Sir Pat.Oh, defend me! and what is all this to me, Sir?Sir Cred.Oh, Sir, they are the very Soul of Entertainment; and, Sir, it is the prettiest sport to hear ’em rail and haul at one another—Zoz, wou’d I were a Poet.Sir Pat.I wish you were, since you are so fond of being rail’d at.—If I were able to beat him, I would be much angry,—but Patience is a Virtue, and I will into the Country.Aside.Sir Cred.’Tis all one case to me, dear Sir,—but I should have the pleasure of railing again,cum privilegio; I love fighting with those pointless Weapons.—Zoz, Sir, you know if we Men of Quality fall out— (for you are a Knight I take it) why, there comes a Challenge upon it, and ten to one some body or other is run through the Gills; why, a Pox on’t, I say, this is very damnable, give me Poet’s Licence.—L. Fan.Take him off in pity.ToLeander.Lod.Indeed Railing is a Coin only current among the Poets, SirCredulous.Sir Pat.Oh blest Deliverance!—what a profane Wretch is here, and what a leud World we live in—OhLondon,London, how thou aboundest in Iniquity! thy young Men are debauch’d, thy Virgins defloured, and thy Matrons all turn’d Bauds! My LadyFancy, this is not Company for you, I take it, let us fly from this vexation of Spirit, on the never-failing Wings of Discretion.—Going to lead LadyFancyoff,—the LadyKnowellspeaking toIsabellaall this while.L. Kno.How! marry thee to such a Fop, say’st thou? Oh egregious!—as thou lovestLodwick, let him not know his Name, it will be dangerous, let me alone to evade it.Isab.I know his fiery Temper too well to trust him with the secret.L. Kno.Hark ye, Sir, and do you intend to do this horrible thing?—Sir Pat.What thing, my LadyKnowell?L. Kno.Why, to marry your Daughter, Sir.Sir Pat.Yes, Madam.L. Kno.To a beastly Town Fool?Monstrum horrendum!Sir Pat.To any Fool, except a Fool of your Race, of your Generation.—L. Kno.How! a Fool of my Race, my Generation! I know thou meanest my Son, thou contumelious Knight, who, let me tell thee, shall marry thy Daughterinvito te, that is, (to inform thy obtuse Understanding) in spite of thee; yes, shall marry her, though she inherits nothing but thy dull Enthusiasms, which had she been legitimate she had been possest with.Sir Pat.Oh abominable! you had best say she is none of my Daughter, and that I was a Cuckold.—L. Kno.If I should, Sir, it would not amount toScandalum Magnatum: I’ll tell thee more, thy whole Pedigree,—and yet for all this,Lodwickshall marry your Daughter, and yet I’ll have none of your Nephew.Sir Pat.Shall he so, my LadyKnowell? I shall go near to out-trick your Ladyship, for all your politick Learning. ’Tis past the Canonical Hour, as they call it, or I wou’d marry my Daughter instantly; I profess we ne’er had good days since these Canonical Fopperies came up again, mere Popish Tricks to give our Children time for Disobedience,—the next Justice wou’d ha’ serv’d turn, and have done the Business at any Hour: but Patience is a Virtue—Roger, go after Mr.Fainlove, and tell him I wou’d speak with him instantly.ExitRoger.L. Kno.Come, come, Ladies, we lose fleeting time, upon my Honour, we do; for, Madam, as I said, I have brought the Fiddles, and design to sacrifice the intire Evening to your Ladyship’s Diversion.Sir Cred.Incomparable Lady, that was well thought on; Zoz, I long to be jigging.Sir Pat.Fiddles, good Lord! why, what am I come to?—Madam, I take it, SirPatient Fancy’sLady is not a proper Person to make one at immodest Revellings, and profane Masqueradings.L. Fan.Why; ah, ’tis very true, Sir, but we oughtnot to offend a Brother that is weak, and consequently, a Sister.Sir Pat.An excellent Lady this, but she may be corrupted, ah, she may fall; I will therefore without delay, carry her from this wicked Town.L. Kno.Come, come, Gentlemen, let’s in; Mr.Fancy, you must be my Man;—SirCredulous, come, and you, sweet Sir, come, Ladies,—Nunc est saltandum, &c.Exeunt.Scene II.Changes to a Chamber.Enter SirPatientas before, LadyFancy,Wittmore,Maundy, andRogerwith things.Sir Pat.Maundy, fetch my Clothes, I’ll dress me and out of Town instantly,—persuade me not.ToWit.Roger, is the Coach ready,Roger?Rog.Yes, Sir, with four Horses.L. Fan.Out of Town! Oh, I’m undone then, there will be no hopes of ever seeingWittmore.Aside.—Maundy, oh, help me to contrive my stay, or I’m a dead Woman.—Sir, sure you cannot go and leave your Affairs in Town.Sir Pat.Affairs! what Affairs?L. Fan.Why, your Daughter’s Marriage, Sir:—and—Sir,—not, Sir, but that I desire of all things in the World the Blessing of being alone with you, far from the Noise and leud Disorders of this filthy Town.Sir Pat.Most excellent Woman! ah, thou art too good for sinful Man, and I will therefore remove thee from the Temptations of it.—Maundy, my Clothes—Mr.Fainlove, I will leaveIsabellawith my LadyFidget, my Sister, who shall to morrow see you married, to prevent farther Inconveniences.L. Fan.What shall I do?Maun.Madam, I have a Design, which considering his Spleen, must this time do our Business,—’tis—Whispers.L. Fan.I like it well, about it instantly, hah—Ex.Maundy.Alas, Sir, what ails your Face? good Heaven,—look,Roger.Sir Pat.My Face! why, what ails my Face? hah!L. Fan.See, Mr.Fainlove, oh, look on my Dear, is he not strangely alter’d?Wit.Most wonderfully.Sir Pat.Alter’d, hah—why, where, why, how alter’d?—hah, alter’d say you?Wit.Lord, how wildly he stares!Sir Pat.Hah, stare wildly!Rog.Are you not very sick, Sir?L. Fan.Sick! oh, Heavens forbid!—How does my dearest Love?Sir Pat.Methinks I feel myself not well o’th’ sudden—ah—a kind of shivering seizes all my Limbs,—and am I so much chang’d?Wit.All over, Sir, as big again as you were.L. Fan.Your Face is frightfully blown up, and your dear Eyes just starting from your Head; oh, I shall sound with the apprehension on’t.Falls intoWittmore’sArms.Sir Pat.My Head and Eyes so big, say you: oh, I’m wondrous sick o’th’ sudden,—all over say you—oh, oh—Ay, I perceive it now, my Senses fail me too.L. Fan.How, Sir, your Senses fail you?Wit.That’s a very bad sign, believe me.Sir Pat.Oh, ay, for I can neither feel nor see this mighty growth you speak of.Falls into a Chair, with great signs of Disorder.Wit.Alas, I’m sorry for that, Sir.Rog.Sure, ’tis impossible, I’ll run and fetch a Glass, Sir.Offers to go.L. Fan.Oh, stay, I wou’d not for the world he should see what a Monster he is,—and is like to be before to morrow.Aside.Rog.I’ll fit him with a Glass,—I’ll warrant ye, it shall advance our Design.ExitRoger.EnterMaundywith the Clothes, she starts.Maun.Good Heaven, what ails you, Sir?Sir Pat.Oh—oh—’tis so.Maun.Lord, how he’s swoln! see how his Stomach struts.Sir Pat.Ah, ’tis true, though I perceive it not.Maun.Not perceive it, Sir! put on your Clothes and be convinc’d,—try ’em, Sir.She pulls off his Gown, and puts on his Doublet and Coat, which come not near by a handful or more.Sir Pat.Ah, it needs not,—mercy upon me!—Falls back.I’m lost, I’m gone! Oh Man, what art thou but a Flower? I am poison’d, this talking Lady’s Breath’s infectious; methought I felt the Contagion steal into my Heart; send for my Physicians, and if I die I’ll swear she’s my Murderer: oh, see, see, how my trembling increases, oh, hold my Limbs, I die.—EnterRogerwith a magnifying Glass, shews him the Glass; he looks in it.Rog.I’ll warrant I’ll shew his Face as big as a Bushel.Aside.Sir Pat.Oh, oh,—I’m a dead Man, have me to Bed, I die away, undress me instantly, send for my Physicians, I’m poison’d, my Bowels burn, I have within anÆtna, my Brains run round, Nature within me reels.They carry him out in a Chair.Wit.And all the drunken Universe does run on Wheels, ha, ha, ha.Ah, my dear Creature, how finely thou hast brought him to his Journy’s end!L. Fan.There was no other way but this to have secur’d my Happiness with thee; there needs no more than thatyou come anon to the Garden Back-gate, where you shall find admittance;—SirPatientis like to lie alone to night.Wit.Till then ’twill be a thousand Ages.L. Fan.At Games of Love Husbands to cheat is fair,’Tis the Gallant we play with on the square.Exeunt severally.ACT III.Scene I.Scene draws offto a room in SirPatient Fancy’shouse, and discovers LadyKnowell,Isabella,Lucretia,Lodwick,Leander,Wittmore, SirCredulous, other Men and Women, as going to dance.L. Kno.Come, one Dance more, and then I think we shall have sufficiently teaz’d the Alderman, and ’twill be time to part.