Wild. Hell and the Devil! I’ll hear no more Of this religious Stuff, this godly Nonsense. Death, Madam, do you bring me into your Chamber to preach Virtue to me?
L.Gal. I bring you hither! how can you say it?I suffer’d you indeed to come, but notFor the base end you fancy’d, but to takeA last Leave of you. Let my Heart break with Love,I cannot be that wretched thing you’d have me;Believe I still shall have a Kindness for you,Always your Friend, your Mistress now no more.
Wild. Cozen’d, abus’d, she loves some other Man!Dull Blockhead, not to find it out before! [Aside.—Well, Madam, may I at last believeThis is your fix’d and final Resolution?And does your Tongue now truly speak your Heart,That has so long bely’d it?
L.Gal. It does.
Wild. I’m glad on’t. Good Night; and when I visit you again, May you again thus fool me. [Offers to go.
L.Gal. Stay but a Moment.
Wild. For what? to praise your Night-dress, or makeCourt to your little Dog? No, no, Madam, send for Mr.Flamfull, and Mr. Flutterbuz, Mr. Lap-fool and Mr.Loveall; they’ll do it better, and are more at leisure.
L.Gal. Hear me a little: You know I both despise, and hate those civil Coxcombs, as much as I esteem and love you. But why will you be gone so soon? and why are ye so cruel to urge me thus to part either with your good Opinion or your Kindness? I wou’d fain keep ‘em both. [In a soft Tone.
Wild. Then keep your Word, Madam.
L.Gal. My Word! and have I promis’d then to beA Whore? A Whore! Oh, let me think of that!A Man’s Convenience, his leisure Hours, his Bed of Ease,To loll and tumble on at idle times;The Slave, the Hackney of his lawless Lust!A loath’d Extinguisher of filthy Flames,Made use of, and thrown by—Oh, infamous!
Wild. Come, come, you love me not, I see it plain;That makes your Scruples; that, that’s the ReasonYou start at Words, and turn away from Shadows.Already some pert Fop, some Ribbon Fool,Some dancing Coxcomb, has supplanted meIn that unsteady treacherous Woman’s Heart of yours.
L.Gal. Believe it if you will. Yes, let me be false, unjust, ungrateful, any thing but a—Whore—
Wild. Oh, Sex on purpose form’d to plague Mankind!All that you are, and all you do’s a Lye.False are your Faces, false your floating Hearts;False are your Quarrels, false your Reconcilements:Enemies without Reason, and dear without Kindness;Your Friendship’s false, but much more false your Love;Your damn’d deceitful Love is all o’er false.
L.Gal. False rather are the Joys you are so fond of.Be wise, and cease, Sir, to pursue ‘em farther.
Wild. No, them I can never quit, but you most easily: A Woman changeable and false as you.
L.Gal. Said you most easily? Oh, inhuman!Your cruel Words have wak’d a dismal Thought;I feel ‘em cold and heavy at my Heart,And Weakness steals upon my Soul apace;I find I must be miserable—I wou’d not be thought false.[In a soft Tone, coming near him.
Wild. Nor wou’d I think you so; give me not Cause.
L.Gal. What Heart can bear distrust from what it loves?Or who can always her own Wish deny? [Aside.My Reason’s weary of the unequal Strife;And Love and Nature will at last o’ercome.—Do you not then believe I love you?[To him in a soft Tone.
Wild. How can I, while you still remain unkind?
L.Gal. How shall I speak my guilty Thoughts?I have not Power to part with you; conceal my Shame, I doubtI cannot, I fear I wou’d not any more deny you.
Wild. Oh heavenly Sound! Oh charming Creature! Speak that word again, agen, agen! for ever let me hear it.
L.Gal. But did you not indeed? and will you never, never love Mrs.Charlot, never?
Wild. Never, never.
L, Gal. Turn your Face away, and give me leave To hide my rising Blushes: I cannot look on you.
[As this last Speech is speaking, she sinks into hisArms by degrees.
But you must undo me if you will—Since I no other way my Truth can prove,—You shall see I love.Pity my Weakness, and admire my Love.
Wild. All Heaven is mine, I have it in my Arms,Nor can ill Fortune reach me any more.Fate, I defy thee, and dull World, adieu.In Love’s kind Fever let me ever lie,Drunk with Desire, and raving mad with Joy.
[Exeunt into the Bed-chamber, Wild.leading her with his Arms about her.
Another Room in LadyGalliard’sHouse.
Enter Sir_ Charles Meriwilland SirAnthony,SirCharlesdrunk.
SirAnth. A Dog, a Rogue, to leave her!
SirChar. Why, look ye, Uncle, what wou’d you have a Man do? I brought her to her Coach—
SirAnth. To her Coach! to her Coach! Did not I put her into your Hand, follow’d you out, wink’d, smil’d and nodded; cry’d ‘byeCharles, ‘bye Rogue; which was as much as to say, Go home with her,Charles, home to her Chamber,Charles; nay, as much as to say, Home to her Bed,Charles; nay, as much as to say—Hum, hum, a Rogue, a Dog, and yet to be modest too! That I shou’d bring thee up with no more Fear of God before thy Eyes!
SirChar. Nay, dear Uncle, don’t break my Heart now! Why, I did proffer, and press, and swear, and ly’d, and—but a pox on her, she has the damn’dst wheedling way with her, as dearCharles, nay prithee, fie, ’.is late, to morrow, my Honour, which if you lov’d you wou’d preserve; and such obliging Reasons.
SirAnth. Reasons! Reason! a Lover, and talk of Reason! You lye, Sirrah, you lye. Leave a Woman for Reason, when you were so finely drunk too, a Rascal!
SirChar. Why look ye, d’ye see, Uncle, I durst not trust my self alone with her in this pickle, lest I shou’d ha’ fallen foul on her.
SirAnth. Why, there’s it; ‘tis that you shou’d have done; I am mistaken if she be not one of those Ladies that love to be ravisht of a Kindness. Why, your willing Rape is all the Fashion,Charles.
SirChar. But hark ye, Uncle.
SirAnth. Why, how now, Jack-sauce, what, capitulate?
SirChar. Why, do but hear me, Uncle; Lord, you’re so hasty! Why, look ye, I am as ready, d’ye see, as any Man on these Occasions.
