1.

[1]

THE

Way of the World.

ACT I. SCENE I

A Chocolate-House.

Mirabell and Fainall [Rifing from Cards.] Betty waiting.

Mira.

"Y°

U are a fortunate Man, Mr. Fainall.

Fain. Have we done?

Mira. What you please. I'll play on to entertain you. Fain. No, I'll give you your Revenge another time, when you are not fo indifferent; you are thinking of fomething else now, and play too negligently; the Coldness of a lofing Gamester leffens the Pleasure of the Winner: I'd no more play with a Man that flighted his ill Fortune, than I'd make Love to a Woman who undervalu'd the Lofs of her Reputation.

Mira. You have a Taste extreamly delicate, and are for refining on your Pleasures.

Fain. Prithee, why so reserv'd? Something has put you out of Humour.

Mira. Not at all: I happen to be grave to Day; and you are gay; that's all.

Fain. Confefs, Millamant and you quarrell'd laft Night, after I left you, my fair Coufin has fome Humours that wou'd tempt the Patience of a Stoick. What, fome Coxcomb came in, and was well receiv'd by her, while you were by.

Mira. Witwoud and Petulant; and what was worse, her Aunt, your Wife's Mother, my evil Genius; or to fum up all in her own Name, my old Lady Wishfort came in.

B

Fain.

Fain. O there it is then She has a lasting Passion for you, and with Reason. -What, then my Wife was there?

Mira. Yes, and Mrs. Marwood and Three or Four more, whom I never faw before; fecing me, they all put on their grave Faces, whisper'd one another; then complain'd aloud of the Vapours, and after fell into a profound Silence.

Fain. They had a mind to be rid of you.

Mira. For which Reason I refolv'd not to stir. At last the good old Lady broke thro' her painful Taciturnity, with an Invective against long Vifits. I would not have understood her, but Millamant joining in the Argument, I rofe and with a constrain'd Smile told her, I thought nothing was fo eafie as to know when a Vifit began to be troublesome, the reden'd and I withdrew, without expecting her Reply.

Fain. You were to blame to refent what the spoke only in Compliance with her Aunt.

Mira. She is more Miftrefs of her felf, than to be under the neceffity of fuch a Refignation.

Fain. What? tho' half her Fortune depends upon her Marrying with my Lady's Approbation?

Mira. I was then in fuch a Humour, that I shou'd have been better pleas'd if she had been lefs difcreet.

Fain. Now I remember, I wonder not they were weary of you; laft Night was one of their Cabal-Nights; they have 'em three times a Week, and meet by turns, at one another's Apartments, where they come together like the Coroner's Inqueft, to fit upon the murder'd Reputations of the Week. You and I are excluded; and it was once propos'd that all the Male Sex fhou'd be excepted; but fome body mov'd that to avoid Scandal there might be one Man of the Community; upon which Motion Witwoud and Pelant were enroll'd Members.

Mira. And who may have been the Foundrefs of this Sect? My Lady Wifhfort, I warrant, who publishes her Deteftation of Mankind, and full of the Vigour of Fifty five, declares for a Friend and Ratafia; and let Pofterity fhift for it felf, fhe'll breed

no more.

Fain. The Discovery of your fham Addreffes to her, to conceal your Love to her Neice, has provok'd this Separation: Had you diffembl'd better, Things might have continu'd in the State of Nature.

Mira. I did as much as Man cou'd, with any reasonable Confcience; I proceeded to the very laft Act of Flattery with her, and

was

was guilty of a Song in her Commendation: Nay, I got a Friend to put her into a Lampoon, and complement her with the Imputation of an Affair with a young Fellow, which I carry'd so far, that I told her the malicious Town took notice that she was grown fat of a fudden; and when the lay in of a Dropfie, perfuaded her she was reported to be in Labour. The Devil's in't, if an old Woman is to be flatter'd further, unlefs a Man fhou'd endeavour downright perfonally to debauch her, and that my Virtue forbad me. But for the Discovery of this Amour, I am indebted to your Friend, or your Wife's Friend, Mrs. Marwood.

Fain. What fhould provoke her to be your Enemy, without she has made you Advances, which you have flighted? Women do not easily forgive Omiffions of that Nature.

Mira. She was always civil to me, 'till of late, I confess I am not one of thofe Coxcombs who are apt to interpret a Woman's good Manners to her Prejudice, and think that the who does not refuse 'em ev'ry thing, can refuse 'em nothing.

Fain. You are a gallant Man, Mirabell, and tho' you may have Cruelty enough, not to fatisfie a Lady's longing, you have too much Generofity, not to be tender of her Honour. Yet you speak with an Indifference which feems to be affected; and confeffes you are confcious of a Negligence.

Mira. You pursue the Argument with a Distrust that seems to be unaffected,and confeffes you are confcious of a Concern for which the Lady is more indebted to you than your Wife.

Fain. Fie, fie Friend, if you grow Cenforious I muft leave you; I'll look upon the Gamesters in the next Room.

Mira. Who are they?

Fain. Petulant and Witwoud.-Bring me fome Chocolate. [Exit. Mira. Betty, what fays your Clock?

Bet. Turn'd of the last Canonical Hour, Sir.

