The panting breast, white hands, and lily feet! No more shall your pall'd thoughts with pleasure meet: The woman in boy's clothes all boy shall be, Poor souls they think all gospel you relate, To some vile, canting conventicle, changed; Where, for the sparks who once resorted there, With their curl'd wigs that scented all the air," They'll see grave blockheads with short, greasy hair, Green aprons, steeple-hats, and collar-bands, Dull, snivelling rogues, that ring-not clap then hands, Where, for gay punks that drew the shining crowd, And misses, that in vizards laugh'd aloud, Whose zeal too, might persuade, in spite to you, WHEN first the haughty critic's dreadful rage, Next these, a hardy, manly race appear'd, Disdains a false compassion to excite: To catch the foibles that misguide the fair Our author aims; nor this alone, he tries, ACT I. SCENE I-An Apartment in LOVEMORE's House. WILLIAM and SIDEBOARD discovered at a Game of Cards. Will. A plague go with it! I have turned out my game: Is forty-seven good? Side. Equal. Will. Confound the cards! tierce, to a queen? Side. Equal. Will. There again! ruined, stock and block: nothing can save me. I don't believe there is a footman in England plays with worse luck than myself. Four aces are fourteen. Side. That's hard, cruel by Jupiter! Aces against me every time. Will. Four aces are fourteen: fifteen. [Playe Side. There's your equality. Will. Very well: I turned out my point. Sixteen; [Plays.] seventeen. [Plays. Enter MUSLIN. Mus. There's a couple of you, indeed! You are so fond of the vices of your betters, that you are scarce out of your beds, but you must imitate them and their profligate ways. Set you up forsooth! Will. Pr'ythee be quiet, woman, do. Eighteen. [Plays. Mus. Upon my word!—With your usual ease, Mr. Coxcomb. Will. Manners, Mrs. Muslin: you see Mr. Sideboard here: he is just come on a message from Sir Bashful Constant. Have some respect for a stranger. Nineteen, clubs. [Plays. Mus. It would become Mr. Sideboard to go back with his answer, and it would become you to send my lady word Will. Command your tongue, Mrs. Muslin; you'll put me out. What shall I play ?-He will go back with his answer in good time. Let his master wait till it suits our conveniency. Nineteen, clubs; where shall I go now? Mus. Have done with your folly, Mr. Impertinent. My lady desires to know Will. I tell you, woman, my master and I desire to have nothing to do with you and your lady. Twenty, diamonds. [Plays. Mus. But I tell you, Mr. Brazen, that my lady desires to know at what hour your master came hoice last night, and how he does this morning. Will. Ridiculous! Don't disturb us with that nonsense now; you see I am not at leisure. I and my master are resolved to be teased no more by you; and so, Mrs. Go-between, you may return as you come. What the devil shall I play ?-We will have nothing to do with you, I tell you. Mus. You'll have nothing to do with us! But you shall have to do with us, or I'll know the reaon why. [She snatches the cards from him, and throics them about.] Will Death and fury! this meddling woman has destroyed my whole game. A man might as well be married, as be treated in this fashion. Side. I shall score you for this, Mr. William: I was sure of the cards, and that would have made me up. Will. No, you'll score nothing for this. You win too much of me. I am a very pretty annuity to you. Side. Annuity, say you? I lose a fortune to you in the course of the year. How could you, Mrs. Muslin, behave in this sort to persons of our dignity? Mus. Truce with your foolery; and now, Sir, be so obliging as to send my lady an answer to her questions: How and when your rakehelly master came home last night? Will. I'll tell you one thing, Mrs. Muslin; you and my master will be the death of me at last. In the name of charity, what do you both take me for? Whatever appearances may be, I am but of mortal mould; nothing supernatural about me. Mus. Upon my word, Mr. Powder-Puff! Will. I have not, indeed; and flesh and blood, let me tell you, can't hold it always at this rate. can't be for ever a slave to Mr. Lovemore's eternal frolics, and to your second-hand airs. Mus. Sceond-hand airs! Will. Yes, second-hand airs; you take them at your ladies' toilets with their cast gowns, and so you descend to us with them.