Cour.Where shall these lovely eyes and earsHear my plaints, and see my tears?Sylv.At that kind hour thy griefs shall end,If thou canst know thy foe from thy friend.[Exit.
Cour.Where shall these lovely eyes and earsHear my plaints, and see my tears?
Sylv.At that kind hour thy griefs shall end,If thou canst know thy foe from thy friend.[Exit.
Cour.Here's another trick of the devil now; under that window between the hours of eleven and twelve exactly! I am a damned fool, and must go: let me see; suppose I meet with a lusty beating: pish, that's nothing for a man that's in love; or suppose she contrive some way to make a public coxcomb of me, and expose me to the scorn of the world, for an example to all amorous blockheads hereafter? why, if she do, I'll swear I have lain with her; beat her relations, if they pretend to vindicate her; and so there's one love-intrigue pretty well over. [Exit.
Cour.Here's another trick of the devil now; under that window between the hours of eleven and twelve exactly! I am a damned fool, and must go: let me see; suppose I meet with a lusty beating: pish, that's nothing for a man that's in love; or suppose she contrive some way to make a public coxcomb of me, and expose me to the scorn of the world, for an example to all amorous blockheads hereafter? why, if she do, I'll swear I have lain with her; beat her relations, if they pretend to vindicate her; and so there's one love-intrigue pretty well over. [Exit.
EnterSirDavy DunceandVermin.
Sir Dav.Go, get you in to your lady now, and tell her I am coming.Ver.Her ladyship, right worshipful, is pleased not to be at home.Sir Dav.How's that? my lady not at home! Run, run in and ask when she went forth, whither she is gone, and who is with her; run and ask, Vermin.Ver.She went out in her chair presently after you this afternoon.Sir Dav.Then I may be a cuckold still for aught I know: what will become of me? I have surely lost, and ne'er shall find her more; she promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back again; for aught I know she may be up three pair of stairs in the Temple now.Ver.Is her ladyship in law then, sir?Sir Dav.Or it may be taking the air as far as Knightsbridge, with some smooth-faced rogue or another. 'Tis a damned house, that Swan: that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house, Vermin.Ver.Do you think she is there then?Sir Dav.No, I do not think she is there neither; but such a thing may be, you know: would that Barn-Elms was under water too! there's a thousand cuckolds a year made at Barn-Elms by Rosamond's Ponds:[40]the devil! if she should be there this evening my heart's broke.
Sir Dav.Go, get you in to your lady now, and tell her I am coming.
Ver.Her ladyship, right worshipful, is pleased not to be at home.
Sir Dav.How's that? my lady not at home! Run, run in and ask when she went forth, whither she is gone, and who is with her; run and ask, Vermin.
Ver.She went out in her chair presently after you this afternoon.
Sir Dav.Then I may be a cuckold still for aught I know: what will become of me? I have surely lost, and ne'er shall find her more; she promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back again; for aught I know she may be up three pair of stairs in the Temple now.
Ver.Is her ladyship in law then, sir?
Sir Dav.Or it may be taking the air as far as Knightsbridge, with some smooth-faced rogue or another. 'Tis a damned house, that Swan: that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house, Vermin.
Ver.Do you think she is there then?
Sir Dav.No, I do not think she is there neither; but such a thing may be, you know: would that Barn-Elms was under water too! there's a thousand cuckolds a year made at Barn-Elms by Rosamond's Ponds:[40]the devil! if she should be there this evening my heart's broke.
EnterSirJolly.
Sir Jol.That must be Sir Davy; ay, that's he, that's he, ha, ha, ha; was ever the like heard of? was ever anything so pleasant?Sir Dav.I'll lock her up three days and three nights without meat, drink, or light; I'll humble her in the devil's name.Sir Jol.Well, could I but meet my friend Sir Davy, it would be the joyfullest news for him—Sir Dav.Who's there that has anything to say to me?Sir Jol.Ah, my friend of friends, such news, such tidings!Sir Dav.I have lost my wife, man.Sir Jol.Lost her! she's not dead, I hope?Sir Dav.Yes. Alas, she's dead, irrecoverably lost!Sir Jol.Why, I parted with her within this half-hour.Sir Dav.Did you so? are you sure it was she? where was it? I'll have my lord chief-justice's warrant and a constable presently.Sir Jol.And she made the purest sport now with a young fellow, man, that she met withal accidentally.Sir Dav.O Lord, that's worse and worse! a young fellow!—my wife making sport with a young fellow! O Lord! here are doings, here are vagaries! I'll run mad. I'll climb Bow-steeple presently, bestride the dragon, and preach cuckoldom to the whole city.Sir Jol.The best of all was, too, that it happened to be an idle coxcomb that pretended to be in love with her, neighbour.Sir Dav.Indeed! in love with her! who was it? what's his name? I warrant you won't tell a body—I'll indict him in the Crown-office; no, I'll issue warrants to apprehend him for treason upon the statute of Edward 19. Won't you tell me what young fellow it was? was it a very handsome young fellow, ha?Sir Jol.Handsome? yes, hang him; the fellow's handsome enough: he is not very handsome neither, but he has a devilish leering black eye.Sir Dav.O Lord!Sir Jol.His face too is a good riding face; 'tis no soft effeminate complexion indeed, but his countenance is ruddy, sanguine, and cheerful; a devilish fellow in a corner, I'll warrant him.Sir Dav.Bless us! what will become of me? Why the devil did I marry a young wife? Is he very well shaped too, tall, straight, and proportionable, ha?Sir Jol.Tall? no, he's not very tall neither, yet he is tall enough too: he's none of your overgrown, lubberly Flanders jades, but more of the true English breed, well-knit, able, and fit for service, old boy; the fellow is well shaped truly, very well proportioned, strong and active. I have seen the rogue leap like a buck.Sir Dav.Who can this be? Well, and what think you, friend, has he been there? Come, come, I'msensible she's a young woman; and I am an old fellow—troth, a very old fellow, I signify little or nothing now. But do you think he has prevailed? am I cuckold, neighbour?Sir Jol.Cuckold! what, a cuckold in Covent-garden! no, I'll assure you, I believe her to be the most virtuous woman in the world; but if you had but seen—Sir Dav.Ay, would I had! what was it?Sir Jol.How like a rogue she used him: first of all comes me up the spark to her. "Madam," says he—and then he bows down, thus. "How now," says she, "what would the impertinent fellow have?"Sir Dav.Humph! ha! well, and what then?Sir Jol."Madam," says he again, bowing as he did before, "my heart is so entirely yours, that except you take pity on my sufferings I must here die at your feet."Sir Dav.So, and what said she again, neighbour? ha!Sir Jol."Go, you are a fop."Sir Dav.Ha, ha, ha! did she indeed? Did she say so indeed? I am glad on't, troth, I am very glad on't. Well, and what next? And how, and well, and what? ha!Sir Jol."Madam," says he, "this won't do; I am your humble servant for all this; you may pretend to be as ill-natured as you please, but I shall make bold."Sir Dav.Was there ever such an impudent fellow?Sir Jol.With that, "Sirrah," says she, "you are a saucy jackanapes, and I'll have you kicked."Sir Dav.Ha, ha, ha! Well, I would not be unmarried again to be an angel.Sir Jol.But the best jest of all was, who this should be at last.Sir Dav.Ay, who indeed! I'll warrant you some silly fellow or other, poor fool!Sir Jol.E'en a scandalous rakehell, that lingers up and down the town by the name of Captain Beaugard; but he has been a bloody cuckold-making scoundrel in his time.Sir Dav.Hang him, sot, is it he? I don't value him this, not a wet finger, man. To my knowledge she hates him, she scorns him, neighbour; I know it, I am very well satisfied in the point; besides, I have seen him since that, and out-hectored him: I am to tell her from his own mouth, that he promises never to affront her more.Sir Jol.Indeed!Sir Dav.Ay, ay—
Sir Jol.That must be Sir Davy; ay, that's he, that's he, ha, ha, ha; was ever the like heard of? was ever anything so pleasant?
Sir Dav.I'll lock her up three days and three nights without meat, drink, or light; I'll humble her in the devil's name.
Sir Jol.Well, could I but meet my friend Sir Davy, it would be the joyfullest news for him—
Sir Dav.Who's there that has anything to say to me?
Sir Jol.Ah, my friend of friends, such news, such tidings!
Sir Dav.I have lost my wife, man.
Sir Jol.Lost her! she's not dead, I hope?
Sir Dav.Yes. Alas, she's dead, irrecoverably lost!
Sir Jol.Why, I parted with her within this half-hour.
Sir Dav.Did you so? are you sure it was she? where was it? I'll have my lord chief-justice's warrant and a constable presently.
Sir Jol.And she made the purest sport now with a young fellow, man, that she met withal accidentally.
Sir Dav.O Lord, that's worse and worse! a young fellow!—my wife making sport with a young fellow! O Lord! here are doings, here are vagaries! I'll run mad. I'll climb Bow-steeple presently, bestride the dragon, and preach cuckoldom to the whole city.
Sir Jol.The best of all was, too, that it happened to be an idle coxcomb that pretended to be in love with her, neighbour.
Sir Dav.Indeed! in love with her! who was it? what's his name? I warrant you won't tell a body—I'll indict him in the Crown-office; no, I'll issue warrants to apprehend him for treason upon the statute of Edward 19. Won't you tell me what young fellow it was? was it a very handsome young fellow, ha?
Sir Jol.Handsome? yes, hang him; the fellow's handsome enough: he is not very handsome neither, but he has a devilish leering black eye.
Sir Dav.O Lord!
