Act IV Scene I.
Enter Miss Hoyden and Nurse.
Nurse. Well, Miss, how do you like your Husband that is to be?
Miss. O Lord, Nurse, I’m so overjoy’d, I can scarce contain myself.
Nurse. O, but you must have a care of being too fond; for Men now a-days hate a Woman that loves ’em.
Miss. Love him! Why do you think I love him, Nurse? I’cod, I would not care if he were hang’d, so I were but once married to him——No——that which pleases me, is to think what Work I’ll make when I get to London; for when I am a Wife and a Lady both, Nurse, I’cod, I’ll flant it with the best of ’em.
Nurse. Look, look, if his Honour be not a coming to you; now if I were sure you wou’d behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought you up, I’d leave you alone together.
Miss. That’s my best Nurse, do as you wou’d be done by; trust us together this once; and if I don’t shew my Breeding from the Head to the Foot of me, may I be twice married, and die a Maid!
Nurse. Well, this once I’ll venture you; but if you disparage me——
Miss. Never fear, I’ll shew him my Parts, I’ll warrant him.
[Exit Nurse.
Sola.
These old Women are so wise when they get a poor Girl into their Clutches; but ere it be long, I shall know what’s what, as well as the best of ’em.
Enter Young Fashion.
Young Fash. Your Servant, Madam, I’m glad to find you alone; for I have something of Importance to speak to you about.
Miss. Sir, (my Lord, I meant) you may speak to me about what you please, I shall give you a civil Answer.
Young Fash. You give me so obliging a one, it encourages me to tell you in few Words, what I think both for your Interest and mine. Your Father, I suppose you know, has resolv’d to make me happy in being your Husband, and I hope I may depend upon your Consent, to perform what he desires.
Miss. Sir, I never disobey my Father in any thing but eating of green Gooseberries.
Young Fash. So good a Daughter must needs be an admirable Wife; I am therefore impatient till you are mine, and hope you will so far consider the Violence of my Love, that you won’t have the Cruelty to defer my Happiness so long as your Father designs it.
Miss. Pray, my Lord, how long is it?
Young Fash. Madam, a thousand Year——a whole Week.
Miss. A Week!——why, I shall be an old Woman by that time.
Young Fash. And I an old Man, which you’ll find a greater Misfortune than t’other.
Miss. Why I thought it was to be to-morrow Morning, as soon as I was up; I’m sure Nurse told me so.
Young Fash. And it shall be to-morrow Morning still, if you’ll consent.
Miss. If I’ll consent! Why I thought I was to obey you as my Husband.
Young Fash. That’s when we are married; till then, I am to obey you.
Miss. Why then if we are to take it by turns, it’s the same thing: I’ll obey you now, and when we are married, you shall obey me.
Young Fash. With all my heart; but I doubt we must get Nurse on our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the Chaplain.
Miss. No more we shan’t indeed, for he loves her better than he loves his Pulpit, and wou’d always be a preaching to her, by his good Will.
Young Fash. Why then, my dear little Bedfellow, if you’ll call her hither, we’ll try to persuade her presently.
Miss. O Lord, I can tell you a way how to persuade her to any thing.
Young Fash. How’s that?
Miss. Why tell her she’s a wholesome, comely Woman——and give her Half a Crown.
Young Fash. Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of ’em.
Miss. O Gemini, for half that she’d marry you herself: I’ll run and call her.
[Exit Miss.
Young Fashion solus.
So, Matters go swimmingly; this is a rare Girl, i’faith; I shall have a fine time of it with her at London. I’m much mistaken if she don’t prove a March Hare all the Year round. What a scampering Chace will she make on’t, when me finds the whole Kennel of Beaux at her Tail! Hey to the Park and the Play, and the Church, and the Devil; she’ll shew them sport, I’ll warrant ’em. But no matter, she brings an Estate will afford me a separate Maintenance.
Enter Miss and Nurse.
Young Fash. How do you do, good Mistress Nurse? I desir’d your young Lady would give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your extraordinary Care and Conduct in her Education; pray accept of this small Acknowledgement for it at present, and depend upon my farther Kindness, when I shall be that happy thing her Husband.
Nurse. [Aside.] Gold by mackins! Your Honour’s Goodness is too great: alas! all I can boast of is, I gave her poor good Milk, and so your Honour wou’d have said, an you had seen how the poor thing suck’t it——Eh, God’s blessing on the sweet Face on’t! how it us’d to hang at this poor Teat, and suck and squeeze, and kick and sprawl it wou’d, till the Belly on’t was so full, it wou’d drop off like a Leech.
[Miss to Nurse, taking her angrily aside.