-And then on the other hand, there's my master. Because he chooses to live upon the principal of his health, and so run out his whole stock as fast as he can, he must have my company with him in his devil's dance to the other world! Never at home till three, four, five, six in the morning. Mus. Ay, a vile ungrateful man : always ranging abroad, and no regard for a wife that dotes upon him. And your love for me is all of a piece. I have no patience with you both; a couple of false, perfidious, abandoned profligates! Will. Hey! where is your tongue running? My master, as the world goes, is a good sort of a civil kind of a husband; and I, Heaven help me! a poor simpleton of a constant, amorous puppy, who bears with all the whims of my little tyrant here. Come and kiss me, you jade, come and kiss me. Mus. Paws off, Cæsar. Don't think to make me your dupe. I know when you go with him to this new lady, this Bath acquaintance; and I know you are as false as my master, and give all my dues to your Mrs. Mignionet there. Will. Hush; not a word of that. I am ruined, pressed, and sent on board a tender directly, if you blab that I trusted you with that secret-But to charge me with falsehood!-injustice and ingratitude!- -My master, to be sure, does drink an agreeable dish of tea with the widow. He has been there every evening this month past. How long things are to be in this train, Heaven only knows, But he does visit there, and I attend him. I ask my master, Sir, says I, what time will you please to want me? He fixes the hour, and I strut by Mrs. Mignionet, without so much as tipping her a single glance. She stands watering at the mouth, and a pretty fellow that,' says she: Ay, gaze on, says I, gaze on: I know what you would be at; you would be glad to have me: but sour grapes, my dear; and so home I come to cherish my own lovely little wanton: you know I do: and after toying with thee, I fly back to my masSide, sha'n't dispute with you. I hate wrang-ter, later indeed than he appoints, but always too fing: I leave that to lawyers and married people; they have nothing else to do. Mr. William, I shall let Sir Bashful know that Mr. Lovemore will be at home for him. When you come to our house, I'll give you your revenge. We can have a snug, party there, and I promise you a glass of choice champaign: it happens to be a good batch; Sir Bashful gets none of it; I keep it for my own friends. Au revoir. [Erit. Will. [To MUSLIN.] You see what mischief you have made. Mus. Decamp with your dignity; take your answer to your master: turn upon your rogue's heel and rid the house. soon for him. He is loath to part; he lingers and dangles, and I stand cooling my heel. Oh! to the devil I pitch such a life. Mus. Why don't you strive to reclaim the vile man? Will. Softly; not so fast. I have my talent, to be sure; yes, I must acknowledge some talent. But can you suppose that I have power to turn the drift of his inclinations? Can I give him a new taste, and lead him as I please? And to whom? To his wife? Ridiculous! A wife has no attraction now; the spring of the passions flies back; it wont do. Mus. Fine talking! and you admire yourself for it, don't you? Can you proceed, Sir? Will. I tell you a wife is out of date: the time was, but that's all over; a wife is a drug now; mere tar-water, with every virtue under heaven, but nobody takes it. Mus. Have done, or I'll print these ten nails upon your rogue's face. Will. Come and kiss me, I say. Mus. A fiddlestick for your kisses, while you encourage your master to open rebellion against the best of wives. Will. I tell you 'tis all her own fault. Why does she not study to please him as you do me. Come and throw your arms about my neck. Mus. As I used to do, Mr. Impudence? Will. Then I must force you to your own good. [Kisses her.] Pregnant with delight! egad, if my master was not in the next room [Bell rings. Mus. Hush! my lady's bell: how long has he been up? Will. He has been up-[Kisses her.] 