Sir Jol.His face too is a good riding face; 'tis no soft effeminate complexion indeed, but his countenance is ruddy, sanguine, and cheerful; a devilish fellow in a corner, I'll warrant him.
Sir Dav.Bless us! what will become of me? Why the devil did I marry a young wife? Is he very well shaped too, tall, straight, and proportionable, ha?
Sir Jol.Tall? no, he's not very tall neither, yet he is tall enough too: he's none of your overgrown, lubberly Flanders jades, but more of the true English breed, well-knit, able, and fit for service, old boy; the fellow is well shaped truly, very well proportioned, strong and active. I have seen the rogue leap like a buck.
Sir Dav.Who can this be? Well, and what think you, friend, has he been there? Come, come, I'msensible she's a young woman; and I am an old fellow—troth, a very old fellow, I signify little or nothing now. But do you think he has prevailed? am I cuckold, neighbour?
Sir Jol.Cuckold! what, a cuckold in Covent-garden! no, I'll assure you, I believe her to be the most virtuous woman in the world; but if you had but seen—
Sir Dav.Ay, would I had! what was it?
Sir Jol.How like a rogue she used him: first of all comes me up the spark to her. "Madam," says he—and then he bows down, thus. "How now," says she, "what would the impertinent fellow have?"
Sir Dav.Humph! ha! well, and what then?
Sir Jol."Madam," says he again, bowing as he did before, "my heart is so entirely yours, that except you take pity on my sufferings I must here die at your feet."
Sir Dav.So, and what said she again, neighbour? ha!
Sir Jol."Go, you are a fop."
Sir Dav.Ha, ha, ha! did she indeed? Did she say so indeed? I am glad on't, troth, I am very glad on't. Well, and what next? And how, and well, and what? ha!
Sir Jol."Madam," says he, "this won't do; I am your humble servant for all this; you may pretend to be as ill-natured as you please, but I shall make bold."
Sir Dav.Was there ever such an impudent fellow?
Sir Jol.With that, "Sirrah," says she, "you are a saucy jackanapes, and I'll have you kicked."
Sir Dav.Ha, ha, ha! Well, I would not be unmarried again to be an angel.
Sir Jol.But the best jest of all was, who this should be at last.
Sir Dav.Ay, who indeed! I'll warrant you some silly fellow or other, poor fool!
Sir Jol.E'en a scandalous rakehell, that lingers up and down the town by the name of Captain Beaugard; but he has been a bloody cuckold-making scoundrel in his time.
Sir Dav.Hang him, sot, is it he? I don't value him this, not a wet finger, man. To my knowledge she hates him, she scorns him, neighbour; I know it, I am very well satisfied in the point; besides, I have seen him since that, and out-hectored him: I am to tell her from his own mouth, that he promises never to affront her more.
Sir Jol.Indeed!
Sir Dav.Ay, ay—
EnterLadyDunce,paying herChairman.
Chair.God bless you, madam, thank your honour!Sir Jol.Hush, hush! there's my lady. I'll be gone, I'll not be seen; your humble servant, God b'w'ye.Sir Dav.No faith, Sir Jolly, e'en go into my house now, and stay supper with me, we ha'n't supped together a great while.Sir Jol.Ha! say you so? I don't care if I do, faith, with all my heart; this may give me an opportunity to set all things right again. [Aside.Sir Dav.My dear!L. Dunce.Sir!Sir Dav.You have been abroad, my dear, I see.L. Dunce.Only for a little air; truly I was almost stifled within doors; I hope you will not be angry, Sir Davy, will you?Sir Dav.Angry, child! no, child, not I; what should I be angry for?L. Dunce.I wonder, Sir Davy, you will serve me at this rate. Did you not promise to go in my behalf to Beaugard, and correct him according to my instructions for his insolence?Sir Dav.So I did, child; I have been with him,sweetheart; I have told him all to a tittle; I gave him back again the picture too: but, as the devil would have it, I forgot the ring—faith, I did.L. Dunce.Did you purpose, Sir Sodom, to render me ridiculous to the man I abominate? what scandalous interpretation, think you, must he make of my retaining any trifle of his, sent me on so dishonourable terms!Sir Dav.Really, my lamb, thou art in the right; yet I went back afterwards, dear heart, and did the business to some purpose.L. Dunce.I am glad that you did, with all my heart.Sir Dav.I gave him his lesson, I'll warrant him.L. Dunce.Lesson! what lesson had you to give him?Sir Dav.Why, I told him as he liked that usage he might come again; ha, ha, ha!L. Dunce.Ay, and so let him.Sir Dav.With all my heart, I'll give him free leave, or hang me; though thou wouldst not imagine how the poor devil's altered. La you there now, but as certainly as I stand here, that man is troubled that he swears he shall not rest day nor night till he has satisfied thee; pr'ythee be satisfied with him if 'tis possible, my dear, pr'ythee do. I promised him, before I left him, to tell thee as much: for the poor wretch looks so simply, I could not choose but pity him, I vow and swear, ha, ha, ha!Sir Jol.Now, now, you little witch! now, you chitsface! Odd, I could find in my heart to put my little finger in your bubbies.L. Dunce.Sir Davy, I must tell you, that I cannot but resent your so soon reconcilement with a man that I hate worse than death, and that if you loved me with half that tenderness which you profess, you would not forget an affront so palpably and so basely offered me.Sir Dav.Why, chicken, where's the remedy? What's to be done? How wouldst thou have me deal with him?L. Dunce.Cut his throat.Sir Dav.Bless us for ever! cut his throat! what, do murder?L. Dunce.Murder! yes, anything to such an incorrigible enemy of your honour, one that has resolved to persist in abusing of you. See here this letter, this I received since I last parted with you; just now it was thrown into my chair by an impudent lackey of his, kept o' purpose for such employments.Sir Dav.Let me see: a letter, indeed!—"For the Lady Dunce": damned rogue, treacherous dog, what can he say in the inside now? here's a villain!L. Dunce.Yes, you had best break it open, you had so; 'tis like the rest of your discretion.Sir Dav.Lady, if I have an enemy, it is best for me to know what mischief he intends me; therefore, with your leave, I will break it open.L. Dunce.Do, do, to have him believe that I was pleased enough with it to do it myself: if you have the spirit of a gentleman in you, carry it back, and dash it, as it is, in the face of that audacious fellow.Sir Jol.What can be the meaning of this now?Sir Dav.A gentleman! yes, madam, I am a gentleman, and the world shall find that I am a gentleman.—I have certainly the best woman in the world.[Aside.L. Dunce.What do you think must be the end of all this? I have no refuge in the world but your kindness: had I a jealous husband now, how miserable must my life be!Sir Jol.Ah, rogue's nose! ah, devil! ah, toad! cunning thief, wheedling slut, I'll bite her by and by.Sir Dav.Poor fool! No, dear, I am not jealous, nor never will be jealous of thee; do what thou wilt, thoushalt not make me jealous: I love thee too well to suspect thee.L. Dunce.Ah, but how long will you do so?Sir Dav.How long? as long as I live, I warrant thee, I—don't talk to a body so: I cannot hold if thou dost, my eyes will run over, poor fool! poor birdsnies! poor lambkin!L. Dunce.But will you be so kind to me to answer my desires? will you once more endeavour to make that traitor sensible that I have too just an esteem of you not to value his addresses as they deserve?Sir Dav.Ay, ay, I will.L. Dunce.But don't stay away too long, dear; make what haste you can; I shall be in pain till I see you again.Sir Dav.My dear, my love, my babby, I'll be with thee in a moment. How happy am I above the rest of men! Neighbour, dear neighbour, walk in with my wife, and keep her company till I return again. Child, don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled.—Was there ever such a wife? well, da, da, da: don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, da, da.[ExeuntSirDavyandVermin.L. Dunce.Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly.Sir Jol.Don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, da, da.L. Dunce.But, Sir Jolly, can you guess whereabout my wandering officer may be probably found now?Sir Jol.Found, lady? he is to be found, madam—he is to be at my house presently, lady; he's certainly one of the finest fellows in the world.L. Dunce.You speak like a friend, Sir Jolly.Sir Jol.His friend, lady? no, madam, his foe, his utter enemy; I shall be his ruin, I shall undo him.L. Dunce.You may, if you please, then come bothand play at cards this evening with me for an hour or two; for I have contrived it so, that Sir Davy is to be abroad at supper to-night; he cannot possibly avoid it; I long to win some of the captain's money strangely.Sir Jol.Do you so, my gamester? Well, I'll be sure to bring him, and for what he carries about him, I'll warrant you—odd, he's a pretty fellow, a very pretty fellow, he has only one fault.L. Dunce.And what is that I beseech you, sir?Sir Jol.Only too loving, too good-natured, that's all; 'tis certainly the best-natured fool breathing, that's all his fault.L. Dunce.Hist, hist, I think I see company coming; if you please, Sir Jolly, we'll go in.
Chair.God bless you, madam, thank your honour!
Sir Jol.Hush, hush! there's my lady. I'll be gone, I'll not be seen; your humble servant, God b'w'ye.
Sir Dav.No faith, Sir Jolly, e'en go into my house now, and stay supper with me, we ha'n't supped together a great while.
Sir Jol.Ha! say you so? I don't care if I do, faith, with all my heart; this may give me an opportunity to set all things right again. [Aside.
Sir Dav.My dear!
L. Dunce.Sir!
Sir Dav.You have been abroad, my dear, I see.
L. Dunce.Only for a little air; truly I was almost stifled within doors; I hope you will not be angry, Sir Davy, will you?