SirAnth. Are you so, Sir? and I’ll make you willing, or try Toledo with you, Sir—Why, what, I shall have you whining when you are sober again, traversing your Chamber with Arms across, railing on Love and Women, and at last defeated, turn whippingTom, to revenge your self on the whole Sex.
SirChar. My dear Uncle, come kiss me and be friends; I will be rul’d.[Kisses him.
SirAnth.—A most admirable good-natur’d Boy this! [Aside.Well then, dearCharles, know, I have brought thee now hither to theWidow’s House, with a Resolution to have thee order matters so, as beforethou quitst her, she shall be thy own, Boy.
SirChar. Gad, Uncle, thou’rt a Cherubin! Introduce me, d’ye see, and if I do not so woo the Widow, and so do the Widow, that e’er morning she shall be content to take me for better for worse—Renounce me! Egad, I’ll make her know the Lord God fromTom Bell, before I have done with her. Nay, backt by my noble Uncle, I’ll venture on her, had she all Cupid’s Arrows, genus’s Beauty, and Messalina’s Fire, d’ye see.
SirAnth. A sweet Boy, a very sweet Boy! Hum, thou art damnable handsome to Night,Charles—Ay, thou wilt do’t; I see a kind of resistless Leudness about thee, a most triumphant Impudence, loose and wanton. [Stands looking on him.
EnterCloset.
Clos. Heavens, Gentlemen, what makes you here at this time of Night?
SirChar. Where’s your Lady?
Clos. Softly, dear Sir.
SirChar. Why, is she asleep? Come, come, I’ll wake her. [Offers to force in as to the Bed-chamber.
Clos. Hold, hold, Sir; No, no, she’s a little busy, Sir.
SirChar. I’ll have no Business done to Night, Sweetheart.
Clos. Hold, hold, I beseech you, Sir, her Mother’s with her; For Heaven’s sake, Sir, be gone.
SirChar. I’ll not budge.
SirAnth. No, not a Foot.
Clos. The City you know, Sir, is so censorious—
SirChar. Damn the City.
SirAnth. All the Whigs,Charles, all the Whigs.
SirChar. In short, I am resolv’d, d’ye see, to go to the Widow’sChamber.
SirAnth. Harkye, Mrs. Closet I thought I had entirely engag’d you thisEvening.
Clos. I am perfectly yours, Sir; but how it happens so, her Mother being there—Yet if you wou’d withdraw for half an hour, into my Chamber, till she were gone—
SirAnth. This is the Reason,Charles. Here, here’s two Pieces to buy thee a Gorget. [Gives her Money.
SirChar. And here’s my two, because thou art industrious. [Gives her Money, and they go out with her.
Enter LadyGalliardin rage, held byWilding.
L.Gal. What have I done? Ah, whither shall I fly? [Weeps.
Wild. Why all these Tears? Ah, why this cruel Passion?
L.Gal. Undone, undone! Unhand me, false, forsworn;Be gone, and let me rage till I am dead.What shou’d I do with guilty Life about me?
Wild. Why, where’s the harm of what we two have done?
L.Gal. Ah, leave me—Leave me alone to sigh to flying Winds,That the Infection may be borne aloft,And reach no human Ear.
Wild. Cease, lovely Charmer, cease to wound me more.
L.Gal. Shall I survive this Shame? No, if I do,Eternal Blushes dwell upon my Cheeks,To tell the World my Crime.—Mischief and Hell, what Devil did possess me?
Wild. It was no Devil, but a Deity;A little gay wing’d God, harmless and innocent,Young as Desire, wanton as Summer-breezes,Soft as thy Smiles, resistless as thy Eyes.
L.Gal. Ah, what malicious God,Sworn Enemy to feeble Womankind,Taught thee the Art of Conquest with thy Tongue?Thy false deluding Eyes were surely madeOf Stars that rule our Sex’s Destiny:And all thy Charms were by Inchantment wrought,That first undo the heedless Gazers on,Then shew their natural Deformity.
Wild. Ah, myGalliard, am I grown ugly then? Has my increase of Passion lessen’d yours? [In a soft Tone.
L.Gal. Peace, Tempter, Peace, who artfully betrayest me,And then upbraidest the Wretchedness thou’st made.—Ah, Fool, eternal Fool! to know my Danger,Yet venture on so evident a Ruin.
Wild. Say,—what one Grace is faded?Is not thy Face as fair, thy Eyes as killing?By Heaven, much more! This charming change of LooksRaises my Flame, and makes me wish t’invokeThe harmless God again.[Embraces her.
L.Gal. By Heaven, not all thy ArtShall draw me to the tempting Sin again.
Wild. Oh, I must, or die.
L.Gal. By all the Powers, by—
Wild. Oh, do not swear, lest Love shou’d take it illThat Honour shou’d pretend to give him Laws,And make an Oath more powerful than his Godhead.—Say that you will half a long Hour hence—
L.Gal. Hah!
Wild. Or say a tedious Hour.
L.Gal. Death, never—
Wild. Or if you—promise me then to morrow.
L.Gal. No, hear my Vows.
Wild. Hold, see me die; if you resolve ‘em fatal to my Love, by Heaven I’ll do’t. [Lays his Hand on his Sword.
L.Gal. Ah, what—
Wild. Revoke that fatal Never then.
L.Gal. I dare not.
Wild. Oh, say you will.
L.Gal. Alas, I dare not utter it.
Wild. Let’s in, and thou shalt whisper it into my Bosom; Or sighing, look it to me with thy Eyes.
L.Gal. Ah,Wilding— [Sighs.
Wild. It toucht my Soul! Repeat that Sigh again.
L.Gal. Ah, I confess I am but feeble Woman.[Leans on him.
SirChar. Good Mistress Keep-door, stand by: for I must enter.[SirChar.without.
L.Gal. Hah, young Meriwill’s Voice!
Clos. Pray, SirCharles, let me go and give my Lady notice. [She enters and goes toWild. —For Heaven’s sake, Sir, withdraw, or my Lady’s Honour’s lost.
Wild. What will you have me do? [ToGalliard.
L.Gal. Be gone, or you will ruin me for ever. [In disorder.
Wild. Nay, then I will obey.