—SirCredulous, where’s your Mistress?Sir Cred.Within a Mile of an Oak, dear Madam, I’ll warrant you.—Well, I protest and vow, sweet Lady, you dance most nobly,—Why, you dance—like—like a—like a hasty Pudding, beforeJove.They dance some Antick, orRustick Antick.Lodwickspeaking toIsabella.SONG made by a Gentleman.Sitting by yonder River side,Partheniathus toCloecry’d,Whilst from the fair Nymph’s Eyes apaceAnother Stream o’er-flow’d her beauteous Face;Ah happy Nymph, said she, that canSo little value that false Creature, Man.Oft the perfidious things will cry,Alas they burn, they bleed, they die;But if they’re absent half a Day,Nay, let ’em be but one poor Hour away,No more they die, no more complain,But like unconstant Wretches live again.Lod.Well, have you consider’d of that Business yet,Isabella?Isab.What business?Lod.Of giving me admittance to night.Isab.And may I trust your honesty?Lod.Oh, doubt me not, my mother’s resolv’d it shall be a match between you and I, and that very consideration will secure thee: besides, who would first sully the Linen they mean to put on?Isab.Away, here’s my Mother.Enter LadyFancyandMaundy.L. Fan.Madam, I beg your pardon for my absence, the effects of my Obedience, not Will; but SirPatientis taken very ill o’th’ sudden, and I must humbly intreat your Ladyship to retire, for Rest is only essential to his Recovery.L. Kno.Congruously spoken, upon my Honour. Oh, the impudence of this Fellow your Ladyship’s Husband, to espouse so fair a Person only to make a Nurse of!L. Fan.Alas, Madam!—L. Kno.A Slave, a very Houshold Drudge.—Oh, faugh, come never grieve;—for, Madam, his Disease is nothing but Imagination, a Melancholy which arises from the Liver, Spleen, and Membrane call’dMesenterium; theArabiansname the DistemperMyrathial, and we here inEngland,Hypochondriacal Melancholy; I cou’d prescribe a most potent Remedy, but that I am loth to stir the Envy of the College.L. Fan.Really, Madam, I believe—L. Kno.But as you say, Madam, we’ll leave him to his Repose; pray do not grieve too much.Lod.Death! wou’d I had the consoling her, ’tis a charming Woman!L. Kno.Mr.Fancy, your Hand; Madam, your most faithful Servant.—Lucretia, come,Lucretia.—Your Servant, Ladies and Gentleman.L. Fan.A Devil on her, wou’d the Nimbleness of her Ladyship’s Tongue were in her Heels, she wou’d make more haste away: oh, I long for the blest minute.Lod.Isabella, shall I find admittance anon?Isab.On fair Conditions.Lod.Trust my Generosity.—Madam, your Slave.Ex.To L.Fan.gazing on her, goes out.Sir Cred.Madam, I wou’d say something of your Charms and celestial Graces, but that all Praises are as far below you, as the Moon in her Opposition is below the Sun;—and so, luscious Lady, I am yours: Now for my Serenade—Ex. all but L.Fan.andMaundy.L. Fan.Maundy, have you commanded all the Servants to bed?Maun.Yes, Madam, not a Mouse shall stir, and I have made ready the Chamber next the Garden for your Ladyship.L. Fan.Then there needs no more but that you wait forWittmore’scoming to the Garden-Gate, and take care no Lights be in the House for fear of Eyes.Maun.Madam, I understand Lovers are best by dark, and shall be diligent: the Doctor has secur’d SirPatientby a sleeping Pill, and you are only to expect your approaching Happiness.Exeunt.Scene II.LadyKnowell’sChamber.Enter LadyKnowellandLeander.L. Kno.Leander, raise your Soul above that little trifleLucretia;—cannot you guess what better Fate attends you? fy, how dull you are! must I instruct you in plain right-down Terms? and tell you, that I propose you Master of my Fortune.—Now possibly you understand me.EnterLucretia, and peeps.Lean.I wish I did not, Madam,Unless I’d Virtue to deserve the Bounty;I havea thousand FaultsDissimulation hides,Inconstant, wild, debauch’d as Youth can make me.Lucr.All that will not do your Business.Aside.L. Kno.Yet you wou’d have my Daughter take you with all these Faults; they’re Virtues there, but to the name of Mother, they all turn retrograde: I can endure a ManAs wild and as inconstant as she can;I have a Fortune too that can support that Humour,That ofLucretiadoes depend on me,And when I please is nothing;I’m far from Age or Wrinkles, can be courtedBy Men, as gay and youthful as a new Summer’s Morn,Beauteous as the first Blossoms of the Spring,Before the common Sun has kiss’d their Sweets away,If with salacious Appetites I lov’d.Lean.Faith, Madam, I cou’d wish—L. Kno.That I were but Fifteen: butIf there be inequality in Years,There is so too in Fortunes, that might addA Lustre to my Eyes, Charms to my Person,And make me fair asVenus, young asHebe.Lean.Madam, you have enough to engage any unconquer’d Heart; but ’twas, I thought, with your allowance I dispos’d of mine, and ’tis a Heart that knows not how to change.L. Kno.Then ’tis a foolish unambitious Heart, unworthy of the Elevation it has not glorious Pride enough to aim at:—Farewel, Sir,—when you are wiser, you may find admittance.Goes out.Lean.Stay, Madam—EnterLucretia.Lucr.For what? to hear your Penitence! Forgive me, Madam, I will be a Villain, forget my Vows of Love, made toLucretia.And sacrifice both her, and those to Interest.Oh, how I hate this whining and dissembling!Lean.Do, triumph o’er a wretched Man,Lucretia.Lucr.How! wretched in loving me so entirely, or that you cannot marry my Mother, and be Master of her mighty Fortune? ’Tis a Temptation indeed so between Love and Interest, hang me if ever I saw so simple a Look as you put on when my Mother made love to you.Lean.You may easily guess the Confusion of a Man in my Circumstances, to be languishing for the lov’d Daughter, and pursu’d by the hated Mother, whom if I refuse will ruin all my hopes of thee.Lucr.Refuse her! I hope you have more Wit.Lean.Lucretia, cou’d she make a Monarch of me, I cou’d not marry her.Lucr.And you wou’d be so wise to tell her so?Lean.I wou’d no more abuse her, than I cou’d love her.Lucr.Yet that last must be done.Lean.How!Lucr.Dost believe me so wicked to think I mean in earnest? No, tell her a fine Story of Love and Liking, gaze on her, kiss her Hands, and sigh, commend her Face and Shape, swear she’s the Miracle of the Age for Wit, cry up her Learning, vow you were an Ass not to be sensible of her Perfections all this while; what a Coxcomb, to doat upon the Daughter when such Charms were so visible in the Mother? Faith, she’ll believe all this.Lean.It may be so, but what will all this serve for?Lucr.To give us time and opportunity to deceive her, or I’m mistaken.Lean.I cannot teach my Tongue so much Deceit.Lucr.You may be a Fool, and cry, Indeed forsooth I cannot love, for alas I have lost my Heart, and am unworthy of your proffer’d Blessings—do, and see her marry mein spite tothis FopEasy, this Knight of Nonsense: no, no, dissemble me handsomely and like a Gentleman, and then expect your good Fortune.EnterAntick.Ant.Madam, your Mother’s coming.Lucr.Away then, she must not see us together, she thinks you gone.Lean.But must I carry off no Comfort with me?Lucr.Will you expose me to the incens’d Jealousy of a Parent? go, or I shall hate ye.Thrusts him out.Scene III.A Garden.EnterMaundyby dark: Opens the Garden-Door.Maun.Now am I return’d to my old Trade again, fetch and carry my Lady’s Lovers; I was afraid when she had been married, these Night-works wou’d have ended; but to say truth, there’s a Conscience to be used in all things, and there’s no reason she should languish with an old Man when a Young Man may be had.—The Door opens, he’s come.—EnterLodwick.I see you’re a punctual Lover, Sir, pray follow me as softly as you can.Lod.This is some one whom I perceiveIsabellahas made the Confident to our Amours.Exeunt.Scene IV.Draws off, and discovers L.Fancyin her Night-gown, in a Chamber as by the dark.L. Fan.Oh, the agreeable Confusion of a Lover high with expectation of the approaching Bliss! What Tremblings between Joy and Fear possess me? All my whole Soul is taken up withWittmore; I’ve no Ideas, no Thoughts but ofWittmore, and sure my Tongue can speak no other Language, but his Name.