Scarborough and the Critic
by
Sheridan
Part 1 out of 3
Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
A TRIP TO SCARBOROUGH
_A COMEDY_
DRAMATIS PERSONĘ
AS ORIGINALLY ACTED AT DRURY LANE THEATRE IN 1777
LORD FOPPINGTON _Mr. Dodd._
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY _Mr. Moody._
COLONEL TOWNLY _Mr. Brereton._
LOVELESS _Mr. Smith._
TOM FASHION _Mr. J. Palmer._
LA VAROLE _Mr. Burton._
LORY _Mr. Baddeley._
PROBE _Mr. Parsons._
MENDLEGS _Mr. Norris._
JEWELLER _Mr. Lamash_
SHOEMAKER _Mr. Carpenter._
TAILOR _Mr. Parker._
AMANDA _Mrs. Robinson._
BERINTHIA _Miss Farren._
MISS HOYDEN _Mrs. Abington._
MRS. COUPLER _Mrs. Booth._
NURSE _Mrs. Bradshaw._
Sempstress, Postilion, Maid, _and_ Servants.
SCENE--SCARBOROUGH AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.
PROLOGUE
SPOKEN BY MR. KING
What various transformations we remark,
From east Whitechapel to the west Hyde Park!
Men, women, children, houses, signs, and fashions,
State, stage, trade, taste, the humours and the passions;
The Exchange, 'Change Alley, wheresoe'er you're ranging,
Court, city, country, all are changed or changing
The streets, some time ago, were paved with stones,
Which, aided by a hackney-coach, half broke your bones.
The purest lovers then indulged in bliss;
They ran great hazard if they stole a kiss.
One chaste salute!--the damsel cried--Oh, fie!
As they approach'd--slap went the coach awry--
Poor Sylvia got a bump, and Damon a black eye.
But now weak nerves in hackney-coaches roam,
And the cramm'd glutton snores, unjolted, home;
Of former times, that polish'd thing a beau,
Is metamorphosed now from top to toe;
Then the full flaxen wig, spread o'er the shoulders,
Conceal'd the shallow head from the beholders.
But now the whole's reversed--each fop appears,
Cropp'd and trimm'd up, exposing head and ears:
The buckle then its modest limits knew,
Now, like the ocean, dreadful to the view,
Hath broke its bounds, and swallowed up the shoe:
The wearer's foot like his once fine estate,
Is almost lost, the encumbrance is so great.
Ladies may smile--are they not in the plot?
The bounds of nature have not they forgot?
Were they design'd to be, when put together,
Made up, like shuttlecocks, of cork and feather?
Their pale-faced grandmammas appeared with grace
When dawning blushes rose upon the face;
No blushes now their once-loved station seek;
The foe is in possession of the cheek!
No heads of old, too high in feather'd state,
Hinder'd the fair to pass the lowest gate;
A church to enter now, they must be bent,
If ever they should try the experiment.
As change thus circulates throughout the nation,
Some plays may justly call for alteration;
At least to draw some slender covering o'er,
That _graceless wit_
[Footnote: "And _Van_ wants grace, who never wanted wit."
--POPE.]
which was too bare before:
Those writers well and wisely use their pens,
Who turn our wantons into Magdalens;
And howsoever wicked wits revile 'em,
We hope to find in you their stage asylum.
* * * * *
ACT I.
SCENE I.--_The Hall of an Inn_.
_Enter TOM FASHION and LORY, POSTILION following with a
portmanteau_.
_Fash_. Lory, pay the postboy, and take the portmanteau.
_Lory. [Aside to TOM FASHION_.] Faith, sir, we had better
let the postboy take the portmanteau and pay himself.
_Fash. [Aside to LORY_.] Why, sure, there's something left
in it!
_Lory_. Not a rag, upon my honour, sir! We eat the last of
your wardrobe at New Malton--and, if we had had twenty miles
further to go, our next meal must have been of the cloak-bag.
_Fash_. Why, 'sdeath, it appears full!
_Lory_. Yes, sir--I made bold to stuff it with hay, to save
appearances, and look like baggage.
_Fash. [Aside_.] What the devil shall I do?--[_Aloud_.]
Hark'ee, boy, what's the chaise?
_Post_. Thirteen shillings, please your honour.
_Fash_. Can you give me change for a guinea?
_Post_. Oh, yes, sir.
_Lory. [Aside_.] So, what will he do now?--[_Aloud_.]
Lord, sir, you had better let the boy be paid below.
_Fash_. Why, as you say, Lory, I believe it will be as well.
_Lory_. Yes, yes, I'll tell them to discharge you below,
honest friend.
_Post_. Please your honour, there are the turnpikes too.
_Fash_. Ay, ay, the turnpikes by all means.
_Post_. And I hope your honour will order me something for
myself.
_Fash_. To be sure; bid them give you a crown.
_Lory_. Yes, yes--my master doesn't care what you charge
them--so get along, you--
_Post_. And there's the ostler, your honour.
_Lory_. Psha! damn the ostler!--would you impose upon the
gentleman's generosity?--[_Pushes him out_.] A rascal, to be
so cursed ready with his change!
_Fash_. Why, faith, Lory, he had nearly posed me.
_Lory_. Well, sir, we are arrived at Scarborough, not worth
a guinea! I hope you'll own yourself a happy man--you have
outlived all your cares.
_Fash_. How so, sir?
_Lory_. Why, you have nothing left to take care of.
_Fash_. Yes, sirrah, I have myself and you to take care of
still.
_Lory_. Sir, if you could prevail with somebody else to do
that for you, I fancy we might both fare the better for it. But
now, sir, for my Lord Foppington, your elder brother.
_Fash_. Damn my eldest brother.
_Lory_. With all my heart; but get him to redeem your
annuity, however. Look you, sir; you must wheedle him, or you
must starve.
_Fash_. Look you, sir; I would neither wheedle him, nor
starve.
_Lory_. Why, what will you do, then?
_Fash_. Cut his throat, or get someone to do it for me.
_Lory_. Gad so, sir, I'm glad to find I was not so well
acquainted with the strength of your conscience as with the
weakness of your purse.
_Fash_. Why, art thou so impenetrable a blockhead as to
believe he'll help me with a farthing?
_Lory_. Not if you treat him _de haut en bas_, as you
used to do.
_Fash_. Why, how wouldst have me treat him?
_Lory_. Like a trout--tickle him.
_Fash_. I can't flatter.
_Lory_. Can you starve?
_Fash_. Yes.
_Lory_. I can't. Good by t'ye, sir.
_Fash_. Stay--thou'lt distract me. But who comes here? My
old friend, Colonel Townly.
_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
My dear Colonel, I am rejoiced to meet you here.
_Col. Town_. Dear Tom, this is an unexpected pleasure! What,
are you come to Scarborough to be present at your brother's
wedding?
_Lory_. Ah, sir, if it had been his funeral, we should have
come with pleasure.
_Col. Town_. What, honest Lory, are you with your master
still?
_Lory_. Yes, sir; I have been starving with him ever since I
saw your honour last.
_Fash_. Why, Lory is an attached rogue; there's no getting
rid of him.
_Lory_. True, sir, as my master says, there's no seducing me
from his service.--[_Aside_.] Till he's able to pay me my
wages.
_Fash_. Go, go, sir, and take care of the baggage.
_Lory_. Yes, sir, the baggage!--O Lord! [_Takes up the
portmanteau_.] I suppose, sir, I must charge the landlord to
be very particular where he stows this?
_Fash_. Get along, you rascal.--[_Exit_ LORY _with
the portmanteau_.] But, Colonel, are you acquainted with my
proposed sister-in-law?
_Col. Town_. Only by character. Her father, Sir Tunbelly
Clumsy, lives within a quarter of a mile of this place, 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 upon the dulcimer, the clerk to sing, her nurse to dress,
and her father to dance;--in short, nobody has free admission
there but our old acquaintance, Mother Coupler, who has procured
your brother this match, and is, I believe, a distant relation of
Sir Tunbelly's.
_Fash_. But is her fortune so considerable?
_Col. Town_. Three thousand a year, and a good sum of money,
independent of her father, beside.
_Fash_. 'Sdeath! that my old acquaintance, Dame Coupler,
could not have thought of me, as well as my brother, for such a
prize.
_Col. Town_. Egad, I wouldn't swear that you are too late--
his lordship, I know, hasn't yet seen the lady--and, I believe,
has quarrelled with his patroness.
_Fash_. My dear Colonel, what an idea have you started!
_Col. Town_. Pursue it, if you can, and I promise you shall
have my assistance; for, besides my natural contempt for his
lordship, I have at present the enmity of a rival towards him.
_Fash_. What, has he been addressing your old flame, the
widow Berinthia?
_Col. Town_. Faith, Tom, I am at present most whimsically
circumstanced. I came here a month ago to meet the lady you
mention; but she failing in her promise, I, partly from pique and
partly from idleness, have been diverting my chagrin by offering
up incense to the beauties of Amanda, our friend Loveless's wife.
_Fash_. I never have seen her, but have heard her spoken of
as a youthful wonder of beauty and prudence.
_Col. Town_. She is so indeed; and, Loveless being too
careless and insensible of the treasure he possesses, my lodging
in the same house has given me a thousand opportunities of making
my assiduities acceptable; so that, in less than a fortnight, I
began to bear my disappointment from the widow with the most
Christian resignation.
_Fash_. And Berinthia has never appeared?
_Col. Town_. Oh, there's the perplexity! for, just as I
began not to care whether I ever saw her again or not, last night
she arrived.
_Fash_. And instantly resumed her empire.
_Col. Town_. No, faith--we met--but, the lady not
condescending to give me any serious reasons for having fooled me
for a month, I left her in a huff.
_Fash_. Well, well, I'll answer for it she'll soon resume
her power, especially as friendship will prevent your pursuing
the other too far.--But my coxcomb of a brother is an admirer of
Amanda's too, is he?
_Col. Town_. Yes, and I believe is most heartily despised by
her. But come with me, and you shall see her and your old friend
Loveless.
Fash. I must pay my respects to his lordship--perhaps you can
direct me to his lodgings.
_Col. Town._ Come with me; I shall pass by it.
_Fash._ I wish you could pay this visit for me, or could
tell me what I should say to him.
_Col. Town._ Say nothing to him--apply yourself to his bag,
his sword, his feather, his snuff-box; and when you are well with
them, desire him to lend you a thousand pounds, and I'll engage
you prosper.
_Fash._ 'Sdeath and furies! why was that coxcomb thrust into
the world before me? O Fortune, Fortune, thou art a jilt, by Gad!
[_Exeunt._
SCENE II.--LORD FOPPINGTON'S _Dressing-room._
_Enter_ LORD FOPPINGTON _in his dressing-gown, and_ LA
VAROLE.
_Lord Fop._ [_Aside._] Well,'tis an unspeakable
pleasure to be a man of quality--strike me dumb! Even the boors
of this northern spa have learned the respect due to a title.--
[_Aloud._] La Varole!