Pray one word with you; pr’ythee, Nurse, don’t stand ripping up old Stories, to make one asham’d before one’s Love: do you think such a fine proper Gentleman as he is, cares for a fiddlecome Tale of a draggle-tail’d Girl;, if you have a mind to make him have a good Opinion of a Woman, don’t tell him what one did then, tell him what one can do now. [To Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse my Mismanners to whisper before you, it was only to give some orders about the Family.
Young Fash. O every thing, Madam, is to give way to Business; besides, good Housewifery is a very commendable Quality in a young Lady.
Miss. Pray, Sir, are the young Ladies good Housewives at London Town? Do they darn their own Linen?
Young Fash. O no, they study how to spend Money, not to save it.
Miss. I’cod, I don’t know but that may be better Sport than t’other, ha, Nurse!
Young Fash. Well, you shall have your Choice when you come there.
Miss. 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 marry’d to-morrow.
Nurse. To-morrow, my dear Madam?
Young Fash. Yes, to-morrow, sweet Nurse, privately; young Folks, you know, are impatient, and Sir Tunbelly wou’d make us stay a Week for a Wedding-Dinner. Now all things being sign’d and seal’d, and agreed, I fancy there cou’d be no great harm in practising a Scene or two of Matrimony in private, if it were only to give us the better Assurance when we come to play it in publick.
Nurse. Nay, I must confess stolen Pleasures are sweet; but if you shou’d be married now, what will you do when Sir Tunbelly calls for you to be wedded?
Miss. Why then we will be married again.
Nurse. What, twice, my Child?
Miss. I’cod, I don’t care how often I’m married, not I.
Young Fash. Pray, Nurse, don’t you be against your young Lady’s good; for by this means she’ll have the pleasure of two Wedding-Days.
Miss to Nurse softly.] And of two Wedding-Nights too, Nurse.
Nurse. Well, I’m such a tender-hearted Fool, I find I can refuse you nothing; so you shall e’en follow your own Inventions.
Miss. Shall I? [Aside.] O Lord, I could leap over the Moon.
Young Fash. Dear Nurse, this Goodness of yours shan’t go unrewarded; but now you must employ your Power with Mr. Bull the Chaplain, that he may do his friendly Office too, and then we shall be all happy; do you think you can prevail with him?
Nurse. Prevail with him——or he shall never prevail with me, I can tell him that.
Miss. My Lord, she has had him upon the hip this seven Year.
Young Fash. I’m glad to hear it; however, to strengthen your Interest with him, you may let him know I have several fat Livings in my Gift, and that the first that falls shall be in your Disposal.
Nurse. Nay, then I’ll make him marry more Folks, than one, I’ll promise him.
Miss. Faith, do, Nurse, make him marry you too; I’m sure he’ll do’t for a fat Living; for he loves Eating more than he loves his Bible; and I have often heard, him say, a fat Living was the best Meat in the World.
Nurse. Ay, and I’ll make him commend the Sauce too, or I’ll bring his Gown to a Cassock, I will so.
Young Fash. Well, Nurse, whilst you go and settle Matters with him, your Lady and I will go and take a walk in the Garden.
Nurse. I’ll do your Honour’s Business in the catching up of a Garter.
[Exit Nurse.
Young Fash. [Giving her his Hand.] Come, Madam, dare you venture yourself alone with me?
Miss. O dear, yes, Sir; I don’t think you’ll do any thing to me I need be afraid on.
Enter Amanda and Berinthia.
A SONG.
I.
I Smile at Love, and all its Arts,
The Charming Cynthia cry’d;
Take heed, for Love has piercing Darts,
A wounded Swain reply’d.
Once free and blest as you are now,
I trifled with his Charms;
I pointed at his little Bow,
And sported with his Arms;
Till urg’d too far, Revenge he cries,
A fated Shaft he drew;
It took its passage thro your Eyes,
And to my Heart it flew.
II.
To tear it thence I try’d in vain;
To strive I quickly found
Was only to increase the Pain,
And to enlarge the Wound.
Ah! much too well, I fear, you know
What pain I’m to endure,
Since what your Eyes alone cou’d do,
Your Heart alone can cure.
And That (grant Heaven I may mistake)
I doubt is doom’d to bear
A Burden for another’s sake,
Who ill rewards its Care.
Aman. Well, now, Berinthia, I’m at leisure to hear what ’twas you had to say to me.
Ber. What I had to say, was only to echo the Sighs and Groans of a dying Lover.
Aman. Phu, will you never learn to talk in earnest of any thing?
Ber. Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only tell you Matter of Fact—you may take it which way you like best; but if you’ll follow the Women of the Town, you’ll take it both ways; for when a Man offers himself to one of them, first she takes him in jest, and then she takes him in earnest.
Aman. I’m sure there’s so much jest and earnest in what you say to me, I scarce know how to take it; but I think you have bewitched me, for I don’t find it possible to be angry with you, say what you will.
