Enter PETIT. Pet. O sir, more discoveries; are all friends about us? Dug. Ay, ay, speak freely. Pet. You must know, sir-odd's my life, I'm out of breath; you must know, sir-you must know Old Mir. What the devil must we know, sir? Pet. That I have [Pants and blows.] bribed, sir, bribed-your son's secretary of state. Old Mir. Secretary of state !—who's that, for Heaven's sake? Bis. Come, sir, to let you see what little foundation you have for your dear sufficiency, I'll take you to pieces. Mir. And what piece will you chuse ? Bis. Your heart, to be sure; because I should get presently rid on't; your courage I would give to a hector, your wit to a lewd play-maker, your honour to an attorney, your body to the physicians, and your soul to its master. Mir. I had the oddest dream last night of the dutchess of Burgundy; methought the furbelows of her gown were pinned up so high behind, that I could not see her head for her tail. Bis. The creature don't mind me! do you think, sir, that your humorous impertinence can divert me? No, sir, I'm above any pleasure that you can give, but that of seeing you miserable. And mark me, sir, my friend, my injured friend, shall yet be doubly happy, and you shall be a husbreach of them, can make you. Pet. His valet-de-chambre, sir. You must know, sir, that the intrigue lay folded up with his master's clothes, and when he went to dust the embroidered suit, the secret flew out of the right pocket of his coat, in a whole swarm of your crambo songs, short-footed odes, and long-band as much as the rites of marriage, and the legged pindarics. Old Mir. Impossible! Pet. Ah, sir, he has loved her all along; there was Oriana in every line-bat he hates marriage: Now, sir, this plot will stir up his jealousy, and we shall know, by the strength of that, how to pro ceed farther. Enter MIRABELL and BISARRE, passing carelessly by one another. Bis. [Aside.] I wonder what she can see in this fellow to like him? Mir. [Aside.] I wonder what my friend can see in this girl to admire her? Bis. [Aside.] A wild, foppish, extravagant rake-hell. Mir. [Aside.] A light, whimsical, impertinent mad-cap. Bis. Whom do you mean, sir? Mir. Whom do you mean, madam? Bis. A fellow, that has nothing left to re-establish him for a human creature, but a prudent resolution to hang himself. Mir. There is a way, madam, to force me to that resolution. Bis. I'll do it with all my heart. Mir. Then, you must marry me. Bis. Look'e, sir; don't think your ill manners to me shall excuse your ill usage of my friend; nor, by fixing a quarrel here, to divert my zeal for the absent; for, I'm resolved, nay, I come prepared, to make you a panegyric, that shall mortify your pride like any modern dedication. Mir. And I, madam, like a true modern patron, shall hardly give you thanks for your trouble. [Here MIRABELL pulls out a Virgil, and reads to himself while she speaks.] Mir. [Reading.] At regina dolos, (quis fallere possit amantem?) Dissimulare etiam sperásti, perfide tantum [Very true.] Posse nefas. By your favour, friend Virgil, 'twas but a rascally trick of your hero to forsake poor pug so inhumanly. Bis. I don't know what to say to him. The devil—what's Virgil to us, sir? Mir. Very much, madam, the most apropos in the world-for, what should I chop upon, but the very place, where the perjured rogue of a lover and the forsaken lady are battling it tooth and nail? Come, madam, spend your spirits no longer; we'll take an easier method: I'll be Æneas now, and you shall be Dido, and we'll rail by book. Now for you, madam Dido. Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam, Nec moritura tenet crudeli funere Dido Ah, poor Dido! [Looking at her. Bis. Rudeness, affronts, impatience! I could almost start out even to manhood, and want but a weapon as long as his to fight him upon the spot. What shall I say? Mir. Now she rants. Quæ quibus anteferam? jam jam nec maxima Juno. Bis. A man! No, the woman's birth was spirited away. Mir. Right, right, madam; the very words. Bis. And some pernicious elf left in the cradle with human shape, to palliate growing mischief. [Both speak together, and raise their voices by degrees.] Mir. Perfide, sed duris genuit te cautibus hor rens Caucasus, Hyrcanaque admorunt ubera tigres. Bis. Go, sir; fly to your midnight revels! Mir. [Excellent.] I sequere Italiam ventis, pe- | te regna per undas. sunt. Spero equidem mediis, si quid pia numina pos[Together again. Bis. Converse with imps of darkness of your make! your nature starts at justice, and shivers at the touch of virtue. Now, the devil take his impudence! he vexes me so, I don't know whether to cry or laugh at him. Mir. Bravely performed, my dear Libyan! I'll write the tragedy of Dido, and you shall act the part: But you do nothing at all, unless you fret yourself into a fit; for here the poor lady is stifled with vapours, drops into the arms of her maids; and the cruel, barbarous, deceitful wanderer, is, in the very next line, called pious Eneas. There's authority for ye. Sorry, indeed, Æneas stood But Jove himself, who ne'er thought good [Runs off Bis. Go thy ways, for a dear, mad, deceitful, agreeable fellow. O' my conscience, I must excuse Oriana. That lover soon his angry fair disarms, Whose slighting pleases, and whose faults are [Exit Bis. charms. SCENE II. Enter PETIT, runs about to every door, and knocks. she will make him a cuckold. 'Tis ordinary with women, to marry one person for the sake of another, and to throw themselves into the arms of one they hate, to secure their pleasure with the man they love. But who is the happy man? Pet. A lord, sir. Mir. I'm her ladyship's most humble servant; a train and a title, hey! Room for my lady's coach; a front-row in the box for her ladyship; lights, lights for her honour! Now must I be a constant attender at my lord's levee, to work my way to my lady's couchee—a countess, I presume, sir? Pet. A Spanish count, sir, that Mr Dugard knew abroad, is come to Paris, saw your mistress, yesterday, marries her to-day, and whips her into Spain to-morrow. Mir. Ay, is it so? and must I follow my cuckold over the Pyrenees? Had she married within the precincts of a billet-doux, I would be the man to lead her to church; but, as it happens, I'll forbid the banns. Where is this mighty don? Pet. Have a care, sir! he's a rough crossgrained piece, and there's no tampering with him; would you apply to Mr Dugard, or the lady herself, something might be done, for it is in despight to you, that the business is carried so hastily. Odso, sir, here he comes! I must be gone. [Exit PET. Enter OLD MIRABELL, dressed in a Spanish habit, leading ORIANA. Ori. Good, my lord, a nobler choice had better suited your lordship's merit. My person, Pet. Mr Mirabell! Sir, where are you? no rank, and circumstance, expose me as the pubwhere to be found? Enter MIRABELL. Mir. What's the matter, Petit? lic theme of raillery, and subject me so to injurious usage, my lord, that I can lay no claim to any part of your regard, except your pity. Old Mir. Breathes he vital air, that dares pre sume, With rude behaviour, to profane such excellence? Shew me the man Pet. Most critically met-Ah, sir, that one, who has followed the game so long, and brought the poor hare just under his paws, should let a mongrel cur chop in, and run away with the puss! And you shall see how my sudden revenge Mir. If your worship can get out of your al-Shall fall upon the head of such presumption. legories, be pleased to tell me, in three words, Is this thing one? [Strutting up to MIRABELL. what you mean. Mir. Sir! Pet. Plain, plain, sir. Your mistress and mine is going to be married. [Going. Mir. I believe you lie, sir. Pet. Your humble servant, sir. Mir. Come hither, Petit. Married, say you? Pet. No, sir, 'tis no matter; I only thought to do you a service, but I shall take care how I conmy favours for the future. fer Mir. Sir, I beg ten thousand pardons. [Bowing low. Pet. 