L.Gal. Here, down the back-stairs—As you have Honour, go and cherish mine.[Pulling him. He goes out.—He’s gone, and now nethinks the shivering Fit ofHonour is return’d.
Enter SirCharles,rudely pushingClosetaside with SirAnthony.
Sir. Char. Deny’d an entrance! nay, then there is a Rival in the Case, or so; and I’m resolv’d to discover the Hellish Plot, d’ye see.
[Just as he enters drunk at one Door,Wild.returns at the other.
L.Gal. Ha,Wildingreturn’d! Shield me, ye Shades of Night.[Puts out the Candles, and goes toWild.
Wild. The Back-Stairs Door is lockt.
L.Gal. Oh, I am lost! curse on this fatal Night!Art thou resolv’d on my undoing every way.
Clos. Nay, now we’re by dark, let me alone to guide you. Sir.[ToWild.
SirChar. What, what, all in darkness? Do you makeLove like Cats, by Star-light? [Reeling about.
L.Gal. Ah, he knows he’s here!—Oh, what a pain is Guilt![Aside.
Wild. I wou’d not be surpriz’d.
[AsClosettakes him to lead him out, he takes out his Sword, and by dark pushes by SirCharles,and almost overthrows SirAnth.at which they both draw, whilst he goes out withCloset.
SirChar. Hah, Gad, ‘twas a Spark!—What, vanisht! hah—
SirAnth. Nay, nay, Sir, I am for ye.
SirChar. Are you so, Sir? and I am for the Widow, Sir, and—
[Just as they are passing at each other, Closetenters with a Candle.
Hah, why, what have we here?—my nown Flesh and Blood?[Embracing his Uncle.
SirAnth. Cry mercy, Sir! Pray, how fell we out?
SirChar. Out, Sir! Prithee where’s my Rival? where’s the Spark, the— Gad, I took thee for an errant Rival: Where is he? [Searching about.
L.Gal. Whom seek ye, Sir, a Man, and in my Lodgings?[Angrily.
Clos. A Man! Merciful, what will this scandalous lying World come to? Here’s no Man.
SirChar. Away, I say, thou damn’d Domestick Intelligence, that comest out every half hour with some fresh Sham—No Man!—What, ‘twas an Appointment only, hum,—which I shall now make bold to unappoint, render null, void, and of none effect. And if I find him here, [Searches about.] I shall very civilly and accidentally, as it were, being in perfect friendship with him—pray, mark that—run him through the Lungs.
L.Gal. Oh, whata Coward’s Guilt! what mean you, Sir?
SirChar. Mean? why I am obstinately bent to ravish thee, thou hypocritical Widow, make thee mine by force, that so I have no obligation to thee, and consequently use thee scurvily with a good Conscience.
SirAnth. A most delicate Boy! I’ll warrant him as lend as the best of’em, God grant him Life and Health. [Aside.
L.Gal. ‘Tis late, and I entreat your absence, Sir: These are my Hours of Prayer, which this unseasonable Visit has disturb’d.
SirChar. Prayer! No more of that, Sweetheart; for let me tell you, your Prayers are heard. A Widow of your Youth and Complexion can be praying for nothing so late, but a good Husband; and see, Heaven has sent him just in the crit—critical minute, to supply your Occasions.
SirAnth. A Wag, an arch Wag; he’ll learn to make Lampoons presently.I’ll not give Sixpence from him, though to the poor of the Parish.
SirChar. Come, Widow, let’s to Bed.[Pulls her, she is angry.
L.Gal. Hold, Sir, you drive the Jest too far;And I am in no humour now for Mirth.
SirChar. Jest: Gad, ye lye, I was never in more earnest in all myLife.
SirAnth. He’s in a heavenly humour, thanks to good Wine, good Counsel, and good Company. [Getting nearer the Door still.
L.Gal. What mean you, Sir? what can my Woman think to see me treated thus?
SirChar. Well thought on! Nay, we’ll do things decently, d’ye see— Therefore, thou sometimes necessary Utensil, withdraw. [Gives her to SirAnth.
SirAnth. Ay, ay, let me alone to teach her her Duty. [Pushes her out, and goes out.
L.Gal. Stay, Closet, I command ye. —What have you seen in me shou’d move you to this rudeness? [To SirChar.
SirChar. No frowning; for by this dear Night, ‘tis Charity, care of your Reputation, Widow; and therefore I am resolv’d no body shall lie with you but my self. You have dangerous Wasps buzzing about your Hive, Widow—mark that—[She flings from him.] Nay, no parting but upon terms, which, in short, d’ye see, are these: Down on your Knees, and swear me heartily, as Gad shall judge your Soul, d’ye see, to marry me to morrow.
L.Gal. To morrow! Oh, I have urgent business then.
SirChar. So have I. Nay, Gad, an you be for the nearest way to the Wood, the sober discreet way of loving, I am sorry for ye, look ye. [He begins to undress.
L.Gal. Hold, Sir, what mean you?
SirChar. Only to go to Bed, that’s all. [Still undressing.
L.Gal. Hold, hold, or I’ll call out.
SirChar. Ay, do, call up a Jury of your Female Neighbours, they’ll be for me, d’ye see, bring in the Bill Ignoramus, though I am no very true blue Protestant neither; therefore dispatch, or—
L.Gal. Hold, are you mad? I cannot promise you to night.
SirChar. Well, well, I’ll be content with Performance then to night, and trust you for your Promise till to morrow.
SirAnth. [peeping.] Ah, Rogue! by George, he out-does myExpectations of him.
L.Gal. What Imposition’s this! I’ll call for help.
Sir. Char. You need not, you’ll do my business better alone. [Pulls her.
L.Gal. What shall I do? how shall I send him hence? [Aside.
SirAnth. He shall ne’er drink small Beer more, that’s positive; I’ll burn all’s Books too, they have help’d to spoil him; and sick or well, sound or unsound, Drinking shall be his Diet, and Whoring his Study. [Aside, peeping unseen.
SirChar. Come, come, no pausing; your Promise, or I’ll to Bed.
[Offers to pull off his Breeches, having pulled off almost all the rest of his Clothes.
L.Gal. What shall I do? here is no Witness near: And to be rid of himI’ll promise him; he’ll have forgot it in his sober Passion. [Aside.Hold, I do swear I will—[He fumbling to undo his Breeches.
