Care. And thou art always spoiling company by coming into it. Brisk. Pooh, ha, ha, ha! I know you envy me. Spite, proud spite, by the gods! and burning envy. I'll be judged by Mellefont here, who gives and takes raillery better, you or I. Pshaw, man; when I say you spoil company by leaving it, I mean you leave nobody for the company to laugh at. I think there I was with you, ha! Mellefont? Mel. O' my word, Brisk, that was a home thrust-you have silenced him. Brisk. Oh, my dear Mellefont, let me perish, if thou art not the soul of conversation, the very essence of wit, and spirit of wine-The deuce take me, if there were three good things said, or one understood, since thy amputation from the body of our society-Heh! I think that's pretty, and metaphorical enough: Egad, I could not have said it out of thy company-Careless, ha! Care. Hum, what is it? Brisk. O, mon cœur! What is it! Nay, gad, I will punish you for want of apprehension: the deuce take me, if I tell you. Mel. No, no, hang him, he has no taste-But, dear Brisk, excuse me, I have a little business. Care. Prithee, get thee gone: thou see'st we are serious. Mel. We'll come immediately, if you'll but go in, and keep up good humour and sense in the company: Prithee do-they'll fall asleep else. Brisk. Egad so they will-Well, I will, I will; gad you shall command me from the zenith to the nadir. But the deuce take me, if I say a good thing till you come. But, prithee, dear rogue, make haste, prithee make haste, I shall burst else. And yonder your uncle, my lord Touchwood, swears he will disinherit you, and sir Paul Plyant threatens to disclaim you for a son-in-law, and my lord Froth won't dance at your wedding to-morrow; nor the deuce take me, I won't write your epithalamium-and see what a condition you are like to be brought to. Mel. Well, I will speak but three words, and follow you. Brisk. Enough, enough. Careless, bring your apprehension along with you. [Exit BRISK. Care. Pert coxcomb! Mel. Faith, 'tis a good-natured coxcomb, and has very entertaining follies-You must be more humane to him; at this juncture it will do me service. I'll tell you, I would have mirth continued this day at any rate, though patience purchase folly, and attention be paid with noise.There are times, when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth. Prithee, do thou wear none to-day; but allow Brisk to have wit, that thou mayst seem a fool. Care. Why, how now, why this extravagant proposition? Mel. O, I would have no room sign, for I am jealous of a plot VOL. II. for serious deI would have noise and impertinence keep my Lady Touchwood's head from working: for hell is not more busy than her brain, nor contains more devils than that imaginations. Care. I thought your fear of her had been over. Is not to-morrow appointed for your marriage with Cynthia, and her father sir Paul Plyant come to settle the writings this day, on purpose? Mel. True; but you shall judge, whether I have not reason to be alarmed. None, besides you and Maskwell, are acquainted with the secret of my aunt Touchwood's violent passion for me. Since my first refusal of her addresses, she has endeavoured to do me all ill offices with my uncle; yet has managed them with that subtilty, that to him they have borne the face of kindness, while her malice, like a dark lanthorn, only shone upon me, where it was directed. Still it gave me less perplexity to prevent the success of her displeasure, than to avoid the importunities of her love; and, of two evils, I thought myself favoured in her aversion: but, whether urged by her despair, and the short prospect of time she saw to accomplish her designs; whether the hopes of revenge, or of her love, terminated in the view of this my marriage with Cynthia, I know not; but this morning she surprised me in my bed. Care. Was there ever such a fury! It is well nature has not put it into her sex's power to ravish. Well, bless us! proceed. What followed? Mel. What at first amazed me; for I looked to have seen her in all the transports of a slighted and revengeful woman: but when I expected thunder from her voice, and lightning in her eyes, I saw her melted into tears, and hushed into a sigh. It was long before either of us spoke; passion had tied her tongue, and amazement mine. In short, the consequence was thus: she omitted nothing, that the most violent love could urge, or tender words express; which, when she saw had no effect, but still I pleaded honour and nearness of blood to my uncle, then came the storm I feared at first; for, starting from my bedside like a fury, she flew to my sword, and, with much ado, I prevented her doing me or herself a mischief: having disarmed her, in a gust of passion she left me, and in a resolution, confirmed by a thousand curses, not to close her eyes, till they had seen my ruin. Care. Exquisite woman! But, what the devil! does she think thou hast no more sense than to get an heir to disinherit thyself? for, as I take it, this settlement upon you is with a proviso, that your uncle have no children. Mel. It is so. Well, the service you are to do me will be a pleasure to yourself. I must get you to engage my lady Plyant all this evening, that my pious aunt may not work her to her interest; and, if you chance to secure her to yourself, you may incline her to mine. She is handsome, and Y knows it; is very silly, and thinks she has sense; | tious person-and the best company.