ThouGrief of my Heart, and thou Pearl of my Eyes,D’on thy FlannelPetticoat quickly, and rise;And from thy resplendent Window discoverA Face that wou’d mortify any young Lover:For I, like greatJovetransformed, do wooe,And am amorous Owl, to wit to wooe, to wit to wooe.A Lover, Ads Zoz, is a sort of a ToolThat of all Things you best may compare to an Owl:For in some dark Shades he delights still to sit,And all the Night long he crys wo to wit.Then rise, my brightCloris, andd’on onslip shoe:And hear thy amorous Owl chant, wit to wooe, wit to wooe.—Well, this won’t do, for I perceive no Window open, nor Lady bright appear, to talk obligingly:—perhaps the Song does not please her: you Ballad-singers, have you no good Songs of another fashion?1 Man.Yes, Sir, Several,Robin—Hark how the Waters fall, fall, fall!Sir Cred.How, Man! Zoz, remove us farther off, for fear of wetting.1 Man.No, no, Sir, I only gave my Fellow a hint of an excellent Ballad that begins—Ill-wedded Joys, how quickly do you fade!Sings.Sir Cred.Ay, ay, that, we’ll have that,—Ill-wedded Joys, how quickly do you fade,—Sings.That’s excellent! Oh, now the Windows open, now, now shew your capering Tricks.Vaulting.They all play again.EnterRogerand a Company of Fellows as out of SirPatient’sHouse, led on byAbela precise Clerk, all armed with odd Weapons.Abel.Verily, verily, here be these Babes of Perdition, these Children of Iniquity.Rog.A pox of your Babes and Children, they are Men, and Sons of Whores, whom we must bang confoundedly, for not letting honest godly People rest quietly in their Beds at Midnight.Sir Cred.Who’s there?Rog.There, with a Pox to you; cannot a Right-worshipful Knight, that has been sick these Twenty Years with taking Physick, sleep quietly in his own House for you; and must we be rais’d out of our Beds to quiet your Hell-pipes, in the Devil’s name?Abel.Down withGogandMagog, there; there’s the rotten Bell weather that leads the rest astray, and defiles the whole Flock.Rog.Hang your preaching, and let’s come to him, we’ll maul him.Beat SirCred.Sir Cred.Oh, Quarter, Quarter, Murder, Help, Murder, Murder!EnterLodwick.Lod.Damn these Rascals, who e’er they were, that so unluckily redeem’d a Rival from my Fury,—Hah, they are here,—Egad, I’ll have one touch more with ’em,—the Dogs are spoiling my design’d Serenade too—have amongst ye.—Fights and beats ’em off.SirCredulous, how is’t?Sir Cred.Who’s there?Lodwick?Oh dear Lad, is’t thou that hast redeem’d me from the inchanted Cudgels that demolish’d my triumphant Pageant, and confounded my Serenade? Zoz, I’m half kill’d, Man,—I have never a whole Bone about me sure.Lod.Come in with me—a plague upon the Rascal that escap’d me.Exeunt.ACT IV.Scene I.LadyKnowell’sHouse.EnterLucretia, followed by SirCredulous.Lucr.Marry’d to morrow! and leave my Mother the possession ofLeander! I’ll die a thousand Deaths first.—How the Fool haunts me!Aside.Sir Cred.Nay, delicious Lady, you may say your Pleasure; but I will justify the Serenade to be as high a piece of Gallantry as was ever practised in our Age, though not comparable to your Charms and celestial Graces, which shou’d I praise as I ought, ’twou’d require more time than the Sun employs in his natural Motion between the Tropicks; that is to say, a whole Year, (for by the way, I am noCopernican) for, Dear Madam, you must know, my Rhetorick Master,—I say, my Rhetorick Master, who was—Lucr.As great a Coxcomb as your self;—pray leave me, I am serious—I must go seek outLodwick.Sir Cred.Leave ye! I thank you for that, i’faith, before I have spoke out my Speech; therefore I say, Divine Lady—because my Rhetorick Master commanded the frequentuse ofHypallages,Allegories, and the richest Figures of that beauteous Art,—because my Rhetorick—Lucr.I must leave the Fool, follow if you dare, for I have no leisure to attend your Nonsense.Goes out.Enter LadyKnowell.L. Kno.What, alone, SirCredulous? I left you withLucretia.Sir Cred.Lucretia!I’m sure she makes a veryTarquinius Sextusof me, and all about this Serenade,—I protest and vow, incomparable Lady, I had begun the sweetest Speech to her—though I say’t, such Flowers of Rhetorick—’twou’d have been the very Nosegay of Eloquence, so it wou’d; and like an ungrateful illiterate Woman as she is, she left me in the very middle on’t, so snuffy I’ll warrant.L. Kno.Be not discourag’d, Sir, I’ll adapt her to a reconciliation: Lovers must sometimes expect these littleBelli fugaces; theGrecianstherefore truly named LoveGlucupicros Eros.Sir Cred.Nay, bright Lady, I am as little discourag’d as another, but I’m sorry I gave so extraordinary a Serenade to so little purpose.L. Kno.Name it no more, ’twas only a Gallantry mistaken; but I’ll accelerate your Felicity, and to morrow shall conclude the great dispute, since there is such Volubility and Vicissitude in mundane Affairs.Goes out.EnterLodwick, stays SirCredulousas he is going out the other way.Lod.SirCredulous, whither away so fast?Sir Cred.Zoz, what a Question’s there? dost not know I am to unty the Virgin Zone to morrow, that is, barter Maiden-heads with thy Sister, that is, to be married to her, Man, and I must toLincolns-Innto my Counsel about it?Lod.My Sister just now told me of it; but, Sir, you must not stir.Sir Cred.Why, what’s the matter?Lod.Have you made your Will?Sir Cred.My Will! no, why my Will, Man?Lod.Then, for the good of your Friends and Posterity, stir not from this place.Sir Cred.Good Lord,Lodwick, thou art the strangest Man,—what do you mean to fright a body thus?Lod.You remember the Serenade last night?Sir Cred.Remember it? Zoz, I think I do, here be the marks on’t sure.—Pulls off his Peruke, and shews his Head broke.Lod.Ads me, your Head’s broke.Sir Cred.My Head broke! why, ’twas a hundred to one but my Neck had been broke.Lod.Faith, not unlikely,—you know the next House is SirPatient Fancy’s;Isabellatoo, you know, is his Daughter.Sir Cred.Yes, yes, she was by when I made my dumb Oration.Lod.The same,—this Lady has a Lover, a mad, furious, fighting, killing Hector, (as you know there are enough about this Town) this Monsieur supposing you to be a Rival, and that your Serenade was address’d to her—Sir Cred.Enough, I understand you, set those Rogues on to murder me.Lod.Wou’d ’twere no worse.Sir Cred.Worse! Zoz, Man, what the Devil can be worse?Lod.Why, he has vow’d to kill you himself wherever he meets you, and now waits below to that purpose.Sir Cred.Sha, sha, if that be all, I’ll to him immediately, and make Affidavit I never had any such design. MadamIsabella! ha, ha, alas, poor man, I have some body else to think on.Lod.Affidavit! why, he’ll not believe you, should you swear your Heart out: some body has possess’d him thatyou are a damn’d Fool, and a most egregious Coward, a Fellow that to save your Life will swear any thing.Sir Cred.What cursed Luck’s this!—why, how came he to know I liv’d here?Lod.I believe he might have it fromLeander, who is his Friend.Sir Cred.Leander!I must confess I never lik’d thatLeandersince yesterday.Lod.He has deceiv’d us all, that’s the truth on’t; for I have lately found out too, that he’s your Rival, and has a kind of a—Sir Cred.Smattering to my Mistress, hah, and therefore wou’d not be wanting to give me a lift out of this World; but I shall give her such a go-by—my LadyKnowellunderstands the difference between three Thousand a Year, and—prithee what’s his Estate?Lod.Shaw—not sufficient to pay Surgeons Bills.Sir Cred.Alas, poor Rat, how does he live then?Lod.Hang him, the Ladies keep him; ’tis a good handsome Fellow, and has a pretty Town-Wit.Sir Cred.He a Wit! what, I’ll warrant he writes Lampoons, rails at Plays, curses all Poetry but his own, and mimicks the Players—ha.Lod.Some such common Notions he has that deceives the ignorant Rabble, amongst whom he passes for a very smart Fellow,—’life, he’s here.EnterLeander.Sir Cred.Why, what shall I do, he will not affront me before Company? hah!Lod.Not in our House, Sir,—bear up and take no notice on’t.Lod.whispersLean.Sir Cred.No notice, quoth he? why, my very Fears will betray me.Lean.Let me alone—Lodwick, I met just now with anItalianMerchant, who has made me such a Present!Lod.What is’t prithee?Lean.A Sort of specifick Poison for all the Senses, especially for that of smelling; so that had I a Rival, and I should see him at any reasonable distance, I could direct a little of this Scent up to his Brain so subtlely, that it shall not fail of Execution in a day or two.Sir Cred.How—Poison!Shewing great Signs of Fear, and holding his Nose.Lean.Nay, shou’d I see him in the midst of a thousand People, I can so direct it, that it shall assault my Enemy’s Nostrils only, without any effects on the rest of the Company.Sir Cred.Oh,—I’m a dead Man!Lod.Is’t possible?Lean.Perhaps some little sneezing or so, no harm; but my Enemy’s a dead Man, Sir, kill’d.Sir Cred.Why, this is the most damn’dItalianTrick I ever heard of; why, this outdoes the famous PoisonerMadamBrenvilliers; well, here’s no jesting, I perceive that,Lodwick.Lod.Fear nothing, I’ll secure you.Aside to him.EnterWittmore.—Wittmore!how is’t, Friend! thou lookest cloudy.Wit.You’ll hardly blame me, Gentlemen, when you shall know what a damn’d unfortunate Rascal I am.Lod.Prithee what’s the matter?Wit.Why, I am to be marry’d, Gentlemen, marry’d to day.Lod.How, marry’d! nay, Gad, then thou’st reason; but to whom prithee?Wit.There’s the Devil on’t again, to a fine young fair, brisk Woman, that has all the Temptations Heaven can give her.Lod.What pity ’tis they shou’d be bestow’d to so wicked an end! Is this your Intrigue, that has been so long conceal’d from your Friends?Lean.We thought it had been some kind Amour, something of Love and Honour.Lod.Is she rich? if she be wondrous rich, we’ll excuse thee.Wit.Her Fortune will be suitable to the Jointure I shall make her.Lod.Nay then ’tis like to prove a hopeful Match; what a Pox can provoke thee to this, dost love her?Wit.No, there’s another Plague, I am cursedly in love elsewhere; and this was but a false Address, to hide that real one.Lod.How, love another? in what quality and manner?Wit.As a Man ought to love, with a good substantial Passion, without any design but that of right-down honest Injoyment.Lod.Ay, now we understand thee, this is something. Ah Friend, I had such an Adventure last Night.