_La Var._ Milor--
_Lord Fop._ You ha'n't yet been at Muddymoat Hall, to
announce my arrival, have you?
_La Var._ Not yet, milor.
_Lord Fop._ Then you need not go till Saturday-[_Exit_
LA VAROLE] as I am in no particular haste to view my intended
sposa. I shall sacrifice a day or two more to the pursuit of my
friend Loveless's wife. Amanda is a charming creature--strike me
ugly! and, if I have any discernment in the world, she thinks no
less of my Lord Foppington.
_Re-enter_ LA VAROLE.
_La Var._ Milor, de shoemaker, de tailor, de hosier, de
sempstress, de peru, be all ready, if your lordship please to
dress.
_Lord Fop._ 'Tis well, admit them.
_La Var._ Hey, messieurs, entrez!
_Enter_ TAILOR, SHOEMAKER, SEMPSTRESS, JEWELLER, _and_
MENDLEGS.
_Lord Fop._ So, gentlemen, I hope you have all taken pains
to show yourselves masters in your professions?
_Tai_. I think I may presume, sir--
_La Var_. Milor, you clown, you!
_Tai_. My lord--I ask your lordship's--pardon, my lord. I
hope, my lord, your lordship will be pleased to own I have
brought your lordship as accomplished a suit of clothes as ever
peer of England wore, my lord--will your lordship please to view
'em 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 round. [_Puts on his clothes_.]
_Enter_ TOM FASHION _and_ LORY. _They remain behind,
conversing apart_.
_Fash_. Heyday! what the devil have we here? Sure my
gentleman's grown a favourite at court, he has got so many people
at his levee.
_Lory_. Sir, these people come in order to make him a
favourite at court--they are to establish him with the ladies.
_Fash_. Good Heaven! to what an ebb of taste are women
fallen, that it should be in the power of a laced coat to
recommend a gallant to them?
_Lory_. Sir, tailors and hair-dressers debauch all the
women.
_Fash_. Thou sayest true. But now for my reception.
_Lord Fop_. [_To_ TAILOR.] Death and eternal tortures!
Sir--I say the coat is too wide here by a foot.
_Tai_. My lord, if it had been tighter, 'twould neither have
hooked nor buttoned.
_Lord Fop_. Rat the hooks and buttons, sir! Can any thing be
worse than this? As Gad shall jedge me, it hangs on my shoulders
like a chairman's surtout.
_Tai_. 'Tis not for me to dispute your lordship's fancy.
_Lory_. There, sir, observe what respect does.
_Fash_. Respect! damn him for a coxcomb!--But let's accost
him.--[_Coming forward_.] Brother, I'm your humble servant.
_Lord Fop_. O Lard, Tam! I did not expect you in England.
--Brother, I'm glad to see you.--But what has brought you to
Scarborough, Tam!--[_To the_ TAILOR.] Look you, sir, I
shall never be reconciled to this nauseous wrapping-gown,
therefore pray get me another suit with all possible expedition;
for this is my eternal aversion.--[_Exit_ TAILOR.] Well
but, Tam, you don't tell me what has driven you to Scarborough.--
Mrs. Calico, are not you of my mind?
_Semp_. Directly, my lord.--I hope your lordship is pleased
with your ruffles?
_Lord Fop_. In love with them, stap my vitals!--Bring my
bill, you shall be paid to-morrow.
_Semp_. I humbly thank your worship. [Exit.]
_Lord Fop_. Hark thee, shoemaker, these shoes aren't ugly,
but they don't fit me.
_Shoe_. My lord, I think they fit you very well.
_Lord Fop_. They hurt me just below the instep.
_Shoe_. [_Feels his foot_.] No, my lord, they don't
hurt you there.
_Lord Fop_. I tell thee they pinch me execrably.
_Shoe_. Why then, my lord, if those shoes pinch you, I'll be
damned.
_Lord Fop_. Why, will thou undertake to persuade me I cannot
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.
_Lord Fop_. Now, by all that's good and powerful, thou art
an incomprehensive coxcomb!--but thou makest good shoes, and so
I'll bear with thee.
_Shoe_. My lord, I have worked for half the people of
quality in this town these twenty years, and 'tis very hard I
shouldn't know when a shoe hurts, and when it don't.
_Lord Fop_. Well, pr'ythee be gone about thy business.--
[_Exit_ SHOEMAKER.] Mr. Mendlegs, a word with you.--The
calves of these stockings are thickened a little too much; they
make my legs look like a porter's.
_Mend_. My lord, methinks they look mighty well.
_Lord Fop_. Ay, but you are not so good a judge of those
things as I am--I have studied them all my life--therefore pray
let the next be the thickness of a crown-piece less.
_Mend_. Indeed, my lord, they are the same kind I had the
honour to furnish your lordship with in town.
_Lord Fop_. Very possibly, Mr. Mendlegs; but that was in the
beginning of the winter, and you should always remember, Mr.
Hosier, that if you make a nobleman's spring legs as robust as
his autumnal calves, you commit a monstrous impropriety, and make
no allowance Tor the fatigues of the winter. [_Exit--_
MENDLEGS.]
_Jewel_. I hope, my lord, these buckles have had the
unspeakable satisfaction of being honoured with your lordship's
approbation?
_Lord Fop_. Why, they are of a pretty fancy; but don't you
think them rather of the smallest?
_Jewel_. My lord, they could not well be larger, to keep on
your lordship's shoe.
_Lord Fop_. My good sir, you forget that these matters are
not as they used to be; formerly, indeed, the buckle was a sort
of machine, intended to keep on the shoe; but the case is now
quite reversed, and the shoe is of no earthly use, but to keep on
the buckle.--Now give me my watches [SERVANT _fetches the
watches_,] my chapeau, [SERVANT _brings a dress hat_,] my
handkerchief, [SERVANT _pours some scented liquor on a
handkerchief and brings it_,] my snuff-box [SERVANT _brings
snuff-box_.] There, now the business of the morning is pretty
well over. [_Exit_ JEWELLER.]
_Fash_. [_Aside to_ LORY.] Well, Lory, what dost think
on't?--a very friendly reception from a brother, after three
years' absence!
_Lory_. [_Aside to_ TOM FASHION.] Why, sir, 'tis your
own fault--here you have stood ever since you came in, and have
not commended any one thing that belongs to him. [SERVANTS _all
go off._]
_Fash_. [_Aside to_ LORY.] Nor ever shall, while they
belong to a coxcomb.--[_To_ LORD FOPPINGTON.] Now your
people of business are gone, brother, I hope I may obtain a
quarter of an hour's audience of you?
_Lord Fop_. Faith, Tam, I must beg you'll excuse me at this
time, for I have an engagement which I would not break for the
salvation of mankind.--Hey!--there!--is my carriage at the door?
--You'll excuse me, brother. [_Going_.]
_Fash_. Shall you be back to dinner?
_Lord Fop_. As Gad shall jedge me, I can't tell; for it is
passible I may dine with some friends at Donner's.
_Fash_. Shall I meet you there? For I must needs talk with
you.
_Lord Fop_. That I'm afraid mayn't be quite so praper; for
those I commonly eat with are people of nice conversation; and
you know, Tam, your education has been a little at large.--But
there are other ordinaries in town--very good beef ordinaries--I
suppose, Tam, you can eat beef?--However, dear Tam, I'm glad to
see thee in England, stap my vitals!
[_Exit_, LA VAROLE _following_.]
_Fash_. Hell and furies! is this to be borne?
_Lory_. Faith, sir, I could almost have given him a knock o'
the pate myself.
_Fash_. 'Tis enough; I will now show you the excess of my
passion, by being very calm.--Come, Lory, lay your loggerhead to
mine, and, in cold blood, let us contrive his destruction.
_Lory_. Here comes a head, sir, would contrive it better
than both our loggerheads, if she would but join in the
confederacy.
_Fash_. By this light, Madam Coupler! she seems dissatisfied
at something: let us observe her.
_Enter_ MRS. COUPLER.
_Mrs. Coup_. So! I am likely to be well rewarded for my
services, truly; my suspicions, I find, were but too just.--
What! refuse to advance me a petty sum, when I am upon the point
of making him master of a galleon! but let him look to the
consequences; an ungrateful, narrow-minded coxcomb.
_Fash_. So he is, upon my soul, old lady; it must be my
brother you speak of.
_Mrs. Coup_. Ha! stripling, how came you here? What, hast
spent all, eh? And art thou come to dun his lordship for
assistance?
_Fash_. No, I want somebody's assistance to cut his
lordship's throat, without the risk of being hanged for him.
_Mrs. Coup_. Egad, sirrah, I could help thee to do him
almost as good a turn, without the danger of being burned in the
hand for't.
_Fash_. How--how, old Mischief?
_Mrs. Coup_. Why, you must know I have done you the kindness
to make up a match for your brother.
_Fash_. I am very much beholden to you, truly!
_Mrs. Coup_. You may be before the wedding-day, yet: the
lady is a great heiress, the match is concluded, the writings are
drawn, and his lordship is come hither to put the finishing hand
to the business.
_Fash_. I understand as much.
_Mrs. Coup_. Now, you must know, stripling, your brother's a
knave.
_Fash_. Good.
_Mrs. Coup_. He has given me a bond of a thousand pounds for
helping him to this fortune, and has promised me as much more, in
ready money, upon the day of the marriage; which, I understand by
a friend, he never designs to pay me; and his just now refusing
to pay me a part is a proof of it. If, therefore, you will be a
generous young rogue, and secure me five thousand pounds, I'll
help you to the lady.
_Fash_. And how the devil wilt thou do that?
_Mrs. 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 managed by me, and all his letters go through my hands.
Sir Tunbelly Clumsy, my relation--for that's the old gentleman's
name--is apprised of his lordship's being down here, and expects
him to-morrow to receive his daughter's hand; but the peer, I
find, means to bait here a few days longer, to recover the
fatigue of his journey, I suppose. Now you shall go to Muddymoat
Hall in his place.--I'll give you a letter of introduction: and
if you don't marry the girl before sunset, you deserve to be
hanged before morning.
_Fash_. Agreed! agreed! and for thy reward--
_Mrs. Coup_. Well, well;--though I warrant thou hast not a
farthing of money in thy pocket now--no--one may see it in thy
face.
_Fash_. Not a sous, by Jupiter!
_Mrs. Coup_. Must I advance, then? Well, be at my lodgings,
next door, this evening, and I'll see what may be done--we'll
sign and seal, and when I have given thee some further
instructions, thou shalt hoist sail and be one.
[_Exit_.]
_Fash_. So, Lory, Fortune, thou seest, at last takes care of
merit! we are in a fair way to be great people.
_Lory_. Ay, sir, if the devil don't step between the cup and
the lip, as he used to do.
_Fash_. Why, faith, he has played me many a damned trick to
spoil my fortune; and, egad, I am almost afraid he's at work
about it again now; but if I should tell thee how, thou'dst
wonder at me.