'Tis enough, sir-I come to tell you, sir, that Oriana is this moment to be sacrificed; married past redemption. Mir. I understand her-she'll take a husband out of spite to me; and then, out of love to me, Ori. Good my lord. Old Mir. If he, or any he! Ori. Pray, my lord! the gentleman's a stran ger. Old Mir. O, your pardon, sir-but if you had remember, sir-the lady now is mine, her injuries are mine; therefore, sir, you understand' -Come, madam. me [Leads ORIANA to the door, she goes off; Mir. Ecoutez, Monsieur le compte. Mir, Boh! Old Mir. Boh? What language is that, sir? Mir. Spanish, my lord. [Trips up his heels. · Old Mir. A very concise quarrel, truly!-I'll bully him. Trinidade seigneur, give me fair play. [Offering to rise. Mir. By all means, sir. [Takes away his sword.] Now, seigneur, where's that bombast look, and fustian face, your countship wore just now? [Strikes him. Old Mir. The rogue quarrels well, very well: my own son right! But hold, sirrah, no more jesting; I'm your father, sir, your father! Mir. My father! Then, by this light, I could find in my heart to pay thee. [Aside.] Is the fellow mad? Why, sure, sir, I han't frighted you out of your senses? Old Mir. But you have, sir. Mir. Then I'll beat them into you again. [Offers to strike him. Old Mir. Why, rogue-Bob, dear Bob, don't you know me, child? ORIANA.I wish your ladyship joy of your new Mir. Well, my dear dulcinea, did your don Quixotte battle for you bravely? My father will answer for the force of my love. Ori. Pray, sir, don't insult the misfortunes of your own creating. Dug. My prudence will be counted cowardice, if I stand tamely now.-[Comes up between MIRABELL and his sister.]-Well, sir! Mir. Well, sir! Do you take me for one of your tenants, sir, that you put on your landlord face at me? Dug. On what presumption, sir, dare you as sume thus? [Draws. Pet. Help! help! the lady faints. [ORIANA falls into her maid's arms. Mir. Ha, ha, ha! the fellow's downright dis- Mir. Vapours! vapours! she'll come to hertracted: Thou miracle of impudence! would'st self: if it be an angry fit, a dram of assafoetida thou make me believe, that such a grave gentle--if jealousy, hartshorn in water-if the moman as my father would go a masquerading thus?ther, burnt feathers-if grief, ratifia-if it be That a person of threescore and three would run strait stays, or corns, there's nothing like a dram about in a fool's coat, to disgrace himself and fa- of plain brandy. mily? Why, you impudent villain, do you think I will suffer such an affront to pass upon my honoured father, my worthy father, my dear father? 'Sdeath, sir, mention my father but once again, and I'll send your soul to thy grandfather this minute! [Offering to stab him. Old Mir. Well, well, I am not your father. Mir. Why, then, sir, you are the saucy, hectoring Spaniard, and I'll use you accordingly. Old Mir. The devil take the Spaniards, sir! we have all got nothing but blows, since we began to take their part. Enter DUGARD, ORIANA, MAID, and PETIT. DUGARD runs to MIRABELL, the rest to the old gentleman. Dug. Fy, fy, Mirabell, murder your father! Mir. My father? what, is the whole family mad? Give me way, sir, I won't be held. Old Mir. No? nor I neither; let me be gone, pray. [Offering to go. Mir. My father! Old Mir. Aye, you dog's face! I am your father, for I have bore as much for thec, as your mother ever did. Mir. O ho! then this was a trick, it seems; a design, a contrivance, a stratagem-Oh! how my bones ache! Old Mir. Your bones, sirrah, why yours? Mir. Why, sir, han't I been beating my own flesh and blood all this while? Oh, madam-[To Ori. Hold off! give me air-O my brother! would you preserve my life, endanger not your own; would you defend my reputation, leave it to itself; 'tis a dear vindication, that's purchased by the sword; for, though our champion proves victorious, yet our honour is wounded. Old Mir. Aye, and your lover may be wounded, that's another thing. But I think you are pretty brisk again, my child. Ori. Aye, sir, my indisposition was only a pretence to divert the quarrel; the capricious taste of your sex excuses this artifice in ours. For often, when our chief perfections