—Who’s there?EnterMaundyleadingLodwick.Maun.Madam, ’tis I, and your expected Lover here—I put him into your hands, and will wait your Commands in the next Chamber.ExitMaun.Lod.Where are you, my dearest Creature?L. Fan.Here—give me your Hand, I’ll lead you to those Joys we both so long have sigh’d for.Lod.Hah! to Joys; sure she doth but dally with me.Aside.L. Fan.Why come you not on, my dear?Lod.And yet, why this Admission, and is th’ dark too, if she design’d me none but virtuous Favours?—What damn’d Temptation’s this?L. Fan.Are you bewitch’d? what is’t that frights you?Lod.I’m fix’d: Death, was ever such a Lover?Just ready for the highest Joys of Love,And like a bashful Girl restrain’d by FearOf an insuing Infamy—I hate to cuckold my own Expectations.L. Fan.Heavens! what can you mean?Lod.Death, what’s this?—sure ’tis not Virtue in me,—Pray Heaven it be not Impotence!—Where got I this damn’d Honesty, which I never found my self master of till now!—why shou’d it seize me when I had least need on’t?L. Fan.What ails you? are you mad?—we are safe, and free as Winds let loose to ruffle all the Groves; what is’t delays you then? Soft.Lod.Pox o’ this thought of Wife, the very Name destroys my appetite.Oh, with what Vigour I could deal my LoveTo some fair leud unknown,To whom I’d never made a serious Vow!L. Fan.Tell me the Mystery of this sudden Coldness: have I kept my Husband in Town for this? Nay, persuaded him to be very sick to serve our purpose, and am I thus rewarded—ungrateful Man!Lod.Hah,—’tis notIsabella’sVoice,—your Husband, say you?Takes hold greedily of her Hand.L. Fan.Is safe, from any fear of interrupting us.Come—these Delays do ill consist with LoveAnd our Desires; at least if they are equal.Lod.Death, ’tis the charming Mother!What lucky Star directed me to night?O my fair Dissembler, let us hasteTo pay the mighty Tributes due to Love.L. Fan.Follow me then with careful Silence,—forIsabella’sChamber joins to this, and she may hear us.Lod.Not Flowers grow, nor smooth Streams glide away,Not absent Lovers sigh, nor breaks the Day,More silently than I’ll those Joys receive,Which Love and Darkness do conspire to give.Exeunt.Scene V.Changes again to a Garden.EnterIsabellaandFannyin their Night-gowns.Isab.Well, I have no mind to let this dear mad DevilLodwickin to night.Fan.Why, Sister, this is not the first Venture you have made of this kind, at this Hour, and in this Place; these Arbours were they tell-tales, cou’d discover many pretty stories of your Loves, and do you think they’ll be less faithful now? pray trust them once again. Oh, I do so love to hear Mr.Lodwickprotest, and vow, and swear, and dissemble, and when you don’t believe him, rail at you,—avads, ’tis the prettiest Man—Isab.I have a strange apprehension of being surpriz’d to night.Fan.I’ll warrant you, I’ll sit on yon Bank of Pinks, and when I hear a Noise I’ll come and tell you; soLodwickmay slip out at the back Gate, and we may be walking up and down as if we meant no harm.Isab.You’ll grow very expert in the Arts of Love,Fanny.Fan.When I am big enough I shall do my Endeavour, for I have heard you say, Women were born to no otherend than to love: And ’tis fit I should learn to live and die in my calling.—Come, open the Gate, or you’ll repent it, we shall have my Father marry you within a day or two to that ugly Man that speaks hard Words,—avads, I can’t abide him.Isab.What Noise is that?Fan.Why, ’tis Mr.Lodwickat the Garden-Door;—let him in whilst I’ll to my flowry Bank, and stand Centinel.—Runs off.Isabellaopens the Gate.EnterWittmore.Wit.Who’s there?Isab.Speak low, who shou’d it be but the kind Fool her self, who can deny you nothing but what you dare not take?Wit.Not take! what’s that? hast thou reserves in store?—Oh, come and let me lead thee to thy Bed,Or seat thee on some Bank of softer Flowers,Where I may rifle all thy unknown Store.Isab.How! surely you’re not in earnest?—Do you love me?Wit.Love thee! by thy dear self, all that my Soul adores,I’m all impatient Flame! all over Love!—You do not use to doubt, but since you do,Come, and I’ll satisfy thy obliging Fears,And give thee Proofs how much my Soul is thine,I’ll breathe it all anew into thy Bosom.—Oh, thou art fit for the transporting Play,All loose and wanton, like the Queen of LoveWhen she descends to meet the Youth in Shades.Isab.And are you, Sir, in earnest? can it be?Wit.That question was severe, what means my Love?What pretty Art is this to blow my Flame?Are you not mine? did we not meet t’enjoy?I came not with more vigorous eager Haste,When our first Sacrifice to Love we paid,Than to perform that Ceremony now.Come do not let the Sacred Fire burn out,Which only was prepar’d for Love’s rich Altar,And this is the divine, dark, silent Minute—Goes to lead her off.Isab.Hold, Ravisher, and know this saucy PassionHas render’d back your Interest. Now I hate ye,And my Obedience to my Father’s WillShall marry me toFainlove, and I’ll despise ye.Flings from him.Wit.Hah!Isabella!Death, I have made sweet work,—stay, gentle Maid,—she’ll ruin all if she go:—stay—she knew me, and cunningly drew me to this Discovery; I’ll after her and undeceive her.Runs after her.A confused Noise of the Serenade, theScene VIdraws off to LadyFancy’sAnti-chamber.EnterIsabellagroping as in the dark.Isab.Pray Heaven I get undiscover’d to my Chamber, where I’ll make Vows against this perjured Man; hah, sure he follows still; no Wood-Nymph ever fled before a Satyr, with half that trembling haste I flew fromLodwick.—Oh, he has lost his Virtue, and undone me.Goes out groping, and the noise of Serenade again.Scene VII.Changes to LadyFancy’sBed-chamber, discovers her as before;Lodwickas just risen in Disorder from the Bed, buttoning himself, and setting himself in order; and Noise at the Door of unlatching it.EnterIsabellagroping, SirPatientwithout.L. Fan.It is this Door that open’d, and which I thought I had secur’d.Sir Pat.Within.Oh, insupportable, abominable, and not to be indur’d!Isab.Hah, my Father! I’m discover’d and pursu’d,—grant me to find the Bed.L. Fan.Heavens! ’twas my Husband’s Voice, sure we’re betray’d. It must be so, for what Devil but that of Jealousy cou’d raise him at this late hour?Isab.Hah, where am I, and who is’t that speaks—To her self.Lod.So, he must know that I have made a Cuckold of him.Aside.Sir Pat.Within.Call up my Men, the Coachman, Groom, and Butler, the Footmen, Cook, and Gardiner; bid ’em all rise and arm, with long Staff, Spade and Pitchfork, and sally out upon the Wicked.Lod.S’heart! what a Death shall I die:—is there no place of safety hereabouts—for there is no resisting these unmerciful Weapons.Isab.A Man’s Voice!L. Fan.I know of none, nor how to prevent yourDiscovery.Sir Pat.Within.Oh, oh, lead me forward, I’ll lie here on the Garden-side, out of the hearing of this Hellish Noise.L. Fan.Hah, Noise!—what means he?Lod.Nay, I know not, is there no escaping?—Isab.Who can they be that talk thus? sure I have mistook my Chamber.L. Fan.Oh, he’s coming in—I’m ruin’d; what shall we do? here—get into the Bed—and cover your self with the Clothes—quickly—oh, my Confusion will betray me.Lodwickgets into the Bed,Isabellahides behind the Curtain very near to him.Enter SirPatient, led byNurseandMaundy, with Lights.Maun.Pray go back, Sir, my poor Lady will be frighted out of her Wits at this danger you put your self into, the Noise shall be still’d.L. Fan.Oh, what’s the matter with my Love? what, do you mean to murder him? oh, lead him instantly back to his Bed.Sir Pat.Oh, oh, no, I’ll lie here,—put me to bed, oh, I faint,—my Chamber’s possest with twenty thousand Evil Spirits.L. Fan.Possest! what sickly Fancy’s this?Sir Pat.Ah, the House is beset, surrounded and confounded with profane tinkling, with Popish Horn-Pipes, and Jesuitical Cymbals, more Antichristian and Abominable than Organs, or Anthems.Nurse.Yea verily, and surely it is the spawn of Cathedral Instruments plaid on by Babylonish Minstrels, only to disturb the Brethren.Sir Pat.Ay, ’tis so, call up my Servants, and let them be first chastiz’d and then hang’d; accuse ’em forFrenchPapishes, that had a design to fire the City, or any thing:—oh, I shall die—lead me gently to this Bed.L. Fan.To hinder him will discover all:—stay, Sir.