_Lory_. Indeed, sir, I should not.
_Fash_. How dost know?
_Lory_. Because, sir, I have wondered at you so often, I can
wonder at you no more.
_Fash_. No! what wouldst thou say, if a qualm of conscience
should spoil my design?
_Lory_. I would eat my words, and wonder more than ever.
_Fash_. Why faith, Lory, though I have played 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.
_Lory_. They are strong symptoms of death. If you find they
increase, sir, pray make your will.
_Fash_. No, my conscience shan't starve me neither: but thus
far I'll listen to it. Before I execute this project, I'll try my
brother to the bottom. If he has yet so much humanity about him
as to assist me--though with a moderate aid--I'll drop my project
at his feet, and show him how I can do for him much more than
what I'd ask he'd do for me. This one conclusive trial of him I
resolve to make.
Succeed or fail, still victory is my lot;
If I subdue his heart,'tis well--if not,
I will subdue my conscience to my plot.
[_Exeunt_.]
ACT II.
SCENE I.--LOVELESS'S _Lodgings_.
_Enter_ LOVELESS _and_ AMANDA.
_Love_. How do you like these lodgings, my dear? For my
part, I am so pleased with them, I shall hardly remove whilst we
stay here, if you are satisfied.
_Aman_. I am satisfied with everything that pleases you,
else I had not come to Scarborough at all.
_Love_. Oh, a little of the noise and folly of this place
will sweeten the pleasures of our retreat; we shall find the
charms of our retirement doubled when we return to it.
_Aman_. That pleasing prospect will be my chiefest
entertainment, whilst, much against my will, I engage in those
empty pleasures which 'tis so much the fashion to be fond of.
_Love_. I own most of them are, indeed, but empty; yet 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: good music is one; and truly (with some small
allowance) the plays, I think, may be esteemed another.
_Aman_. Plays, I must confess, have some small charms. What
do you think of that you saw last night?
_Love_. To say truth, I did not mind it much--my attention
was for some time taken off to admire the workmanship of Nature
in the face of a young lady who sat at some distance from me, she
was so exquisitely handsome.
_Aman_. So exquisitely handsome!
_Love_. Why do you repeat my words, my dear?
_Aman_. Because you seemed to speak them with such pleasure,
I thought I might oblige you with their echo.
_Love_. Then you are alarmed, Amanda?
_Aman_. It is my duty to be so when you are in danger.
_Love_. You are too quick in apprehending for me. I viewed
her with a world of admiration, but not one glance of love.
_Aman_. Take heed of trusting to such nice distinctions. But
were your eyes the only things that were inquisitive? Had I been
in your place, my tongue, I fancy, had been curious too. I should
have asked her where she lived--yet still without design--who was
she, pray?
_Love_. Indeed I cannot tell.
_Aman_. You will not tell.
_Love_. Upon my honour, then, I did not ask.
_Aman_. Nor do you know what company was with her?
_Love_. I do not. But why are you so earnest?
_Aman_. I thought I had cause.
_Love_. But you thought wrong, Amanda; for turn the case,
and let it be your story: should you come home and tell me you
had seen a handsome man, should I grow jealous because you had
eyes?
_Aman_. But should I tell you he was exquisitely so, and
that I had gazed on him with admiration, should you not think
'twere possible I might go one step further, and inquire his
name?
_Love_. [_Aside_.] She has reason on her side; I have
talked too much; but I must turn off another way.--
[_Aloud_.] 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.
_Enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser_. Madam, there is a lady at the door in a chair desires
to know whether your ladyship sees company; her name is
Berinthia.
_Aman_. Oh dear! 'tis a relation I have not seen these five
years; pray her to walk in.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] Here's
another beauty for you; she was, when I saw her last, reckoned
extremely handsome.
_Love_. Don't be jealous now; for I shall gaze upon her too.
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
Ha! by heavens, the very woman! [_Aside_.]
_Ber_. [_Salutes_ AMANDA.] Dear Amanda, I did not
expect to meet you in Scarborough.
_Aman_. Sweet cousin, I'm overjoyed to see you.--Mr.
Loveless, here's a relation and a friend of mine, I desire you'll
be better acquainted with.
_Love_. [_Salutes_ BERINTHIA.] If my wife never desires
a harder thing, madam, her request will be easily granted.
_Re-enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser_. Sir, my Lord Foppington presents his humble service
to you, and desires to know how you do. He's at the next door;
and, if it be not inconvenient to you, he'll come and wait upon
you.
_Love_. Give my compliments to his lordship, and I shall be
glad to see him.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] If you are not
acquainted with his lordship, madam, you will be entertained with
his character.
_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.
_Love_. No, there you are wrong, Amanda; you should never
bestow your pity upon those who take pains for your contempt:
pity those whom nature abuses, never those who abuse nature.
_Enter_ LORD FOPPINGTON.
_Lord Fop_. Dear Loveless, I am your most humble servant.
_Love_. My lord, I'm yours.
_Lord Fop_. Madam, your ladyship's very obedient slave.
_Love_. My lord, this lady is a relation of my wife's.
_Lord Fop_. [_Salutes_ BERINTHIA.] The beautifullest
race of people upon earth, rat me! Dear Loveless, I am overjoyed
that you think of continuing here: I am, stap my vitals!--
[_To_ AMANDA.] For Gad's sake, madam, how has your ladyship
been able to subsist thus long, under the fatigue of a country
life?
_Aman_. My life has been very far from that, my lord; it has
been a very quiet one.
_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.
_Aman_. Does not your lordship love reading, then?
_Lord Fop_. Oh, passionately, madam; but I never think of
what I read. For example, madam, my life is a perpetual stream of
pleasure, that glides through with such a variety of
entertainments, I believe the wisest of our ancestors never had
the least conception of any of 'em. I rise, madam, when in town,
about twelve o'clock. I don't rise sooner, because it is the
worst thing in the world for the complexion: not that I pretend
to be a beau; but a man must endeavour to look decent, lest he
makes so odious a figure in the side-bax, the ladies should be
compelled to turn their eyes upon the play. So at twelve o'clock,
I say, I rise. Naw, if I find it is a good day, I resalve to take
the exercise of riding; so drink my chocolate, and draw on my
boots by two. On my return, I dress; and, after dinner, lounge
perhaps to the opera.
_Ber_. Your lordship, I suppose, is fond of music?
_Lord Fop_. Oh, passionately, on Tuesdays and Saturdays; for
then there is always the best company, and one is not expected to
undergo the fatigue of listening.
_Aman_. Does your lordship think that the case at the opera?
_Lord Fop_. Most certainly, madam. There is my Lady Tattle,
my Lady Prate, my Lady Titter, my Lady Sneer, my Lady Giggle, and
my Lady Grin--these have boxes in the front, and while any
favourite air is singing, are the prettiest company in the
waurld, stap my vitals!--Mayn't we hope for the honour to see you
added to our society, madam?
_Aman_. Alas! my lord, I am the worst company in the world
at a concert, I'm so apt to attend to the music.
_Lord Fop_. Why, madam, that is very pardonable in the
country or at church, but a monstrous inattention in a polite
assembly. But I am afraid I tire the company?
_Love_. Not at all. Pray go on.
_Lord Fop_. Why then, ladies, there only remains to add,
that I generally conclude the evening at one or other of the
clubs; nat that I ever play deep; indeed I have been for some
time tied up from losing above five thousand paunds at a sitting.
_Love_. But isn't your lordship sometimes obliged to attend
the weighty affairs 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.
_Ber._ Nay, my lord, but you are a pillar of the state.
_Lord Fop_. An ornamental pillar, madam; for sooner than
undergo any part of the fatigue, rat me, but the whole building
should fall plump to the ground!
_Aman_. But, my lord, a fine gentleman spends a great deal
of his time in his intrigues; you have given us no account of
them yet.
_Lord Fop._ [_Aside_.] So! she would inquire into my
amours--that's jealousy, poor soul!--I see she's in love with
me.--[_Aloud_.] O Lord, madam, I had like to have forgot a
secret I must need tell your ladyship.--Ned, you must not be so
jealous now as to listen.
_Love._ [_Leading_ BERINTHIA _up the stage_.] Not
I, my lord; I am too fashionable a husband to pry into the
secrets of my wife.
_Lord Fop._ [_Aside to_ AMANDA _squeezing her
hand_.] I am in love with you to desperation, strike me
speechless!
_Aman._ [_Strikes him on the ear_.] Then thus I return
your passion.--An impudent fool!
_Lord Fop_. God's curse, madam, I am a peer of the realm!
_Love_. [_Hastily returning_.] Hey! what the devil, do
you affront my wife, sir? Nay, then--
[_Draws. They fight._]
_Aman_. What has my folly done?--Help! murder! help! Part
them for Heaven's sake.
_Lord Fop_. [_Falls back and leans on his sword._] Ah!
quite through the body, stap my vitals!
_Enter_ SERVANTS.
_Love_. [_Runs to_ LORD FOPPINGTON.] I hope I ha'nt
killed the fool, however. Bear him up.--Call a surgeon there.
_Lord Fop_. Ay, pray make haste. [_Exit_ SERVANT.
_Love_. This mischief you may thank yourself for.
_Lord Fop_. I may say so; love's the devil indeed, Ned.
_Re-enter_ SERVANT, _with_ PROBE.
_Ser_. Here's Mr. Probe, sir, was just going by the door.
_Lord Fop_. He's the welcomest man alive.
_Probe_. Stand by, stand by, stand by; pray, gentlemen,
stand by. Lord have mercy upon us, did you never see a man run
through the body before?--Pray stand by.
_Lord Fop_. Ah, Mr. Probe, I'm a dead man.
_Probe_. A dead man, and I by! I should laugh to see that,
egad.
_Love_. Pr'ythee don't stand prating, but look upon his
wound.
_Probe_. Why, what if I don't look upon his wound this hour,
sir?
_Love_. Why, then he'll bleed to death, sir.
_Probe_. Why, then I'll fetch him to life again, sir.
_Love_. 'Slife! he's run through the body, I tell thee.
_Probe_. I wish he was run through the heart, and I should
get the more credit by his cure. Now I hope you are satisfied?
Come, now let me come at him--now let me come at him.--
[_Viewing his wound._] Oops I what a gash is here! why, sir,
a man may drive a coach and six horses into your body.
_Lord Fop_. Oh!
_Probe_. Why, what the devil have you run the gentleman
through with--a scythe?--[_Aside_.] A little scratch between
the skin and the ribs, that's all.
_Love_. Let me see his wound.
_Probe_. Then you shall dress it, sir; for if anybody looks
upon it I won't.
_Love_. Why, thou art the veriest coxcomb I ever saw!
_Probe_. Sir, I am not master of my trade for nothing.
_Lord Fop_. Surgeon!
_Probe_. Sir.
_Lord Fop_. Are there any hopes?
_Probe_. Hopes! I can't tell. What are you willing to give
for a cure? _Lord Fop_. Five hundred paunds with pleasure.
