ACT THE THIRD.

Ld. H.My placing there?

Cam.Why, my lord, all the fine things you've said to me in the camp of my Lady Sharlot, your father's ward, ran in my head so very much, that I made it my businessto become acquainted in that family, which I did by Mr. Cabinet's means, and am now in love in the same place with your lordship.

Ld. H.How? in love in the same place with me, Mr. Campley?

Cam.Ay, my lord, with t'other sister—with t'other sister.

Ld. H.What a dunce was I, not to know which, without your naming her! Why, thou art the only man breathing fit to deal with her. But my Lady Sharlot, there's a woman—so easily virtuous! So agreeably severe! Her motion so unaffected, yet so composed! Her lips breathe nothing but truth, good sense, and flowing wit.

Cam.Lady Harriot! there's the woman; such life, such spirit, such warmth in her eyes; such a lively commanding air in her glances; so spritely a mien, that carries in it the triumph of conscious beauty; her lips are made of gum and balm. There's something in that dear girl that fires my blood above—above—above——

Ld. H.Above what?

Cam.A grenadier's march.

Ld. H.A soft simile, I must confess! but oh that Sharlot! to recline this aching head, full of care, on that tender, snowy—faithful bosom!

Cam.O that Harriot! to embrace that beauteous[20]——

Ld. H.Ay, Tom; but methinks your head runs too much on the wedding night only, to make your happiness lasting; mine is fixed on the married state. I expect my felicity from Lady Sharlot, in her friendship, her constancy, her piety, her household cares, hermaternal tenderness. You think not of any excellence of your mistress that is more than skin-deep——

Cam.When I know her further than skin-deep I'll tell you more of my mind.

Ld. H.O fie, Tom, how can you talk so lightly of a woman you love with honour.—But tell me, I wonder how you make your approaches in besieging such a sort of creature—she that loves addresses, gallantry, fiddles; that reigns and delights in a crowd of admirers. If I know her, she is one of those you may easily have a general acquaintance with, but hard to make particular.

Cam.You understand her very well. You must know I put her out of all her play by carrying it in a humourous manner. I took care in all my actions, before I discovered the lover, that she should in general have a good opinion of me; and have ever since behaved myself with all the good humour and ease I was able; so that she is now extremely at a loss how to throw me from the familiarity of an acquaintance into the distance of a lover; but I laugh her out of it. When she begins to frown and look grave at my mirth, I mimic her till she bursts out a-laughing.

Ld. H.That's ridiculous enough.

Cam.By Cabinet's interest over my Lady Brumpton, with gold and flattery to Mrs. Fardingale, an old maid her ladyship has placed about the young ladies, I have easy access at all times, and am this very day to be admitted by her into their apartment. I have found, you must know, that she is my relation.

Ld. H.Her ladyship has chose an odd companion for young ladies.

Cam.Oh, my lady's a politician. She told Tattleaid one day, that an old maid was the best guard for young ones, for they, like eunuchs in a seraglio, are vigilant out of envy of enjoyments they cannot themselves arrive at. But, as I was saying, I've sent my cousin Fardingale asong, which she and I are to practise to the spinet. The young ladies will be by; and I am to be left alone with Lady Harriot; then I design to make my grand attack, and to-day win or lose her. I know, sir, this is an opportunity you want. If you'll meet me at Tom's,[21]have a letter ready, I'll myself deliver it to your mistress, conduct you into the house, and tell her you are there—and find means to place you together. You must march under my command to-day, as I have many a one under yours.

Ld. H.But 'faith, Tom, I shall not behave myself with half the resolution you have under mine, for to confess my weakness, though I know she loves me, though I know she is as steadfastly mine as her heart can make her; I know not how, I have so sublime an idea of her high value, and such a melting tenderness dissolves my whole frame when I am near her, that my tongue falters, my nerves shake, and my heart so alternately sinks and rises, that my premeditated resolves vanish into confusion, down-cast eyes, and broken utterance——

Cam.Ha! ha! ha! this in a campaigner too! Why, my lord, that's the condition Harriot would have me in, and then she thinks she could have me; but I, that know her better than she does herself, know she'd insult me, and lead me a two years' dance longer, and perhaps in the end turn me into the herd of the many neglected men of better sense, who have been ridiculous for her sake. But I shall make her no such sacrifice. 'Tis well my Lady Sharlot's a woman of so solid an understanding; I don't know another that would not use you ill for your high value.

Ld. H.But, Tom, I must see your song you've sent your cousin Fardingale, as you call her.

Cam.This is lucky enough [Aside]. No; hang it, mylord, a man makes so silly a figure when his verses are reading. Trim—thou hast not left off thy loving and thy rhyming; Trim's a critic, I remember him a servitor at Oxon [Gives a paper toTrim]. I give myself into his hands, because you shan't see 'em till I'm gone. My lord, your servant, you shan't stir.

Ld. H.Nor you neither then. [Struggling.]

Cam.You will be obeyed. [Exeunt.Lord Hardywaits on him down.

Trim.What's in this song? Ha! don't my eyes deceive me—a bill of three hundred pounds——

"Mr. Cash,"Pray pay to Mr. William Trim, or bearer, the sum of three hundred pounds, and place it to the account of,"Sir,"Your humble servant,"Thomas Campley."

"Mr. Cash,

"Pray pay to Mr. William Trim, or bearer, the sum of three hundred pounds, and place it to the account of,

"Sir,

"Your humble servant,

"Thomas Campley."

[Pulling off his hat and bowing.] Your very humble servant, good Mr. Campley. Ay, this is poetry—this is a song indeed! Faith, I'll set it, and sing it myself. Pray pay to Mr. William Trim—so far in recitativo—three hundred [singing ridiculously]—hun—dred—hundred—hundred thrice repeated, because 'tis three hundred pounds—I love repetitions in music, when there's a good reason for it,—po—unds after the Italian manner. If they'd bring me such sensible words as these, I'd outstrip all your composers for the music prize. This was honestly done of Mr. Campley, though I have carried him many a purse from my master when he was ensign to our Company in Flanders——

EnterLord Hardy.

My lord, I am your lordship's humble servant.

Ld. H.Sir, your humble servant. But pray, my goodfamiliar friend, how come you to be so very much my humble servant all of a sudden?