Sir Dav.Angry, child! no, child, not I; what should I be angry for?
L. Dunce.I wonder, Sir Davy, you will serve me at this rate. Did you not promise to go in my behalf to Beaugard, and correct him according to my instructions for his insolence?
Sir Dav.So I did, child; I have been with him,sweetheart; I have told him all to a tittle; I gave him back again the picture too: but, as the devil would have it, I forgot the ring—faith, I did.
L. Dunce.Did you purpose, Sir Sodom, to render me ridiculous to the man I abominate? what scandalous interpretation, think you, must he make of my retaining any trifle of his, sent me on so dishonourable terms!
Sir Dav.Really, my lamb, thou art in the right; yet I went back afterwards, dear heart, and did the business to some purpose.
L. Dunce.I am glad that you did, with all my heart.
Sir Dav.I gave him his lesson, I'll warrant him.
L. Dunce.Lesson! what lesson had you to give him?
Sir Dav.Why, I told him as he liked that usage he might come again; ha, ha, ha!
L. Dunce.Ay, and so let him.
Sir Dav.With all my heart, I'll give him free leave, or hang me; though thou wouldst not imagine how the poor devil's altered. La you there now, but as certainly as I stand here, that man is troubled that he swears he shall not rest day nor night till he has satisfied thee; pr'ythee be satisfied with him if 'tis possible, my dear, pr'ythee do. I promised him, before I left him, to tell thee as much: for the poor wretch looks so simply, I could not choose but pity him, I vow and swear, ha, ha, ha!
Sir Jol.Now, now, you little witch! now, you chitsface! Odd, I could find in my heart to put my little finger in your bubbies.
L. Dunce.Sir Davy, I must tell you, that I cannot but resent your so soon reconcilement with a man that I hate worse than death, and that if you loved me with half that tenderness which you profess, you would not forget an affront so palpably and so basely offered me.
Sir Dav.Why, chicken, where's the remedy? What's to be done? How wouldst thou have me deal with him?
L. Dunce.Cut his throat.
Sir Dav.Bless us for ever! cut his throat! what, do murder?
L. Dunce.Murder! yes, anything to such an incorrigible enemy of your honour, one that has resolved to persist in abusing of you. See here this letter, this I received since I last parted with you; just now it was thrown into my chair by an impudent lackey of his, kept o' purpose for such employments.
Sir Dav.Let me see: a letter, indeed!—"For the Lady Dunce": damned rogue, treacherous dog, what can he say in the inside now? here's a villain!
L. Dunce.Yes, you had best break it open, you had so; 'tis like the rest of your discretion.
Sir Dav.Lady, if I have an enemy, it is best for me to know what mischief he intends me; therefore, with your leave, I will break it open.
L. Dunce.Do, do, to have him believe that I was pleased enough with it to do it myself: if you have the spirit of a gentleman in you, carry it back, and dash it, as it is, in the face of that audacious fellow.
Sir Jol.What can be the meaning of this now?
Sir Dav.A gentleman! yes, madam, I am a gentleman, and the world shall find that I am a gentleman.—I have certainly the best woman in the world.[Aside.
L. Dunce.What do you think must be the end of all this? I have no refuge in the world but your kindness: had I a jealous husband now, how miserable must my life be!
Sir Jol.Ah, rogue's nose! ah, devil! ah, toad! cunning thief, wheedling slut, I'll bite her by and by.
Sir Dav.Poor fool! No, dear, I am not jealous, nor never will be jealous of thee; do what thou wilt, thoushalt not make me jealous: I love thee too well to suspect thee.
L. Dunce.Ah, but how long will you do so?
Sir Dav.How long? as long as I live, I warrant thee, I—don't talk to a body so: I cannot hold if thou dost, my eyes will run over, poor fool! poor birdsnies! poor lambkin!
L. Dunce.But will you be so kind to me to answer my desires? will you once more endeavour to make that traitor sensible that I have too just an esteem of you not to value his addresses as they deserve?
Sir Dav.Ay, ay, I will.
L. Dunce.But don't stay away too long, dear; make what haste you can; I shall be in pain till I see you again.
Sir Dav.My dear, my love, my babby, I'll be with thee in a moment. How happy am I above the rest of men! Neighbour, dear neighbour, walk in with my wife, and keep her company till I return again. Child, don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled.—Was there ever such a wife? well, da, da, da: don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, da, da.[ExeuntSirDavyandVermin.
L. Dunce.Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly, Sir Jolly.
Sir Jol.Don't be troubled, pr'ythee don't be troubled, da, da.
L. Dunce.But, Sir Jolly, can you guess whereabout my wandering officer may be probably found now?
Sir Jol.Found, lady? he is to be found, madam—he is to be at my house presently, lady; he's certainly one of the finest fellows in the world.
L. Dunce.You speak like a friend, Sir Jolly.
Sir Jol.His friend, lady? no, madam, his foe, his utter enemy; I shall be his ruin, I shall undo him.
L. Dunce.You may, if you please, then come bothand play at cards this evening with me for an hour or two; for I have contrived it so, that Sir Davy is to be abroad at supper to-night; he cannot possibly avoid it; I long to win some of the captain's money strangely.
Sir Jol.Do you so, my gamester? Well, I'll be sure to bring him, and for what he carries about him, I'll warrant you—odd, he's a pretty fellow, a very pretty fellow, he has only one fault.
L. Dunce.And what is that I beseech you, sir?
Sir Jol.Only too loving, too good-natured, that's all; 'tis certainly the best-natured fool breathing, that's all his fault.
L. Dunce.Hist, hist, I think I see company coming; if you please, Sir Jolly, we'll go in.
EnterBeaugard,followed bySirDavyandVermin.
Sir Jol.Mum, mum, mum, 'tis he himself, the very same; odds so, Sir Davy after him too! Hush, hush, hush, let us be gone, let us retire. Do but look upon him now, mind him a little; there's a shape, there's an air, there's a motion! Ah, rogue, ah, devil, get you in, get you in, I say. There's a shape for you![ExitLadyDunce.Beau.What the devil shall I do to recover this day's loss again? my honourable pimp too, my pander knight has forsaken me; methinks I am quandaried, like one going with a party to discover the enemy's camp, but had lost his guide upon the mountains. Curse on him, old Argus is here again; there can be no good fortune towards me when he's at my heels.Sir Dav.Sir, sir, sir, one word with you, sir! Captain, captain, noble captain, one word, I beseech you.Beau.With me, friend?Sir Dav.Yes, with you, my no-friend.Beau.Sir Davy, my intimate, my bosom-physician!Sir Dav.Ah, rogue! damned rogue!Beau.My confessor, my dearest friend I ever had!Sir Dav.Dainty wheedle, here's a fellow for ye!Beau.One that has taught me to be in love with virtue, and shown me the ugly inside of my follies.Sir Dav.Sir, your humble servant.Beau.Is that all? if you are as cold in your love as you are in your friendship, Sir Davy, your lady has the worst time on't of any one in Christendom.Sir Dav.So she has, sir, when she cannot be free from the impudent solicitations of such fellows as you are, sir.Beau.As me, sir! why, who am I, good Sir Domine Doddlepate?Sir Dav.So, take notice he threatens me; I'll have him bound to the peace instantly. Will you never have remorse of conscience, friend? have you banished all shame from your soul? Do you consider my name is Sir Davy Dunce? that I have the most virtuous wife living? do you consider that? Now how like a rogue he looks again! what a hang-dog leer was that!Beau.Your virtuous wife, sir! you are always harping upon that string, Sir Davy.Sir Dav.No, 'tis you would be harping upon that string, sir: see you this? cast your eyes upon this, this letter, sir. Did you not promise, this very day, to abandon all manner of proceedings of this nature, tending to the dishonour of me and my family?Beau.Letter, sir! What the devil does he mean now? Let me see, "For the Lady Dunce"; this is no scrawl of mine, I'll be sworn; by Jove, her own hand! what a dog was I! forty to one but I had played the fool, and spoiled all again. Was thereever so charming a creature breathing!—Did your lady deliver this to your hands, sir?Sir Dav.Even her own self in person, sir, and bade me tell you, sir, that she has too just an esteem of me, sir, not to value such a fellow as you are as you deserve.Beau.Very good: [Reads] "I doubt not but this letter will surprise you"—in troth, and so it does extremely—"but reflect upon the manner of conveying it to your hand as kindly as you can."Sir Dav.Ay, a damned thief, to have it thrown into the chair by a footman.Beau.[Reads.] "Would Sir Davy were but half so kind to you as I am!"Sir Dav.Say you so, you insinuating knave?Beau.[Reads.] "But he, I am satisfied, is so severely jealous, that except you contrive some way to let me see you this evening, I fear all will be hopeless."Sir Dav.Impudent traitor! I might have been a monster yet, before I had got my supper in my belly.Beau.[Reads.] "In order to which, either appear yourself, or somebody for you, half an hour hence in the Piazza, where more may be considered of. Adieu."Sir Dav.Thanks to you, noble sir, with all my heart; you are come, I see, accordingly; but, as a friend, I am bound in conscience to tell you the business won't do; the trick won't pass, friend; you may put up your pipes, and march off. O Lord! he lie with my wife! pugh—he make Sir Davy Dunce a cuckold! poor wretch, ha, ha, ha!Sir Jol.[ToBeaugard] Hist, hist, hist!
Sir Jol.Mum, mum, mum, 'tis he himself, the very same; odds so, Sir Davy after him too! Hush, hush, hush, let us be gone, let us retire. Do but look upon him now, mind him a little; there's a shape, there's an air, there's a motion! Ah, rogue, ah, devil, get you in, get you in, I say. There's a shape for you![ExitLadyDunce.