_Probe_. 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.--[_Aloud_.]
Come, a chair--a chair quickly--there, in with him. [SERVANTS
_put_ LORD FOPPINGTON _into 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 sorry you
and I should quarrel, but I hope here's an end on't; for if you
are satisfied, I am.
_Love_. I shall hardly think it worth my prosecuting any
further, so you may be at rest, sir.
_Lord Fop_. Thou art a generous fellow, strike me dumb!
--[_Aside_.] But thou hast an impertinent wife, stap my
vitals!
_Probe_. So--carry him off!--carry him off!--We shall have
him into a fever by-and-by.--Carry him off! [_Exit with_
LORD FOPPINGTON.]
Enter COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Col. Town_. So, so, I am glad to find you all alive.--I met
a wounded peer carrying off. For heaven's sake what was the
matter?
_Love_. Oh, a trifle! he would have made love to my wife
before my face, so she obliged him with a box o' the ear, and I
ran him through the body, that was all.
_Col. Town_. Bagatelle on all sides. But pray, madam, how
long has this noble lord been an humble servant of yours?
_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 authentic passport to every
woman's heart below the degree of a peeress.
_Col. Town_. He's coxcomb enough to think anything: but I
would not have you brought into trouble for him. I hope there's
no danger of his life?
_Love_. 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 ball
to-night if he pleases.
_Col. Town_. I am glad you have corrected him without
further mischief, or you might have deprived me of the pleasure
of executing a plot against his lordship, which I have been
contriving with an old acquaintance of yours.
_Love_. Explain.
_Col. Town_. His brother, Tom Fashion, is come down here,
and we have it in contemplation to save him the trouble of his
intended wedding: but we want your assistance. Tom would have
called but he is preparing for his enterprise, so I promised to
bring you to him--so, sir, if these ladies can spare you--
_Love_. I'll go with you with all my heart.--[_Aside_.]
Though I could wish, methinks, to stay and gaze a little longer
on that creature. Good gods! how engaging she is!--but what have
I to do with beauty? I have already had my portion, and must not
covet more.
_Aman_. Mr. Loveless, pray one word with you before you go.
[_Exit_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Love_. What would my dear?
_Aman_. Only a woman's foolish question: how do you like my
cousin here?
_Love_. Jealous already, Amanda?
_Aman_. Not at all: I ask you for another reason.
_Love_. [_Aside_.] Whate'er her reason be, I must not
tell her true.--[_Aloud_.] 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
that would triumph in my heart.
_Aman_. I'm satisfied.
_Love_. Now tell me why you asked?
_Aman_. At night I will--adieu!
_Love_. I'm yours. [_Kisses her and exit_.]
_Aman_. 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.
[_Aside_.]
_Ber_. So! I find my colonel continues in his airs; there
must be something more at the bottom of this than the provocation
he pretends from me. [_Aside_.]
_Aman_. For Heaven's sake, Berinthia, tell me what way I
shall take to persuade you to come and live with me.
_Ber_. Why, one way in the world there is, and but one.
_Aman_. And pray what is that?
_Ber_. It is to assure me--I shall be very welcome.
_Aman_. If that be all, you shall e'en sleep here to-night.
_Ber_. To-night.
_Aman_. Yes, to-night.
_Ber_. Why, the people where I lodge will think me mad.
_Aman_. Let 'em think what they please.
_Ber_. Say you so, Amanda? Why, then, they shall think what
they please: for I'm a young widow, and I care not what anybody
thinks.--Ah, Amanda, it's a delicious thing to be a young widow!
_Aman_. You'll hardly make me think so.
_Ber_. Poh! because you are in love with your husband.
_Aman_. Pray, 'tis with a world of innocence I would inquire
whether you think those we call women of reputation do really
escape all other men as they do those shadows of beaux.
_Ber_. Oh no, Amanda; there are a sort of men make dreadful
work amongst 'em, men that may be called the beau's antipathy,
for they agree in nothing but walking upon two legs. These have
brains, the beau has none. These are in love with their mistress,
the beau with himself. They take care of their reputation, the
beau is industrious to destroy it. They are decent, he's a fop;
in short, 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.
_Ber_. His lordship and Colonel Townly?
_Aman_. The same.
_Ber_. As for the lord, he is 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.
_Aman_. He answers the opinion I had ever of him. [_Takes
her hand_.] I must acquaint you with a secret--'tis not that
fool alone has talked to me of love; Townly has been tampering
too.
_Ber_. [_Aside_.] So, so! here the mystery comes out!--
[_Aloud_.] Colonel Townly! impossible, my dear!
_Aman_. 'Tis true indeed; though he has done it in vain; nor
do I think that all the merit of mankind combined could shake the
tender love I bear my husband; yet I will own to you, Berinthia,
I did not start at his addresses, as when they came from one whom
I contemned.
_Ber. [Aside_.] Oh, this is better and better!--
[_Aloud_.] Well said, Innocence! and you really think, my
dear, that nothing could abate your constancy and attachment to
your husband?
_Aman_. Nothing, I am convinced.
_Ber_. What, if you found he loved another woman better?
_Aman_. Well!
_Ber_. Well!--why, were I that thing they call a slighted
wife, somebody should run the risk of being that thing they call--a
husband. Don't I talk madly?
_Aman_. Madly indeed!
_Ber_. Yet I'm very innocent.
_Aman_. That I dare swear you are. I know how to make
allowances for your humour: but you resolve then never to marry
again?
_Ber_. Oh no! I resolve I will.
_Aman_. How so?
_Ber_. That I never may.
_Aman_. You banter me.
_Ber_. Indeed I don't: but I consider I'm a woman, and form
my resolutions accordingly.
_Aman_. Well, my opinion is, form what resolutions you will,
matrimony will be the end on't.
_Ber_. I doubt it--but a--Heavens! I have business at home,
and am half an hour too late.
_Aman_. As you are to return with me, I'll just give some
orders, and walk with you.
_Ber_. Well, make haste, and we'll finish this subject as we
go--[_Exit_ AMANDA.]. Ah, poor Amanda! you have led a
country life. Well, this discovery is lucky! Base Townly! at once
false to me and treacherous to his friend!--And my innocent and
demure cousin too! I have it in my power to be revenged on her,
however. Her husband, if I have any skill in countenance, would
be as happy in my smiles as Townly can hope to be in hers. I'll
make the experiment, come what will on't. The woman who can
forgive the being robbed of a favoured lover, must be either an
idiot or a wanton. [_Exit_.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.--LORD FOPPINGTON's _Lodgings.
Enter_ LORD FOPPINGTON, _and_ LA VAROLE.
_Lord Fop_. Hey, fellow, let thy vis-a-vis come to the door.
_La Var_. Will your lordship venture so soon to expose
yourself to the weather?
_Lord Fop_. Sir, I will venture as soon as I can expose
myself to the ladies.
_La Var_. I wish your lordship would please to keep house a
little longer; I'm afraid your honour does not well consider your
wound.
_Lord Fop_. My wound!--I would not be in eclipse another
day, though I had as many wounds in my body as I have had in my
heart. So mind, Varole, let these cards be left as directed; for
this evening I shall wait on my future father-in-law, Sir
Tunbelly, and I mean to commence my devoirs to the lady, by
giving an entertainment at her father's expense; and hark thee,
tell Mr. Loveless I request he and his company will honour me
with their presence, or I shall think we are not friends.
_La Var_. I will be sure, milor. [_Exit_.]
_Enter_ TOM FASHION.
_Fash_. Brother, your servant; how do you find yourself to-day?
_Lord Fop_. So well that I have ardered my coach to the
door--so there's no danger of death this baut, Tam.
_Fash_. I'm very glad of it.
_Lord Fop_. [_Aside_.] That I believe a lie.--
[_Aloud_.] Pr'ythee, Tam, tell me one thing--did not your
heart cut a caper up to your mauth, when you heard I was run
through the bady?
_Fash_. Why do you think it should?
_Lord Fop_. Because I remember mine did so when I heard my
uncle was shot through the head.
_Fash_. It, then, did very ill.
_Lord Fop_. Pr'ythee, why so?
_Fash_. Because he used you very well.
_Lord Fop_. Well!--Naw, strike me dumb! he starved me; he
has let me want a thausand women for want of a thausand paund.
_Fash_. Then he hindered you from making a great many ill
bargains; for I think no woman worth money that will take money.
_Lord Fop_. If I was a younger brother I should think so
too.
_Fash_. Then you are seldom much in love?
_Lord Fop_. Never, stap my vitals!
_Fash_. Why, then, did you make all this bustle about
Amanda?
_Lord Fop_. Because she's a woman of insolent virtue, and I
thought myself piqued in honour to debauch her.
_Fash_. Very well.--[_Aside_.] Here's a rare fellow for
you, to have the spending of ten thousand pounds a year! But now
for my business with him.--[_Aloud_.] Brother, though I know
to talk of any 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.
_Lord Fop_. The greatness of your necessities, Tam, is the
worst argument in the waurld for 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.
_Fash_. I'm sorry you think so.
_Lord Fop_. I do believe thou art: but, come, let's know the
affair quickly.
_Fash_. Why, then, my case, in a word, is this: the
necessary expenses 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 unless
you are so kind as to assist me in redeeming it, I know no remedy
but to take a purse.
_Lord Fop_. Why, faith, Tam, to give you my sense of the
thing, I do think taking a purse the best remedy in the waurld;
for if you succeed, you are relieved that way, if you are taken
[_Drawing his hand round his neck_], you are relieved
t'other.
_Fash_. I'm glad to see you are in so pleasant a humour; I
hope I shall find the effects on't.
_Lord Fop_. Why, do you then really think it a reasonable
thing, that I should give you five hundred paunds?
_Fash_. I do not ask it as a due, brother; I am willing to
receive it as a favour.
_Lord Fop_. Then thou art willing to receive it anyhow,
strike me speechless! But these are damned times to give money
in; taxes are so great, repairs so exorbitant, tenants such
rogues, and bouquets so dear, that the devil take me I'm reduced
to that extremity in my cash, I have been forced to retrench in
that one article of sweet pawder, till I have brought it down to
five guineas a maunth--now judge, Tam, whether I can spare you
five paunds.
_Fash_. If you can't I must starve, that's all.--
[_Aside_.] Damn him!
_Lord Fop_. All I can say is, you should have been a better
husband.
_Fash_. Ouns! if you can't live upon ten thousand a year,
how do you think I should do't upon two hundred?
_Lord Fop_. Don't be in a passion, Tam, for passion is the
most unbecoming thing in the waurld--to the face. Look you, I
don't love to say anything 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 me.
_Fash_. Yes--she has made you older.--[_Aside_.] Plague
take her.
_Lord Fop_. That is not all, Tam.
_Fash_. Why, what is there else?
_Lord Fop. [_Looks first on himself and then on his
brother_.] Ask the ladies.
