Leo. Shut the Window too; we shall have him get in there, by and bye.
Leo. Also, shut the window; we'll have him come in there eventually.
Isab. What's this you are in such Apprehensions of, pray?
Isab. What are you so worried about, if I may ask?
Leo. Nothing worth naming.
Leo. Nothing noteworthy.
Isab. You dissemble: Something of Love in the Case, I'll warrant you.
Isab. You're being deceptive: I'm sure there's something about love in this situation.
Leo. The Reverse on't; 'tis Aversion. My Impertinent Star has furnish'd me with a Lover for my Guard, who is never from my Window; he persecutes me to Distraction; I affront him fifty Times a day; which he receives with a Bow down to the Ground: In short, all I can do, is doing nothing at all: He still persists in loving me, as much as I hate him.
Leo. The opposite doesn’t work; it’s just a dislike. My annoying fate has given me a lover who always hangs around my window; he drives me crazy. I insult him fifty times a day, and he just bows down to the ground in response. In short, all I can do is absolutely nothing: he continues to love me just as much as I hate him.
Isab. Have a Care he don't get the better on't, for all that; for when a Man loves a Woman well enough[Pg 325] to persevere, 'tis odds but she at last loves him well enough to make him give it over. But I think I had as good take off my Scarf; for, since my Brother Don Guzman knows I'm with you, he won't quarrel at my return, for the Length of my Visit.
Isab. Be careful he doesn't win her over, though; because when a guy loves a girl enough to stick around, it’s likely she will eventually love him enough to make him stop trying. But I think I might as well take off my scarf; since my brother Don Guzman knows I'm with you, he won't complain about how long I've been gone.
Leo. If he shou'd, I shou'd quarrel with him, which few Things else wou'd make me do. But methinks, Isabella, you are a little melancholy.
Leo. If he did, I would argue with him, which would be something I rarely do. But I feel, Isabella, that you seem a bit down.
Isab. And you a little thoughtful.
Isab. And you seem a bit thoughtful.
Leo. Pray, tell me your Affliction.
Leo. Please, share your struggle.
Isab. Pray don't conceal yours.
Isab. Please don't hide yours.
Leo. Why, truly, my Heart is not at ease.
Leo. Honestly, my heart is not at peace.
Isab. Mine, I fear, never will.
Mine, I’m afraid, never will.
Leo. My Father's marrying me against my Inclination.
Leo. My dad is making me marry someone I don't want to.
Isab. My Brother is hind'ring me from marrying with mine.
Isab. My brother is stopping me from marrying my love.
Leo. You know I love your Brother, Don Guzman.
Leo. You know I love your brother, Don Guzman.
Isab. And you shall know, I'm uneasy for Don John de Alvarada.
Isab. And just so you know, I'm worried about Don John de Alvarada.
Leo. Don John!
Leo. Don John!
Isab. The same.
Isab. Same.
Leo. Have you any Reason to hope for a Return?
Leo. Do you have any reason to hope for a comeback?
Isab. I think so.
Sure, I think so.
Leo. I'm afraid, my Dear, you abuse yourself.
Leo. I'm worried that you're being too hard on yourself, my dear.
Isab. Why?
Isab. Why?
Leo. Because he is already in Love with——
Leo. Because he is already in love with——
Isab. Who?
Isab. Who's that?
Leo. Me.
Leo. Me.
Isab. I wou'd not have you too positive in that, Madam, for I am very sure that——
Isab. I wouldn't want you to be too certain about that, Madam, because I’m really sure that——
Leo. Madam, I am very sure that he's the troublesome Guest I just now complain'd of: And you may believe——
Leo. Ma'am, I'm pretty sure he's the annoying guest I just complained about. And you can believe—
Isab. Madam, I can never believe he's troublesome to any Body.
Isab. Ma'am, I can never believe he's a nuisance to anyone.
Leo. O, dear Madam! But I'm sure I'm forc'd to keep my Windows shut, till I'm almost dead with Heat; and that, I think, is troublesome.
Leo. Oh, dear Madam! But I'm sure I have to keep my windows shut until I'm almost dying from the heat; and that, I think, is a hassle.
Isab. This Mistake is easily set right, Leonora; our[Pg 326] Houses join, and when he looks at my Window, you fancy 'tis at your's.
Isab. This mistake is easy to fix, Leonora; our[Pg 326] houses are connected, and when he looks at my window, you think he’s looking at yours.
Leo. But, when he attacks my Door, Madam, and almost breaks it down, I don't know how in the World to fancy 'tis your's.
Leo. But when he bangs on my door, Madam, and nearly breaks it down, I can’t imagine for a second that it’s yours.
Isab. A Man may do that to disguise his real Inclination.
Isab. A man might do that to hide his true feelings.
Leo. Nay, if you please, believe he's dying for you. I wish he were; then I shou'd be troubled no more with him. Be sure, Jacinta, you don't open a Window to-night.
Leo. No, please, believe he’s dying for you. I wish he were; then I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Make sure, Jacinta, that you don’t open a window tonight.
Isab. Not while I'm here, at least; for if he knows that, he may chance to press in.
Isab. Not while I'm around, at least; because if he knows that, he might try to come in.
Leo. Look you, Isabella, 'tis entirely alike to me, who he's fond of; but I'm so much your Friend, I can't endure to see you deceiv'd.
Leo. Look, Isabella, I honestly don’t care who he likes; but I'm such a good friend to you that I can't stand to see you getting played.
Isab. And since I have the same Kindness for you, Leonora, know, in short, that my Brother is so alarm'd at his Passion for me, that he has forbid him the Street.
Isab. And since I feel the same way about you, Leonora, just know that my brother is so worried about his feelings for me that he has told him not to come anywhere near.
Leo. Bless my Soul! and don't you plainly see by that, he's jealous of him upon my Account?
Leo. Goodness! Can’t you see that he’s jealous of him because of me?
Isa. [Smiling.] He's jealous of his Honour, Madam, lest he shou'd debauch his Sister.
Isa. [Smiling.] He's jealous of his Honor, Madam, in case he should corrupt his Sister.
Leo. I say, he's jealous of his Love, lest he shou'd corrupt his Mistress.
Leo. I say, he's jealous of his love, afraid he might corrupt his mistress.
Isab. But why all this Heat? If you love my Brother, why are you concern'd Don John shou'd love me?
Isab. But why all this anger? If you love my brother, why do you care that Don John might love me?
Leo. I'm not concern'd: I have no Designs upon him; I care not who he loves.
Leo. I'm not worried; I have no intentions with him; I don't care who he loves.
Isab. Why then are you angry?
Isab. Why are you mad then?
Leo. Why do you say he does not care for me!
Leo. Why do you say he doesn’t care about me!
Isab. Well, to content you then, I know nothing certain, but that I love him.
Isab. Well, to satisfy you then, I don't know anything for sure, except that I love him.
Leo. And to content you; I know nothing so certain, as that I neither love him, nor ever can love him: And so I hope we are Friends again.
Leo. To put you at ease, I know for sure that I don't love him and I never will love him. So I'm hoping we can be friends again.
Isab. Kiss me, then, and let us never be otherwise.
Isab. Kiss me, then, and let’s never be any different.
Leo. Agreed: [They kiss.] And now, my Dear, as my Misfortune's nearest, I am first to be pity'd; I am the most wretched Woman living. My Father every Mo[Pg 327]ment expects a Gentleman from Flanders, to whom he has resolv'd to marry me. But neither Duty, nor Prudence, nor Danger, nor Resolution, nor all I can summon to my Aid, can drive your Brother from my Heart; but there he's fix'd to ruin me.
Leo. Agreed: [They kiss.] And now, my dear, as the person closest to my misfortune, I am the first to be pitied; I am the most miserable woman alive. My father expects a gentleman from Flanders any moment now, whom he has decided to marry me off to. But neither duty, nor caution, nor danger, nor determination, nor anything I can bring to help can drive your brother from my heart; he's firmly planted there to ruin me.
Jacin. Madam, here's Don Guzman at the Chamber-Door; he begs so passionately to come in, sure you can't refuse him.
Jacin. Madam, Don Guzman is at the door; he’s asking so earnestly to come in, you surely can’t turn him away.
Leo. Heav'ns! But does he consider to what he exposes me?
Leo. Oh my! But does he realize what he's putting me through?
Jacin. Madam, he considers nothing; if he did, I'd say he were an impudent Fellow, to pretend to be in Love with you.
Jacin. Ma'am, he doesn't think about anything; if he did, I'd say he was bold to act like he's in love with you.
Leo. Shall I venture, Isabella?
Leo. Should I go for it, Isabella?
Isab. You know best.
Isab. You know everything.
Enter Don Guzman.
Enter Don Guzman.
Jacin. Marry, methinks he knows best of us all, for here he comes.
Jacin. Honestly, I think he knows us all better than anyone else, because here he is.
Don Guz. Forgive me, lovely Leonora; 'tis the last Time, perhaps, that I may beg your Pity. My Rival is not far off: Excess of Modesty is now our Ruin. Break through it, for this Moment you have left, and own, to your old Father, how you love. He once did so himself; our Scene of Sorrow may, perhaps, recall some small Remembrance of his tender Years, and melt him into Mercy.
Don Guz. Forgive me, dear Leonora; this may be the last time I ask for your pity. My rival is nearby: our excessive modesty is ruining us. Break through it for this moment you have left and admit to your old father how you feel. He once did the same; our scene of sorrow might remind him of his tender years and soften his heart.
Leo. Alas! Don Guzman——
Leo. Oh no! Don Guzman——
Jacin. O Heavens! Madam——
Jacin. Oh my God! Madam——
Leo. What's the Matter?
Leo. What's wrong?
Jacin. Y' are undone; here's your Father.
Jacin. You're in trouble; here’s your dad.
Isab. What an unlucky Accident!
What a bad accident!
Leo. Has he seen Don Guzman?
Leo. Has he seen Don Guzman?
Jacin. Nay, the deuce knows.
Jacin. No way, who knows?
Isab. Where shall he hide himself?
Where should he hide?
Jacin. In the Moon, if he can get thither.
Jacin. In the Moon, if he can make it there.
Enter Don Felix.
Enter Don Felix.
Don Guz. I must e'en stand it now.
Don Guz. I have to deal with it now.
Don Fel. Good News, my Daughter, good News;[Pg 328] I come to acquaint you, that——How now? What's the Meaning of this? Don Guzman in my Daughter's Chamber!
Don Fel. Great news, my Daughter, great news;[Pg 328] I’m here to tell you that——Wait, what’s going on? Don Guzman is in my Daughter’s room!
Don Guz. I see your Surprize, Sir, but you need not be disturb'd; 'twas some sudden Business with my Sister brought me here.
Don Guz. I see you're surprised, Sir, but you don't need to be upset; it was some urgent matter with my sister that brought me here.
Don Fel. 'Tis enough, Sir: I'm glad to find you here; you shall be a Witness, that I know how to preserve the Honour of my Family.
Don Fel. That's enough, sir: I'm happy to see you here; you'll be a witness that I know how to uphold my family's honor.
Don Guz. What mean you, Sir?
Don Guz. What do you mean, Sir?
Don Fel. To marry Leonora this Moment.
Don Fel. To marry Leonora now.
Don Guz. How say you?
Don Guz. What do you say?
Don Fel. I say, you shall have nothing left to ask of me.
Don Fel. I'm telling you, you won't have anything left to ask of me.
Don Guz. Is't possible? O Heavens! what Joy I feel!
Don Guz. Is it possible? Oh my gosh! What joy I feel!
Don Fel. Leonora, prepare your Hand and Heart.
Don Fel. Leonora, get ready with your Hand and Heart.
Leo. They both are ready, Sir; and in giving me the Man I love, you charge me with a Debt of Gratitude can never be repay'd.
Leo. They are both ready, Sir; and by giving me the man I love, you place a debt of gratitude on me that can never be repaid.
Don Guz. [Kneeling.] Upon my Knees, I thank the best of Men, for blessing me with all that's blest in Woman.
Don Guz. [Kneeling.] On my knees, I thank the best of men for blessing me with everything wonderful in a woman.
Isab. How well that kind, that gentle Look becomes him!
Isab. That kind, gentle look suits him so well!
Jacin. Now, methinks he looks like an old Rogue; I don't like his Looks.
Jacin. Now, I think he looks like a shady character; I don't like the way he looks.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Enter Lopez.
Enter Lopez.
Lop. To all whom it may concern, greeting, Don Pedro Osorio, acknowledging himself most unworthy of the Honour intended him, in the Person of the fair Leonora, addresses himself, by me, his small Ambassador, to the Generosity of Don Felix, for leave to walk in and take Possession.
Lop. To everyone it may concern, hello, Don Pedro Osorio, admitting he's not deserving of the honor intended for him, in the person of the lovely Leonora, is reaching out through me, his humble ambassador, to the kindness of Don Felix, asking for permission to come in and take possession.
Don Fel. I had already given Order for his Entrance.
Don Fel. I had already instructed for his entry.
Don Guz. What is't I hear?
Don Guz. What am I hearing?
Leo. Support me.
Leo. Have my back.
Isab. She faints.
Isab. She passes out.
Don Guz. Look, Tyrant, here, and, if thou can'st, be cruel!
Don Guz. Look, Tyrant, here, and, if you can, be cruel!
[Holding her.
Holding her.
Don Fel. Bring in Don Pedro.
Don Fel. Bring in Don Pedro.
Don Guz. Barbarian!
Don Guz. Barbarian!
Jacin. Look up, Madam, for Heaven's sake; since you must marry the Fellow, e'en make the most on't.
Jacin. Look up, madam, for heaven's sake; since you have to marry the guy, you might as well make the best of it.
Leo. Hoh——
Leo. Hoh——
Enter Don Pedro and Don John.
Enter Don Pedro and Don John.
Jacin. So——How d'ye do now? Come, chear up. See, here he comes. By my Troth, and a pretty turn'd Fellow. [Aside.] He'll set all to rights by to-morrow Morning, I'll answer for him.
Jacin. So—How are you doing now? Come on, cheer up. Look, here he comes. By my word, he's a good-looking guy. [Aside.] He'll fix everything by tomorrow morning, I can guarantee that.
Don Fel. Don Pedro, you are welcome; let me embrace you.
Don Fel. Don Pedro, it's great to see you; let me hug you.
Don Ped. In what Terms, Sir, shall I express what I owe you for the Honour you do me? And with what Prospect of Return can I receive this inestimable Present? Your Picture, Madam, made what Impression Art cou'd stamp, but Nature has done more. What Wounds your Sex can give, or ours receive, I feel.
Don Ped. How should I thank you for the honor you've given me? And what can I offer in return for this priceless gift? Your portrait, ma'am, created an impact that art can achieve, but nature has done even more. I can feel the wounds your gender can inflict, or those we endure.
Don Fel. Come, Son, (for I'm in haste to call you so)——But what's this I see? Alvarada here! Whence, Sir, this Insolence; to come within my Doors, after you know what has past? Who brought you here?
Don Fel. Come on, Son, (I’m in a hurry to call you that)——But what’s this I see? Alvarado here! Where did this insolence come from, Sir, to show up at my place after everything that’s happened? Who brought you here?
Don Ped. 'Twas I, Sir.
Don Ped. It was me, Sir.
Don Fel. But do you know that he——
Don Fel. But do you know that he——
Don Ped. Sir, he's the best of my Friends.
Don Ped. Dude, he's the best of my friends.
Don Fel. But do you know, I say, that he wou'd——
Don Fel. But do you know, I’m saying that he would——
Don Ped. Hinder this Marriage, 'tis true.
Don Ped. Block this Marriage, it's true.
Don Fel. Yes, because he design'd——
Don Fel. Yes, because he planned——
Don Ped. I know his Design, Sir; 'tis to hinder all his Friends from marrying. Pray forgive him.
Don Ped. I know what he's trying to do, Sir; it's to stop all his friends from getting married. Please forgive him.
Don Fel. Then to prevent for ever his Designs here, come hither, Leonora, and give Don Pedro your Hand.
Don Fel. To stop his plans for good, come here, Leonora, and give Don Pedro your hand.
Don John. Keep down, my kindling Jealousy: I've something tortures me I never felt but now.
Don John. Calm down, my burning jealousy: there's something bothering me that I've never felt before.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Ped. [To Leo.] Why this Backwardness, Madam? Where a Father chooses, a Daughter may with Modesty approve. Pray, give me your Hand.
Don Ped. [To Leo.] Why this reluctance, Madam? If a father chooses, a daughter can modestly agree. Please, give me your hand.
Don Guz. I cannot see it.
Don Guz. I can't see it.
[Turning from 'em.
[Turning away from them.]
Don Fel. [To Leo. aside.] Are you distracted? Will you let him know your Folly? Give him your Hand, for Shame.
Don Fel. [To Leo. aside.] Are you out of it? Are you going to let him see your mistake? Shake his hand, for goodness' sake.
Leo. Hoh! Don Guzman, I am yours.
Leo. Hoh! Don Guzman, I'm yours.
[Sighing, and giving carelesly her Hand.
[Sighing and casually giving her hand.]
Don Guz. Madam!
Don Guz. Ma'am!
[Turning.
Turning.
Don Fel. What a fatal Slip!
Don Fel. What a deadly slip!
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Leo. 'Twas not to you I spoke, Sir.
Leo. I wasn't talking to you, Sir.
Don Ped. But him it was she nam'd, and thought on too, I fear. I'm much alarm'd.
Don Ped. But that's who she named, and I worry she was thinking about him too. I'm really concerned.
Don Fel. [To Leo.] Repair what you have done, and look more chearful on him.
Don Fel. [To Leo.] Fix what you’ve done, and be more cheerful around him.
Leo. Repair what you have done, and kill me.
Leo. Fix what you've done, and end my life.
Don Fel. Fool.
Don Fel. Fool.
Leo. Tyrant.
Leo. Dictator.
Jacin. A very hum-drum Marriage this.
Jacin. A very dull marriage.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don Guz. Pray, Sister, let's retire; for I can bear this Sight no longer.
Don Guz. Please, Sister, let’s step away; I can’t stand this sight any longer.
Isab. My Dear, farewel; I pity you, indeed.
Isab. My dear, goodbye; I truly feel for you.
Leo. I am indeed an Object of your Pity.
Leo. I really am someone you feel sorry for.
[Exit Don Guz. and Isab.
[Exit Don Guz. and Isab.
Don Fel. Come, Daughter, come, my Son, let's to the Church, and tie this happy Knot.
Don Fel. Come on, Daughter, come on, Son, let's go to the Church and tie this happy knot.
Don Ped. I'll wait upon you, Sir.
Don Ped. I'll wait for you, Sir.
[Exit Don Fel. leading Leo.
[Exit Don Fel. leading Leo.
Don John. I love her, and I'll love her still. Fate do thy worst, I'll on.
Don John. I love her, and I’ll keep loving her. Whatever fate throws at me, I’ll keep going.
[Aside.
Aside.