—You may talk of your Intrigues and substantial Pleasures, but if any of you can match mine,—Egad, I’ll forswear Womankind.Lean.An Adventure! prithee where?Sir Cred.What, last Night, when you rescued me from theBilbo-Blades! indeed ye look’d a little furiously.Lod.I had reason, I was just then come out of a Garden from fighting with a Man whom I found with my Mistress; and I had at least known who’t had been, but for the coming of those Rascals that set on you, who parted us, whilst he made his escape in the Croud.Wit.Death! that was I, who for fear of being known got away: was’t he then that I fought with, and whom I learnt lov’dIsabella?Aside.Lod.You must know, Gentlemen, I have a sort of a matrimonial Kindness for a very pretty Woman, she whom I tell you I disturb’d in the Garden, and last night she made me an Assignation in her Chamber: when I came to the Garden-door by which I was to have admittance, I found a kind of Necessary call’d a BaudyWaiting-Woman, whom I follow’d, and thought she wou’d have conducted me to the right Woman; but I was luckily and in the dark led into a Lady’s Chamber, who took me for a Lover she expected: I found my happy mistake, and wou’d not undeceive her.Wit.This could be none butLucia.Aside.—Well, Sir, and what did you do there?Lod.Do! why, what dost think? all that a Man inspir’d by Love cou’d do, I followed all the dictates of Nature, Youth, and Vigor.Wit.Oh, hold, my Heart—or I shall kill the Traitor.Aside.Sir Cred.Follow’d all the dictates of Nature, Youth and Vigor! prithee what’s that?Lod.I kiss’d a thousand times her balmy Lips, and greedily took in the nimble Sighs she breath’d into my Soul.Wit.Oh, I can scarce contain my self.Aside.Sir Cred.Pshaw, is that all, Man?Lod.I clasp’d her lovely Body in my Arms,And laid my Bosom to her panting Breast.Trembling she seem’d all Love and soft Desire,And I all Burnings in a youthful Fire.Sir Cred.Bless us, the Man’s in a Rapture!Wit.Damnation on them both.Sir Cred.Well, to the point, Man: what didst do all this while?Lean.Faith, I fancy he did not sleep, SirCredulous.Lod.No, Friend, she had too many Charms to keep me waking.Sir Cred.Had she so? I shou’d have beg’d her Charms pardon, I tell her that though.Wit.Curse on my Sloth, Oh, how shall I dissemble?Aside.Lean.Thy Adventure was pretty lucky—but,Wittmore, thou dost not relish it.Wit.My Mind’s upon my Marriage, Sir; if I thought he lov’dIsabella, I wou’d marry her to be reveng’d on him, at least I’ll vex his Soul, as he has tortur’d mine.—Well, Gentlemen, you’ll dine with me,—and give me your opinion of my Wife.Lod.Where dost thou keep the Ceremony?Wit.At SirPatient Fancy’s, my Father-in-law.Lod.How! SirPatient Fancyto be your Father-in-law?Lean.My Uncle?Wit.He’s fir’d,—’tis his Daughter, Sir, I am to marry.—Lod.Isabella! Leander, can it be? can she consent to this? and can she love you?Wit.Why, Sir, what do you see in me, shou’d render me unfit to be belov’d?Angry.Lod.Marry’d to day! by Heaven, it must not be, Sir.Draws him aside.Wit.Why, Sir, I hope this is not the kind Lady who was so soft, so sweet and charming last night.Lod.Hold, Sir,—we yet are Friends.—Wit.And might have still been so, hadst thou not basely rob’d me of my Interest.Lod.Death, do you speak my Language?Ready to draw.Wit.No, take a secret from my angry Heart, which all its Friendship to thee cou’d not make me utter;—it was my Mistress you surpriz’d last night.Lod.Hah, my LadyFancyhis Mistress? Curse on my prating Tongue.Aside.Sir Cred.What a Devil’s all this, hard Words, Heart-burnings, Resentments, and all that?Lean.You are not quarrelling, I hope, my Friends?Lod.All this, Sir, we suspected, and smok’d your borrowing Money last night; and what I said was to gain the mighty secret that had been so long kept from your Friends:—but thou hast done a baseness—Lays his Hand on his Sword.Lean.Hold, what’s the matter?Wit.Did you not rob me of the Victory then I’ve been so long a toiling for?Lod.If I had, ’twould not have made her guilty, nor me a Criminal; she taking me for one she lov’d, and I her for one that had no Interest in my Friend: and who the Devil wou’d have refus’d so fine a Woman? Nor had I but that I was prevented by her Husband.—ButIsabella, Sir, you must resign.Wit.I will, provided that our Friendship’s safe; I am this day to marry her, and if you can find a means to do’t in my room, I shall resign my Interest to my Friend; for ’tis the lovely Mother I adore.Lod.And was it you I fought with in the Garden?Wit.Yes, and thereby hangs a tale of a mistake almost equal to thine, which I’ll at leisure tell you.Talks toLod.andLean.Sir Cred.I’m glad they’re Friends; Zoz, here was like to have been a pretty Business; what damnable work this same Womankind makes in a Nation of Fools that are Lovers?Wit.Look ye, I am a damn’d dull Fellow at Invention, I’ll therefore leave you to contrive matters by your selves, whilst I’ll go try how kind Fortune will be to me this Morning, and see in what readiness my Bride is. What you do must be thought on suddenly; I’ll wait on you anon, and let you know how matters go.—I’m as impatient to know the truth of this, as for an opportunity to enjoyLucia.Goes out.Lod.Leander, what shall I do?Lean.You were best consult your Mother and Sister; Women are best at Intrigues of this kind: But what becomes of me?Lod.Let me alone to dispatch this Fool, I long to have him out of the way, he begins to grow troublesome:—but now my Mother expects you.Lean.Prithee be careful of me.—ExitLean.Sir Cred.What was this long Whisper, something about me?Lod.Why, yes, faith, I was persuading him to speak to his Friend about this Business; but he swears there’s no hopes of a Reconciliation: you are a dead Man, unless some cleanly conveyance of you be soon thought on.Sir Cred.Why, I’ll keep within doors, and defy Malice and foul Weather.Lod.Oh, he means to get a Warrant, and search for stolen Goods, prohibited Commodities or Conventicles; there’s a thousand Civil Pretences in this Town to commit Outrages—let me see.—They both pause a while.Sir Cred.Well, I have thought,—and of such a Business, that the Devil’s in’t if you don’t say I am a man of Intrigue.Lod.What is’t?Sir Cred.Ha, ha, ha, I must have leave to laugh to think how neatly I shall defeat this Son of a Whore of a thunder thumping Hector.Lod.Be serious, Sir, this is no laughing matter; if I might advise, you should steal into the Country, for two or three days, till the Business be blown over.Sir Cred.Lord, thou art so hasty and conceited of thy own Invention, thou wilt not give a Man leave to think in thy company: why, these were my very thoughts; nay more, I have found a way to get off clever, though he watch me as narrowly as an enraged Serjeant upon an Escape.Lod.That indeed wou’d be a Master-piece.Sir Cred.Why, look ye, do you see that great Basket there?Lod.I do,—this you mean.—Pulls in a Basket.Sir Cred.Very well, put me into this Basket, and cord me down, send for a couple of Porters, hoist me away with a Direction, to an old Uncle of mine, one SirAnthony BubletonatBubleton-HallinEssex; and thenwhip slap-dash, asNokessays in the Play, I’m gone, and who’s the wiser?Lod.I like it well.Sir Cred.Nay, lose no time in applauding, I’ll in, the Carrier goes this Morning; farewel,Lodwick.—Goes Into the Basket.I’ll be here again onThursday.Lod.writes a Direction.Enter Boy.Lod.By all means, Sir,—Who’s there,—call a couple of Porters.Exit Boy.Sir Cred.One word more, the Carrier lies attheBellinFriday-street, pray take care they set me not on my Head.—Pops in again.Enter Boy and two Porters.Lod.Come hither, cord up this Basket, and carry it where he shall direct.—Leanderwill never think he’s free from a Rival, till he have him in his possession—To Mr.Leander Fancy’sat the next door; say ’tis things for him out of the Country.—Write a Direction to him on the Basket-lid.Aside to the Boy.Porters going to carry off the Basket on a long Pole between ’em.Enter LadyKnowell.L. Kno.What’s this? whither goes this Basket?Sir Cred.Ah Lord! they are come with the Warrant.Peeps out of the Basket.Lod.Only Books, Madam, offer’d me to buy, but they do not please me.L. Kno.Books! nay then set down the Basket, Fellows, and let me peruse ’em; whoaretheir Authors, and what their Language?Sir Cred.A pox of all Learning, I say,—’tis my Mother-in-law.Porters going to set down the Basket.Lod.Hold, hold, Madam, they are onlyEnglishand some Law-French.L. Kno.Oh, faugh, how I hate that vile sort of Reading! up with ’em again, Fellows, and away.The Porters take up and go out.Lod.God-a-mercy, Law-French.Aside.L. Kno.Law-French! out upon’t, I cou’d find in my heart to have the Porters bring it back, and have it burnt for a Heresy to Learning.Lod.Or thrown into theThames, that it may float back toNormandy, to have the Language new modell’d.L. Kno.You say well; but what’s all thisad Iphicli bonis, where’s SirCredulousall this while? his Affairs expect him.Lod.So doesLeanderyour Ladyship within.L. Kno.Leander! Hymen, Hymenæ, I’ll wait on him,Lodwick; I am resolv’d you shall marryIsabellatoo; I have a design in my head that cannot fail to give you the possession of her within this two or three hours.Lod.Such an Indulgence will make me the happiest of Men, and I have something to say to your Ladyship that will oblige you to hasten the design.L. Kno.Come in, and let me know it.Exeunt.Scene II.A Chamber in SirPatient Fancy’sHouse.A Table and Chairs.Enter LadyFancyin a Morning-dress,Maundywith Pen, Ink and Paper.L. Fan.Wittmorein the Garden, sayst thou, withIsabella! Oh perjur’d Man! it was by his contrivance then I was betray’d last night.Maun.I thought so too at first, Madam, till going to conduct Mr.Knowellthrough the Garden, he finding Mr.Wittmorethere withIsabelladrew on him, and they both fought out of the Garden: what mischief’s done I know not.—But, Madam, I hope Mr.Knowellwas not uncivil to your Ladyship. I had no time to ask what pass’d between you.L. Fan.Oh, name it not: I gave him all I had reserv’d forWittmore. I was so possess’d with the thoughts of thatdear false one, I had no sense free to perceive the cheat:—but I will be reveng’d.—Come let me end my Letter, we are safe from interruption.Maun.Yes, Madam, SirPatientis not yet up, the Doctors have been with him, and tell him he is not so bad as we persuaded him.L. Fan.And was he soft and kind?—By all that’s good, she loves him, and they contriv’d this meeting.—My Pen and Ink—I am impatient to unload my Soul of this great weight of Jealousy.—Sits down, and writes.Enter SirPatient, looking over her Shoulder a tip-toe.Maun.Heaven! here’s SirPatient, Madam.L. Fan.Hah,—and ’tis too late to hide the Paper; I was just going to subscribe my Name.Sir Pat.Good morrow, my LadyFancy, your Ladyship is well employ’d, I see.L. Fan.Indeed I was, and pleasantly too: I am writing a Love-letter, Sir.