_Fash_. Why, thou essence-bottle, thou musk-cat! dost thou
then think thou hast any advantage over me but what Fortune has
given thee?
_Lord Fop_. I do, stap my vitals!
_Fash_. Now, by all that's great and powerful, thou art the
prince of coxcombs!
_Lord Fop_. Sir, I am proud at being at the head of so
prevailing a party.
_Fash_. Will nothing provoke thee?--Draw, 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 lang time. Your poverty makes life
so burdensome to you, you would provoke me to a quarrel, in hopes
either to slip through my lungs into my estate, or to get
yourself run through 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 shall leave
the room with my sword in the scabbard. [_Exit_.]
_Fash_. So! farewell, brother; and now, conscience, I defy
thee. Lory!
_Enter_ LORY.
_Lory_. Sir!
_Fash_. Here's rare news, Lory; his lordship has given me a
pill has purged off all my scruples.
_Lory_. 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.
_Fash_. Be at peace; it will come there no more: my brother
has given it a wring by the nose, and I have kicked it
downstairs. So run away to the inn, get the chaise ready quickly,
and bring it to Dame Coupler's without a moment's delay.
_Lory_. Then, sir, you are going straight about the fortune?
_Fash_. I am.--Away--fly, Lory!
_Lory_. The happiest day I ever saw. I'm upon the wing
already. Now then I shall get my wages. [_Exeunt_.]
SCENE II.--_A Garden behind_ LOVELESS'S _Lodgings.
Enter_ LOVELESS _and_ SERVANT.
_Love_. Is my wife within?
_Ser_. No, sir, she has gone out this half-hour.
_Love_. Well, leave me.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] How
strangely does my mind run on this widow!--Never was my heart so
suddenly seized on before. That my wife should pick out her, of
all womankind, to be her playfellow! But what fate does, let fate
answer for: I sought it not. So! by Heavens! here she comes.
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber_. What makes you look so thoughtful, sir? I hope you
are not ill.
_Love_. I was debating, madam, whether I was so or not, and
that was it which made me look so thoughtful.
_Ber_. Is it then so hard a matter to decide? I thought all
people were acquainted with their own bodies, though few people
know their own minds.
_Love_. What if the distemper I suspect be in the mind?
_Ber_. Why then I'll undertake to prescribe you a cure.
_Love_. Alas! you undertake you know not what.
_Ber_. So far at least, then, you allow me to be a
physician.
_Love_. Nay, I'll allow you to be so yet further: for I have
reason to believe, should I put myself into your hands, you would
increase my distemper.
_Ber_. How?
_Love_. Oh, you might betray me to my wife.
_Ber_. And so lose all my practice.
_Love_. Will you then keep my secret?
_Ber_. I will.
_Love_. Well--but swear it.
_Ber_. I swear by woman.
_Love_. Nay, that's swearing by my deity; swear by your own,
and I shall believe you.
_Ber_. Well then, I swear by man!
_Love_. I'm satisfied. Now hear my symptoms, and give me
your advice. The first were these; when I saw you at the play, a
random glance you threw at first alarmed me. I could not turn my
eyes from whence the danger came--I gazed upon you till my heart
began to pant--nay, even now, on your approaching me, my illness
is so increased that if you do not help me I shall, whilst you
look on, consume to ashes. [_Takes her hand.]
_Ber_. O Lord, let me go! 'tis the plague, and we shall be
infected. [_Breaking from him.]
_Love_. Then we'll die together, my charming angel.
_Ber_. O Gad! the devil's in you! Lord, let me go!--here's
somebody coming.
_Re-enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser_. Sir, my lady's come home, and desires to speak with
you.
_Love_. Tell her I'm coming.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] But
before I go, one glass of nectar to drink her health. [_To_
BERINTHIA.]
_Ber_. Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!
_Love_. [_Kissing her_.] In matters of love, a woman's
oath is no more to be minded than a man's. [_Exit.]
Ber_. Um!
_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Col. Town_. [_Aside_.] So? what's here--Berinthia and
Loveless--and in such close conversation!--I cannot now wonder at
her indifference in excusing herself to me!--O rare woman!--Well
then, let Loveless look to his wife, 'twill be but the retort
courteous on both sides.--[_Aloud_.] Your servant, madam; I
need not ask you how you do, you have got so good a colour.
_Ber_. No better than I used to have, I suppose.
_Col. Town_. A little more blood in your cheeks.
_Ber_. I have been walking!
_Col. Town_. Is that all? Pray was it Mr. Loveless went from
here just now?
_Ber_. O yes--he has been walking with me.
_Col. Town_. He has!
_Ber_. Upon my word I think he is a very agreeable man; and
there is certainly something particularly insinuating in his
address.
_Col. Town_. [_Aside_.] So, so! she hasn't even the
modesty to dissemble! [_Aloud_.] Pray, madam, may I, without
impertinence, trouble you with a few serious questions?
_Ber_. As many as you please; but pray let them be as little
serious as possible.
_Col. Town_. Is it not near two years since I have presumed
to address you?
_Ber_. I don't know exactly--but it has been a tedious long
time.
_Col. Town._ Have I not, during that period, had every
reason to believe that my assiduities were far from being
unacceptable?
_Ber._ Why, to do you justice, you have been extremely
troublesome--and I confess I have been more civil to you than you
deserved.
_Col. Town._ Did I not come to this place at your express
desire, and for no purpose but the honour of meeting you?--and
after waiting a month in disappointment, have you condescended to
explain, or in the slightest way apologise for, your conduct?
_Ber._ O heavens! apologise for my conduct!--apologise to
you! O you barbarian! But pray now, my good serious colonel, have
you anything more to add?
_Col. Town._ Nothing, madam, but that after such behaviour I
am less surprised at what I saw just now; it is not very
wonderful that the woman who can trifle with the delicate
addresses of an honourable lover should be found coquetting with
the husband of her friend.
_Ber._ Very true: no more wonderful than it was for this
honourable lover to divert himself in the absence of this
coquette, with endeavouring to seduce his friend's wife! O
colonel, colonel, don't talk of honour or your friend, for
Heaven's sake!
_Col. Town_. [_Aside.]_ 'Sdeath! how came she to
suspect this!--[_Aloud._] Really, madam, I don't understand
you.
_Ber._ Nay, nay, you saw I did not pretend to misunderstand
you.--But here comes the lady; perhaps you would be glad to be
left with her for an explanation.
_Col. Town._ O madam, this recrimination is a poor resource;
and to convince you how much you are mistaken, I beg leave to
decline the happiness you propose me.--Madam, your servant.
_Enter_ AMANDA. COLONEL TOWNLY _whispers_ AMANDA,
_and exit_.
_Ber. [Aside._] He carries it off well, however; upon my
word, very well! How tenderly they part!--[_Aloud_] So,
cousin; I hope you have not been chiding your admirer for being
with me? I assure you we have been talking of you.
_Aman_. Fy, Berinthia!--my admirer! will you never learn to
talk in earnest of anything?
_Ber_. Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my
part, I only tell you matter of fact.
_Aman_. I'm sure there's so much jest and earnest in what
you say to me on this subject, I scarce know how to take it. I
have just parted with Mr. Loveless; perhaps it is fancy, but I
think there is an alteration in his manner which alarms me.
_Ber_. And so you are jealous; is that all?
_Aman_. That all! is jealousy, then, nothing?
_Ber_. It should be nothing, if I were in your case.
_Aman_. Why, what would you do?
_Ber_. I'd cure myself.
_Aman_. How?
_Ber_. Care as little for my husband as he did for me. 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 ever
was, or ever will be so.
_Aman_. Do you then really think he's false to me? for I did
not suspect him.
_Ber_. Think so? I am sure of it.
_Aman_. You are sure on't?
_Ber_. Positively--he fell in love at the play.
_Aman_. Right--the very same. But who could have told you
this?
_Ber_. Um!--Oh, Townly! I suppose your husband has made him
his confidant.
_Aman_. O base Loveless! And what did Townly say on't?
_Ber. [Aside_.] So, so! why should she ask that?--
[_Aloud_.] Say! why he abused Loveless extremely, and said
all the tender things of you in the world.
_Aman_. Did he?--Oh! my heart!--I'm very ill--dear
Berinthia, don't leave me a moment. [_Exeunt_.]
SCENE III.--_Outside of_ SIR TUNRELLY CLUMSY'S _House_.
_Enter_ TOM FASHION _and_ LORY.
_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 designed for the fowls
of the air, and the beasts of the field.
_Lory._ Pray, sir, don't let your head run upon the orders
of building here: get but the heiress, let the devil take the
house.
_Fash._ Get but the house, let the devil take the heiress! I
say.--But come, we have no time to squander; knock at the door.--
[LORY _knocks two or three times at the gate._] What the
devil! have they got no ears in this house?--Knock harder.
_Lory._ Egad, sir, this will prove some enchanted castle; we
shall have the giant come out by-and-by, with his club, and beat
our brains out. [_Knocks again._]
_Fash._ Hush, they come.
_Ser. [Within.]_ Who is there?
_Lory._ Open the door and see: is that your country
breeding?
_Ser._ Ay, but two words to that bargain.--Tummus, is the
blunderbuss primed?
_Fash._ Ouns! give 'em good words, Lory,--or we shall be
shot here a fortune catching.
_Lory._ Egad, sir, I think you're in the right on't.--Ho!
Mr. What-d'ye-call-'um, will you please to let us in? or are we
to be left to grow like willows by your moat side?
SERVANT _appears at the window with a blunderbuss._
_Ser._ Well naw, what's ya're business?
_Fash._ Nothing, sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with
your leave.
_Ser._ To weat upon Sir Tunbelly! why, you'll find that's
just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.
_Fash._ But will you do me the favour, sir, to know whether
Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?
_Ser._ Why, look you, d'ye see, with good words much may be
done. Ralph, go thy ways, and ask Sir Tunbelly if he pleases to
be waited upon--and dost hear, call to nurse, that she may lock
up Miss Hoyden before the gates open.
_Fash._ D'ye hear, that, Lory?
_Enter SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY, with SERVANTS, armed with guns,
clubs, pitchforks, &c_.
_Lory_. Oh! [_Runs behind his master_.] O Lord! O Lord!
Lord! we are both dead men!
_Fash_. Fool! thy fear will, ruin us. [_Aside to
LORY_.]
_Lory_. My fear, sir? 'sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing.--
[_Aside_.] Would I were well up to the chin in a horse-pond!
_Sir Tun_. Who is it here hath any business with me?
_Fash_. Sir, 'tis I, if your name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.
_Sir Tun_. Sir, my name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsy, whether you
have any business with me or not.--So you see I am not ashamed of
my name, nor my face either.
_Fash_. Sir, you have no cause that I know of.
_Sir Tun_. Sir, if you have no cause either, I desire to
know who you are; for, till I know your name, I shan't ask you to
come into my house: and when I do know your name,'tis six to four
I don't ask you then.
_Fash_. Sir, I hope you'll find this letter an authentic
passport. [_Gives him a letter_.]