Trim.I beg pardon, dear sir, my lord, I am not your humble servant.

Ld. H.No!

Trim.Yes, my lord, I am, but not as you mean; but I am—I am, my lord—in short, I'm overjoyed.

Ld. H.Overjoyed! thou'rt distracted, what ails the fellow? Where's Campley's song?

Trim.Oh! my lord, one would not think 'twas in him. Mr. Campley's really a very great poet; as for the song, 'tis only as they all end in rhyme: Ow—woe—isses—kisses—boy—joy. But, my lord, the other in long heroic blank verse.

[Reading it with a great tone.

Pray pay to Mr. William Trim, or order, the sum of—How sweetly it runs! Pactolian guineas chink every line.

Ld. H.How very handsomely this was done in Campley! I wondered, indeed, he was so willing to show his verses. In how careless a manner that fellow does the greatest actions!

Trim.My lord, pray my lord, shan't I go immediately to Cutpurse's?

Ld. H.No, sirrah, now we have no occasion for it.

Trim.No, my lord, only to stare him full in the face after I have received this money, not say a word, but keep my hat on, and walk out. Or perhaps not hear, if any I meet with speak to me, but grow stiff, deaf, and shortsighted to all my old acquaintance, like a sudden rich man as I am. Or, perhaps, my lord, desire Cutpurse's clerk to let me leave fifty pounds at their house, payable to Mr. William Trim, or order, till I come that way, or, a month or two hence, may have occasion for it: I don't know what bills may be drawn upon me. Then when the clerk begins to stare at me, till he pulls thegreat goose-quill from behind his ear [Pulls a handfull of farthings out] I fall a-reckoning the pieces as I do these farthings.

Ld. H.Well, sirrah, you may have your humour, but be sure you take four score pounds, and pay my debts immediately. If you meet any officer you ever see me in company with, that looks grave at Cutpurse's house, tell him I'd speak with him: We must help our friends. But learn moderation, you rogue, in your good fortune; be at home all the evening after, while I wait at Tom's to meet Campley, in order to see Lady Sharlot.

My good or ill in her alone is found,And in that thought all other cares are drowned.[Exeunt.

EnterSable, Lord BrumptonandTrusty.

Sab.Why, my lord, you can't in conscience put me off so. I must do according to my orders, cut you up, and embalm you, except you'll come down a little deeper than you talk of; you don't consider the charges I have been at already.

Ld. B.Charges! for what?

Sab.First, twenty guineas to my lady's woman for notice of your death (a fee I've, before now, known the widow herself go halves in), but no matter for that. In the next place, ten pounds for watching you all your long fit of sickness last winter.

Ld. B.Watching me? Why I had none but my own servants by turns.

Sab.I mean attending to give notice of your death. I had all your long fit of sickness last winter, at half-a-crown a day, a fellow waiting at your gate to bring me intelligence, but you unfortunately recovered, and I lost my obliging pains for your service.

Ld. B.Ha! ha! ha! Sable, thou art a very impudent fellow; half-a-crown a day to attend my decease, and dost thou reckon it to me?

Sab.Look you, gentlemen, don't stand staring at me. I have a book at home which I call my Doomsday book, where I have every man of quality's age and distemper in town, and know when you should drop. Nay, my lord, if you had reflected upon your mortality half so much as poor I have for you, you would not desire to return to life thus; in short, I cannot keep this a secret, under the whole money I am to have for burying you.

Ld. B.Trusty, if you think it safe in you to obey my orders after the deed Puzzle told his clerk of, pay it to him.

Tru.I should be glad to give it out of my own pocket, rather than be without the satisfaction of seeing you witness to it.

Ld. B.I heartily believe thee, dear Trusty.

Sab.Then, my lord, the secret of your being alive, is now safe with me.

Tru.I'll warrant I'll be revenged of this unconscionable dog [Aside]—My lord, you must to your closet, I fear somebody's coming. [ExeuntSableone way,Ld. B.andTrustyanother.]

Lady Sharlotdiscovered reading at a table;Lady Harriotplaying at a glass to and fro, and viewing herself.

L. Ha.Nay, good sage sister, you may as well talk to me [Looking at herself as she speaks], as sit staring at a book, which I know you can't attend. Good Dr. Lucas[22]may have writ there what he pleases, but there's no putting Francis Lord Hardy, now Earl of Brumpton, out of your head, or making him absent from your eyes; do but look at me now, and deny it if you can.

L. Sh.You are the maddest girl——[Smiling.

L. Ha.Look ye, I knew you could not say it and forbear laughing [Looking overSharlot]. Oh, I see his name as plain as you do—F—r—a—n Fran, c—i—s cis, Francis, 'tis in every line of the book.

L. Sh.[Rising] 'Tis in vain, I see, to mind anything in such impertinent company, but granting 'twere as you say as to my Lord Hardy, 'tis more excusable to admire another than one's self.

L. Ha.No, I think not; yes, I grant you than really to be vain at one's person, but I don't admire myself. Pish! I don't believe my eyes have that softness [Looking in the glass], they ain't so piercing. No, 'tis only stuff the men will be talking. Some people are such admirers of teeth. Lord, what signifies teeth? [Showing her teeth.] A very black-a-moor has as white teeth as I. No, sister, I don't admire myself, but I've a spirit of contradiction in me; I don't know I'm in love myself, only to rival the men.

L. Sh.Ay, but Mr. Campley will gain ground even of that rival of his, your dear self.

L. Ha.Oh! what have I done to you, that you should name that insolent intruder, a confident opinionative fop. No indeed, if I am, as a poetical lover of mine sighed and sung of both sexes—

The public envy, and the public care,

I shan't be so easily catched—I thank him—I want but to be sure I should heartily torment him, by banishing him, and then consider whether he should depart this life, or not.

L. Sh.Indeed, sister, to be serious with you, this vanity in your humour does not at all become you!

La. H.Vanity! All the matter is we gay people are more sincere than you wise folks: All your life's an art. Speak your soul—look you there—[Haling her to the glass] are not you struck with a secret pleasure, when you view that bloom in your looks, that harmony in your shape, that promptitude of your mien?