—Sir Pat.Hah, my Lady turn’d rebellious!—put me to Bed I say;—Throws himself forward to the Bed.—hah—what’s here?—what are thou,—a Man,—hah, a Man, Treason! betray’d! my Bed’s defil’d, my Lady polluted, and I am cornuted; oh thou vile Serpent of my Bosom!She stands with her Face towards the Stage in signs of fear.Isab.A Man, and in my virtuous Lady Mother’s Chamber! how fortunate was I to light on this discovery!L. Fan.Well, Sir, since you have seen him, I beseech you for my sake, Dear, pardon him this one time.Coakesing him.Sir Pat.Thou beg his Pardon! Oh, was ever heard such Impudence!L. Fan.Indeed, my Love, he is to blame; but we that are judicious should bear with the Frailities of Youth.Sir Pat.Oh insupportable Audacity!—what canst thou say, false Woman?L. Fan.Truly not much in his Defence, my Dear.Isab.Oh cunning Devil!—L. Fan.But, Sir, to hide the weakness of your Daughter, I have a little strain’d my Modesty.—Isab.Heavens! what says she?—L. Fan.’TisIsabella’sLover, Sir, whom I’ve conceal’d.Lod.A good hint to save both our Credits.Sir Pat.How, Mr.Fainlovemean you?Lodwickrises and comes a little more forward,Isabelladoes the like, till both meet at the feet of the Bed, and start,Lodwicklooking simply.L. Fan.Ay, my dear, Mr.Fainlove.Lod.Isabellahere! must she know too what a fine inconstant Dog I am?—Isab.Lodwick!and in my Mother’s Chamber! may I believe my Eyes!Sir Pat.But how got he hither?—tell me that: oh Youth, Youth, to what degree of Wickedness art thou arriv’d?L. Fan.She appointed him to come this Night, Sir, and he going to her Chamber, by mistake came into mine, it being the next to her’s.Maun.But, Lord, Sir, had you heard how my Lady school’d him, whilst I ran down to fetch a Light!Lod.Now does my Conscience tell me, I am a damn’d Villain.—Aside, looking pitifully onIsabella.L. Fan.But the poor Man presently perceiv’d his mistake, and beg’d my pardon in such feeling Terms—that I vow I had not the heart to deny it him.Isab.Oh Traytor! wou’d thou hadst been that Ravisher I took thee for, rather than such a Villain—false! and with my Mother too!L. Fan.And just then, Sir, you came to the Door, and lest you shou’d see him, intreated me to hide him from your Anger,—the Offence is not so heinous, Sir, considering he is so soon to marry her.Sir Pat.Well, Sir, and what have you to say in your Defence?—hah, how, Mr.Knowell,—worse and worse,—why, how came you hither, Sir? hah.—L. Fan.NotWittmore! oh, I am ruin’d and betray’d.Falls almost in a swoon.Sir Pat.Hah,Isabellahere too!Isab.Yes, Sir, to justify her Innocence.Sir Pat.Hah! Innocence! and justify! take her away; go out of my sight, thou Limb of Satan,—take her away, I say, I’ll talk with you to morrow, Lady Finetricks—I will.—Isab.—And I’ll know before I sleep, the mystery of all this, and who ’twas this faithless Man sent in his room to deceive me in the Garden.Goes out.Lod.A plague of all ill-luck—how the Devil came she hither? I must follow and reconcile her.Going out, SirPatientstays him.Sir Pat.Nay, Sir, we must not part so till I have known the truth of this Business, I take it.Lod.Truth, Sir! oh, all that your fair Lady has said, Sir; I must confess her Eyes have wounded me enough with Anger, you need not add more to my Shame.—L. Fan.Some little comfort yet, that he prov’d indeed to beIsabella’sLover: Oh, that I should mistake so unluckily!Aside.Sir Pat.Why, I thought it had been Mr.Fainlove.L. Fan.By all that’s good, and so did I.Lod.I know you did, Madam, or you had not been so kind to me: Your Servant, dear Madam.—Going, SirPatientstays him.L. Fan.Pray, Sir, let him go; oh, how I abominate the sight of a Man that cou’d be so wicked as he has been!Sir Pat.Ha,—good Lady, excellent Woman: well, Sir, for my Lady’s sake I’ll let you pass with this, but if I catch you here again, I shall spoil your Intrigues, Sir, marry, shall I, and so rest ye satisfied, Sir.—Lod.At this time, I am, Sir—Madam, a thousand Blessings on you for this Goodness.L. Fan.Ten thousand Curses upon thee,—go, boast the Ruin you have made.Aside toLod.Sir Pat.Come, no more Anger now, my Lady; the Gentleman’s sorry you see, I’ll marry my pert Huswife to morrow for this.—Maundy, see the Gentleman safe out:—ah, put me to Bed; ah, this Night’s Work will kill me, ah, ah.ExeuntLodwickandMaundy.The Scene draws over SirPatientand Lady: draws again and discoversScene VIII.The Garden,Wittmore,Fanny, andIsabella.Isab.How, Mr.Fainlove, it cannot be.Fan.Indeed, Sister, ’tis the same, for all he talks so; and he told me his coming was but to try your Virtue only.EnterLodwickandMaundyas passing over, but stand.Isab.ThatFainlove! whom I am so soon to marry! and but this day courted me in another Dialect!Wit.That was my Policy, Madam, to pass upon your Father with. But I’m a Man that knows the value of the Fair, and saw Charms of Beauty and of Wit in you, that taught me to know the way to your Heart was to appear my self, which now I do. Why did you leave me so unkindly but now?Lod.Hah, what’s this? whilst I was grafting Horns on another’s Head, some kind Friend was doing that good Office for me.Maun.Sure ’tisWittmore!—oh that Dissembler—this was his Plot upon my Lady, to gain time withIsabella.Aside.Wit.And being so near my Happiness, can you blame me, if I made a trial whether your Virtue were agreeable to your Beauty, great, and to be equally ador’d?Lod.Death, I’ve heard enough to forfeit all my Patience!—Draw, Sir, and make a trial of your Courage too.—Wit.Hah, what desperate Fool art thou?Draws.Lod.One that will see thee fairly damn’d, e’er yield his Interest up inIsabella—oh thou false Woman!They fight out,Isabella,Fanny, andMaundyrun off.Scene IX.Changes to the long Street, a Pageant of an Elephant coming from the farther end with SirCredulouson it, and several others playing on strange confused Instruments.Sir Cred.This sure is extraordinary, or the Devil’s in’t, and I’ll ne’er trust Serenade more.Come forward, and all play again.—Hold, hold, now for the Song, which because I wou’d have most deliciously and melodiously sung, I’ll sing my self; look ye,—hum—hum.—SirCredulousshould have sung.
Sir Pat.Oh, defend me! and what is all this to me, Sir?
Sir Cred.Oh, Sir, they are the very Soul of Entertainment; and, Sir, it is the prettiest sport to hear ’em rail and haul at one another—Zoz, wou’d I were a Poet.
Sir Pat.I wish you were, since you are so fond of being rail’d at.—If I were able to beat him, I would be much angry,—but Patience is a Virtue, and I will into the Country.Aside.
Sir Cred.’Tis all one case to me, dear Sir,—but I should have the pleasure of railing again,cum privilegio; I love fighting with those pointless Weapons.—Zoz, Sir, you know if we Men of Quality fall out— (for you are a Knight I take it) why, there comes a Challenge upon it, and ten to one some body or other is run through the Gills; why, a Pox on’t, I say, this is very damnable, give me Poet’s Licence.—
L. Fan.Take him off in pity.ToLeander.
Lod.Indeed Railing is a Coin only current among the Poets, SirCredulous.
Sir Pat.Oh blest Deliverance!—what a profane Wretch is here, and what a leud World we live in—OhLondon,London, how thou aboundest in Iniquity! thy young Men are debauch’d, thy Virgins defloured, and thy Matrons all turn’d Bauds! My LadyFancy, this is not Company for you, I take it, let us fly from this vexation of Spirit, on the never-failing Wings of Discretion.—Going to lead LadyFancyoff,—the LadyKnowellspeaking toIsabellaall this while.
L. Kno.How! marry thee to such a Fop, say’st thou? Oh egregious!—as thou lovestLodwick, let him not know his Name, it will be dangerous, let me alone to evade it.
Isab.I know his fiery Temper too well to trust him with the secret.