_Sir Tun_. Cod's my life, from Mrs. Coupler!--I ask your
lordship's pardon ten thousand times.--[_To a SERVANT_.]
Here, run in a-doors quickly; get a Scotch coal fire in the
parlour, set all the Turkey work chairs in their places, get the
brass candlesticks out, and be sure stick the socket full of
laurel--run!--[_Turns to TOM FASHION_.]--My lord, I ask your
lordship's pardon.--[_To SERVANT_.] And, do you hear, run
away to nurse; bid her let Miss Hoyden loose again.--[_Exit
SERVANT_.] I hope your honour will excuse the disorder of my
family. We are not used to receive men of your lordship's great
quality every day. Pray, where are your coaches and servants, my
lord?
_Fash_. Sir, that I might give you and your 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.
_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, though I say it that should not say it, Hoyden has
charms.
_Fash_. Sir, I am not a stranger to them, though I am to
her; common fame has done her justice.
_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 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.
_Fash_. Sir, I wait upon you. [_Exeunt_.]
SCENE IV.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House_.
MISS HOYDEN _discovered alone_.
_Miss Hoyd_. Sure, nobody was ever used as I am! I know well
enough what other girls do, for all they think to make a fool o'
me. It's well I have a husband a-coming, or ecod I'd marry the
baker, I would so. Nobody can knock at the gate, but presently I
must be locked up; and here's the young greyhound can run loose
about the house all the day, so she can.--'Tis very well!
_Nurse_. [_Without opening the door_.] Miss Hoyden!
miss, miss, miss! Miss Hoyden!
_Enter_ NURSE.
_Miss Hoyd_. Well, what do you make such a noise for, eh?
What do you din a body's ears for? Can't one be at quiet for you?
_Nurse_. What do I din your ears for? Here's one come will
din your ears for you.
_Miss Hoyd_. What care I who's come? I care not a fig who
comes, or who goes, so long as I must be locked up like the ale-cellar.
_Nurse_. That, miss, is for fear you should be drank before
you are ripe.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, don't trouble your head about that; I'm as
ripe as you, though not so mellow.
_Nurse_. Very well! Now I have a good mind to lock you up
again, and not let you see my lord to-night.
_Miss Hoyd_. My lord: why, is my husband come?
_Nurse_. Yes, marry, is he; and a goodly person too.
_Miss Hoyd_. [_Hugs_ NURSE.] Oh, 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.
_Nurse_. Ah, the poor thing! see now it melts; it's as full
of good-nature as an egg's full of meat.
_Miss Hoyd._ But, my dear nurse, don't lie now--is he come,
by your troth?
_Nurse._ Yes, by my truly, is he.
_Miss Hoyd_. O Lord! I'll go and put on my laced tucker,
though I'm locked up for a month for't.
[_Exeunt_. MISS HOYDEN _goes off capering, and twirling
her doll by its leg._]
ACT IV.
SCENE I.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House._
_Enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.
_Nurse_. Well, miss, how do you like your husband that is to
be?
_Miss Hoyd_. O Lord, nurse, I'm so overjoyed I can scarce
contain myself!
_Nurse_. Oh, but you must have a care of being too fond; for
men, nowadays, hate a woman that loves 'em.
_Miss Hoyd_. Love him! why, do you think I love him, nurse?
Ecod I would not care if he was hanged, 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, ecod, I'll flaunt it with the best of 'em. Ay, and I shall
have money enough to do so too, nurse.
_Nurse_. Ah, there's no knowing that, miss; for though 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 has not a spare half-crown to buy
her a Practice of Piety.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, but for that, don't deceive yourself,
nurse; for this I must say of my lord, he's as free as an open
house at Christmas; for this very morning he told me I should
have six hundred a year to buy pins. Now if he gives me six
hundred a year to buy pins, what do you think he'll give me to
buy petticoats?
_Nurse_. Ay, my dearest, he deceives thee foully, and he's
no better than a rogue for his pains! These Londoners have got a
gibberish with 'em would confound a gipsy. That which they call
pin-money, is to buy everything in the versal world, down to
their very shoe-knots. Nay, I have heard some folks say that some
ladies, if they'll have gallants as they call 'em, are forced to
find them out of their pin-money too.--But look, look, if his
honour be not coming to you!--Now, if I were sure you would
behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought
you up, I'd leave you alone together.
_Miss Hoyd_. That's my best nurse; do as you'd be done by.
Trust us together this once, and if I don't show my breeding, I
wish I may never be married, but die an old maid.
_Nurse_. Well, this once I'll venture you. But if you
disparage me--
_Miss Hoyd_. Never fear. [_Exit_ NURSE.]
_Enter_ TOM FASHION.
_Fash_. Your servant, madam; I'm glad to find you alone, for
I have something of importance to speak to you about.
_Miss Hoyd_. Sir (my lord, I meant), you may speak to me
about what you please, I shall give you a civil answer.
_Fash_. You give so obliging an one, it encourages me to
tell you in a few words what I think, both for your interest and
mine. Your father, I suppose you know, has resolved to make me
happy in being your husband; and I hope I may obtain your consent
to perform what he desires.
_Miss Hoyd_. Sir, I never disobey my father in anything but
eating green gooseberries.
_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.
_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, my lord, how long is that?
_Fash_. Madam, a thousand years--a whole week.
_Miss Hoyd_. Why, I thought it was to be to-morrow morning,
as soon as I was up. I'm sure nurse told me so.
_Fash_. And it shall be to-morrow morning, if you'll
consent.
_Miss Hoyd_. If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey
you as my husband.
_Fash_. That's when we are married. Till then, I'm to obey
you.
_Miss Hoyd_. 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.
_Fash_. With all my heart. But I doubt we must get nurse on
our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the chaplain.
_Miss Hoyd_. No more we shan't, indeed; for he loves her
better than he loves his pulpit, and would always be a-preaching
to her by his good will.
_Fash_. Why then, my dear, if you'll call her hither we'll
persuade her presently.
_Miss Hoyd_. O Lud! I'll tell you a way how to persuade her
to anything.
_Fash_. How's that?
_Miss Hoyd_. Why tell her she's a handsome comely woman, and
give her half a crown.
_Fash_. Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of
'em.
_Miss Hoyd_. O gemini! for half that she'd marry you
herself.--I'll run and call her. [_Exit.]
Fash_. So! matters go on swimmingly. This is a rare girl,
i'faith. I shall have a fine time on't with her at London.
_Enter_ LORY.
So, Lory, what's the matter?
_Lory_. Here, sir--an intercepted packet from the enemy;
your brother's postilion brought it. I knew the livery, pretended
to be a servant of Sir Tunbelly's, and so got possession of the
letter.
_Fash. [Looks at the letter_.] Ouns! he tells Sir Tunbelly
here that he will be with him this evening, with a large party to
supper.--Egad, I must marry the girl directly.
_Lory_. Oh, zounds, sir, directly to be sure. Here she
comes. [_Exit_.]
_Fash_. And the old Jezebel with her.
_Re-enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.
How do you do, good Mrs. Nurse? I desired your young lady would
give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your
extraordinary care and kind conduct in her education: pray accept
this small acknowledgment for it at present, and depend upon my
further kindness when I shall be that happy thing, her husband.
[_Gives her money._]
_Nurse_. [_Aside_.] Gold, by the maakins!--
[_Aloud_.] Your honour's goodness is too great. Alas! all I
can boast of is, I gave her pure and good milk, and so your
honour would have said, an you had seen how the poor thing
thrived, and how it would look up in my face, and crow and laugh,
it would.
_Miss Hoyd_. [_To_ NURSE, _taking her angrily
aside_.] Pray, one word with you. Pr'ythee, nurse, don't stand
ripping up old stories, to make one ashamed before one's love. Do
you think such a fine proper gentleman as he is cares for a
fiddlecome tale of a child? 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_ Tom FASHION.] I hope your
honour will excuse my mis-manners to whisper before you. It was
only to give some orders about the family.
_Fash_. Oh, everything, madam, is to give way to business;
besides, good housewifery is a very commendable quality in a
young lady.
_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, sir, are young ladies good housewives at
London-town? Do they darn their own linen?
_Fash_. Oh no, they study how to spend money, not to save.
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, I don't know but that may be better
sport, eh, nurse?
_Fash_. Well, you have your choice, when you come there.
_Miss Hoyd_. Shall I? then, by my troth, I'll get there as
fast as I can.--[_To_ NURSE.] His honour desires you'll be
so kind as to let us be married to-morrow.
_Nurse_. To-morrow, my dear madam?
_Fash_. Ay, faith, nurse, you may well be surprised at
miss's wanting to put it off so long. To-morrow! no, no; 'tis
now, this very hour, I would have the ceremony performed.
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, with all my heart.
_Nurse_. O mercy! worse and worse!
_Fash._ Yes, sweet nurse, now and privately; for all things
being signed and sealed, why should Sir Tunbelly make us stay a
week for a wedding-dinner?
_Nurse._ But if you should be married now, what will you do
when Sir Tunbelly calls for you to be married?
_Miss Hoyd._ Why then we will be married again.
_Nurse._ What twice, my child?
_Miss Hoyd._ Ecod, I don't care how often I'm married, not
I.
_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.
_Miss Hoyd._ Shall I? O Lord, I could leap over the moon!
_Fash._ Dear nurse, this goodness of yours shall be still
more rewarded. But now you must employ your power with the
chaplain, that he may do this friendly office too, and then we
shall be all happy. Do you think you can prevail with him?
_Nurse._ Prevail with him! or he shall never prevail with
me, I can tell him that.
_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.
_Nurse._ Nay, then, I'll make him marry more folks than one,
I'll promise him!
_Miss Hoyd._ Faith, do, nurse, make him marry you too; I'm
sure he'll do't for a fat living.
_Fash._ Well, nurse, while you go and settle matters with
him, your lady and I will go and take a walk in the garden.--
[_Exit_ NURSE.] Come, madam, dare you venture yourself alone
with me? [_Takes_ MISS HOYDEN _by the hand.]
Miss Hoyd._ Oh dear, yes, sir; I don't think you'll do
anythink to me, I need be afraid on. [_Exeunt._]
SCENE II.--AMANDA's _Dressing-room._
_Enter_ AMANDA _followed by her_ MAID.
_Maid._ If you please, madam, only to say whether you'll
have me buy them or not?
_Aman._ Yes--no--Go, teaser; I care not what you do.
Pr'ythee, leave me. [_Exit_ MAID.]
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber._ What, in the name of Jove, is the matter with you?
_Aman._ The matter, Berinthia! I'm almost mad; I'm plagued
to death.
_Ber._ Who is it that plagues you?
_Aman._ Who do you think should plague a wife but her
husband?
_Ber._ O, ho! is it come to that?--We shall have you wish
yourself a widow, by-and-by.
_Aman._ Would I were anything but what I am! A base,
ungrateful man, to use me thus!
