Twi. One more, gentlemen, if you please. Enter HASWell. Twi. I hope you take it as such. I am sure I mean it as such. It kills me to leave you; it breaks my heart; and I once flattered myself such a charitable, good, feeling, humane heart, as you Hasw. Hold! hold! This, Mr. Twineall, is the vice which has driven you to the fatal precipice whereon you stand! and in death will you not relinquish it? Twi. What vice, sir, do you mean? Hasw. Flattery! a vice that renders you not only despicable, but odious. Twi. But how has flattery been the cause? Hasw. Your English friend, before he left the island, told me what information you had asked from him; and that he had given you the direct reverse of every person's character, as a just punishment for your mean premeditation and designs. Twi. I never imagined that amiable friend had sense enough to impose upon anybody! Hasw. And, I presume, he could not suppose that fate would carry resentment to a length like this. Twi. Oh! could fate be arrested in its course! Hasw. You would reform your conduct? Twi. I would. I would never say another civil thing to anybody; never-never again make myself agreeable. as your's! Hasw. Release him; here is the Sultan's signet. Twi. Oh! my dear Mr. Haswell! never was compassion! never benevolence! never such a heart [already. Hasw. Seize him; he has broken his contract Twi. No, sir. No, sir. I protest you are an illnatured, surly, crabbed fellow. I always thought so, upon my word, whatever I may have said. Hasw. And, I'll forgive that language sooner than the other; utter any thing but flattery. Oh! never let the honest, plain, blunt, English name become a proverb for so base a vice. Lady. (Without.) Where is the poor creature? Enter LADY TREMOR. Lady. Oh! if his head be off, pray let me look at it. Twi. No, madam, it is on; and I am very happy to tell you so. Lady. Dear heaven! I expected to have seen it off! but no matter. As it is on, I am come that it may be kept on; and have brought my Lord Flint, and Sir Luke, as witnesses. Enter LORD FLINT, AURELIA, and SIR LUKE. Hasw. And what have they to say? Sir Luke. Who are we to tell our story to? There does not seem to be any one sitting in judgment. Hasw. Tell it to me, sir. I will report it. Sir Luke. Why, then, Mr. Haswell, as ghosts sometimes walk, and as one's conscience is sometimes troublesome, I think Mr. Twineall has done nothing to merit death; and the charge which his lordship sent in against him, we begin to think was too hastily made; but, if there was any false state ment Lord. It was the fault of my not charging my memory. Any error I have been guilty of must be laid to the fault of my total want of memory. Hasw. And what do you hope from this confession? Sir Luke. To have the prisoner's punishment of death remitted for some more favourable sentence. Lord. Yes; for ten or twelve year's imprisonment; or the gallies for fourteen years; or Sir Luke. Ay, ay, something in that mild way. Hasw. For shame, for shame, gentlemen! the extreme rigour you shew in punishing a dissention from your opinion, or a satire upon your folly, proves, to conviction, what reward you had bestowed upon the skilful flatterer. Twi. Gentlemen and ladies, pray, why would you wish me requited with such extreme severity, merely for my humble endeavours to make myself agreeable? Lady Tremor, upon my honour, I was credibly informed your ancestors were kings of Scotland. you heard Sir Luke had distinguished himself at Lady. Impossible! you might as well say that the battle of Twi. And I did hear so. the only one who ran away. Lady. And he did distinguish himself; for he was Twi. Could it happen? Lady. Yes, sir, it did happen. Sir Luke. And go you, Mr. Twineall, into a field of battle, and I think it is very likely to happen again. Lord. If Mr. Has well has obtained your pardon, sir, it is all very well: but let me advise you to conceal your sentiments on politios for the future, as you value your head. Twi. I thank you, sir. I do value it. Hasw. (Going to him.) Aurelia, in this letter to me, has explained your story with so much comWith freedom