Don Ped. To name another Man, in giving me her Hand!
Don Ped. Another man, just to give me her hand!
Don John. [Aside.] How am I rackt and torn with Jealousy?
Don John. [Aside.] How am I tormented and torn apart by jealousy?
Don Ped. 'Tis doubtless so, Don Guzman has her Heart.
Don Ped. It's certainly true, Don Guzman has her heart.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Don John. [Aside.] The Bridegroom's thoughtful. The Lady's Trip has furnish'd him with some Matrimonial Reflections: They'll agree with him at this Time perhaps, better than my Company. I'll leave him. Don Pedro, adieu, we shall meet again at Night.
Don John. [Aside.] The Bridegroom's deep in thought. The Lady’s trip has given him some marital ideas: They might resonate with him right now more than my presence does. I’ll step away. Don Pedro, goodbye, we’ll catch up again tonight.
Don Ped. Pray stay: I have need of a Friend's Counsel.
Don Ped. Please stay: I need a friend's advice.
Don John. What, already!
Don John. What, already!
Don Ped. Already.
Don Ped. Already.
Don John. That's to say, you have already enough of Matrimony.
Don John. In other words, you've already had enough of marriage.
Don Ped. I scarce know what I have, nor am I sure of what I am.
Don Ped. I barely know what I have, and I'm not even sure of who I am.
Enter Lopez.
Enter Lopez.
Lop. An't please your Honour, yonder's your Man Bertrand just arriv'd; his Horse and he are so tired of one another, that they both came down upon the Pavement at the Stable-Door.
Lop. If it pleases your Honor, there’s your man Bertrand just arrived; his horse and he are so worn out from each other that they both collapsed on the pavement at the stable door.
Don Ped. [To Don John.] He brings News from my Father.
Don Ped. [To Don John.] He has news from my father.
Lop. I believe he does, and hasty News too; but if you stay till he brings it hither, I believe it will come but slowly. But here's his Packet; I suppose that will do as well as his Company.
Lop. I think he does, and quickly too; but if you wait for him to bring it here, I think it will take a while. But here’s his package; I assume that will be just as good as having him here.
[Gives a Letter.
[Hands over a letter.
Don Ped. [Reads to himself.] My dear friend, here's ill News.
Don Ped. [Reads to himself.] My dear friend, I have bad news.
Don John. What's the Matter?
Don John. What's up?
Don Ped. My poor old Father's dying.
Don Ped. My poor old dad's dying.
Don John. I'm mighty sorry for't; 'tis a weighty Stroke I must confess; the Burden of his Estate will almost bear you down. But we must submit to Heaven's good Will.
Don John. I'm really sorry about this; it's a heavy blow, I have to admit; the weight of his estate will almost crush you. But we must accept Heaven's will.
Don Ped. You talk, Alvarada, like a perfect Stranger to that Tenderness methinks every Son shou'd feel for a good Father: For my part, I've receiv'd such repeated Proofs of an uncommon Affection from mine, that the Loss of a Mistress could scarce touch me nearer. You'll believe me, when you see me leave Leonora a Virgin, till I have seen the good old Man.
Don Ped. You speak, Alvarada, as if you're a complete stranger to the love that every son should have for a good father. For me, I've experienced such consistent proof of my father's remarkable affection that losing a mistress wouldn't affect me as much. You'll understand when you see me leave Leonora a virgin until I've visited the old man.
Don John. That will be a Proof, indeed; Heaven's Blessing must needs fall upon so dutiful a Son; but I don't know how its Judgments may deal with so indifferent a Lover.
Don John. That will definitely be proof; Heaven's blessing has to fall on such a devoted son; but I don't know how its judgments will handle such an indifferent lover.
Don Ped. O! I shall have Time enough to repair this seeming small Neglect: But before I go, pray a Word or two with you alone. Lopez, wait without. [Exit Lop.] You see, my dearest Friend, I am engag'd with Leonora; perhaps I have done wrong; but 'tis gone too far, to talk or think of a Retreat; I shall I go directly from this Place to the Altar, and there seal the eternal Contract.[Pg 332] That done, I'll take Post to see my Father, if I can, before he dies. I leave then here a young and beauteous Bride; but that which touches every String of Thought, I fear, I leave her wishing I were Guzman. If it be so, no doubt he knows it well; and he that knows he's lov'd by Leonora, can let no fair Occasion pass to gain her; my Absence is his Friend, but you are mine, and so the Danger's balanc'd. Into your Hands, my Dear, my faithful Alvarada, [Embracing him.] I put my Honour, I put my Life; for both depend on Leonora's Truth. Observe her Lover, and——neglect not her. You are wise, you are active, you are brave and true. You have all the Qualities that Man shou'd have for such a Trust; and I by consequence have all the Assurance Man can have, you'll, as you ought, discharge it.
Don Ped. O! I’ll have enough time to fix this small oversight. But before I leave, I need a word or two with you alone. Lopez, wait outside. [Exit Lop.] You see, my dearest friend, I’m committed to Leonora; maybe I've messed up, but it’s too late to back out now. I’ll head straight from here to the altar and seal the eternal contract there.[Pg 332] Once that’s done, I’ll rush to see my father if I can before he passes away. So here I leave a young and beautiful bride; but what troubles me most is that I leave her wishing I were Guzman. If that’s the case, no doubt he knows it well; and a man who knows he’s loved by Leonora won’t miss any chance to win her over. My absence benefits him, but you are my ally, so the danger is balanced. Into your hands, my dear, my loyal Alvarada, [Embracing him.] I entrust my honor and my life; both depend on Leonora's loyalty. Watch over her lover, and——don’t neglect her. You’re wise, capable, brave, and true. You have all the qualities a man should have for such a responsibility; thus, I’m completely confident you will handle it as you should.
Don John. A very hopeful Business you wou'd have me undertake, keep a Woman honest!—'Sdeath, I'd as soon undertake to keep Portocarero honest. Look you, we are Friends, intimate Friends; you must not be angry if I talk freely. Women are naturally bent to Mischief, and their Actions run in one continued Torrent till they die. But the less a Torrent's check'd, the less Mischief it does; let it alone, perhaps 'twill only kiss the Banks and pass; but stop it, 'tis insatiable.
Don John. What a hopeful business you want me to take on—keeping a woman honest! Honestly, I'd rather try to keep Portocarero honest. Look, we're friends, close friends; don't be mad if I speak my mind. Women are naturally inclined to cause trouble, and their actions just keep flowing until they die. But the less you control that flow, the less trouble it causes; leave it be, and maybe it will just kiss the banks and move on, but if you try to stop it, it's unstoppable.
Don Ped. I wou'd not stop it; but cou'd I gently turn its Course where it might run, and vent itself with Innocence, I wou'd. Leonora of herself is virtuous; her Birth, Religion, Modesty and Sense, will guide her Wishes where they ought to point. But yet, let Guards be what they Will, that Place is safest that is ne'er attack'd.
Don Ped. I wouldn’t stop it; but if I could gently steer its path so it could flow freely and express itself without guilt, I would. Leonora is naturally virtuous; her background, faith, modesty, and wisdom will guide her desires in the right direction. However, no matter what precautions are taken, the safest place is one that is never attacked.
Don John. As far as I can serve you, in hind'ring Guzman's Approaches, you may command me.
Don John. As much as I can help you in stopping Guzman's advances, you can count on me.
Don Ped. That's all I ask.
Don Ped. That's all I need.
Don John. Then all you ask is granted.
Don John. Then everything you ask for is yours.
Don Ped. I am at ease, farewel.
Don Ped. I'm good, goodbye.
Don John. Heaven bring you safe to us again.
Don John. May heaven bring you back to us safely.
[Exit Don Ped.
[Exit Don Ped.
Don John solus.
Don John alone.
Yes, I shall observe her, doubt it not. I wish no body may observe me, for I find I'm no more Master of myself. Don Guzman's Passion for her adds to mine; but when I think on what Don Pedro will reap, I'm Fire and Flame. Something must be done: What, let Love direct, for I have nothing else to guide me.
Yes, I'll keep an eye on her, no doubt about it. I just hope no one keeps an eye on me, because I realize I'm not in control of myself anymore. Don Guzman's feelings for her only make my own feelings stronger; but when I think about what Don Pedro will gain, I'm burning with anger. Something needs to be done: What, let Love decide, because I have no other compass to guide me.
Enter Lopez.
Enter Lopez.
Lop. [Aside.] Don Pedro is mounting for his Journey, and leaves a young, warm, liquorish Hussy with a watry Mouth, behind him——Hum—If she falls handsomely in my Master's Way, let her look to her——hist—there he is. Doing what? Thinking? That's new. And if any Good comes on't, that will be newer still.
Lop. [Aside.] Don Pedro is getting ready for his journey and leaves a young, eager girl with a longing look behind him——Hmm—If she happens to cross my Master's path, she better watch out——shh—there he is. What’s he doing? Thinking? That’s different. And if any good comes from it, that would be even more surprising.
Don John. [Aside.] How! Abuse the Trust a Friend reposes in me? And while he thinks me waking for his Peace, employ the stretch of Thought to make him wretched?
Don John. [Aside.] What! Betray the trust a friend has in me? And while he believes I am awake for his peace, use my thoughts to make him miserable?
Lop. Not to interrupt your pious Meditations, Sir, pray have you seen——Seen what, Fool? Why he can't see thee. I'gad, I believe the little blind Bastard has whipt him through the Heart in earnest.
Lop. Not to interrupt your serious thoughts, Sir, but have you seen——Seen what, Fool? Why, he can't see you. I swear, I think the little blind idiot has actually stabbed him right through the heart.
Don John. [Aside.] Pedro wou'd never have done this by me——How do I know that?——Why——he swore he was my Friend——Well; and I swore I was his——Why then if I find I can break my Oath, why should not I conclude he will do as much by his?
Don John. [Aside.] Pedro would never have done this to me—How do I know that?—Because he swore he was my friend—Well, and I swore I was his—So if I find I can break my oath, why shouldn’t I think he’ll do the same with his?
Lop. [Aside.] His Countenance begins to clear up: I suppose Things may be drawing to a Conclusion.
Lop. [Aside.] His expression is starting to improve: I guess things might be coming to an end.
Don John. [Aside.] Ay, 'tis just so: And I don't believe he wou'd have debated the Matter half so long as I have done: I'gad I think I have put myself to a great Expence of Morality about it. I'm sure, at least, my Stock's out. But I have a Fund of Love, I hope may last a little longer. O, are you there, Sir!
Don John. [Aside.] Yeah, that's exactly it: And I really don't think he would have thought about this nearly as long as I have: Honestly, I feel like I've spent a lot of my moral energy on it. I'm sure, at least, I'm all out. But I hope my reserve of love can last a bit longer. Oh, are you there, Sir!
[Seeing Lop.
Seeing Lop.
Lop. I think so, Sir; I won't be positive in any thing.
Lop. I think so, sir; I can't be completely sure about anything.
Don John. Follow me: I have some Business to employ you in, you'll like.
Don John. Follow me: I have some work for you that I think you'll enjoy.
[Exit Don John.
[Exit Don John.]
Lop. I won't be positive in that neither. I guess what you are going about—There's Roguery a-foot: This is at Leonora, who I know hates him; nothing under a Rape will do't——He'll be hang'd——And then, what becomes of thee, my little Lopez?——Why, the Honour to a——dingle dangle by him. Which he'll have the Good-nature to be mighty sorry for. But I may chance to be beforehand with him: If we are not taken in the Fact, they'll perhaps do him the Honour to set a Reward upon his Head. Which if they do, Don, I shall go near to follow your moral Example, secure my Pardon, make my Fortune, and hang you up for the Good of your Country.
Lop. I won’t be sure about that either. I guess I know what you’re getting at—There’s some shady business going on: This is about Leonora, who I know can’t stand him; nothing less than a crime will take care of it——He’ll get hanged——And then, what happens to you, my little Lopez?——Well, the honor to a——dingle dangle by him. Which he’ll be nice enough to feel really bad about. But I might just beat him to it: If we’re not caught red-handed, they might do him the honor of putting a bounty on his head. If they do, Don, I might just follow your moral example, secure my pardon, make my fortune, and hang you up for the good of your country.
[Exit.
Exit.
ACT III.
SCENE, Don Felix's House.
Enter Don Felix, Don Pedro, Leonora, and Jacinta.
Enter Don Felix, Don Pedro, Leonora, and Jacinta.
Don Fel. How, Son! oblig'd to leave us immediately, say you?
Don Fel. How, Son! you have to leave us right away, you say?
Don Ped. My ill Fortune, Sir, will have it so.
Don Ped. My bad luck, Sir, has made it this way.
Leo. [Aside.] What can this be?
Leo. [Aside.] What's going on?
Don Fel. Pray, what's the Matter? You surprise me.
Don Fel. Please, what's going on? You caught me off guard.
Don Ped. This Letter, Sir, will inform you.
Don Ped. This letter will let you know, Sir.
Don Fel. [Reads.] My dear Son, Bertrand has brought me the welcome News of your Return, and has given me your Letter; which has in some Sort reviv'd my Spirits in the Extremity I am in. I daily expect my Exit from this World. 'Tis now six Years since I have seen you; I shou'd be glad to do it once again before I die: If you will give me that Satisfaction, you must be speedy. Heaven preserve you.
Don Fel. [Reads.] My dear Son, Bertrand has brought me the great news of your return and has given me your letter, which has somewhat lifted my spirits in this difficult time. I’m expecting to leave this world any day now. It’s been six years since I’ve seen you; I would love to see you once more before I die. If you want to make that happen, you need to hurry. God bless you.
[To Don Ped.] 'Tis enough: The Occasion I'm sorry[Pg 335] for, but since the Ties of Blood and Gratitude oblige you, far be it from me to hinder you. Farewel, my Son, may you have a happy Journey; and if it be Heaven's Will, may the sight of so good a Son revive so kind a Father. I leave you to bid your Wife adieu.
[To Don Ped.] That's enough: I'm sorry for the occasion[Pg 335] but since family ties and gratitude require you to go, I won’t stop you. Bye, my Son, I hope you have a safe journey; and if it’s God's will, may seeing such a good Son uplift a kind Father. I’ll let you say goodbye to your wife.
[Exit Don Fel.
[Exit Don Fel.
Don Ped. I must leave you, my lovely Bride; but 'tis with bitter Pangs of Separation. Had I your Heart to chear me on my Way, I might with such a Cordial run my Course: But that Support you want the Power to give me.
Don Ped. I have to leave you, my beautiful Bride; but it’s with a heavy heart. If I had your love to encourage me on my journey, I could face anything. But that kind of support is something you don’t have the ability to give me.
Leo. Who tells you so?
Leo. Who says that?
Don Ped. My Eyes and Ears, and all the Pains I bear.
Don Ped. My Eyes and Ears, and all the Pain I go through.
Leo. When Eyes and Ears are much indulg'd, like favourite Servants they are apt to abuse the too much Trust their Master places in 'em.
Leo. When our senses of sight and hearing are overly pampered, like favored servants, they tend to take advantage of the excessive trust their master puts in them.
Don Ped. If I'm abus'd, assist me with some fair Interpretation of all that present Trouble and Disquiet, which is not in my Power to overlook, nor yours to hide.
Don Ped. If I'm being treated unfairly, help me with a reasonable explanation for all this current trouble and unrest, which I can’t ignore, and you can’t conceal.
Leo. You might methinks have spar'd my Modesty; and without forcing me to name your Absence, have laid my Trouble there.
Leo. You might have spared my feelings; and without making me mention your absence, could have placed my worries there.
Don Ped. No, no, my Fair Deluder, that's a Veil too thin to cover what's so hard to hide; my Presence not my Absence is the Cause. Your cold Reception at my first Approach, prepar'd me for the Stroke; and 'twas not long before your Mouth confirmed my Doom: Don Guzman, I am yours.
Don Ped. No, no, my beautiful deceiver, that's too thin a veil to hide what’s so difficult to conceal; it’s my presence, not my absence, that’s the problem. Your chilly welcome when I first approached me set me up for this blow; and it wasn’t long before your words sealed my fate: Don Guzman, I am yours.
Leo. Is't then possible the Mouth shou'd utter one Name for another?
Leo. Is it really possible for the mouth to say one name instead of another?
Don Ped. Not at all, when it follows the Dictates of the Heart.——
Don Ped. Not at all, when it follows the dictates of the heart.——
Leo. Were it even so, what Wrong is from that Heart receiv'd, where Duty and where Virtue are its Rulers?
Leo. Even if that were true, what wrong could come from a heart where Duty and Virtue are in charge?
Don Ped. Where they preside, our Honour may be safe, yet our Minds be on the Rack.
Don Ped. Where they hold authority, our honor may be secure, yet our minds are in turmoil.
Leo. This Discourse will scarce produce a Remedy; we'll end it, therefore, if you please, and leave the rest to Time: Besides, the Occasion of your Journey presses you.
Leo. This discussion is unlikely to offer a solution; let’s wrap it up, then, if that works for you, and leave the rest to Time. Besides, your reason for traveling is urgent.
Don Ped. The Occasion of my Delay presses you, I fear, much more; you count the tedious Minutes I am with you, and are reduc'd to mind me of my Duty, to free yourself from my Sight.
Don Ped. I worry that my delay is bothering you much more; you’re counting the long minutes I’m with you and feel compelled to remind me of my responsibility to leave your presence.
Leo. You urge this thing too far, and do me wrong. The Sentiments I have for you are much more favourable than your Jealousy suffers 'em to appear. But if my Heart has seem'd to lean another way, before you had a Title to it, you ought not to conclude I shall suffer it to do so long.
Leo. You're pushing this too far and it's unfair to me. The feelings I have for you are actually much stronger than your jealousy lets you see. But if my heart seemed to lean towards someone else before you had any claim to it, you shouldn't assume that I'll let it stay that way for long.
Don Ped. I know you have Virtue, Gratitude and Truth; and therefore 'tis I love you to my Ruin. Cou'd I believe you false, Contempt would soon release me from my Chains, which yet I can't but wish to wear for ever: therefore indulge at least your Pity to your Slave; 'tis the soft Path in which we tread to Love. I leave behind a tortur'd Heart to move you:
Don Ped. I know you have virtue, gratitude, and truth; and that's why I love you to my ruin. If I could believe you were untrue, disdain would quickly free me from my chains, which I still can't help but wish to wear forever. So at least show some pity for your slave; it’s the gentle path we follow to love. I leave behind a tortured heart to move you:
Keep in mind that all its suffering comes from you; }
And if you can't love, at least be honest. }
[Exit Don Pedro.
[Exit Don Pedro.
Jacin. Now by my troth, Madam, I'm ready to cry. He's a pretty Fellow, and deserves better Luck.
Jacin. Honestly, Madam, I'm about to cry. He's a nice guy and deserves better luck.
Leo. I own he does: And his Behaviour wou'd engage any thing that were unengag'd. But, alas! I want his Pity more than he does mine.