Beau.What the devil shall I do to recover this day's loss again? my honourable pimp too, my pander knight has forsaken me; methinks I am quandaried, like one going with a party to discover the enemy's camp, but had lost his guide upon the mountains. Curse on him, old Argus is here again; there can be no good fortune towards me when he's at my heels.
Sir Dav.Sir, sir, sir, one word with you, sir! Captain, captain, noble captain, one word, I beseech you.
Beau.With me, friend?
Sir Dav.Yes, with you, my no-friend.
Beau.Sir Davy, my intimate, my bosom-physician!
Sir Dav.Ah, rogue! damned rogue!
Beau.My confessor, my dearest friend I ever had!
Sir Dav.Dainty wheedle, here's a fellow for ye!
Beau.One that has taught me to be in love with virtue, and shown me the ugly inside of my follies.
Sir Dav.Sir, your humble servant.
Beau.Is that all? if you are as cold in your love as you are in your friendship, Sir Davy, your lady has the worst time on't of any one in Christendom.
Sir Dav.So she has, sir, when she cannot be free from the impudent solicitations of such fellows as you are, sir.
Beau.As me, sir! why, who am I, good Sir Domine Doddlepate?
Sir Dav.So, take notice he threatens me; I'll have him bound to the peace instantly. Will you never have remorse of conscience, friend? have you banished all shame from your soul? Do you consider my name is Sir Davy Dunce? that I have the most virtuous wife living? do you consider that? Now how like a rogue he looks again! what a hang-dog leer was that!
Beau.Your virtuous wife, sir! you are always harping upon that string, Sir Davy.
Sir Dav.No, 'tis you would be harping upon that string, sir: see you this? cast your eyes upon this, this letter, sir. Did you not promise, this very day, to abandon all manner of proceedings of this nature, tending to the dishonour of me and my family?
Beau.Letter, sir! What the devil does he mean now? Let me see, "For the Lady Dunce"; this is no scrawl of mine, I'll be sworn; by Jove, her own hand! what a dog was I! forty to one but I had played the fool, and spoiled all again. Was thereever so charming a creature breathing!—Did your lady deliver this to your hands, sir?
Sir Dav.Even her own self in person, sir, and bade me tell you, sir, that she has too just an esteem of me, sir, not to value such a fellow as you are as you deserve.
Beau.Very good: [Reads] "I doubt not but this letter will surprise you"—in troth, and so it does extremely—"but reflect upon the manner of conveying it to your hand as kindly as you can."
Sir Dav.Ay, a damned thief, to have it thrown into the chair by a footman.
Beau.[Reads.] "Would Sir Davy were but half so kind to you as I am!"
Sir Dav.Say you so, you insinuating knave?
Beau.[Reads.] "But he, I am satisfied, is so severely jealous, that except you contrive some way to let me see you this evening, I fear all will be hopeless."
Sir Dav.Impudent traitor! I might have been a monster yet, before I had got my supper in my belly.
Beau.[Reads.] "In order to which, either appear yourself, or somebody for you, half an hour hence in the Piazza, where more may be considered of. Adieu."
Sir Dav.Thanks to you, noble sir, with all my heart; you are come, I see, accordingly; but, as a friend, I am bound in conscience to tell you the business won't do; the trick won't pass, friend; you may put up your pipes, and march off. O Lord! he lie with my wife! pugh—he make Sir Davy Dunce a cuckold! poor wretch, ha, ha, ha!
Sir Jol.[ToBeaugard] Hist, hist, hist!
Re-enterLadyDunceandFourbindisguised.
L. Dunce.That's he, there he is: succeed, and be rewarded.Four.Other people may think what they please; but, in my own opinion, I am a very pretty fellow now; if my design but succeed upon this old baboon, I'll be canonized. Sir, sir, sir.Sir Dav.Friend, with me? would you speak with me, friend?Four.Sir, my commands were to attend your worship.Sir Jol.Beaugard, Beaugard, hist, hist, here, here, quickly, hist. [ExeuntSirJollyandBeaugard.Sir Dav.Where do you live, sweetheart, and who do you belong to?Four.Sir, I am a small instrument of the city, I serve the lord mayor in his office there.Sir Dav.How, the lord mayor!Four.Yes, sir, who desires you, by all means, to do him the honour of your company at supper this evening.Sir Dav.It will be the greatest honour I ever received in my life. What, my lord mayor invite me to supper? I am his lordship's most humble servant.Four.Yes, sir, if your name be Sir Davy Dunce, as I have the honour to be informed it is: he desires you moreover to make what haste you can, for that he has some matters of importance to communicate to your honour, which may take up some time.L. Dunce.I hope it will succeed.[Aside.Sir Dav.Communicate with me! he does me too noble a favour; I'll fly upon the wings of ambition to lay myself at his footstool. My lord mayor sends himself to invite me to supper; to confer with me too! I shall certainly be a great man.Four.What answer will your worship charge me back withal?Sir Dav.Let his lordship know that I am amazed and confounded at his generosity; and that I am sotransported with the honour he does me, that I will not fail to wait on him in the roasting of an egg.Four.I am your worship's lowly slave.[Exit.Sir Dav.Vermin, go get the coach ready; get me the gold medal too and chain, which I took from the Roman Catholic officer for a popish relic [ExitVermin.] I'll be fine, I'll shine, and drink wine that's divine. My lord mayor invite me to supper!L. Dunce.My dearest, I'm glad to see thee returned in safety, from the bottom of my heart: hast thou seen the traitor?Sir Dav.Seen him! hang him, I have seen him: pox on him, seen him!L. Dunce.Well, and what is become of him? where is he?Sir Dav.Why dost thou ask me where he is? What a pox care I what becomes of him? Pr'ythee don't trouble me with thy impertinence; I am busy.L. Dunce.You are not angry, my dear, are you?Sir Dav.No, but I am pleased, and that's all one; very much pleased, let me tell you but that; I am only to sup with my lord mayor, that's all; nothing else in the world, only the business of the nation calls upon me, that's all; therefore, once more I say, don't be troublesome, but stand off.L. Dunce.You always think my company troublesome; you never stay at home to comfort me; what think you I shall do alone by myself all this evening, moping in my chamber? Pray, my joy, stay with me for once.—I hope he won't take me at my word.[Aside.Sir Dav.I say again and again, tempter, stand off; I will not lose my preferment for my pleasure; honour is towards me, and flesh and blood are my aversion.L. Dunce.But how long will you stay then?Sir Dav.I don't know; may be not an hour, may be all night, as his lordship and I think fit; what's that to anybody?L. Dunce.You are very cruel to me.Sir Dav.I can't help it; go, get you in, and pass away the time with your neighbour; I'll be back again before I die; in the mean time, be humble and conformable, go.
L. Dunce.That's he, there he is: succeed, and be rewarded.
Four.Other people may think what they please; but, in my own opinion, I am a very pretty fellow now; if my design but succeed upon this old baboon, I'll be canonized. Sir, sir, sir.
Sir Dav.Friend, with me? would you speak with me, friend?
Four.Sir, my commands were to attend your worship.
Sir Jol.Beaugard, Beaugard, hist, hist, here, here, quickly, hist. [ExeuntSirJollyandBeaugard.
Sir Dav.Where do you live, sweetheart, and who do you belong to?
Four.Sir, I am a small instrument of the city, I serve the lord mayor in his office there.
Sir Dav.How, the lord mayor!
Four.Yes, sir, who desires you, by all means, to do him the honour of your company at supper this evening.
Sir Dav.It will be the greatest honour I ever received in my life. What, my lord mayor invite me to supper? I am his lordship's most humble servant.
Four.Yes, sir, if your name be Sir Davy Dunce, as I have the honour to be informed it is: he desires you moreover to make what haste you can, for that he has some matters of importance to communicate to your honour, which may take up some time.
L. Dunce.I hope it will succeed.[Aside.
Sir Dav.Communicate with me! he does me too noble a favour; I'll fly upon the wings of ambition to lay myself at his footstool. My lord mayor sends himself to invite me to supper; to confer with me too! I shall certainly be a great man.
Four.What answer will your worship charge me back withal?
Sir Dav.Let his lordship know that I am amazed and confounded at his generosity; and that I am sotransported with the honour he does me, that I will not fail to wait on him in the roasting of an egg.
Four.I am your worship's lowly slave.[Exit.
Sir Dav.Vermin, go get the coach ready; get me the gold medal too and chain, which I took from the Roman Catholic officer for a popish relic [ExitVermin.] I'll be fine, I'll shine, and drink wine that's divine. My lord mayor invite me to supper!
L. Dunce.My dearest, I'm glad to see thee returned in safety, from the bottom of my heart: hast thou seen the traitor?
Sir Dav.Seen him! hang him, I have seen him: pox on him, seen him!
L. Dunce.Well, and what is become of him? where is he?
Sir Dav.Why dost thou ask me where he is? What a pox care I what becomes of him? Pr'ythee don't trouble me with thy impertinence; I am busy.
L. Dunce.You are not angry, my dear, are you?
Sir Dav.No, but I am pleased, and that's all one; very much pleased, let me tell you but that; I am only to sup with my lord mayor, that's all; nothing else in the world, only the business of the nation calls upon me, that's all; therefore, once more I say, don't be troublesome, but stand off.
L. Dunce.You always think my company troublesome; you never stay at home to comfort me; what think you I shall do alone by myself all this evening, moping in my chamber? Pray, my joy, stay with me for once.—I hope he won't take me at my word.[Aside.