[Exit. Mira. How pertinently the Jade anfwers we! Ha? almost one a Clock! [Looking on his Watch.] O, y'are come

Enter a Servant.

Well, is the grand Affair over? You have been something tedious. Serv. Sir, there's fuch Coupling at Pancras, that they stand behind one another, as 'twere in a Country Dance. Ours was the laft Couple to lead up; and no Hopes appearing of dispatch, befides, the Parfon growing hoarfe, we were afraid his Lungs would have fail'd before it came to our Turn; so we drove round to Duke's-Place, and there they were rivetted in a Trice. Mira. So, fo, you are fure they are Married.

B 2

Serv.

Serv. Married and Bedded, Sir: I am Witness.

Mira. Have you the Certificate?

Serv. Here it is, Sir.

Mira. Has the Taylor brought Waitwell's Cloaths home, and the new Liveries?

Serv. Yes, Sir.

Mira. That's well. Do you go home again, d'ye hear, and adjourn the Confummation 'till farther Order; bid Waitwell shake his Ears, and Dame Partlet ruftle up her Feathers, and meet me at One a Clock by Rofamond's Pond; that I may see her before she returns to her Lady: And as you tender your Ears be fecret. [Exit Servant.

Re-Enter Fainall.

Fain. Joy of your Succefs, Mirabell; you look pleas'd. Mira. Ay, I have been engag'd in a Matter of fome fort of Mirth, which is not yet ripe for Discovery. I am glad this is not a Cabal-Night. I wonder, Fainall, that you who are Married, and of Confequence fhould be difcreet, will fuffer your Wife to be of such a Party.

Fain. Faith, I am not Jealous. Befides, moft who are engag'd are Women and Relations; and for the Men, they are of a Kind too Contemptible to give Scandal.

Mira. I am of another Opinion. The greater the Coxcomb, always the more the Scandal: For a Woman who is not a Fool, can have but one Reason for associating with a Man that is.

Fain. Are you Jealous as often as you fee Witwoud entertain'd by Millamant?

Mira. Of her Understanding I am, if not of her Perfon.

Fain. You do her wrong; for to give her her Due, she has Wit. Mira. She has Beauty enough to make any Man think fo; and Complaifance enough not to contradict him who fhall tell her fo. Fain. For a paffionate Lover, methinks you are a Man fomewhat too difcerning in the Failings of your Mistress.

Mira. And for a difcerning Man, fomewhat too paffionate a Lover; for I like her with all her Faults; nay, like her for her Faults. Her Follies are so natural, or fo artful, that they become her; and thofe Affectations which in another Woman wou'd be odious, ferve but to make her more agreeable. I'll tell thee, Fainall, the once us'd me with that Infolence, that in Revenge Itook her to pieces; fifted her and feparated her Failings; I ftudy'd 'em, and got 'em by Rote. The Catalogue was fo large, that I was not without Hopes, one Day or other to hate her heartily: To

which end I fo us'd my felf to think of 'em, that at length, contrary to my Defign and Expectation, they gave me ev'ry Hour lefs and lefs Disturbance; 'till in a few Days it became habitual to me, to remember 'em without being difpleas'd. They are now grown as familiar to me as my own Frailties; and in all probability in a little time longer I fhall like 'em as well.

Fain. Marry her, marry her; be half as well acquainted with her Charms, as you are with her Defects, and my Life on't, you are your own Man again.

Mira. Say you fo?

Fain. I, I, I have Experience: I have a Wife, and fo forth. Enter Meffenger.

Meff. Is one Squire Witwoud here?

Bet. Yes; What's your Bufinefs?

Mell. I have a Letter for him, from his Brother Sir Wilfull, which I am charg'd to deliver into his own Hands.

Bet. He's in the next Room, Friend-That way. [Exit Meff Mira. What, is the chief of that Noble Family in Town, Sir Wilfull Witwoud?

Fain. He is expected to Day. Do you know him?.

Mira. I have feen him, he promises to be an extraordinary Perfon; I think you have the Honour to be related to him.

Fain. Yes; he is half Brother to this Witwoud by a former Wife, who was Sifter to my Lady Wishfort, my Wife's Mother. If you marry Millamant you must call Coufins too.

Mira. I had rather be his Relation than his Acquaintance. Fain. He comes to Town in order to Equip himself for Travel. Mira. For Travel! Why the Man that I mean is above Forty. Fain. No matter for that; 'tis for the Honour of England, that all Europe should know we have Blockheads of all Ages.

Mira. I wonder there is not an Act of Parliament to fave the Credit of the Nation, and prohibit the Exportation of Fools. Fain. By no means, 'tis better as 'tis, 'tis better to Trade with a little Lofs, than to be quite caten up, with being overstock'd. Mira. Pray, are the Follies of this Knight-Errant, and those of the Squire his Brother, any thing related?

Fain. Not at all; Witwoud grows by the Knight, like a Medlar grafted on a Crab. One will melt in your Mouth, and t'other fet your Teeth on edge; one is all Pulp, and the other all Core. Mira. So one will be Rotten before he be Ripe, and the other will be Rotten without ever being Ripe at all.

Fain. Sir Wilfull is an odd Mixture of Bashfulness and Obstina

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