Ber. I’m very glad to hear it, for I have no mind to quarrel with you, for some Reasons that I’ll not brag of; but quarrel or not, smile or frown, I must tell you what I have suffer’d upon your account.
Aman. Upon my account!
Ber. Yes, upon yours; I have been forc’d to sit still and hear you commended for two Hours together, without one Compliment to myself; now don’t you think a Woman has a blessed time of that?
Aman. Alas! I shou’d have been unconcern’d at it; I never knew where the Pleasure lay of being prais’d by the Men: but pray who was this that commended me so?
Ber. One you have a mortal Aversion to—Mr. Worthy: he us’d you like a Text, he took you all to pieces, but spoke so learnedly upon every Point, one might see the Spirit of the Church was in him: if you are a Woman, you’d have been in an Extasy to have heard how feelingly he handled your Hair, your Eyes, your Nose, your Mouth, your Teeth, your Tongue, your Chin, your Neck, and so forth. Thus he preach’d for an Hour; but when he came to use an Application, he observ’d that all these, without a Gallant, were nothing—Now consider of what has been said, and Heaven give you Grace to put it in practice!
Aman. Alas! Berinthia, did I incline to a Gallant, (which you know I do not) do you think a Man so nice as he, cou’d have the least concern for such a plain unpolish’d thing as I am? It is impossible!
Ber. Now have you a great mind to put me upon commending you.
Aman. Indeed that was not my Design.
Ber. Nay, if it were, it’s all one, for I won’t do’t, I’ll leave that to your Looking-glass. But to shew you I have some Good-nature left, I’ll commend him, and may be that may do as well.
Aman. You have a great mind to persuade me I am in love with him.
Ber. I have a great mind to persuade you, you don’t know what you are in love with.
Aman. I am sure I am not in love with him, nor never shall be; so let that pass: but you were saying something you wou’d commend him for.
Ber. O, you’d be glad to hear a good Character of him, however.
Aman. Psha.
Ber. Psha——Well, ’tis a foolish Undertaking for Women in these kind of Matters, to pretend to deceive one another——Have not I been bred a Woman as well as you?
Aman. What then?
Ber. Why then I understand my Trade so well, that whenever I am told of a Man I like, I cry, Psha! But that I may spare you the pains of putting me a second time in mind to commend him, I’ll proceed, and give you this account of him: That tho’ ’tis possible he may have had Women with as good Faces as your Ladyship’s, (no Discredit to it neither) yet you must know your cautious Behaviour, with that Reserve in your Humour, has given him his Death’s Wound; he mortally hates a Coquette; he says ’tis impossible to love where he cannot esteem; and that no Woman can be esteemed by a Man who has Sense, if she makes herself cheap in the Eye of a Fool. That Pride to a Woman, is as necessary as Humility to a Divine; and that far-fetch’d, and dear bought, is Meat for Gentlemen, as well as for Ladies——In short, that every Woman who has Beauty may set a price upon herself, and that by under-selling the Market they ruin the Trade. This is his Doctrine, how do you like it?
Aman. So well that, since I never intend to have a Gallant for myself, if I were to recommend one to a Friend, he shou’d be the Man.
Enter Worthy.
Bless me, he’s here! pray Heaven he did not hear me!
Ber. If he did, it won’t hurt your Reputation; your Thoughts are as safe in his Heart as in your own.
Wor. I venture in at an unseasonable time of Night, Ladies; I hope if I am troublesome, you’ll use the same freedom in turning me out again.
Aman. I believe it can’t be late, for Mr. Loveless is not come home yet, and he usually keeps good Hours.
Wor. Madam, I’m afraid he’ll transgress a little to-night; for he told me about half an Hour ago, he was going to sup with some Company, he doubted would keep him out till three or four o’clock in the Morning, and desir’d I would let my Servant acquaint you with it, that you might not expect him: But my Fellow’s a Blunder-head; so, lest he should make some mistake, I thought it my Duty to deliver the Message myself.
Aman. I’m very sorry he shou’d give you that trouble, Sir: But——
Ber. But since he has, will you give me leave, Madam, to keep him to play at Ombre with us?
Aman. Cousin, you know you command my House.
Wor. to Ber.] And, Madam, you know you command me, tho’ I’m a very wretched Gamester.
Ber. O you play well enough to lose your Money, and that’s all the Ladies require; so without any more Ceremony, let us go into the next Room and call for the Cards.
Aman. With all my heart.
[Exit Wor. leading Aman.
Ber. sola. Well, how this Business will end, Heaven knows; but she seems to me to be in as fair a way——as a Boy is to be a Rogue, when he’s put Clerk to an Attorney.
[Exit Berinthia.
Scene, Berinthia’s Chamber
Enter Loveless cautiously in the dark.