SirChar. What?
L.Gal. Marry you.
SirChar. When?
L.Gal. Nay, that’s too much—Hold, hold, I will to morrow—Now you are satisfy’d, you will withdraw?
Enter SirAnth.andCloset.
SirAnth. Charles, Joy,Charles, give you Joy, here’s two substantialWitnesses.
Clos. I deny it, Sir; I heard no such thing.
SirAnth. What, what, Mrs. Closet, a Waiting-woman of Honour, and flinch from her Evidence! Gad, I’ll damn thy Soul if thou dar’st swear what thou say’st.
L.Gal. How, upon the Catch, Sir! am I betray’d?Base and unkind, is this your humble Love?Is all your whining come to this, false Man?By Heaven, I’ll be reveng’d.[She goes out in a Rage withCloset.
SirChar. Nay, Gad, you’re caught, struggle and flounder as you please,Sweetheart, you’ll but intangle more; let me alone to tickle your Gills,i’faith. [Looking after her.—Uncle, get ye home about your Business;I hope you’ll give me the good morrow, as becomes me—I say no more, aWord to the Wise—
SirAnth. By George, thou’rt a brave Fellow; why, I did not think it had been in thee, Man. Well, adieu; I’ll give thee such a good morrow,Charles—the Devil’s in him!—’Bye, Charles—a plaguy Rogue!—’night, Boy—a divine Youth!
[Going and returning, as not able to leave him. Exit.
SirChar. Gad, I’ll not leave her now, till she is mine;Then keep her so by constant Consummation.Let Man o’ God do his, I’ll do my Part,In spite of all her Fickleness and Art;There’s one sure way to fix a Widow’s Heart.
[Exit.
EnterDresswell, Foppington, Laboir,and five or six more disguised with Wizards and dark Lanthorns.
Fop. Not yet! a plague of this damn’d Widow: The Devil ow’d him an unlucky Cast, and has thrown it him to night.
EnterWild,in Rapture and Joy.
—Hah, dearTom, art thou come?
Wild. I saw how at her length she lay! I saw her rising Bosom bare!
Fop. A Pox of her rising Bosom! My dear, let’s dress and about our Business.
Wild. Her loose thin Robes, through which appear A Shape design’d for Love and Play!
Dres. Sheart, Sir, is this a time for Rapture? ‘tis almost day.
Wild. Ah,Frank, such a dear Night!
Dress. A Pox of Nights, Sir, think of this and the Day to come: which I perceive you were too well employ’d to remember.
Wild. The Day to come! Death, who cou’d be so dull in such dear Joys, To think of Time to come, or ought beyond ‘em! And had I not been interrupted byCharles Meriwill, who, getting drunk, had Courage enough to venture on an untimely Visit, I’d had no more power of returning, than committing Treason: But that conjugal Lover, who will needs be my Cuckold, made me then give him way, that he might give it me another time, and so unseen I got off. But come—my Disguise. [Dresses.
Dres. All’s still and hush, as if Nature meant to favour our Design.
Wild. ‘Tis well: and hark ye, my Friends, I’ll prescribe ye no Bounds, nor Moderation; for I have consider’d, if we modestly take nothing but the Writings,’.will be easy to suspect the Thief.
Fop. Right; and since ‘tis for the securing our Necks, ‘tis lawful Prize—Sirrah, leave the Portmantle here. [Exeunt as into the House.
After a small time, EnterJerviceundres’d, crying out, pursued by some of the Thieves.
Jer. Murder, Murder! Thieves, Murder!
EnterWildingwith his Sword drawn.
Wild. A plague upon his Throat; set a Gag in’s Mouth and bind him, though he be my Uncle’s chief Pimp—so—
[They bind and gag him.EnterDresswell,andLaboir.
Dres. Well, we have bound all within hearing in their Beds, e’er they cou’d alarm their Fellows by crying out.
Wild. ‘Tis well; come, follow me, like a kind Midnight-Ghost, I will conduct ye to the rich buried Heaps—this Door leads to my Uncle’s Apartment; I know each secret Nook conscious of Treasure.
[All go in, leavingJervicebound on the Stage.
EnterSensurerunning half undressed, as from SirTimothy’sChamber, with his Velvet-Coat on her Shoulders.
Sen. Help, help! Murder! Murder![Dres. Lab.and others pursue her.
Dres. What have we here, a Female bolted from Mr. Alderman’s Bed?[Holding a Lanthorn to his Face.
Sen. Ah, mercy, Sir, alas, I am a Virgin.
Dres. A Virgin! Gad and that may be, for any great Miracles the old Gentleman can do.
Sen. Do! alas, Sir, I am none of the Wicked.
Dres. That’s well—The sanctify’d Jilt professes Innocence, yet has the Badge of her Occupation about her Neck. [Pulls off the Coat.
Sen. Ah, Misfortune, I have mistook his Worship’s Coat for my Gown. [A little Book drops out of her Bosom.
Dres. What have we here? A Sermon preacht by Richard Baxter, Divine. Gad a mercy, Sweetheart, thou art a hopeful Member of the true Protestant Cause.
Sen. Alack, how the Saints may be scandaliz’d! I went but to tuck his Worship up.
Dres. And comment upon the Text a little, which I suppose may be, increase and multiply—Here, gag, and bind her. [ExitDres.
Sen. Hold, hold, I am with Child!
Lab. Then you’ll go near to miscarry of a Babe of Grace.
EnterWild. Fop.and others, leading in SirTimothyin his Night-gown and Night-Gap.
SirTim. Gentlemen, why, Gentlemen, I beseech you use a Conscience in what you do, and have a feeling in what you go about—Pity my Age.
Wild. Damn’d beggarly Conscience, and needless Pity—
SirTim. Oh, fearful—But, Gentlemen, what is’t you design? is it a general Massacre, pray? or am I the only Person aim’d at as a Sacrifice for the Nation? I know, and all the World knows, how many Plots have been laid against my self, both by Men, Women, and Children, the diabolical Emissaries of the Pope.
Wild. How, Sirrah! [Fiercely, he starts.
SirTim. Nay, Gentlemen, not but I love and honour his Holiness with all my Soul; and if his Grace did but know what I’ve done for him, d’ye see—
Fop. You done for the Pope, Sirrah! Why, what have you done for the Pope?