L. Kno.Hark ye, Sir, and do you intend to do this horrible thing?—
Sir Pat.What thing, my LadyKnowell?
L. Kno.Why, to marry your Daughter, Sir.
Sir Pat.Yes, Madam.
L. Kno.To a beastly Town Fool?Monstrum horrendum!
Sir Pat.To any Fool, except a Fool of your Race, of your Generation.—
L. Kno.How! a Fool of my Race, my Generation! I know thou meanest my Son, thou contumelious Knight, who, let me tell thee, shall marry thy Daughterinvito te, that is, (to inform thy obtuse Understanding) in spite of thee; yes, shall marry her, though she inherits nothing but thy dull Enthusiasms, which had she been legitimate she had been possest with.
Sir Pat.Oh abominable! you had best say she is none of my Daughter, and that I was a Cuckold.—
L. Kno.If I should, Sir, it would not amount toScandalum Magnatum: I’ll tell thee more, thy whole Pedigree,—and yet for all this,Lodwickshall marry your Daughter, and yet I’ll have none of your Nephew.
Sir Pat.Shall he so, my LadyKnowell? I shall go near to out-trick your Ladyship, for all your politick Learning. ’Tis past the Canonical Hour, as they call it, or I wou’d marry my Daughter instantly; I profess we ne’er had good days since these Canonical Fopperies came up again, mere Popish Tricks to give our Children time for Disobedience,—the next Justice wou’d ha’ serv’d turn, and have done the Business at any Hour: but Patience is a Virtue—Roger, go after Mr.Fainlove, and tell him I wou’d speak with him instantly.ExitRoger.
L. Kno.Come, come, Ladies, we lose fleeting time, upon my Honour, we do; for, Madam, as I said, I have brought the Fiddles, and design to sacrifice the intire Evening to your Ladyship’s Diversion.
Sir Cred.Incomparable Lady, that was well thought on; Zoz, I long to be jigging.
Sir Pat.Fiddles, good Lord! why, what am I come to?—Madam, I take it, SirPatient Fancy’sLady is not a proper Person to make one at immodest Revellings, and profane Masqueradings.
L. Fan.Why; ah, ’tis very true, Sir, but we oughtnot to offend a Brother that is weak, and consequently, a Sister.
Sir Pat.An excellent Lady this, but she may be corrupted, ah, she may fall; I will therefore without delay, carry her from this wicked Town.
L. Kno.Come, come, Gentlemen, let’s in; Mr.Fancy, you must be my Man;—SirCredulous, come, and you, sweet Sir, come, Ladies,—Nunc est saltandum, &c.
Exeunt.
Enter SirPatientas before, LadyFancy,Wittmore,Maundy, andRogerwith things.
Sir Pat.Maundy, fetch my Clothes, I’ll dress me and out of Town instantly,—persuade me not.ToWit.
Roger, is the Coach ready,Roger?
Rog.Yes, Sir, with four Horses.
L. Fan.Out of Town! Oh, I’m undone then, there will be no hopes of ever seeingWittmore.Aside.—Maundy, oh, help me to contrive my stay, or I’m a dead Woman.—Sir, sure you cannot go and leave your Affairs in Town.
Sir Pat.Affairs! what Affairs?
L. Fan.Why, your Daughter’s Marriage, Sir:—and—Sir,—not, Sir, but that I desire of all things in the World the Blessing of being alone with you, far from the Noise and leud Disorders of this filthy Town.
Sir Pat.Most excellent Woman! ah, thou art too good for sinful Man, and I will therefore remove thee from the Temptations of it.—Maundy, my Clothes—Mr.Fainlove, I will leaveIsabellawith my LadyFidget, my Sister, who shall to morrow see you married, to prevent farther Inconveniences.
L. Fan.What shall I do?
Maun.Madam, I have a Design, which considering his Spleen, must this time do our Business,—’tis—Whispers.
L. Fan.I like it well, about it instantly, hah—Ex.Maundy.
Alas, Sir, what ails your Face? good Heaven,—look,Roger.
Sir Pat.My Face! why, what ails my Face? hah!
L. Fan.See, Mr.Fainlove, oh, look on my Dear, is he not strangely alter’d?
Wit.Most wonderfully.
Sir Pat.Alter’d, hah—why, where, why, how alter’d?—hah, alter’d say you?
Wit.Lord, how wildly he stares!
Sir Pat.Hah, stare wildly!
Rog.Are you not very sick, Sir?
L. Fan.Sick! oh, Heavens forbid!—How does my dearest Love?
Sir Pat.Methinks I feel myself not well o’th’ sudden—ah—a kind of shivering seizes all my Limbs,—and am I so much chang’d?
Wit.All over, Sir, as big again as you were.
L. Fan.Your Face is frightfully blown up, and your dear Eyes just starting from your Head; oh, I shall sound with the apprehension on’t.Falls intoWittmore’sArms.
Sir Pat.My Head and Eyes so big, say you: oh, I’m wondrous sick o’th’ sudden,—all over say you—oh, oh—Ay, I perceive it now, my Senses fail me too.
L. Fan.How, Sir, your Senses fail you?
Wit.That’s a very bad sign, believe me.
Sir Pat.Oh, ay, for I can neither feel nor see this mighty growth you speak of.Falls into a Chair, with great signs of Disorder.
Wit.Alas, I’m sorry for that, Sir.
Rog.Sure, ’tis impossible, I’ll run and fetch a Glass, Sir.Offers to go.
L. Fan.Oh, stay, I wou’d not for the world he should see what a Monster he is,—and is like to be before to morrow.Aside.
Rog.I’ll fit him with a Glass,—I’ll warrant ye, it shall advance our Design.ExitRoger.
EnterMaundywith the Clothes, she starts.
Maun.Good Heaven, what ails you, Sir?
Sir Pat.Oh—oh—’tis so.
Maun.Lord, how he’s swoln! see how his Stomach struts.
Sir Pat.Ah, ’tis true, though I perceive it not.
Maun.Not perceive it, Sir! put on your Clothes and be convinc’d,—try ’em, Sir.She pulls off his Gown, and puts on his Doublet and Coat, which come not near by a handful or more.
Sir Pat.Ah, it needs not,—mercy upon me!—Falls back.
I’m lost, I’m gone! Oh Man, what art thou but a Flower? I am poison’d, this talking Lady’s Breath’s infectious; methought I felt the Contagion steal into my Heart; send for my Physicians, and if I die I’ll swear she’s my Murderer: oh, see, see, how my trembling increases, oh, hold my Limbs, I die.—
EnterRogerwith a magnifying Glass, shews him the Glass; he looks in it.
Rog.I’ll warrant I’ll shew his Face as big as a Bushel.Aside.
Sir Pat.Oh, oh,—I’m a dead Man, have me to Bed, I die away, undress me instantly, send for my Physicians, I’m poison’d, my Bowels burn, I have within anÆtna, my Brains run round, Nature within me reels.They carry him out in a Chair.
Wit.And all the drunken Universe does run on Wheels, ha, ha, ha.
Ah, my dear Creature, how finely thou hast brought him to his Journy’s end!
L. Fan.There was no other way but this to have secur’d my Happiness with thee; there needs no more than thatyou come anon to the Garden Back-gate, where you shall find admittance;—SirPatientis like to lie alone to night.
Wit.Till then ’twill be a thousand Ages.
L. Fan.At Games of Love Husbands to cheat is fair,’Tis the Gallant we play with on the square.Exeunt severally.
L. Fan.At Games of Love Husbands to cheat is fair,
’Tis the Gallant we play with on the square.Exeunt severally.
Scene draws offto a room in SirPatient Fancy’shouse, and discovers LadyKnowell,Isabella,Lucretia,Lodwick,Leander,Wittmore, SirCredulous, other Men and Women, as going to dance.
L. Kno.Come, one Dance more, and then I think we shall have sufficiently teaz’d the Alderman, and ’twill be time to part.—SirCredulous, where’s your Mistress?
Sir Cred.Within a Mile of an Oak, dear Madam, I’ll warrant you.—Well, I protest and vow, sweet Lady, you dance most nobly,—Why, you dance—like—like a—like a hasty Pudding, beforeJove.
They dance some Antick, orRustick Antick.Lodwickspeaking toIsabella.
Sitting by yonder River side,Partheniathus toCloecry’d,Whilst from the fair Nymph’s Eyes apaceAnother Stream o’er-flow’d her beauteous Face;Ah happy Nymph, said she, that canSo little value that false Creature, Man.Oft the perfidious things will cry,Alas they burn, they bleed, they die;But if they’re absent half a Day,Nay, let ’em be but one poor Hour away,No more they die, no more complain,But like unconstant Wretches live again.