Leo. I think he does: And the way he acts would captivate anyone who isn't already taken. But, sadly! I need his compassion more than he needs mine.
Jacin. You do! Now I'm of another Mind. The Moment he sees your Picture, he's in love with you; the Moment he's in love with you, he imbarks; and, like Lightning, in a Moment more, he's here: Where you are pleas'd to receive him with a Don Guzman, I am yours. Ah——poor Man!
Jacin. You really do! Now I've changed my mind. The moment he sees your picture, he’s in love with you; as soon as he’s in love with you, he sets off; and just like that, in no time, he’s here: where you’re happy to welcome him with a “Don Guzman, I am yours.” Ah—poor guy!
Leo. I own, Jacinta, he's unfortunate, but still I say my Fate is harder yet. The irresistible Passion I have for Guzman, renders Don Pedro, with all his Merit, odious to me; yet I must in his favour, make eternal War against the Strength of Inclination and the Man I love.
Leo. I own, Jacinta, he's unfortunate, but I still say my situation is even tougher. The unavoidable passion I feel for Guzman makes Don Pedro, despite all his qualities, unbearable to me; yet, I must constantly battle against my feelings for the man I love in favor of him.
Jac. [Aside.] Um——If I were in her Case, I cou'd find an Expedient for all this Matter. But she makes such a Bustle with her Virtue, I dare not propose it to her.
Jac. [Aside.] Um—If I were in her position, I could come up with a solution for all this. But she makes such a fuss about her virtue, I can't suggest it to her.
Leo. Besides, Don Pedro possesses what he loves, but I must never think on poor Don Guzman more.
Leo. Besides, Don Pedro has what he loves, but I must never think about poor Don Guzman anymore.
[Weeping.
Crying.
Jac. Poor Don Guzman, indeed! We han't said a Word of the Pickle he's in yet. Hark! somebody knocks——at the old Rendezvous. It's he, on my Conscience.
Jac. Poor Don Guzman, for sure! We haven't mentioned the mess he's in yet. Listen! someone is knocking——at the old meeting spot. It's him, I swear.
Leo. Let's be gone; I must think of him no more.
Leo. Let's leave; I can’t think about him any longer.
Jac. Yes, let's be gone; but let's know whether 'tis he or not, first.
Jac. Yeah, let's leave, but first let’s find out if it's him or not.
Leo. No, Jacinta; I must not speak with him any more. [Sighing.] I'm married to another.
Leo. No, Jacinta; I can't talk to him anymore. [Sighing.] I'm married to someone else.
Jac. Married to another! Well, Married to another; why, if one were married to twenty others, one may give a civil Gentleman an Answer.
Jac. Married to someone else! Well, married to someone else; why, even if one were married to twenty others, one can still give a polite gentleman an answer.
Leo. Alas! what would'st thou have me to say to him?
Leo. Oh no! What do you want me to tell him?
Jac. Say to him! Why, one may find twenty Things to say to a Man: Say, that 'tis true you are married to another, and that 'twould be a—Sin to think of any Body but your Husband; and that——you are of a timorous Nature, and afraid of being damn'd; and that a——You wou'd not have him die neither: That a——Folks are mortal, and Things sometimes come strangely about, and a Widow's a Widow, and——
Jac. Tell him! There are plenty of things to say to a guy: Like, it's true you're married to someone else, and it would be a sin to think about anyone but your husband; and that—you’re a bit timid and scared of going to hell; and that—you wouldn’t want him to die either. People are mortal, and things can turn out weird sometimes, and a widow is still a widow, and—
Leo. Peace, Levity [Sighing.] But see who 'tis knocks.
Leo. Relax, keep it light [Sighing.] But look who's knocking.
Jac. Who's there?
Who's there?
Isa. [Behind the Scenes.] 'Tis I, Isabella.
Isa. [Behind the Scenes.] It's me, Isabella.
Leo. Isabella! What do you want, my Dear?
Leo. Isabella! What do you need, my dear?
Isa. Your Succour, for Heaven's sake, Leonora. My Brother will destroy himself.
Isa. Please help me, for Heaven's sake, Leonora. My brother is going to destroy himself.
Leo. Alas! it is not in my power to save him.
Leo. Sorry, I can't save him.
Isa. Permit him but to speak to you; that possibly may do.
Isa. Just let him talk to you; that might help.
Leo. Why have not I the Force to refuse him?
Leo. Why can't I resist him?
Don Guz. [Behind the Scenes.] Is it you I hear, my poor lost Mistress? Am I so happy, once more to meet you, where I so often have been blest!
Don Guz. [Behind the Scenes.] Is that you I hear, my poor lost Mistress? Am I really so happy to meet you again, in this place where I've been so often blessed!
Jac. Courage, Madam, say a little something to him.
Jac. Come on, Madam, say something to him.
Don Guz. Not one kind Word to a distracted Lover? No Pity for a Wretch, you have made so miserable?
Don Guz. Not a single kind word for a confused lover? No compassion for a wretch you've made so miserable?
Leo. The only Way to end that Misery, is to forget we ever thought of Happiness!
Leo. The only way to get rid of that misery is to forget we ever thought about happiness!
Don Guz. And is that in your Power? Ah, Leonora, you ne'er lov'd like me.
Don Guz. And is that in your power? Ah, Leonora, you never loved like I do.
Leo. How I have lov'd, to Heaven I appeal! But Heaven does now permit that Love no more.
Leo. How I have loved, I swear to Heaven! But Heaven no longer allows that Love.
Don Guz. Why does it then permit us Life and Thought? Are we deceiv'd in its Omnipotence? Is it reduc'd to find its Pleasures in its Creatures Pain?
Don Guz. Why does it then allow us Life and Thought? Are we misled by its Omnipotence? Is it reduced to finding its pleasures in the pain of its creations?
Leo. In what, or where, the Joys of Heaven consist, lies deeper than a Woman's Line can fathom; but this we know, a Wife must in her Husband seek for hers, and, therefore, I must think of you no more.——Farewel.
Leo. The Joys of Heaven are more profound than what a woman can understand; but we do know that a wife must find her happiness in her husband, and so I must stop thinking about you.——Goodbye.
[Exit Leo.
[Exit Leo.
Don Guz. Yet hear me, cruel Leonora.
Don Guz. Yet hear me, cruel Leonora.
Jac. It must be another Time, then, for she's whipt off now. All the Comfort I can give you, is, that I see she durst not trust herself any longer in your Company. But hush, I hear a Noise, get you gone; we shall be catch'd.
Jac. It must be another time, then, because she’s gone now. The only comfort I can give you is that I can see she’s too scared to stay around you anymore. But quiet down, I hear something; you need to leave; we’re going to get caught.
Leo. [Within.] Jacinta!
Leo. [Inside.] Jacinta!
Jac. I come, I come, Madam.
I’m coming, Madam.
[Exit Jac.
[Exit Jac.
Enter Lopez.
Enter Lopez.
Lop. If I mistake not, there are a Brace of Lovers intend to take some Pains about Madam, in her Husband's Absence. Poor Don Pedro! Well; methinks a Man's in a very merry Mood, that marries a handsome Wife: When I dispose of my Person, it shall be to an ugly one. They take it so kindly, and are so full of Acknowledgment; watch you, wait upon you, nurse you, humour you, are so fond, and so chaste. Or, if the Hussy has Presumption enough to think of being otherwise, away with her into the Mountains, fifty Leagues off; no Body opposes. If she's mutinous, give her Discipline; every Body approves on't. Hang her, says one, he's kinder than she deserves: Damn her, says another, why does not he starve her? But, if she's handsome, Ah, the Brute, cries one: Ah the Turk, cries t'other: Why don't she cuckold him, says this Fellow? Why[Pg 339] does not she poison him, says that? and away comes a Pacquet of Epistles, to advise her to't. Ah poor Don Pedro! But enough: 'Tis now Night, all's hush and still: every Body's a-bed, and what am I to do? Why, as other trusty Domesticks, sit up to let the Thief in. But I suppose he won't be here yet; with the help of a small Nap beforehand, I shall be in a better Condition to perform the Duty of a Centinel, when I go to my Post. This Corner will just fit me: Come, Lopez, lie thee down, short Prayers, and to sleep.
Lop. If I'm not mistaken, there are a couple of lovers planning to make an effort with Madam while her husband is away. Poor Don Pedro! Well, it seems to me that a man must be in a pretty good mood to marry a beautiful wife. When I choose my partner, it will definitely be someone unattractive. They appreciate it so much and are so grateful; they watch over you, take care of you, indulge you, are so affectionate, and so loyal. Or, if the girl has the audacity to think otherwise, off she goes to the mountains, fifty leagues away; nobody objects. If she's rebellious, give her some discipline; everyone will approve. "Hang her," one says, "he’s kinder than she deserves." "Damn her," says another, "why doesn’t he let her starve?" But if she’s good-looking, "Ah, the brute!" cries one. "Ah, the Turk!" another exclaims. "Why doesn’t she cheat on him?" asks this guy. "Why doesn’t she poison him?" says that one. And soon, a bundle of letters arrives, advising her to do just that. Ah, poor Don Pedro! But enough: It’s night now, everything is quiet and still; everyone’s in bed, so what am I supposed to do? Well, like any good servant, I wait up to let the thief in. But I guess he won’t be here yet; with a quick nap beforehand, I’ll be in better shape to stand guard when it’s time for my watch. This corner will work just fine for me: Come on, Lopez, lie down, say a few short prayers, and then sleep.
[He lies down.
He lays down.
Enter Jacinta with a Candle in her Hand.
Enter Jacinta with a candle in her hand.
Jac. So, I have put my poor Lady to Bed, with nothing but Sobs, Tears, Sighs, Wishes, and a Pillow to mumble, instead of a Bridegroom, poor Heart.——I pity her; but every Body has their Afflictions, and by the Beads of my Grandmother, I have mine. Tell me, kind Gentlemen, if I have not something to excite you? Methinks I have a rogueish Eye, I'm sure I have a melting Heart. I'm soft, and warm, and sound, may it please ye. Whence comes it then, this Rascal Lopez, who now has been two Hours in the Family, has not yet thought it worth his while, to make one Motion towards me? Not that the Blockhead's Charms have moved me, but I'm angry mine han't been able to move him. I doubt, I must begin with the Lubber: my Reputation's at stake upon't, and I must rouze the Drone, somehow.
Jac. So, I’ve put my poor lady to bed, with nothing but sobs, tears, sighs, wishes, and a pillow to mumble into, instead of a groom, poor thing. I feel for her, but everyone has their troubles, and by my grandmother's beads, I've got mine too. Tell me, kind gentlemen, don’t I have something to get your attention? I think I have a mischievous look, and I definitely have a soft heart. I’m gentle, warm, and ready, if you please. So why is this rascal Lopez, who has been in the family for two hours, not even made a move towards me? Not that the fool's charms have affected me, but I’m annoyed mine haven’t caught his eye. I guess I’ll have to start with the lout: my reputation's on the line, and I need to wake the lazy one up, somehow.
Lopez rubbing his Eyes, and coming on.
Lopez rubbing his eyes and approaching.
Lop. What a damn'd Condition is that of a Valet! No sooner do I, in comfortable Slumber, close my Eyes, but methinks my Master's upon me, with fifty Slaps o' th' Back, for making him wait in the Street. I have his Orders to let him in here to-night, and so I had e'en——Who's that?——Jacinta!——Yes, a-caterwauling!—like enough.
Lop. What a terrible situation it is to be a servant! No sooner do I drift off into a comfortable sleep than I imagine my boss is on my case, giving me a bunch of slaps on the back for making him wait outside. I have his instructions to let him in here tonight, and so I had just—Who's that?—Jacinta!—Yes, making a racket!—could be.
Jac. The Fellow's there; I had best not lose the Occasion.
Jac. The guy's right there; I should take this opportunity.
Lop. The Slut's handsome. I begin to kindle: But if my master shou'd be at the Door——Why there let him be, till the Matter's over.
Lop. The slut's attractive. I start to get excited: But if my master should be at the door—Well, let him wait until this is all done.
[Aside.
Aside.
Jac. Shall I advance?
Jac. Should I go ahead?
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Lop. Shall I venture?
Lop. Should I go for it?
[Aside.
[By the way.
Jac. How severe a Look he has!
Jac. What a stern look he has!
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Lop. She seems very reserv'd.
She seems very reserved.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Jac. If he shou'd put the Negative upon me.
Jac. If he puts the negative on me.
[Aside.
[By the way.
Lop. She seems a Woman of great Discretion; I tremble.
Lop. She seems like a woman with a lot of discretion; I'm nervous.
[Aside.
[By the way.
Jac. Hang it, I must venture.
Hang it, I must try.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Lop. Faint Heart never won fair Lady.
Lop. A timid heart never won a fair lady.
[Aside.
Aside.
Jac. Lopez!
Jac. Lopez!
Lop. Jacinta!
Lop. Jacinta!
Jac. O dear Heart! Is't you?
Oh dear heart! Is that you?
Lop. Charming Jacinta, fear me not.
Lop. Charming Jacinta, don't be afraid.
Jac. O ho! he begins to talk soft——then let us take upon us again.
Jac. Oh wow! He starts to speak softly—then let's take it on again.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Lop. Cruel Jacinta, whose Mouth (small as it is) has made but one Morsel of my Heart.
Lop. Cruel Jacinta, whose mouth (as small as it is) has turned my heart into a single morsel.
Jac. It's well he prevents me. I was going to leap about the Rascal's Neck.
Jac. It's good that he stops me. I was about to jump around the Rascal's Neck.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Lop. Barbare Jacinta, cast your Eyes On your poor Lopez, ere he dies.
Lop. Barbare Jacinta, look at your poor Lopez before he dies.
Jac. Poetry too! Nay then I have done his Business.
Jac. Poetry too! Well then, I've taken care of his business.
[Aside.
[By the way.]
Lop. Feel how I burn with hot desire, Ah! pity me, and quench my Fire. Deaf, my fair Tyrant, deaf to my Woes! Nay, then, Barbarian, in it goes.
Lop. Feel how I burn with intense desire, Ah! have mercy on me and put out my fire. Unmoved, my beautiful tyrant, unresponsive to my pain! Well then, savage, here it goes.
[Drawing a Knife.
[Pulling Out a Knife.
Jac. Why, how now, Jack Sauce? why, how now, Presumption? What Encouragement have I given you, Jack-a-lent, to attack me with your Tenders? I cou'd tear your Eyes out, Sirrah, for thinking I'm such a one. What Indecency have you seen in my Behaviour, Impudence, that you shou'd think me for your beastly Turn, you Goat, you?
Jac. What's up, Jack Sauce? What’s with the attitude? What made you think it was okay to come at me with your feelings? I could punch your lights out, you know, for thinking I’m that kind of person. What did you see in my behavior, you rude creep, that made you think I’d go for your disgusting ways, you goat?
Lop. Patience, my much offended Goddess, 'tis honourably I wou'd share your Bed.
Lop. Patience, my deeply offended Goddess, I would honorably share your bed.
Jac. Peace, I say—Mr. Liquorish. I, for whom the most successful Cavaliers employ their Sighs in vain, shall I look down upon a crawling Worm? Pha—See[Pg 341] that Crop Ear there, that Vermin that wants to eat at a Table, would set his Master's Mouth a-watering.
Jac. Calm down, Mr. Liquorish. I, the one for whom the most successful Cavaliers waste their sighs, should I really look down on a creeping worm? Pha—Look at that crop-eared creature over there, that vermin that wants to eat at a table, would make his master’s mouth water.
Lop. May I presume to make an humble Meal upon what savoury Remnants he may leave?
Lop. Can I take the liberty to have a simple meal with whatever tasty leftovers he leaves behind?
Jac. No.
No.
Lop. 'Tis hard! 'tis wondrous hard!
Lop. It's tough! It's really tough!
Jac. Leave me.
Jac, leave me.
Lop. 'Tis pitiful, 'tis wondrous pitiful!
Lop. It's so sad, so very sad!
Jac. Begone, I say. Thus, Ladies 'tis, perhaps, sometimes with you; With Scorn you fly the Thing, which you pursue.
Jac. Go away, I say. That's how it is for ladies sometimes; With disdain, you run away from what you seek.
[Exit Jac.
[Exit Jac.
Lop. [Solus.] 'Tis very well, Mrs. Flipflap, 'tis very well; but do you hear——Tawdry, you are not so alluring as you think you are——Comb-brush, nor I so much in love——your Maidenhead may chance to grow mouldy with your Airs—the Pox be your Bedfellow; there's that for you. Come, let's think no more on't. Sailors must meet with Storms; my Master's going to Sea, too. He may chance to fare no better with the Lady, than I have done with her Abigail: There may be foul Weather there, too. I reckon, at present, he may be lying by under a Mizen, at the Street-Door; I think it rains too, for his Comfort. What if I shou'd leave him there an Hour or two, in fresco, and try to work off the Amour that Way? No; People will be physick'd their own Way. But, perhaps, I might save his Life by't——yes, and have my Bones broke, for being so officious; therefore, if you are at the Door, Don John, walk in, and take your Fortune.
Lop. [Solus.] "That's all good, Mrs. Flipflap, really it is; but listen—Tawdry, you’re not as charming as you think—you too, Comb-brush, and I’m not as in love as you believe. Your virtue might end up decaying with your pretentiousness—may the pox be your bedfellow; there’s that for you. Come on, let’s not dwell on it any longer. Sailors are bound to face storms; my master is heading to sea as well. He might not have any better luck with the lady than I’ve had with her Abigail: there could be rough waters there too. Right now, he might be waiting it out by the door; I reckon it’s raining too, which isn’t good for him. What if I leave him there for an hour or two, in the fresh air, and try to shake off the romance that way? No; people will deal with their issues in their own way. But who knows, maybe I could save his life by doing that—yeah, and end up getting my bones broken for being so meddlesome; so if you’re at the door, Don John, come in and take your chances."
[Opens the Door.
[Opens the Door.]
Enter Don John.
Enter Don John.
Don John. Hist! hist!
Don John. Hush! Hush!
Lop. Hist! hist!
Lop. Hush! Hush!
Don John. Lopez!
Don John Lopez!
Lop. [Aside.] The Devil—Tread softly.
Lop. [Aside.] The Devil—Watch your step.
Don John. Are they all asleep?
Don John. Are they all sleeping?
Lop. Dead.
Lop. Deceased.
Don John. Enough; shut the Door.
Don John. Enough; close the door.
Lop. 'Tis done.
Lop. It's done.
Don John. Now, begone.
Don John. Now, go away.
Lop. What! Shut the Door first, and then begone! Now, methinks, I might as well have gone first, and then shut the Door.
Lop. What! Close the door first, and then get out! Now, I think I might as well have left first, and then closed the door.
Don John. I bid you begone, you Dog, you, do you find the way.
Don John. I tell you to get lost, you dog. Do you know the way?
Lop. [Aside.] Stark mad, and always so when a Woman's in chace. But, Sir, will you keep your chief Minister out of the Secrets of your State? Pray, let me know what this Night's Work is to be.