L. Sh.Well, simpleton, if I am at first so silly, as to be a little taken with myself, I know it a fault, and take pains to correct it.

L. Ha.Pshaw! pshaw! talk this musty tale to old Mrs. Fardingale, 'tis too soon for me to think at that rate.

L. Sh.They that think it too soon to understand themselves, will very soon find it too late. But tell me honestly, don't you like Campley?

L. Ha.The fellow is not to be abhorred, if the forward thing did not think of getting me so easily. Oh! I hate a heart I can't break when I please. What makes the value of dear china, but that 'tis so brittle? Were it not for that, you might as well have stone mugs in your closet.

L. Sh.Hist, hist, here's Fardingale.

EnterFardingale.

Far.Lady Harriot, Lady Sharlot! I'll entertain you now, I've a new song just come hot out of the poet's brain. Lady Sharlot, my cousin Campley writ it, and 'tis set to a pretty air, I warrant you.

L. Ha.'Tis like to be pretty indeed, of his writing. [Flings away.

Far.Come, come, this is not one of your tringham trangham witty things, that your poor poets write; no, 'tis well known my cousin Campley has two thousand pounds a year. But this is all dissimulation in you.

L. Sh.'Tis so, indeed, for your cousin's song is very pretty, Mrs. Fardingale.

[Reads.]

Let not love on me bestowSoft distress and tender woe;I know none but substantial blisses,Eager glances, solid kisses;I know not what the lovers feign,Of finer pleasure mixed with pain.Then prithee give me, gentle boy,None of thy grief, but all thy joy.[23]

But Harriot thinks that a little unreasonable, to expect one without enduring t'other.

EnterServant.

Ser.There's your cousin Campley to wait on you without.

Far.Let him come in, we shall have the song now.

EnterCampley.

Cam.Ladies, your most obedient servant; your servant, Lady Sharlot—servant Lady Harriot—[Harriotlooks grave upon him] What's the matter, dear Lady Harriot, not well? I protest to you I'm mightily concerned [Pulls out a bottle]. This is a most excellent spirit, snuff it up, madam.

L. Ha.Pish—the familiar coxcomb frets me heartily.

Cam.'Twill over, I hope, immediately.

L. Sh.Your cousin Fardingale has shown us some of your poetry; there's the spinet, Mr. Campley, I know you're musical.

Cam.She should not have called it my poetry.

Far.No—who waits there—pray bring my lute out of the next room.

EnterServantwith a Lute.

You must know I conned this song before I came in, and find it will go to an excellent air of old Mr. Lawes's[24], who was my mother's intimate acquaintance; my mother's, what do I talk of? I mean my grandmother's. Oh, here's the lute; cousin Campley, hold the song upon your hat.—[Aside to him] 'Tis a pretty gallantry to a relation.

[Sings and Squalls.]

Let not love, &c.

Oh! I have left off these things many a day.

Cam.No; I profess, madam, you do it admirably, but are not assured enough. Take it higher [in her own squall]. Thus—I know your voice will bear it.

L. Ha.O hideous! O the gross flatterer—I shall burst. Mrs. Fardingale, pray go on, the music fits the words most aptly. Take it higher, as your cousin advises.

Far.Oh! dear madam, do you really like it? I do it purely to please you, for I can't sing, alas!

L. Sh.We know it, good madam, we know it. But pray——

Far."Let not love," and "substantial blisses," is lively enough, and ran accordingly in the tune. [Curtsies to the company.] Now I took it higher.

L. Ha.Incomparably done! Nothing can equal it, except your cousin sang his own poetry.

Cam.Madam, from my Lord Hardy. [Delivers a letter toLady Sharlot.]—How do you say, my Lady Harriot, except I sing it myself? Then I assure you I will——

L. Sh.I han't patience. I must go read my letter. [Exit.

Cam.[Sings] Let not love, &c.

Far.Bless me, what's become of Lady Sharlot? [Exit.

L. Ha.Mrs. Fardingale, Mrs. Fardingale, what, must we lose you? [Going after her.

Campleyruns to the door, takes the key out, and locks her in.

What means this insolence? a plot upon me—Do you know who I am?

Cam.Yes, madam, you're my Lady Harriot Lovely, with ten thousand pounds in your pocket; and I am Mr. Campley, with two thousand a year, of quality enough to pretend to you. And I do design, before I leave this room, to hear you talk like a reasonable woman, as nature has made you. Nay, 'tis in vain to flounce, and discompose yourself and your dress.

L. Ha.If there are swords, if they are men of honour, and not all dastards, cowards that pretend to this injured person——[Running round the room.

Cam.Ay, ay, madam, let 'em come. That's putting me in my way, fighting's my trade; but you've used all mankind too ill to expect so much service. In short, madam, were you a fool I should not desire to expostulate with you. [Seizing her hand.] But——

L. Ha.Unhand me, ravisher. [Pulls her hand from him, chases round the room,Campleyafter her.

Cam.But madam, madam, madam, why madam!

Prithee Cynthia look behind you, [Sings.Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you.

L. Ha.Age, wrinkles, small-pox, nay, anything that's most abhorrent to youth and bloom, were welcome in the place of so detested a creature.

Cam.No such matter, Lady Harriot. I would not be a vain coxcomb, but I know I am not detestable, nay, know where you've said as much before you understood me for your servant. Was I immediately transformed because I became your lover?

L. Ha.My lover, sir! did I ever give you reason to think I admitted you as such?

Cam.Yes, you did in your using me ill; for if you did not assume upon the score of my pretending to you, how do you answer to yourself some parts of your behaviour to me as a gentleman? 'Tis trivial, all this, in you, and derogates from the good sense I know you mistress of. Do but consider, madam, I have long loved you, bore with your fantastic humour through all its mazes. Nay, do not frown, for 'tis no better. I say I have bore with this humour, but would you have me with an unmanly servitude feed it? No, I love you with too sincere, too honest a devotion, and would have your mind as faultless as your person, which 'twould be, if you'd lay aside this vanity of being pursued with sighs, with flatteries, with nonsense [She walks about less violently, but more confused.]—Oh! my heart aches at the disturbance which I give her, but she must not see it. [Aside.]—Had I not better tell you of it now, than when your are in my power? I should be then too generous to thwart your inclination.