fail, Our chief defects with foolish men prevail. [Exit ORIANA, Pet. Come, Mr Dugard, take courage, there is a way still left to fetch him again. Old Mir. Sir, I'll have no plot, that has any relation to Spain. Dug. I scorn all artifice whatsoever; my sword shall do her justice. Pet. Pretty justice, truly! Suppose you run him through the body, you run her through the heart at the same time. Old Mir. And me through the head- -rot your sword, sir, we'll have plots; come, Petit, let's hear. Pet. What if she pretended to go into a nunnery, and so bring him about to declare himself? Dug. That, I must confess, has a face. Old Mir. A face! a face like an angel, sir.Ad's my life, sir, 'tis the most beautiful plot in Christendom. We'll about it immediately. [Exeunt. SCENE II The Street. Enter DURETETE and MIRABELL. Dur. [In a passion.]-And though I can't dance, nor sing, nor talk like you, yet I can fight; you know I can, sir. Mir. I know thou canst, man. Dur. 'Sdeath, sir, and I will: let me see the proudest man alive make a jest of me! Mir. But I'll engage to make you amends. Dur. Danced to death! baited like a bear! ridiculed! threatened to be kicked! confusion! sir, you set me on, and I will have satisfaction; all mankind will point at me. Mir. [Aside.I must give this thunderbolt some passage, or 'twill break upon my own head -look'e, Duretete, what do these gentlemen Jaugh at? Mir. Ha, ha, ha! bravely done, Duretete! there you had him, noble captain; hey, they run, they run, Victoria, Victoria-Ha, ha, ha !-how happy am I in an excellent friend! tell me of your virtuosos, and men of sense! a parcel of sour-faced, splenetic rogues-a man of my thin constitution should never want a fool in his company: I don't affect your fine things that improve the understanding, but hearty laughing to fatten my carcase: and, in my conscience, a man of sense is as melancholy without a coxcomb, as a lion without a jackall; he hunts for our diversion, starts game for our spleen, and perfectly feeds us with pleasure. I hate the man who makes acquaintance nice, [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.-OLD MIRABELL's house. Enter OLD MIRABELL and DUGARD. Dug. THE lady abbess is my relation, and privy to the plot: your son has been there, but had no admittance beyond the privilege of the grate, and there my sister refused to see him. He went off more nettled at his repulse, than I thought his gaiety could admit. Old Mir. Aye, aye, this nunnery will bring him about, I warrant ye. Enter DURETETE. Dur. Here, where are ye all? O! Mr Mirabell, you have done fine things for your posterity-and you, Mr Dugard, may come to answer this I come to demand my friend at your hands; restore him, sir, or [TO OLD MIRABELL. Old Mir. Restore him! what, d'ye think I have got him in my trunk, or my pocket! Dur, Sir, he's mad, and you're the cause on't. Old Mir. That may be; for I was as mad as he, when I begot him. Dug. Mad, sir! what d'ye mean? Dur. What do you mean, sir, by shutting up your sister yonder to talk like a parrot through a cage? Or a decoy-duck, to draw others into the snare? Your son, sir, because she has deserted him, he has forsaken the world; and, in three words, has Old Mir. Hanged himself! Dur. The very same-turned friar. Old Mir. You lie, sir, 'tis ten times worse.— Bob turned friar! Why should the fellow shave his foolish crown when the same razor may cut his throat? Dur. If you have any command, or you any interest over him, lose not a minute: He has thrown himself into the next monastery, and has ordered me to pay off his servants, and discharge his equipage. Old Mir. Let me alone to ferret him out; I'll sacrifice the abbot, if he receives him; I'll try whether the spiritual or the natural father has .the most right to the child. But, dear captain, what has he done with his estate? Bis. Ha, ha, ha! and do you think there is any devotion in a fellow's going to church, when he takes it only for a sanctuary? Don't you know Dur. Settled it upon the church, sir. that religion consists in charity with all mankind? Old Mir. The church! Nay, then the devil and that you should never think of being friends won't get him out of their clutches-Ten with Heaven, till you have quarrelled with all the thousand livres a-year upon the church! 