Lov. So, thus for all’s well. I’m got into her Bed-Chamber, and I think nobody has perceiv’d me steal into the House; my Wife don’t expect me home till four o’Clock; so if Berinthia comes to Bed by eleven, I shall have a Chace of five Hours. Let me see, where shall I hide myself? Under her Bed? No; we shall have her Maid searching there for something or other; her Closet’s a better place, and I have a Master-Key will open it: I’ll e’en in there, and attack her just when she comes to her Prayers, that’s the most like to prove her critical Minute; for then the Devil will be there to assist me.
[He opens the Closet, goes in, and shuts the door after him.
Enter Berinthia with a Candle in her hand.
Ber. Well, sure I am the best-natur’d Woman in the World. I that love Cards so well (there is but one thing upon the Earth I love better) have pretended Letters to write, to give my Friends a Tête-à-Tête; however, I’m innocent, for Picquet is the Game I set ’em to: at her own peril be it, if she ventures to play with him at any other. But now what shall I do with myself? I don’t know how in the World to pass my time; wou’d Loveless were here to badiner a little! Well, he’s a charming Fellow, I don’t wonder his Wife’s so fond of him. What if I shou’d set down and think of him till I fall asleep, and dream of the Lord knows what? O, but then if I shou’d dream we were married, I shou’d be frighted out of my Wits. [Seeing a Book.] What’s this Book? I think I had best go read. O Splenetique! ’tis a Sermon. Well, I’ll go into my Closet, and read the Plotting Sisters. [She opens the Closet, sees Loveless, and shrieks out.] O Lord, a Ghost, a Ghost, a Ghost, a Ghost!
Enter Loveless running to her.
Lov. Peace, my Dear; it’s no Ghost, take it in your Arms, you’ll find ’tis worth a hundred of ’em.
Ber. Run in again; here’s somebody coming.
Enter Maid.
Maid. O Lord, Madam, what’s the matter?
Ber. O Heav’ns! I’m almost frighted out of my Wits. I thought verily I had seen a Ghost, and ’twas nothing but the white Curtain, with a black Hood pinn’d up against it; you may be gone again, I am the fearfullest Fool.—
[Exit Maid.
Re-enter Loveless.
Lov. Is the Coast clear?
Ber. The Coast clear! I suppose you are clear, you’d never play such a Trick as this else.
Lov. I am very well pleas’d with my Trick thus far, and shall be so till I have play’d it out, if it ben’t your Fault: where’s my Wife?
Ber. At Cards.
Lov. With whom?
Ber. With Worthy.
Lov. Then we are safe enough.
Ber. You are so! Some Husbands wou’d be of another mind, if he were at Cards with their Wives.
Lov. And they’d be in the right on’t too. But I dare trust mine:——Besides, I know he’s in love in another place, and he’s not one of those who court half a dozen at a time.
Ber. Nay, the truth on’t is, you’d pity him if you saw how uneasy he is at being engag’d with us; but ’twas my Malice. I fancy’d he was to meet his Mistress some where else, so did it to have the pleasure of seeing him fret.
Lov. What says Amanda to my staying abroad so late?
Ber. Why she’s as much out of Humour as he, I believe they wish one another at the Devil.
Lov. Then I’m afraid they’ll quarrel at Play, and soon throw up the Cards: [Offering in pull her into her Closet.] Therefore, my dear charming Angel, let us make good use of our time.
Ber. Heavens! what do you mean?
Lov. Pray what do you think I mean?
Ber. I don’t know.
Lov. I’ll shew you.
Ber. You may as well tell me.
Lov. No, that wou’d make you blush worse than t’other.
Ber. Why, do you intend to make me blush?
Lov. Faith, I can’t tell that; but if I do, it shall be in the dark.
[Pulling her.
Ber. O Heavens! I wou’d not be in the dark with you for all the World.
Lov. I’ll try that.
[Puts out the Candles.
Ber. O Lord! are you mad! What shall I do for Light?
Lov. You’ll do as well without it.
Ber. Why, one can’t find a Chair to sit down?
Lov. Come into the Closet, Madam, there’s Moonshine upon the Couch.
Ber. Nay, never pull, for I will not go.
Lov. Then you must be carried.
[Carrying her.
Ber. Help, help, I’m ravish’d, ruin’d, undone. O Lord, I shall never be able to bear it.
[Very softly.
Scene, Sir Tunbelly’s House
Enter Miss Hoyden, Nurse, Young Fashion, and Bull.
Young Fash. This quick dispatch of yours, Mr. Bull, I take so kindly, it shall give you a claim to my Favour as long as I live, I do assure you.
Miss. And to mine too, I promise you.
Bull. I most humbly thank your Honours; and I hope, since it has been my Lot to join you in the holy Bands of Wedlock, you will so well cultivate the Soil which I have crav’d a Blessing on, that your Children may swarm about you like Bees about a Honey-Comb.