SirTim. Why, Sir, an’t like ye, I have done you very great Service, very great Service; for I have been, d’ye see, in a small Tryal I had, the cause and occasion of invalidating the Evidence to that degree, that I suppose no Jury in Christendom will ever have the Impudence to believe ’.m hereafter, shou’d they swear against his Holiness and all the Conclave of Cardinals.
Wild. And yet you plot on still, cabal, treat, and keep open Debauch, for all the Renegado-Tories and old Commonwealthsmen to carry on the good Cause.
SirTim. Alas, what signifies that! You know, Gentlemen, that I have such a strange and natural Agility in turning—I shall whip about yet, and leave ‘em all in the Lurch.
Wild. ‘Tis very likely; but at this time we shall not take your Word for that.
SirTim. Bloody-minded Men, are you resolv’d to assassinate me then?
Wild. You trifle, Sir, and know our Business better, than to think we come to take your Life, which wou’d not advantage a Dog, much less any Party or Person—Come, come, your Keys, your Keys.
Fop. Ay, ay, discover, discover your Money, Sir, your ready—
SirTim. Money, Sir, good lack, is that all? [Smiling on ‘em.]Why, what a Beast was I, not knowing of your coming, to put out all myMoney last Week to Alderman Draw-tooth? Alack, alack, what shift shall Imake now to accommodate you?—But if you please to come again to morrow—
Fop. A shamming Rogue; the right Sneer and Grin of a dissembling Whig. Come, come, deliver, Sir; we are for no Rhetorick but ready Money. [Aloud and threatning.
SirTim. Hold, I beseech you, Gentlemen, not so loud; for there is a Lord, a most considerable Person, and a Stranger, honours my House to night; I wou’d not for the world his Lordship shou’d be disturb’d.
Wild. Take no care for him, he’s fast bound and all his Retinue.
SirTim. How, bound! my Lord bound, and all his People! Undone, undone, disgrac’d! What will the Polanders say, that I shou’d expose their Embassador to this Disrespect and Affront?
Wild. Bind him, and take away his Keys.
[They bind him hand and foot, and take his Keys out of his Bosom. Ex. all.
SirTim. Ay, ay, what you please, Gentlemen, since my Lord’s bound—Oh, what Recompence can I make for so unhospitable Usage? I am a most unfortunate Magistrate: hah, who’s there,Jervice? Alas, art thou here too? What, canst not speak? but ‘tis no matter and I were dumb too; for what Speech or Harangue will serve to beg my Pardon of my Lord?—And then my Heiress,Jervice, ay, my rich Heiress, why, she’ll be ravisht: Oh Heavens, ravisht! The young Rogues will have no Mercy,Jervice; nay, perhaps as thou say’st, they’ll carry her away.—Oh, that thought! Gad, I rather the City-Charter were lost. [Enter some with Bags of Money. —Why, Gentlemen, rob like Christians, Gentlemen.
Fop. What, do you mutter, Dog?
SirTim. Not in the least, Sir, not in the least; only a Conscience, Sir, in all things does well—Barbarous Rogues. [They go out all again.] Here’s your arbitrary Power,Jervice; here’s the Rule of the Sword now for you: These are your Tory Rogues, your tantivy Roysters; but we shall cry quits with you, Rascals, ere long; and if we do come to our old Trade of Plunder and Sequestration, we shall so handle ye—we’ll spare neither Prince, Peer, nor Prelate. Oh, I long to have a slice at your fat Church-men, your Crape-Gownorums.
EnterWild. Dresswell, Laboir,and the rest, with more Bags.
Wild. A Prize, a Prize, my Lads, in ready Guineas; Contribution, my beloved.
Dres. Nay, then ‘tis lawful Prize, in spite of Ignoramus and all his Tribe—What hast thou here? [ToFop.who enters with a Bag full of Papers.
Fop. A whole Bag of Knavery, damn’d Sedition, Libels, Treason, Successions, Rights and Privileges, with a new-fashion’d Oath of Abjuration, call’d the Association.—Ah, Rogue, what will you say when these shall be made publick?
SirTim. Say, Sir? why, I’ll deny it, Sir; for what Jury will believe so wise a Magistrate as I cou’d communicate such Secrets to such as you? I’ll say you forg’d ‘em, and put ‘em in—or print every one of ‘em, and own ‘em, as long as they were writ and publisht in London, Sir. Come, come, the World is not so bad yet, but a Man may speak Treason within the Walls of London, thanks be to God, and honest conscientious Jury-Men. And as for the Money, Gentlemen, take notice you rob the Party.
Wild. Come, come, carry off the Booty, and prithee remove that Rubbish of the Nation out of the way—Your servant, Sir.—So, away with it toDresswell’sLodgings, his Coach is at the Door ready to receive it.
[They carry off SirTimothy,and others take up the Bags, and go out with ‘em.
Dres. Well, you are sure you have all you came for?
Wild. All’s safe, my Lads, the Writings all—
Fop. Come, let’s away then.
Wild. Away? what meanest thou? is there not a Lord to be found bound in his Bed, and all his People? Come, come, dispatch, and each Man bind his Fellow.
Fop. We had better follow the Baggage, Captain.
Wild. No, we have not done so ill, but we dare shew our Faces. Come, come, to binding.
Fop. And who shall bind the last Man?
Wild. Honest Laboir, d’ye hear, Sirrah? you get drunk and lay in your Clothes under the Hall-Table; d’ye hear me? Look to’t, ye Rascal, and carry things discreetly, or you’ll be hang’d, that’s certain. [Ex. Wild,andDres.
Fop. So, now will I i’th’ Morning toCharlot, and give her such a Character of her Love, as if she have Resentment, makes her mine. [ExitFop.
SirTim. [calls within.] Ho, Jenkins, Roger, Simon! Where are theseRogues? none left alive to come to my Assistance? So ho, ho, ho, ho!Rascals, Sluggards, Drones! so ho, ho, ho!
Lab. So, now’s my Cue—and stay, I am not yet sober. [Puts himself into a drunken Posture.
SirTim. Dogs, Rogues, none hear me? Fire, fire, fire!
Lab. Water, water, I say; for I am damnable dry.
