« VorigeDoorgaan »
prising, aunt? not at all, for a young couple to Ang. But I believe Mr Tattle meant the famake a match in winter! Not at all It's a plot vour to me; I thank him. to undermine cold weather, and destroy that Tatt. I did, as I hope to be saved, madam; usurper of a bed called a warming-pan.
my intentions were good. But this is the most Mrs Fore. I'm glad to hear you have so much cruel thing, to marry, one does not know how, fire in you, sir Sampson.
nor why, nor wherefore. The devil take me, if Ben. Mess, I fear his fire's little better than ever I was so much concerned at any thing in tinder; mayhap it will only serve to light a match my life! for somebody else. The young woman's a hand Ang. 'Tis very unhappy, if you don't care for some young woman, I can't deny it: but, father, one another. if I might be your pilot in this case, you should Tatt. The least in the world -that is, for not marry her. It is just the same thing as if so my part, I speak for myself. Gad, I never had you should sail as far as the Streights without the least thought of serious kindness—I never provision.
liked any body less in my life. Poor woman! Sir Sam. Who gave you authority to speak, Gad, I'm sorry for her, too; for I have no reasirrah? To your element, fish; be mute, fish, son to hate her neither; but, I believe I shall and to sea. Rule your helm, sirrah; don't di lead her a damned sort of a life.
Mrs Fore. He's better than no husband at Ben. Well, well, take you care of your own all-though he's a coscomb. [To FRAIL. helm; or you mayn't keep your new vessel Mrs Frail. (To her.] Ay, ay, it's well it's no steady.
worse. Nay, for my part, I always despised Mr Sir Sam. Why, you impudent tarpawlin ! sir Tattle of all things; nothing but his being my rah, do you bring your forecastle jests upon your husband could have made me like him less. father? But I shall be even with you; I won't Tatt. Look you there, I thought as much! give you a groat. Mr Buckram, is the convey Pox on't, I wish we could keep it secret! why, ance so worded, that nothing can possibly des- I don't believe any of this company would speak cend to this scoundrel ? I would not so much as of it. have him have the prospect of an estate, though Ben. If you suspect me, friend, I'll go out of there were no way to come to it, but by the north
the room. east passage.
Mrs Frail. But, my dear, that's impossible; Buck. Sir
, it is drawn according to your direc- the parson and that rogue Jeremy will publish tions; there is not the least cranny of the law un it. stopt.
Tatt. Ay, my dear, so they will, as you say. Ben. Lawyer, I believe there's many a cranny Ang. O, you'll agree very well in a little time; and leak unstopt in your conscience! If so be custom will make it easy for you. that one had a pump to your bosom, I believe Tatt. Easy! Pox on't, I don't believe I shall we should discover a foul hold. They say, a sleep to-night. witch will sail in a sieve—but, I believe the de Sir Sam. Sleep, quotha ! No; why, you would vil would not venture aboard your conscience. not sleep on your wedding-night? I'm an older And that's for you.
fellow than you, and don't mean to sleep. Sir Sam. Hold your tongue, sirrah. How now? Ben. Why, there's another match, now, as thof who's here?
a couple of privateers were looking for a prize,
and should fall foul of one another. I'ın sorry Enter Tattle, and Mrs Frail.
for the young man with all my heart. Look you,
friend, if I may advise you, when she's goingMrs Frail. O, sister, the most unlucky acci- for that you must expect, I have experience of dent !
her—when she's going, let her go. For no maMrs Fore. What's the matter?
trimony is tough enough to hold her; and if she Tatt. O, the two most unfortunate poor crea- can't drag her anchor along with her, she'll break tures in the world we are !
her cable, I can tell you that. Who's here! the Fore. Bless us! how so?
madman? Mrs Frail. Ah! Mr Tattle and I, poor Mr Tatile and I are-I can't speak it out.
Enter VALENTINE, SCANDAL, and JEREMY. Tatt. Nor I-But poor Mrs Frail and I Val. No; here's the fool; and, if occasion be,
I'll give it under my hand. Mrs Frail. Married.