'Sdeath! you have set me all on fire. [Kisses her. now? the bell When did he Mus. There, there; have done rings again. What must I say? come home? Will. He came home-[Kisses her he came home at five this morning; damned himself for a blockhead; [Kisses.] went to bed in a surly humour; was tired of himself and every body else. [Bell rings, he kisses her.] And he is now in tiptoe spirits with Sir Brilliant Fashion in that room yonder. Mus. Sir Brilliant Fashion? I wish my lady would mind what he says to her-You great bear! you have given me such a flush in my face! Takes a pocket looking-glass.] I look pretty well, think. There, [Kisses him.] have done, and let me be gone. [Exit. Will. There goes high and low life contrasted in one person. She has not dived at the bottom of my master's secrets; that's one good thing. What she knows, she'll blab. We shall hear of this widow from Bath: but the plot lies deeper than they are aware of. Inquire they will; and let 'em, say I; their answer will do 'em no good. 'Mr. Lovemore visit the widow Bellmour? We know 'no such person.' That's what they'll get for their pains. Their puzzle will be greater than ever; and they may sit down to chew the cud of disappointed malice-Hush! my master and Sir Brilliant: I'll take care of a single rogue, and get me out of their way. [Exit. Enter LOVEMORE and SIR BRILLIANT. Love. My dear Sir Brilliant, I must both pity and laugh at you. Thou art metamorphosed into the most whimsical being! Sir Bril. If your raillery diverts you, go on with it. This is always the case: apply for sober advice, and your friend plays you off with a joke. Love. Sober advice! very far gone indeed. There is no such thing as talking soberly to the tribe of lovers. That eternal absence of mind that possesses you all! There is no society with you. I was damnable company myself, when I was one of the pining herd: but a dose of matrimony has oooled me pretty handsomely; and here comes repetatur haustus. morning. Love. Ay, your lady--give her my compl well, andments, and tell her-and tell her I hope she is [Yarns Mus. She begs you wont think of going out without seeing her. Love. To be sure, she has such variety every time one sees her-my head aches wofully-tell your lady-I shall be glad to see her: I'll wait on her-[Yawns.] tell her what you will. Mus. A brute-I shall let my lady know, Sir. [Erit. Love. My dear Sir Brilliant, you see me an example before your eyes. Put the widow Bellmour out of your head, and let my lord Etheridge be the victim for you. Sir Bril. Positively no; my pride is piqued. My lord Etheridge shall find me a more formidable rival than he imagines. By the way, how long has the noble peer been in England?" Love. His motions are unknown to me.[Aside.] I don't like that question.-His lordship is in France, is not he? Sir. Bril. No; he is certainly returned. The match is to be concluded privately.—He visits her incog. Love. [Forcing a laugh.] Oh! no; that can't help laughing. The jealousy of you lovers is for be; my lord Etheridge loves parade. I cannot ever conjuring up phantoms to torment yourselves. My dear Sir Brilliant, wait for realities; there are enough in life, and you may teach your fancy to be at rest, and give you no farther trouble. with you. What I tell you, is the real truth. Sir Bril. Nay, don't let your fancy run away Love. Well, if it be true, and if lord Etheridg is come to England to marry, do you go to France not to marry, and you will have the best of the bargain. Enter WILLIAM. Will. Sir Bashful Constant is in his chariot at the upper end of the street, and if your honour is at leisure he will wait upon you. Love. Have not I sent him word I should be at home? Let him come as soon as he will.