_Ber._ What, has he given you fresh reason to suspect his
wandering?
_Aman._ Every hour gives me reason.
_Ber._ And yet, Amanda, you perhaps at this moment cause in
another's breast the same tormenting doubts and jealousies which
you feel so sensibly yourself.
_Aman._ Heaven knows I would not.
_Ber._ Why, you can't tell but there may be some one as
tenderly attached to Townly, whom you boast of as your conquest,
as you can be to your husband?
_Aman._ I'm sure, I never encouraged his pretensions.
_Ber._ Psha! psha! no sensible man ever perseveres to love
without encouragement. Why have you not treated him as you have
Lord Foppington?
_Aman._ Because he presumed not so far. But let us drop the
subject. Men, not women, are riddles. Mr. Loveless now follows
some flirt for variety, whom I'm sure he does not like so well as
he does me.
_Ber._ That's more than you know, madam.
_Aman._ Why, do you know the ugly thing?
_Ber._ I think I can guess at the person; but she's no such
ugly thing neither.
_Aman._ Is she very handsome?
_Ber._ Truly I think so.
_Aman._ Whate'er she be, I'm sure he does not like her well
enough to bestow anything more than a little outward gallantry
upon her.
_Ber._ [_Aside._] Outward gallantry! I can't bear
this.--
[_Aloud._] Come, come, don't you be too secure, Amanda:
while you suffer Townly to imagine that you do not detest him for
his designs on you, you have no right to complain that your
husband is engaged elsewhere. But here comes the person we were
speaking of.
_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Col. Town._ Ladies, as I come uninvited, I beg, if I
intrude, you will use the same freedom in turning me out again.
_Aman._ I believe it is near the time Loveless said he would
be at home. He talked of accepting Lord Foppington's invitation
to sup at Sir Tunbelly Clumsy's.
_Col. Town._ His lordship has done me the honour to invite
me also. If you'll let me escort you, I'll let you into a mystery
as we go, in which you must play a part when we arrive.
_Aman._ But we have two hours yet to spare; the carriages
are not ordered till eight, and it is not a five minutes' drive.
So, cousin, let us keep the colonel to play at piquet with us,
till Mr. Loveless comes home.
_Ber._ As you please, madam; but you know I have a letter to
write.
_Col. Town._ Madam, you know you may command me, though I am
a very wretched gamester.
_Aman._ Oh, you play well enough to lose your money, and
that's all the ladies require; and so, without any more ceremony,
let us go into the next room, and call for cards and candles.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE III.--BERINTHIA'S _Dressing-room._
_Enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love._ So, thus far all's well: I have got into her
dressing-room, and it being dusk, I think nobody has perceived me
steal into the house. I heard Berinthia tell my wife she had some
particular letters to write this evening, before she went to Sir
Tunbelly's, and here are the implements of correspondence.--How
shall I muster up assurance to show myself, when she comes? I
think she has given me encouragement; and, to do my impudence
justice, I have made the most of it.--I hear a door open, and
some one coming. If it should be my wife, what the devil should I
say? I believe she mistrusts me, and, by my life, I don't deserve
her tenderness. However, I am determined to reform, though not
yet. Ha! Berinthia!--So, I'll step in here, till I see what sort
of humour she is in. [_Goes into the closet_.]
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber_. Was ever so provoking a situation! To think I should
sit and hear him compliment Amanda to my face! I have lost all
patience with them both! I would not for something have Loveless
know what temper of mind they have piqued me into; yet I can't
bear to leave them together. No, I'll put my papers away, and
return, to disappoint them.--[_Goes to the closet_.]--O
Lord! a ghost! a ghost! a ghost!
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. Peace, my angel; it's no ghost, but one worth a
hundred spirits.
_Ber_. How, sir, have you had the insolence to presume to--
run in again; here's somebody coming. [LOVELESS _goes into the
closet_.]
_Enter_ MAID.
_Maid_. O Lord, ma'am, what's the matter?
_Ber_. O Heavens! I'm almost frightened out of my wits! I
thought verily I had seen a ghost, and 'twas nothing but a black
hood pinned against the wall. You may go again; I am the
fearfullest fool! [Exit MAID.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. Is the coast clear?
_Ber_. The coast clear! Upon my word, I wonder at your
assurance.
_Love_. Why, then, you wonder before I have given you a
proof of it. But where's my wife?
_Ber_. At cards.
_Love_. With whom?
_Ber_. With Townly.
_Love_. Then we are safe enough.
_Ber_. You are so! Some husbands would be of another mind,
were he at cards with their wives.
_Love_. And they'd be in the right on't, too; but I dare
trust mine.
_Ber_. Indeed! and she, I doubt not, has the same confidence
in you. Yet, do you think she'd be content to come and find you
here?
_Love_. Egad, as you say, that's true!--Then for fear she
should come, hadn't we better go into the next room, out of her
way?
_Ber_. What, in the dark?
_Love_. Ay, or with a light, which you please.
_Ber_. You are certainly very impudent.
_Love_. Nay, then--let me conduct you, my angel!
_Ber_. Hold, hold! you are mistaken in your angel, I assure
you.
_Love_. I hope not; for by this hand I swear--
_Ber_. Come, come, let go my hand, or I shall hate you!--
I'll cry out, as I live!
_Love_. Impossible! you cannot be so cruel.
_Ber_. Ha! here's some one coming. Begone instantly.
_Love_. Will you promise to return, if I remain here?
_Ber_. Never trust myself in a room again with you while I
live.
_Love_. But I have something particular to communicate to
you.
_Ber_. Well, well, before we go to Sir Tunbelly's, I'll walk
upon the lawn. If you are fond of a moonlight evening, you'll
find me there.
_Love_. I'faith, they're coming here now! I take you at your
word. [_Exit into the closet_.]
_Ber_. 'Tis Amanda, as I live! I hope she has not heard his
voice; though I mean she should have her share of jealousy in her
turn.
_Enter_ AMANDA.
_Aman_. Berinthia, why did you leave me?
_Ber_. I thought I only spoiled your party.
_Aman_. Since you have been gone, Townly has attempted
to renew his importunities. I must break with him, for I cannot
venture to acquaint Mr. Loveless with his conduct.
_Ber_. Oh, no! Mr. Loveless mustn't know of it by any means.
_Aman_. Oh, not for the world--I wish, Berinthia, you would
undertake to speak to Townly on the subject.
_Ber_. Upon my word, it would be a very pleasant subject for
me to talk upon! But, come, let us go back; and you may depend
on't I'll not leave you together again, if I can help it.
[_Exeunt_.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. So--so! a pretty piece of business I have overheard!
Townly makes love to my wife, and I am not to know it for all the
world. I must inquire into this--and, by Heaven, if I find that
Amanda has, in the smallest degree--yet what have I been at
here!--Oh, 'sdeath! that's no rule.
That wife alone unsullied credit wins,
Whose virtues can atone her husband's sins,
Thus, while the man has other nymphs in view,
It suits the woman to be doubly true.
[_Exit_.]
ACT V.
SCENE I.--_The Garden behind_ LOVELESS's _Lodgings_.
_Enter_ LOVELESS.
_Love_. Now, does she mean to make a fool of me, or not! I
shan't wait much longer, for my wife will soon be inquiring for
me to set out on our supping party. Suspense is at all times the
devil, but of all modes of suspense, the watching for a loitering
mistress is the worst.--But let me accuse her no longer; she
approaches with one smile to o'erpay the anxieties of a year.
_Enter_ BERINTHIA.
O Berinthia, what a world of kindness are you in my debt! had you
stayed five minutes longer--
_Ber_. You would have gone, I suppose?
_Love_. Egad, she's right enough. [_Aside.]
Ber_. And I assure you 'twas ten to one that I came at all. In
short, I begin to think you are too dangerous a being to trifle
with; and as I shall probably only make a fool of you at last, I
believe we had better let matters rest as they are.
_Love_. You cannot mean it, sure?
_Ber_. What more would you have me give to a married man?
_Love_. How doubly cruel to remind me of my misfortunes!
_Ber_. A misfortune to be married to so charming a woman as
Amanda?
_Love_. I grant her all her merit, but--'sdeath! now see
what you have done by talking of her--she's here, by all that's
unlucky, and Townly with her.--I'll observe them.
_Ber_. O Gad, we had better get out of the way; for I should
feel as awkward to meet her as you.
_Love_. Ay, if I mistake not, I see Townly coming this way
also. I must see a little into this matter. [_Steps aside_.]
_Ber_. Oh, if that's your intention, I am no woman if I
suffer myself to be outdone in curiosity. [_Goes on the other
side_.]
_Enter_ AMANDA.
_Aman_. Mr. Loveless come home, and walking on the lawn! I
will not suffer him to walk so late, though perhaps it is to show
his neglect of me.--Mr. Loveless, I must speak with you.--Ha!
Townly again!--How I am persecuted!
_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.
_Col. Town_. Madam, you seem disturbed.
_Aman_. Sir, I have reason.
_Col. Town_. Whatever be the cause, I would to Heaven it
were in my power to bear the pain, or to remove the malady.
_Aman_. Your interference can only add to my distress.
_Col. Town_. Ah, madam, if it be the sting of unrequited
love you suffer from, seek for your remedy in revenge: weigh well
the strength and beauty of your charms, and rouse up that spirit
a woman ought to bear. Disdain the false embraces of a husband.
See at your feet a real lover; his zeal may give him title to
your pity, although his merit cannot claim your love.
_Love_. So, so, very fine, i'faith! [_Aside_.]
_Aman_. Why do you presume to talk to me thus? Is this your
friendship to Mr. Loveless? I perceive you will compel me at last
to acquaint him with your treachery.
_Col. Town_. He could not upbraid me if you were.--He
deserves it from me; for he has not been more false to you than
faithless to me.
_Aman_. To you?
_Col. Town_. Yes, madam; the lady for whom he now deserts
those charms which he was never worthy of, was mine by right;
and, I imagine too, by inclination. Yes, madam, Berinthia, who
now--
_Aman_. Berinthia! Impossible!
_Col. Town_. 'Tis true, or may I never merit your attention.
She is the deceitful sorceress who now holds your husband's heart
in bondage.
_Aman_. I will not believe it.
_Col. Town_. By the faith of a true lover, I speak from
conviction. This very day I saw them together, and overheard--
_Aman_. Peace, sir! I will not even listen to such slander--
this is a poor device to work on my resentment, to listen to your
insidious addresses. No, sir; though Mr. Loveless may be capable
of error, I am convinced I cannot be deceived so grossly in him
as to believe what you now report; and for Berinthia, you should
have fixed on some more probable person for my rival than her who
is my relation and my friend: for while I am myself free from
guilt, I will never believe that love can beget injury, or
confidence create ingratitude.
_Col. Town_. If I do not prove to you--
_Aman._ You never shall have an opportunity. From the artful
manner in which you first showed yourself to me, I might have
been led, as far as virtue permitted, to have thought you less
criminal than unhappy; but this last unmanly artifice merits at
once my resentment and contempt. [_Exit_.]