Sir Sam. How now? Fore. Married! How?
Val. Sir, I'm come to acknowledge my errors, Tutt. Suddenly before we knew where we and ask your pardon. were—that villain Jeremy, by the help of dis Sir Sam. What! have you found your senses guises, tricked us into one another.
at last, then? In good time, sir. Fore. Why, you told me just now, you went Val. You were abused, sir; I never was disa hence in haste to be married!
may go round.
Fore. How? not mad! Mr Scandal?
not make me worthy of so generous and faithful Scand. No, really, sir; I'm his witness, it was a passion. Here's my hand; my heart was alall counterfeit.
ways yours, and struggled very hard to make this Val. I thought I had reasons
--but it was a
utmost trial of your virtue. [T. VALENTINE. poor
contrivance: the effect bas shewn it such. Val. Between pleasure and amazement, I am Sir Sam. Contrivance ! what; to cheat me? to lost—but, on my knees, I take the blessing. cheat your father! Sirrah, could you hope to Sir Sam. Oons, what is the meaning of this? prosper?
Ben, Mass, here's the wind changed againVal. Indeed, I thought, sir, when the father Father, you and I may make a voyage together, endeavoured to undo the son, it was a reasonable now! return of nature.
Ang. Well, sir Samson, since I have played Sir Sam. Very good, sir. Mr Buckram, are you a trick, I'll advise you how you may avoid you ready? Come, sir, will you sign aud seal? such another. Learn to be a good father, or
Val. If you please, sir; but, first, I would ask you'll never get a second wife. I always loved this lady one question.
your son, and hated your unforgiving nature. I Sir Sam. Sir, you must ask me leave first was resolved to try him to the utmost; I have That lady! No, sir; you shall ask that lady no tried you, too, and know you both. You have questions, till have asked her blessing, sir; not more faults than he has virtues; and it is that lady is to be my wife.
hardly more pleasure to me, that I can make Val. I have heard as much, sir; but I would him and myself happy, than that I can punish have it from her own mouth.
you. Sir Sam. That's as much as to say I lie, sir, Sir Sam. Oons, you are a crocodile, and you don't believe what I say?
Fore. Really, sir Sampson, this is a sudden Val. Pardon me, sir. But I reflect that I very eclipse. lately counterfeited madness: I don't know but Sir Sam. You're an illiterate old fool; and I'm the frolic
another. Sir Sam. Come, chuck, satisfy him, answer Tatt. If the gentleman is in disorder for want him. Come, Mr Buckram, the pen and ink. of a wife, I can spare him mine. Oh, are you
Buck. Here it is, sir, with the deed; all is there, sir? I am indebted to you for my happiready. (VAL. goes to ANG.
(TO JEREMY. Ang. 'Tis true, you have a great while pre Jer. Sir, I ask you ten thousand pardons : it tended love to me; nay, what if you were sin was an arrant mistake. You see, sir, my inaster cere? Still you must pardon me, if I think my was never mad, nor any thing like it. Then, own inclinations have a better right to dispose of how can it be otherwise?" my person, than yours.
Val. Tatile, I thank you; you would have inSir Sam. Are you answered now, sir? terposed between me and Heaven; but ProviVal. Yes, sir.
dence laid purgatory in your way. You have Sir Sam. Where's your plot, sir? and your con
but justice. trivance now, sir? Will you sign, sir? Come, Scand. I hear the fiddles that sir Sampson prowill you sign and seal?
vided for his own wedding; methinks it is pity Val. With all my heart, sir.
they should not be employed when the match is Scand. 'Sdeath, you are not inad, indeed? to so much mended. Valentine, though it be mornruin yourself?
ing, we may have a dance. Val. I have been disappointed of my only Val. Any thing, my friend; every thing that hope; and he that loses hope may part with any looks like joy and transport. thing. I never valued fortune, but as it was sub Scand. Call them, Jeremy. servient to my pleasure; and my only pleasure Ang. I have done dissembling now, Valentine; was to please this lady : I have made many vain and if that coldness, which I have always worn attempts; and find, at last, that nothing but my before you, should turn to an extreme fondness, ruip can effect it; which, for that reason, I will you must not suspect it. sign to. Give me the paper.