Lop. [Aside.] Completely crazy, and always like this when a woman’s involved. But, Sir, will you keep your main advisor out of the secrets of your state? Please, tell me what tonight’s mission is about.
Don John. No Questions, but march.
Don John. No questions, just march.
[Lop. goes to the Door, and returns.
[Lop. goes to the Door, and returns.
Lop. Very well—— But, Sir, shall I stay for you in the Street?
Lop. Alright— But, Sir, should I wait for you on the street?
Don John. No, nor stir out of the House.
Don John. No, and don't even go outside.
Lop. So: well, Sir, I'll do just as you have order'd me; I'll be gone, and I'll stay; and I'll march, and I won't stir, and—just as you say, Sir.
Lop. So, alright, Sir, I'll do exactly what you told me; I'll leave, and I'll stick around; I'll move forward, and I won't budge, and—just as you say, Sir.
Don John. I see you are afraid, you Rascal, you.
Don John. I see you’re scared, you rascal, you.
Lop. Possibly.
Lop. Maybe.
Don John. Well, be it so; but you shan't leave the House, Sir; therefore, begone to your Hogstye, and wait further Orders.
Don John. Alright, that’s how it is; but you’re not leaving the House, Sir; so go back to your stye, and wait for further Orders.
Lop. [Aside.] But, first, I'll know how you intend to dispose of yourself.
Lop. [Aside.] But first, I want to know what you plan to do about yourself.
[Lop. hides behind the Door.
Lop hides behind the door.
Don John solus.
Don John alone.
Don John. All's hush and still; and I am at the Point of being a happy——Villain. That Thought comes uninvited——Then, like an uninvited Guest, let it be treated: Begone, Intruder. Leonora's Charms turn Vice to Virtue, Treason into Truth; Nature, who has made her the supreme Object of our Desires, must needs have designed her the Regulator of our Morals. Whatever points at her, is pointed right. We are all her due, Mankind's the Dower which Heaven has settled on her; and he's the Villain that would rob her of her Tribute. I, therefore, as in Duty bound, will in, and pay her mine.
Don John. Everything is quiet and still; and I’m on the verge of being a happy——Villain. That thought enters my mind uninvited——So, like an unwanted guest, I’ll treat it: Go away, intruder. Leonora's beauty turns vice into virtue, treason into truth; nature, which has made her the ultimate object of our desires, must have designed her to be the regulator of our morals. Whatever points to her is on target. We all belong to her; humanity is the gift that heaven has granted her; and he’s the villain who would steal her tribute. So, as it is my duty, I will go in and pay her mine.
Lop. [Aside.] There he goes, i'faith; he seem'd as[Pg 343] if he had a Qualm just now; but he never goes without a Dram of Conscience-Water about him, to set Matters right again.
Lop. [Aside.] There he goes, I swear; he looked like[Pg 343] he was having a moment just now; but he never leaves without a shot of something strong to straighten things out again.
Don John. [Aside.] This is her Door, 'tis lock'd; but I have a Smith about me will make her Staple fly.
Don John. [Aside.] This is her door; it’s locked, but I know a locksmith who can break the lock.
[Pulls out some Irons, and forces the Lock.
[Pulls out some tools and breaks the lock.]
Lop. [Aside.] Hark! hark! if he is not equipt for a Housebreaker, too. Very well, he has provided two Strings to his Bow; if he 'scapes the Rape, he may be hang'd upon the Burglary.
Lop. [Aside.] Hey! Hey! Check it out, he's ready for a break-in, too. Alright, he’s got two options; if he avoids the assault charge, he might still get caught for the burglary.
Don John. [Aside.] There, 'tis done, so: No Watch-Light burning? [Peeping into her Chamber.] All in darkness? So much the better, 'twill save a great deal of blushing on both Sides. Methinks I feel myself mighty modest, I tremble too; that's not proper at this Time. Be firm, my Courage, I have Business for thee—So—How am I now? Pretty well. Then by your Leave, Don Pedro, I must supply your Neglect. You should not have married till you were ready for Consummation; a Maidenhead ought no more to lie upon a handsome Bride, than an Impeachment upon an innocent Minister.
Don John. [Aside.] There, it’s done. No Watch-Light burning? [Peeping into her Chamber.] All in darkness? That’s even better, it’ll save us both a lot of blushing. I think I’m feeling pretty shy, and I’m trembling too; that’s not right at this moment. Stay strong, my Courage, I have business to attend to—So—How am I feeling now? Pretty good. Then if you don’t mind, Don Pedro, I need to step in for your neglect. You shouldn’t have married until you were ready for the next step; a maidenhead shouldn’t be placed on a beautiful bride any more than an accusation on an innocent minister.
[Don John enters the Chamber.
Don John enters the room.
Lop. [Coming forwards.] Well done, well done; God-a-mercy, my little Judas. Unfortunate Don Pedro! thou hast left thy Purse in the Hands of a Robber; and while thou art galloping to pay the last Duty to thy Father, he's at least upon the Trot to pay the first to thy Wife. Ah the Traitor! What a Capilotade of Damnation will there be cook'd up for him! But softly: Let's lay our Ear to the Door, and pick up some Curiosities——I hear no Noise——There's no Light; we shall have him blunder where he should not do, by and by——commit a Rape upon her Tea-Table, perhaps, break all her China, and then she'll be sure to hang him. But hark—now I hear—nothing; she does not say a Word; she sleeps curiously. How if she shou'd take it all for a Dream, now? Or her Virtue shou'd be fallen into an Apoplexy? Where the Pox will all this end?
Lop. [Coming forward.] Well done, well done; bless my soul, my little Judas. Poor Don Pedro! You’ve left your wallet in the hands of a thief; and while you’re rushing to pay your last respects to your father, he’s at least on his way to pay the first to your wife. Ah, the traitor! What a Capilotade of damnation will be cooked up for him! But wait: Let’s listen at the door and see what we can find out——I hear no noise——There’s no light; he’ll soon stumble into something he shouldn’t——maybe make a mess of her tea table, break all her china, and then she’ll definitely hang him. But listen—now I hear—nothing; she doesn’t say a word; she sleeps oddly. What if she takes it all as a dream? Or what if her virtue has fainted from shock? Where the hell will all this end?
Leo. [Within.] Jacinta! Beatrix! Fernandez! Murder! Murder! help! help! help!
Leo. [Inside.] Jacinta! Beatrix! Fernandez! Murder! Murder! Help! Help! Help!
Lop. Now the Play begins, it opens finely.
Lop. Now the play starts, and it begins well.
Leo. [Within.] Father! Alphonso! Save me, O save me!
Leo. [Within.] Dad! Alphonso! Help me, please help me!
Lop. Comedy or Tragedy, for a Ducat! for fear of the latter, decamp Lopez.
Lop. Comedy or Tragedy, for a Ducat! to avoid the latter, get out of here Lopez.
[Exit Lopez.
[Exit Lopez.]
SCENE changes to Leonora's Bed-Chamber; discovers Leonora in a Gown, holding Don John by the Sleeve.
Leo. Whoever you are, Villain, you shan't escape me; and tho' your Efforts have been in vain, you shan't fail to receive the Recompence of your Attempt: Help, ho, help there! help!
Leo. Whoever you are, villain, you won't get away from me; and even though your efforts have been pointless, you won't fail to get what's coming to you for trying. Help! Someone help!
[Don John breaks from her, but can't find the Door.
Don John breaks away from her, but can't find the door.
Don John. [Aside.] S'death, I shall be undone! Where is this damn'd Door?
Don John. [Aside.] Good grief, I'm going to be ruined! Where is this cursed Door?
Leo. He'll get away: a Light there, quickly.
Leo. He'll escape: a Light over there, quick.
Enter Don Guzman with his Sword drawn.
Enter Don Guzman with his sword drawn.
Don Guz. Where are you, fair Angel? I come to lose my Life in your Defence.
Don Guz. Where are you, beautiful Angel? I'm here to risk my life in your defense.
Don John. [Aside.] That's Guzman's Voice? The Devil has sent him: But we are still in the dark; I have one Tour yet—Impudence, be my Aid. Light there, ho! Where is the Villain that durst attempt the virtuous Leonora.
Don John. [Aside.] Is that Guzman's voice? The devil must have sent him: But we still don't know what's going on; I still have one Tour left—Impudence, help me out. Light, over here! Where is the villain who would dare to go after the virtuous Leonora?
Don Guz. His Life shall make her Satisfaction.
Don Guz. His Life will bring her satisfaction.
Don John. Or mine shall fall in his pursuit.
Don John. Or mine will fall in his pursuit.
Don Guz. 'Tis by my Hands that she shall see him die.
Don Guz. It's by my hands that she will see him die.
Don John. My Sword shall lay him bleeding at her Feet.
Don John. My sword will leave him bleeding at her feet.
Leo. [Aside.] What can this mean? But here's Light at last, thank the just bounteous Heaven.
Leo. [Aside.] What could this mean? But here comes Light at last, thank goodness for bounteous Heaven.
Don John. Enter with the Light there; but secure the Door, lest the Traitor 'scape my Vengeance.
Don John. Go in with the Light now; but lock the Door, so the Traitor doesn’t escape my Revenge.
Enter Don Pedro, with a Light, he finds Leonora between them; both their Swords drawn.
Enter Don Pedro, with a light, he finds Leonora between them; both of their swords drawn.
Leo. O Heavens! what is't I see?
Leo. Oh my gosh! What am I seeing?
Don John. Don Pedro here!
Don John. Don Pedro here!
Don Ped. What monstrous Scene is this?
Don Ped. What a monstrous scene is this?
[Aside.
Aside.
Don Guz. What Accident has brought him here?
Don Guz. What accident has brought him here?
[Aside.
[By the way.
Don John. How I'm intrigu'd, indeed.
Don John. How I'm intrigued, indeed.
[Aside.
[By the way.
[Don Pedro steps back and shuts the Door.
[Don Pedro steps back and shuts the door.
Don Ped. [Aside.] This Mystery must unfold before we part. What Torments has my Fate provided me? Is this the Comfort I'm to reap, to dry my Tears, for my poor Father's death? [To Leo.] Ah Leonora!
Don Ped. [Aside.] This mystery has to be revealed before we separate. What torments has my fate prepared for me? Is this the comfort I'm supposed to gain, to dry my tears for my poor father's death? [To Leo.] Ah Leonora!
Leo. [Aside.] Alas! where will this end!
Leo. [Aside.] Oh no! Where is this going to end!
[Falling into a Chair.
[Collapsing into a Chair.]
Don Ped. [Aside.] Naked! and thus attended at the dead of Night! My Soul is froze at what I see. Confusion sits in all their Faces, and in large Characters I read the Ruin of my Honour and my Love.
Don Ped. [Aside.] Naked! And this happens in the dead of night! My heart stops at what I see. Confusion is written all over their faces, and I can clearly see the destruction of my honor and my love.
[To the Men.] Speak, Statues, if you yet have Power to speak, why at this Time of Night you are found with Leonora?——None speak! Don John, it is from you I ought to know.
[To the Men.] Speak, Statues, if you still have the ability to talk, why are you here with Leonora at this hour of the night?——No one speaks! Don John, it's from you that I should learn the truth.
Don John. My Silence may inform you.
Don John. My silence may inform you.
Don Ped. Your Silence does inform me of my Shame, but I must have some Information more; explain the whole.
Don Ped. Your silence tells me I'm ashamed, but I need more information; explain everything.
Don John. I shall. You remember, Don Pedro——
Don John. I will. You remember, Don Pedro——
Don Ped. Be quick.
Don Ped. Hurry up.
Don John. You remember you charged me before you went——
Don John. You remember you asked me for payment before you left——
Don Ped. I remember well; go on.
Don Ped. I remember it well; continue.
Don John. With the Care of your Honour.
Don John. With respect, your Honor.
Don Ped. I did; dispatch.
Don Ped. I did; send.
Don John. Very well; you see Don Guzman in this Apartment, you see your Wife naked, and you see me, my Sword in my Hand;—that's all.
Don John. Alright; you see Don Guzman in this apartment, you see your wife without clothes, and you see me, my sword in my hand; that's it.
Don Ped. [Drawing upon Don Guz.] 'Tis here, then, I am to revenge my Wrongs.
Don Ped. [Drawing upon Don Guz.] 'So, this is where I’m going to get back at those who wronged me.
Don Guz. Hold.
Don Guz. Wait.
Don Ped. Villain, defend thyself.
Don Ped. Villain, defend yourself.
Leo. O Heaven!
Leo. Oh my gosh!
Don Guz. Yet hear me.
Don Guz. But hear me.
Don Ped. What canst thou say?
Don Ped. What can you say?
Don Guz. The Truth, as holy Heaven itself is Truth! I heard the Shrieks and Cries of Leonora; what the Occasion was I knew not; but she repeated them with so much Vehemence, I found, whatever her Distress might be, her Succour must be sudden; so leapt the Wall that parts our Houses, and flew to her Assistance. Don John can, if he please, inform you more.
Don Guz. The Truth, as holy as Heaven itself, is truth! I heard Leonora's screams and cries; I didn't know what was happening, but she called out with such urgency that I realized, no matter what her distress was, she needed help immediately. So, I jumped over the wall that divides our houses and rushed to her aid. Don John can, if he wants, tell you more.
Don Ped. [Aside.] Mankind's a Villain, and this may be true; yet 'tis too monstrous for a quick Conception. I shou'd be cautious how I wrong Don John. Sure 'tis not right to balance. I yet have but their Words against their Words; I know Don John for my Friend, and Guzman for my Rival. What can be clearer? Yet hold! If Leonora's innocent, she may untangle all. Madam, I shou'd be glad to know (if I have so much Interest left) which Way your Evidence will point my Sword.
Don Ped. [Aside.] Humanity can be treacherous, and that might be true; still, it’s too outrageous for me to grasp quickly. I need to be careful not to accuse Don John unfairly. It doesn't feel right to compare the two. I only have their words against each other; I know Don John as my friend, and Guzman as my rival. What could be more obvious? But wait! If Leonora is innocent, she might clear everything up. Madam, I would love to know (if I still have any influence) which way your testimony will guide my decisions.
Leo. My Lord, I'm in the same Perplexity with you: All I can say is this; one of them came to force me, t'other to save me: but the Night confounding the Villainy of the Guilty with the Generosity of the Innocent, I still am ignorant to which I owe my Gratitude, or my Resentment.
Leo. My Lord, I'm as confused as you are: all I can say is this; one of them came to force me, the other to save me: but the Night mixing up the wrongdoing of the guilty with the kindness of the innocent, I still don’t know whether I should be grateful or resentful.
Don Guz. But, Madam, did you not hear me cry, I came to help you?
Don Guz. But, Ma'am, didn't you hear me shout, I came to help you?
Leo. I own it.
Leo. I got this.
Don John. And did you not hear me threaten to destroy the Author of your Fears?
Don John. Did you not hear me threaten to take down the source of your fears?
Leo. I can't deny it.
Leo. I can't deny that.
Don Guz. What can there be more to clear me?
Don Guz. What else can I do to prove my innocence?
Don John. Or me?
Don John. Or me?
Don Ped. Yet one's a Villain still.
Don Ped. Yet one’s still a villain.
[Aside.] My Confusion but increases; yet why confus'd? It is, it must be Guzman. But how came Don John here? Right. Guzman has said how he came to[Pg 347] her Aid, but Alvarada cou'd not enter but by Treason. Then perish——
[Aside.] My confusion just keeps growing; but why am I confused? It has to be Guzman. But how did Don John get here? Right. Guzman mentioned how he came to[Pg 347] her aid, but Alvarada couldn't enter except through treachery. Then perish——
Don Guz.. Who?
Don Guz. Who?
Don John. Who?
Don John. Who?
Don Ped. Just Gods, instruct me who!
Don Ped. Just Gods, tell me who!
Don. Felix knocks.
Don. Felix knocks.
Don Fel. [Within.] Let me in, open the Door.
Don Fel. [Within.] Let me in, open the door.
Leo. 'Tis my Father.
Leo. It's my Dad.
Don Ped. No Matter; keep the Door fast. [Aside.] I'll have this Matter go no further, till I can reach the Depth on't. Don Guzman, leave the House; I must suspend my Vengeance for a Time.
Don Ped. Never mind; just keep the door locked. [Aside.] I won't let this go any further until I can figure out what’s going on. Don Guzman, leave the house; I need to put my revenge on hold for a while.
Don Guz. I obey you; but I'll lose my Life, or shew my Innocence.
Don Guz. I will follow your orders; but I will either lose my life or prove my innocence.
[Exit Don Guz.
[Exit Don Guz.
Don Fel. [Within.] Open the Door; why am I kept out?
Don Fel. [Inside.] Open the Door; why am I being kept out?
Don Ped. Don John, follow me by this back Way. And you, Leonora, retire.
Don Ped. Don John, follow me through this back way. And you, Leonora, please step back.
[Exit Leonora.
[Leave Leonora.
Don John. [Aside, following Don Ped.] If Don Guzman's Throat were cut, would not this Bustle end?—Yes——Why then, if his Throat be not cut, may this Bustle end me!
Don John. [Aside, following Don Ped.] If Don Guzman's throat were cut, wouldn’t this chaos stop?—Yes——Then, if his throat isn’t cut, may this chaos end me!
ACT IV.
SCENE, Don Guzman's House.
Enter Don Guzman, and Galindo.
Enter Don Guzman and Galindo.
Don Guz. Galindo!
Don Guz. Galindo!
[Musing.
[Thinking.
Gal. Sir.
Gal. Sir.
Don Guz. Try if you can see Jacinta, let her privately know I wou'd fain speak with her.
Don Guz. If you can, see if you can find Jacinta and let her know privately that I would like to speak with her.
Gal. It shall be done, Sir.
Okay, it will be done, Sir.
[Exit. Gal.
Exit. Gal.
Don Guzman solus.
Don Guzman alone.
Sure Villainy and Impudence were never on the Stretch before! This Traitor has racked them till[Pg 348] they crack. To what a Plunge the Villain's Tour has brought me. Pedro's Resentment must at last be pointed here: But that's a Trifle; had he not ruin'd me with Leonora, I easily had pass'd him by the rest.——What's to be done? Which Way shall I convince her of my Innocence? The Blood of him who has dar'd declare me Guilty, may satisfy my Vengeance, but not aid my Love. No; I'm lost with her for ever——
Sure, villainy and audacity have never been so extreme before! This traitor has pushed them to the breaking point. To what a low point the villain's journey has brought me. Pedro's resentment must finally be directed here: but that's a minor issue; if he hadn't ruined me with Leonora, I could have easily overlooked him. What should I do? How can I prove my innocence to her? The blood of the one who has dared to call me guilty may satisfy my desire for revenge, but it won't help my love. No; I'm lost to her forever.
Enter Jacinta.
Enter Jacinta.
Speak: is't not so, Jacinta? Am I not ruin'd with the virtuous Leonora?