—But, my Dear, what makes you so soon up?Sir Pat.A Love-letter!—let me see’t.Goes to take it.L. Fan.I’ll read it to you, Sir.Maun.What mean you, Madam?Aside.LadyFancyreads.It was but yesterday you swore you lov’d me, and I poor easy Fool believ’d; but your last Night’s Infidelity has undeceiv’d my Heart, and render’d you the falsest Man that ever Woman sigh’d for. Tell me, how durst you, when I had prepared all things for our Enjoyment, be so great a Devil to deceive my languishing Expectations? and in your room send one that has undoneYour—Maun.Sure she’s mad to read this to him.Sir Pat.Hum,—I profess ingenuously—I think it isindeed a Love-letter. My LadyFancy, what means all this? as I take it, here are Riddles and Mysteries in this Business.L. Fan.Which thus, Sir, I’ll unfold.—Takes the Pen, and writesIsabella.Sir Pat.How! undone—Your—Isabella, meaning my Daughter?L. Fan.Yes, my Dear, going this morning into her Chamber, she not being there, I took up a Letter that lay open on her Table, and out of curiosity read it; as near as I can remember ’twas to this purpose: I writ it out now, because I had a mind thou shou’dst see’t; for I can hide nothing from thee.Sir Pat.A very good Lady, I profess! to whom is it directed?L. Fan.Why,—Sir—What shall I say, I cannot lay it now onLodwick—Aside.I believe she meant it to Mr.Fainlove, for whom else cou’d it be design’d? she being so soon to marry him.Sir Pat.Hah,—Mr.Fainlove! so soon so fond and amorous!L. Fan.Alas, ’tis the excusable fault of all young Women, thou knowst I was just such another Fool to thee, so fond—and so in love.—Sir Pat.Ha,—thou wert indeed, my LadyFancy, indeed thou wert.—But I will keep the Letter however, that this idle Baggage may know I understand her Tricks and Intrigues.Puts up the Letter.L. Fan.Nay then ’twill out: No, I beseech you, Sir, give me the Letter, I wou’d not for the WorldIsabellashou’d know of my theft, ’twou’d appear malicious in me:—Besides, Sir, it does not befit your Gravity to be concern’d in the little Quarrels of Lovers.Sir Pat.Lovers! Tell me not of Lovers, my LadyFancy; with Reverence to your good Ladyship, I value not whether there be Love between ’em or not. PiousWedlock is my Business,—nay, I will let him know his own too, that I will, with your Ladyship’s permission.L. Fan.How unlucky I am!—Sir, as to his Chastisement, use your own discretion, in which you do abound most plentifully. But pray let notIsabellahear of it; for as I wou’d preserve my Duty to thee, by communicating all things to thee, so I wou’d conserve my good Opinion with her.Sir Pat.Ah, what a Blessing I possess in so excellent a Wife! and in regard I am every day descending to my Grave.—ah—I will no longer hide from thee the Provision I have made for thee, in case I die.—L. Fan.This is the Musick that I long’d to hear.—Die!—Oh, that fatal Word will kill me—Weeps.Name it no more, if you’d preserve my Life.Sir Pat.Hah—now cannot I refrain joining with her in affectionate Tears.—No, but do not weep for me, my excellent Lady, for I have made a pretty competent Estate for thee. Eight thousand Pounds, which I have conceal’d in my Study behind the Wainscot on the left hand as you come in.L. Fan.Oh, tell me not of transitory Wealth, for I’m resolv’d not to survive thee. Eight thousand Pound say you?—Oh, I cannot endure the thoughts on’t.Weeps.Sir Pat.Eight thousand Pounds just, my dearest Lady.L. Fan.Oh, you’ll make me desperate in naming it,—is it in Gold or Silver?Sir Pat.In Gold, my dearest, the most part, the rest in Silver.L. Fan.Good Heavens! why should you take such pleasure in afflicting me?Weeps.—Behind the Wainscot say you?Sir Pat.Behind the Wainscot, prithee be pacified,—thou makest me lose my greatest Virtue, Moderation, to see thee thus: alas, we’re all born to die.—L. Fan.Again of dying! Uncharitable Man, why doyou delight in tormenting me?—On the left hand, say you as you go in?Sir Pat.On the left hand, my Love: had ever Man such a Wife?L. Fan.Oh, my Spirits fail me—lead me, or I shall faint,—lead me to the Study, and shew me where ’tis,—for I am able to hear no more of it.Sir Pat.I will, if you will promise indeed and indeed, not to grieve too much.Going to lead her out.EnterWittmore.Wit.Heaven grant me some kind opportunity to speak withLucia! hah, she’s here,—and with her the fond Cuckold her Husband.—Death, he has spy’d me, there’s no avoiding him.—Sir Pat.Oh, are you there, Sir?—Maundy, look to my Lady,—I take it, Sir, you have not dealt well with a Person of my Authority and Gravity.Gropes for the Letter in his pocket.Wit.So this can be nothing less than my being found out to be noYorkshireEsq; a Pox of myGenevaBreeding; it must be so, what the Devil shall I say now?Sir Pat.And this disingenuous dealing does ill become the Person you have represented, I take it.Wit.Represented! ay, there ’tis, wou’d I were handsomely off o’ this Business; neitherLucianorMaundyhave any intelligence in their demure looks that can instruct a Man.—Why, faith, Sir,—I must confess,—I am to blame—and that I have—a—L. Fan.Oh,Maundy, he’ll discover all, what shall we do?Sir Pat.Have what, Sir?Wit.From my violent Passion for your Daughter—L. Fan.Oh, I’m all Confusion.—Wit.Egad, I am i’th wrong, I see byLucia’sLooks.Sir Pat.That you have, Sir, you wou’d say, madea Sport and May-game of the Ingagement of your Word; I take it, Mr.Fainlove, ’tis not like the Stock youcomefrom.Wit.Yes, I was like to have spoil’d all, ’sheart, what fine work I had made—but most certainly he has discover’d my Passion for his Wife.—Well, Impudence assist me—I made, Sir, a trifle of my Word, Sir! from whom have you this Intelligence?Sir Pat.From whom shou’d I, Sir, but from my DaughterIsabella?Wit.Isabella!The malicious Baggage understood to whom my first Courtship was address’d last Night, and has betray’d me.Sir Pat.And, Sir, to let you see I utter nothing without Precaution, pray read that Letter.Wit.Hah—a Letter! what can this mean,—’tisLucia’sHand, withIsabella’sName to’t.—Oh, the dear cunning Creature, to make her Husband the Messenger too.—How, I send one in my room!He reads.L. Fan.Yes, Sir, you think we do not know of the Appointment you made last Night; but having other Affairs in hand than to keep your Promise, you sent Mr.Knowellin your room,—false Man.Wit.I send him, Madam! I wou’d have sooner died.Sir Pat.Sir, as I take it, he cou’d not have known of your Designs and Rendezvous without your Informations.—Were not you to have met my Daughter here to night, Sir?Wit.Yes, Sir, and I hope ’tis no such great Crime, to desire a little Conversation with the fair Person one loves, and is so soon to marry, which I was hinder’d from doing by the greatest and most unlucky Misfortune that ever arriv’d:but for my sending him, Madam, credit me, nothing so much amazes me and afflicts me, as to know he was here.Sir Pat.He speaks well, ingenuously, he does.—Well, Sir, for your Father’s sake, whose Memory I reverence,I will for once forgive you. But let’s have no more Night-works, no more Gambols, I beseech you, good Mr.Fainlove.Wit.I humbly thank ye, Sir, and do beseech you to tell the dear Creature that writ this, that I love her more than Life or Fortune, and that I wou’d sooner have kill’d the Man that usurp’d my place last Night, than have assisted him.L. Fan.Were you not false, then?—Now hang me if I do not credit him.Aside.Sir Pat.Alas, good Lady! how she’s concern’d for my Interest, she’s even jealous for my Daughter.Aside.Wit.False! charge me not with unprofitable Sins; wou’d I refuse a Blessing, or blaspheme a Power that might undo me? wou’d I die in my full vigorous Health, or live in constant Pain? All this I cou’d, sooner than be untrue.Sir Pat.Ingenuously, my LadyFancy, he speaks discreetly, and to purpose.L. Fan.Indeed, my Dear, he does, and like an honest Gentleman: and I shou’d think my self very unreasonable not to believe him.—And, Sir, I’ll undertake your Peace shall be made with your Mistress.Sir Pat.Well, I am the most fortunate Man in a Wife, that ever had the blessing of a good one.Wit.Madam, let me fall at your Feet, and thank you for this Bounty.—Make it your own case, and then consider what returns ought to be made to the most passionate and faithful of Lovers.Kneels.Sir Pat.I profess a wonderful good natur’d Youth, this; rise, Sir, my LadyFancyshall do you all the kind Offices she can, o’ my word, she shall.L. Fan.I’m all Obedience, Sir, and doubtless shall obey you.Sir Pat.You must, indeed you must; and, Sir, I’ll defer your Happiness no longer, this Day you shall be marry’d.Wit.This Day, Sir!—why, the Writings are not made.Sir Pat.No matter, Mr.Fainlove; her Portion shall be equivalent to the Jointure you shall make her, I take it, that’s sufficient.Wit.A Jointure, quoth he! it must be in newEutopianLand then.—And must I depart thus, without a kind Word, a Look, or a Billet, to signify what I am to expect.Looking on her slily.Sir Pat.Come, my LadyFancy, shall I wait on you down to Prayer! Sir, you will get your self in order for your Marriage, the great Affair of human Life; I must to my Morning’s Devotion: Come, Madam.She endeavours to make Signs toWittmore.L. Fan.Alas, Sir, thesadDiscourse you lately made me, has so disorder’d me, and given me such a Pain in my Head, I am not able to endure the Psalm-singing.Sir Pat.This comes of your Weeping; but we’ll omit that part ofth’ Exercise, and have no Psalm sung.L. Fan.Oh, by no means, Sir, ’twill scandalize the Brethren; for you know a Psalm is not sung so much out of Devotion, as ’tis to give notice of our Zeal and pious Intentions: ’tis a kind of Proclamation to the Neighbourhood, and cannot be omitted.—Oh, how my Head aches!Wit.He were a damn’d dull Lover, that cou’d not guess what she meant by this.Aside.Sir Pat.Well, my LadyFancy, your Ladyship shall be obey’d,—come, Sir, we’ll leave her to her Women.Exit SirPat.AsWittmoregoes out, he bows and looks on her; she gives him a Sign.Wit.That kind Look is a sufficient Invitation.Exit.L. Fan.Maundy, follow ’em down, and bringWittmoreback again.