to passion, that, I must pity it too. your father and yourself, the Sultan restores his forfeited lands; and might I plead, Sir Luke, for your interest with Aurelia's friends, this young man's filial love should be repaid by conjugal affection. Sir Luke. As for that, Mr. Haswell, you have so much interest at court, that your taking the young man under your protection is at once making his fortune; and as Aurelia was sent hither merely to get a husband, I don't see Aure. True, Sir Luke; and I am afraid my father and mother will begin to be uneasy that I have not procured one yet; and I should be very sorry to grieve them. Elvir. No; say rather sorry to make me wretched. (Taking her hand.) Enter ZEDAN. Hasw. My Indian friend, have you received your freedom? Zedan. Yes; and come to bid you farewell; which I would never do, had I not a family in sorrow till my return; for you should be my master, and I would be your slave. Hasw. I thank you; may you meet at home every comfort! Zedan. May you-may you-what shall I say? May you once in your life be a prisoner; then released; to feel such joy as I feel now! Hasw. I thank you for a wish that tells me most emphatically, how much you think I have served you. Twi. And, my dear lord, I sincerely wish you may once in your life have your head chopped off; just to know what I should have felt in that situation. Zedan. (Pointing to Haswell.) Are all his countrymen as good as he? Sir Luke. No-no-no-no; not all; but the worst of them are good enough to admire him. Twi. Pray, Mr. Haswell, will you suffer all these encomiums? Elvir. He must suffer them. There are virtues which praise cannot taint; such are Mr. Haswell's; for they are the offspring of a mind superior even to the love of fame. Neither can be, through malice, suffer by applause; for his character is too sacred to incite envy, and conciliates the respect, the love, and the admiration of all mankind. [Exeunt. OR, THE WIVES METAMORPHOSED. A BALLAD FARCE.-BY C. COFFEY. SCENE I.-Jobson's House. Enter JOBSON and NELL. Nell. Pr'ythee, good Jobson, stay with me tonight, and for once make merry at home. Job. Peace, peace, you jade! and go spin; for, if I lack any thread for my stitching, I will punish you by virtue of my sovereign authority. Nell. Ay, marry, no doubt of that, whilst you take your swing at the alehouse, spend your substance, get as drunk as a beast, and then come home like a sot, and use one like a dog. f Job. Nounz! do you prate? Why, how now, brazen-face! do you speak ill of the government? Don't you know, hussy, that I am king in my own house, and that this is treason against my majesty? Nell. Did ever one hear such stuff? But I pray you now, Jobson, don't go to the alehouse to-night. Job. Well, I'll humour you for once; but don't grow saucy upon't; for I am invited by Sir John Loverule's butler, and am to be princely drunk with punch at the hall-place: we shall have a bowl large enough to swim in. Nell. But they say, husband, the new lady will not suffer a stranger to enter her doors; she grudges even a draught of small beer to her own servants; and several of the tenants have come home with broken heads from her ladyship's own bands, only for smelling strong beer in the house. Job. A plague on her for a fanatical jade! She has almost distracted the good knight. But she's now abroad, feasting with her relations, and will scarce come home to-night; and we are to have much drink, a fiddle, and merry gambols. Nell. O, dear husband, let me go with you; we'll be as merry as the night's long. Job. Why, how now, you bold baggage! would you be carried to a company of smooth-faced, eating, drinking, lazy, serving-men? No, no, you jade, I'll not be a cuckold. Nell. I'm sure they would make me welcome: you promised I should see the house; and the family has not been here before since you married and brought me home. Job. Why, thou most audacious strumpet, darest thou dispute with me, thy lord and master? Get in and spin, or else my strap shall wind about thy ribs most confoundedly. AIR.. He that has the best wife, But for her who will scold and