L. Ha.That is indeed very handsomely said. Why should I not obey reason as soon as I see it? [Aside.]—Sinceso, Mr. Campley, I can as ingenuously as I should then, acknowledge that I have been in an error. [Looking down on her fan.

Cam.Nay, that's too great a condescension. Oh! excellence! I repent! I see 'twas but justice in you to demand my knees [kneeling], my sighs, my constant, tenderest regard and service. And you shall have 'em, since you are above 'em.

L. Ha.Nay, Mr. Campley, you won't recall me to a fault you have so lately shown me. I will not suffer this—no more ecstasies! But pray, sir, what was't you did to get my sister out of the room?

Cam.You may know it, and I must desire you to assist my Lord Hardy there, who writ to her by me; for he is no ravisher, as you called me just now. He is now in the house, and I would fain gain an interview.

L. Ha.That they may have, but they'll make little use of it; for the tongue is the instrument of speech to us of a lower form: They are of that high order of lovers, who know none but eloquent silence, and can utter themselves only by a gesture that speaks their passion inexpressible, and what not fine things.

Cam.But pray let's go into your sister's closet while they are together.

L. Ha.I swear I don't know how to see my sister—she'll laugh me to death to see me out of my pantofles,[25]and you and I thus familiar. However, I know she'll approve it.

Cam.You may boast yourself an heroine to her, and the first woman that was ever vanquished by hearing truth, and had sincerity enough to receive so rough an obligation as being made acquainted with her faults. Come, madam, stand your ground bravely, we'll march in to her thus. [She leaning onCampley.

L. Ha.Who'll believe a woman's anger more? I've betrayed the whole sex to you, Mr. Campley. [Exeunt.

Re-enterLord HardyandCampley.

Cam.My lord, her sister, who now is mine, will immediately send her hither. But be yourself: Charge her bravely. I wish she were a cannon, an eighteen-pounder, for your sake. Then I know, were there occasion, you'd be in the mouth of her.

Ld. H.I long, yet fear to see her. I know I am unable to utter myself.

Cam.Come, retire here till she appears. [They go back to the door.

EnterLady Sharlot.

L. Sh.Now is the tender moment now approaching. [Aside.] There he is. [They approach and salute each other trembling.] Your lordship will please to sit. [After a very long pause, stolen glances, and irresolute gesture.] Your lordship, I think, has travelled those parts of Italy where the armies are.

Ld. H.Yes, madam.

L. Sh.I think I have letters from you, dated Mantua.

Ld. H.I hope you have, madam, and that their purpose——

L. Sh.My lord? [Looking serious and confused.

Ld. H.Was not your ladyship going to say something?

L. Sh.I only attended to what your lordship was going to say—That is, my lord—But you were, I believe, going to say something of that garden of the world, Italy. I am very sorry your misfortunes in England are such as make you justly regret your leaving that place.

Ld. H.There is a person in England may make those losses insensible to me.

L. Sh.Indeed, my lord, there have so very few of quality attended his Majesty in the war, that your birth and merit may well hope for his favour.

Ld. H.I have, indeed, all the zeal in the world for his Majesty's service, and most grateful affection for his person, but did not then mean him.

L. Sh.But can you indeed impartially say that our island is really preferable to the rest of the world, or is it an arrogance only in us to think so?

Ld. H.I profess, madam, that little I have seen has but more endeared England to me; for that medley of humours which perhaps distracts our public affairs, does, methinks, improve our private lives, and makes conversation more various, and consequently more pleasing. Everywhere else both men and things have the same countenance. In France you meet much civility and little friendship; in Holland, deep attention, but little reflection; in Italy, all pleasure, but no mirth. But here with us, where you have everywhere pretenders or masters in everything, you can't fall into company wherein you shall not be instructed or diverted.

L. Sh.I never had an account of anything from you, my lord, but I mourned the loss of my brother; you would have been so happy a companion for him, with that right sense of yours. My lord, you need not bow so obsequiously, for I do you but justice. But you sent me word of your seeing a lady in Italy very like me. Did you visit her often?

Ld. H.Once or twice, but I observed her so loose a creature, that I could have killed her for having your person.

L. Sh.I thank you, sir; but Heaven that preserves me unlike her, will, I hope, make her more like me. But your fellow traveller—his relations themselves know not a just account of him.

Ld. H.The original cause of his fever was a violent passion for a fine young woman he had not power to speak to, but I told her his regard for her as passionately as possible.

L. Sh.You were to him what Mr. Campley has been to you—Whither am I running?—Poor, your friend—poor gentleman——

Ld. H.I hope then as Campley's eloquence is greater, so has been his success.

L. Sh.My lord?

Ld. H.Your ladyship's——

EnterLady Harriot.

L. Ha.Undone! Undone! Tattleaid has found, by some means or other, that Campley brought my Lord Hardy hither; we are utterly ruined, my lady's coming.

Ld. H.I'll stay and confront her.

L. Sh.It must not be; we are too much in her power.

EnterCampley.

Cam.Come, come, my lord, we're routed horse and foot. Down the back stairs, and so out.

Ladies.Ay, ay. [Exeunt.

L. Ha.I tremble every joint of me.

L. Sh.I'm at a stand a little, but rage will recover me; she's coming in.

EnterWidow.

Wid.Ladies, your servant. I fear I interrupt you; have you company? Lady Harriot, your servant; Lady Sharlot, your servant. What, not a word? Oh, I beg your ladyship's pardon. Lady Sharlot, did I say? My young Lady Brumpton, I wish you joy.

L. Sh.Oh, your servant, Lady Dowager Brumpton. That's an appellation of much more joy to you.

Wid.So smart, madam! but you should, methinks, have made one acquainted—Yet, madam, your conduct is seen through.

L. Sh.My conduct, Lady Brumpton!

Wid.Your conduct, Lady Sharlot! [Coming up to each other.

L. Sh.Madam, 'tis you are seen through all your thin disguises.

Wid.I seen? By whom?

L. Sh.By an all-piercing eye, nay, by what you much more fear, the eye of the world. The world sees you, or shall see you. It shall know your secret intemperance, your public fasting—Loose poems in your closet, an homily on your toilet—Your easy, skilful, practised hypocrisy, by which you wrought upon your husband, basely to transfer the trust and ward of us, two helpless virgins, into the hands and care of—I cannot name it. You're a wicked woman.