—ExitMaun.There’s now a necessity of our contriving to avoid this Marriage handsomly,—and we shall at least make two Hours our own; I never wish’d well to long Prayers till this Minute.EnterWittmore.Wit.Oh my dearLucia!L. Fan.OhWittmore! I long to tell thee what a fatal Mistake had like to have happened last Night.Wit.My Friend has told me all, and how he was prevented by the coming of your Husband from robbing me of those sacred Delights I languish for. Oh, let us not lose inestimable Time in dull talking; but haste to give each other the only Confirmation we can give, how little we are our own.L. Fan.I seeLodwick’sa Man of Honour, and deserves a Heart if I had one to give him.Exeunt.Scene III.A Hall.Enter SirPatientandRoger.Sir Pat.Roger, is Prayer ready,Roger?Rog.Truly nay, Sir, for Mr.Goglehas taken too much of the Creature this Morning, and is not in case, Sir.Sir Pat.How mean you, Sirrah, that Mr.Gogleis overtaken with Drink?Rog.Nay, Sir, he hath over-eaten himself at Breakfast only.Sir Pat.Alas, and that’s soon done, for he hath a sickly Stomach as well as I, poor Man. Where isBartholomewthe Clerk? he must hold forth then to day.Rog.Verily he is also disabled: for going forth last Night by your Commandment to smite the Wicked, he received a blow over thePericranium.—Sir Pat.Why, how now, Sirrah, Latin! the Language of the Beast! hah—and what then, Sir?Rog.Which Blow, I doubt, Sir, hath spoil’d both his Praying and his Eating.Sir Pat.Hah! What a Family’s here? no Prayer to day!EnterNurseandFanny.Nurs.Nay verily it shall all out, I will be no more the dark Lanthorn to the deeds of Darkness.Sir Pat.What’s the matter here?ExitRoger.Nurs.Sir, this young Sinner has long been privy to all the daily and nightly meetings between Mr.LodwickandIsabella; and just now I took her tying a Letter to a String in the Garden, which he drew up to his Window: and I have born it till my Conscience will bear it no longer.Sir Pat.Hah, so young a Baud!—Tell me, Minion—private meeting! tell me truth, I charge ye, when? where? how? and how often? Oh, she’s debauch’d!—her Reputation ruin’d, and she’ll need a double Portion. Come, tell me truth, for thislittleFinger here has told me all.Fan.Oh Geminy, Sir, then that little Finger’s the hougesest great Lyer as ever was.Sir Pat.Huzzy, huzzy—I will have thee whip’d most unmercifully: Nurse, fetch me the Rod.Fan.Oh, pardon me, Sir, this one time, and I’ll tell all.Kneels.—Sir—I have seen him in the Garden, but not very often.Sir Pat.Often! Oh, my Family’s dishonoured. Tell me truly what he us’d to do there, or I will have thee whipt without cessation. Oh, I’m in a cold Sweat; there’s my fine Maid, was he with her long?Fan.Long enough.Sir Pat.Long enough!—oh, ’tis so, long enough,—for what, hah? my dainty Miss, tell me, and didst thou leave ’em?Fan.They us’d to send me to gather Flowers to make Nosegays, Sir.Sir Pat.Ah, Demonstration; ’tis evident if they were left alone that they were naught, I know’t.—And where were they the while? in the close Arbour?—Ay, ay—I will have it cut down, it is the Pent-house of Iniquity, the very Coverlid of Sin.Fan.No, Sir, they sat on the Primrose Bank.Sir Pat.What, did they sit all the while, or stand—or—lie—or—oh, how was’t?Fan.They only sat indeed, Sir Father.Sir Pat.And thou didst not hear a Word they said all the while?Fan.Yes, I did, Sir, and the Man talk’d a great deal of this, and of that, and of t’other, and all the while threw Jessamine in her Bosom.Sir Pat.Well said, and did he nothing else?Fan.No, indeed, Sir Father, nothing.Sir Pat.But what did she say to the Man again?Fan.She said, let me see.—Ay, she said, Lord, you’ll forget your self, and stay till somebody catch us.Sir Pat.Ah, very fine,—then what said he?Fan.Then he said, Well if I must be gone, let me leave thee with this hearty Curse, A Pox take thee all over for making me love thee so confoundedly.Sir Pat.Oh horrible!Fan.—Oh, I cou’d live here for ever,—that was when he kist her—her Hand only. Are you not a damn’d Woman for making so fond a Puppy of me?Sir Pat.Oh unheard-of Wickedness!Fan.Wou’d the Devil had thee, and all thy Family, e’er I had seen thy cursed Face.Sir Pat.Oh, I’ll hear no more, I’ll hear no more!—why, what a blasphemous Wretch is this?Fan.Pray, Sir Father, do not tell my Sister of this, she’ll be horribly angry with me.Sir Pat.No, no, get you gone.—Oh, I am Heart-sick—I’ll up and consult with my Lady what’s fit to be done in this Affair. Oh, never was the like heard of.—Goes out,FannyandNursegothe other way.Scene IV.The LadyFancy’sBed-Chamber; she’s discover’d withWittmorein disorder. A Table, Sword, and Hat.Maun.Entering.O Madam, SirPatient’scoming up.L. Fan.Coming up, say you!Maun.He’s almost on the top of the Stairs, Madam.Wit.What shall I do?L. Fan.Oh, damn him, I know not; if he see thee here after my pretended Illness, he must needs discover why I feign’d.—I have no excuse ready,—this Chamber’s unlucky, there’s no avoiding him; here—step behind the Bed; perhaps he has only forgot his Psalm-Book and will not stay long.Wittmoreruns behind the Bed.Enter SirPatient.Sir Pat.Oh, oh, pardon this Interruption, my LadyFancy—Oh, I am half killed, my Daughter, my Honour—my Daughter, my Reputation.L. Fan.Good Heavens, Sir, is she dead?Sir Pat.I wou’d she were, her Portion and her Honour would then be sav’d. But oh, I’m sick at Heart,Maundy, fetch me the Bottle ofMirabilisin the Closet,—she’s wanton, unchaste.EnterMaundywith the Bottle.Oh, I cannot speak it; oh, the Bottle—Drinks.she has lost her Fame, her Shame, her Name.—Oh,Drinks.that is not the right Bottle, that with the red CorkDrinks.ExitMaundy.and is grown a very t’other-end-of-the-Town Creature, a very Apple ofSodom, fair without and filthy within, what shall we do with her? she’s lost, undone; hah!EnterMaundy.let me see,Drinks.this isDrinks.not as I take it—Drinks.—no, ’tis not the right,—she’s naught, she’s leud,Drinks.—oh, how you vex me—Drinks.This is not the right Bottle yet,—Drinks.No, no, here.Gives her the Bottle.Maun.You said that with the red Cork, Sir.Goes out.Sir Pat.I meant the blue;—I know not what I say.— In fine, my Lady, let’s marry her out of hand, for she is fall’n, fall’n to Perdition; she understands more Wickedness than had she been bred in a profane Nunnery, a Court,EnterMaundy.or a Play-house,Drinks.—therefore let’s marry her instantly, out of handDrinks.Misfortune on Misfortune.Drinks.—But Patience is a wonderful Virtue,Drinks.—Ha—this is very comfortable,—very consoling—I profess if it were not for these Creatures, ravishing Comforts, sometimes, a Man were a very odd sort of an AnimalDrinks.But ah—see how all things were ordain’d for the use and comfort of Man.Drinks.L. Fan.I like this well: Ah, Sir, ’tis very true, therefore receive it plentifully and thankfully.Sir Pat.Drinks.Ingenuously—it hath made me marvellous lightsome; I profess it hath a very notable Faculty,—very knavish—and as it were, waggish,—but hah, what have we there on the Table? a Sword and Hat?SeesWittmore’sSword and Hat on the Table, which he had forgot.L. Fan.Curse on my Dulness.—Oh, these, Sir, they are Mr.Fainlove’s—he being so soon to be marry’d and being straitned for time, sent these toMaundyto be new trim’d with Ribbon, Sir—that’s all. Take ’em away, you naughty Baggage, must I have Mens things seen in my Chamber?Sir Pat.Nay, nay, be not angry, my little Rogue; I like the young Man’s Frugality well. Go, go your ways, get you gone, and finefy your Knacks andTranghams, and do your Business—go.Smiling onMaundy, gently beating her with his Hand: she goes out, he bolts the Door after her, and sits down on the Bed’s feet.L. Fan.Heavens, what means he!Sir Pat.Come hither to me, my little Ape’s Face,—Come, come I say—what, must I come fetch you?—Catch her, catch her—catch her, catch her, catch her.Running after her.L. Fan.Oh, Sir, I am so ill I can hardly stir.Sir Pat.I’ll make ye well, come hither, ye Monky-face, did it, did it, did it? alas for it, a poor silly Fool’s Face, dive it a blow, and I’ll beat it.L. Fan.You neglect your Devotion, Sir.Sir Pat.No, no, no Prayer to day, my little Rascal,—no Prayer to day—poorGogle’ssick.—Come hither, why, you refractory Baggage you, come or I shall touze you, ingenuously I shall; tom, tom, or I’ll whip it.L. Fan.Have you forgot your Daughter, Sir, and your Disgrace?Sir Pat.A fiddle on my Daughter, she’s a Chick of the old Cock I profess; I was just such another Wag when young.—But she shall be marry’d to morrow, a good Cloke for her Knavery; therefore come your ways, ye Wag, we’ll take a nap together: good faith, my little Harlot, I mean thee no harm.L. Fan.No, o’ my Conscience.Sir Pat.Why then, why then, you little Mungrel?L. Fan.His precise Worship is as it were disguis’d, the outward Man is over-taken—pray, Sir, lie down, and I’ll come to you presently.Sir Pat.Away, you Wag, will you? will you?—Catch her there, catch her.L. Fan.I will indeed,—Death, there’s no getting from him,—pray lie down—and I’ll cover thee close enough I’ll warrant thee.—Aside.He lies down, she covers him.Had ever Lovers such spiteful luck! hah—surely he sleeps, bless the mistaken Bottle.—Ay, he sleeps,—whilst,Wittmore—He coming out falls; pulls the Chair down, SirPatientflings open the Curtain.Wit.Plague of my over-care, what shall I do?Sir Pat.What’s that, what Noise is that? let me see, we are not safe; lock up the Doors, what’s the matter? What Thunder-Clap was that?Wittmoreruns under the Bed; she runs to SirPatient, and holds him in his Bed.L. Fan.Pray, Sir, lie still, ’twas I was only going to sit down, and a sudden Giddiness took me in my Head, which made me fall, and with me the Chair; there is no danger near ye, Sir—I was just coming to sleep by you.Sir Pat.Go, you’re a flattering Huswife; go, catch her, catch her, catch her.Lies down, she covers him.L. Fan.Oh, how I tremble at the dismal apprehension of being discover’d! Had I secur’d my self of the eight thousand Pound, I wou’d not valueWittmore’sbeing seen. But now to be found out, wou’d call my Wit in question, for ’tis the Fortunate alone are wise.—Wittmorepeeps from under the Bed; she goes softly to the Door to open it.Wit.Was ever Man so plagu’d?—hah—what’s this?—confound my tell-tale Watch, the Larum goes, and there’s no getting to’t to silence it.—Damn’d Misfortune!SirPatientrises, and flings open the Curtains.
ThouGrief of my Heart, and thou Pearl of my Eyes,D’on thy FlannelPetticoat quickly, and rise;And from thy resplendent Window discoverA Face that wou’d mortify any young Lover:For I, like greatJovetransformed, do wooe,And am amorous Owl, to wit to wooe, to wit to wooe.A Lover, Ads Zoz, is a sort of a ToolThat of all Things you best may compare to an Owl:For in some dark Shades he delights still to sit,And all the Night long he crys wo to wit.Then rise, my brightCloris, andd’on onslip shoe:And hear thy amorous Owl chant, wit to wooe, wit to wooe.
