ACT III.SCENE I.—LORD FOPPINGTON’sLodgings. EnterLORD FOPPINGTON,andLA VAROLE.LORD FOPPINGTON.Hey, fellow, let thyvis-à-viscome to the door.LA VAROLE.Will your lordship venture so soon to expose yourself to the weather?LORD FOPPINGTON.Sir, I will venture as soon as I can expose myself to the ladies.LA VAROLE.I wish your lordship would please to keep house a little longer; I’m afraid your honour does not well consider your wound.LORD FOPPINGTON.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 VAROLE.I will be sure, milor. [Exit.]EnterTOM FASHION.TOM FASHION.Brother, your servant; how do you find yourself today?LORD FOPPINGTON.So well that I have ardered my coach to the door—so there’s no danger of death this baut, Tam.TOM FASHION.I’m very glad of it.LORD FOPPINGTON.[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?TOM FASHION.Why do you think it should?LORD FOPPINGTON.Because I remember mine did so when I heard my uncle was shot through the head.TOM FASHION.It, then, did very ill.LORD FOPPINGTON.Pr’ythee, why so?TOM FASHION.Because he used you very well.LORD FOPPINGTON.Well!—Naw, strike me dumb! he starved me; he has let me want a thausand women for want of a thausand paund.TOM FASHION.Then he hindered you from making a great many ill bargains; for I think no woman worth money that will take money.LORD FOPPINGTON.If I was a younger brother I should think so too.TOM FASHION.Then you are seldom much in love?LORD FOPPINGTON.Never, stap my vitals!TOM FASHION.Why, then, did you make all this bustle about Amanda?LORD FOPPINGTON.Because she’s a woman of insolent virtue, and I thought myself piqued in honour to debauch her.TOM FASHION.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 FOPPINGTON.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.TOM FASHION.I’m sorry you think so.LORD FOPPINGTON.I do believe thou art: but, come, let’s know the affair quickly.TOM FASHION.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 FOPPINGTON.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.TOM FASHION.I’m glad to see you are in so pleasant a humour; I hope I shall find the effects on’t.LORD FOPPINGTON.Why, do you then really think it a reasonable thing, that I should give you five hundred paunds?TOM FASHION.I do not ask it as a due, brother; I am willing to receive it as a favour.LORD FOPPINGTON.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.TOM FASHION.If you can’t I must starve, that’s all.—[Aside.] Damn him!LORD FOPPINGTON.All I can say is, you should have been a better husband.TOM FASHION.Ouns! if you can’t live upon ten thousand a year, how do you think I should do’t upon two hundred?LORD FOPPINGTON.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.TOM FASHION.Yes—she has made you older.—[Aside.] Plague take her.LORD FOPPINGTON.That is not all, Tam.TOM FASHION.Why, what is there else?LORD FOPPINGTON.[Looks first on himself and then on his brother.] Ask the ladies.TOM FASHION.Why, thou essence-bottle, thou musk-cat! dost thou then think thou hast any advantage over me but what Fortune has given thee?LORD FOPPINGTON.I do, stap my vitals!TOM FASHION.Now, by all that’s great and powerful, thou art the prince of coxcombs!LORD FOPPINGTON.Sir, I am proud at being at the head of so prevailing a party.TOM FASHION.Will nothing provoke thee?—Draw, coward!LORD FOPPINGTON.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.]TOM FASHION.So! farewell, brother; and now, conscience, I defy thee. Lory!EnterLORY.LORY.Sir!TOM FASHION.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.TOM FASHION.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?TOM FASHION.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 behindLOVELESS’SLodgings. EnterLOVELESSandSERVANT.LOVELESS.Is my wife within?SERVANT.No, sir, she has gone out this half-hour.LOVELESS.Well, leave me.—[ExitSERVANT.] 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.EnterBERINTHIA.BERINTHIA.What makes you look so thoughtful, sir? I hope you are not ill.LOVELESS.I was debating, madam, whether I was so or not, and that was it which made me look so thoughtful.BERINTHIA.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.LOVELESS.What if the distemper I suspect be in the mind?BERINTHIA.Why then I’ll undertake to prescribe you a cure.LOVELESS.Alas! you undertake you know not what.BERINTHIA.So far at least, then, you allow me to be a physician.LOVELESS.