Sitting by yonder River side,
Partheniathus toCloecry’d,
Whilst from the fair Nymph’s Eyes apace
Another Stream o’er-flow’d her beauteous Face;
Ah happy Nymph, said she, that can
So little value that false Creature, Man.
Oft the perfidious things will cry,
Alas they burn, they bleed, they die;
But if they’re absent half a Day,
Nay, let ’em be but one poor Hour away,
No more they die, no more complain,
But like unconstant Wretches live again.
Lod.Well, have you consider’d of that Business yet,Isabella?
Isab.What business?
Lod.Of giving me admittance to night.
Isab.And may I trust your honesty?
Lod.Oh, doubt me not, my mother’s resolv’d it shall be a match between you and I, and that very consideration will secure thee: besides, who would first sully the Linen they mean to put on?
Isab.Away, here’s my Mother.
Enter LadyFancyandMaundy.
L. Fan.Madam, I beg your pardon for my absence, the effects of my Obedience, not Will; but SirPatientis taken very ill o’th’ sudden, and I must humbly intreat your Ladyship to retire, for Rest is only essential to his Recovery.
L. Kno.Congruously spoken, upon my Honour. Oh, the impudence of this Fellow your Ladyship’s Husband, to espouse so fair a Person only to make a Nurse of!
L. Fan.Alas, Madam!—
L. Kno.A Slave, a very Houshold Drudge.—Oh, faugh, come never grieve;—for, Madam, his Disease is nothing but Imagination, a Melancholy which arises from the Liver, Spleen, and Membrane call’dMesenterium; theArabiansname the DistemperMyrathial, and we here inEngland,Hypochondriacal Melancholy; I cou’d prescribe a most potent Remedy, but that I am loth to stir the Envy of the College.
L. Fan.Really, Madam, I believe—
L. Kno.But as you say, Madam, we’ll leave him to his Repose; pray do not grieve too much.
Lod.Death! wou’d I had the consoling her, ’tis a charming Woman!
L. Kno.Mr.Fancy, your Hand; Madam, your most faithful Servant.—Lucretia, come,Lucretia.—Your Servant, Ladies and Gentleman.
L. Fan.A Devil on her, wou’d the Nimbleness of her Ladyship’s Tongue were in her Heels, she wou’d make more haste away: oh, I long for the blest minute.
Lod.Isabella, shall I find admittance anon?
Isab.On fair Conditions.
Lod.Trust my Generosity.—Madam, your Slave.Ex.To L.Fan.gazing on her, goes out.
Sir Cred.Madam, I wou’d say something of your Charms and celestial Graces, but that all Praises are as far below you, as the Moon in her Opposition is below the Sun;—and so, luscious Lady, I am yours: Now for my Serenade—
Ex. all but L.Fan.andMaundy.
L. Fan.Maundy, have you commanded all the Servants to bed?
Maun.Yes, Madam, not a Mouse shall stir, and I have made ready the Chamber next the Garden for your Ladyship.
L. Fan.Then there needs no more but that you wait forWittmore’scoming to the Garden-Gate, and take care no Lights be in the House for fear of Eyes.
Maun.Madam, I understand Lovers are best by dark, and shall be diligent: the Doctor has secur’d SirPatientby a sleeping Pill, and you are only to expect your approaching Happiness.
Exeunt.
Enter LadyKnowellandLeander.
L. Kno.Leander, raise your Soul above that little trifleLucretia;—cannot you guess what better Fate attends you? fy, how dull you are! must I instruct you in plain right-down Terms? and tell you, that I propose you Master of my Fortune.—Now possibly you understand me.
EnterLucretia, and peeps.
Lean.I wish I did not, Madam,Unless I’d Virtue to deserve the Bounty;I havea thousand FaultsDissimulation hides,Inconstant, wild, debauch’d as Youth can make me.
Lean.I wish I did not, Madam,
Unless I’d Virtue to deserve the Bounty;
I havea thousand FaultsDissimulation hides,
Inconstant, wild, debauch’d as Youth can make me.
Lucr.All that will not do your Business.Aside.
L. Kno.Yet you wou’d have my Daughter take you with all these Faults; they’re Virtues there, but to the name of Mother, they all turn retrograde: I can endure a Man
As wild and as inconstant as she can;I have a Fortune too that can support that Humour,That ofLucretiadoes depend on me,And when I please is nothing;I’m far from Age or Wrinkles, can be courtedBy Men, as gay and youthful as a new Summer’s Morn,Beauteous as the first Blossoms of the Spring,Before the common Sun has kiss’d their Sweets away,If with salacious Appetites I lov’d.Lean.Faith, Madam, I cou’d wish—L. Kno.That I were but Fifteen: butIf there be inequality in Years,There is so too in Fortunes, that might addA Lustre to my Eyes, Charms to my Person,And make me fair asVenus, young asHebe.
As wild and as inconstant as she can;
I have a Fortune too that can support that Humour,
That ofLucretiadoes depend on me,
And when I please is nothing;
I’m far from Age or Wrinkles, can be courted
By Men, as gay and youthful as a new Summer’s Morn,
Beauteous as the first Blossoms of the Spring,
Before the common Sun has kiss’d their Sweets away,
If with salacious Appetites I lov’d.
Lean.Faith, Madam, I cou’d wish—
L. Kno.That I were but Fifteen: but
If there be inequality in Years,
There is so too in Fortunes, that might add
A Lustre to my Eyes, Charms to my Person,
And make me fair asVenus, young asHebe.
Lean.Madam, you have enough to engage any unconquer’d Heart; but ’twas, I thought, with your allowance I dispos’d of mine, and ’tis a Heart that knows not how to change.
L. Kno.Then ’tis a foolish unambitious Heart, unworthy of the Elevation it has not glorious Pride enough to aim at:—Farewel, Sir,—when you are wiser, you may find admittance.Goes out.
Lean.Stay, Madam—
EnterLucretia.
Lucr.For what? to hear your Penitence! Forgive me, Madam, I will be a Villain, forget my Vows of Love, made toLucretia.
And sacrifice both her, and those to Interest.Oh, how I hate this whining and dissembling!
And sacrifice both her, and those to Interest.
Oh, how I hate this whining and dissembling!
Lean.Do, triumph o’er a wretched Man,Lucretia.
Lucr.How! wretched in loving me so entirely, or that you cannot marry my Mother, and be Master of her mighty Fortune? ’Tis a Temptation indeed so between Love and Interest, hang me if ever I saw so simple a Look as you put on when my Mother made love to you.
Lean.You may easily guess the Confusion of a Man in my Circumstances, to be languishing for the lov’d Daughter, and pursu’d by the hated Mother, whom if I refuse will ruin all my hopes of thee.
Lucr.Refuse her! I hope you have more Wit.
Lean.Lucretia, cou’d she make a Monarch of me, I cou’d not marry her.
Lucr.And you wou’d be so wise to tell her so?
Lean.I wou’d no more abuse her, than I cou’d love her.
Lucr.Yet that last must be done.
Lean.How!
Lucr.Dost believe me so wicked to think I mean in earnest? No, tell her a fine Story of Love and Liking, gaze on her, kiss her Hands, and sigh, commend her Face and Shape, swear she’s the Miracle of the Age for Wit, cry up her Learning, vow you were an Ass not to be sensible of her Perfections all this while; what a Coxcomb, to doat upon the Daughter when such Charms were so visible in the Mother? Faith, she’ll believe all this.
Lean.It may be so, but what will all this serve for?
Lucr.To give us time and opportunity to deceive her, or I’m mistaken.
Lean.I cannot teach my Tongue so much Deceit.
Lucr.You may be a Fool, and cry, Indeed forsooth I cannot love, for alas I have lost my Heart, and am unworthy of your proffer’d Blessings—do, and see her marry mein spite tothis FopEasy, this Knight of Nonsense: no, no, dissemble me handsomely and like a Gentleman, and then expect your good Fortune.
EnterAntick.
Ant.Madam, your Mother’s coming.
Lucr.Away then, she must not see us together, she thinks you gone.
Lean.But must I carry off no Comfort with me?
Lucr.Will you expose me to the incens’d Jealousy of a Parent? go, or I shall hate ye.
Thrusts him out.
EnterMaundyby dark: Opens the Garden-Door.
Maun.Now am I return’d to my old Trade again, fetch and carry my Lady’s Lovers; I was afraid when she had been married, these Night-works wou’d have ended; but to say truth, there’s a Conscience to be used in all things, and there’s no reason she should languish with an old Man when a Young Man may be had.—The Door opens, he’s come.—
EnterLodwick.
I see you’re a punctual Lover, Sir, pray follow me as softly as you can.
Lod.This is some one whom I perceiveIsabellahas made the Confident to our Amours.
Exeunt.