ThouGrief of my Heart, and thou Pearl of my Eyes,
D’on thy FlannelPetticoat quickly, and rise;
And from thy resplendent Window discover
A Face that wou’d mortify any young Lover:
For I, like greatJovetransformed, do wooe,
And am amorous Owl, to wit to wooe, to wit to wooe.
A Lover, Ads Zoz, is a sort of a Tool
That of all Things you best may compare to an Owl:
For in some dark Shades he delights still to sit,
And all the Night long he crys wo to wit.
Then rise, my brightCloris, andd’on onslip shoe:
And hear thy amorous Owl chant, wit to wooe, wit to wooe.
—Well, this won’t do, for I perceive no Window open, nor Lady bright appear, to talk obligingly:—perhaps the Song does not please her: you Ballad-singers, have you no good Songs of another fashion?
1 Man.Yes, Sir, Several,Robin—Hark how the Waters fall, fall, fall!
Sir Cred.How, Man! Zoz, remove us farther off, for fear of wetting.
1 Man.No, no, Sir, I only gave my Fellow a hint of an excellent Ballad that begins—Ill-wedded Joys, how quickly do you fade!Sings.
Sir Cred.Ay, ay, that, we’ll have that,—Ill-wedded Joys, how quickly do you fade,—Sings.That’s excellent! Oh, now the Windows open, now, now shew your capering Tricks.Vaulting.They all play again.
EnterRogerand a Company of Fellows as out of SirPatient’sHouse, led on byAbela precise Clerk, all armed with odd Weapons.
Abel.Verily, verily, here be these Babes of Perdition, these Children of Iniquity.
Rog.A pox of your Babes and Children, they are Men, and Sons of Whores, whom we must bang confoundedly, for not letting honest godly People rest quietly in their Beds at Midnight.
Sir Cred.Who’s there?
Rog.There, with a Pox to you; cannot a Right-worshipful Knight, that has been sick these Twenty Years with taking Physick, sleep quietly in his own House for you; and must we be rais’d out of our Beds to quiet your Hell-pipes, in the Devil’s name?
Abel.Down withGogandMagog, there; there’s the rotten Bell weather that leads the rest astray, and defiles the whole Flock.
Rog.Hang your preaching, and let’s come to him, we’ll maul him.Beat SirCred.
Sir Cred.Oh, Quarter, Quarter, Murder, Help, Murder, Murder!
EnterLodwick.
Lod.Damn these Rascals, who e’er they were, that so unluckily redeem’d a Rival from my Fury,—Hah, they are here,—Egad, I’ll have one touch more with ’em,—the Dogs are spoiling my design’d Serenade too—have amongst ye.—Fights and beats ’em off.SirCredulous, how is’t?
Sir Cred.Who’s there?Lodwick?Oh dear Lad, is’t thou that hast redeem’d me from the inchanted Cudgels that demolish’d my triumphant Pageant, and confounded my Serenade? Zoz, I’m half kill’d, Man,—I have never a whole Bone about me sure.
Lod.Come in with me—a plague upon the Rascal that escap’d me.
Exeunt.
EnterLucretia, followed by SirCredulous.
Lucr.Marry’d to morrow! and leave my Mother the possession ofLeander! I’ll die a thousand Deaths first.—How the Fool haunts me!Aside.
Sir Cred.Nay, delicious Lady, you may say your Pleasure; but I will justify the Serenade to be as high a piece of Gallantry as was ever practised in our Age, though not comparable to your Charms and celestial Graces, which shou’d I praise as I ought, ’twou’d require more time than the Sun employs in his natural Motion between the Tropicks; that is to say, a whole Year, (for by the way, I am noCopernican) for, Dear Madam, you must know, my Rhetorick Master,—I say, my Rhetorick Master, who was—
Lucr.As great a Coxcomb as your self;—pray leave me, I am serious—I must go seek outLodwick.
Sir Cred.Leave ye! I thank you for that, i’faith, before I have spoke out my Speech; therefore I say, Divine Lady—because my Rhetorick Master commanded the frequentuse ofHypallages,Allegories, and the richest Figures of that beauteous Art,—because my Rhetorick—
Lucr.I must leave the Fool, follow if you dare, for I have no leisure to attend your Nonsense.Goes out.
Enter LadyKnowell.
L. Kno.What, alone, SirCredulous? I left you withLucretia.
Sir Cred.Lucretia!I’m sure she makes a veryTarquinius Sextusof me, and all about this Serenade,—I protest and vow, incomparable Lady, I had begun the sweetest Speech to her—though I say’t, such Flowers of Rhetorick—’twou’d have been the very Nosegay of Eloquence, so it wou’d; and like an ungrateful illiterate Woman as she is, she left me in the very middle on’t, so snuffy I’ll warrant.
L. Kno.Be not discourag’d, Sir, I’ll adapt her to a reconciliation: Lovers must sometimes expect these littleBelli fugaces; theGrecianstherefore truly named LoveGlucupicros Eros.
Sir Cred.Nay, bright Lady, I am as little discourag’d as another, but I’m sorry I gave so extraordinary a Serenade to so little purpose.
L. Kno.Name it no more, ’twas only a Gallantry mistaken; but I’ll accelerate your Felicity, and to morrow shall conclude the great dispute, since there is such Volubility and Vicissitude in mundane Affairs.Goes out.
EnterLodwick, stays SirCredulousas he is going out the other way.
Lod.SirCredulous, whither away so fast?
Sir Cred.Zoz, what a Question’s there? dost not know I am to unty the Virgin Zone to morrow, that is, barter Maiden-heads with thy Sister, that is, to be married to her, Man, and I must toLincolns-Innto my Counsel about it?
Lod.My Sister just now told me of it; but, Sir, you must not stir.
Sir Cred.Why, what’s the matter?
Lod.Have you made your Will?
Sir Cred.My Will! no, why my Will, Man?
Lod.Then, for the good of your Friends and Posterity, stir not from this place.
Sir Cred.Good Lord,Lodwick, thou art the strangest Man,—what do you mean to fright a body thus?
Lod.You remember the Serenade last night?
Sir Cred.Remember it? Zoz, I think I do, here be the marks on’t sure.—Pulls off his Peruke, and shews his Head broke.
Lod.Ads me, your Head’s broke.
Sir Cred.My Head broke! why, ’twas a hundred to one but my Neck had been broke.
Lod.Faith, not unlikely,—you know the next House is SirPatient Fancy’s;Isabellatoo, you know, is his Daughter.
Sir Cred.Yes, yes, she was by when I made my dumb Oration.
Lod.The same,—this Lady has a Lover, a mad, furious, fighting, killing Hector, (as you know there are enough about this Town) this Monsieur supposing you to be a Rival, and that your Serenade was address’d to her—
Sir Cred.Enough, I understand you, set those Rogues on to murder me.
Lod.Wou’d ’twere no worse.
Sir Cred.Worse! Zoz, Man, what the Devil can be worse?
Lod.Why, he has vow’d to kill you himself wherever he meets you, and now waits below to that purpose.
Sir Cred.Sha, sha, if that be all, I’ll to him immediately, and make Affidavit I never had any such design. MadamIsabella! ha, ha, alas, poor man, I have some body else to think on.
Lod.Affidavit! why, he’ll not believe you, should you swear your Heart out: some body has possess’d him thatyou are a damn’d Fool, and a most egregious Coward, a Fellow that to save your Life will swear any thing.
Sir Cred.What cursed Luck’s this!—why, how came he to know I liv’d here?
Lod.I believe he might have it fromLeander, who is his Friend.
Sir Cred.Leander!I must confess I never lik’d thatLeandersince yesterday.
Lod.He has deceiv’d us all, that’s the truth on’t; for I have lately found out too, that he’s your Rival, and has a kind of a—
Sir Cred.Smattering to my Mistress, hah, and therefore wou’d not be wanting to give me a lift out of this World; but I shall give her such a go-by—my LadyKnowellunderstands the difference between three Thousand a Year, and—prithee what’s his Estate?
Lod.Shaw—not sufficient to pay Surgeons Bills.
Sir Cred.Alas, poor Rat, how does he live then?
Lod.Hang him, the Ladies keep him; ’tis a good handsome Fellow, and has a pretty Town-Wit.
Sir Cred.He a Wit! what, I’ll warrant he writes Lampoons, rails at Plays, curses all Poetry but his own, and mimicks the Players—ha.
Lod.Some such common Notions he has that deceives the ignorant Rabble, amongst whom he passes for a very smart Fellow,—’life, he’s here.
EnterLeander.
Sir Cred.Why, what shall I do, he will not affront me before Company? hah!
Lod.Not in our House, Sir,—bear up and take no notice on’t.Lod.whispersLean.
Sir Cred.No notice, quoth he? why, my very Fears will betray me.
Lean.Let me alone—Lodwick, I met just now with anItalianMerchant, who has made me such a Present!
Lod.What is’t prithee?
Lean.A Sort of specifick Poison for all the Senses, especially for that of smelling; so that had I a Rival, and I should see him at any reasonable distance, I could direct a little of this Scent up to his Brain so subtlely, that it shall not fail of Execution in a day or two.
Sir Cred.How—Poison!Shewing great Signs of Fear, and holding his Nose.
Lean.Nay, shou’d I see him in the midst of a thousand People, I can so direct it, that it shall assault my Enemy’s Nostrils only, without any effects on the rest of the Company.
Sir Cred.Oh,—I’m a dead Man!
Lod.Is’t possible?
Lean.Perhaps some little sneezing or so, no harm; but my Enemy’s a dead Man, Sir, kill’d.
Sir Cred.Why, this is the most damn’dItalianTrick I ever heard of; why, this outdoes the famous PoisonerMadamBrenvilliers; well, here’s no jesting, I perceive that,Lodwick.
Lod.Fear nothing, I’ll secure you.Aside to him.
EnterWittmore.
—Wittmore!how is’t, Friend! thou lookest cloudy.
Wit.You’ll hardly blame me, Gentlemen, when you shall know what a damn’d unfortunate Rascal I am.
Lod.Prithee what’s the matter?
Wit.Why, I am to be marry’d, Gentlemen, marry’d to day.
Lod.How, marry’d! nay, Gad, then thou’st reason; but to whom prithee?
Wit.There’s the Devil on’t again, to a fine young fair, brisk Woman, that has all the Temptations Heaven can give her.
Lod.What pity ’tis they shou’d be bestow’d to so wicked an end! Is this your Intrigue, that has been so long conceal’d from your Friends?
Lean.We thought it had been some kind Amour, something of Love and Honour.
Lod.Is she rich? if she be wondrous rich, we’ll excuse thee.
Wit.Her Fortune will be suitable to the Jointure I shall make her.
Lod.Nay then ’tis like to prove a hopeful Match; what a Pox can provoke thee to this, dost love her?
Wit.No, there’s another Plague, I am cursedly in love elsewhere; and this was but a false Address, to hide that real one.
Lod.How, love another? in what quality and manner?
Wit.As a Man ought to love, with a good substantial Passion, without any design but that of right-down honest Injoyment.
Lod.Ay, now we understand thee, this is something. Ah Friend, I had such an Adventure last Night.—You may talk of your Intrigues and substantial Pleasures, but if any of you can match mine,—Egad, I’ll forswear Womankind.
Lean.An Adventure! prithee where?