L. Ha.[Aside.] O rare sister! 'Tis a fine thing to keep one's anger in stock by one. We that are angry and pleased every half-hour have nothing at all of all this high-flown fury! Why, she rages like a princess in a tragedy! Blessings on her tongue.

Wid.Is this the effect of your morning lectures, your self-examination, all this fury?

L. Sh.Yes it is, madam; if I take pains to govern my passions, it shall not give licence to others to govern them for me.

Wid.Well, Lady Sharlot, however you ill deserve it of me, I shall take care, while there are locks and bars, to keep you from Lord Hardy—from being a leager lady, from carrying a knapsack.

L. Sh.Knapsack! Do you upbraid the poverty your own wicked arts have brought him to? Knapsack! O grant me patience! Can I hear this of the man I love? Knapsack! I have not words. [Stamps about the room.

Wid.I leave you to cool upon it; love and anger are very warm passions. [Exit.

L. Ha.She has locked us in.

L. Sh.Knapsack? Well, I will break walls to go to him. I could sit down and cry my eyes out! Dear sister, what a rage have I been in? Knapsack! I'll give vent to my just resentment. Oh, how shall I avoid this base woman; how meet that excellent man! What an helpless condition are you and I in now! If we run into the world, that youth and innocence which should demand assistance does but attract invaders. Will Providence guard us? How do I see that our sex is naturally indigent of protection! I hope 'tis in fate to crown our loves; for 'tis only in the protection of men of honour that we are naturally truly safe—

And woman's happiness, for all her scorn,Is only by that side whence she was born.

EnterLord Hardy, Campley,andTrim.

Ld. H.That jade Tattleaid saw me upon the stairs, for I had not patience to keep my concealment, but must peep out to see what was become of you.

Cam.But we have advice, however, it seems, from the garrison already—this mistress of Trim's is a mighty lucky accident.

Trim.Ay, gentlemen, she has free egress and regress, and you know the French are the best-bred people in the world—she'll be assistant. But, 'faith, I have one scruple that hangs about me; and that is, look you, my lord, we servants have no masters in their absence. In a word, when I am with mademoiselle I talk of your lordship as only a particular acquaintance; that I do business indeed for you sometimes. I must needs say, cries I, that indeed my Lord Hardy is really a person I have a great honour for.

Ld. H.Pish! is that all? I understand you; your mistress does not know that you do me the honour to clean my shoes or so, upon occasion. Pr'ythee, Will, make yourself as considerable as you please.

Trim.Well, then, your lesson is this. She, out of respect to me, and understanding Mr. Campley was an intimate of my friend, my Lord Hardy, and condescending (though she is of a great house in France) to make manteaus for the improvement of the English—which gives her easy admittance—she, I say, moved by these promises,[26]has vouchsafed to bring a letter from my Lady Harriot to Mr. Campley, and came to me to bring her to him. You are to understand also that she is dressed in the latest French cut; her dress is the model of their habit, and herself of their manners. For she is—but you shall see her. [Exit.

Ld. H.This gives me some life! Cheer up, Tom—but behold the solemnity. Do you see Trim's gallantry? I shall laugh out.

EnterTrimleading inMademoiselle.

Trim.My dear Lord Hardy, this is Mademoiselle d'Epingle, whose name you've often heard me sigh. [Lord Hardysalutes her.] Mr. Campley—Mademoiselle d'Epingle. [Campleysalutes her.]

Mad.Votre servante, gentlemen, votre servante.

Cam.I protest to you I never saw anything so becoming as your dress. Shall I beg the favour you'd condescend to let Mr. Trim lead you once round the room, that I may admire the elegance of your habit? [Trimleads her round.

Ld. H.How could you ask such a thing?

Cam.Pshaw, my lord, you are a bashful English fellow. You see she is not surprised at it, but thinks me gallant in desiring it. Oh, madam! your air! the negligence, the disengagement of your manner! Oh how delicate is your noble nation! I swear there's none butthe clumsy Dutch and English would oppose such polite conquerors. When shall you see an Englishwoman so dressed?

Mad.De Englise! poor barbarians; poor savages; dey know no more of de dress but to cover dere nakedness [Glides along the room]. Dey be cloded, but no dressed—But, Monsieur Terim, which Monsieur Campley?

Trim.That's honest Tom Campley.

Cam.At your service, mademoiselle.

Mad.I fear I incur de censure [Pulling out the letter, and recollecting as loth to deliver it], but Mr. Terim being your intimate friend, and I designing to honour him in de way of an husband—so—so—how do I run away in discourse—I never make promise to Mr. Terim before, and now to do it par accident——

Cam.Dear Will Trim is extremely obliging in having prevailed upon you to do a thing that the severity of your virtue, and the greatness of your quality (though a stranger in the country you now honour by your dwelling in it) would not let you otherwise condescend to——

Mad.Oh, monsieur! oh, monsieur! you speak my very thoughts. Oh! I don't know how, pardon me, to give a billet—it so look! O fie! I can no stay after it. [Drops it, runs affectedly to the other end of the room, then quite out; re-enters.] I beg ten tousand pardons for go away to mal-propos. [Curtsies as going.

Ld. H.Your servant, good madam. Mr. Trim, you know you command here. Pray, if Madam d'Epingle will honour our cottage with longer stay, wait on her in and entertain her. Pray, sir, be free.

Trim.My lord, you know your power over me; I'm all complaisance. [Leads her out.

Cam.Now to my dear epistle—

"Sir,"There is one thing which you were too generous to touch upon in our last conversation. We have reason to fear the Widow's practices in relation to our fortunes, if you are not too quick for her. I ask Lady Sharlot whether this is not her sense to Lord Hardy. She says nothing, but lets me write on. These people always have, and will have, admittance everywhere, therefore we may hear from you."I am, sir,"Your most obedient servant,"Harriot Lovely."

"Sir,

"There is one thing which you were too generous to touch upon in our last conversation. We have reason to fear the Widow's practices in relation to our fortunes, if you are not too quick for her. I ask Lady Sharlot whether this is not her sense to Lord Hardy. She says nothing, but lets me write on. These people always have, and will have, admittance everywhere, therefore we may hear from you.