Sir Dav.I say again and again, tempter, stand off; I will not lose my preferment for my pleasure; honour is towards me, and flesh and blood are my aversion.
L. Dunce.But how long will you stay then?
Sir Dav.I don't know; may be not an hour, may be all night, as his lordship and I think fit; what's that to anybody?
L. Dunce.You are very cruel to me.
Sir Dav.I can't help it; go, get you in, and pass away the time with your neighbour; I'll be back again before I die; in the mean time, be humble and conformable, go.
Re-enterVermin.
Is the coach ready?Ver.Yes, sir.Sir Dav.Well, your servant. What, nothing to my lady mayoress? You have a great deal of breeding indeed, a great deal! nothing to my lady mayoress?L. Dunce.My service to her, if you please.Sir Dav.Well, da, da—the poor fool cries, o' my conscience! adieu, do you hear, farewell.[Exit.L. Dunce.As well as what I love can make me.
Is the coach ready?
Ver.Yes, sir.
Sir Dav.Well, your servant. What, nothing to my lady mayoress? You have a great deal of breeding indeed, a great deal! nothing to my lady mayoress?
L. Dunce.My service to her, if you please.
Sir Dav.Well, da, da—the poor fool cries, o' my conscience! adieu, do you hear, farewell.[Exit.
L. Dunce.As well as what I love can make me.
Re-enterSirJolly Jumble.
Sir Jol.Madam, is he gone?L. Dunce.In post-haste, I assure you.Sir Jol.In troth, and joy go with him!L. Dunce.Do you then, Sir Jolly, conduct the captain hither, whilst I go and dispose of the family, that we may be private.[Exeunt.
Sir Jol.Madam, is he gone?
L. Dunce.In post-haste, I assure you.
Sir Jol.In troth, and joy go with him!
L. Dunce.Do you then, Sir Jolly, conduct the captain hither, whilst I go and dispose of the family, that we may be private.[Exeunt.
EnterSirDavy Dunce.
Sir Dav.Troth, I had forgot my medal and chain, quite, and clean forgot my relic; I was forced to come up these back stairs, for fear of meeting mywife again; it is the troublesomest loving fool! I must into my closet, and write a short letter too; 'tis post-night, I had forgot that: well, I would not have my wife catch me for a guinea.[Exit.
Sir Dav.Troth, I had forgot my medal and chain, quite, and clean forgot my relic; I was forced to come up these back stairs, for fear of meeting mywife again; it is the troublesomest loving fool! I must into my closet, and write a short letter too; 'tis post-night, I had forgot that: well, I would not have my wife catch me for a guinea.[Exit.
EnterBeaugardandLadyDunce.
Beau.Are you very certain, madam, nobody is this way? I fancy, as we entered, I saw the glimpse of something more than ordinary.L. Dunce.Is it your care of me, or your personal fears, that make you so suspicious? Whereabouts was the apparition?Beau.There, there, just at the very door.L. Dunce.Fie for shame! that's Sir Davy's closet; and he, I am satisfied, is far enough off by this time. I'm sure I heard the coach drive him away. But to convince you, you shall see now: Sir Davy, Sir Davy, Sir Davy. [Knocking at the closet-door.] Look you there, you a captain, and afraid of a shadow! Come, sir, shall we call for the cards?Beau.And what shall we play for, pretty one?L. Dunce.E'en what you think best, sir.Beau.Silver kisses, or golden joys? Come, let us make stakes a little.
Beau.Are you very certain, madam, nobody is this way? I fancy, as we entered, I saw the glimpse of something more than ordinary.
L. Dunce.Is it your care of me, or your personal fears, that make you so suspicious? Whereabouts was the apparition?
Beau.There, there, just at the very door.
L. Dunce.Fie for shame! that's Sir Davy's closet; and he, I am satisfied, is far enough off by this time. I'm sure I heard the coach drive him away. But to convince you, you shall see now: Sir Davy, Sir Davy, Sir Davy. [Knocking at the closet-door.] Look you there, you a captain, and afraid of a shadow! Come, sir, shall we call for the cards?
Beau.And what shall we play for, pretty one?
L. Dunce.E'en what you think best, sir.
Beau.Silver kisses, or golden joys? Come, let us make stakes a little.
EnterSirJolly Jumble,unobserved.
Sir Jol.Ah rogue, ah rogue! are you there? Have I caught you in faith, now, now, now?[Aside.L. Dunce.And who shall keep them?Beau.You, till Sir Davy returns from supper.L. Dunce.That may be long enough; for our engine Fourbin has orders not to give him over suddenly, I assure you.Beau.And is't to yourself, then, I'm obliged for this blest opportunity? Let us improve it to love's best advantage.Sir Jol.Ah—ah![Aside.Beau.Let's vow eternal, and raise our thoughts to expectation of immortal pleasures: in one another's eyes let's read our joys, till we've no longer power o'er our desires, drunk with this dissolving. Oh!
Sir Jol.Ah rogue, ah rogue! are you there? Have I caught you in faith, now, now, now?[Aside.
L. Dunce.And who shall keep them?
Beau.You, till Sir Davy returns from supper.
L. Dunce.That may be long enough; for our engine Fourbin has orders not to give him over suddenly, I assure you.
Beau.And is't to yourself, then, I'm obliged for this blest opportunity? Let us improve it to love's best advantage.
Sir Jol.Ah—ah![Aside.
Beau.Let's vow eternal, and raise our thoughts to expectation of immortal pleasures: in one another's eyes let's read our joys, till we've no longer power o'er our desires, drunk with this dissolving. Oh!
Re-enterSirDavy Duncefrom his closet.
L. Dunce.Ah![Squeaks.Beau.By this light, the cuckold! Presto, nay, then halloo! [Gets up, and runs away.Sir Dav.O Lord, a man—a man in my wife's chamber! Murder! murder! Thieves! thieves! shut up my doors! Madam! madam! madam!Sir Jol.Ay, ay! Thieves! thieves! Murder! murder! Where, neighbour, where, where?L. Dunce.[Catches upBeaugard'ssword, which hehad left behind him in the hurry, and presents it toSirDavy.] Pierce, pierce this wretched heart hard to the hilts; dye this in the deepest crimson of my blood; spare not a miserable woman's life, whom Heaven designed to be the unhappy object of the most horrid usage man e'er acted.Sir Dav.What, in the name of Satan, does she mean now?L. Dunce.Curse on my fatal beauty! blasted ever be these two baneful eyes, that could inspire a barbarous villain to attempt such crimes as all my blood's too little to atone for: nay, you shall hear me—Sir Dav.Hear you, madam! No, I have seen too much, I thank you heartily; hear you, quoth-a!L. Dunce.Yes, and before I die too, I'll be justified.Sir Dav.Justified, O Lord, justified!L. Dunce.Notice being given me of your return, I came with speed to this unhappy place, where I have oft been blest with your embraces, when frombehind the arras out starts Beaugard; how he came there Heaven knows.Sir Dav.I'll have him hanged for burglary; he has broken my house, and broke the peace upon my wife: very good.L. Dunce.Straight in his arms he grasped me fast; with much ado I plunged and got my freedom, ran to your closet-door, knocked and implored your aid, called on your name; but all in vain—Sir Dav.Ha!L. Dunce.Soon again he seized me, stopped my mouth, and, with a conqueror's fury—Sir Dav.O Lord! O Lord! no more, no more, I beseech thee; I shall grow mad, and very mad! I'll plough up rocks and adamantine iron bars; I'll crack the frame of nature, sally out like Tamberlane upon the Trojan horse, and drive the pigmies all like geese before me. O Lord, stop her mouth! Well, and how? and what then? stopped thy mouth! well! ha!L. Dunce.No, though unfortunate, I still am innocent; his cursed purpose could not be accomplished; but who will live so injured? No, I'll die to be revenged on myself: I ne'er can hope that I may see his streaming gore; and thus I let out my own—[Offers to run upon the sword.Sir Dav.Ha, what wouldst thou do, my love? Pr'ythee don't break my heart: if thou wilt kill, kill me; I know thou art innocent, I see thou art; though I had rather be a cuckold a thousand times, than lose thee, poor love, poor dearee, poor baby.Sir Jol.Alack-a-day![Weeps.L. Dunce.Ah me!Sir Dav.Ah, pr'ythee be comforted now, pr'ythee do; why, I'll love thee the better for this, for all this, mun; why shouldst be troubled for another's ill doings? I know it was no fault of thine.Sir Jol.No, no more it was not, I dare swear.[Aside.Sir Dav.See, see, my neighbour weeps too; he's troubled to see thee thus.L. Dunce.Oh, but revenge!Sir Dav.Why, thou shalt have revenge; I'll have him murdered; I'll have his throat cut before to-morrow morning, child: rise now, pr'ythee rise.Sir Jol.Ay, do, madam, and smile upon Sir Davy.L. Dunce.But will you love me then as well as e'er you did?Sir Dav.Ay, and the longest day I live too.L. Dunce.And shall I have justice done me on that prodigious monster?Sir Dav.Why, he shall be crows'-meat by to-morrow night; I tell thee he shall be crows'-meat by midnight, chicken.L. Dunce.Then I will live; since so, 'tis something pleasant:
L. Dunce.Ah![Squeaks.
Beau.By this light, the cuckold! Presto, nay, then halloo! [Gets up, and runs away.
Sir Dav.O Lord, a man—a man in my wife's chamber! Murder! murder! Thieves! thieves! shut up my doors! Madam! madam! madam!
Sir Jol.Ay, ay! Thieves! thieves! Murder! murder! Where, neighbour, where, where?