Sir Cred.What, last Night, when you rescued me from theBilbo-Blades! indeed ye look’d a little furiously.
Lod.I had reason, I was just then come out of a Garden from fighting with a Man whom I found with my Mistress; and I had at least known who’t had been, but for the coming of those Rascals that set on you, who parted us, whilst he made his escape in the Croud.
Wit.Death! that was I, who for fear of being known got away: was’t he then that I fought with, and whom I learnt lov’dIsabella?Aside.
Lod.You must know, Gentlemen, I have a sort of a matrimonial Kindness for a very pretty Woman, she whom I tell you I disturb’d in the Garden, and last night she made me an Assignation in her Chamber: when I came to the Garden-door by which I was to have admittance, I found a kind of Necessary call’d a BaudyWaiting-Woman, whom I follow’d, and thought she wou’d have conducted me to the right Woman; but I was luckily and in the dark led into a Lady’s Chamber, who took me for a Lover she expected: I found my happy mistake, and wou’d not undeceive her.
Wit.This could be none butLucia.Aside.
—Well, Sir, and what did you do there?
Lod.Do! why, what dost think? all that a Man inspir’d by Love cou’d do, I followed all the dictates of Nature, Youth, and Vigor.
Wit.Oh, hold, my Heart—or I shall kill the Traitor.Aside.
Sir Cred.Follow’d all the dictates of Nature, Youth and Vigor! prithee what’s that?
Lod.I kiss’d a thousand times her balmy Lips, and greedily took in the nimble Sighs she breath’d into my Soul.
Wit.Oh, I can scarce contain my self.Aside.
Sir Cred.Pshaw, is that all, Man?
Lod.I clasp’d her lovely Body in my Arms,And laid my Bosom to her panting Breast.Trembling she seem’d all Love and soft Desire,And I all Burnings in a youthful Fire.
Lod.I clasp’d her lovely Body in my Arms,
And laid my Bosom to her panting Breast.
Trembling she seem’d all Love and soft Desire,
And I all Burnings in a youthful Fire.
Sir Cred.Bless us, the Man’s in a Rapture!
Wit.Damnation on them both.
Sir Cred.Well, to the point, Man: what didst do all this while?
Lean.Faith, I fancy he did not sleep, SirCredulous.
Lod.No, Friend, she had too many Charms to keep me waking.
Sir Cred.Had she so? I shou’d have beg’d her Charms pardon, I tell her that though.
Wit.Curse on my Sloth, Oh, how shall I dissemble?Aside.
Lean.Thy Adventure was pretty lucky—but,Wittmore, thou dost not relish it.
Wit.My Mind’s upon my Marriage, Sir; if I thought he lov’dIsabella, I wou’d marry her to be reveng’d on him, at least I’ll vex his Soul, as he has tortur’d mine.—Well, Gentlemen, you’ll dine with me,—and give me your opinion of my Wife.
Lod.Where dost thou keep the Ceremony?
Wit.At SirPatient Fancy’s, my Father-in-law.
Lod.How! SirPatient Fancyto be your Father-in-law?
Lean.My Uncle?
Wit.He’s fir’d,—’tis his Daughter, Sir, I am to marry.—
Lod.Isabella! Leander, can it be? can she consent to this? and can she love you?
Wit.Why, Sir, what do you see in me, shou’d render me unfit to be belov’d?Angry.
Lod.Marry’d to day! by Heaven, it must not be, Sir.Draws him aside.
Wit.Why, Sir, I hope this is not the kind Lady who was so soft, so sweet and charming last night.
Lod.Hold, Sir,—we yet are Friends.—
Wit.And might have still been so, hadst thou not basely rob’d me of my Interest.
Lod.Death, do you speak my Language?Ready to draw.
Wit.No, take a secret from my angry Heart, which all its Friendship to thee cou’d not make me utter;—it was my Mistress you surpriz’d last night.
Lod.Hah, my LadyFancyhis Mistress? Curse on my prating Tongue.Aside.
Sir Cred.What a Devil’s all this, hard Words, Heart-burnings, Resentments, and all that?
Lean.You are not quarrelling, I hope, my Friends?
Lod.All this, Sir, we suspected, and smok’d your borrowing Money last night; and what I said was to gain the mighty secret that had been so long kept from your Friends:—but thou hast done a baseness—Lays his Hand on his Sword.
Lean.Hold, what’s the matter?
Wit.Did you not rob me of the Victory then I’ve been so long a toiling for?
Lod.If I had, ’twould not have made her guilty, nor me a Criminal; she taking me for one she lov’d, and I her for one that had no Interest in my Friend: and who the Devil wou’d have refus’d so fine a Woman? Nor had I but that I was prevented by her Husband.—ButIsabella, Sir, you must resign.
Wit.I will, provided that our Friendship’s safe; I am this day to marry her, and if you can find a means to do’t in my room, I shall resign my Interest to my Friend; for ’tis the lovely Mother I adore.
Lod.And was it you I fought with in the Garden?
Wit.Yes, and thereby hangs a tale of a mistake almost equal to thine, which I’ll at leisure tell you.Talks toLod.andLean.
Sir Cred.I’m glad they’re Friends; Zoz, here was like to have been a pretty Business; what damnable work this same Womankind makes in a Nation of Fools that are Lovers?
Wit.Look ye, I am a damn’d dull Fellow at Invention, I’ll therefore leave you to contrive matters by your selves, whilst I’ll go try how kind Fortune will be to me this Morning, and see in what readiness my Bride is. What you do must be thought on suddenly; I’ll wait on you anon, and let you know how matters go.—I’m as impatient to know the truth of this, as for an opportunity to enjoyLucia.Goes out.
Lod.Leander, what shall I do?
Lean.You were best consult your Mother and Sister; Women are best at Intrigues of this kind: But what becomes of me?
Lod.Let me alone to dispatch this Fool, I long to have him out of the way, he begins to grow troublesome:—but now my Mother expects you.
Lean.Prithee be careful of me.—ExitLean.
Sir Cred.What was this long Whisper, something about me?
Lod.Why, yes, faith, I was persuading him to speak to his Friend about this Business; but he swears there’s no hopes of a Reconciliation: you are a dead Man, unless some cleanly conveyance of you be soon thought on.
Sir Cred.Why, I’ll keep within doors, and defy Malice and foul Weather.
Lod.Oh, he means to get a Warrant, and search for stolen Goods, prohibited Commodities or Conventicles; there’s a thousand Civil Pretences in this Town to commit Outrages—let me see.—They both pause a while.
Sir Cred.Well, I have thought,—and of such a Business, that the Devil’s in’t if you don’t say I am a man of Intrigue.
Lod.What is’t?
Sir Cred.Ha, ha, ha, I must have leave to laugh to think how neatly I shall defeat this Son of a Whore of a thunder thumping Hector.
Lod.Be serious, Sir, this is no laughing matter; if I might advise, you should steal into the Country, for two or three days, till the Business be blown over.
Sir Cred.Lord, thou art so hasty and conceited of thy own Invention, thou wilt not give a Man leave to think in thy company: why, these were my very thoughts; nay more, I have found a way to get off clever, though he watch me as narrowly as an enraged Serjeant upon an Escape.
Lod.That indeed wou’d be a Master-piece.
Sir Cred.Why, look ye, do you see that great Basket there?
Lod.I do,—this you mean.—Pulls in a Basket.
Sir Cred.Very well, put me into this Basket, and cord me down, send for a couple of Porters, hoist me away with a Direction, to an old Uncle of mine, one SirAnthony BubletonatBubleton-HallinEssex; and thenwhip slap-dash, asNokessays in the Play, I’m gone, and who’s the wiser?
Lod.I like it well.
Sir Cred.Nay, lose no time in applauding, I’ll in, the Carrier goes this Morning; farewel,Lodwick.—Goes Into the Basket.
I’ll be here again onThursday.Lod.writes a Direction.
Enter Boy.
Lod.By all means, Sir,—Who’s there,—call a couple of Porters.Exit Boy.
Sir Cred.One word more, the Carrier lies attheBellinFriday-street, pray take care they set me not on my Head.—Pops in again.
Enter Boy and two Porters.
Lod.Come hither, cord up this Basket, and carry it where he shall direct.—Leanderwill never think he’s free from a Rival, till he have him in his possession—To Mr.Leander Fancy’sat the next door; say ’tis things for him out of the Country.—Write a Direction to him on the Basket-lid.Aside to the Boy.
Porters going to carry off the Basket on a long Pole between ’em.
Enter LadyKnowell.
L. Kno.What’s this? whither goes this Basket?
Sir Cred.Ah Lord! they are come with the Warrant.Peeps out of the Basket.
Lod.Only Books, Madam, offer’d me to buy, but they do not please me.
L. Kno.Books! nay then set down the Basket, Fellows, and let me peruse ’em; whoaretheir Authors, and what their Language?
Sir Cred.A pox of all Learning, I say,—’tis my Mother-in-law.Porters going to set down the Basket.
Lod.Hold, hold, Madam, they are onlyEnglishand some Law-French.
L. Kno.Oh, faugh, how I hate that vile sort of Reading! up with ’em again, Fellows, and away.The Porters take up and go out.
Lod.God-a-mercy, Law-French.Aside.
L. Kno.Law-French! out upon’t, I cou’d find in my heart to have the Porters bring it back, and have it burnt for a Heresy to Learning.
Lod.Or thrown into theThames, that it may float back toNormandy, to have the Language new modell’d.
L. Kno.You say well; but what’s all thisad Iphicli bonis, where’s SirCredulousall this while? his Affairs expect him.
Lod.So doesLeanderyour Ladyship within.
L. Kno.Leander! Hymen, Hymenæ, I’ll wait on him,Lodwick; I am resolv’d you shall marryIsabellatoo; I have a design in my head that cannot fail to give you the possession of her within this two or three hours.
Lod.Such an Indulgence will make me the happiest of Men, and I have something to say to your Ladyship that will oblige you to hasten the design.
L. Kno.Come in, and let me know it.
Exeunt.
Enter LadyFancyin a Morning-dress,Maundywith Pen, Ink and Paper.
L. Fan.Wittmorein the Garden, sayst thou, withIsabella! Oh perjur’d Man! it was by his contrivance then I was betray’d last night.
Maun.I thought so too at first, Madam, till going to conduct Mr.Knowellthrough the Garden, he finding Mr.Wittmorethere withIsabelladrew on him, and they both fought out of the Garden: what mischief’s done I know not.—But, Madam, I hope Mr.Knowellwas not uncivil to your Ladyship. I had no time to ask what pass’d between you.
L. Fan.Oh, name it not: I gave him all I had reserv’d forWittmore. I was so possess’d with the thoughts of thatdear false one, I had no sense free to perceive the cheat:—but I will be reveng’d.—Come let me end my Letter, we are safe from interruption.
Maun.Yes, Madam, SirPatientis not yet up, the Doctors have been with him, and tell him he is not so bad as we persuaded him.
L. Fan.And was he soft and kind?—By all that’s good, she loves him, and they contriv’d this meeting.—My Pen and Ink—I am impatient to unload my Soul of this great weight of Jealousy.—Sits down, and writes.
Enter SirPatient, looking over her Shoulder a tip-toe.
Maun.Heaven! here’s SirPatient, Madam.