"I am, sir,

"Your most obedient servant,

"Harriot Lovely."

My obedient servant! Thy obedience shall ever be as voluntary as now—ten thousand thousand kisses on thee, thou dear paper. Look you, my lord, what a pretty hand it is?

Ld. H.Why, Tom, thou dost not give me leave to see it. You snatch it to your mouth so, you'll stifle the poor lady.

Cam.Look you, my lord, all along the lines here went the pen; and through them white intervals her snowy fingers. Do you see, this is her name?

Ld. H.Nay, there's Lady Sharlot's name, too, in the midst of the letter. Why, you'll not be so unconscionable; you're so greedy, you'll give me one kiss sure?

Cam.Well, you shall; but you're so eager. Don't bite me, for you shan't have it in your own hands. There, there, there: Let go my hand.

Ld. H.What an exquisite pleasure there is in this foolery—but what shall we do?

Cam.I have a thought; pry'thee, my lord, call Trim.

Ld. H.Ha, Trim——

Cam.Hold, Mr. Trim. You forget his mistress is there.

Ld. H.Gra'mercy! Dear Will Trim, step in hither.

Cam.Ay, that's something——

EnterTrim.

Trim, have not I seen a young woman sometimes carry Madam d'Epingle's trinkets for her, coming from my Lady Brumpton's?

Trim.Yes, you might have seen such a one; she waits for her now.

Cam.Do you think you could not prevail for me to be dressed in that wench's clothes, and attend your mistress in her stead thither? They'll not dream we should so soon attempt again——

Trim.Yes, I'll engage it.

Cam.Then we'll trust the rest to our good genius. I'll about it instantly—Harriot Lovely——[Exit, kissing the letter.

EnterWidowandTattleaid.

Wid.This was well done of you; be sure you take care of their young ladyships; you shall, I promise you, have a snip in the sale of 'em.

Tat.I thank your good ladyship.

Wid.Is that the porter's paper of how d'ye's?

Tat.Yes, madam, he just sent it up. His general answer is, that you're as well as can be expected in your condition, but that you see nobody.

Wid.That's right. [Reading names.] Lady Riggle,Lady Formal—Oh! that Riggle, a pert ogler, an indiscreet silly thing, who is really known by no man, yet for her carriage, justly thought common to all; and as Formal has only the appearance of virtue, so she has only the appearance of vice. What chance, I wonder, put these contradictions to each other into the same coach, as you say they called? Mrs. Frances and Mrs. Winifred Glebe—who are they?

Tat.They are the country great fortunes have been out of town this whole year; they are those whom your ladyship said upon being very well born took upon 'em to be very ill bred.

Wid.Did I say so? really I think 'twas apt enough, now I remember 'em. Lady Wrinkle—oh, that smug old woman! There's no enduring her affectation of youth, but I plague her; I always ask whether her daughter in Wiltshire has a grandchild yet or not. Lady Worthy—I can't bear her company, she has so much of that virtue in her heart which I have in my mouth only. [Aside.] Mrs. After-Day—oh that's she that was the great beauty, the mighty toast about town—that's just come out of the small-pox; she's horribly pitted they say; I long to see her and plague her with my condolence. 'Tis a pure ill-natured satisfaction to see one that was a beauty unfortunately move with the same languor and softness of behaviour that once was charming in her—to see, I say, her mortify that used to kill—ha! ha! ha! The rest are a catalogue of mere names or titles they were born to, an insipid crowd of neither good nor bad; but you are sure these other ladies suspect not in the least that I know of their coming?

Tat.No, dear madam, they are to ask for me.

Wid.I hear a coach. [ExitTat.] I've now an exquisite pleasure in the thought of surpassing my Lady Sly, who pretends to have out-grieved the whole town for her husband. They are certainly coming.—Oh no! here,let me—thus let me sit and think.

[Widowon her couch; while she is raving as to herself,Tattleaidsoftly brings in the ladies.]

Wretched, disconsolate as I am! Oh welcome, welcome, dear killing anguish! Oh, that I could lie down and die in my present heaviness—but what—how? Nay, my dear, dear lord, why do you look so pale, so ghastly at me? Wottoo, wottoo, fright thy own trembling, shivering wife——

Tat.Nay, good madam, be comforted.

Wid.Thou shalt not have me. [PushesTat.

Tat.Nay, good madam, 'tis I, 'tis I, your ladyship's own woman—'tis I, madam, that dress you, and talk to you, and tell you all that's done in the house every day; 'tis I——

Wid.Is it, then, possible? Is it, then, possible that I am left? Speak to me not—hold me not. I'll break the listening walls with my complaints. [Looks surprised at seeing company, then severely atTattleaid.] Ah! Tattleaid——

1st La.Nay, madam, be not angry at her, we would come in in spite of her. We are your friends and are as concerned as you——

Wid.Ah! madam, madam, madam, madam, I am an undone woman. Oh me! Alas! Alas! Oh! Oh! [All join in her notes.] I swoon—I expire. [Faints.

2nd La.Pray, Mrs. Tattleaid, bring something that is cordial to her. [ExitTattleaid.

3rd La.Indeed, madam, you should have patience. His lordship was old. To die is but going before in a journey we must all take.

EnterTattleaidloaded with bottles. 3rd Lady takes a bottle from her and drinks.

4th La.Lord, how my Lady Fleer drinks; I've heard, indeed, but never could believe it of her. [Drinks also.

1st La.But, madam,[27]don't you hear what the town says of the jilt Flirt the men liked so much in the Park? Hark ye—was seen with him in an Hackney-coach—and silk stockings—key-hole—his wig—on the chair——[Whispers by interruptions.

2nd La.Impudent Flirt, to be found out!

3rd La.But I speak it only to you——

4th La.Nor I but to one more——[Whispers next woman.

5th La.I can't believe it; nay, I always thought it, madam——[Whispers theWidow.

Wid.Sure, 'tis impossible! the demure, prim thing! Sure all the world's hypocrisy. Well, I thank my stars, whatsoever sufferings I have, I've none in reputation. I wonder at the men; I could never think her handsome. She has really a good shape and complexion, but no mien; and no woman has the use of her beauty without mien! Her charms are dumb, they want utterance. But whither does distraction lead me—to talk of charms?