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.BERINTHIA.How?LOVELESS.Oh, you might betray me to my wife.BERINTHIA.And so lose all my practice.LOVELESS.Will you then keep my secret?BERINTHIA.I will.LOVELESS.Well—but swear it.BERINTHIA.I swear by woman.LOVELESS.Nay, that’s swearing by my deity; swear by your own, and I shall believe you.BERINTHIA.Well then, I swear by man!LOVELESS.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.]BERINTHIA.O Lord, let me go! ’tis the plague, and we shall be infected. [Breaking from him.]LOVELESS.Then we’ll die together, my charming angel.BERINTHIA.O Gad! the devil’s in you! Lord, let me go!—here’s somebody coming.Re-enterSERVANT.SERVANT.Sir, my lady’s come home, and desires to speak with you.LOVELESS.Tell her I’m coming.—[ExitSERVANT.] But before I go, one glass of nectar to drink her health. [ToBERINTHIA.]BERINTHIA.Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!LOVELESS.[Kissing her.] In matters of love, a woman’s oath is no more to be minded than a man’s. [Exit.]BERINTHIA.Um!EnterCOLONEL TOWNLY.COLONEL TOWNLY.[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.BERINTHIA.No better than I used to have, I suppose.COLONEL TOWNLY.A little more blood in your cheeks.BERINTHIA.I have been walking!COLONEL TOWNLY.Is that all? Pray was it Mr. Loveless went from here just now?BERINTHIA.O yes—he has been walking with me.COLONEL TOWNLY.He has!BERINTHIA.Upon my word I think he is a very agreeable man; and there is certainly something particularly insinuating in his address.COLONEL TOWNLY.[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?BERINTHIA.As many as you please; but pray let them be as little serious as possible.COLONEL TOWNLY.Is it not near two years since I have presumed to address you?BERINTHIA.I don’t know exactly—but it has been a tedious long time.COLONEL TOWNLY.Have I not, during that period, had every reason to believe that my assiduities were far from being unacceptable?BERINTHIA.Why, to do you justice, you have been extremely troublesome—and I confess I have been more civil to you than you deserved.COLONEL TOWNLY.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?BERINTHIA.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?COLONEL TOWNLY.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.BERINTHIA.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!COLONEL TOWNLY.[Aside.]’Sdeath! how came she to suspect this!—[Aloud.] Really, madam, I don’t understand you.BERINTHIA.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.COLONEL TOWNLY.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.EnterAMANDA. COLONEL TOWNLYwhispersAMANDA,and exit.BERINTHIA.[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.AMANDA.Fy, Berinthia!—my admirer! will you never learn to talk in earnest of anything?BERINTHIA.Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only tell you matter of fact.AMANDA.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.BERINTHIA.And so you are jealous; is that all?AMANDA.That all! is jealousy, then, nothing?BERINTHIA.It should be nothing, if I were in your case.AMANDA.Why, what would you do?BERINTHIA.I’d cure myself.AMANDA.How?BERINTHIA.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.AMANDA.Do you then really think he’s false to me? for I did not suspect him.BERINTHIA.Think so? I am sure of it.AMANDA.You are sure on’t?BERINTHIA.Positively—he fell in love at the play.AMANDA.Right—the very same. But who could have told you this?BERINTHIA.Um!—Oh, Townly! I suppose your husband has made him his confidant.AMANDA.O base Loveless! And what did Townly say on’t?BERINTHIA.[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.AMANDA.Did he?—Oh! my heart!—I’m very ill—dear Berinthia, don’t leave me a moment. [Exeunt.]SCENE III.—Outside ofSIR TUNRELLY CLUMSY’SHouse.EnterTOM FASHIONandLORY.TOM FASHION.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.TOM FASHION.Get but the house, let the devil take the heiress! I say.—But come, we have no time to squander; knock at the door.—[LORYknocks 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.]TOM FASHION.Hush, they come.SERVANT.[Within.] Who is there?LORY.Open the door and see: is that your country breeding?SERVANT.Ay, but two words to that bargain.—Tummus, is the blunderbuss primed?TOM FASHION.