SirTim. Hah, who’s there?
Lab. What doleful Voice is that?
SirTim. What art thou, Friend or Foe? [In a doleful Tone.
Lab. Very direful—why, what the Devil art thou?
SirTim. If thou’rt a Friend, approach, approach the wretched.
Lab. Wretched! What art thou, Ghost, Hobgoblin, or walking Spirit? [Reeling in with a Lanthorn in’s Hand.
SirTim. Oh, neither, neither, but mere Mortal, SirTimothy Treat-all, robb’d and bound. [Coming out led byLaboir.
Lab. How, our generous Host!
SirTim. How, one of my Lord’s Servants! Alas, alas, how cam’st thou to escape?
Lab. E’en by miracle, Sir; by being drunk, and falling asleep under the Hall-Table with your Worship’s Dog Tory, till just now a Dream of Small-beer wak’d me: and crawling from my Kennel to secure the black Jack, I stumbled upon this Lanthorn, which I took for one, till I found a Candle in’t, which helps me to serve your Worship. [Goes to unbind his Hands.
SirTim. Hold, hold, I say; for I scorn to be so uncivil to be unbound before his Lordship: therefore run, Friend, to his Honour’s Chamber, for he, alas, is confined too.
Lab. What, and leave his worthy Friend in distress? by no means, Sir.
SirTim. Well then, come, let’s to my Lord, whom if I be not asham’d to look in the Face, I am an errant Sarazen.
[Exit SirTim.andLab.
He is discovered sitting in a Chair bound, his Valet bound by him; to them SirTimothyandLaboir.
Wild. Peace, Sirrah, for sure I hear some coming—Villains, Rogues! I care not for my self, but for the good pious Alderman. [SirTim.as listening.
SirTim. Wonderful Goodness, for me! Alas, my Lord, this sight will break my Heart. [Weeps.
Wild. SirTimothysafe! nay, then I do forgive ‘em.
SirTim. Alas, my Lord, I’ve heard of your rigid Fate.
Wild. It is my Custom, Sir, to pray an Hour or two in my Chamber, before I go to Bed; and having pray’d that drousy Slave asleep, the Thieves broke in upon us unawares, I having laid my Sword aside.
SirTim. Oh, Heavens, at his Prayers! damn’d Ruffians, and wou’d they not stay till you had said your Prayers?
Wild. By no Persuasion—Can you not guess who they shou’d be, Sir?
SirTim. Oh, some damn’d Tory-rory Rogues, you may be sure, to rob aMan at his Prayers! why, what will this World come to?
Wild. Let us not talk, Sir, but pursue ‘em.[Offering to go.
SirTim. Pursue ‘em! alas, they’re past our reach by this time.
Wild. Oh, Sir, they are nearer than you imagine: some that know each Corner of your House, I’ll warrant.
SirTim. Think ye so, my Lord? ay, this comes of keeping open House; which makes so many shut up their Doors at Dinner-time.
EnterDresswell.
Dres. Good Morrow, Gentlemen! what, was the Devil broke loose to night?
SirTim. Only some of his Imps, Sir, saucy Varlets, insupportableRascals—But well, my Lord, now I have seen your Lordship at liberty,I’ll leave you to your rest, and go see what Harm this night’s Work hasdone.
Wild. I have a little Business, Sir, and will take this time to dispatch it in; my Servants shall to Bed, though ‘tis already day—I’ll wait on you at Dinner.
SirTim. Your time; my House and all I have is yours; and so I take my Leave of your Lordship. [Ex. SirTim.
Wild. Now for my angry Maid, the youngCharlot; ’.will be a Task to soften her to Peace; She is all new and gay, young as the Morn, Blushing as tender Rose-Buds on their Stalks, Pregnant with Sweets, for the next Sun to ravish. —Come, thou shalt along with me, I’ll trust thy Friendship.
[Exeunt.
She is discovered dressing, withBetty.
Dia. Methinks I’m up as early as if I had a mind to what I’m going to do, marry this rich old Coxcomb.
Bet. And you do well to lose no time.
Dia. Ah, Betty, and cou’d thy Prudence prefer an old Husband, because rich, before so young, so handsom, and so soft a Lover asWilding?
Bet. I know not that, Madam; but I verily believe the way to keep your young Lover, is to marry this old one: for what Youth and Beauty cannot purchase, oney and Quality may.
Dia. Ay, but to be oblig’d to lie with such a Beast; ay, there’s theDevil,Betty. Ah, when I find the difference of their Embraces,The soft dear Arms ofWildinground my Neck.From those cold feeble ones of this old Dotard;When I shall meet, instead ofTom’swarm kisses,A hollow Pair of thin blue wither’d Lips,Trembling with Palsy, stinking with Disease,By Age and Nature barricado’d upWith a kind Nose and Chin;What Fancy or what Thought can make my Hours supportable?
Bet. What? why six thousand Pounds a Year, Mistress. He’ll quickly die, and leave you rich, and then do what you please.
Dia. Die! no, he’s too temperate—Sure these Whigs,Betty, believe there’s no Heaven, they take such care to live so long in this World—No, he’ll out-live me. [Sighs.
Bet. In Grace a God he may be hang’d first, Mistress—Ha, one knocks, and I believe ‘tis he. [She goes to open the Door.
Dia. I cannot bring my Heart to like this Business; One sight of my dearTomwou’d turn the Scale.
Bet. Who’s there?
Enter SirTim.joyful; Dian.walks away.
SirTim. ‘Tis I, impatient I, who with the Sun have welcom’d in theDay;This happy Day to be inroll’dIn Rubrick Letters and in Gold.—Hum, I am profoundly eloquent this Morning. [Aside.—Fair Excellence, I approach—[Going toward her.
Dia. Like Physick in a Morning next one’s Heart; [Aside. Which, though it be necessary, is most filthy loathsom. [Going from him.
SirTim. What, do you turn away, bright Sun of Beauty?—Hum, I’m much upon the Suns and Days this Morning.
Dia. It will not down.[Turning on him, looks on him, and turns away.
SirTim. Alas, ye Gods, am I despis’d and scorn’d?Did I for this ponder upon the Question,Whether I should be King or Alderman?[Heroickly.