L. Dunce.[Catches upBeaugard'ssword, which hehad left behind him in the hurry, and presents it toSirDavy.] Pierce, pierce this wretched heart hard to the hilts; dye this in the deepest crimson of my blood; spare not a miserable woman's life, whom Heaven designed to be the unhappy object of the most horrid usage man e'er acted.
Sir Dav.What, in the name of Satan, does she mean now?
L. Dunce.Curse on my fatal beauty! blasted ever be these two baneful eyes, that could inspire a barbarous villain to attempt such crimes as all my blood's too little to atone for: nay, you shall hear me—
Sir Dav.Hear you, madam! No, I have seen too much, I thank you heartily; hear you, quoth-a!
L. Dunce.Yes, and before I die too, I'll be justified.
Sir Dav.Justified, O Lord, justified!
L. Dunce.Notice being given me of your return, I came with speed to this unhappy place, where I have oft been blest with your embraces, when frombehind the arras out starts Beaugard; how he came there Heaven knows.
Sir Dav.I'll have him hanged for burglary; he has broken my house, and broke the peace upon my wife: very good.
L. Dunce.Straight in his arms he grasped me fast; with much ado I plunged and got my freedom, ran to your closet-door, knocked and implored your aid, called on your name; but all in vain—
Sir Dav.Ha!
L. Dunce.Soon again he seized me, stopped my mouth, and, with a conqueror's fury—
Sir Dav.O Lord! O Lord! no more, no more, I beseech thee; I shall grow mad, and very mad! I'll plough up rocks and adamantine iron bars; I'll crack the frame of nature, sally out like Tamberlane upon the Trojan horse, and drive the pigmies all like geese before me. O Lord, stop her mouth! Well, and how? and what then? stopped thy mouth! well! ha!
L. Dunce.No, though unfortunate, I still am innocent; his cursed purpose could not be accomplished; but who will live so injured? No, I'll die to be revenged on myself: I ne'er can hope that I may see his streaming gore; and thus I let out my own—[Offers to run upon the sword.
Sir Dav.Ha, what wouldst thou do, my love? Pr'ythee don't break my heart: if thou wilt kill, kill me; I know thou art innocent, I see thou art; though I had rather be a cuckold a thousand times, than lose thee, poor love, poor dearee, poor baby.
Sir Jol.Alack-a-day![Weeps.
L. Dunce.Ah me!
Sir Dav.Ah, pr'ythee be comforted now, pr'ythee do; why, I'll love thee the better for this, for all this, mun; why shouldst be troubled for another's ill doings? I know it was no fault of thine.
Sir Jol.No, no more it was not, I dare swear.[Aside.
Sir Dav.See, see, my neighbour weeps too; he's troubled to see thee thus.
L. Dunce.Oh, but revenge!
Sir Dav.Why, thou shalt have revenge; I'll have him murdered; I'll have his throat cut before to-morrow morning, child: rise now, pr'ythee rise.
Sir Jol.Ay, do, madam, and smile upon Sir Davy.
L. Dunce.But will you love me then as well as e'er you did?
Sir Dav.Ay, and the longest day I live too.
L. Dunce.And shall I have justice done me on that prodigious monster?
Sir Dav.Why, he shall be crows'-meat by to-morrow night; I tell thee he shall be crows'-meat by midnight, chicken.
L. Dunce.Then I will live; since so, 'tis something pleasant:
When I in peace may lead a happy lifeWith such a husband—Sir Dav.I with such a wife.[Exeunt.
When I in peace may lead a happy lifeWith such a husband—
Sir Dav.I with such a wife.[Exeunt.
FOOTNOTES:[40]Rosamond's Pond (not Ponds) was at the S.W. side of St. James's Park. It was filled up more than a century ago.
[40]Rosamond's Pond (not Ponds) was at the S.W. side of St. James's Park. It was filled up more than a century ago.
[40]Rosamond's Pond (not Ponds) was at the S.W. side of St. James's Park. It was filled up more than a century ago.
EnterBeaugard,Courtine,andDrawer.
Draw.Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome, sir; will you please to walk up one pair of stairs?Beau.Get the great room ready presently; carry up too a good stock of bottles before-hand, with ice to cool our wine, and water to refresh our glasses.Draw.It shall be done, sir.—Coming, coming there, coming: speak up in the Dolphin, somebody.[Exit.
Draw.Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome, sir; will you please to walk up one pair of stairs?
Beau.Get the great room ready presently; carry up too a good stock of bottles before-hand, with ice to cool our wine, and water to refresh our glasses.
Draw.It shall be done, sir.—Coming, coming there, coming: speak up in the Dolphin, somebody.[Exit.
Beau.Ah, Courtine, must we be always idle? must we never see our glorious days again? when shall we be rolling in the lands of milk and honey; encamped in large luxuriant vineyards, where the loaded vines cluster about our tents; drink the rich juice, just pressed from the plump grape; feeding on all the fragrant golden fruit that grow in fertile climes, and ripened by the earliest vigour of the sun?Cour.Ah, Beaugard, those days have been, but now we must resolve to content ourselves at an humble rate. Methinks it is not unpleasant to consider how I have seen thee in a large pavilion, drowning the heat of the day in champagne wines, sparkling sweet as those charming beauties whosedear remembrance every glass recorded, with half a dozen honest fellows more; friends, Beaugard; faithful hearty friends; things as hard to meet with as preferment here; fellows that would speak truth boldly, and were proud on't; that scorned flattery, loved honesty, for 'twas their portion; and never yet learned the trade of ease and lying: but now—Beau.And now we are at home in our natural hives, and sleep like drones; but there's a gentleman on the other side the water,[41]that may make work for us all one day.Cour.But in the meanwhile—Beau.In the meanwhile patience, Courtine; that is the Englishman's virtue. Go to the man that owes you money, and tell him you are necessitated; his answer shall be "A little patience, I beseech you, sir." Ask a cowardly rascal satisfaction for a sordid injury done you; he shall cry, "Alas-a-day, sir, you are the strangest man living, you won't have patience to hear one speak." Complain to a great man that you want preferment, that you have forsaken considerable advantages abroad, in obedience to public edicts; all you shall get of him is this, "You must have patience, sir."Cour.But will patience feed me, or clothe me, or keep me clean?Beau.Pr'ythee no more hints of poverty: 'tis scandalous; 'sdeath, I would as soon choose to hear a soldier brag as complain. Dost thou want any money?Cour.True, indeed, I want no necessaries to keep me alive; but I do not enjoy myself with that freedom I would do; there is no more pleasure in living at stint, than there is in living alone. I would have it in my power, when he needed me, to serve and assist my friend; I would to my ability deal handsomely too by the woman that pleased me.Beau.Oh, fie for shame! you would be a whore-master, friend; go, go, I'll have no more to do with you.Cour.I would not be forced neither at any time to avoid a gentleman that had obliged me, for want of money to pay him a debt contracted in our old acquaintance: it turns my stomach to wheedle with the rogue I scorn, when he uses me scurvily, because he has my name in his shop-book.Beau.As, for example, to endure the familiarities of a rogue that shall cock his greasy hat in my face, when he duns me, and at the same time vail it[42]to an over-grown deputy of the ward, though a frowzy fellmonger.Cour.To be forced to concur with his nonsense too, and laugh at his parish-jests.Beau.To use respects and ceremonies to the milchcow his wife, and praise her pretty children, though they stink of their mother, and are uglier than the issue of a baboon; yet all this must be endured.Cour.Must it, Beaugard?Beau.And, since 'tis so, let's think of a bottle.Cour.With all my heart, for railing and drinking do much better together than by themselves; a private room, a trusty friend or two, good wine and bold truths, are my happiness. But where's our dear friend and intimate, Sir Jolly, this evening?Beau.To deal like a friend, Courtine, I parted with him but just now; he's gone to contrive me a meeting, if possible, this night, with the woman my soul is most fond of. I was this evening just entering upon the palace of all joy, when I met with so damnable a disappointment—in short, that plague to all well-meaning women, the husband, came unseasonably, and forced a poor lover to his heels, that was fairly making his progress another way, Courtine: the story thou shalt hear more at large hereafter.Cour.A plague on him, why didst thou not murder the presumptuous cuckold? saucy intruding clown, to dare to disturb a gentleman's privacies! I would have beaten him into sense of his transgression, enjoyed his wife before his face, and ha' taught the dog his duty.Beau.Look you, Courtine, you think you are dealing with the landlord of your winter-quarters in Alsatia now. Friend, friend, there is a difference between a free-born English cuckold and a sneaking wittol of a conquered province.Cour.Oh, by all means, there ought to be a difference observed between your arbitrary whoring, and your limited fornication.Beau.And but reason: for, though we may make bold with another man's wife in a friendly way, yet nothing upon compulsion, dear heart.Cour.And now Sir Jolly, I hope, is to be the instrument of some immortal plot; some contrivance for the good of thy body, and the old fellow's soul, Beaugard: for all cuckolds go to Heaven, that's most certain.Beau.Sir Jolly! why, on my conscience, he thinks it as much his undoubted right to be pimp-mastergeneral to London and Middlesex, as the estate he possesses is: by my consent his worship should e'en have a patent for it.Cour.He is certainly the fittest for the employment in Christendom; he knows more families by their names and titles than all the bell-men within and without the walls.Beau.Nay, he keeps a catalogue of the choicest beauties about town, illustrated with a particular account of their age, shape, proportion, colour of hair and eyes, degrees of complexion, gunpowder spots and moles.Cour.I wish the old pander were bound to satisfymy experience, what marks of good-nature my Sylvia has about her.