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? SERVANTappears at the window with a blunderbuss.SERVANT.Well naw, what’s ya’re business?TOM FASHION.Nothing, sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with your leave.SERVANT.To weat upon Sir Tunbelly! why, you’ll find that’s just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.TOM FASHION.But will you do me the favour, sir, to know whether Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?SERVANT.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.TOM FASHION.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!TOM FASHION.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 TUNBELLY CLUMSY.Who is it here hath any business with me?TOM FASHION.Sir, ’tis I, if your name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.TOM FASHION.Sir, you have no cause that I know of.SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.TOM FASHION.Sir, I hope you’ll find this letter an authentic passport. [Gives him a letter.]SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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?TOM FASHION.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 TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.TOM FASHION.Sir, I am not a stranger to them, though I am to her; common fame has done her justice.SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.TOM FASHION.Sir, I wait upon you. [Exeunt.]SCENE IV.—A Room inSIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY’SHouse. MISS HOYDENdiscovered alone.MISS HOYDEN.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!EnterNURSE.MISS HOYDEN.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 HOYDEN.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 HOYDEN.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 tonight.MISS HOYDEN.My lord: why, is my husband come?NURSE.Yes, marry, is he; and a goodly person too.MISS HOYDEN.[HugsNURSE.] 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 HOYDEN.But, my dear nurse, don’t lie now—is he come, by your troth?NURSE.Yes, by my truly, is he.MISS HOYDEN.O Lord! I’ll go and put on my laced tucker, though I’m locked up for a month for’t. [Exeunt.MISS HOYDENgoes off capering, and twirling her doll by its leg.]
LORD FOPPINGTON.Hey, fellow, let thyvis-à-viscome to the door.
LA VAROLE.Will your lordship venture so soon to expose yourself to the weather?
LORD FOPPINGTON.Sir, I will venture as soon as I can expose myself to the ladies.
LA VAROLE.I wish your lordship would please to keep house a little longer; I’m afraid your honour does not well consider your wound.
LORD FOPPINGTON.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 VAROLE.I will be sure, milor. [Exit.]
EnterTOM FASHION.
TOM FASHION.Brother, your servant; how do you find yourself today?
LORD FOPPINGTON.So well that I have ardered my coach to the door—so there’s no danger of death this baut, Tam.
TOM FASHION.I’m very glad of it.
LORD FOPPINGTON.[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?
TOM FASHION.Why do you think it should?
LORD FOPPINGTON.Because I remember mine did so when I heard my uncle was shot through the head.
TOM FASHION.It, then, did very ill.
LORD FOPPINGTON.Pr’ythee, why so?
TOM FASHION.Because he used you very well.
LORD FOPPINGTON.Well!—Naw, strike me dumb! he starved me; he has let me want a thausand women for want of a thausand paund.
TOM FASHION.Then he hindered you from making a great many ill bargains; for I think no woman worth money that will take money.
LORD FOPPINGTON.If I was a younger brother I should think so too.
TOM FASHION.Then you are seldom much in love?
LORD FOPPINGTON.Never, stap my vitals!
TOM FASHION.Why, then, did you make all this bustle about Amanda?
LORD FOPPINGTON.Because she’s a woman of insolent virtue, and I thought myself piqued in honour to debauch her.
TOM FASHION.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 FOPPINGTON.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.
TOM FASHION.I’m sorry you think so.
LORD FOPPINGTON.I do believe thou art: but, come, let’s know the affair quickly.
TOM FASHION.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 FOPPINGTON.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.
TOM FASHION.I’m glad to see you are in so pleasant a humour; I hope I shall find the effects on’t.