Miss. I’cod with all my Heart, the more the merrier, I say; ha, Nurse.
Enter Lory, taking his Master hastily aside.
Lo. One Word with you, for Heaven’s sake.
Young Fash. What the Devil’s the matter?
Lo. Sir, your Fortune’s ruin’d, and I don’t think your Life’s worth a quarter of an Hour’s Purchase: Yonder’s your Brother arriv’d with two Coaches and six Horses, twenty Footmen and Pages, a Coat worth fourscore Pound, and a Perriwig down to his Knees: So judge what will become of your Lady’s Heart.
Young Fash. Death and Furies! ’tis impossible.
Lo. Fiends and Spectres! Sir, ’tis true.
Young Fash. Is he in the House yet?
Lo. No, they are capitulating with him at the Gate; the Porter tells him, he’s come to run away with Miss Hoyden, and has cock’d the Blunderbuss at him; your Brother swears Gad Damme, they are a parcel of Clawns, and he had a good mind to break off the Match; but they have given the Word for Sir Tunbelly, so I doubt all will come out presently. Pray, Sir, resolve what you’ll do this Moment, for I’gad they’ll maul you.
Young Fash. Stay a little. [To Miss.] My Dear, here’s a troublesome Business my Man tells me of; but don’t be frighten’d, we shall be too hard for the Rogue. Here’s an impudent Fellow at the Gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my Name upon him, in hopes to run away with you.
Miss. O the Brazen-fac’d Varlet, it’s well we are married, or may be we might never have been so.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I’gad, like enough: Pr’ythee, dear Doctor, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to the Gate, before I speak with him.
Bull. I fly, my good Lord——
[Exit Bull.
Nurse. An’t please your Honour, my Lady and I had best lock ourselves up till the Danger be over.
Young Fash. Ay, by all means.
Miss. Not so fast, I won’t be lock’d up any more. I’m marry’d.
Young Fash. Yes, pray my Dear do, till we have seiz’d this Rascal.
Miss. Nay, if you pray me, I’ll do any thing.
[Exeunt Miss and Nurse.
Young Fash. O! here’s Sir Tunbelly coming. [To Lo.] Hark you, Sirrah, things are better than you imagine; the Wedding’s over.
Lo. The Devil it is, Sir.
Young Fash. Not a Word, all’s safe: But Sir Tunbelly don’t know it, nor must not yet; so I am resolv’d to brazen the Business out, and have the Pleasure of turning the Impostor upon his Lordship, which I believe may easily be done.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, Chap. and Servants arm’d.
Young Fash. Did you ever hear, Sir, of so impudent an Undertaking?
Sir Tun. Never, by the Mass, but we’ll tickle him, I’ll warrant him.
Young Fash. They tell me, Sir, he has a great many People with him disguis’d like Servants.
Sir Tun. Ay, ay, Rogues enow; but I’ll soon raise the Posse upon ’em.
Young Fash. Sir, if you’ll take my Advice, we’ll go a shorter way to work; I find, whoever this Spark is, he knows nothing of my being privately here; so if you pretend to receive him civilly, he’ll enter without Suspicion; and as soon as he is within the Gate, we’ll whip up the Drawbridge upon his Back, let fly the Blunderbuss to disperse the Crew, and so commit him to Gaol.
Sir Tun. I’gad, your Lordship is an ingenious Person, and a very great General; but shall we kill any of ’em, or not?
Young Fash. No, no, fire over their Heads only to fright them; I’ll warrant the Regiment scours when the Colonel’s a Prisoner.
Sir Tun. Then come along, my Boys, and let your Courage be great——for your Danger is but small.
[Exeunt.
Scene, the Gate
Enter Lord Foppington and Followers.
Lord Fop. A Pax of these Bumkinly People, will they open the Gate, or do they desire I shou’d grow at their Moat-side like a Willow? [To the Porter.] Hey, Fellow—Pr’ythee do me the Favour, in as few words as thou canst find to express thyself, to tell me whether thy Master will admit me or not, that I may turn about my Coach, and be gone.
Por. Here’s my Master himself now at hand, he’s of Age, he’ll give you his Answer.
Enter Sir Tunbelly, and his Servants.
Sir Tun. My most noble Lord, I crave your pardon for making your Honour wait so long; but my Orders to my servants have been to admit no body without my Knowledge, for fear of some Attempts upon my Daughter, the Times being full of Plots and Roguery.
Lord Fop. Much Caution, I must confess, is a Sign of great Wisdom: But, stap my Vitals, I have got a Cold enough to destroy a Porter—He, hem—
Sir Tun. I am very sorry for’t, indeed, my Lord; but if your Lordship please to walk in, we’ll help you to some brown Sugar-Candy. My Lord, I’ll shew you the way.