Beau.Ah, Courtine, must we be always idle? must we never see our glorious days again? when shall we be rolling in the lands of milk and honey; encamped in large luxuriant vineyards, where the loaded vines cluster about our tents; drink the rich juice, just pressed from the plump grape; feeding on all the fragrant golden fruit that grow in fertile climes, and ripened by the earliest vigour of the sun?
Cour.Ah, Beaugard, those days have been, but now we must resolve to content ourselves at an humble rate. Methinks it is not unpleasant to consider how I have seen thee in a large pavilion, drowning the heat of the day in champagne wines, sparkling sweet as those charming beauties whosedear remembrance every glass recorded, with half a dozen honest fellows more; friends, Beaugard; faithful hearty friends; things as hard to meet with as preferment here; fellows that would speak truth boldly, and were proud on't; that scorned flattery, loved honesty, for 'twas their portion; and never yet learned the trade of ease and lying: but now—
Beau.And now we are at home in our natural hives, and sleep like drones; but there's a gentleman on the other side the water,[41]that may make work for us all one day.
Cour.But in the meanwhile—
Beau.In the meanwhile patience, Courtine; that is the Englishman's virtue. Go to the man that owes you money, and tell him you are necessitated; his answer shall be "A little patience, I beseech you, sir." Ask a cowardly rascal satisfaction for a sordid injury done you; he shall cry, "Alas-a-day, sir, you are the strangest man living, you won't have patience to hear one speak." Complain to a great man that you want preferment, that you have forsaken considerable advantages abroad, in obedience to public edicts; all you shall get of him is this, "You must have patience, sir."
Cour.But will patience feed me, or clothe me, or keep me clean?
Beau.Pr'ythee no more hints of poverty: 'tis scandalous; 'sdeath, I would as soon choose to hear a soldier brag as complain. Dost thou want any money?
Cour.True, indeed, I want no necessaries to keep me alive; but I do not enjoy myself with that freedom I would do; there is no more pleasure in living at stint, than there is in living alone. I would have it in my power, when he needed me, to serve and assist my friend; I would to my ability deal handsomely too by the woman that pleased me.
Beau.Oh, fie for shame! you would be a whore-master, friend; go, go, I'll have no more to do with you.
Cour.I would not be forced neither at any time to avoid a gentleman that had obliged me, for want of money to pay him a debt contracted in our old acquaintance: it turns my stomach to wheedle with the rogue I scorn, when he uses me scurvily, because he has my name in his shop-book.
Beau.As, for example, to endure the familiarities of a rogue that shall cock his greasy hat in my face, when he duns me, and at the same time vail it[42]to an over-grown deputy of the ward, though a frowzy fellmonger.
Cour.To be forced to concur with his nonsense too, and laugh at his parish-jests.
Beau.To use respects and ceremonies to the milchcow his wife, and praise her pretty children, though they stink of their mother, and are uglier than the issue of a baboon; yet all this must be endured.
Cour.Must it, Beaugard?
Beau.And, since 'tis so, let's think of a bottle.
Cour.With all my heart, for railing and drinking do much better together than by themselves; a private room, a trusty friend or two, good wine and bold truths, are my happiness. But where's our dear friend and intimate, Sir Jolly, this evening?
Beau.To deal like a friend, Courtine, I parted with him but just now; he's gone to contrive me a meeting, if possible, this night, with the woman my soul is most fond of. I was this evening just entering upon the palace of all joy, when I met with so damnable a disappointment—in short, that plague to all well-meaning women, the husband, came unseasonably, and forced a poor lover to his heels, that was fairly making his progress another way, Courtine: the story thou shalt hear more at large hereafter.
Cour.A plague on him, why didst thou not murder the presumptuous cuckold? saucy intruding clown, to dare to disturb a gentleman's privacies! I would have beaten him into sense of his transgression, enjoyed his wife before his face, and ha' taught the dog his duty.
Beau.Look you, Courtine, you think you are dealing with the landlord of your winter-quarters in Alsatia now. Friend, friend, there is a difference between a free-born English cuckold and a sneaking wittol of a conquered province.
Cour.Oh, by all means, there ought to be a difference observed between your arbitrary whoring, and your limited fornication.
Beau.And but reason: for, though we may make bold with another man's wife in a friendly way, yet nothing upon compulsion, dear heart.
Cour.And now Sir Jolly, I hope, is to be the instrument of some immortal plot; some contrivance for the good of thy body, and the old fellow's soul, Beaugard: for all cuckolds go to Heaven, that's most certain.
Beau.Sir Jolly! why, on my conscience, he thinks it as much his undoubted right to be pimp-mastergeneral to London and Middlesex, as the estate he possesses is: by my consent his worship should e'en have a patent for it.
Cour.He is certainly the fittest for the employment in Christendom; he knows more families by their names and titles than all the bell-men within and without the walls.
Beau.Nay, he keeps a catalogue of the choicest beauties about town, illustrated with a particular account of their age, shape, proportion, colour of hair and eyes, degrees of complexion, gunpowder spots and moles.
Cour.I wish the old pander were bound to satisfymy experience, what marks of good-nature my Sylvia has about her.
EnterSirJolly Jumble.
Sir Jol.My captains! my sons of Mars and imps of Venus! well encountered; what, shall we have a sparkling bottle or two, and use Fortune like a jade? Beaugard, you are a rogue, you are a dog, I hate you; get you gone, go.Beau.But, Sir Jolly, what news from paradise Sir Jolly? Is there any hopes I shall come there to-night?Sir Jol.May be there is, may be there is not; I say let us have a bottle, and I will say nothing else without a bottle: after a glass or two my heart may open.Cour.Why, then we will have a bottle, Sir Jolly.Sir Jol.Will? we'll have dozens, and drink till we are wise, and speak well of nobody; till we are lewder than midnight whores, and out-rail disbanded officers.Beau.Only one thing more, my noble knight, and then we are entirely at thy disposal.Sir Jol.Well, and what's that? What's the business?Beau.This friend of mine here stands in need of thy assistance; he's damnably in love, Sir Jolly.Sir Jol.In love! is he so? In love! odds my life! Is she? what's her name? where does she live? I warrant you I know her: she's in my table-book, I'll warrant you: virgin, wife, or widow?[Pulls out a table-book.Cour.In troth, Sir Jolly, that's something of a difficult question; but, as virgins go now, she may pass for one of them.Sir Jol.Virgin, very good: let me see; virgin, virgin, virgin; oh, here are the virgins; truly, I meetwith the fewest of this sort of any. Well, and the first letter of her name now? for a wager I guess her.Cour.Then you must know, Sir Jolly, that I love my love with an S.Sir Jol.S, S, S, oh, here are the Esses; let me consider now—Sappho?Cour.No, sir.Sir Jol.Selinda?Cour.Neither.Sir Jol.Sophronia?Cour.You must guess again, I assure you.Sir Jol.Sylvia?Cour.Ay, ay, Sir Jolly, that's the fatal name; Sylvia the fair, the witty, the ill-natured; do you know her, my friend?Sir Jol.Know her! why, she is my daughter, and I have adopted her these seven years. Sylvia! let me look. [Reads.] "Light brown hair, her face oval, and nose Roman, quick sparkling eyes, plump, pregnant, ruby lips, with a mole on her breast, and the perfect likeness of a heart-cherry on her left knee." Ah, villain! ah, sly-cap! have I caught you? are you there, i'faith? well, and what says she? Is she coming? do her eyes betray her? does her heart beat, and her bubbies rise, when you talk to her, ha?Beau.Look you, Sir Jolly, all things considered, it may make a shift to come to a marriage in time.Sir Jol.I'll have nothing to do in it; I won't be seen in the business of matrimony. Make me a match-maker, a filthy marriage-broker! sir, I scorn it, I know better things. Look you, friend, to carry her a letter from you or so, upon good terms, though it be in a church, I'll deliver it; or when the business is come to an issue, if I may bring you handsomely together, and so forth, I'll serve thee with all my soul, and thank thee into the bargain; thank thee heartily, dear rogue; I will, you little cock-sparrow, faith andtroth, I will: but no matrimony, friend, I'll have nothing to do with matrimony; 'tis a damned invention, worse than a monopoly, and a destroyer of civil correspondence.
Sir Jol.My captains! my sons of Mars and imps of Venus! well encountered; what, shall we have a sparkling bottle or two, and use Fortune like a jade? Beaugard, you are a rogue, you are a dog, I hate you; get you gone, go.
Beau.But, Sir Jolly, what news from paradise Sir Jolly? Is there any hopes I shall come there to-night?
Sir Jol.May be there is, may be there is not; I say let us have a bottle, and I will say nothing else without a bottle: after a glass or two my heart may open.
Cour.Why, then we will have a bottle, Sir Jolly.
Sir Jol.Will? we'll have dozens, and drink till we are wise, and speak well of nobody; till we are lewder than midnight whores, and out-rail disbanded officers.
Beau.Only one thing more, my noble knight, and then we are entirely at thy disposal.
Sir Jol.Well, and what's that? What's the business?
Beau.This friend of mine here stands in need of thy assistance; he's damnably in love, Sir Jolly.
Sir Jol.In love! is he so? In love! odds my life! Is she? what's her name? where does she live? I warrant you I know her: she's in my table-book, I'll warrant you: virgin, wife, or widow?[Pulls out a table-book.
Cour.In troth, Sir Jolly, that's something of a difficult question; but, as virgins go now, she may pass for one of them.