will quarrel, Of her meat and her sport, And ten times a day hoop her barrel, brave boys, And ten times a day hoop her barrel. Nell. Well, we poor women must always be slaves, and never have any joy; but you men run and ramble at your pleasure. Job. Why, you most pestilent baggage, will you be hoop'd? Be gone. Nell. I must obey. (Going.) Job. Stay; now I think on't, here's sixpence for you; get ale and apples, stretch and puff thyself up with lamb's wool, rejoice and revel by thyself, be drunk and wallow in thy own sty, like a grumbling sow as thou art. (Sings.) He that has the best wife, She's the plague of his life, &c. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Sir John Loverule's House. Lady L. O heaven and earth! what's here within my doors? Is hell broke loose? What troop of fiends are here? Sirrah, you impudent rascal, speak! Sir J. For shame, my dear. As this is a time Enter Butler, Cook, Footman, Coachman, LUCY, of mirth and jollity, it has always been the custom LETTICE, &c. Come, jolly Bacchus, god of wine, Thus, mighty Bacchus, shalt thou be of my house to give my servants liberty in this with innocent sports they may divert themselves. season, and to treat my country neighbours, that will govern my own house without your putting in Lady L. I say, meddle with your own affairs; I an oar. Shall I ask you leave to correct my own servants? Sir J. I thought, madam, this had been my house, and these my tenants and servants. Lady L. Did I bring a fortune, to be thus abused and snubbed before people? Do you call my authority in question, ungrateful man? Look to your dogs and horses abroad, but it will be my province to govern here; nor will I be controlled by e'er a hunting, hawking knight in Christendom. AIR.-SIR JOHN LOVERULE. Ye gods, you gave to me a wife, And I was glad to have her; This it is to be married to a continual tempest: strife and noise, canting and hypocrisy, are eternally afloat: 'tis impossible to bear it long. Lady L. Ye filthy scoundrels, and odious jades, I'll teach you to junket it thus, and steal my provisions; I shall be devoured, at this rate. But. I thought, madam, we might be merry once upon a holyday. Lady L. Holyday, you popish cur! Is one day more holy than another? And if it be, you'll be sure to get drunk upon it, you rogue. (Beats him.) You minx, you impudent flirt! are you jigging it after an abominable fiddle? (Lugs Lucy by the ears.) Lucy. O lud! she has pull'd off both my ears. Sir J. Pray, madam, consider your sex and quality: I blush for your behaviour. Lady L. Consider your incapacity; you shall not instruct me. Who are you, thus muffled, you buzzard? (She beats them all; Jobson steals by.) Job. I am an honest, plain, psalm-singing cobbler, But. The king and the royal family, in a brimmer. madam: if your ladyship would but go to church, AIR. Here's a good health to the king, Until the sun rises again, brave boys, you might hear me above all the rest there. Lady L. I'll try thy voice here first, villain. (Strikes him.) Job. Nounz! what a plague, what a devil ails you? Lady L. O profane wretch! wicked varlet! Sir J. For shame! your behaviour is monstrous! Lady L. Was ever poor lady so miserable in a brutish husband as I am? I that am so pious and so religious a woman! your mind. Sir J. Here, poor fellow, take your staff and be gone; there's money to buy you two such: that's your way. [Exit Fiddler. Lady L. Methinks you are very liberal, sir. Must my estate maintain you in your profuseness? Sir J. Go up to your closet, pray, and compose Lady L. O wicked man! to bid me pray. Sir J. A man cannot be completely cursed, I see, without marriage; but since there is such a thing as separate maintenance, she shall to-morrow enjoy the benefit of it. (Knocking at the door.) Here, where are my servants? Must they be frighted from me? Within there-see who knocks. Lady L. Within there. Where are my sluts? Ye drabs, ye queans! Lights there. Re-enter Butler. But. Sir, it is a Doctor that lives ten miles off; he practises physic, and is an astrologer; your worship knows him very well; he is a cunning man, makes