_Col. Town_. Sure there's divinity about her; and she has
dispensed some portion of honour's light to me: yet can I bear to
lose Berinthia without revenge or compensation? Perhaps she is
not so culpable as I thought her. I was mistaken when I began to
think lightly of Amanda's virtue, and may be in my censure of my
Berinthia. Surely I love her still, for I feel I should be happy
to find myself in the wrong. [_Exit_.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS _and_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber_. Your servant, Mr. Loveless.
_Love_. Your servant, madam.
_Ber_. Pray what do you think of this?
_Love_. Truly, I don't know what to say.
_Ber_. Don't you think we steal forth two contemptible
creatures?
_Love_. Why, tolerably so, I must confess.
_Ber_. And do you conceive it possible for you ever to give
Amanda the least uneasiness again?
_Love_. No, I think we never should indeed.
_Ber_. We! why, monster, you don't pretend that I ever
entertained a thought?
_Love_. Why then, sincerely and honestly, Berinthia, there
is something in my wife's conduct which strikes me so forcibly,
that if it were not for shame, and the fear of hurting you in her
opinion, I swear I would follow her, confess my error, and trust
to her generosity for forgiveness.
_Ber_. Nay, pr'ythee, don't let your respect for me prevent
you; for as my object in trifling with you was nothing more than
to pique Townly, and as I perceive he has been actuated by a
similar motive, you may depend on't I shall make no mystery of
the matter to him.
_Love_. By no means inform him: for though I may choose to
pass by his conduct without resentment, how will he presume to
look me in the face again?
_Ber_. How will you presume to look him in the face again?
_Love_. He, who has dared to attempt the honour of my wife!
_Ber_. You who have dared to attempt the honour of his
mistress! Come, come, be ruled by me, who affect more levity than
I have, and don't think of anger in this cause. A readiness to
resent injuries is a virtue only in those who are slow to injure.
_Love_. Then I will be ruled by you; and when you think
proper to undeceive Townly, may your good qualities make as
sincere a convert of him as Amanda's have of me.-When truth's
extorted from us, then we own the robe of virtue is a sacred
habit.
Could women but our secret counsel scan--
Could they but reach the deep reserve of man--
To keep our love they'd rate their virtue high,
They live together, and together die.
[_Exeunt_.]
SCENE II.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House.
Enter_ MISS HOYDEN, NURSE, _and_ TOM FASHION.
_Fash_. This quick despatch of the chaplain's I take so
kindly it shall give him claim to my favour as long as I live, I
assure you.
_Miss Hoyd_. And to mine too, I promise you.
_Nurse_. I most humbly thank your honours; and may your
children swarm about you like bees about a honeycomb!
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, with all my heart--the more the merrier,
I say--ha, nurse?
_Enter_ LORY.
_Lory_. One word with you, for Heaven's sake. [_Taking_
TOM FASHION _hastily aside_.]
_Fash_. What the devil's the matter?
_Lory_. Sir, your fortune's ruined if you are not married.
Yonder's your brother arrived, with two coaches and six horses,
twenty footmen, and a coat worth fourscore pounds--so judge what
will become of your lady's heart.
_Fash_. Is he in the house yet?
_Lory_. No, they are capitulating with him at the gate. Sir
Tunbelly luckily takes him for an impostor; and I have told him
that we have heard of this plot before.
_Fash_. That's right.--[_Turning to_ MISS HOYDEN.] My
dear, here's a troublesome business my man tells me of, but don't
be frightened; 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.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, the brazen-faced varlet! it's well we are
married, or maybe we might never have been so.
_Fash. [Aside_.] Egad, like enough.--[_Aloud_.]
Pr'ythee, nurse, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to
the gate before I speak to him.
_Nurse_. An't please your honour, my lady and I had
better, lock ourselves up till the danger be over.
_Fash_. Do so, if you please.
_Miss Hoyd_. Not so fast; I won't be locked up any more, now
I'm married.
_Fash_. Yes, pray, my dear, do, till we have seized this
rascal.
_Miss Hoyd_. Nay, if you'll pray me, I'll do anything.
[_Exit with_ NURSE.]
_Fash_. Hark you, sirrah, things are better than you
imagine. The wedding's over.
_Lory_. The devil it is, sir! [_Capers about_.]
_Fash_. Not a word--all's safe--but Sir Tunbelly don't know
it, nor must not yet. So I am resolved to brazen the brunt of the
business out, and have the pleasure of turning the impostor upon
his lordship, which I believe may easily be done.
_Enter_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.
Did you ever hear, sir, of so impudent an undertaking?
_Sir Tun_. Never, by the mass; but we'll tickle him, I'll
warrant you.
_Fash_. They tell me, sir, he has a great many people with
him, disguised like servants.
_Sir Tun_. Ay, ay, rogues enow, but we have mastered them.
We only fired a few shot over their heads, and the regiment
scoured in an instant.--Here, Tummus, bring in your prisoner.
_Fash_. If you please, Sir Tunbelly, it will be best for me
not to confront this fellow yet, till you have heard how far his
impudence will carry him.
_Sir Tun_. Egad, your lordship is an ingenious person. Your
lordship, then, will please to step aside.
_Lory_. [_Aside_.] 'Fore heavens, I applaud my master's
modesty! [_Exit with_ TOM FASHION.]
_Enter_ SERVANTS, _with_ LORD FOPPINGTON
_disarmed_.
_Sir Tun_. Come, bring him along, bring him along.
_Lord Fop_. What the plague do you mean, gentlemen? is it
fair time, that you are all drunk before supper?
_Sir Tun_. Drunk, sirrah! here's an impudent rogue for you
now. Drunk or sober, bully, I'm a justice o' the peace, and know
how to deal with strollers.
_Lord Fop_. Strollers!
_Sir Tun_. Ay, strollers. Come, give an account of yourself.
What's your name? where do you live? do you pay scot and lot?
Come, are you a freeholder or a copyholder?
_Lord Fop_. And why dost thou ask me so many impertinent
questions?
_Sir Tun_. Because I'll make you answer 'em, before I have
done with you, you rascal, you!
_Lord Fop_. Before Gad, all the answer I can make to them
is, that you are a very extraordinary old fellow, stap my vitals.
_Sir Tun_. Nay, if thou art joking deputy-lieutenants, we
know how to deal with you.--Here, draw a warrant for him
immediately.
_Lord Fop_. A warrant! What the devil is't thou wouldst be
at, old gentleman?
_Sir Tun_. I would be at you, sirrah, (if my hands were not
tied as a magistrate,) and with these two double fists beat your
teeth down your throat, you dog, you! [_Driving him_.]
_Lord Fop_. And why wouldst thou spoil my face at that rate?
_Sir Tun_. For your design to rob me of my daughter,
villain.
_Lord Fop_. Rob thee of thy daughter! Now do I begin to
believe I am in bed and asleep, and that all this is but a dream.
Pr'ythee, old father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one
question?
_Sir Tun_. I can't tell whether I will or not, till I know
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?
_Sir Tun._ Yes, marry, did I, and my Lord Foppington is come
down, and shall marry my daughter before she's a day older.
_Lord Fop._ Now give me thy hand, old dad; I thought we
should understand one another at last.
_Sir Tun._ The fellow's mad!--Here, bind him hand and foot.
[_They bind him._]
_Lord Fop._ Nay, pr'ythee, knight, leave fooling; thy jest
begins to grow dull.
_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.
_Lord Fop._ Pr'ythee, Sir Tunbelly, why should you take such
an aversion to the freedom of my address as to suffer the rascals
thus to skewer down my arms like a rabbit?--[_Aside._] Egad,
if I don't awake, by all that I can see, this is like to prove
one of the most impertinent dreams that ever I dreamt in my life.
_Re-enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.
_Miss Hoyd._ [_Going up to_ LORD FOPPINGTON.] Is this
he that would have run--Fough, how he stinks of sweets!--Pray,
father, let him be dragged through the horse-pond.
_Lord Fop._ This must be my wife, by her natural inclination
to her husband. [_Aside._]
_Miss Hoyd._ Pray, father, what do you intend to do with
him--hang him?
_Sir Tun._ That, at least, child.
_Nurse._ Ay, and it's e'en too good for him too.
_Lord Fop._ Madame la gouvernante, I presume: hitherto this
appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary families that
ever man of quality matched into. [_Aside._]
_Sir Tun._ What's become of my lord, daughter?
_Miss Hoyd._ He's just coming, sir.
_Lord Fop._ My lord! what does he mean by that, now?
[_Aside._]
_Re-enter_ TOM FASHION _and_ LORY.
Stap my vitals, Tam, now the dream's out! [_Runs._]
_Fash._ Is this the fellow, sir, that designed to trick me
of your daughter?
_Sir Tun_. This is he, my lord. How do you like him? Is not
he a pretty fellow to get a fortune?
_Fash_. I find by his dress he thought your daughter might
be taken with a beau.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, gemini! is this a beau? let me see him
again. [_Surveys him_.] Ha! I find a beau is no such ugly
thing, neither.
_Fash. [Aside_.] Egad, she'll be in love with him presently
--I'll e'en have him sent away to jail.--[_To_ LORD
FOPPINGTON.] Sir, though your undertaking shows you a person of
no extraordinary modesty, I suppose you ha'n't confidence enough
to expect much favour from me?
_Lord Fop_. Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent
fellow.
_Nurse_. Look, if the varlet has not the effrontery to call
his lordship plain Thomas!
_Lord Fop_. My Lord Foppington, shall I beg one word with
your lordship?
_Nurse_. Ho, ho! it's my lord with him now! See how
afflictions will humble folks.
_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, my lord--[_To_ FASHION]--don't let
him whisper too close, lest he bite your ear off.
_Lord Fop_. I am not altogether so hungry as your ladyship
is pleased to imagine.--[_Aside to_ TOM FASHION.] Look you,
Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to you as I ought, but
I hope you'll forgive what's past, and accept of the five
thousand pounds I offer--thou mayst live in extreme splendour
with it, stap my vitals!
_Fash_. It's a much easier matter to prevent a disease than
to cure it. A quarter of that sum would have secured your
mistress, twice as much cannot redeem her. [_Aside to_ LORD
FOPPINGTON.]
_Sir Tun_. Well, what says he?
_Fash_. Only the rascal offered me a bribe to let him go.
_Sir Tun_. Ay, he shall go, with a plague to him!--lead on,
constable.
_Enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser_. Sir, here is Muster Loveless, and Muster Colonel
Townly, and some ladies to wait on you. [_To_ TOM FASHION.]
_Lory. [Aside to_ TOM FASHION.] So, sir, what will you do
now?
_Fash_. [_Aside to_ LORY.] Be quiet; they are in the
plot.--[_Aloud_.] Only a few friends, Sir Tunbelly, whom I
wish to introduce to you.
_Lord Fop_. Thou art the most impudent fellow, Tam, that
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