Lord Fop. Sir, I follow you with pleasure.
[Exeunt.
[As Lord Foppington’s Servants go to follow him in, they clap the Door against La Varole.
Servants within. Nay, hold you me there, Sir.
La Var. Jernie, qu’est ce que veut dire ça?
Sir Tun. [Within.]——Fire, Porter.
Porter fires.——Have among you, my Masters.
La Var. Ah je suis mort—
[The servants all run off.
Port. Not one Soldier left, by the Mass.
Scene Changes Into a Hall
Enter Sir Tunbelly, the Chaplain and Servants, with Lord Foppington disarm’d.
Sir Tun. Come, bring him along, bring him along.
Lord Fop. What the Pax do you mean, Gentlemen, is it Fair time, that you are all drunk before Dinner?
Sir Tun. Drunk, Sirrah! Here’s an impudent Rogue for you! Drunk or Sober, Bully, I’m a Justice of the Peace, and know how to deal with Strolers.
Lord Fop. Strolers!
Sir Tun. Ay, Strolers; come, give an account of yourself; what’s your Name? where do you live? Do you pay Scot and Lot? Are you a Williamite, or a Jacobite? Come.
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 thee to ’em, is, that thou art a very extraordinary old Fellow; stap my Vitals—
Sir Tun. Nay, if you are for joaking with Deputy-Lieutenants, we know how to deal with you: Here, draw a Warrant for him immediately.
Lord Fop. A Warrant——what the Devil is’t thou wou’dst be at, old Gentleman?
Sir Tun. I wou’d be at you, Sirrah, (if my Hands were not ty’d as a Magistrate) and with these two double Fists beat your Teeth down your Throat, you Dog you.
Lord Fop. And why would’st thou spoil my Face at that rate?
Sir Tun. For your Design to rob me of my Daughter, Villain.
Lord Fop. Rab thee of thy Daughter——Now I do begin to believe I am a-bed and a-sleep, and that all this is but a Dream—If it be, ’twill be an agreeable Surprize enough, to waken by and by; and instead of the impertinent Company of a nasty Country Justice, find my self perhaps in the Arms of a Woman of Quality—[To Sir Tun.] Pr’ythee, old Father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one Question?
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, dear Dad, I thought we should understand one another at last.
Sir Tun. This Fellow’s mad——here bind him Hand and Foot.
[They bind him down.
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. [Aside.] I’gad, if I don’t waken quickly, by all that I can see, this is like to prove one of the most impertinent Dreams that ever I dreamt in my Life.
Enter Miss and Nurse. [Miss going up to him.]
Miss. Is this he that wou’d have run away with me? Fough, how he stinks of sweets! Pray, Father, let him be dragg’d through the Horse-Pond.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] This must be my Wife by her natural Inclination to her Husband.
Miss. 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. [Aside.] Madame la Governante, I presume, hitherto this appears to me to be one of the most extraordinary Families that ever Man of Quality match’d into.
Sir Tun. What’s become of my Lord, Daughter?
Miss. He’s just coming, Sir.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] My Lord——What does he mean by that now?
Enter Young Fashion and Lory.
Seeing him.] Stap my Vitals, Tam, now the Dream’s out.
Young Fash. Is this the Fellow, Sir, that design’d 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?
Young Fash. I find by his Dress, he thought your Daughter might be taken with a Beau.
Miss. O Gemini! Is this a Beau? let me see him again——ha! I find a Beau is no such ugly thing neither.
Young Fash. I’gad, she’ll be in love with him presently; I’ll e’en have him sent away to Gaol. [To Lord Fop.] Sir, tho’ your Undertaking shews you are a Person of no extraordinary Modesty, I suppose you han’t Confidence enough to expect much Favour from me.
Lord Fop. Strike me dumb, Tam, thou art a very impudent Fellow.
Nurse. Look if the Varlet has not the Frontery to call his Lordship plain Thomas.
Bull. The business is, he wou’d feign himself mad, to avoid going to Gaol.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That must be the Chaplain, by his unfolding of Mysteries.
Sir Tun. Come, is the Warrant writ?
Cler. Yes, Sir.
Sir Tun. Give me the Pen, I’ll sign it——So now, Constable, away with him.
Lord Fop. Hold one Moment——Pray, Gentlemen; my Lord Foppington, shall I beg one Word with your Lordship?
Nurse. O ho, it’s my Lord with him now; see how Afflictions will humble Folks.
Miss. Pray, my Lord, 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. [To Young Fash.] Look you, Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to you as I ought, but I hope you’ll forget what’s past, and accept of the five thousand Pounds I offer; thou may’st live in extreme Splendor with it; stap my Vitals.
Young Fash. It’s a much easier matter to prevent a Disease than to cure it; a quarter of that Sum would have secur’d your Mistress; twice as much won’t redeem her.