almanacs, and can help people to their goods again. Enter Doctor. Doc. Sir, I humbly beg your honour's pardon for this unseasonable intrusion; but I am benighted, and 'tis so dark that I can't possibly find my way home; and knowing your worship's hospitality, desire the favour to be harbour'd under your roof to-night. Lady L. Out of my house, you lewd conjurer, you magician. Doc. Here's a turn! here's a change! Well, if I have any art, ye shall smart for this. (Aside.) Sir J. You see, friend, I am not master of my own house; therefore, to avoid any uneasiness, go down the lane about a quarter of a mile, and you'll see a cobbler's cottage; stay there a little, and I'll send my servant to conduct you to a tenant's house, where you'll be well entertained. Doc. I thank you, sir; I'm your most humble servant; but as for your lady there, she shall, this night, feel my resentment. [Exit. Sir J. Come, madam, you and I must have some conference together. Lady L. Yes; I will have a conference and a reformation, too, in this house, or I'll turn it upside down, I will. [Exeunt. Doc. Come, come, 'tis a good face; be not ashamed of it; you shall shew it in greater places suddenly. Nell. O dear, sir, I shall be mightily ashamed; I want dacity when I come before great folks. Doc. You must be confident, and fear nothing; there is much happiness attends you. Nell. Oh me! this is a rare man; heaven be thanked. (Aside.) Doc. To-morrow, before the sun-rise, you shall be the happiest woman in this country. Nell. How, by to-morrow? Alack-a-day, sir! how can that be? Doc. No more shall you be troubled with a surly husband, that rails at, and straps you. Nell. Lud! how came he to know that? He must be a conjurer! (Aside.) Indeed, my husband is somewhat rugged, and, in his cups, will beat me, but it is not much: he's an honest, pains-taking man, and I let him have his way. Pray, sir, take t'other cup of ale. Doc. I thank you. Believe me, to-morrow you shall be the richest woman in the hundred, and ride in your own coach. Nell. O father! you jeer me. Doc. By my art, I do not. But mark my words, be confident, and bear all out, or worse will follow. Nell. Never fear, sir, I warrant you. O gemini! a coach. Enter JOBSON. Job. Where is this quean? Here, Nell! What a plague, are you drunk with your lamb's wool! Nell. O husband! here's the rarest man-he has told me my fortune. Job. Has he so! and planted my fortune too, a lusty pair of horns upon my head. Eh! Is't not so? Doc. Thy wife is a virtuous woman, and thou'lt be happy Job. Come out, you hang-dog, you juggler, you cheating, bamboozling villain; must I be cuckolded by such rogues as you are, mackmaticians, and almanac makers? Nell. Pr'ythee, peace, husband; we shall be rich, and have a coach of our own. Job. A coach! a cart, a wheelbarrow, you jade. By the mackin, she's drunk, beastly drunk, most confoundedly drunk. Get to bed, you strumpet. (Beats her.) Nell. O mercy on us! is this a taste of my good fortune? Oh, you are the devil of a conjurer, sure enough. [Exit. Doc. You had better not have touch'd her, you surly rogue. Job. Out of my house, you villain. SCENE IV.-An open Country. Enter Doctor. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Jobson's house. AIR. Enter NELL and the Doctor. Nell. Pray, sir, mend your draught, if you please; you are very welcome, sir. Doc. Thank you heartily, good woman; and to requite your civility, I'll tell you your fortune. Nell. O, pray do, sir; I never had my fortune told me in my life. Doc. Let me behold the lines of your face. Nell. I'm afraid, sir, 'tis none of the cleanest; I have been about dirty work all this day. Doc. My little spirits now appear, Spi. (Within.) Say, master, what is to be done? Doc. My strict commands be sure attend, For ere this night shall have an end, That none may know the right from wrong. Spi. All this we will with care perform [Thunder. Exit Doctor. SCENE V.