Dia. If I must marry him, give him Patience to endure the Cuckolding, good Heaven. [Aside.
SirTim. Heaven! did she name Heaven, Betty?
Bet. I think she did, Sir.
SirTim. I do not like that: What need has she to think of Heaven upon her Wedding-day?
Dia. Marriage is a sort of Hanging, Sir; and I was only making a short Prayer before Execution.
SirTim. Oh, is that all? Come, come, we’ll let that alone till we’re abed, that we have nothing else to do. [Takes her Hand.
Dia. Not much, I dare swear.
SirTim. And let us, Fair one, haste; the Parson stays; besides, that heap of Scandal may prevent us—I mean, my Nephew.
Dia. A Pox upon him now for namingWilding. [Weeps.
SirTim. How, weep at naming my ungracious Nephew? Nay, then I am provok’d—Look on this Head, this wise and Reverend Head; I’d have ye know, it has been taken measure on to fit it to a Crown, d’ye see.
Dia. A Halter rather. [Aside.
SirTim. Ay, and it fits it too: and am I slighted, I that shall receive Billet-Doux from Infanta’s? ‘tis most uncivil and impolitick.
Dia. I hope he’s mad, and then I reign alone. [Aside.Pardon me, Sir, that parting Tear I shed indeed at namingWilding,Of whom my foolish Heart has now ta’en leave,And from this Moment is intirely yours.
[Gives him her Hand, they go out followed byBetty.
EnterCharlot,led byFoppington,follow’d by Mrs. Clacket.
Char. Stay, my Heart misgives me, I shall be undone. —Ah, whither was I going? [Pulls her Hand fromFop.
Fop. Do, stay till the News arrives that he is married to her that had his Company to night, my LadyGalliard.
Char. Oh! Take heed lest you sin doubly, Sir.
Fop. By Heaven, ‘tis true, he past the Night with her.
Char. All night! what cou’d they find to do?
Mrs.Clack. A very proper Question; I’ll warrant you they were not idle, Madam.
Char. Oh, no; they lookt and lov’d and vow’d and lov’d, and swore eternal Friendship—Haste, haste, and lead me to the Church, the Altar; I’ll put it past my Power to love him more.
Fop. Oh, how you charm me! [Takes her by the Hand.
Char. Yet what art thou? a Stranger to my Heart. Wherefore, ah why, on what occasion shou’d I?
Mrs.Clack. Acquaintance, ‘tis enough, I know him, Madam, and I hope my Word will be taken for a greater matter in the City: In troth you’re beholden to the Gentleman for marrying you, your Reputation’s gone.
Char. How, am I not honest then?
Mrs.Clack. Marry, Heaven forbid! But who that knows you have been a single Hour inWilding’sHands, wou’d not swear you have lost your Maidenhead? And back again I’m sure you dare not go unmarried; that wou’d be a fine History to be sung to your eternal Fame in a Ballad.
Fop. Right; and you seeWildinghas left you for the Widow, to whom perhaps you’ll shortly hear he’s married.
Char. Oh, you trifle, Sir; lead on.
[They going out, meet SirAnthonywith Musick: they return.
SirAnth. Come, come, Gentlemen, this is the House, and this the Window belonging to my Lady’s Bed-chamber: Come, come, let’s have some neat, soft, brisk, languishing, sprightly Air now.
Fop. Old Meriwill—how shall I pass by him! [Stand by.
SirAnth. So, here’s Company too; ‘tis very well—Not have the Boy?I’ll warrant this does the Business—Come, come, screw up yourChitterling.[They play.—Hold, hold a little—Good morrow, my LadyGalliard.—Give your Ladyship Joy.
Char. What do I hear, my LadyGalliardjoy’d?
Fop. How, married her already?
Char. Oh, yes, he has. Lovely and false, hast thou deceiv’d my Faith?
Mrs.Clack. Oh, Heavens, Mr.Foppington, she faints.—ah me!
[They hold her, Musick plays. EnterWildingandDresswell,disguis’d as before.
Wild. Ah, Musick atGalliard’sDoor!
SirAnth. Good morrow, SirCharles Meriwill: give your Worship and your fair Lady Joy.
Wild. Hah, Meriwill married the Widow!
Dres. No matter; prithee advance, and mind thy own Affairs.
Wild. Advance, and not inquire the meaning on’t! Bid me not eat, when Appetite invites me; Not draw, when branded with the Name of Coward; Nor love, when Youth and Beauty meet my Eyes— Hah!— [Sees SirCharlescome into the Balcony undrest.
SirChar. Good morrow, Uncle. Gentlemen, I thank ye: Here, drink the King’s Health, with my Royal Master’s the Duke. [Gives ‘em Money.
Fid. Heaven bless your Honour, and your virtuous Bride.
Fop. Wilding! undone. [SheltersCharlot,that she may not seeWilding.
Wild. Death and the Devil, Meriwill above!
SirAnth. Ah, the Boy’s Rival here! By George, here may be breathing this Morning—No matter, here’s two to two; come, Gentlemen, you must in. [Thrusts the Musick in, and goes in.
Dres. Is’t not what you expected? nay, what you wisht?
Wild. What then? it comes too suddenly upon me—E’er my last Kiss was cold upon her Lips,Before the pantings of her Breast were laid,Rais’d by her joys with me; Oh, damn’d deluding Woman!
Dres. Be wise, and do not ruin where you love.
Wild. Nay, if thou com’st to reasoning, thou hast lost me. [Breaks from him, and runs in.
Char. I say ‘twasWilding’sVoice, and I will follow it.
Fop. How, Madam, wou’d you after him?
Char. Nay, force me not; by Heaven, I’ll cry a Rape, Unless you let me go—Not after him! Yes, to the infernal Shades—Unhand me, Sir.
Fop. How, Madam, have you then design’d my Ruin?
Char. Oh, trust me, Sir, I am a Maid of Honour. [Runs in afterWild.
Mrs.Clack. So; a Murrain of your Projects, we’re all undone now: For my part I’ll e’en after her, and deny to have any hand in the Business. [Goes in.
Fop. Damn all ill Luck, was ever Man thus Fortune-bit, that he shou’d cross my Hopes just in the nick? But shall I lose her thus? No, Gad, I’ll after her; and come the worst, I have an Impudence shall out-face a Middlesex Jury, and out-swear a Discoverer. [Goes in.