Sir Jol.Virgin, very good: let me see; virgin, virgin, virgin; oh, here are the virgins; truly, I meetwith the fewest of this sort of any. Well, and the first letter of her name now? for a wager I guess her.
Cour.Then you must know, Sir Jolly, that I love my love with an S.
Sir Jol.S, S, S, oh, here are the Esses; let me consider now—Sappho?
Cour.No, sir.
Sir Jol.Selinda?
Cour.Neither.
Sir Jol.Sophronia?
Cour.You must guess again, I assure you.
Sir Jol.Sylvia?
Cour.Ay, ay, Sir Jolly, that's the fatal name; Sylvia the fair, the witty, the ill-natured; do you know her, my friend?
Sir Jol.Know her! why, she is my daughter, and I have adopted her these seven years. Sylvia! let me look. [Reads.] "Light brown hair, her face oval, and nose Roman, quick sparkling eyes, plump, pregnant, ruby lips, with a mole on her breast, and the perfect likeness of a heart-cherry on her left knee." Ah, villain! ah, sly-cap! have I caught you? are you there, i'faith? well, and what says she? Is she coming? do her eyes betray her? does her heart beat, and her bubbies rise, when you talk to her, ha?
Beau.Look you, Sir Jolly, all things considered, it may make a shift to come to a marriage in time.
Sir Jol.I'll have nothing to do in it; I won't be seen in the business of matrimony. Make me a match-maker, a filthy marriage-broker! sir, I scorn it, I know better things. Look you, friend, to carry her a letter from you or so, upon good terms, though it be in a church, I'll deliver it; or when the business is come to an issue, if I may bring you handsomely together, and so forth, I'll serve thee with all my soul, and thank thee into the bargain; thank thee heartily, dear rogue; I will, you little cock-sparrow, faith andtroth, I will: but no matrimony, friend, I'll have nothing to do with matrimony; 'tis a damned invention, worse than a monopoly, and a destroyer of civil correspondence.
Re-enterDrawer.
Draw.Gentlemen, your room is ready, your wine and ice upon the table; will your honours please to walk in?Sir Jol.Ay, wine, wine, give us wine! a pox on matrimony—matrimony, in the devil's name!Cour.But if an honest harlot or two chance to inquire for us, friend—Sir Jol.Right, sirrah, if whores come never so many, give 'em reverence and reception, but nothing else; let nothing but whores and bottles come near us, as you tender your ears.
Draw.Gentlemen, your room is ready, your wine and ice upon the table; will your honours please to walk in?
Sir Jol.Ay, wine, wine, give us wine! a pox on matrimony—matrimony, in the devil's name!
Cour.But if an honest harlot or two chance to inquire for us, friend—
Sir Jol.Right, sirrah, if whores come never so many, give 'em reverence and reception, but nothing else; let nothing but whores and bottles come near us, as you tender your ears.
[A door is opened, discovering a table, with bottles, &c.
Beau.Why, there's, there's the land of Canaan now in little. Hark you, drawer, dog, shut, shut the door, sirrah, do you hear? Shut it so close that neither cares nor necessities may peep in upon us.
Beau.Why, there's, there's the land of Canaan now in little. Hark you, drawer, dog, shut, shut the door, sirrah, do you hear? Shut it so close that neither cares nor necessities may peep in upon us.
[ExeuntBeaugard,Courtine,andSirJolly.
EnterSirDavy Dunce,Fourbin,andBloody-Bones.
Four.Bloody-Bones, be sure to behave yourself handsomely, and like your profession; show yourself a cut-throat of parts, and we'll fleece him.Bloody-B.My lady says, we must be expeditious; Sir Jolly has given notice to the captain by this time, so that nothing is wanting but the management of this over-grown gull to make us hectors at large, and keep the whore Fortune under.Draw.Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome, sir; will't please you to walk into a room? Or shall I wait upon your honour's pleasure here?Sir Dav.Sweetheart, let us be quiet, and bring us wine hither. [ExitDrawer,who returns with wine.] So—[sits down]—from this moment, war, war, and mortal dudgeon against that enemy of my honour, and thief of my good name, called Beaugard. You can cut a throat upon occasion you say, friend?Four.Sir, cutting of throats is my hereditary vocation; my father was hanged for cutting of throats before me, and my mother for cutting of purses.Sir Dav.No more to be said; my courage is mounted like a little Frenchman upon a great horse, and I'll have him murdered.Four.Sir! murdered you say, sir?Sir Dav.Ay, murdered I say, sir; his face flayed off, and nailed to a post in my great hall in the country, amongst all the other trophies of wild beasts slain by our family since the Conquest; there's never a whore-master's head there yet.Four.Sir, for that let me recommend this worthy friend of mine to your service; he's an industrious gentleman, and one that will deserve your favour.Sir Dav.He looks but something ruggedly, though, methinks.Four.But, sir, his parts will atone for his person; forms and fashions are the least of his study: he affects a sort of philosophical negligence indeed; but, sir, make trial of him, and you'll find him a person fit for the work of this world.Sir Dav.What trade are you, friend?Bloody-B.No trade at all, friend; I profess murder; rascally butchers make a trade on't; 'tis a gentleman's divertisement.Sir Dav.Do you profess murder?Bloody-B.Yes, sir, 'tis my livelihood: I keep a wife and six children by it.Sir Dav.Then, sir, here's to you with all my heart.Would I had done with these fellows! [Aside.Four.Well, sir, if you have any service for us, I desire we may receive your gold and your instructions as soon as is possible.Sir Dav.Soft and fair, sweetheart; I love to see a little how I lay out my money. Have you very good trading now-a-days in your way, friend?Bloody-B.In peaceable times a man may eat and drink comfortably upon't: a private murder done handsomely is worth money; but now that the nation's unsettled, there are so many general undertakers, that 'tis grown almost a monopoly; you may have a man murdered almost for little or nothing, and nobody e'er know who did it neither.[43]Sir Dav.Pray what countryman are you? where were you born, most noble sir?Bloody-B.Indeed, my country is foreign. I was born in Argier[44]; my mother was an apostate Greek, my father a renegado Englishman, who by oppressing of Christian slaves grew rich; for which, when he lay sick, I murdered him one day in his bed; made my escape to Malta, where, embracing the faith, I had the honour given me to command a thousand horse aboard the galleys of that state.Sir Dav.O Lord, sir! my humble service to you again.Four.He tells you, sir, but the naked truth.Sir Dav.I doubt it not in the least, most worthy sir.—These are devilish fellows, I'll warrant 'em.
Four.Bloody-Bones, be sure to behave yourself handsomely, and like your profession; show yourself a cut-throat of parts, and we'll fleece him.
Bloody-B.My lady says, we must be expeditious; Sir Jolly has given notice to the captain by this time, so that nothing is wanting but the management of this over-grown gull to make us hectors at large, and keep the whore Fortune under.
Draw.Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome, sir; will't please you to walk into a room? Or shall I wait upon your honour's pleasure here?
Sir Dav.Sweetheart, let us be quiet, and bring us wine hither. [ExitDrawer,who returns with wine.] So—[sits down]—from this moment, war, war, and mortal dudgeon against that enemy of my honour, and thief of my good name, called Beaugard. You can cut a throat upon occasion you say, friend?
Four.Sir, cutting of throats is my hereditary vocation; my father was hanged for cutting of throats before me, and my mother for cutting of purses.
Sir Dav.No more to be said; my courage is mounted like a little Frenchman upon a great horse, and I'll have him murdered.
Four.Sir! murdered you say, sir?
Sir Dav.Ay, murdered I say, sir; his face flayed off, and nailed to a post in my great hall in the country, amongst all the other trophies of wild beasts slain by our family since the Conquest; there's never a whore-master's head there yet.
Four.Sir, for that let me recommend this worthy friend of mine to your service; he's an industrious gentleman, and one that will deserve your favour.
Sir Dav.He looks but something ruggedly, though, methinks.
Four.But, sir, his parts will atone for his person; forms and fashions are the least of his study: he affects a sort of philosophical negligence indeed; but, sir, make trial of him, and you'll find him a person fit for the work of this world.
Sir Dav.What trade are you, friend?
Bloody-B.No trade at all, friend; I profess murder; rascally butchers make a trade on't; 'tis a gentleman's divertisement.
Sir Dav.Do you profess murder?
Bloody-B.Yes, sir, 'tis my livelihood: I keep a wife and six children by it.
Sir Dav.Then, sir, here's to you with all my heart.Would I had done with these fellows! [Aside.
Four.Well, sir, if you have any service for us, I desire we may receive your gold and your instructions as soon as is possible.
Sir Dav.Soft and fair, sweetheart; I love to see a little how I lay out my money. Have you very good trading now-a-days in your way, friend?
Bloody-B.In peaceable times a man may eat and drink comfortably upon't: a private murder done handsomely is worth money; but now that the nation's unsettled, there are so many general undertakers, that 'tis grown almost a monopoly; you may have a man murdered almost for little or nothing, and nobody e'er know who did it neither.[43]
Sir Dav.Pray what countryman are you? where were you born, most noble sir?
Bloody-B.Indeed, my country is foreign. I was born in Argier[44]; my mother was an apostate Greek, my father a renegado Englishman, who by oppressing of Christian slaves grew rich; for which, when he lay sick, I murdered him one day in his bed; made my escape to Malta, where, embracing the faith, I had the honour given me to command a thousand horse aboard the galleys of that state.
Sir Dav.O Lord, sir! my humble service to you again.
Four.He tells you, sir, but the naked truth.
Sir Dav.I doubt it not in the least, most worthy sir.—These are devilish fellows, I'll warrant 'em.
[Aside.