'Tis down-world! Come, come, mind your business; Miraright sacrilege-Come, gentlemen, all hands to | bell loves you; 'tis now plain, and hold him to 't ; work; for half that sum, one of these monasteries give fresh orders that he shan't see you: We shall protect you a traitor from the law, a rebel- get more by hiding our faces sometimes, than by lious wife from her husband, and a disobedient | exposing them : a very mask, you see, whets de son from his own father. [Exit OLD MIRABELL. sire; but a pair of keen eyes through an iron Dug. But will you persuade me, that he is grate fire double upon them, with view and dist gone to a monastery? guise. But I must be gone upon my own affairs; I have brought my captain about again. Dur. Is your sister gone to the Filles Repenties? I tell you, sir, she's not fit for the society of repenting maids. Dug. Why so, sir? Dur. Because she's neither one nor the other; she's too old to be a maid, and too young to repent. [Exit; DUGARD after him. SCENE II.-The inside of a monastery; ORI- Ori. I hope, Bisarre, there is no harm in jesting with this religious habit. Bis. To me, the greatest jest in the habit is taking it in earnest: I don't understand this im prisoning people with the keys of Paradise, nor the merit of that virtue, which comes by constraint. Besides, we may own to one another, that we are in the worst company when among ourselves; for our private thoughts run us into those desires, which our pride resists from the attack of the world; and, you may remember, the first woman met the devil when she retired from her man. Ori. But I'm reconciled, methinks, to the mortification of a nunnery; because I fancy the habit becomes me. Bis. A well-contrived mortification, truly, that makes a woman look ten times handsomer than she did before! Aye, my dear, were there any religion in becoming dress, our sex's devotion were rightly placed; for our toilets would do the work of the altar; we should all be canon ized. Ori. But don't you think there is a great deal of merit in dedicating a beautiful face and person to the service of religion? Bis. Not half so much as devoting them to a pretty fellow: If our feminality had no business in this world, why was it sent hither? Let us dedicate our beautiful minds to the service of Heaven; and for our handsome persons, they become a box at the play, as well as a pew in the church. Ori. But the vicissitudes of fortune, the inconstancy of man, with other disappointments of life, require some place of religion, for a refuge from their persecution. Ori. But why will you trouble yourself with that coxcomb? Bis. Because he is a coxcomb: had I not better have a lover like him, that I can make an ass of, than a lover like yours, to make a fool of me? [Knocking below.] A message from Mirabell, I'll lay my life. [She runs to the door.] Come hither, run : thou charming nun, come hither. Ori. What's the news? [Runs to her. Bis. Don't you see who's below? Ori. I see nobody but a friar. Bis. Ah! Thou poor blind Cupid! O' my conscience, these hearts of ours spoil our heads instantly ! the fellows no sooner turn knaves, than we turn fools. A friar! Don't you see a villainous genteel mein under that cloak of hypocrisy, the loose careless air of a tall rake-helly fellow ! Ori. As I live, Mirabell turned friar! I hope, in Heaven, he's not in earnest. Bis. In earnest! Ha, ha, ha! are you in earnest? Now's your time; this disguise has he certainly taken for a passport, to get in and try your resolutions; stick to your habit, to be sure; treat him with disdain, rather than anger; for pride becomes us more than passion. Remember what I say, if you would yield to advantage, and hold on the attack; to draw him on, keep him off to be sure. The cunning gamesters never gain too fast; |