Enter LadyGalliard,pursued by SirCharles,and Footman.
L.Gal. Sirrah, run to my Lord Mayor’s, and require some of his Officers to assist me instantly; and d’ye hear, Rascal, bar up my Doors, and let none of his mad Crew enter. [To the Footman who is going.
SirChar. William, you may stay, William.
L.Gal. I say, obey me, Sirrah.
SirChar. Sirrah, I say—know your Lord and Master.
Will. I shall, Sir. [Goes out.
L.Gal. Was ever Woman teaz’d thus? pursue me not.
SirChar. You are mistaken, I’m disobedient grown,Since we became one Family; and whenI’ve us’d you thus a Week or two, you willGrow weary of this peevish fooling.
L.Gal. Malicious thing, I wo’not, I am resolv’d I’ll tire thee out merely in spite, to have the better of thee.
SirChar. I’m as resolv’d as you, and do your worst,For I’m resolv’d never to quit thy House.
L.Gal. But, Malice, there are Officers i’th’ City, that will not see me us’d thus, and will be here anon.
SirChar. Magistrates! why, they shall be welcome, if they be honest and loyal; if not, they may be hang’d in Heaven’s good time.
L.Gal. Are you resolv’d to be thus obstinate? Fully resolv’d to make this way your Conquest?
SirChar. Most certainly, I’ll keep you honest to your Word, my Dear—I’ve Witness—
L.Gal. You will?
SirChar. You’ll find it so.
L.Gal. Then know, if thou darest marry me, I will so plague thee, be so reveng’d for all those Tricks thou hast play’d me— Dost thou not dread the Vengeance Wives can take?
SirChar. Not at all: I’ll trust thy Stock of Beauty with thy Wit.
L.Gal. Death, I will cuckold thee.
SirChar. Why, then I shall be free o’th’ Reverend City.
L.Gal. Then I will game without cessation, till I’ve undone thee.
SirChar. Do, that all the Fops of empty Heads and Pockets may know where to be sure of a Cully; and may they rook ye till ye lose, and fret, and chafe, and rail those youthful Eyes to sinking; watch your fair Face to pale and withered Leanness.
L.Gal. Then I will never let thee bed with me, but when I please.
SirChar. For that, see who’ll petition first, and then I’ll change for new ones every Night.
EnterWilliam.
Will. Madam, here’s Mr.Wildingat the Door, and will not be deny’d seeing you.
L.Gal. Hah,Wilding! Oh, my eternal Shame! Now thou hast done thy worst.
SirChar. Now for a Struggle ‘twixt your Love and Honour!—Yes, here’s the Bar to all my Happiness,You wou’d be left to the wide World and Love,To Infamy, to Scandal, and toWilding;But I have too much Honour in my Passion,To let you loose to ruin: Consider and be wise.
L.Gal. Oh, he has toucht my Heart too sensibly. [Aside.
SirAnth. [within.] As far as good Manners goes I’m yours;But when you press indecently to Ladies Chambers, civilQuestions ought to askt, I take it, Sir.
L.Gal. To find him here, will make him mad with Jealousy, and in theFit he’ll utter all he knows: Oh, Guilt, what art thou! [Aside.
Enter SirAnth. Wild,andDres.
Dres. Prithee, dearWilding, moderate thy Passion.
Wild. By Heaven, I will; she shall not have the Pleasure to see I am concern’d—Morrow, Widow; you are early up, you mean to thrive, I see, you’re like a Mill that grinds with every Wind.
SirChar. Hah,Wilding, this that past last Night at Sir Timothy’s for a Man of Quality? Oh, give him way,Wilding’smy Friend, my Dear, and now I’m sure I have the Advantage of him in my Love. I can forgive a hasty Word or two.
Wild. I thank thee,Charles—what, you are married then?
L.Gal. I hope you’ve no Exception to my Choice. [Scornfully.
Wild. False Woman, dost thou glory in thy Perfidy? [To her aside angrily. —Yes, Faith, I’ve many Exceptions to him— [Aloud. Had you lov’d me, you’d pitcht upon a Blockhead, Some spruce gay Fool of Fortune, and no more, Who would have taken so much Care of his own ill-favour’d Person, He shou’d have had no time to have minded yours, But left it to the Care of some fond longing Lover.
L.Gal. Death, he will tell him all! [Aside.] Oh, you are merry, Sir.
Wild. No, but thou art wondrous false, False as the Love and Joys you feign’d last Night. [In a soft Tone aside to her.
L.Gal. Oh, Sir, be tender of those treacherous Minutes.[Softly to him.—If this be all you have to say to me—[Walking away, and speaking loud.
Wild. Faith, Madam, you have us’d me scurvily, To marry, and not give me notice. [Aloud. —Curse on thee, did I only blow the Fire To warm another Lover? [To her softly aside.
L.Gal. Perjur’d—was’t not by your Advice I married? —Oh, where was then your Love? [Softly to him aside.
Wild. So soon did I advise? Didst thou invite me to the Feast of Love, To snatch away my Joys as soon as tasted? Ah, where was then you Modesty and Sense of Honour? [Aside to her in a low Tone.
L.Gal. Ay, where indeed, when you so quickly vanquisht? [Soft.—But you, I find, are come prepared to rail. [Aloud.
Wild. No, ‘twas with thee to make my last Effort against your scorn. [Shews her the Writings. And this I hop’d, when all my Vows and Love, When all my Languishments cou’d nought avail, Had made ye mine for ever. [Aloud.
Enter SirAnthony,pulling in SirTim.andDiana.
SirAnth. Morrow,Charles; Morrow to your Ladyship:Charles, bid SirTimothywelcome; I met him luckily at the Door, and am resolv’d none of my Friends shall pass this joyful Day without giving thee Joy,Charles, and drinking my Lady’s Health.
Wild. Hah, my Uncle here so early? [Aside.
SirTim. What, has your Ladyship serv’d me so? How finely I had beenmump’d now, if I had not took Heart of Grace, and shew’d your LadyshipTrick for Trick? for I have been this Morning about some such Business ofLife too, Gentlemen: I am married to this fair Lady, the Daughter andHeiress of SirNicholas Gett-all, Knight and Alderman.