L. Fan.Oh, the agreeable Confusion of a Lover high with expectation of the approaching Bliss! What Tremblings between Joy and Fear possess me? All my whole Soul is taken up withWittmore; I’ve no Ideas, no Thoughts but ofWittmore, and sure my Tongue can speak no other Language, but his Name.—Who’s there?
EnterMaundyleadingLodwick.
Maun.Madam, ’tis I, and your expected Lover here—I put him into your hands, and will wait your Commands in the next Chamber.ExitMaun.
Lod.Where are you, my dearest Creature?
L. Fan.Here—give me your Hand, I’ll lead you to those Joys we both so long have sigh’d for.
Lod.Hah! to Joys; sure she doth but dally with me.Aside.
L. Fan.Why come you not on, my dear?
Lod.And yet, why this Admission, and is th’ dark too, if she design’d me none but virtuous Favours?—What damn’d Temptation’s this?
L. Fan.Are you bewitch’d? what is’t that frights you?
Lod.I’m fix’d: Death, was ever such a Lover?Just ready for the highest Joys of Love,And like a bashful Girl restrain’d by Fear
Lod.I’m fix’d: Death, was ever such a Lover?
Just ready for the highest Joys of Love,
And like a bashful Girl restrain’d by Fear
Of an insuing Infamy—I hate to cuckold my own Expectations.
L. Fan.Heavens! what can you mean?
Lod.Death, what’s this?—sure ’tis not Virtue in me,—Pray Heaven it be not Impotence!—Where got I this damn’d Honesty, which I never found my self master of till now!—why shou’d it seize me when I had least need on’t?
L. Fan.What ails you? are you mad?—we are safe, and free as Winds let loose to ruffle all the Groves; what is’t delays you then? Soft.
Lod.Pox o’ this thought of Wife, the very Name destroys my appetite.
Oh, with what Vigour I could deal my LoveTo some fair leud unknown,To whom I’d never made a serious Vow!
Oh, with what Vigour I could deal my Love
To some fair leud unknown,
To whom I’d never made a serious Vow!
L. Fan.Tell me the Mystery of this sudden Coldness: have I kept my Husband in Town for this? Nay, persuaded him to be very sick to serve our purpose, and am I thus rewarded—ungrateful Man!
Lod.Hah,—’tis notIsabella’sVoice,—your Husband, say you?Takes hold greedily of her Hand.
L. Fan.Is safe, from any fear of interrupting us.Come—these Delays do ill consist with LoveAnd our Desires; at least if they are equal.Lod.Death, ’tis the charming Mother!What lucky Star directed me to night?O my fair Dissembler, let us hasteTo pay the mighty Tributes due to Love.
L. Fan.Is safe, from any fear of interrupting us.
Come—these Delays do ill consist with Love
And our Desires; at least if they are equal.
Lod.Death, ’tis the charming Mother!
What lucky Star directed me to night?
O my fair Dissembler, let us haste
To pay the mighty Tributes due to Love.
L. Fan.Follow me then with careful Silence,—forIsabella’sChamber joins to this, and she may hear us.
Lod.Not Flowers grow, nor smooth Streams glide away,Not absent Lovers sigh, nor breaks the Day,More silently than I’ll those Joys receive,Which Love and Darkness do conspire to give.
Lod.Not Flowers grow, nor smooth Streams glide away,
Not absent Lovers sigh, nor breaks the Day,
More silently than I’ll those Joys receive,
Which Love and Darkness do conspire to give.
Exeunt.
EnterIsabellaandFannyin their Night-gowns.
Isab.Well, I have no mind to let this dear mad DevilLodwickin to night.
Fan.Why, Sister, this is not the first Venture you have made of this kind, at this Hour, and in this Place; these Arbours were they tell-tales, cou’d discover many pretty stories of your Loves, and do you think they’ll be less faithful now? pray trust them once again. Oh, I do so love to hear Mr.Lodwickprotest, and vow, and swear, and dissemble, and when you don’t believe him, rail at you,—avads, ’tis the prettiest Man—
Isab.I have a strange apprehension of being surpriz’d to night.
Fan.I’ll warrant you, I’ll sit on yon Bank of Pinks, and when I hear a Noise I’ll come and tell you; soLodwickmay slip out at the back Gate, and we may be walking up and down as if we meant no harm.
Isab.You’ll grow very expert in the Arts of Love,Fanny.
Fan.When I am big enough I shall do my Endeavour, for I have heard you say, Women were born to no otherend than to love: And ’tis fit I should learn to live and die in my calling.—Come, open the Gate, or you’ll repent it, we shall have my Father marry you within a day or two to that ugly Man that speaks hard Words,—avads, I can’t abide him.
Isab.What Noise is that?
Fan.Why, ’tis Mr.Lodwickat the Garden-Door;—let him in whilst I’ll to my flowry Bank, and stand Centinel.—Runs off.Isabellaopens the Gate.
EnterWittmore.
Wit.Who’s there?
Isab.Speak low, who shou’d it be but the kind Fool her self, who can deny you nothing but what you dare not take?
Wit.Not take! what’s that? hast thou reserves in store?—Oh, come and let me lead thee to thy Bed,Or seat thee on some Bank of softer Flowers,Where I may rifle all thy unknown Store.Isab.How! surely you’re not in earnest?—Do you love me?Wit.Love thee! by thy dear self, all that my Soul adores,I’m all impatient Flame! all over Love!—You do not use to doubt, but since you do,Come, and I’ll satisfy thy obliging Fears,And give thee Proofs how much my Soul is thine,I’ll breathe it all anew into thy Bosom.—Oh, thou art fit for the transporting Play,All loose and wanton, like the Queen of LoveWhen she descends to meet the Youth in Shades.Isab.And are you, Sir, in earnest? can it be?Wit.That question was severe, what means my Love?What pretty Art is this to blow my Flame?Are you not mine? did we not meet t’enjoy?I came not with more vigorous eager Haste,When our first Sacrifice to Love we paid,Than to perform that Ceremony now.Come do not let the Sacred Fire burn out,Which only was prepar’d for Love’s rich Altar,And this is the divine, dark, silent Minute—Goes to lead her off.Isab.Hold, Ravisher, and know this saucy PassionHas render’d back your Interest. Now I hate ye,And my Obedience to my Father’s WillShall marry me toFainlove, and I’ll despise ye.Flings from him.
Wit.Not take! what’s that? hast thou reserves in store?
—Oh, come and let me lead thee to thy Bed,
Or seat thee on some Bank of softer Flowers,
Where I may rifle all thy unknown Store.
Isab.How! surely you’re not in earnest?—Do you love me?
Wit.Love thee! by thy dear self, all that my Soul adores,
I’m all impatient Flame! all over Love!
—You do not use to doubt, but since you do,
Come, and I’ll satisfy thy obliging Fears,
And give thee Proofs how much my Soul is thine,
I’ll breathe it all anew into thy Bosom.—
Oh, thou art fit for the transporting Play,
All loose and wanton, like the Queen of Love
When she descends to meet the Youth in Shades.
Isab.And are you, Sir, in earnest? can it be?
Wit.That question was severe, what means my Love?
What pretty Art is this to blow my Flame?
Are you not mine? did we not meet t’enjoy?
I came not with more vigorous eager Haste,
When our first Sacrifice to Love we paid,
Than to perform that Ceremony now.
Come do not let the Sacred Fire burn out,
Which only was prepar’d for Love’s rich Altar,
And this is the divine, dark, silent Minute—Goes to lead her off.
Isab.Hold, Ravisher, and know this saucy Passion
Has render’d back your Interest. Now I hate ye,
And my Obedience to my Father’s Will
Shall marry me toFainlove, and I’ll despise ye.Flings from him.
Wit.Hah!Isabella!Death, I have made sweet work,—stay, gentle Maid,—she’ll ruin all if she go:—stay—she knew me, and cunningly drew me to this Discovery; I’ll after her and undeceive her.
Runs after her.
EnterIsabellagroping as in the dark.
Isab.Pray Heaven I get undiscover’d to my Chamber, where I’ll make Vows against this perjured Man; hah, sure he follows still; no Wood-Nymph ever fled before a Satyr, with half that trembling haste I flew fromLodwick.—Oh, he has lost his Virtue, and undone me.
Goes out groping, and the noise of Serenade again.
EnterIsabellagroping, SirPatientwithout.
L. Fan.It is this Door that open’d, and which I thought I had secur’d.
Sir Pat.Within.Oh, insupportable, abominable, and not to be indur’d!
Isab.Hah, my Father! I’m discover’d and pursu’d,—grant me to find the Bed.
L. Fan.Heavens! ’twas my Husband’s Voice, sure we’re betray’d. It must be so, for what Devil but that of Jealousy cou’d raise him at this late hour?
Isab.Hah, where am I, and who is’t that speaks—To her self.
Lod.So, he must know that I have made a Cuckold of him.Aside.