LORD FOPPINGTON.Why, do you then really think it a reasonable thing, that I should give you five hundred paunds?
TOM FASHION.I do not ask it as a due, brother; I am willing to receive it as a favour.
LORD FOPPINGTON.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.
TOM FASHION.If you can’t I must starve, that’s all.—[Aside.] Damn him!
LORD FOPPINGTON.All I can say is, you should have been a better husband.
TOM FASHION.Ouns! if you can’t live upon ten thousand a year, how do you think I should do’t upon two hundred?
LORD FOPPINGTON.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.
TOM FASHION.Yes—she has made you older.—[Aside.] Plague take her.
LORD FOPPINGTON.That is not all, Tam.
TOM FASHION.Why, what is there else?
LORD FOPPINGTON.[Looks first on himself and then on his brother.] Ask the ladies.
TOM FASHION.Why, thou essence-bottle, thou musk-cat! dost thou then think thou hast any advantage over me but what Fortune has given thee?
LORD FOPPINGTON.I do, stap my vitals!
TOM FASHION.Now, by all that’s great and powerful, thou art the prince of coxcombs!
LORD FOPPINGTON.Sir, I am proud at being at the head of so prevailing a party.
TOM FASHION.Will nothing provoke thee?—Draw, coward!
LORD FOPPINGTON.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.]
TOM FASHION.So! farewell, brother; and now, conscience, I defy thee. Lory!
EnterLORY.
LORY.Sir!
TOM FASHION.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.
TOM FASHION.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?
TOM FASHION.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.]
LOVELESS.Is my wife within?
SERVANT.No, sir, she has gone out this half-hour.
LOVELESS.Well, leave me.—[ExitSERVANT.] 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.
EnterBERINTHIA.
BERINTHIA.What makes you look so thoughtful, sir? I hope you are not ill.
LOVELESS.I was debating, madam, whether I was so or not, and that was it which made me look so thoughtful.
BERINTHIA.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.
LOVELESS.What if the distemper I suspect be in the mind?
BERINTHIA.Why then I’ll undertake to prescribe you a cure.
LOVELESS.Alas! you undertake you know not what.
BERINTHIA.So far at least, then, you allow me to be a physician.
LOVELESS.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.
BERINTHIA.How?
LOVELESS.Oh, you might betray me to my wife.
BERINTHIA.And so lose all my practice.
LOVELESS.Will you then keep my secret?
BERINTHIA.I will.
LOVELESS.Well—but swear it.
BERINTHIA.I swear by woman.
LOVELESS.Nay, that’s swearing by my deity; swear by your own, and I shall believe you.
BERINTHIA.Well then, I swear by man!
LOVELESS.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.]
BERINTHIA.O Lord, let me go! ’tis the plague, and we shall be infected. [Breaking from him.]
LOVELESS.Then we’ll die together, my charming angel.
BERINTHIA.O Gad! the devil’s in you! Lord, let me go!—here’s somebody coming.
Re-enterSERVANT.
SERVANT.Sir, my lady’s come home, and desires to speak with you.
LOVELESS.Tell her I’m coming.—[ExitSERVANT.] But before I go, one glass of nectar to drink her health. [ToBERINTHIA.]
BERINTHIA.Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!
LOVELESS.[Kissing her.] In matters of love, a woman’s oath is no more to be minded than a man’s. [Exit.]
BERINTHIA.Um!
EnterCOLONEL TOWNLY.
COLONEL TOWNLY.[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.
BERINTHIA.No better than I used to have, I suppose.
COLONEL TOWNLY.A little more blood in your cheeks.
BERINTHIA.I have been walking!
COLONEL TOWNLY.Is that all? Pray was it Mr. Loveless went from here just now?
BERINTHIA.O yes—he has been walking with me.
COLONEL TOWNLY.He has!
BERINTHIA.Upon my word I think he is a very agreeable man; and there is certainly something particularly insinuating in his address.
COLONEL TOWNLY.[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?
