Tai. An't please you, I'm a dissenting journeyman tailor. Sir John. Then, sirrah, you love lying by your religion, and theft by your trade: And so, that your punishments may be suitable to your crimes -I'll have you first gagged-and then hanged. Tui. Pray, good worthy gentleman, don't abuse me! indeed I'm an honest man, and a good workman, though I say it, that should not say it. Sir John. No words, sirrah, but attend your fate. Lord Rake. Let me see what's in that bundle. Tui. An't please you, it's my lady's short cloak and wrapping gown. Sir John. What lady, you reptile, you? Tai. My lady Brute, an't please your honour. Sir John. My lady Brute! my wife! the robe of my wife with reverence let me approach it. The dear angel is always taking care of me in danger, and has sent me this suit of armour to protect me in this day of battle-on they go. All. O brave knight! Lord Rake. Live Don Quixotte the second! Sir John. Sancho, my 'squire, help me on with my armour. Tai. O dear gentlemen! I shall be quite undone if you take the sack. Sir John. Retire, sirrah! and since you carry off your skin, go home, and be happy. So! how d'ye like my shapes now? Lord Rake. To a miracle! He looks like a queen of the Amazons-But to your arms, gentlemen! The enemy's upon their march-here's the watch Sir John. 'Oons! if it were Alexander the Great, at the head of his army, I would drive him into a horse-pond. All. Huzza! O brave knight! Enter Watchmen. Sir John. See! Here he comes, with all his Greeks about him What the plague ails me?-Love? No, I thank you for that, my heart's rock still-Yes, 'tis Belinda that disturbs me, that's positiveWell, what of all that? Must I love her for being troublesome? At that rate, I might love all the women I meet, 'egad. But hold!—though I don't love her for disturbing me, yet she may disturb me, because I love her-Ay, that inay be, faith! I have dreamt of her, that's certainWell, so I have of my mother; therefore, what's that to the purpose? Ay, but Belinda runs in my mind waking and so does many a damned thing, that I don't care a farthing for-Methinks, though, I would fain be talking to her, and yet I have no business-Well, am I the first man that has had a mind to do an impertinent thing? Watch. Hey-day! Who have we got here! have mighty hopes of it. Sure you must be vory Stand. Sir John. May-hap not. Watch. What are you all doing here in the streets at this time o'night? And who are you, madam, that seems to be at the head of this noble crew? Sir John. Sirrah, I'm Bonduca, queen of the Welchmen; and with a leek as long as my pedigree, I will destroy your Roman legion in an instant-Britons, strike home! [Snatches a watchman's staff, strikes at the watch, and falls down, his party drove off] Watch. So! We have got the queen, however. We'll make her pay well for her ransom-Come, madam, will your majesty please to walk before the constable? well satisfied with her behaviour to you yesterday? Con. So well, that nothing but a lover's fears can make me doubt of success. But what can this sudden change proceed from? Heart. Why, you saw her husband beat her, did you not? Con. That's true: A husband is scarce to be borne upon any terms, much less when he fights with his wife. Methinks, she should e'en have cuckolded him upon the very spot, to shew, that after the battle she was master of the field. Heart. A council of war of women would infallibly have advised her to it. But, I confess, so agreeable a woman as Belinda deserves better usage. Con. Belinda again! Heart. My lady, I mean. What a pox makes you tremble justly. But how do you intend to me blunder so to-day? [Aside.] A plague of this proceed, friend? treacherous tongue. Heart, Thou know'st I'm but a novice; be Con. Pr'ythee look upon me seriously, Heart-friendly, and advise me. free-Now answer me directly: Is it my lady, or Belinda, employs your careful thoughts thus? Heart. My lady, or Belinda? Con. In love, by this light! in love. Con. Nay, ne'er deny it; for thou'lt do it so awkwardly, 'twill but make the jest sit heavier about thee. My dear friend, I give thee much joy. Heart. Why, pr'ythee, you won't persuade me to it, will you? Con. Why, look you then; I'd have youSerenade and a-write a song-Go to church; look like a fool-be very officious: Ogle, write and lead out: And who knows, but in a year or two's time, you may be--called a troublesome puppy, and sent about your business. Heart. That's hard. Con. Yet thus it oft falls out with lovers, sir. Heart, Pux on me for making one of the number! Con. Have a care; say no saucy things; 'twill but augment your crime; and if your mistress hears on't, increase your punishment. Con. That she's mistress of your tongue, that's plain; and I know you are so honest a fellow, your tongue and heart always go together. But Heart. Pr'ythee say something then to encou how-but how the devii? Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha!—rage me; you know I helped you in your dis Heart. Hey-day! Why sure you don't believe it in earnest? Con. Yes, I do,, because I see you deny it in jest. Heart. Nay, but look you, Ned- -any in jest- -a-gadzooks, you know I say a-- when a man denys a thing in jest a Con. Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha! tress. Con. Why, then, to encourage you to perseverance, that you may be thoroughly ill used for vour offences, I'll put you in mind, that even the -de-coyest ladies of them all are made up of desires, as well as we; and though they do hold out a long time, they will capitulate at last. For that thundering engineer, Nature, does make such havoc in the town, they must surrender at the long-run, or perish in their own flames. Heart. Nay, then, we shall have it: What, because a man stumbles at a word! Did you never make a blunder? Con. Yes; for I am in love, I own it. Heart. Then, so am I——Now laugh till thy soul's glutted with mirth, [Embracing him.] But, dear Constant, don't tell the town on't. Con. Nay, then, 'twere almost pity to laugh at thee, after so honest a confession. But tell us a little, Jack, by what new invented arms has this mighty stroke been given? Heart. E'en by that unaccountable weapon, called je-ne sçai-quoi: For every thing, that can come within the verge of beauty, I have seen it with inditterence. Con. So, in few words then, the je-ne sçaiquoi has been too hard for the quilted petticoat. Heart. 'Egad, I think the je-ne sçai-quoi is in the quilted petticoat; at least 'tis certain, I ne'er think on't without—a—a je-ne sçai-quoi in every part about me. Con. Well, but have all your remedies lost their virtue! Have you turned her inside out yet? Heart. I dare not so much as think on't. Con. But don't the two years fatigue I have had, discourage you? Heart. Yes: I dread what I foresee; yet cannot quit the enterprize. Like some soldiers, whose courage dwells more in their honour than their nature: On they go, though the body treinbles at what the soul makes it undertake, Con. Nay, if you expect your mistress will use you, as your profanations against her sex deserve, Enter FOOTMAN. Foot. Sir, there's a porter without, with a let ter; he desires to give it into your own hands. Con. Call him in. Enter PORTER. What, Joe! Is it thee? Por. An't please you, sir, I was ordered to deliver this into your own hands, by two wellshaped ladies at the New Exchange. I was at your honour's lodgings, and your servants sent me hither. Con. 'Tis well; are you to carry any answer? Por. No, my noble master! Can. Very well; there. [Gives him money. Por. God bless your honour! [Exit PORTER. Con. Now let's see what honest, trusty Joe has brought us, [Reads. If you and your play-fellow can spare time 'from your business and devotions, don't fail to 'be at Spring Garden about eight in the evening, "You'll find nothing there but women, so you need bring no other arms than what you usually carry about you.' 6 So, play-fellow: here's something to stay your stomach, till your mistress's dish is ready for you. Heart. Some of our old battered acquaintance; I won't go, not I. Con. Nay, that you can't avoid; there's honourin the case; 'tis a challenge, and I want a second. Const. Come, forsooth, come along, if you please! I once, in compassion, thought to have scen you safe home this morning; but you have been so rampant and abusive all night, I shall see what the justice of peace will say to you. Sir John. And you shall see what I'll say to the justice of peace, sirrah! [WATCHMAN knocks at the door. Enter SERVANT. Const. Is Mr Justice at home? Const. Pray acquaint his worship we have got an unruly woman here, and desire to know what he'll please to have done with her. [Exit SERV. Ser. I'll acquaint my master. Sir John. Hark you, constable, what cuckoldy justice is this? Const. One that knows how to deal with such romps as you are, I'll warrant you. Enter JUSTICE, Just. Well, Mr constable, what is the matter there? Const. An't please your worship, this here comical sort of a gentlewoman has committed great outrages to-night. She has been frolicking with my lord Rake and his gang; they attacked the watch, and I hear there has been a man killed I believe 'tis they have done it. Sir John. Sir, there may have been murder for aught I know; and 'tis a great mercy there has not been a rape, too--that fellow would have ravished me. 2d Watch. Ravish! ravish! O lud! Olud! O lud! Ravish her! Why, please your worship, I heard Mr Constable sav he believed she was little better than a maphrodite. civil: It was in defence of my honour, and I demand satisfaction. 