Val. I'll prevent that suspicion-for I intend Ang. Generous Valentine !
[Aside. to doat to that immoderate degree, that your Buck. Here is the deed, sir,
fondness shall never distinguish itself enough to Val. But where is the bond, by which I am be taken notice of. If ever you seem to love obliged to sign this ?
too much, it must be only when I cannot love Buck. Sir Sampson, you have it.
enough. Ang. No, I have it ; and I'll use it, as I Ang. Have a care of promises: you know you would every thing that is an enemy to Valentine. are apt to run more in debt than you are able
[Tears the paper. to pay, Sir Sam. How now?
Vál. Therefore, I yield my body as your priVal. Ha !
soner, and make your best on't. Ang. Had I the world to give you, it could Scand. [TO ANGELIca.] Well, madam, you Vol. II.
have done exemplary justice, in punishing an in- | the constancy to stay till it becomes your due.human father, and rewarding a faithful lover :- Men are generally hypocrites and infidels; they but there is a third good work, which I, in parti- pretend to worship, but have neither zeal nor cular, must thank you for: I was an infidel to faith. How few, like Valentine, would persevere your sex, and you have converted me—for now even to martyrdom, and sacrifice their interest to Ỉ am convinced, that all women are not, like for their inconstancy! In admiring me, you mistune, blind in bestowing favours, either on those place the novelty. who do not merit, or who do not want them.
Ang. It is an unreasonable accusation, that The miracle to-day is, that we find you lay upon our sex. You tax us with injus A lover true; not that a woman's kind. tice, only to cover your own want of merit. You
[Ereunt omnes, would all have the reward of love; but few have
A TRIP TO THE JUBILEE.
Dicky, a pimp. Sir HARRY WildAir, a gay man of fashion.
Tom ERRAND, a porter. Beau CLINCHER, an ignorant corcomb.
WOMEN. Colonel STANDARD, attached to Lady Lurewell. | ANGELICA, attached to Sir Harry Wildair. ALDERMAN SMUGGLER, a city dotard.
Lady Darling, mother to Angelica. CLINCHER Junior, a raw blockhead.
Parly, servant to Lady Lurewell. VIZARD, a hypocrite, pretending to Lady Lure LADY LUREWELL, an artful coquette.
Scene - London.
SCENE I.-The Park.
letter, like yourself, fair on the outside, and foul
within; so sent it back unopened. Enter Vizard with a letter, his servant follow
Viz. May obstinacy guard her beauty till wrining.
kles bury it! then, may desire prevail to make Viz. Angelica send it back unopened ! say her curse that untimely pride her disappointed
age repents! I'll be revenged the very first opSer. As you see, sir.
portunity Saw the old lady Darling, her Viz. The pride of these virtuous women is inother? more insufferable than the immodesty of prosti Ser. Yes, sir, and she was pleased to say much tutes-After all my encouragement, to slight me in your commendation. thus !
Viz. That's my cue -An esteem grafted in Ser. She said, sir, that imagining your morals old age is hardly rooted out; years stiffen their sincere, she gave you access to her conversation ; opinions with their bodies, and old zeal is only but that your late behaviour in her company has to be cozened by young hypocrisy. [ Aside.] Run convinced her that your love and your religion to the lady Lurewell's, and know of her maid are both hypocrisy, and that she believes your whether her ladyship will be at home this even
ing. Her beauty is sufficient cure for Angeli- | There are five and thirty strapping officers gone
this morning to live upon free quarters in the [Erit servant. VIZARD pulls out a book, city. reads, and walks about.]
Smug. Oh, lord! Oh, lord! I shall have a son
within these nine months born with a leading Enter SMUGGLER.
staff in his hand. Sir, you areSmug. Ay, there's a pattern for the young men Stand. What, sir ? o'the times! at bis meditation so early! some Smug. Sir, I
that book of pious ejaculations, I'm sure.