[Leaving him.
Sir Tun. Well, what says he?
Young Fash. Only the Rascal offer’d me a Bribe to let him go.
Sir Tun. Ay, he shall go, with a Pox to him: Lead on, Constable.
Lord Fop.. One word more, and I’ve done.
Sir Tun. Before Gad, thou art an impudent Fellow, to trouble the Court at this rate, after thou art condemned; but speak once for all.
Lord Fop. Why then once for all; I have at last luckily call’d to mind, that there is a Gentleman of this Country, who I believe cannot live far from this place, if he were here, would satisfy you, I am Novelty, Baron of Foppington, with five thousand Pounds a year, and that Fellow there a Rascal, not worth a Groat.
Sir Tun. Very well; now who is this honest Gentleman you are so well acquainted with. [To Young Fash.] Come, Sir, we shall hamper him.
Lord Fop. ’Tis Sir John Friendly.
Sir Tun. So, he lives within half a Mile, and came down into the Country but last Night; this bold-fac’d Fellow thought he had been at London still, and so quoted him; now we shall display him in his Colours: I’ll send for Sir John immediately. Here, Fellow, away presently; and desire my Neighbour he’ll do me the favour to step over, upon an extraordinary Occasion; and in the mean while you had best secure this Sharper in the Gate-House.
Const. An’t please your Worship, he may chance to give us the Slip thence: If I were worthy to advise, I think the Dog-kennel’s a surer Place.
Sir Tun. With all my heart, anywhere.
Lord Fop. Nay, for Heaven’s sake, Sir, do me the favour to put me in a clean Room, that I mayn’t daub my Clothes.
Sir Tun. O when you have married my Daughter, her Estate will afford you new ones: Away with him.
Lord Fop. A dirty Country Justice is a barbarous Magistrate, stap my Vitals——
[Exit Constable with Lord Foppington.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I gad I must prevent this Knight’s coming, or the House will grow soon too hot to hold me.
To Sir Tun.] Sir, I fancy ’tis not worth while to trouble Sir John upon this impertinent Fellow’s Desire: I’ll send and call the Messenger back——
Sir Tun. Nay, with all my heart; for to be sure he thought he was far enough off, or the Rogue wou’d never have nam’d him.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Sir, I met Sir John just lighting at the Gate; he’s come to wait upon you.
Sir Tun. Nay, then it happens as one cou’d wish.
Young Fash. [Aside.] The Devil it does! Lory, you see how things are, here will be a Discovery presently, and we shall have our Brains beat out: For my Brother will be sure to swear he don’t know me: Therefore run into the Stable, take the two first Horses you can light on, I’ll slip out at the Back-Door, and we’ll away immediately.
Lo. What, and leave your Lady, Sir?
Young Fash. There’s no Danger in that, as long as I have taken possession; I shall know how to treat with them well enough, if once I am out of their reach. Away, I’ll steal after thee.
[Exit Lory, his Master follows him out at one Door, as Sir John enters at t’other.
Enter Sir John.
Sir Tun. Sir John, you are the welcom’st Man alive; I had just sent a Messenger to desire you’d step over, upon a very extraordinary Occasion—we are all in Arms here.
Sir John. How so?
Sir Tun. Why, you must know——a sinical sort of a tawdry Fellow here (I don’t know who the Devil he is, not I) hearing, I suppose, that the Match was concluded between my Lord Foppington and my Girl Hoyden, comes impudently to the Gate, and with a whole Pack of Rogues in Liveries, wou’d have pass’d upon me for his Lordship: But what does I? I comes up to him boldly at the Head of his Guards, takes him by the Throat, strikes up his Heels, binds him Hand and Foot, dispatches a Warrant, and commits him Prisoner to the Dog-kennel.
Sir John. So, but how do you know but this was my Lord? for I was told he set out from London the Day before me, with a very fine Retinue, and intended to come directly hither.
Sir Tun. Why now to shew you how many Lies People raise in that damn’d Town, he came two Nights ago Post, with only one Servant, and is now in the House with me: But you don’t know the Cream of the Jest yet; this same Rogue, (that lies yonder Neck and Heels among the Hounds) thinking you were out of the Country, quotes you for his Acquaintance, and said, if you were here, you’d justify him to be Lord Foppington, and I know not what.
Sir John. Pray will you let me see him?
Sir Tun. Ay, that you shall presently——here, fetch the Prisoner.
[Exit Servant.
Sir John. I wish there ben’t some Mistake in the Business, where’s my Lord? I know him very well.
Sir Tun. He was here just now; see for him, Doctor, tell him Sir John is here to wait upon him.
[Ex. Chaplain.
Sir John. I hope, Sir Tunbelly, the young Lady is not married yet.
Sir Tun. No, things won’t be ready this Week; but why do you say, you hope she is not married?