2d Watch. I hope your worship will satisfy her honour in Bridewell; that fist of hers will make an admirable hemp-beater. Sir John. Sir, I hope you will protect me against that libidinous rascal: I am a woman of quality, and virtue too, for all I am in an undress this morning. rable to you, I desire I may know who you are. Just. Ay, but your surname, madam? Sir John. Sir, my surname's the very same with my husband's. Just. A strange woman this! Who is your husband, pray? Sir John. Sir John. Sir John. Sir John Brute. Just. Is it possible, madam, you can be my lady Brute? Sir John. That happy woman, sir, am I; only a little in my merriment to night. Just. I am concerned for sir John. Just. I have heard he's an honest gentleman, Just. Good lack! Indeed, lady, I'm sorry he has such a wife. Sir John. I am sorry he has any wife at all. Just. And so perhaps may he-I doubt you have not given him a very good taste of matri mony. Sir John. Taste, sir! sir, I have scorned to stint him to a taste; I have given him a full meal of it. Just. Indeed, I believe so. But pray, fair lady, may he have given you any occasion for this extraordinary conduct? does he not use you well? Sir John. A little upon the rough, sometimes. Just. Ay, any man may be out of humour now and then. Sir John. Sir, I love peace and quiet, and when a woman don't find that at home, she's apt sometimes to comfort herself with a few innocent diversions abroad. Just. I doubt he uses you but too well. Pray, how does he as to that weighty thing, money? Just. Why, truly, she does seem a little mas-Does he allow you what is proper of that? culine about the mouth. 2d Watch. Yes, and about the hands too, an't please your worship. I did but offer in mere civility, to help her up the steps into our apartment, and with her gripen fist thus [SIR JOHN knocks him down. Sir John. Just so, sir, I felled him to the ground like an ox. Just. Out upon this boisterous woman! Out pon her! Sir John. Sir, I have generally enough to pay the reckoning, if this son of a whore of a drawer would but bring his bill. Just. A strange woman this!-Does he spend reasonable portion of his time at home, to the comfort of his wife and children? a Sir John. He never gave his wife cause to repine at his being abroad in his life. Just. Pray, madam, how may he be in the grand matrimonial point-Is he true to your Sir John. Mr Justice, he would have been un-bed? Sir John. Chaste! Oons! This fellow asks so many impertinent questions! I'gad I believe it is the justice's wife, in the justice's clothes. Just. Pray, madam, (and then I've done) what may be your ladyship's common method of life, if I may presume so far? Sir John. Why, sir, much that of a woman of quality. Just. Pray, how may you generally pass your time, madam? your morning, for example? -I Sir John. Sir, like a woman of qualitywake about two o'clock in the afternoon-I stretch-and make a sign for my chocolateWhen I have drank three cups-I slide down again upon my back, with my arms over my head, while my two maids put on my stockings. Then, hanging upon their shoulders, I am trailed to my great chair, where I sit-and yawn-for my breakfast-If it don't come presently, I lie down upon my couch to say my prayers, while my maid reads me the play-bills. Just. Very well, madam. Sir John. When the tea is brought in, İ drink twelve regular dishes, with eight slices of bread and butter-And half an hour after, I send to the cook to know if the dinner is almost ready. Sir John. When I have dined, and my idle servants are presumptuously set down at their ease, to do so too, I call for my coach, to go visit dear friends, of whom I hope I never shall find one at home, while I shall live. Just. So! There's the morning and afternoon pretty well disposed of Pray, madam, how do you pass your evenings? Sir John. Like a woman of spirit, sir, a great spirit. Give me a box and dice-Seven's the main, Oons! Sir, I set you a hundred pounds! Why, do you think women are married now adays, to sit at home and mend napkins? Sir, we have nobler ways of passing time. Just. Mercy upon us, Mr Constable, what will this age come to? Const. What will it come to, indeed, if such women as these are not set in the stocks? Sir John. Sir, I have a little urgent business calls upon me; and therefore, I desire the favour of you to bring matters to a conclusion. Just. Madam, if I were sure that business were not to commit more disorders, I would re lease you. Sir John. None—By my virtue. Just. Then, Mr Constable, you may discharge her. Sir John. Sir, your very humble servant. If you please to accept of a bottle Just. I thank you kindly, madam; but I never drink in a morning. Good-by-t'ye, madam, goodby-t'ye. Sir John. Good-by-t'ye, good sir.[Exit Justice. So-now, Mr Constable, shall you and I go pick up a whore together? Const. No, thank you, madam; my wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable man. Sir John. [Aside.] He, he, he, he, he! the fool is married then. Well, you won't go? Const. Not I, truly. Sir John. Then I'll go by myself; and you and your wife may go to the devil. [Exit SIR JOHN. [Constable gazing after her.] Why, god-a-mercy, lady! [Exeunt, SCENE IV.-Spring-Garden. CONSTANT and HEARTFREE cross the Stage. As they go off, enter LADY FANCIFUL and MADEMOISELLE masked, and dogging them. Con. So; I think we are about the time appointed: Let us walk up this way. [Exeunt. Lady Fan. Good: Thus far I have dogged them without being discovered. 