L. Fan.Hah,—and ’tis too late to hide the Paper; I was just going to subscribe my Name.
Sir Pat.Good morrow, my LadyFancy, your Ladyship is well employ’d, I see.
L. Fan.Indeed I was, and pleasantly too: I am writing a Love-letter, Sir.—But, my Dear, what makes you so soon up?
Sir Pat.A Love-letter!—let me see’t.Goes to take it.
L. Fan.I’ll read it to you, Sir.
Maun.What mean you, Madam?Aside.
LadyFancyreads.
It was but yesterday you swore you lov’d me, and I poor easy Fool believ’d; but your last Night’s Infidelity has undeceiv’d my Heart, and render’d you the falsest Man that ever Woman sigh’d for. Tell me, how durst you, when I had prepared all things for our Enjoyment, be so great a Devil to deceive my languishing Expectations? and in your room send one that has undone
Your—
Maun.Sure she’s mad to read this to him.
Sir Pat.Hum,—I profess ingenuously—I think it isindeed a Love-letter. My LadyFancy, what means all this? as I take it, here are Riddles and Mysteries in this Business.
L. Fan.Which thus, Sir, I’ll unfold.—Takes the Pen, and writesIsabella.
Sir Pat.How! undone—Your—Isabella, meaning my Daughter?
L. Fan.Yes, my Dear, going this morning into her Chamber, she not being there, I took up a Letter that lay open on her Table, and out of curiosity read it; as near as I can remember ’twas to this purpose: I writ it out now, because I had a mind thou shou’dst see’t; for I can hide nothing from thee.
Sir Pat.A very good Lady, I profess! to whom is it directed?
L. Fan.Why,—Sir—What shall I say, I cannot lay it now onLodwick—Aside.
I believe she meant it to Mr.Fainlove, for whom else cou’d it be design’d? she being so soon to marry him.
Sir Pat.Hah,—Mr.Fainlove! so soon so fond and amorous!
L. Fan.Alas, ’tis the excusable fault of all young Women, thou knowst I was just such another Fool to thee, so fond—and so in love.—
Sir Pat.Ha,—thou wert indeed, my LadyFancy, indeed thou wert.—But I will keep the Letter however, that this idle Baggage may know I understand her Tricks and Intrigues.Puts up the Letter.
L. Fan.Nay then ’twill out: No, I beseech you, Sir, give me the Letter, I wou’d not for the WorldIsabellashou’d know of my theft, ’twou’d appear malicious in me:—Besides, Sir, it does not befit your Gravity to be concern’d in the little Quarrels of Lovers.
Sir Pat.Lovers! Tell me not of Lovers, my LadyFancy; with Reverence to your good Ladyship, I value not whether there be Love between ’em or not. PiousWedlock is my Business,—nay, I will let him know his own too, that I will, with your Ladyship’s permission.
L. Fan.How unlucky I am!—Sir, as to his Chastisement, use your own discretion, in which you do abound most plentifully. But pray let notIsabellahear of it; for as I wou’d preserve my Duty to thee, by communicating all things to thee, so I wou’d conserve my good Opinion with her.
Sir Pat.Ah, what a Blessing I possess in so excellent a Wife! and in regard I am every day descending to my Grave.—ah—I will no longer hide from thee the Provision I have made for thee, in case I die.—
L. Fan.This is the Musick that I long’d to hear.—Die!—Oh, that fatal Word will kill me—Weeps.
Name it no more, if you’d preserve my Life.
Sir Pat.Hah—now cannot I refrain joining with her in affectionate Tears.—No, but do not weep for me, my excellent Lady, for I have made a pretty competent Estate for thee. Eight thousand Pounds, which I have conceal’d in my Study behind the Wainscot on the left hand as you come in.
L. Fan.Oh, tell me not of transitory Wealth, for I’m resolv’d not to survive thee. Eight thousand Pound say you?—Oh, I cannot endure the thoughts on’t.Weeps.
Sir Pat.Eight thousand Pounds just, my dearest Lady.
L. Fan.Oh, you’ll make me desperate in naming it,—is it in Gold or Silver?
Sir Pat.In Gold, my dearest, the most part, the rest in Silver.
L. Fan.Good Heavens! why should you take such pleasure in afflicting me?Weeps.—Behind the Wainscot say you?
Sir Pat.Behind the Wainscot, prithee be pacified,—thou makest me lose my greatest Virtue, Moderation, to see thee thus: alas, we’re all born to die.—
L. Fan.Again of dying! Uncharitable Man, why doyou delight in tormenting me?—On the left hand, say you as you go in?
Sir Pat.On the left hand, my Love: had ever Man such a Wife?
L. Fan.Oh, my Spirits fail me—lead me, or I shall faint,—lead me to the Study, and shew me where ’tis,—for I am able to hear no more of it.
Sir Pat.I will, if you will promise indeed and indeed, not to grieve too much.Going to lead her out.
EnterWittmore.
Wit.Heaven grant me some kind opportunity to speak withLucia! hah, she’s here,—and with her the fond Cuckold her Husband.—Death, he has spy’d me, there’s no avoiding him.—
Sir Pat.Oh, are you there, Sir?—Maundy, look to my Lady,—I take it, Sir, you have not dealt well with a Person of my Authority and Gravity.Gropes for the Letter in his pocket.
Wit.So this can be nothing less than my being found out to be noYorkshireEsq; a Pox of myGenevaBreeding; it must be so, what the Devil shall I say now?
Sir Pat.And this disingenuous dealing does ill become the Person you have represented, I take it.
Wit.Represented! ay, there ’tis, wou’d I were handsomely off o’ this Business; neitherLucianorMaundyhave any intelligence in their demure looks that can instruct a Man.—Why, faith, Sir,—I must confess,—I am to blame—and that I have—a—
L. Fan.Oh,Maundy, he’ll discover all, what shall we do?
Sir Pat.Have what, Sir?
Wit.From my violent Passion for your Daughter—
L. Fan.Oh, I’m all Confusion.—
Wit.Egad, I am i’th wrong, I see byLucia’sLooks.
Sir Pat.That you have, Sir, you wou’d say, madea Sport and May-game of the Ingagement of your Word; I take it, Mr.Fainlove, ’tis not like the Stock youcomefrom.
Wit.Yes, I was like to have spoil’d all, ’sheart, what fine work I had made—but most certainly he has discover’d my Passion for his Wife.—Well, Impudence assist me—I made, Sir, a trifle of my Word, Sir! from whom have you this Intelligence?
Sir Pat.From whom shou’d I, Sir, but from my DaughterIsabella?
Wit.Isabella!The malicious Baggage understood to whom my first Courtship was address’d last Night, and has betray’d me.
Sir Pat.And, Sir, to let you see I utter nothing without Precaution, pray read that Letter.
Wit.Hah—a Letter! what can this mean,—’tisLucia’sHand, withIsabella’sName to’t.—Oh, the dear cunning Creature, to make her Husband the Messenger too.—How, I send one in my room!He reads.
L. Fan.Yes, Sir, you think we do not know of the Appointment you made last Night; but having other Affairs in hand than to keep your Promise, you sent Mr.Knowellin your room,—false Man.
Wit.I send him, Madam! I wou’d have sooner died.
Sir Pat.Sir, as I take it, he cou’d not have known of your Designs and Rendezvous without your Informations.—Were not you to have met my Daughter here to night, Sir?
Wit.Yes, Sir, and I hope ’tis no such great Crime, to desire a little Conversation with the fair Person one loves, and is so soon to marry, which I was hinder’d from doing by the greatest and most unlucky Misfortune that ever arriv’d:but for my sending him, Madam, credit me, nothing so much amazes me and afflicts me, as to know he was here.
Sir Pat.He speaks well, ingenuously, he does.—Well, Sir, for your Father’s sake, whose Memory I reverence,I will for once forgive you. But let’s have no more Night-works, no more Gambols, I beseech you, good Mr.Fainlove.
Wit.I humbly thank ye, Sir, and do beseech you to tell the dear Creature that writ this, that I love her more than Life or Fortune, and that I wou’d sooner have kill’d the Man that usurp’d my place last Night, than have assisted him.
L. Fan.Were you not false, then?—Now hang me if I do not credit him.Aside.
Sir Pat.Alas, good Lady! how she’s concern’d for my Interest, she’s even jealous for my Daughter.Aside.
Wit.False! charge me not with unprofitable Sins; wou’d I refuse a Blessing, or blaspheme a Power that might undo me? wou’d I die in my full vigorous Health, or live in constant Pain? All this I cou’d, sooner than be untrue.
Sir Pat.Ingenuously, my LadyFancy, he speaks discreetly, and to purpose.
L. Fan.Indeed, my Dear, he does, and like an honest Gentleman: and I shou’d think my self very unreasonable not to believe him.—And, Sir, I’ll undertake your Peace shall be made with your Mistress.
Sir Pat.Well, I am the most fortunate Man in a Wife, that ever had the blessing of a good one.
Wit.Madam, let me fall at your Feet, and thank you for this Bounty.—Make it your own case, and then consider what returns ought to be made to the most passionate and faithful of Lovers.Kneels.
Sir Pat.I profess a wonderful good natur’d Youth, this; rise, Sir, my LadyFancyshall do you all the kind Offices she can, o’ my word, she shall.
L. Fan.I’m all Obedience, Sir, and doubtless shall obey you.
Sir Pat.You must, indeed you must; and, Sir, I’ll defer your Happiness no longer, this Day you shall be marry’d.
Wit.This Day, Sir!—why, the Writings are not made.
Sir Pat.No matter, Mr.Fainlove; her Portion shall be equivalent to the Jointure you shall make her, I take it, that’s sufficient.
Wit.A Jointure, quoth he! it must be in newEutopianLand then.—And must I depart thus, without a kind Word, a Look, or a Billet, to signify what I am to expect.Looking on her slily.
Sir Pat.Come, my LadyFancy, shall I wait on you down to Prayer! Sir, you will get your self in order for your Marriage, the great Affair of human Life; I must to my Morning’s Devotion: Come, Madam.She endeavours to make Signs toWittmore.
L. Fan.Alas, Sir, thesadDiscourse you lately made me, has so disorder’d me, and given me such a Pain in my Head, I am not able to endure the Psalm-singing.
Sir Pat.This comes of your Weeping; but we’ll omit that part ofth’ Exercise, and have no Psalm sung.
L. Fan.Oh, by no means, Sir, ’twill scandalize the Brethren; for you know a Psalm is not sung so much out of Devotion, as ’tis to give notice of our Zeal and pious Intentions: ’tis a kind of Proclamation to the Neighbourhood, and cannot be omitted.—Oh, how my Head aches!
Wit.He were a damn’d dull Lover, that cou’d not guess what she meant by this.Aside.
Sir Pat.Well, my LadyFancy, your Ladyship shall be obey’d,—come, Sir, we’ll leave her to her Women.Exit SirPat.
AsWittmoregoes out, he bows and looks on her; she gives him a Sign.
Wit.That kind Look is a sufficient Invitation.Exit.
L. Fan.Maundy, follow ’em down, and bringWittmoreback again.—ExitMaun.There’s now a necessity of our contriving to avoid this Marriage handsomly,—and we shall at least make two Hours our own; I never wish’d well to long Prayers till this Minute.
EnterWittmore.