Sir John. Some foolish Fancies only, perhaps I’m mistaken.
Re-enter Chaplain.
Bull. Sir, his Lordship is just rid out to take the Air.
Sir Tun. To take the Air! Is that his London Breeding, to go to take the Air, when Gentlemen come to visit him?
Sir John. ’Tis possible he might want it, he might not be well, some sudden Qualm perhaps.
Enter Constable, &c. with Lord Foppington.
Lord Fop. Stap my Vitals, I’ll have Satisfaction.
Sir John. [Running to him.] My dear Lord Foppington!
Lord Fop. Dear Friendly, thou art come in the critical Minute, strike me dumb.
Sir John. Why, I little thought to have found you in Fetters.
Lord Fop. Why truly the World must do me the justice to confess, I do use to appear, a little more degagé: But this old Gentleman, not liking the Freedom of my Air, has been pleased to skewer down my Arms like a Rabbit.
Sir Tun. Is it then possible that this shou’d be the true Lord Foppington at last?
Lord Fop. Why what do you see in his Face to make you doubt of it? Sir, without presuming to have any extraordinary Opinion of my Figure, give me leave to tell you, if you had seen as many Lords as I have done, you would not think it impossible a Person of a worse Taille than mine, might be a modern Man of Quality.
Sir Tun. Unbind him, Slaves: my Lord, I’m struck dumb, I can only beg Pardon by Signs; but if a Sacrifice will appease you, you shall have it. Here, pursue this Tartar, bring him back——Away, I say, a Dog, Oons——I’ll cut off his Ears and his Tail, I’ll draw out all his Teeth, pull his skin over his Head——and——what shall I do more?
Sir John. He does indeed deserve to be made an Example of.
Lord Fop. He does deserve to be chartrè, stap my Vitals.
Sir Tun. May I then hope I have your Honour’s Pardon?
Lord Fop. Sir, we Courtiers do nothing without a Bribe; that fair young Lady might do Miracles.
Sir Tun. Hoyden, come hither, Hoyden.
Lord Fop. Hoyden is her Name, Sir?
Sir Tun. Yes, my Lord.
Lord Fop. The prettiest Name for a Song I ever heard.
Sir Tun. My Lord——here’s my Girl, she’s yours, she has a wholesome Body, and virtuous Mind; she’s a Woman complete, both in Flesh and in Spirit; she has a Bag of mill’d Crowns, as scarce as they are, and fifteen hundred a-year flitch’d fast to her Tail: so go thy ways, Hoyden.
Lord Fop. Sir, I do receive her like a Gentleman.
Sir Tun. Then I’m a happy Man, I bless Heaven, and if your Lordship will give me leave, I will, like a good Christian at Christmas, be very drunk by way of Thanksgiving. Come, my noble Peer, I believe Dinner’s ready; if your Honour pleases to follow me, I’ll lead you on to the Attack of a Venison Pasty.
[Exit Sir Tun.
Lord Fop. Sir, I wait upon you: Will your Ladyship do me the favour of your little Finger, Madam?
Miss. My Lord, I’ll follow you presently. I have a little Business with my Nurse.
Lord Fop. Your Ladyship’s most humble Servant; come, Sir John, the Ladies have des Affaires.
[Exeunt Lord Fop. and Sir John.
Miss. So, Nurse, we are finely brought to bed! What shall we do now?
Nurse. Ah, dear Miss, we are all undone! Mr. Bull, you were us’d to help a Woman to a Remedy.
[Crying.
Bull. A lack a-day, but it’s past my Skill now, I can do nothing.
Nurse. Who wou’d have thought that ever your Invention shou’d have been drain’d so dry?
Miss. Well, I have often thought old Folks Fools, and now I’m sure they are so; I have found a way myself to secure us all.
Nurse. Dear Lady, what’s that?
Miss. Why, if you two will be sure to hold your Tongues, and not say a word of what’s past, I’ll e’en marry this Lord too.
Nurse. What! two Husbands, my Dear?
Miss. Why you had three, good Nurse, you may hold your Tongue.
Nurse. Ay, but not all together, sweet Child.
Miss. Psha, if you had, you’d ne’er thought much on’t.
Nurse. O but ’tis a Sin—Sweeting.
Bull. Nay, that’s my business to speak to, Nurse. I do confess, to take two Husbands for the Satisfaction of the Flesh, is to commit the Sin of Exorbitancy; but to do it for the Peace of the Spirit, is no more than to be drunk by way of Physick: Besides, to prevent a Parent’s Wrath, is to avoid the Sin of Disobedience; for when the Parent’s angry the Child is froward. So that upon the whole Matter, I do think, tho’ Miss shou’d marry again, she may be sav’d.
Miss. I’cod, and I will marry again then, and so there is an end of the Story.
[Exeunt.