'Tis infallibly some intrigue that brings them to Spring-Garden. How my poor heart is torn and wrackt with fear and jealousy! Yet let it be any thing but that flirt Belinda, and I'll try to bear it. But if it proves her, all that's woman in me shall be employed to destroy her. [Exeunt after CONSTANT and HEARTFREE, Re-enter CONSTANT and HEARTFREE. LADY FANCYFUL and MADEMOISELLE still following at a distance. Con. I see no females yet, that have any thing to say to us. I'm afraid we are bantered. Heart. I wish we were; for I'm in no humour to make either them or myself merry. Con. Nay, I'm sure you'll make them merry enough, if I tell them why you are dull. But, prithee, why so heavy and sad before you begin to be ill used? Heart. For the same reason, perhaps, that you are so brisk and well pleased; because both pains and pleasures are generally more considerable in prospect, than when they come to pass. Enter LADY Brute and Belinda, masked, and poorly dressed. Con. How now! who are these? Not our game, I hope. Heart. If they are, we are e'en well enough served, to come a hunting here, when we had so much better game in chase elsewhere. Lady Fan. [to Mademoiselle.] So, those are their ladies without doubt. But I'm afraid that doily stuff is not worn for want of better clothes. They are the very shape and size of Belinda and her aunt. Madem. So dey be inteed, matam. Lady Fan. We'll slip into this close arbour, where we may hear all they say. [Exeunt LADY FANCYFUL and MADEMOISELLE. Lady Brute. What, are you afraid of us, gentlemen? Heart. Why, truly, I think we may, if ances don't lie. Heart. Sir John, your servant, Raptures attend you. Con. Adieu, ladies; make much of the gentieman. Lady Brute. Why, sure you won't leave us iD the hands of a drunken fellow to abuse us! Sir John. Who do you call a drunken fellow, you slut you? I'm a man of quality; the king has made me a knight. appear Bel. Do you always find women what they appear to be, sir? Heart. No, forsooth; but I seldom find them better than they appear to be. Bel. Then the outside's best, you think? Con. Have a care, Heartfree; you are relapsing again. Lady Brute. Why, does the gentleman use to rail at women? Con. He has done formerly. Bel. I suppose he had very good cause for it. They did not use you so well, as you thought you deserved, sir. Lady Brute. They made themselves merry at your expence, sir. Bel. Laughed, when you sighed. Lady Brute. Slept, while you were waking. Lady Brute. And threw your billet-doux in the fire. Heart, Hey-day! I shall do more than rail presently. Bel. Why, you won't beat us, will you? Con. What the devil's coming here? Sir John in a gown-And drunk, i'faith." [He seizes both the women. Heart. Why, what the plague have you been doing, knight? Sir John. Why, I have been beating the watch, and scandalizing the clergy, Heart. A very good account, truly. Sir John. And what do you think I'll do next? Con. Nay, that no man can guess, Sir John. Why, if you'll let me sup with you, I'll treat both your strumpets. Lady Brute. [Aside.] O Lord, we're undone. Heart. No, we can't sup together, because we have some affairs elsewhere. But if you'll accept of these two ladies, we'll be so complaisant to you, to resign our right in thein. Bel. [Aside.] Lord, what shall we do? Sir John. Let me see, their clothes are such damned clothes, they won't pawn for the reckoning. | Heart. Ay, ay, you are in good hands; adieu, adieu. [HEARTFREE runs off. Lady Brute. The devil's hands: Let me go, or -For Heaven's sake, protect us. I'll [She breaks from him, runs to CONSTANT, twitching off her mask, and clapping it on again. Sir John. I'll devil you, you jade you. I'll demolish your ugly face. Re-enter HEARTFREE. BELINDA runs to him, and shews her fuce. Heart. Hold, thou mighty man! look ye, sir, we did but jest with you. These are ladies of our acquaintance, that we had a mind to frighten a little, but now you must leave us. Sir John. Oons, I won't leave you, not I. Heart. Nay, but you must, though; and, therefore, make no words on't. Sir John. Then, you are a couple of damned uncivil fellows. And I hope your punks will give you sauce to your mutton. [Exit SIR JOHN, Lady Brute. Oh, I shall never come to myself again, I'm so frightened! Con. 'Tis a narrow escape, indeed. Bel. Women must have frolics, you see, whatever they cost them. Heart. This might have proved a dear one, though. Lady Brute. You are the more obliged to us for the risk we run upon your accounts. Con. And I hope you'll acknowledge something due to our knight-errantry, ladies. This is the second time we have delivered you. Lady Brute. 'Tis true; and since we see fate has designed you for our guardians, 'twill make us the more willing to trust ourselves in your hands. But you must not have the worse opinion of us for our innocent frolic. Heart. Ladies, you may command our opinions in every thing, that is to your advantage. Bel. Then, sir, I command you to be of opinion, that women are sometimes better than they appear to be. [LADY BRUTE and CONSTANT talk apart. Heart. Madam, you have made a convert of me in every thing. I'm grown a fool. I could be fond of a woman. |