Stand. What, sir? Viz. This Hobbes is an excellent fellow ! - Smug. Disbanded, sir, that's all -I see the [Aside.] Oh, uncle Smuggler! To find you at this lawyer yonder.
[Erit. end o' the town is a miracle.
Viz. Sir, I'm very sorry for your misfortune. Smug. I have seen a miracle this morning, in Stand. Why so? I don't come to borrow deed, cousin Vizard.
you. If you're my friend, meet me Viz. What is it, pray, sir?
this evening at the Rummer; I'll pay my foy, Smug. A man at his devotion so near the dring a health to my king, prosperity to my coun
I'm very glad, boy that you keep try, and away for Hungary to-morrow morning. your sanctity untainted in this infectious place; Viz. What you won't leave us? the very air of this park is heathenish, and Stand. What! a soldier stay here, to look like every man's breath I meet scents of atheism. an old pair of colours in Westminster Hall,
Viz. Surely, sir, some great concern must ragged and rusty! No, no - I met yesterday bring you to this unsanctified end of the a broken lieutenant; he was ashamed to own
that he wanted a dinner, but begged eighteenSmug. A very unsanctified concern truly, pence of me to buy a new scabbard for his cousin.
sword. Viz. What is it?
Viz. Oh, but you have good friends, colonel! Smug. A law-suit, boy-Shall I tell you ? Stand. Oh, very good friends! My father's a — My ship, the Swan, is newly arrived from St lord, and my elder brother a beau; mighty good Sebastian, laden with Portugal wines : now, the friends, indeed! impudent rogue of a tide-waiter has the face to Viz. But your country may perhaps want your affirm it is French wines in Spanish casks, and sword again, has indicted me upon the statute-Oh, con Stund. Nay, for that matter, let but a single science ! conscience! these tide-waiters and sur- drum beat up for volunteers between Ludgate veyors plague us more with their French wives, and Charing-Cross, and I shall undoubtedly hear than the war did with French privateers it at the walls of Buda. Ay, there's another plague of the nation
Viz. Come, come, colonel, there are ways of Enter COLONEĻ STANDARD.
making your fortune at home-Make your
addresses to the fair; you're a man of honour A red coat and feather. Viz. Colonel Standard, I'm your humble ser Stand. Ay, my courage is like to do me won
drous service with the fair. This pretty cross Stand. May be not, sir.
cut over my eye will attract a duchess--I warViz. Why so?
rant 'twill be a mighty grace to my oglingStand. Because I'm disbanded.
Had I used the stratagem of a certain brother Viz. How ! Broke?
colonel of mine, I might succeed. Stand. This very morning, in Hyde-Park, my
Viz. What was it, pray? brave regiment, a thousand men, that looked like Stand. Why, to save his pretty face for the lions yesterday, were scattered, and looked as women, he always turned his back upon the poor and simple as the herd of deer that grazed enemy. -Ile was a man of honour for the beside them.
ladies. Smug. Tal, al, deral. [Singing.]I'll have a bon Viz. Come, come, the loves of Mars and fire this night as high as the monument.
Venus will never fail; you must get a mistress. Stund. A bonfire! Thou dry, withered, ill Stand. Prithee, no more on't-You have awanature ! had not those brave fellows' swords de-kened a thought, from which, and the kingdom, I fended you, your house had been a bonfire ere would have stolen away at once. To be plain, I this about your ears.—Did we not venture our have a mistress. lives, sir?
Viz. And she's cruel ? Smug. And did we not pay for your lives, sir? Stand. No. Venture your lives! I'm sure we ventured our Viz. Her parents prevent your happiness? money, and that's life and soul to me.---Sir, Stand. Not that. we'll maintain you no longer.
l'iz. Then she has no fortune? Stand. Then your wives shall, old Actæon. Stund. A large one. Beauty to tempt all man