BERINTHIA.As many as you please; but pray let them be as little serious as possible.
COLONEL TOWNLY.Is it not near two years since I have presumed to address you?
BERINTHIA.I don’t know exactly—but it has been a tedious long time.
COLONEL TOWNLY.Have I not, during that period, had every reason to believe that my assiduities were far from being unacceptable?
BERINTHIA.Why, to do you justice, you have been extremely troublesome—and I confess I have been more civil to you than you deserved.
COLONEL TOWNLY.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?
BERINTHIA.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?
COLONEL TOWNLY.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.
BERINTHIA.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!
COLONEL TOWNLY.[Aside.]’Sdeath! how came she to suspect this!—[Aloud.] Really, madam, I don’t understand you.
BERINTHIA.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.
COLONEL TOWNLY.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.
EnterAMANDA. COLONEL TOWNLYwhispersAMANDA,and exit.
BERINTHIA.[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.
AMANDA.Fy, Berinthia!—my admirer! will you never learn to talk in earnest of anything?
BERINTHIA.Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only tell you matter of fact.
AMANDA.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.
BERINTHIA.And so you are jealous; is that all?
AMANDA.That all! is jealousy, then, nothing?
BERINTHIA.It should be nothing, if I were in your case.
AMANDA.Why, what would you do?
BERINTHIA.I’d cure myself.
AMANDA.How?
BERINTHIA.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.
AMANDA.Do you then really think he’s false to me? for I did not suspect him.
BERINTHIA.Think so? I am sure of it.
AMANDA.You are sure on’t?
BERINTHIA.Positively—he fell in love at the play.
AMANDA.Right—the very same. But who could have told you this?
BERINTHIA.Um!—Oh, Townly! I suppose your husband has made him his confidant.
AMANDA.O base Loveless! And what did Townly say on’t?
BERINTHIA.[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.
AMANDA.Did he?—Oh! my heart!—I’m very ill—dear Berinthia, don’t leave me a moment. [Exeunt.]
EnterTOM FASHIONandLORY.
TOM FASHION.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.
TOM FASHION.Get but the house, let the devil take the heiress! I say.—But come, we have no time to squander; knock at the door.—[LORYknocks 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.]
TOM FASHION.Hush, they come.
SERVANT.[Within.] Who is there?
LORY.Open the door and see: is that your country breeding?
SERVANT.Ay, but two words to that bargain.—Tummus, is the blunderbuss primed?
TOM FASHION.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? SERVANTappears at the window with a blunderbuss.
SERVANT.Well naw, what’s ya’re business?
TOM FASHION.Nothing, sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with your leave.
SERVANT.To weat upon Sir Tunbelly! why, you’ll find that’s just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.
TOM FASHION.But will you do me the favour, sir, to know whether Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?
SERVANT.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.
TOM FASHION.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!
TOM FASHION.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 TUNBELLY CLUMSY.Who is it here hath any business with me?
TOM FASHION.Sir, ’tis I, if your name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.
TOM FASHION.Sir, you have no cause that I know of.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.
TOM FASHION.Sir, I hope you’ll find this letter an authentic passport. [Gives him a letter.]
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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?
TOM FASHION.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 TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.
TOM FASHION.Sir, I am not a stranger to them, though I am to her; common fame has done her justice.
SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY.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.
TOM FASHION.Sir, I wait upon you. [Exeunt.]
MISS HOYDEN.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!
EnterNURSE.
MISS HOYDEN.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 HOYDEN.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 HOYDEN.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 tonight.
MISS HOYDEN.My lord: why, is my husband come?
NURSE.Yes, marry, is he; and a goodly person too.
MISS HOYDEN.[HugsNURSE.] 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 HOYDEN.But, my dear nurse, don’t lie now—is he come, by your troth?
NURSE.Yes, by my truly, is he.
MISS HOYDEN.O Lord! I’ll go and put on my laced tucker, though I’m locked up for a month for’t. [Exeunt.MISS HOYDENgoes off capering, and twirling her doll by its leg.]