-[ Erit WILLIAM.] Another instance, Sir Brilliant, to deter you from all thoughts of matrimony. Sir Bril. Po! hang him! he is no precedent for me. A younger brother, who lived in middling life, comes to a title and an estate on the death of a consumptive baronet; marries a woman of qua lity, and now carries the primitive ideas of his narrow education into high life. Don't you remem ber when he had chambers in Fig-tree court, and used to saunter and lounge away his time in Temple coffee-houses? The fellow is as dull as a bill in Chancery. Love. But he is improved since that time. Sir. Bril. Impossible; don't you see how he goes on? He knows nothing of the world; if his eyes meet yours, he blushes up to his ears, and books suspicious, as if he imagined you have a design upon him. Love. I can explain that part of his character. He has a mortal aversion to wit and raillery, and dreads nothing so much as being laughed at for being particular. Sir Bril. And so, fearing to be ridiculous, he becomes substantially so every moment. Love. Even so; and if you look at him, he shrinks back from your observation, casting a sly, slow, jealous eye, all round him, like Miss Bumpkin in a country village, awkwardly endeavouring to conceal what the increase of her shape discovers to the whole parish, Sir Bash. Yes, yes; your tip-top, none else. Love. The world will talk, Sir Bashful. Sir Bril. And then his behaviour to his lady. Love. Why, as to that point, I don't think he hates her. His fear of ridicule may be at the bot-tongues will run on, and one does not like to give tom. He has strange notions about the dignity of a husband. There is a secret, which he would fain tell me, and yet he is shy, and he hints, and he hesitates, and then he retreats back into himself, and ends just where he began. But with all his faults, he has fits of good nature.-There;his chariot's at the door. Sir Bril. Lady Constant, you mean, has fits of good nature. Have you made any progress there? Love. That's well from you, who are the formidable man in that quarter. Sir Bril. Oh! no; positively, no pretence, no colour for it. Love. Don't I know that you have made advances? Sir Bril. Advances! I pity my Lady Constant, andLove. Well, that's generous-hush! I hear him coming. Sir Brilliant, I admire your amorous charity of all things! Enter SIR BASHFUL CONSTANT. Sir Bash. Mr. Lovemore, I have taken the liberty-but you seem to be busy, and I intrude perhaps. Love. Oh, by no means: walk in, Sir Bashful. Sir Bash. Sir Brilliant, I am glad to see you. [Bows awkwardly. Sir Bril. You do me honour, Sir. I hope you left my lady well. [Aside.] An absurd brute! Lovemore, I'll just step and pay a short visit to our friend over the way. Love. Why in such a hurry? them a subject. I answered her stoutly: Madam, says I, a fig for your quality: I am master in my own house, and who do you think-[Winks at LOVEMORE.] putting myself in a passion, you know-Who do you think is to pay for your cats, and your dogs, and your monkeys, and your squirrels, and your gaming debts? Love. How could you? That was sharply said. Sir Bash. Yes; I gave it her. But for all that, I am main good-natured at the bottom. Love. You was not in earnest then? Sir Bash. No, no; that's the point: a man must keep up his own dignity. I'll tell you what I did. Sir Bril. I shall return immediately. I'll be with you before you are dressed. Sir Bashful, I kiss your hand. [Exit. Sir Bash. I am glad he is gone. I have some-paid it slily. thing, Mr. Lovemore, that I want to advise with you about. Lore. Have you? Si Bash. I have had another brush with my wife. Love. I am sorry for it, Sir Bashful-[Aside.] I am perfectly glad of it. Sir Bash, Pretty warm the quarrel was. She wook it in a high tone. Sir Bashful, says she, I wonder you will disgrace yourself at this rate. You know my pin-money is not sufficient. The mercer and every body dunning me! I can't go on after this fashion, says she, and then something about her quality.You know, Mr. Lovemore, [Smiling.] she is a woman of high quality. Love. Yes, and a very fine woman. VOL. IL...2 L 23 Love. Why, that's doing a genteel thing by stratagem-Admirably contrived! Sir Bash. I think it was. But I have a deeper secret for you. Love. Have you? Sir Bash. I have.-May I trust you? Sir Bash. I beg your pardon. I know you are my friend. I have a great confidence in you. You must know-look ye, Mr. Lovemore—you must know Enter MUSLIN. Mus. My lady desires to know if you choo a dish of tea this morning. |