Speak: isn't it so, Jacinta? Am I not ruined by the virtuous Leonora?
Jacin. One of you, I suppose, is.
Jacin. I guess one of you is.
Don Guz. Which dost thou think?
Don Guz. What do you think?
Jacin. Why he that came to spoil all; who shou'd it be?
Jacin. Why did he come to ruin everything; who else could it be?
Don Guz. Pr'ythee be serious with me if thou can'st, for one small Moment, and advise me which Way I shall take to convince her of my Innocence, that it was I that came to do her Service.
Don Guz. Please be serious with me for a moment and advise me on how I can convince her of my innocence, that it was I who came to help her.
Jacin. Why, you both came to do her Service, did not you?
Jacin. So, you both came to help her, right?
Don Guz. Still trifling.
Don Guz. Still messing around.
Jacin. No, by my Troth, not I.
Jacin. No, I swear, it's not me.
Don Guz. Then turn thy Thoughts to ease me in my Torment, and be my faithful Witness to her, that Heaven and Hell and all their Wrath I imprecate, if ever once I knew one fleeting Thought that durst propose to me so impious an Attempt. No, Jacinta, I love her well; but love with that Humility, whatever Misery I feel, my Torture ne'er shall urge me on to seize more than her Bounty gives me leave to take.
Don Guz. Then turn your thoughts to help me in my torment, and be my faithful witness to her that I call upon all the wrath of Heaven and Hell if I ever had a single fleeting thought that dared to suggest such an impious attempt. No, Jacinta, I love her deeply; but I love with such humility that, no matter the misery I feel, my torture will never push me to take more than her generosity allows.
Jacin. And the Murrain take such a Lover, and his Humility both, say I. Why, sure, Sir, you are not in earnest in this Story; are you?
Jacin. And the Murrain takes such a Lover, and his Humility too, I say. Why, come on, Sir, you can't be serious about this story; can you?
Don Guz. Why dost thou question it?
Don Guz. Why do you question it?
Jacin. Because I really and seriously thought you innocent.
Jacin. Because I truly believed you were innocent.
Don Guz. Innocent! What dost thou mean?
Don Guz. Innocent! What do you mean?
Jacin. Mean! Why, what shou'd I mean? I mean that I concluded you lov'd my Lady to that Degree,[Pg 349] you cou'd not live without her: And that the Thought of her being given up to another, made your Passion flame out like Mount Etna: That upon this your Love got the Bridle in his Teeth, and ran away with you into her Chamber, where that impertinent Spy upon her and you, Don John, follow'd, and prevented farther Proofs of your Affection.
Jacin. Mean! What do you mean? I mean that I figured you loved my lady so much, [Pg 349] that you couldn't live without her. And the thought of her being with someone else drove your passion like Mount Etna: Because of this, your love took control and led you into her room, where that meddlesome spy, Don John, followed you and interrupted any further expressions of your affection.
Don Guz. Why, sure——
Don Guz. Of course—
Jacin. Why, sure, thus I thought it was, and thus she thinks it is. If you have a Mind in the Depth of your Discretion, to convince her of your Innocence—May your Innocence be your Reward! I'm sure were I in her Place, you shou'd never have any other from me.
Jacin. Of course, that's what I thought, and that's what she believes. If you have the cleverness to prove to her that you're innocent—then may your innocence be your reward! I'm sure if I were in her position, you wouldn’t get anything else from me.
Don Guz. Was there then no Merit in flying to her Assistance when I heard her Cries?
Don Guz. Was there really no value in rushing to help her when I heard her cries?
Jacin. As much as the Constable and the Watch might have pretended to—something to drink.
Jacin. As much as the Constable and the Watch might have acted like they didn't want it—there was still a need for something to drink.
Don Guz. This is all Raillery; 'tis, impossible she can be pleas'd with such an Attempt.
Don Guz. This is all just teasing; it's impossible for her to be happy with such an attempt.
Jacin. 'Tis impossible she can be pleas'd with being reduc'd to make the Attempt upon you.
Jacin. It's impossible for her to be happy about being forced to make an effort with you.
Don Guz. But was this a proper Way to save her Blushes?
Don Guz. But was this a right way to save her blushes?
Jacin. 'Twas in the dark; that's one Way.
Jacin. It was dark; that's one way.
Don Guz. But it must look like downright Violation.
Don Guz. But it has to seem like a clear violation.
Jacin. If it did not feel like it, what did that signify? Come, Sir, Waggery apart: You know I'm your Servant; I have given you Proofs on't. Therefore, don't distrust me now, if I tell you, this Quarrel may be made up with the Wife, tho' perhaps not with the Husband. In short, she thinks you were first in her Chamber, and has not the worse Opinion of you for it; she makes Allowance for your Sufferings, and has still Love enough for you, not to be displeas'd with the utmost Proofs you can give, that you have still a warm Remain for her.
Jacin. If it doesn't feel like it, what does that mean? Come on, Sir, joking aside: You know I'm here for you; I've shown you that. So, don’t doubt me now when I say, this conflict can be resolved with the Wife, though maybe not with the Husband. In short, she believes you were the first in her room, and doesn't think any less of you for it; she understands your struggles, and still cares enough about you to not be upset by any signs you give that you still have feelings for her.
Don Guz. If this be true, and that she thought 'twas me, why did me cry out to expose me?
Don Guz. If this is true, and she thought it was me, why did she cry out to reveal me?
Jacin. Because at this Time she did not think 'twas you. Will that content you? And now she does think[Pg 350] 'twas you, your Business is to let her think so on; for, in a Word, I can see she's concern'd at the Danger she has brought you into, and, I believe, wou'd be heartily glad to see you well out on't.
Jacin. Because right now she didn’t think it was you. Will that satisfy you? And now she believes it was you, your job is to let her keep thinking that. In short, I can tell she’s worried about the trouble she’s caused you, and I believe she would be truly happy to see you safe from it.
Don Guz.——'Tis impossible she can forgive me.
Don Guz.——It's impossible for her to forgive me.
Jacin. Oons—Now Heaven forgive me, for I had a great Oath upon the very Tip of my Tongue; you'd make one mad with your Impossibles, and your Innocence, and your Humilities. 'Sdeath, Sir, do you think a Woman makes no Distinction between the Assaults of a Man she likes and one she don't? My Lady hates Don John, and if she thought 'twas he had done this Job, she'd hang him for't in her own Garters; she likes you, and if you shou'd do such another, you might still die in your Bed like a Bishop, for her.
Jacin. Oons—Now, God forgive me, because I had a serious promise on the very tip of my tongue; you’d drive anyone crazy with your impossibilities, your innocence, and your humility. Good grief, do you really think a woman can’t tell the difference between the advances of a man she likes and one she doesn’t? My lady hates Don John, and if she thought he was behind this, she'd hang him with her own garters; she likes you, and if you pulled something like that again, you could still die peacefully in your bed like a bishop, for her.
Don Guz. Well, I'll dispute no farther. I put myself into thy Hands. What am I to do next?
Don Guz. Alright, I won't argue anymore. I'm putting myself in your hands. What should I do next?
Jacin. Why, do as she bids you; be in the Way at the old Rendezvous, she'll take the first Occasion she can to speak to you; and when you meet, do as I bid you, and instead of your Innocent and Humble, be Guilty and Resolute. Your Mistress is now marry'd, Sir; consider that. She has chang'd her Situation, and so must you your Battery. Attack a Maid gently, a Wife warmly, and be as rugged with a Widow as you can. Good bye t'ye, Sir.
Jacin. Just do what she says; be at the usual meeting spot, and she’ll look for a chance to talk to you. When you see her, do what I told you, and instead of being innocent and modest, be bold and confident. Your lady is married now, Sir; keep that in mind. She’s changed her situation, so you need to change your approach. Be gentle with a young woman, passionate with a wife, and as tough as you can with a widow. Goodbye, Sir.
[Exeunt several Ways.
Exit in several directions.
SCENE, Don Felix's House.
Enter Don Pedro solus.
Enter Don Pedro alone.
In what Distraction have I past this Night! Sure I shall never close my Eyes again! No Rack can equal what I feel. Wounded in both my Honour and my Love; they have pierc'd me in two tender Parts. Yet cou'd I take my just Revenge, it wou'd in some Degree assuage my Smart. O! guide me Heaven to that Cordial drop.——Hold! A Glance of Light I think begins to——Yes——Right. When Yesterday I brought Don John hither, was not Don Felix much disturb'd?——He was; and why?——That may be worth enquiring. But something more occurs. At my Arrival in this City, was I not told that two Cavaliers[Pg 351] were warm in the Pursuit of Leonora? One I remember well, they nam'd, 'twas Guzman: The other, I am yet a Stranger to. I fear I shall not be so long——'Tis Alvarada! O the Traitor! yet I may wrong him much. I have Guzman's own Confession that he past the Wall to come to Leonora——O! but 'twas to her Assistance——And so it might, and he a Villain still.—There are Assistances of various Sorts——What were her Wants?—That's dark—But whatsoe'er they were, he came to her Assistance. Death be his Portion, for his ready Service.
In what a distraction have I spent this night! I’m sure I’ll never be able to close my eyes again! No torture can match what I’m feeling. Wounded in both my honor and my love; they’ve pierced me in two sensitive spots. Yet if I could take my rightful revenge, it would ease my pain to some extent. Oh! Guide me, Heaven, to that healing remedy.——Wait! I think a glimmer of understanding is beginning to——Yes——Exactly. When I brought Don John here yesterday, wasn’t Don Felix very disturbed?——He was; and why?——That might be worth investigating. But something else comes to mind. When I arrived in this city, wasn’t I told that two gentlemen[Pg 351] were actively pursuing Leonora? One I remember well; his name was Guzman: The other, I’ve yet to meet. I fear it won’t be long before I do——It’s Alvarada! Oh, the traitor! Yet I might be wrong about him. I have Guzman’s own confession that he crossed the wall to reach Leonora——Oh! but it was to help her——And so it might be, and he could still be a villain.—There are all sorts of help——What did she need?—That’s unclear—But whatever it was, he came to her aid. Death be his reward for his prompt service.
Enter Don Felix.
Enter Don Felix.
Don Fel. You avoid me, Don Pedro; 'tis not well. Am I not your Father, have you not Reason to believe I am your Friend?
Don Fel. You’ve been avoiding me, Don Pedro; that’s not okay. Am I not your father? Don’t you have a reason to believe that I’m your friend?
Don Ped. I have.
Don Ped. I have.
Don Fel. Why do you not then treat me like a Father and a Friend? The Mystery you make to me of last Night's Disturbance, I take unkindly from you.—Come, tell me your Grief, that if I can I may assuage it.
Don Fel. Why don’t you treat me like a father and a friend? I find it unkind that you’re keeping the disturbance from last night a mystery. Come on, share your troubles with me so I can help if I can.
Don Ped. Nothing but Vengeance can give me ease.
Don Ped. Only vengeance can bring me peace.
Don Fel. If I desire to know your Wrongs, 'tis to assist you in revenging 'em.
Don Fel. If I want to know your grievances, it’s to help you get back at them.
Don Ped. Know then, that last Night in this Apartment I found Don Guzman and Don John.
Don Ped. Just so you know, last night in this apartment I found Don Guzman and Don John.
Don Fel. Guzman and Alvarada?
Don Fel. Guzman and Alvarada?
Don Ped. Yes; and Leonora almost naked between them, crying out for Aid.
Don Ped. Yeah; and Leonora is almost naked between them, screaming for help.
Don Fel. Were they both guilty?
Don Fel. Were they both at fault?
Don Ped. One was come to force her, t'other to rescue her.
Don Ped. One came to force her, the other to save her.
Don Fel. Which was the Criminal?
Don Fel. Which was the criminal?
Don Ped. Of that I am yet ignorant. They accuse each other.
Don Ped. I'm still not aware of that. They blame each other.
Don Fel. Can't your Wife determine it?
Don Fel. Can't your wife figure it out?
Don Ped. The Darkness of the Night put it out of her Power.
Don Ped. The darkness of the night made it impossible for her.
Don Fel. But I perhaps may bring some Light to aid you. I have Part in the Affront: And tho' my Arm's too old and weak to serve you, my Counsel may be use[Pg 352]ful to your Vengeance. Know then, that Don Guzman has a long Time pursu'd my Daughter; and I as resolutely refus'd his Suit; which, however, has not hindered him from searching all Occasions to see and speak to her. Don John, on his Side——
Don Fel. But I might be able to shed some light on this for you. I have a role in the offense: And although my strength is too old and weak to help you physically, my advice could be useful for your revenge. So, know this: Don Guzman has been after my daughter for a long time, and I have firmly rejected his advances; however, that hasn’t stopped him from looking for every opportunity to see and talk to her. Don John, on his side——
Don Ped. Don John's my Friend, and I am confident——
Don Ped. Don John is my friend, and I’m sure——
Don Fel. That Confidence destroys you. Hear my Charge, and be yourself his Judge. He too has been a pressing Suitor to my Daughter.
Don Fel. That confidence is going to ruin you. Listen to my warning, and judge for yourself. He has also been a persistent suitor to my daughter.
Don Ped. Impossible!
Don Ped. No way!
Don Fel. To me myself, he has own'd his Love to her.
Don Fel. He has admitted his love for her to me.
Don Ped.. Good Gods! Yet still this leaves the Mystery where it was; this Charge is equal.
Don Ped.. Good heavens! But this still leaves the mystery unsolved; this accusation is the same.
Don Fel. 'Tis true; but yonder's one (if you can make her speak) I have Reason, to believe can tell us more.——Ho, Jacinta!
Don Fel. It's true; but over there is someone (if you can get her to speak) I have reason to believe can tell us more.——Hey, Jacinta!
Enter Jacinta.
Enter Jacinta.
Jacin. Do you call me, Sir?
Jacin. Are you calling me, Sir?
Don Fel. Yes; Don Pedro wou'd speak with you. [To Don Pedro aside.] I'll leave you with her; press her; press her both by Threats and Promises, and if you find your Wife in Fault, old as I am, her Father too, I'll raise my Arm to plunge this Dagger in her Breast, and by that Firmness convince the world, my Honour's dearer to me than my Child.
Don Fel. Yes; Don Pedro wants to talk to you. [To Don Pedro aside.] I'll leave you two alone; push her; push her with both threats and promises, and if you find your wife at fault, even at my age, and her father too, I'll raise my hand to stab this dagger in her chest, and by that determination prove to the world that my honor is more important to me than my child.
[Exit Don Fel.
[Exit Don Fel.
Don Ped. [Aside.] Heaven grant me Power to stifle my Rage, till 'tis Time to let my Vengeance fly. Jacinta, come near: I have some Business with you.
Don Ped. [Aside.] I hope I can hold back my anger until it's time to take my revenge. Jacinta, come here: I need to talk to you.
Jacin. [Aside.] His Business with me at this Time can be good for nothing, I doubt.
Jacin. [Aside.] I doubt his business with me right now is going to be of any use.
Jacin. [To Don Ped.] What Commands have you, Sir, for me? I'm not very well.
Jacin. [To Don Ped.] What orders do you have for me, Sir? I’m not feeling well.
Don Ped. What's your Disorder?
Don Ped. What's your diagnosis?
Jacin. A little Sort of a something towards an Ague, I think.
Jacin. I think it’s kind of like a mild fever.
Don Ped. You don't seem so ill, but you may tell me—
Don Ped. You don't look that sick, but you can tell me—
Jacin. O, I can tell you nothing, Sir, I assure you.
Jacin. Oh, I really can't tell you anything, Sir, I promise.
Don Ped. You answer me before yon hear my Question. That looks as if you knew——
Don Ped. You answered me before you even heard my question. That seems like you knew——
Jacin. I know that what you are going to ask me, is a Secret I'm out at.
Jacin. I know that what you're about to ask me is a secret I'm already aware of.
Don Ped. [Offering her a Purse.] Then this shall let thee into it.
Don Ped. [Offering her a Purse.] Then this will give you access to it.
Jacin. I know nothing of the Matter.
Jacin. I don't know anything about the situation.
Don Ped. Come, tell me all, and take thy Reward.
Don Ped. Come on, share everything with me, and you'll get your reward.
Jacin. I know nothing of the Matter, I say.
Jacin. I don’t know anything about it, I say.
Don Ped. [Drawing his Sword.] Speak; or by all the Flame and Fire of Hell Eternal—
Don Ped. [Drawing his Sword.] Speak; or by all the Flame and Fire of Hell Eternal—
Jacin. O Lard, O Lard, O Lard!
Jacin. Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord!
Don Ped. Speak, or th'art dead.
Don Ped. Speak, or you're dead.
Jacin. But if I do speak, shan't I be dead for all that?
Jacin. But if I speak, won’t I be dead anyway?
Don Ped. Speak, and thou art safe.
Don Ped. Speak, and you're safe.
Jacin. Well—O Lard—I'm so frighted—But if I must speak then—O dear Heart—give me the Purse.
Jacin. Well—Oh Lord—I’m so scared—But if I have to say something—Oh dear Heart—give me the Purse.
Don Ped. There.
Don Ped. There.
Jacin. Why truly, between a Purse in one's Hand—and—a Sword in one's Guts, I think there's little room left for Debate.
Jacin. Honestly, with a purse in one hand and a sword in my gut, I don't think there's much left to argue about.
Don Ped. Come begin, I'm impatient.
Don Ped. Let's get started, I'm eager.
Jacin. Begin! let me see, where shall I begin? At Don Guzman, I think.
Jacin. Alright! Let me think, where should I start? I guess with Don Guzman.
Don Ped. What of him?
Don Ped. What's up with him?
Jacin. Why he has been in love with my Lady these six Years.
Jacin. He has been in love with my Lady for six years.
Don Ped. I know it; but how has she received him?
Don Ped. I know, but how did she react to him?
Jacin. Receive him! Why—as young Maids use to receive handsome Fellows; at first ill, afterwards better.
Jacin. Let him in! Why—like young women do when they meet good-looking guys; at first not great, but then improving.
Don Ped. [Aside.] Furies! Did they ever meet?
Don Ped. [Aside.] Furies! Have they ever met?
Jacin. A little.
Jacin. A bit.
Don Ped. By Day or Night?
Don Ped. By Day or Night?
Jacin. Both.
Jacin. Both.
Don Ped. Distraction! Where was their Rendezvous?
Don Ped. Distraction! Where was their meetup?
Jacin. Where they cou'd not do one another much good.
Jacin. Where they couldn't really help each other much.
Don Ped. As how?
Don Ped. How so?
Jacin. As through a Hole in a Wall.
Jacin. As through a Hole in a Wall.
Don Ped. The Strumpet banters me: Be serious, Insolence, or I shall spoil your Gaiety; I'm not dispos'd to Mirth.
Don Ped. The Strumpet jokes with me: Be serious, Insolence, or I'll ruin your fun; I'm not in the mood for laughter.
Jacin. Why I am serious, if you like my Story the better for't.
Jacin. I'm being serious; if you like my story, that's even better.