Wit.Oh my dearLucia!
L. Fan.OhWittmore! I long to tell thee what a fatal Mistake had like to have happened last Night.
Wit.My Friend has told me all, and how he was prevented by the coming of your Husband from robbing me of those sacred Delights I languish for. Oh, let us not lose inestimable Time in dull talking; but haste to give each other the only Confirmation we can give, how little we are our own.
L. Fan.I seeLodwick’sa Man of Honour, and deserves a Heart if I had one to give him.
Exeunt.
Enter SirPatientandRoger.
Sir Pat.Roger, is Prayer ready,Roger?
Rog.Truly nay, Sir, for Mr.Goglehas taken too much of the Creature this Morning, and is not in case, Sir.
Sir Pat.How mean you, Sirrah, that Mr.Gogleis overtaken with Drink?
Rog.Nay, Sir, he hath over-eaten himself at Breakfast only.
Sir Pat.Alas, and that’s soon done, for he hath a sickly Stomach as well as I, poor Man. Where isBartholomewthe Clerk? he must hold forth then to day.
Rog.Verily he is also disabled: for going forth last Night by your Commandment to smite the Wicked, he received a blow over thePericranium.—
Sir Pat.Why, how now, Sirrah, Latin! the Language of the Beast! hah—and what then, Sir?
Rog.Which Blow, I doubt, Sir, hath spoil’d both his Praying and his Eating.
Sir Pat.Hah! What a Family’s here? no Prayer to day!
EnterNurseandFanny.
Nurs.Nay verily it shall all out, I will be no more the dark Lanthorn to the deeds of Darkness.
Sir Pat.What’s the matter here?ExitRoger.
Nurs.Sir, this young Sinner has long been privy to all the daily and nightly meetings between Mr.LodwickandIsabella; and just now I took her tying a Letter to a String in the Garden, which he drew up to his Window: and I have born it till my Conscience will bear it no longer.
Sir Pat.Hah, so young a Baud!—Tell me, Minion—private meeting! tell me truth, I charge ye, when? where? how? and how often? Oh, she’s debauch’d!—her Reputation ruin’d, and she’ll need a double Portion. Come, tell me truth, for thislittleFinger here has told me all.
Fan.Oh Geminy, Sir, then that little Finger’s the hougesest great Lyer as ever was.
Sir Pat.Huzzy, huzzy—I will have thee whip’d most unmercifully: Nurse, fetch me the Rod.
Fan.Oh, pardon me, Sir, this one time, and I’ll tell all.Kneels.
—Sir—I have seen him in the Garden, but not very often.
Sir Pat.Often! Oh, my Family’s dishonoured. Tell me truly what he us’d to do there, or I will have thee whipt without cessation. Oh, I’m in a cold Sweat; there’s my fine Maid, was he with her long?
Fan.Long enough.
Sir Pat.Long enough!—oh, ’tis so, long enough,—for what, hah? my dainty Miss, tell me, and didst thou leave ’em?
Fan.They us’d to send me to gather Flowers to make Nosegays, Sir.
Sir Pat.Ah, Demonstration; ’tis evident if they were left alone that they were naught, I know’t.—And where were they the while? in the close Arbour?—Ay, ay—I will have it cut down, it is the Pent-house of Iniquity, the very Coverlid of Sin.
Fan.No, Sir, they sat on the Primrose Bank.
Sir Pat.What, did they sit all the while, or stand—or—lie—or—oh, how was’t?
Fan.They only sat indeed, Sir Father.
Sir Pat.And thou didst not hear a Word they said all the while?
Fan.Yes, I did, Sir, and the Man talk’d a great deal of this, and of that, and of t’other, and all the while threw Jessamine in her Bosom.
Sir Pat.Well said, and did he nothing else?
Fan.No, indeed, Sir Father, nothing.
Sir Pat.But what did she say to the Man again?
Fan.She said, let me see.—Ay, she said, Lord, you’ll forget your self, and stay till somebody catch us.
Sir Pat.Ah, very fine,—then what said he?
Fan.Then he said, Well if I must be gone, let me leave thee with this hearty Curse, A Pox take thee all over for making me love thee so confoundedly.
Sir Pat.Oh horrible!
Fan.—Oh, I cou’d live here for ever,—that was when he kist her—her Hand only. Are you not a damn’d Woman for making so fond a Puppy of me?
Sir Pat.Oh unheard-of Wickedness!
Fan.Wou’d the Devil had thee, and all thy Family, e’er I had seen thy cursed Face.
Sir Pat.Oh, I’ll hear no more, I’ll hear no more!—why, what a blasphemous Wretch is this?
Fan.Pray, Sir Father, do not tell my Sister of this, she’ll be horribly angry with me.
Sir Pat.No, no, get you gone.—Oh, I am Heart-sick—I’ll up and consult with my Lady what’s fit to be done in this Affair. Oh, never was the like heard of.—
Goes out,FannyandNursegothe other way.
Maun.Entering.O Madam, SirPatient’scoming up.
L. Fan.Coming up, say you!
Maun.He’s almost on the top of the Stairs, Madam.
Wit.What shall I do?
L. Fan.Oh, damn him, I know not; if he see thee here after my pretended Illness, he must needs discover why I feign’d.—I have no excuse ready,—this Chamber’s unlucky, there’s no avoiding him; here—step behind the Bed; perhaps he has only forgot his Psalm-Book and will not stay long.Wittmoreruns behind the Bed.
Enter SirPatient.
Sir Pat.Oh, oh, pardon this Interruption, my LadyFancy—Oh, I am half killed, my Daughter, my Honour—my Daughter, my Reputation.
L. Fan.Good Heavens, Sir, is she dead?
Sir Pat.I wou’d she were, her Portion and her Honour would then be sav’d. But oh, I’m sick at Heart,Maundy, fetch me the Bottle ofMirabilisin the Closet,—she’s wanton, unchaste.
EnterMaundywith the Bottle.
Oh, I cannot speak it; oh, the Bottle—Drinks.she has lost her Fame, her Shame, her Name.—Oh,Drinks.that is not the right Bottle, that with the red CorkDrinks.ExitMaundy.
and is grown a very t’other-end-of-the-Town Creature, a very Apple ofSodom, fair without and filthy within, what shall we do with her? she’s lost, undone; hah!
EnterMaundy.
let me see,Drinks.this isDrinks.not as I take it—Drinks.—no, ’tis not the right,—she’s naught, she’s leud,Drinks.—oh, how you vex me—Drinks.This is not the right Bottle yet,—Drinks.No, no, here.Gives her the Bottle.
Maun.You said that with the red Cork, Sir.Goes out.
Sir Pat.I meant the blue;—I know not what I say.— In fine, my Lady, let’s marry her out of hand, for she is fall’n, fall’n to Perdition; she understands more Wickedness than had she been bred in a profane Nunnery, a Court,
EnterMaundy.
or a Play-house,Drinks.—therefore let’s marry her instantly, out of handDrinks.Misfortune on Misfortune.Drinks.—But Patience is a wonderful Virtue,Drinks.—Ha—this is very comfortable,—very consoling—I profess if it were not for these Creatures, ravishing Comforts, sometimes, a Man were a very odd sort of an AnimalDrinks.But ah—see how all things were ordain’d for the use and comfort of Man.Drinks.
L. Fan.I like this well: Ah, Sir, ’tis very true, therefore receive it plentifully and thankfully.
Sir Pat.Drinks.Ingenuously—it hath made me marvellous lightsome; I profess it hath a very notable Faculty,—very knavish—and as it were, waggish,—but hah, what have we there on the Table? a Sword and Hat?SeesWittmore’sSword and Hat on the Table, which he had forgot.
L. Fan.Curse on my Dulness.—Oh, these, Sir, they are Mr.Fainlove’s—he being so soon to be marry’d and being straitned for time, sent these toMaundyto be new trim’d with Ribbon, Sir—that’s all. Take ’em away, you naughty Baggage, must I have Mens things seen in my Chamber?
Sir Pat.Nay, nay, be not angry, my little Rogue; I like the young Man’s Frugality well. Go, go your ways, get you gone, and finefy your Knacks andTranghams, and do your Business—go.
Smiling onMaundy, gently beating her with his Hand: she goes out, he bolts the Door after her, and sits down on the Bed’s feet.
L. Fan.Heavens, what means he!
Sir Pat.Come hither to me, my little Ape’s Face,—Come, come I say—what, must I come fetch you?—Catch her, catch her—catch her, catch her, catch her.Running after her.
L. Fan.Oh, Sir, I am so ill I can hardly stir.
Sir Pat.I’ll make ye well, come hither, ye Monky-face, did it, did it, did it? alas for it, a poor silly Fool’s Face, dive it a blow, and I’ll beat it.
L. Fan.You neglect your Devotion, Sir.
Sir Pat.No, no, no Prayer to day, my little Rascal,—no Prayer to day—poorGogle’ssick.—Come hither, why, you refractory Baggage you, come or I shall touze you, ingenuously I shall; tom, tom, or I’ll whip it.
L. Fan.Have you forgot your Daughter, Sir, and your Disgrace?
Sir Pat.A fiddle on my Daughter, she’s a Chick of the old Cock I profess; I was just such another Wag when young.—But she shall be marry’d to morrow, a good Cloke for her Knavery; therefore come your ways, ye Wag, we’ll take a nap together: good faith, my little Harlot, I mean thee no harm.
L. Fan.No, o’ my Conscience.
Sir Pat.Why then, why then, you little Mungrel?
L. Fan.His precise Worship is as it were disguis’d, the outward Man is over-taken—pray, Sir, lie down, and I’ll come to you presently.
Sir Pat.Away, you Wag, will you? will you?—Catch her there, catch her.
L. Fan.I will indeed,—Death, there’s no getting from him,—pray lie down—and I’ll cover thee close enough I’ll warrant thee.—Aside.He lies down, she covers him.
Had ever Lovers such spiteful luck! hah—surely he sleeps, bless the mistaken Bottle.—Ay, he sleeps,—whilst,Wittmore—
He coming out falls; pulls the Chair down, SirPatientflings open the Curtain.
Wit.Plague of my over-care, what shall I do?
Sir Pat.What’s that, what Noise is that? let me see, we are not safe; lock up the Doors, what’s the matter? What Thunder-Clap was that?
Wittmoreruns under the Bed; she runs to SirPatient, and holds him in his Bed.
L. Fan.Pray, Sir, lie still, ’twas I was only going to sit down, and a sudden Giddiness took me in my Head, which made me fall, and with me the Chair; there is no danger near ye, Sir—I was just coming to sleep by you.
Sir Pat.Go, you’re a flattering Huswife; go, catch her, catch her, catch her.Lies down, she covers him.
L. Fan.Oh, how I tremble at the dismal apprehension of being discover’d! Had I secur’d my self of the eight thousand Pound, I wou’d not valueWittmore’sbeing seen. But now to be found out, wou’d call my Wit in question, for ’tis the Fortunate alone are wise.—
Wittmorepeeps from under the Bed; she goes softly to the Door to open it.
Wit.Was ever Man so plagu’d?—hah—what’s this?—confound my tell-tale Watch, the Larum goes, and there’s no getting to’t to silence it.—Damn’d Misfortune!SirPatientrises, and flings open the Curtains.