1st La.Charms? A chit's, a girl's charms. Come, let us widows be true to ourselves, keep our countenances and our characters, and a fig for the maids—I mean for the unmarried.

2nd La.Ay, since they will set up for our knowledge, why should not we for their ignorance?

3rd La.But, madam, on Sunday morning at church I curtsied to you, and looked at a great fuss in a glaring light dress next pew. That strong masculine thing is a knight's wife, pretends to all the tenderness in the world, and would fain put the unwieldy upon us for the soft, the languid! She has of a sudden left her dairy, and sets up for a fine town-lady, calls her maid Sisly her woman, speaks to her by her surname, Mrs. Cherryfist, and hergreat foot-boy of nineteen, big enough for a trooper, is striped into a lace coat, now Mr. Page forsooth.

4th La.Oh! I have seen her. Well, I heartily pity some people for their wealth, they might have been unknown else! You'd die, madam, to see her and her equipage. I thought the honest fat tits, her horses, were ashamed of their finery; they dragged on as if they were still at the plough, and a great bashful-looked booby behind grasped the coach as if he held one.

5th La.Alas! some people think there's nothing but being fine to be genteel; but the high prance of the horses, and the brisk insolence of the servants in an equipage of quality, are inimitable, but to our own beasts and servants.

1st La.Now you talk of equipage, I envy this lady the beauty she'll appear in in a mourning coach, 'twill so become her complexion; I confess I myself mourned two years for no other reason. Take up that hood there; Oh! that fair face with a veil. [They take up her hoods.

Wid.Fie, fie, ladies. But I've been told, indeed, black does become—

2nd La.Well, I'll take the liberty to speak it, there's young Nutbrain has long had (I'll be sworn) a passion for this lady; but I'll tell you one thing I fear she'll dislike, that is, he's younger than she is.

3rd La.No, that's no exception; but I'll tell you one, he's younger than his brother.

Wid.Ladies, talk not of such affairs. Who could love such an unhappy relict as I am? But, dear madam, what grounds have you for that idle story?

4th La.Why he toasts you, and trembles when you're spoke of; it must be a match.

Wid.Nay, nay; you rally, you rally; but I know you mean it kindly.

1st La.I swear we do. [Tattleaidwhispers theWidow.

Wid.But I must beseech you, ladies, since you have been so compassionate as to visit and accompany my sorrow, to give me the only comfort I can now know, to see my friends cheerful, and to honour an entertainment Tattleaid has prepared within for you. If I can find strength enough I'll attend you; but I wish you'd excuse me, for I've no relish of food or joy, but will try to get a bit down in my own chamber.

All.No, no, you must go with us.

1st La.There's no pleasure without you.

Wid.But, madam, I must beg of your ladyship not to be so importune to my fresh calamity, as to mention Nutbrain any more; I'm sure there's nothing in it. In love with me, quoth a'. [Is helped off. Exeunt.

EnterMademoiselle,andCampleyin women's clothes carrying her things.

Mad.I very glad us be in de ladies' antichamber; I was shamed of you. You, you, such an impudent look; besides, me wonder you were not seized by the constable, when you pushed de man into de kennel.

Cam.Why, should I have let him kissed me?

Mad.No; but if you had hit him wit fan, and say, why sure saucy-box, it been enough; beside, what you hitted de gentleman for offer kiss me?

Cam.I beg pardon, I did not know you were pleased with it.

Mad.Please, no, but me rader be kiss den you, Mr. Terim's friend, be found out. Could not you say when he kiss me, sure saucy-box dat's meat for your master? Besides, you take such strides when you walk—walk—O fie; dese littil pette tiny bits a woman steps. [Showing her step.

Cam.But prithee, mademoiselle, why have you lost your English tongue all of a sudden? Methought when the fellow called us French whores, as we came along,and said we came to starve their own people, you gave him pretty plain English; he was a dog, a rascal, you'd send him to the stocks.

Mad.Ha! ha! ha! I was in a passion and betrayed myself, but you're my lover's friend, and a man of honour, therefore know you'll do nothing to injure us. Why, Mr. Campley, you must know I can speak as good English as you, but I don't for fear of losing my customers. The English will never give a price for anything they understand. Nay, I've known some of your fools pretend to buy with good breeding, and give any rate rather than not be thought to have French enough to know what they were doing; strange and far-fetched things they only like. Don't you see how they swallow gallons of the juice of tea, while their own dock-leaves are trod under foot? But mum; my Lady Harriot.

EnterLady Harriot.

Madam, votre servante, servante——

L. Ha.Well, mademoiselle, did you deliver my letter?

Mad.Oui.

L. Ha.Well, and how—is that it in your hand?

Mad.Oui.

L. Ha.Well then, why don't you give it me?

Mad.O fie! lady, dat be so right Englise, de Englise mind only de words of de lovers, but de words of de lovers are often lie, but de action no lie.

L. Ha.What does the thing mean? Give me my letter.

Mad.Me did not deliver your letter.

L. Ha.No?

Mad.No, me tell you, me did drop it, to see Mr. Campley how cavalier to take it up. As dese me drop it so monsieur run take it up. [They both run to take it up,Mad.takes it.

L. Ha.Will you give me my letter or not?

Mad.Oui. But dus he do. Dere de letter—very well, very well. O l'amour! You act de manner Mr. Campley—take it up better den I, do' you no see it. [They both run,Harriotgets it.

L. Ha.[Reads.]

"Madam,"I am glad you mentioned what indeed I did not at that time think of, nor if I had, should I have known how to have spoken of. But bless me more than fortune can, by turning those fair eyes upon, madam,"Your most faithful,"Most obedient humble servant,"Tho. Campley."

"Madam,

"I am glad you mentioned what indeed I did not at that time think of, nor if I had, should I have known how to have spoken of. But bless me more than fortune can, by turning those fair eyes upon, madam,

"Your most faithful,

"Most obedient humble servant,

"Tho. Campley."