Don Ped. [Aside.] How miserable a Wretch am I!
Don Ped. [Aside.] How miserable am I!
Jacin. I tell you there's a Wall parts their two Houses, and in that Wall there's a Hole. How the Wall came by the Hole, I can't tell; mayhap by chance, mayhap by no chance; but there 'tis, and there they use to prattle.
Jacin. I'm telling you there's a wall that separates their two houses, and in that wall, there's a hole. I can't say how the hole got there; maybe it was by chance, maybe it wasn't; but there it is, and that's where they usually chat.
Don Ped. And this is Truth?
Don Ped. Is this the truth?
Jacin. I can't bate you a Word on't, Sir.
Jacin. I can't say a word about it, Sir.
Don Ped. When did they meet there last?
Don Ped. When did they last meet there?
Jacin. Yesterday; I suppose 'twas only to bid one another adieu.
Jacin. Yesterday; I guess it was just to say goodbye to each other.
Don Ped. Ah, Jacinta, thou hast pierced my Soul!
Don Ped. Ah, Jacinta, you have pierced my soul!
Jacin. [Aside.] And yet I han't told you half I cou'd tell you, my Don.
Jacin. [Aside.] And yet I haven't told you half of what I could tell you, my friend.
Don Ped. Where is this Place you speak of?
Don Ped. Where is this place you’re talking about?
Jacin. There 'tis, if you are curious.
Jacin. There it is, if you're curious.
Don Ped. When they wou'd speak with one another; what's the Call?
Don Ped. When they want to talk to each other; what's the call?
Jacin. Tinkle, Tinkle.
Tinkle, Tinkle.
Don Ped. A Bell?
Don Ped. A Bell?
Jacin. It is.
Jacin. That's correct.
Don Ped. Ring.
Don Ped. Ring.
Jacin. What do you mean, Sir?
Jacin. What do you mean, sir?
Don Ped. [Hastily.] Ring.
Don Ped. [Quickly.] Call.
Jacin. 'Tis done.
Jacin. It's done.
Don Ped. [Aside.] I'll make use of her to examine him. Does he come?
Don Ped. [Aside.] I'll use her to check him out. Is he coming?
Jacin. Not yet.
Jacin. Not yet.
Don Ped. Pull again.
Don Ped. Pull again.
Jacin. You must give him Time, Sir: My Lady always does so.
Jacin. You have to give him time, Sir: My Lady always does.
Don Ped. I hear something.
Don Ped. I hear something.
Jacin. 'Tis he.
Jacin. It's him.
Don Guz. [Within.] Who's there?
Don Guz. [Within.] Who's there?
Don Ped... [Softly.] Say you are Leonora.
Don Ped.. [Softly.] Say you are Leonora.
[Dumb Shew of her Unwillingness and his Threatning.
[Dumb Show of her Unwillingness and his Threatening.]
Jacin. [Softly.] 'Tis Leonora.
Jacin. [Softly.] It's Leonora.
Don Guz. What are your Commands, Madam? Is it possible so unfortunate a Wretch as I can be capable of serving you?
Don Guz. What are your commands, Madam? Is it possible that someone as unfortunate as me could actually serve you?
[Don Ped. whispers Jacinta, who seems backwards to speak.
[Don Ped. whispers Jacinta, who seems hesitant to speak.
Jacin. I come to ask you, how cou'd you so far forget that infinite Regard you have professed, as to make an Attempt so dangerous both to yourself and me; and which, with all the Esteem and Love I have ever borne you, you scarce cou'd hope I ever shou'd forgive you.
Jacin. I want to ask you, how could you forget the deep feelings you’ve expressed so much as to take such a risky action that threatens both you and me? With all the respect and love I’ve always had for you, you could hardly expect that I would ever be able to forgive you.
Don Guz. Alas! my Hopes and Fears were vanish'd too. My Counsel was my Love and my Despair. If they advis'd me wrong, of them complain, for it was you who made 'em my Directors.
Don Guz. Oh! my hopes and fears are gone too. My advice was my love and my despair. If they led me astray, I’ll blame them, since it was you who made them my guides.
Don Ped. [Aside.] The Villain owns the Fact. It seems he thinks he has not so much to fear from her Resentment.——O Torture!
Don Ped. [Aside.] The villain has the upper hand. He seems to think he doesn’t have much to worry about from her anger. —— Oh, the pain!
Enter Leonora.
Enter Leonora.
Jacin. [Aside.] So, she's here; that's as I expected: now we are blown up.
Jacin. [Aside.] So, she’s here; that’s what I expected: now we’re in big trouble.
Leo. [Aside, not seeing them.] If I don't mistake, I heard Don Guzman's Call. I can't refuse to answer it. Forgive me, Gods, and let my Woman's Weakness plead my Cause.—How! my Husband here! Nay then——
Leo. [Aside, not seeing them.] If I’m not mistaken, I heard Don Guzman call. I can't ignore it. Forgive me, gods, and let my weakness as a woman support my case.—What! My husband is here! Well then——
Don Ped. You seem disorder'd, Madam; pray, what may be the Cause?
Don Ped. You look a bit out of sorts, ma'am; may I ask what’s bothering you?
Leo. [Confus'd.] I don't know, really; I'm not——I don't know that——
Leo. [Confused.] I honestly don't know; I'm not——I have no idea about that——
Don Ped. You did not know that I was here, I guess?
Don Ped. I guess you didn’t know I was here?
Leo. Yes, I did, and——came to speak with you.
Leo. Yes, I did, and——I came to talk to you.
Don Ped. I'm not at present in a talking Humour, but if your Tongue is set to Conversation, there's one behind the Wall will entertain you.
Don Ped. I'm not really in the mood to talk right now, but if you're up for a conversation, there's someone behind the wall who can entertain you.
Don Guz. But is it possible, fair Leonora, that you can pardon my Attempt?
Don Guz. But is it really possible, dear Leonora, that you can forgive my attempt?
Don Ped. [To Leo.] You hear him, Madam; he dares own it to you.
Don Ped. [To Leo.] You hear him, Ma'am; he actually admits it to you.
Leo. [Aside.] Jacinta winks; I guess what Scene they have been acting here. My Part is now to play.
Leo. [Aside.] Jacinta winks; I can only imagine what scene they've been performing here. Now it's my turn to take the stage.
[To Don Ped.] I see, Sir, he dares own it: Nor is he the first lover has pressum'd beyond the Countenance he ever has receiv'd. Pray draw near, and hear what he has more to say: It is my Interest you shou'd know the Depth of all has ever passed between us.
[To Don Ped.] I see, Sir, he dares to admit it: He is not the first lover who has assumed more than the attention he has ever received. Please come closer and listen to what he has to say: It is in my best interest for you to know everything that has happened between us.
Leo. [To Don Guz.] I fain wou'd know, Don Guzman, whether in the whole Conduct of my Life, you have known one step, that cou'd encourage you to hope I ever cou'd be yours, but on the Terms of Honour which you sought me?
Leo. [To Don Guz.] I would like to know, Don Guzman, if throughout my life you have seen a single moment that would make you think I could ever be yours, except on the terms of honor that you were after?
Don Guz. Not one.
Don Guz. Not a single one.
Leo. Why then should you believe I cou'd forgive the taking that by Force, which you already were convinc'd I valu'd more the keeping, than my Life?
Leo. So why should you think I could forgive the fact that you took something by force that you already knew I valued more than my life?
Don Guz. Had my Love been as temperate as yours, I with your Reason had perhaps debated. But not in Reason, but in Flames, I flew to Leonora.
Don Guz. If my love had been as calm as yours, I might have reasoned with you. But instead of reason, I was consumed by flames, and I rushed to Leonora.
Leo. If strong Temptation be allow'd a Plea, Vice, in the worst of Shapes, has much to urge:—No, cou'd any Thing have shaken me in Virtue, it must have been the Strength of it in you. Had you shone bright enough to dazzle me, I blindly might have missed the Path I meant to tread: But now you have clear'd my Sight for ever. If, therefore, from this Moment more you dare to let me know one Thought of Love, though in the humblest Stile, expect to be a Sacrifice to him you attempt to wrong.——Farewel!
Leo. If strong temptation has a valid excuse, vice, in its worst form, has a lot to argue:—No, if anything could have shaken my virtue, it would have been the strength of yours. Had you shone brightly enough to dazzle me, I might have blindly lost the path I intended to take: But now you have permanently cleared my vision. So, from this moment on, if you dare to share even a hint of love with me, no matter how modestly, expect to become a sacrifice to the one you try to wrong.——Goodbye!
[She retires from him.
She breaks up with him.
Don Guz. O stay and hear me!—I have wrong'd myself; I'm innocent!—--By all that's sacred, just and good, I'm innocent!
Don Guz. Please stay and listen to me! I’ve wronged myself; I’m innocent!—By everything that’s sacred, just, and good, I’m innocent!
Don Ped. [Aside.] What does he mean?
Don Ped. [Aside.] What does he mean?
Don Guz. I have own'd a Fact I am not guilty of! Jacinta can inform you; she knows I never——
Don Guz. I have owned a fact I am not guilty of! Jacinta can tell you; she knows I never——
Jacin. I know! The Man's mad: Pray, begone, Sir, my Lady will hear no more; I'll shut him out, Madam, shan't I?
Jacin. I know! The guy's insane: Please, go away, Sir, my Lady doesn't want to hear any more; I'll keep him out, Madam, shouldn’t I?
[She shuts the Hole.
She closes the Hole.
Leo. I have no farther Business with him.
Leo. I have no other business with him.
Enter Isabella hastily.
Enter Isabella quickly.
Isab. O Heavens, Leonora, where are you? Don Pedro, you can assist me better.
Isab. Oh heavens, Leonora, where are you? Don Pedro, you can help me more.
Leo. What's the Matter?
Leo. What's wrong?
Don Ped. What is it, Madam, I can serve you in?
Don Ped. What can I help you with, Madam?
Isab. In what the Peace of my whole Life consists; the Safety of my Brother! Don John's Servant has this Moment left me a Letter for him, which I have open'd, knowing there is an Animosity of some Time between 'em.
Isab. The peace of my entire life depends on the safety of my brother! Don John's servant just left me a letter for him, which I opened, aware that there has been a conflict between them for some time.
Don Ped. Well, Madam!
Don Ped. Wow, Ma'am!
Isab. O dear, it is a Challenge, and what to do I know not; if I shew it my Brother, he'll immediately fly to the Place appointed; and if I don't, he'll be accus'd of Cowardice. One way I risque his Life, t'other I ruin his Honour.
Isab. Oh dear, this is a challenge, and I don’t know what to do. If I show it to my brother, he’ll run straight to the meeting place, and if I don’t, he’ll be accused of cowardice. One way, I risk his life; the other, I ruin his honor.
Don Ped. What wou'd you have me do, Madam?
Don Ped. What do you want me to do, Madam?
Isab. I'll tell you, Sir: I only beg you'll go to the Place where Don John expects him; tell him I have intercepted his Letter, and make him promise you he'll send no more: By this generous Charity you may hinder two Men (whose, Piques are on a frivolous Occasion) from murdering one another! And by this good Office, you'll repay the small Debt you owe my Brother, for flying last Night to Leonora's Succour; and doubly pay the Obligation you have to me, upon the same Occasion.
Isab. I'll tell you, Sir: I'm just asking you to go to the place where Don John is waiting for him; let him know that I've intercepted his letter, and get him to promise you he won't send any more. By doing this generous act, you could stop two men (who are fighting over something trivial) from killing each other! And by helping out, you'll repay the small debt you owe my brother for rushing to Leonora's aid last night, and you'll also double the favor you owe me for the same reason.
Don Ped. What Obligation, Madam? I am ignorant; pray inform me.
Don Ped. What obligation, ma'am? I'm not sure; please let me know.
Isab. 'Twas I, Sir, that first heard Leonora's Cries, and rais'd my Brother to her Aid. Pray let me receive the same Assistance from your Prudence, which you have had from my Care, and my Brother's Generosity. But, pray lose no Time. Don John is perhaps already on the Spot, and not meeting my Brother, may send a second Message, which may be fatal.
Isab. It was I, Sir, who first heard Leonora's cries and woke my brother to help her. Please let me receive the same support from your wisdom that you have had from my care and my brother's generosity. But, please don’t waste any time. Don John might already be there, and if he doesn’t find my brother, he could send another message that could be deadly.
Don Ped. Madam, be at rest; you shall be satisfy'd, I'll go this Moment. I'll only ask you first whether you are sure you heard my Wife call out for Succour, before your Brother past the Wall?
Don Ped. Madam, please relax; you'll be satisfied, I'll go right now. But first, could you tell me if you are sure you heard my wife call out for help before your brother went past the wall?
Isab. I did; why do you ask that Question?
Isab. I did; why are you asking that question?
Don Ped. I have a Reason, you may be sure. [Aside.] Just Heaven, I adore thee! The Truth at last shines clear, and by that Villain Alvarada I'm betray'd. But enough; I'll make Use of this Occasion for my Vengeance. [To Isab.] Where, Madam, is it, Don John is waiting?
Don Ped. I have a reason, you can be sure of that. [Aside.] Oh, heavenly justice, I adore you! The truth finally comes to light, and that villain Alvarada has betrayed me. But enough; I’ll take this opportunity for my revenge. [To Isabel.] Where is it, madam? Is Don John waiting?
Isab. But here, in a small Field, behind the Garden.
Isab. But here, in a small field, behind the garden.
Don Ped. [Aside.] His Blood shall do me Reason for his Treachery.
Don Ped. [Aside.] His blood will give me a reason for his betrayal.
Isab. Will you go there directly?
Isab. Are you going there directly?
Don Ped. I will. Be satisfy'd.
Don Ped. I will. Be satisfied.
[Ex. Don Ped.
[Ex. Don Ped.
Leo. You weep, Isabella?
Leo. Are you crying, Isabella?
Isab. You see my Trouble for a Brother for whom I wou'd die, and a Lover for whom I wou'd live. They both are Authors of my Grief.
Isab. You see my trouble for a brother I would die for, and a lover I would live for. They are both the cause of my grief.
Leo. They both are Instruments of my Misfortune.
Leo. They are both tools of my misfortune.
[Exeunt.
[They exit.]
ACT V.
Enter Lopez.
Enter Lopez.
Oho! my good Signior Don John, you are mistaken in your Man; I am your humble Valet, 'tis true, and I am to obey you; but when you have got the Devil in your Body, and are upon your Rantipole Adventures, you shall Quixote it by yourself, for Lopez. Yonder he is, waiting for poor Guzman, with a Sword of a Fathom and a Half; a Dagger for close engagement; and (if I don't mistake) a Pocket-pistol for extraordinary Occasions. I think I am not in the wrong to keep a little out of the Way: These Matters will end in a Court of Justice, or I'm wrong in my Foresight: Now that being a Place where I am pretty well known, and not over-much reputed, I believe 'tis best, neither to come in for Prisoner nor Evidence. But hold; yonder comes another Toledo! Don Guzman I presume, but I presume wrong, it is—who is it? Don Pedro, by all the Powers! What the Pox does he here, or what the Pox do I here? I'm sure as Matters stand, I[Pg 359] ought to fly him like a Creditor; but he sees me, 'tis too late to slip him.
Oh! my good Sir Don John, you've got the wrong idea about me; I am your humble servant, that's true, and I'm here to obey you. But when you let the Devil take over and go off on your wild adventures, you can handle that on your own, because not me. Over there is Lopez, waiting for poor Guzman with a sword that's a fathom and a half long, a dagger for close fights, and (if I'm not mistaken) a pocket pistol for special occasions. I don't think I'm wrong to keep my distance: These things will end up in a courtroom, or I’m not reading the situation right. Since that's a place where I’m fairly well known, and not exactly liked, I think it’s best not to end up as either a prisoner or a witness. But wait; here comes another Toledo! I assume it's Don Guzman, but I’m wrong—it’s... who is it? Don Pedro, by all the powers! What the heck is he doing here, or what the heck am I doing here? As things stand, I should probably avoid him like a bill collector; but he sees me, and it's too late to hide.
Enter Don Pedro.
Enter Don Pedro.
Don Ped. How now, Lopez; where are you going?
Don Ped. Hey, Lopez; where are you going?
Lop. I'm going, Sir, I——I'm going—if you please——I'm going about my Business.
Lop. I'm leaving, Sir, I—I'm leaving—if you don't mind—I'm just going about my business.
Don Ped. From whence do you come?
Don Ped. Where are you from?
Lop. Only, only, Sir, from—taking the Air a little, I'm mightily muddled with a Whur——round about in my Head, for this Day or two; I'm going home to be let Blood, as fast as I can, Sir.
Lop. Just, just, Sir, from—getting some fresh air a bit, I'm really feeling dizzy with a whirl—around in my head, for the last day or two; I'm heading home to get some bloodletting done, as quickly as possible, Sir.
Don Ped. Hold, Sir; I'll let you Blood here.
Don Ped. Wait, sir; I'll give you a bloodletting here.
This Rascal may have borne some Part in this late Adventure: He's a Coward; I'll try to frighten it out of him.
This jerk might have played a role in this recent situation: He's a coward; I'll see if I can scare it out of him.
[Seizing him by the Collar, and drawing his Poniard.
[Grabbing him by the collar and pulling out his dagger.
You Traitor, you, y' are dead.
You traitor, you’re done for.
Lop. Mercy, Don Pedro!
Lop. Mercy, Don Pedro!
Don Ped. Are you not a Villain?
Don Ped. Are you not a villain?
[Lop. kneeling.
[Lop. kneeling.]
Lop. Yes; if you please.
Sure; if you'd like.
Don Ped. Is there so great a one upon Earth?
Don Ped. Is there anyone like that on Earth?
Lop. With respect to my Master——No.
Lop. With respect to my Master—No.
Don Ped. Prepare then to die!
Don Ped. Get ready to die!
Lop. Give me but Time, and I will. But, noble Don Pedro, just Don Pedro, generous Don Pedro, what is it I have done?
Lop. Just give me some time, and I will. But, kind Don Pedro, honorable Don Pedro, generous Don Pedro, what have I done?
Don Ped. What, if thou dar'st deny, I'll plunge this Dagger deep into thy Throat, and drive the Falsehood to thy Heart again. Therefore, take heed, and on thy Life declare, didst thou not this last night open my Doors to let Don Guzman in?
Don Ped. If you dare to deny it, I'll stab this knife deep into your throat and drive the lie back to your heart. So, beware, and for your own sake, declare: didn't you open my doors last night to let Don Guzman in?
Lop. Don Guzman!
Lop. Don Guzman!
Don Ped. Don Guzman! Yes, Don Guzman, Traitor; him.
Don Ped. Don Guzman! Yes, Don Guzman, Traitor; him.
Lop. Now may the Sky crush me, if I let in Don Guzman.
Lop. Now let the Sky crush me if I let in Don Guzman.
Don Ped. Who did let you in then? It was not your Master, sure! If it was him, you did your Duty; I have no more to say.