-Jobson's House. The bed in view. JOBSON discovered at work. Job. What devil has been abroad to-night? I never heard such claps of thunder in my life; I thought my little hovel would have flown away; but now all is clear again, and a fine star-light morning it is. I'll settle myself to work. They say, Winter's thunder is summer's wonder. AIR. Of all the trades from east to west, But to his last still labours. Lady L. (In bed.) Heyday! what impudent ballad-singing rogue is that, who dares wake me out of my sleep? I'll have you flayed, you rascal. Job. What a plague, does she talk in her sleep? or is she drunk still? AIR. In Bath a wanton wife did dwell, Lady L. Why, villain, rascal, screech-owl, who makest a worse noise than a dog hung in the pales, or a hog in a high wind. Where are all my servants? Somebody come and hamstring this rogue. (Knocks.) Job. Why, how now, you brazen quean! You must get drunk with the conjurer, must you? I'll give you money another time to spend in lamb's wool, you saucy jade, shall I? Lady L. Monstrous! I can find no bell to ring. Where are my servants? They shall toss him in a blanket. Job. Ay, the jade's asleep still; the conjurer told her she should keep her coach, and she is dreaming of her equipage. (Sings.) AIR. I will come in spite, she said, Of all such churls as thee; Thou art the cause of all our pain, Our grief and misery. Thou first broke the commandment, In honour of thy wife: When Adam heard her say these words, He ran away for life. Lady L. Why, husband! Sir John! will you suffer me to be thus insulted? Job. Husband! Sir John! what a plague has she knighted me? And my name's Zekel, too; a good jest, faith. Lady L. Ha! he's gone, he's not in the bed. Heaven, where am I? Foh! what loathsome smells are here? Canvas sheets, and a filthy ragged curtain; a beastly rug, and a flock bed. Am I awake, or is it all a dream? What rogue is that? Sirrah! where am I? Who brought me hither? What rascal are you? Job. This is amazing; I never heard such words from her before? If I take my strap to you I'll make you know your husband; I'll teach you better manners, you saucy drab. Lady L. Oh, astonishing impudence! You my husband, sirrah? I'll have you hanged, you rogue; I'm a lady. Let me know who has given me a sleeping draught, and conveyed me hither, you dirty varlet? Job. A sleeping draught! yes, you drunken jade, you had a sleeping draught with a plague to ye. What, has not your lamb's-wool done working yet? Lady L. Where am I? Where has my villainous husband put me? Lucy! Lettice! Where are my queans? Job. Ha, ha, ha! What, does she call her maids, too? The conjurer has made her mad as well as drunk. Lady L. He talks of conjurers; sure I am bewitched! Ha! what clothes are here? a linseywoolsey gown, a calico hood, a red bays petticoat; I am removed from my own house by witchcraft. What must I do? What will become of me? (Horns wind without.) Job. Hark! the hunters and the merry horns are abroad. Why, Nell, you lazy jade, 'tis break of day; to work. to work; come, and spin, you drab, or I'll tan your hide for you. What a plague must I be at work two hours before you in the morning? Lady L. Why, sirrah, thou impudent villain! dost thou not know me, you rogue? Job. Know you, yes, I know you well enough; and I'll make you know me before I have done with you. Lady L. I am Sir John Loverule's lady; how came I here? Job. Sir John Loverule's lady! No, Nell, not quite so bad neither; that d-d stingy, fanatic W-- plagues every one that comes near her; the whole country curses her. Lady L. Nay, then I'll hold no longer; you rogue, you insolent villain, I'll teach you better manners. (Flings the bedstaff and other things at him.) Job. This is more than ever I saw by her, I never had an ill word from her before. Come, strap, I'll try your mettle; I'll sober you, I warrant you, quean. (He straps her. She flies at him.) Lady L. I'll pull your throat out; I'll tear out your eyes; I am a lady, sirrah. O murder! murder! Sir John Loverule will hang you for this. Murder! murder ! Job. Come, hussy, leave fooling, and come to your spinning, or else I'll lamb you; you never were so lamb'd since you were an inch long. Take it up, you jade. (She flings it down. He straps her.) Lady L. Hold! hold! I'll do anything. |