Sir Pat.Within.Call up my Men, the Coachman, Groom, and Butler, the Footmen, Cook, and Gardiner; bid ’em all rise and arm, with long Staff, Spade and Pitchfork, and sally out upon the Wicked.
Lod.S’heart! what a Death shall I die:—is there no place of safety hereabouts—for there is no resisting these unmerciful Weapons.
Isab.A Man’s Voice!
L. Fan.I know of none, nor how to prevent yourDiscovery.
Sir Pat.Within.Oh, oh, lead me forward, I’ll lie here on the Garden-side, out of the hearing of this Hellish Noise.
L. Fan.Hah, Noise!—what means he?
Lod.Nay, I know not, is there no escaping?—
Isab.Who can they be that talk thus? sure I have mistook my Chamber.
L. Fan.Oh, he’s coming in—I’m ruin’d; what shall we do? here—get into the Bed—and cover your self with the Clothes—quickly—oh, my Confusion will betray me.
Lodwickgets into the Bed,Isabellahides behind the Curtain very near to him.
Enter SirPatient, led byNurseandMaundy, with Lights.
Maun.Pray go back, Sir, my poor Lady will be frighted out of her Wits at this danger you put your self into, the Noise shall be still’d.
L. Fan.Oh, what’s the matter with my Love? what, do you mean to murder him? oh, lead him instantly back to his Bed.
Sir Pat.Oh, oh, no, I’ll lie here,—put me to bed, oh, I faint,—my Chamber’s possest with twenty thousand Evil Spirits.
L. Fan.Possest! what sickly Fancy’s this?
Sir Pat.Ah, the House is beset, surrounded and confounded with profane tinkling, with Popish Horn-Pipes, and Jesuitical Cymbals, more Antichristian and Abominable than Organs, or Anthems.
Nurse.Yea verily, and surely it is the spawn of Cathedral Instruments plaid on by Babylonish Minstrels, only to disturb the Brethren.
Sir Pat.Ay, ’tis so, call up my Servants, and let them be first chastiz’d and then hang’d; accuse ’em forFrenchPapishes, that had a design to fire the City, or any thing:—oh, I shall die—lead me gently to this Bed.
L. Fan.To hinder him will discover all:—stay, Sir.—
Sir Pat.Hah, my Lady turn’d rebellious!—put me to Bed I say;—Throws himself forward to the Bed.—hah—what’s here?—what are thou,—a Man,—hah, a Man, Treason! betray’d! my Bed’s defil’d, my Lady polluted, and I am cornuted; oh thou vile Serpent of my Bosom!
She stands with her Face towards the Stage in signs of fear.
Isab.A Man, and in my virtuous Lady Mother’s Chamber! how fortunate was I to light on this discovery!
L. Fan.Well, Sir, since you have seen him, I beseech you for my sake, Dear, pardon him this one time.Coakesing him.
Sir Pat.Thou beg his Pardon! Oh, was ever heard such Impudence!
L. Fan.Indeed, my Love, he is to blame; but we that are judicious should bear with the Frailities of Youth.
Sir Pat.Oh insupportable Audacity!—what canst thou say, false Woman?
L. Fan.Truly not much in his Defence, my Dear.
Isab.Oh cunning Devil!—
L. Fan.But, Sir, to hide the weakness of your Daughter, I have a little strain’d my Modesty.—
Isab.Heavens! what says she?—
L. Fan.’TisIsabella’sLover, Sir, whom I’ve conceal’d.
Lod.A good hint to save both our Credits.
Sir Pat.How, Mr.Fainlovemean you?
Lodwickrises and comes a little more forward,Isabelladoes the like, till both meet at the feet of the Bed, and start,Lodwicklooking simply.
L. Fan.Ay, my dear, Mr.Fainlove.
Lod.Isabellahere! must she know too what a fine inconstant Dog I am?—
Isab.Lodwick!and in my Mother’s Chamber! may I believe my Eyes!
Sir Pat.But how got he hither?—tell me that: oh Youth, Youth, to what degree of Wickedness art thou arriv’d?
L. Fan.She appointed him to come this Night, Sir, and he going to her Chamber, by mistake came into mine, it being the next to her’s.
Maun.But, Lord, Sir, had you heard how my Lady school’d him, whilst I ran down to fetch a Light!
Lod.Now does my Conscience tell me, I am a damn’d Villain.—Aside, looking pitifully onIsabella.
L. Fan.But the poor Man presently perceiv’d his mistake, and beg’d my pardon in such feeling Terms—that I vow I had not the heart to deny it him.
Isab.Oh Traytor! wou’d thou hadst been that Ravisher I took thee for, rather than such a Villain—false! and with my Mother too!
L. Fan.And just then, Sir, you came to the Door, and lest you shou’d see him, intreated me to hide him from your Anger,—the Offence is not so heinous, Sir, considering he is so soon to marry her.
Sir Pat.Well, Sir, and what have you to say in your Defence?—hah, how, Mr.Knowell,—worse and worse,—why, how came you hither, Sir? hah.—
L. Fan.NotWittmore! oh, I am ruin’d and betray’d.Falls almost in a swoon.
Sir Pat.Hah,Isabellahere too!
Isab.Yes, Sir, to justify her Innocence.
Sir Pat.Hah! Innocence! and justify! take her away; go out of my sight, thou Limb of Satan,—take her away, I say, I’ll talk with you to morrow, Lady Finetricks—I will.—
Isab.—And I’ll know before I sleep, the mystery of all this, and who ’twas this faithless Man sent in his room to deceive me in the Garden.Goes out.
Lod.A plague of all ill-luck—how the Devil came she hither? I must follow and reconcile her.Going out, SirPatientstays him.
Sir Pat.Nay, Sir, we must not part so till I have known the truth of this Business, I take it.
Lod.Truth, Sir! oh, all that your fair Lady has said, Sir; I must confess her Eyes have wounded me enough with Anger, you need not add more to my Shame.—
L. Fan.Some little comfort yet, that he prov’d indeed to beIsabella’sLover: Oh, that I should mistake so unluckily!Aside.
Sir Pat.Why, I thought it had been Mr.Fainlove.
L. Fan.By all that’s good, and so did I.
Lod.I know you did, Madam, or you had not been so kind to me: Your Servant, dear Madam.—Going, SirPatientstays him.
L. Fan.Pray, Sir, let him go; oh, how I abominate the sight of a Man that cou’d be so wicked as he has been!
Sir Pat.Ha,—good Lady, excellent Woman: well, Sir, for my Lady’s sake I’ll let you pass with this, but if I catch you here again, I shall spoil your Intrigues, Sir, marry, shall I, and so rest ye satisfied, Sir.—
Lod.At this time, I am, Sir—Madam, a thousand Blessings on you for this Goodness.
L. Fan.Ten thousand Curses upon thee,—go, boast the Ruin you have made.Aside toLod.
Sir Pat.Come, no more Anger now, my Lady; the Gentleman’s sorry you see, I’ll marry my pert Huswife to morrow for this.—Maundy, see the Gentleman safe out:—ah, put me to Bed; ah, this Night’s Work will kill me, ah, ah.
ExeuntLodwickandMaundy.
Isab.How, Mr.Fainlove, it cannot be.
Fan.Indeed, Sister, ’tis the same, for all he talks so; and he told me his coming was but to try your Virtue only.
EnterLodwickandMaundyas passing over, but stand.
Isab.ThatFainlove! whom I am so soon to marry! and but this day courted me in another Dialect!
Wit.That was my Policy, Madam, to pass upon your Father with. But I’m a Man that knows the value of the Fair, and saw Charms of Beauty and of Wit in you, that taught me to know the way to your Heart was to appear my self, which now I do. Why did you leave me so unkindly but now?
Lod.Hah, what’s this? whilst I was grafting Horns on another’s Head, some kind Friend was doing that good Office for me.
Maun.Sure ’tisWittmore!—oh that Dissembler—this was his Plot upon my Lady, to gain time withIsabella.Aside.
Wit.And being so near my Happiness, can you blame me, if I made a trial whether your Virtue were agreeable to your Beauty, great, and to be equally ador’d?
Lod.Death, I’ve heard enough to forfeit all my Patience!—Draw, Sir, and make a trial of your Courage too.—
Wit.Hah, what desperate Fool art thou?Draws.
Lod.One that will see thee fairly damn’d, e’er yield his Interest up inIsabella—oh thou false Woman!
They fight out,Isabella,Fanny, andMaundyrun off.
Sir Cred.This sure is extraordinary, or the Devil’s in’t, and I’ll ne’er trust Serenade more.Come forward, and all play again.
—Hold, hold, now for the Song, which because I wou’d have most deliciously and melodiously sung, I’ll sing my self; look ye,—hum—hum.—