Don Ped. Who let you in then? It wasn't your Master, right? If it was him, you did your job; I have nothing else to say.
Lop. Why then, if I let in any Body else, I'm a Son of a Whore.
Lop. So, if I let anyone else in, I'm a bastard.
[Rising.
Rising.
Don Ped. Did he order you beforehand, or did you do it upon his knocking?
Don Ped. Did he ask you to do it before, or did you do it when he knocked?
Lop. Why he—I'll tell you, Sir, he——pray put up that Brilliant, it sparkles so in my Eyes, it almost blinds me—thank you, Sir.
Lop. Why he—I'll tell you, Sir, he——please put away that gem, it sparkles so much in my eyes, it's almost blinding me—thank you, Sir.
[Don Ped. puts it up.
Don Ped. puts it up.
Why, Sir, I'll tell you just how the Matter was, but I hope you won't consider me as a Party.
Why, Sir, I’ll explain exactly what happened, but I hope you won’t see me as involved in this.
Don Ped. Go on; thou art safe.
Don Ped. Go ahead; you’re safe.
Lop. Why then, Sir, when (for our Sins) you had left us, says my Master to me, Lopez, says he, go and stay at old Don Felix's House, till Don Pedro returns; they'll pass thee for his Servant, and think he has order'd thee to stay there. And then, says he, dost hear, open me the Door by Leonora's Apartment to-night, for I have a little Business, says he, to do there.
Lop. So, Sir, when you left us because of our mistakes, my Master said to me, Lopez, go and stay at old Don Felix's house until Don Pedro comes back; they'll think you're his servant and that he told you to stay there. And then, he said, do you hear me? Open the door to Leonora's room tonight because I have a little business to take care of there.
Don Ped. [Aside.] Perfidious Wretch!
Don Ped. [Aside.] Treacherous Wretch!
Lop. Indeed, I was at first a little resty, and stood off; being suspicious (for I knew the Man) that there might be some ill Intentions. But he knew me too, takes me upon the weak Side, whips out a long Sword, and by the same Means makes me do the Thing, as you have made me discover it.—[Aside.] There's neither Liberty nor Property in this Land, since the Blood of the Bourbons came amongst us.
Lop. Honestly, I was a bit hesitant at first and kept my distance; I was suspicious (since I knew the guy) that he might have bad intentions. But he recognized me too, played on my vulnerable side, pulled out a long sword, and by doing that, made me act as you’ve made me reveal it. — [Aside.] There’s no freedom or ownership in this country since the blood of the Bourbons came among us.
Don Ped. Then you let him in, as he bid you?
Don Ped. So, you let him in, just like he asked?
Lop. I did: If I had not, I had never lived to tell you the Story. Yes, I let him in.
Lop. I did: If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here to tell you the story. Yes, I let him in.
Don Ped. And what follow'd?
Don Ped. And what happened next?
Lop. Why, he follow'd.
Lop. Why, he followed.
Don Ped. What?
Don Ped. What?
Lop. His Inclinations.
Lop. His Interests.
Don Ped. Which Way?
Don Ped. Which Way?
Lop. The old Way:—To a Woman.
Lop. The traditional way:—To a Woman.
Don Ped.. Confound him!
Don Ped. Damn him!
Lop. In short, he got to Madam's Chamber, and before he had been there long, (tho' you know, Sir, a little Time goes a great Way in some Matters) I heard such a clutter of small Shot, Murder, Murder, Murder, Rape, Fire, Help, and so forth—But hold, here he comes[Pg 361] himself, and can give you a more circumstantial Account of the Skirmish.
Lop. In short, he arrived at Madam's Chamber, and before he had been there long, (though you know, Sir, that a little time can go a long way in some situations) I heard such a racket of small shots, "Murder, Murder, Murder, Rape, Fire, Help," and so on—But wait, here he comes[Pg 361] himself, and he can give you a more detailed account of the skirmish.
Don Ped. I thank thee, Heaven, at last, for having pointed me to the Victim I am to sacrifice.
Don Ped. I thank you, Heaven, at last, for showing me the Victim I need to sacrifice.
[Ex. Lop.
[Ex. Lop.
Enter Don John.
Enter Don John.
[Drawing.] Villain, defend thyself.
[Drawing.] Villain, defend yourself.
Don John. What do you mean?
Don John. What do you mean?
Don Ped. To punish a Traitor.
Don Ped. To punish a traitor.
Don John. Where is he?
Don John. Where's he?
Don Ped. In the Heart of a sworn Friend.
Don Ped. In the Heart of a sworn Friend.
Don John. [Aside.] I saw Lopez, go from him, without doubt he has told him all.
Don John. [Aside.] I saw Lopez leave him; there's no question he has told him everything.
[To Don Ped.
To Don Ped.
Of what am I suspected?
What am I being suspected of?
Don Ped. Of betraying the greatest Trust that Man cou'd place in Man.
Don Ped. of betraying the greatest trust that one could place in another.
Don John. And by whom am I accus'd?
Don John. And who am I being accused by?
Don Ped. By me: Have at thy Traitor's Heart!
Don Ped. By me: Take that, you traitor!
Don John. Hold! And be not quite a Madman.—Pedro, you know me well: You know I am not backward upon these Occasions, nor shall I refuse you any Satisfaction you'll demand; but first, I will be heard, and tell you, That for a Man of Sense, you are pleas'd to make very odd Conclusions.
Don John. Wait! And don’t be such a Madman.—Pedro, you know me well: You know I’m not shy about these things, nor will I deny you any satisfaction you ask for; but first, I need to speak and tell you that for someone sensible, you’re making some very strange conclusions.
Don Ped. Why, what is it possible thou canst invent to clear thyself?
Don Ped. So, what could you possibly come up with to clear your name?
Don John. To clear myself! Of what? I'm to be thank'd for what I have done, and not reproach'd. I find I have been an Ass, and push'd my Friendship to that Point, you find not Virtue in yourself enough to conceive it in another. But henceforward, I shall be a better Husband of it.
Don John. To defend myself! Of what? I deserve thanks for what I've done, not blame. I've realized I’ve been foolish and pushed my friendship to a point where you can’t even imagine it in anyone else. But from now on, I'll be a better steward of it.
Don Ped. I shou'd be loth to find Ingratitude cou'd e'er be justly charg'd upon me: But after what your Servant has confess'd——
Don Ped. I would hate to think that ingratitude could ever be justly blamed on me: But after what your servant has confessed——
Don John. My Servant! Right, my Servant! The very Thing I guess'd. Fye, fye, Don Pedro; is it from a Servant's Mouth a Friend condemns a Friend? Or can Servants always judge at what their Master's outward Actions point? But some Allowances I shou'd[Pg 362] make for the wild Agitation you must needs be in. I'm therefore calm, and thus far pass all by.
Don John. My servant! That's right, my servant! Just what I suspected. Come on, Don Pedro; is it right for a friend to judge another friend through a servant's words? Can servants really understand what their master's actions are about? But I should definitely take into account the wild emotions you're experiencing. So, I’m keeping my cool, and I’ll let this slide for now.
Don Ped. If you are innocent, Heaven be my Aid, that I may find you so. But still——
Don Ped. If you're innocent, may Heaven help me find out if you are. But still——
Don John. But still you wrong me, if you still suspect. Hear then, in short, my part of this Adventure. In order to acquit myself of the Charge you laid upon me in your Absence, I went last night, just as 'twas dark, to view the several Approaches of the House where you had left your Wife; and I observ'd not far from one of the back Doors, two Persons in close eager Conference: I was disguis'd, so ventur'd to pass near 'em, and by a Word or two I heard, I found 'twas Guzman talking to Jacinta. My Concern for your Honour, made me at first resolve to call him to an immediate Account. But then reflecting that I might possibly over-hear some Part of their Discourse, and by that judge of Leonora's Thoughts, I rein'd my Passion in; and by the help of an advancing Buttress, which kept me from their Sight, I learnt the black Conspiracy. Don Guzman said, he had great Complaint to make; and since his honourable Love had been so ill return'd, he could with ease forgive himself, if by some rougher Means he should procure, what Prayers and Tears and Sighs had urg'd in vain.
Don John. But you're still wrong if you continue to suspect me. Listen, in brief, about my part in this situation. To clear my name from the accusations you made while you were away, I went last night, right as it was getting dark, to check out the various ways to the house where you left your wife. I noticed, not far from one of the back doors, two people in an intense discussion. I was disguised, so I dared to get close, and from a word or two I overheard, I recognized it was Guzman talking to Jacinta. My concern for your reputation made me consider confronting him right away. But then, thinking that I might overhear some part of their conversation and understand Leonora's feelings, I held back my anger. Thanks to a nearby buttress that kept me hidden, I discovered their dreadful plot. Don Guzman complained that he had a significant grievance to address; and since his honorable love had been met with such disdain, he could easily forgive himself if he were to use harsher methods to get what prayers, tears, and sighs had unsuccessfully begged for.
Don Ped. Go on.
Don Ped. Go ahead.
Don John. His kind Assistant clos'd smoothly with him, and inform'd him with what ease that very Night she'd introduce him to her Chamber. At last, they parted, with this Agreement, that at some Overture in a Wall, he should expect her to inform him when Leonora was in Bed, and all the Coast was clear.
Don John. His helpful assistant smoothly finished up with him and told him how easily she’d bring him to her room that very night. Finally, they parted with the agreement that at some signal in a wall, he should wait for her to let him know when Leonora was in bed and when it was safe to proceed.
Don Ped. Dispatch the rest—Is't possible after all he should be innocent!
Don Ped. Send the others away—Is it really possible that he might be innocent after all?
Don John. I must confess the Resolution taken, made me tremble for you: How to prevent it now and for ever, was my next Care. I immediately order'd Lopez to go lie at Don Felix's, and to open me the Door when all the Family were in Bed. He did as I directed him. I enter'd, and in the dark found my way to Leonora's[Pg 363] Apartment. I found the Door open, at which I was surpriz'd. I thought I heard some stirring in her Chamber, and in an Instant heard her cry for Aid. At this I drew, and rush'd into the Room, which Guzman, alarm'd at, cry'd out to her Assistance. His ready Impudence, I must confess, at first quite struck me speechless; but in a Moment I regain'd my Tongue, and loud proclaim'd the Traitor.
Don John. I have to admit that the resolution made me worry about you: figuring out how to stop it now and forever became my main concern. I quickly ordered Lopez to go stay at Don Felix’s place and to let me in when the whole family was in bed. He followed my instructions. I entered and found my way to Leonora’s[Pg 363] room in the dark. I was surprised to find the door open. I thought I heard some movement in her chamber, and suddenly I heard her cry for help. At this, I drew my weapon and rushed into the room, which Guzman, startled, shouted for her assistance. His boldness took me by surprise at first; I was speechless for a moment. But soon enough, I found my voice and shouted out the traitor's name.
Don Ped. Is't possible?
Don Ped. Is it possible?
Don John. Yet more: your Arrival hindring me at that Time from taking Vengeance for your Wrong, I at this Instant expect him here, to punish him (with Heaven's righteous Aid) for daring to attempt my Ruin with the Man, whose Friendship I prefer to all the Blessings Heaven and Earth dispense. And now, Don Pedro, I have told you this, if still you have a Mind to take my Life, I shall defend it with the self-same Warmth I intended to expose it in your Service.
Don John. Furthermore, your arrival prevented me from getting revenge for the wrong you did to me. Right now, I’m expecting him here to punish him (with Heaven's help) for daring to try to ruin me with the man whose friendship I value above all the blessings Heaven and Earth offer. And now, Don Pedro, I've shared this with you; if you still want to take my life, I will defend it with the same passion I intended to risk it for your sake.
[Draws.
Draws.
Don Ped. [Aside.] If I did not know he was in love with Leonora, I could be easily surpriz'd with what he has told me. But—But yet 'tis certain he has destroyed the Proofs against him; and if I only hold him guilty as a Lover; why must Don Guzman pass for innocent? Good Gods, I am again returning to my Doubts!
Don Ped. [Aside.] If I didn't know he was in love with Leonora, I would be easily surprised by what he just told me. But—But still, it's clear he has destroyed the evidence against him; and if I only see him as a guilty Lover, why does Don Guzman get to appear innocent? Good God, I'm getting caught up in my doubts again!
Don John. [Aside.] I have at last reduc'd him to a Balance, but one Lye more tost in, will turn the Scale.
Don John. [Aside.] I have finally brought him to a balance, but one more lie thrown in will tip the scales.
To Don Ped.] One Obligation more, my Friend, you owe me; I thought to have let it pass, but it shall out. Know then, I lov'd, like you, the beauteous Leonora; but from the Moment I observ'd how deep her Dart had pierc'd you, tore my Passion from my bleeding Heart, and sacrific'd my Happiness to yours. Now, I have no more to plead; if still you think your Vengeance is my due, come pay it me.
To Don Ped.] There's one more thing you owe me, my friend. I was going to let it slide, but I can't. So, know this: I loved, just like you, the beautiful Leonora; but from the moment I saw how deeply her arrow had struck you, I pulled my love from my aching heart and sacrificed my happiness for yours. Now, I have nothing more to say; if you still think I deserve your vengeance, come and take it.
Don Ped. Rather ten thousand Poignards strike me dead! O Alvarada! can you forgive a wild distracted Friend? Gods! Whither was my jealous Frenzy leading me? Can you forget this barbarous Injury?
Don Ped. I'd rather be struck dead by ten thousand daggers! O Alvarada! Can you forgive a wild, distraught friend? Gods! Where was my jealousy leading me? Can you forget this cruel injury?
Don John. I can: No more. But for the future, think me what I am, a faithful and a zealous Friend.—[Pg 364]Retire, and leave me here. In a few Moments I hope to bring you further Proofs on't. Guzman I instantly expect, leave me to do you Justice on him.
Don John. I can’t do anymore. But in the future, consider me what I am, a loyal and devoted friend.—[Pg 364]Step back and let me be here. In a few moments, I hope to provide you with more evidence of that. Guzman I’m expecting right away, allow me to take care of him for you.
Don Ped. That must not be. My Revenge can ne'er be satisfy'd by any other Hand but this.
Don Ped. That can’t happen. My revenge can never be satisfied by anyone else's hands but this one.
Don John. Then let That do't. You'll in a Moment have an Opportunity.
Don John. Then let that happen. You'll have a chance in a moment.
Don Ped. You mistake; he won't be here.
Don Ped. You're mistaken; he won't be here.
Don John. How so?
Don John. How come?
Don Ped. He has not had your Challenge. His Sister intercepted it, and desired I wou'd come to prevent the Quarrel.
Don Ped. He hasn't received your challenge. His sister intercepted it and asked me to come to stop the fight.
Don John. What then is to be done?
Don John. So what should we do now?
Don Ped. I'll go and find him out immediately.
Don Ped. I'll go find him right away.
Don John. Very well: Or hold——[Aside.] I must hinder 'em from talking. Gossiping may discover me. Yes: let's go and find him: Or, let me see——Aye,——'twill do better.
Don John. Alright: Or wait——[Aside.] I need to stop them from talking. Chit-chat could reveal me. Yes: let's go find him: Or, let me think——Yeah,——that would work better.
Don Ped. What?
Don Ped. Huh?
Don John. Why——That the Punishment should suit the Crime.
Don John. Why—The punishment should fit the crime.
Don Ped. Explain.
Don Ped. Explain.
Don John. Attack him by his own Laws of War— 'Twas in the Night he would have had your Honour, and in the Night you ought to have his Life.
Don John. Fight him with his own rules of war— It was at night that he would have taken your honor, and at night, you should take his life.
Don Ped. His Treason cannot take the Guilt from mine.
Don Ped. His treason doesn't erase the guilt from mine.
Don John. There is no Guilt in fair Retaliation. When 'tis a Point of Honour sounds the Quarrel, the Laws of Sword-Men must be kept, 'tis true: But if a Thief glides in to seize my Treasure, methinks I may return the Favour on my Dagger's Point, as well as with my Sword of Ceremony six Times as long.
Don John. There’s no shame in fair revenge. When a conflict arises from a matter of honor, the rules of duelists must be followed, that’s true. But if a thief sneaks in to steal my treasure, I think I can repay the favor with my dagger just as effectively as with my ceremonial sword, which is six times longer.
Don Ped. Yet still the nobler Method I wou'd choose; it better satisfies the Vengeance of a Man of Honour.
Don Ped. But still, I would choose the nobler approach; it better serves the sense of justice for a man of honor.
Don John. I own it, were you sure you shou'd succeed: But the Events of Combats are uncertain. Your Enemy may 'scape you: You perhaps may only wound him; you may be parted. Believe me, Pedro, the Injury's too great for a Punctilio Satisfaction.
Don John. I get that you think you'll succeed: But the outcomes of fights are unpredictable. Your enemy might get away from you; you could just end up wounding him; you could be separated. Trust me, Pedro, the damage is way too significant for a trivial resolution.
Don Ped. Well, guide me as you please, so you direct me quickly to my Vengeance. What do you propose?
Don Ped. Well, lead me as you wish, just get me to my revenge quickly. What do you suggest?
Don John. That which is as easy, as 'tis just to execute. The Wall he passed, to attempt your Wife, let us get over to prevent his doing so any more. 'Twill let us into a private Apartment by his Garden, where every Evening in his amorous Solitudes he spends some Time alone, and where I guess his late fair Scheme was drawn. The Deed done, we can retreat the Way we enter'd; let me be your Pilot, 'tis now e'en dark, and the most proper Time.
Don John. It's as easy as it is right to carry this out. He went past the wall to try to approach your wife; let’s move quickly to stop him from doing it again. It will lead us into a private area through his garden, where he spends time alone every evening in his romantic solitude, and where I suspect he devised his recent plan. Once we’re done, we can leave the way we came in; let me guide you, it’s getting dark now, which is the best time for this.
Don Ped. Lead on; I'll follow you.
Don Ped. Lead the way; I’ll follow.
Don John. [Aside.] How many Villanies I'm forc'd to act, to keep one secret!
Don John. [Aside.] How many bad things I have to do to keep one secret!
[Exeunt.
[Exit.]
SCENE, Don. Guzmán's Apartments.
Don Guzman, sitting solus.
Don Guzman, sitting alone.
With what Rigour does this unfaithful Woman treat me! Is't possible it can be me, who appeared to love me with so much Tenderness? How little stress is to be laid upon a Woman's Heart! Sure they're not worth those anxious Cares they give. [Rising.] Then burst my Chains, and give me Room to search for nobler Pleasures. I feel my Heart begin to mutiny for Liberty; there is a Spirit in it yet, will struggle hard for Freedom: but Solitude's the worst of Seconds. Ho! Sancho, Galindo, who waits there? Bring some Lights.—Where are you?
With what intensity does this unfaithful woman treat me! Is it really possible that I'm the one she seemed to love so much? How little we can rely on a woman's heart! They're really not worth all the anxiety they cause. [Rising.] Then break my chains and give me space to seek out greater pleasures. I feel my heart start to rebel for freedom; there's a spirit inside me that will fight hard for liberty: but solitude is the worst companion. Hey! Sancho, Galindo, who’s there? Bring some lights.—Where are you?