What does he mean? "But bless me more—by turning"—Oh, 'tis he himself [Looking about observesCam.smile]. Oh, the hoyden, the romp, I did not think anything could add to your native confidence, but you look so very bold in that dress, and your arms will fall off, and your petticoats how they hang!

Cam.Mademoiselle, voulez vous de Salville l'eau d'Hongrie, chez Monsieur Marchand de Montpelier—Dis for your teet [Showing his trinkets], de essence, a little book French for teach de elder broders make compliments. Will you, I say, have anything that I have, will you have all I have, madam?

L. Ha.Yes, and for humour's sake, will never part with this box, while I live, ha! ha! ha!

Cam.But, Lady Harriot, we must not stand laughing; as you observe in your letter, delays are dangerous in this wicked woman's custody of you; therefore I must, madam, beseech you, and pray stay not on niceties, but be advised.

L. Ha.Mr. Campley, I have no will but yours.

Cam.Thou dear creature, but [Kisses her hand] harkeethen, you must change dresses with mademoiselle, and go with me instantly.

L. Ha.What you please.

Cam.Madam d'Epingle, I must desire you to comply with a humour of gallantry of ours—you may be sure I'll have an eye over the treatment you have upon my account—only to change habits with Lady Harriot, and let her go while you stay.

Mad.Wit all my heart.[28][Offers to undress herself.

L. Ha.What, before Mr. Campley?

Mad.Oh, oh—very Anglaise! dat is so Englise, all women of quality in France are dress and undress by a valet de chambre; de man chamber-maid help complexion better den de woman. [Apart toL. Harriot.

L. Ha.Nay, that's a secret in dress, mademoiselle, I never knew before, and am so unpolished an English woman as to resolve never to learn even to dress before my husband. Oh! Indecency! Mr. Campley, do you hear what mademoiselle says?

Mad.Oh! Hist—bagatelle.

L. Ha.Well, we'll run in and be ready in an instant. [ExeuntL. HarriotandMademoiselle.

Cam.Well, I like her every minute better and better. What a delicate chastity she has! There's something so gross in the carriage of some wives (though they're honest too) that they lose their husbands' hearts for faults which, if they had either good nature or good breeding, they know not how to tell 'em of. But how happy am I in such a friend as Hardy, such a mistress as Harriot!

Continue Heaven, a grateful heart to blessWith faith in friendship, and in love success.

EnterWidowandTrusty.

Wid.Mr. Trusty, you have, I do assure you, the same place and power in the management of my Lord Brumpton's estate, as in his life-time. (I am reduced to a necessity of trusting him) [aside.] However Tattleaid dissembles the matter, she must be privy to Lady Harriot's escape, and Fardingale's as deep with 'em both, and I fear will be their ruin, which 'tis my care and duty to prevent. Be vigilant, and you shall be rewarded. I shall employ you wholly in Lady Sharlot's affairs, she is able to pay services done for her. You've sense, and understand me. [ExitWidow.

Tru.Yes, I do indeed understand you, and could wish another could with as much detestation as I do, but my poor old lord is so strangely, so bewitchedly enamoured of her, that even after this discovery of her wickedness, I see he could be reconciled to her, and though he is ashamed to confess to me, I know he longs to speak with her. If I tell Lord Hardy all to make his fortune, hewould not let his father be dishonoured by a public way of separation. If things are acted privately, I know she'll throw us all; there's no middle-way, I must expose her to make a reunion impracticable. Alas, how is honest truth banished the world; when we must watch the seasons and soft avenues to men's hearts, to gain it entrance even for their own good and interest! [Exit.

EnterLord Hardy, Campley,andTrim.

Ld. H.I forget my own misfortunes, dear Campley, when I reflect on your success.

Cam.I assure you, it moderates the swell of joy that I am in, to think of your difficulties. I hope my felicity is previous to yours; my Lady Harriot gives her service to you, and we both think it but decent to suspend our marriage 'till your and Lady Sharlot's affairs are in the same posture.

Ld. H.Where is my lady?

Cam.She's at my aunt's, my lord. But, my lord, if you don't interpose, I don't know how I shall adjust matters with Mr. Trim for leaving his mistress behind me: I fear he'll demand satisfaction of me.

Trim.No, sir, alas, I can know no satisfaction while she is in jeopardy. Therefore would rather be put in a way to recover her by storming the castle, or other feat of arms, like a true enamoured swain as I am.

Cam.Since we are all three then expecting lovers, my lord, prithee let's have that song of yours which suits our common purpose.

Ld. H.Call in the boy.

Boysings.[29]

I.Ye minutes bring the happy hour,And Chloe blushing to the bower;Then shall all idle flames be o'er,Nor eyes or heart e'er wander more;Both, Chloe, fixed for e'er on thee,For thou art all thy sex to me.II.A guilty is a false embrace,Corinna's love's a fairy-chace;Begone, thou meteor, fleeting fire,And all that can't survive desire.Chloe my reason moves and awe,And Cupid shot me when he saw.

Trim.Look you, gentlemen, since as you are pleased to say we're all lovers, and consequently poets, pray do me the honour to hear a little air of mine. You must know then, I once had the misfortune to fall in love below myself, but things went hard with us at that time, so that my passion, or as I may poetically speak, my fire was in the kitchen; 'twas towards a cook-maid, but before I ever saw Mrs. Deborah.

Ld. H.Come on then, Trim, let's have it.

Trim.I must run into next room for a lute. [Exit.

Cam.This must be diverting! can the rogue play?

Re-enterTrim,with a pair of Tongs.

Trim.Dear Cynderaxa herself very well understood this instrument, I therefore always sung this song to it, as thus—

I.Cynderaxa kind and good,Has all my heart and stomach too;She makes me love, not hate, my food,As other peevish wenches do.II.When Venus leaves her Vulcan's cell,Which all but I a coal-hole call;Fly, fly, ye that above stairs dwell,Her face is washed, ye vanish all.III.And as she's fair, she can impartThat beauty, to make all things fine;Brightens the floor with wondrous art,And at her touch the dishes shine.

Ld. H.I protest, Will, thou art a poet indeed. "And at her touch the dishes shine"—and you touch your lute as finely.

EnterBoy.

Boy.There's one Mr. Trusty below would speak with my lord.

Ld. H.Mr. Trusty? My father's steward? What can he have to say to me?

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