Enter Galindo, rubbing his Eyes, and drunk.
Enter Galindo, rubbing his eyes and drunk.
Galin. I can't well tell. Do you want me, Sir?
Galin. I'm not sure. Do you need me, Sir?
Don Guz. Yes, Sir, I want you. Why am I left in the dark? What were you doing?
Don Guz. Yes, Sir, I want you. Why am I being kept in the dark? What were you up to?
Gal. Doing, Sir! I was doing——what one does when one sleeps, Sir.
Gal. Doing, Sir! I was doing—what you do when you sleep, Sir.
Don Guz. Have you no Light without?
Don Guz. Do you have no light outside?
Galin. [Yawning.] Light!—--No, Sir,——I have no Light. I'm us'd to Hardship, I can sleep in the dark.
Galin. [Yawning.] Light!—No, Sir, I don’t have any Light. I'm used to Hardship; I can sleep in the dark.
Don Guz. You have been drinking, you Rascal, you are drunk.
Don Guz. You've been drinking, you rascal, you're drunk.
Gal. I have been drinking, Sir, 'tis true, but I am not drunk. Every Man that is drunk, has been drinking, confess'd. But every Man that has been drinking, is not drunk.——Confess that too.
Gal. I've been drinking, Sir, it's true, but I'm not drunk. Every person who is drunk has been drinking, that's a fact. But not everyone who has been drinking is drunk. Confess that too.
Don Guz. Who is't has put you in this Condition, you Sot?
Don Guz. Who put you in this situation, you fool?
Galin. A very honest Fellow: Madam Leonora's Coachman, nobody else. I have been making a little debauch with Madam Leonora's Coachman; yes.
Galin. A very honest guy: Madam Leonora's driver, no one else. I've been having a little party with Madam Leonora's driver; yes.
Don Guz. How came you to drink with him, Beast?
Don Guz. How did you end up drinking with him, Beast?
Gal. Only per Complaisance, Sir. The Coachman was to be drunk upon Madam's Wedding; and I being a Friend, was desired to take Part.
Gal. Just out of courtesy, Sir. The Coachman was supposed to be drunk at Madam's wedding, and since I'm a friend, I was asked to join in.
Don Guz. And so, you Villain, you can make yourself merry, with what renders me miserable.
Don Guz. So, you villain, you can have your fun with what makes me miserable.
Galin. No, Sir, no; 'twas the Coachman was merry; I drank with Tears in my Eyes. The remembrance of your Misfortunes made me so sad, so sad, that every Cup I swallow'd was like a Cup of Poison to me.
Galin. No, Sir, no; it was the Coachman who was cheerful; I drank with tears in my eyes. Remembering your troubles made me so sad, so sad, that every drink I took felt like sipping poison.
Don Guz. Without doubt.
Don Guz. No doubt.
Galin. Yes; and to mortify myself upon melancholy Matters, I believe I took down fifty; yes.
Galin. Yes; and to torture myself with gloomy thoughts, I think I wrote down fifty; yes.
Don Guz. Go fetch some Lights, you drunken Sot, you.
Don Guz. Go get some lights, you drunk fool.
Galin. I will, if I can find the [Feeling for the Door and running against it.] Door, that's so say——The Devil's in the Door; I think 'tis grown too little for me——Shrunk this wet Weather, I presume.
Galin. I will, if I can find the [Feeling for the Door and running against it.] Door, let's just say——The Devil's in the Door; I think it’s shrunk too much for me——Must have shrunk in this wet Weather, I guess.
[Ex. Galin.
[Ex. Galin.
Don Guzman alone.
Guzman by himself.
Absence, the old Remedy for Love, must e'en be mine: to stay and brave the Danger, were Presumption: Farewel Valencia, then, and farewel, Leonora. And if thou can'st, my Heart, redeem thy Liberty, secure it by a Farewel eternal to her Sex.
Absence, the old solution for love, has to be mine: to stay and face the danger would be reckless. Goodbye Valencia, and goodbye, Leonora. And if you can, my heart, win back your freedom by bidding an eternal farewell to her kind.
Re-enter Galindo with a Candle, he falls, and puts it out.
Re-enter Galindo with a candle, he trips and extinguishes it.
Galin. Here's light, Sir——So,——
Galin. Here's the light, Sir——So,——
Don Guz. Well done. You sottish [Passing angrily into another Chamber.] Rascal, come no more in my Sight.
Don Guz. Well done. You foolish [Passing angrily into another room.] Rascal, don't come back into my sight.
[Ex. Don Guz.
[Ex. Don Guz.
Galin. These Boards are so uneven—— You shall see now I shall neither find [Rising and feeling about for the Candle.] the Candle——nor the Candlestick; It shan't be for want of searching, however.
Galin. These boards are so uneven— Just watch, I won’t be able to find [Rising and feeling around for the candle.] the candle—or the candlestick; It won't be for lack of trying, though.
----O ho, have I got you? Enough, I'll look for your Companion to-morrow.
----Oh wow, did I catch you? Alright, I'll search for your friend tomorrow.
Enter Don Pedro and Don John.
Enter Don Pedro and Don John.
Don Ped. Where are we now?
Don Ped. Where are we?
Don John. We are in the Apartment I told you of——Softly——I hear something stir——Ten to one but 'tis he.
Don John. We're in the apartment I mentioned——Quietly——I hear something moving——It's likely him.
Galin. Don't I hear, somewhat?——No——when one has Wine in one's Head, one has such a bustle in one's Ears.
Galin. Am I hearing things?——No——when you have wine in your system, there's such a rush in your ears.
Don Pedro. [To Don John.] Who is that is talking to himself?
Don Pedro. [To Don John.] Who's that talking to themselves?
Don John. 'Tis his Servant, I know his Voice, keep still.
Don John. It's his servant, I recognize his voice, stay quiet.
Galin. Well; since my Master has banished me his Sight, I'll redeem by my Obedience, what I have lost by my Debauch. I'll go sleep twelve Hours in some melancholy Hole where the Devil Shan't find me; yes.
Galin. Well, since my Master has kicked me out of his sight, I'll make up for what I lost through my partying by being obedient. I'll go sleep for twelve hours in some dark hole where the Devil can't find me; yes.
[Exit Galindo.
[Exit Galindo.
Don John. He's gone; but hush, I hear somebody coming.
Don John. He’s gone; but wait, I hear someone coming.
Don Guz. Ho there! will nobody bring Light?
Don Guz. Hey there! Is there no one who can bring some light?
[Behind the Scene.
[Behind the Scenes.
Don Ped. 'Tis Guzman.
Don Ped. It's Guzman.
Don John. 'Tis so, prepare.
Don John. It's true, get ready.
Don Ped. Shall I own my Weakness? I feel an inward Check; I wish this could be done some other way.
Don Ped. Should I admit my weakness? I feel a deep sense of hesitation; I wish there was another way to handle this.
Don John. Distraction all! Is this a Time to balance? Think on the Injury he would have done you, 'twill fortify your Arm, and guide your Dagger to his Heart.
Don John. Everyone, pay attention! Is this a time to be distracted? Consider the harm he would have done you; it will strengthen your arm and direct your dagger to his heart.
Don Ped. Enough, I'll hesitate no more; be satisfy'd; hark! he's coming.
Don Ped. Enough, I won't hesitate any longer; be ready; listen! He's on his way.
Don Guzman passes the Stage.
Don Guzman passes the Stage.
Don Guz. I think these Rogues are resolved to leave me in the dark all Night.
Don Guz. I think these guys have decided to keep me in the dark all night.
[Exit Don Guz.
[Exit Don Guz.
Don John. Now's your Time, follow him and strike home.
Don John. This is your moment, follow him and hit hard.
Don Ped. To his Heart, if my Dagger will reach it.
Don Ped. To his heart, if my dagger can reach it.
[Don Pedro follows him.
Don Pedro follows him.
Don John. [Aside.] If one be kill'd, I'm satisfy'd; 'tis no great Matter which.
Don John. [Aside.] If one gets killed, I'm okay with that; it doesn't really matter which one.
Re-enter Don Guzman, Don Pedro following him, with his Dagger ready to strike.
Don Guzman comes back in, followed by Don Pedro, with his dagger ready to attack.
Don Guz. [Aside.] My Chamber Door's lock'd, and I think I hear somebody tread——Who's there?——Nobody answers. But still I hear something stir. Hola there! Sancho, are you all drunk? Some Lights here, quickly.
Don Guz. [Aside.] My chamber door is locked, and I think I hear someone walking — Who's there? — No one answers. But I still hear something moving. Hey! Sancho, are you all drunk? Get some lights here, quickly.
[Exit.
[Exit.
Don Guzman passes by the Corner where Don John stands, and goes of the Stage; Dan Pedro following him, stabs Don John.
Don Guzman walks past the corner where Don John is standing and exits the stage; Don Pedro follows him and stabs Don John.
Don Ped. [Aside.] I think I'm near him now:——Traitor, take that, my Wife has sent it thee.
Don Ped. [Aside.] I think I'm close to him now:——Traitor, take this, my wife has sent it to you.
Don John. Ah, I'm dead!
Don John. Ah, I'm toast!
Don Ped. Then thou hast thy Due.
Don Ped. Then you have your Due.
Don John. I have, indeed; 'tis I that have betray'd thee.
Don John. I have, indeed; it’s me who has betrayed you.
Don Ped. And 'tis I that am reveng'd on thee for doing it.
Don Ped. And it’s me who’s getting back at you for doing that.
Don John. I wou'd have forc'd thy Wife.
Don John. I would have forced your wife.
Don Ped. Die then with the Regret to have fail'd in thy Attempt.
Don Ped. Die then with the regret of having failed in your attempt.
Don John. Farewel, if thou can'st forgive me—
Don John. Goodbye, if you can forgive me—
[Dies.
Dies.
Don Ped. I have done the Deed, there's nothing left but to make our Escape. Don John, where are you? Let's begone, I hear the Servants coming.
Don Ped. I’ve done the deed, there’s nothing left but to make our escape. Don John, where are you? Let’s get out of here, I hear the servants coming.
Lopez knocks hard at the Door.
Lopez knocks loudly on the door.
Lop. Open there quickly, open the Door.
Lop. Open up quickly, open the door.
Don Ped. That's Lopez, we shall be discover'd. But 'tis no great Matter, the Crime will justify the Execution; but where's Don John? Don John, where are you?
Don Ped. That’s Lopez, we’re going to get caught. But it’s not a big deal; the crime will justify the punishment. But where’s Don John? Don John, where are you?
Lopez knocks again.
Lopez knocks again.
Lop. Open the Door there, quickly. Madam, I saw 'em both pass the Wall; the Devil's in't if any good comes on't.
Lop. Open the door over there, quickly. Madam, I saw them both go past the wall; it’s bad news if anything good comes of it.
Leo. I am frightened out of my Senses: ho, Isabella!
Leo. I'm scared out of my mind: hey, Isabella!
Don Ped. 'Tis Leonora. She's welcome. With her own Eyes let her see her Guzman dead.
Don Ped. 'It's Leonora. She's welcome. Let her see with her own eyes that her Guzman is dead.
Enter Don Guzman, Leonora, Isabella, Jacinta and Lopez, with Lights.
Enter Don Guzman, Leonora, Isabella, Jacinta, and Lopez, with Lights.
Don Ped. Ha! what is't I see? Guzman alive? Then who art thou?
Don Ped. Ha! What do I see? Guzman is alive? Then who are you?
[Looking on Don John.
[Checking out Don John.
Don Guz. Guzman alive! Yes, Pedro, Guzman is alive.
Don Guzman is alive! Yes, Pedro, Guzman is alive.
Don Ped. Then Heaven is just, and there's a Traitor dead.
Don Ped. So, Heaven is just, and there's a traitor dead.
Isabella weeps.] Alas, Don John!
Isabella cries. Alas, Don John!
Lop. [Looking upon Don John.] Bonus Nocius.
Lop. [Looking at Don John.] Bonus Nocius.
Don Guz. What has produced this bloody Scene?
Don Guz. What caused this mess?
Don Ped. 'Tis I have been the Actor in't;——my Poignard, Guzman, I intended in your Heart.——I thought your Crime deserv'd it: but I did you wrong, and my Hand in searching the Innocent, has by Heaven's justice been directed to the Guilty. Don John, with his last Breath, confess'd himself the Offender.—Thus my Revenge is satisfied, and you are clear'd.
Don Ped. It's me who played the part;——my dagger, Guzman, was meant for your heart.——I thought you deserved it for your crime: but I was wrong, and in trying to find the innocent, my hand, by Heaven's justice, ended up on the guilty. Don John, with his last breath, admitted he was the one at fault.—So now my revenge is complete, and you're off the hook.
Don Guz. Good Heaven, how equitable are thy Judgments!
Don Guz. Good heavens, how fair are your judgments!
Don Ped. [To Leo.] Come, Madam, my Honour now is satisfied, and if you please my Love may be so too.
Don Ped. [To Leo.] Come on, Madam, I’m satisfied with my honor now, and if you’re okay with it, my love can be too.
Leo. If it is not,
Leo. If it isn't,
EPILOGUE,
Spoken by Mrs. Oldfield.
Spoken by Mrs. Oldfield.
It's incredibly difficult to endure a favorite's assault.
If Guzman breaks in on her like Don John,
Despite all her goodness, may Heaven have mercy on her:
I doubt her strength lies in his uncertainty,
There are amazing benefits in strong execution.
You guys are really foolish; you just won’t believe
What awful things we women can forgive:
I know of only one that we never ignore, And that you trouble us forever;
When you're worried about displeasing,
You won't attack the Town that you are besieging:
*Your guns are lightweight and placed out of reach:*
Do you think a love letter will cause a rift?
It's all small shot, and no stone will fly:
Walls fall by cannon fire, and by shooting nearby: You hold the field in slow, boring blockades,
And let us starve before we give in with Honor. In summary— We can't accept those Terms you kindly offer,
But storm, and we can respond to our Surrender.
END of the FIRST VOLUME
END of the FIRST VOLUME
PLAYS printed for T. Lowndes, at 6d. each.
PLAYS available from T. Lowndes, for 6 pence each.
- A Bramule, by Dr. Trapp
- Adventures of Half an Hour
- Albion and Albanius, by Dryden
- Alchymist, by Ben Johnson
- Alcibiades, by Otway
- All for Love, by Dryden
- Ambitious Step-mother, by Rowe
- Amboyna, by Dryden
- Amphitryon, by Dryden
- Anatomist, by Ravenscroft
- Anna Bullen, by Bankes
- As You Like It, by Shakespeare
- Artful Husband, by Taverner
- Athaliah, by Mr. Duncomb
- Aurengzebe, by Dryden
- Bartholomew Fair, by Ben Johnson
- Baffet Table, by Centlivre
- Beaux Stratagem, by Farquhar
- Beggar's Opera, by Gay
- Biter, by Rowe
- Bold Stroke for a Wife
- British Enchanters, by Lansdown
- Busiris, by Dr. Young
- Busy Body, by Centlivre
- Caius Marius, by Otway
- Careless Husband, by Cibber
- Catiline, by Ben Johnson
- Cato, by Addison
- Chances, by D. Buckingham
- Chaplet, by Mr. Mendez
- Cleomenes, by Dryden
- Cobler of Preston
- Comedy of Errors, by Shakespeare
- Conscious Lovers, by Cibber
- Committee, by Sir R. Howard
- Confederacy, by Vanbrugh
- Conscious Lovers, by Steele
- Constant Couple, by Farquhar
- Contrivances, by Carey
- Country Lasses, by B. Johnson
- Country Wife, by Wycherly
- Cymbeline, altered by Mr. Garrick
- Damon and Phillida, by Mr. Dibdin
- Devil of a Wife
- Devil to Pay, by Coffey
- Distressed Mother, by Am. Philips
- Don Carlos, by Otway
- Double Dealer, by Congreve
- Double Gallant, by Cibber
- Dragon of Wantley [Pg 372]
- Drummer, by Addison
- Duke and no Duke, by Sir A. Cockain
- Duke of Guise, by Dryden
- Earl of Essex, by Bankes
- Every Man in his Humour
- Fair Penitent, by Rowe
- Fair Quaker of Deal, by C. Shadwell
- False Friend
- Fatal Curiosity
- Fatal Secret, by Theobald
- Fiora, or Hob in the Well
- Fox, by Ben Johnson
- Friendship in Fashion, by Otway
- Funeral, by Sir R. Steele
- Gamesier, by Mrs. Centlivre
- Gentle Shepherd
- George Barnwell, by Lillo
- Gloriana
- Greenwich Park
- Hamlet, by Shakespeare
- Henry IV. 2 Parts, by ditto
- Henry V. by ditto
- Henry VI. 3 Parts, by ditto
- Henry VIII. by ditto
- Henry V. by Aaron Hill
- Honest Yorkshireman
- Jane Gray, by Rowe
- Jane Shore, by Rowe
- Inconstant, by Farquhar
- King John, by Shakespeare
- King Lear, by ditto
- King Lear, by Tate
- Limberham, by Dryden
- Love for Love, by Congreve
- Love in a Mist
- Love in a Tub, by Etherege
- Love makes a Man, by C. Cibber
- Love's Last shift, by Cibber
- Lying Lover, by Steele
- Macbeth, by Shakespeare
- Man of Mode, by Etherege
- Marianne, by Fenton
- Measure for Measure, by Shakespeare
- Merchant of Venice, by Shakespeare
- Mistake, by Vanbrugh
- Mourning Bride, by Congreve
- Much ado about Nothing
- Mustapha, by Lord Orrery
- Nonjurer, by C. Cibber
- Oedipus, by Dryden
- Old Bachelor, by Congreve
- Oroonoko, by Southern
- Orphan, by Otway
- Othello, by Shakespeare
- Perjured Husband
- Perolla and Isidora, by C. Cibber
- Phædra and Hippolitus, by Smith
- Pilgrim, by Beaumont and Fletcher
- Polly, by Mr. Gay
- Prophetess, by Beaumont
- Provok'd Husband, by C. Cibber
- Provok'd Wife, by Vanbrugh
- Recruiting Officer, by Farquhar
- Refusal, by Cibber
- Rehearsal, by of Buck.
- Relapse, by Vanbrugh.
- Revenge, by Dr. Young.
- Richard III. by C. Cibber.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
Drop caps began most of the Scene beginnings in volume 1. However, did not use drop caps for any scene beginnings in volume 1 to conform to standard used in volume 2.
Drop caps started most of the scene beginnings in volume 1. However, they didn't use drop caps for any scene beginnings in volume 1 to match the standard used in volume 2.
Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors.
Silently fixed basic spelling, grammar, and typing mistakes.
Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
Retained outdated and non-standard spellings as printed.
Download ePUB
If you like this ebook, consider a donation!