—And and has an old fond husband. my lord Froth, your lordship is so merry a man, he, he, he! Care. I confess a very fair foundation for a lover to build upon. Lord Froth. O foy, sir Paul, what do you mean? Merry! O barbarous! I'd as lieve you Sir Paul. Nay, I protest and vow now, 'tis true; when Mr. Brisk jokes, your lordship's laugh does so become you, he, he, he! Mel. For my lord Froth, he and his wife will be sufficiently taken up with admiring one ano-called me fool. ther, and Brisk's gallantry, as they call it. I will observe my uncle myself; and Jack Maskwell has promised me to watch my aunt narrowly, and give me notice upon any suspicion. As for sir Paul, my wise father-in-law that is to be, my dear Cynthia has such a share in his fatherly fondness, he would scarce make her a moment uneasy, to have her happy hereafter. Cure. So, you have manned your works; but I wish you may not have the weakest guard, where the enemy is strongest. Mel. Maskwell, you mean; pr'ythee why should you suspect him? Care. Faith cannot help it; you know I never liked him; I am a little superstitious in physiognomy. Mel. He has obligations of gratitude to bind him to me; his dependence upon my uncle is through any means. Care. Upon your aunt, you mean. Care. I am mistaken, if there be not a familiarity between them you do not suspect, notwithstanding her passion for you. Mel. Pooh, pooh; nothing in the world but his design to do me service; and he endeavours to be well in her esteem, that he may be able to effect it. Care. Well, I shall be glad to be mistaken: but your aunt's aversion, in her revenge, cannot be any way so effectually shewn, as in bringing forth a child to disinherit you. She is handsome and cunning, and naturally wanton. Maskwell is flesh and blood at best, and opportunities between them are frequent. His affection to you, you have confessed, is grounded upon his interest; that you have transplanted; and, should it take root in my lady, I do not see what you can expect from the fruit. Mel. I confess the consequence is visible, were your suspicions just.-But see, the company is broke up; let us meet them. Enter Lord TOUCHWOOD, Lord FROTH, Sir Lord Touch. Out upon't, nephew-leave your father-in-law, and me, to maintain our ground against young people! Mel. I beg your lordship's pardon-we were just returning Lord Froth. Ridiculous! sir Paul, you're strangely mistaken; I find champagne is powerful. I assure you, sir Paul, I laugh at nobody's jest but my own, or a lady's; I assure you, sir Paul. Brisk. How? how, my lord? What, affront my wit! Let me perish, do I never say any thing worthy to be laughed at? Lord Froth. O foy, don't misapprehend me : I don't say so; for I often smile at your conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming a man of quality, than to laugh; 'tis such a vulgar expression of the passion! every body can laugh. Then, especially, to laugh at the jest of an inferior person, or when any body else of the same quality does not laugh with one. Ridiculous! to be pleased with what pleases the crowd! Now, when I laugh, I always laugh alone. Brisk. I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests, 'egad, ha, ha, ha! Lord Froth. He, he, I swear though! your railiery provokes me to a smile. Brisk. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you shew them. Lord Froth. He, he, he! I swear that's so very pretty, I can't forbear. Lord Touch. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire to the ladies, and drink a dish of tea to settle our heads. Sir Paul. With all my heart.-Mr. Brisk, you'll come to us--or call to me when you joke—I'll be ready to laugh incontinently. [Exeunt Lord ТovсH. and Sir PAUL. Mel. But does your lordship never see com medies? Lord Froth. O yes, sometimes; but I never laugh. Mel. No! Lord Froth. Oh no-never laugh, indeed, sir. Care. No! Why, what d'ye go there for? Lord Froth. To distinguish myself from the commonalty, and mortify the poets;-the fellows grow so conceited, when any of their foolish wit prevails upon the side-boxes.-I swear-he, he, he! I have often constrained my inclinations to laugh—he, he, he! to avoid giving them en couragement. Mel. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as well as malicious to them. Lord Froth. I confess I did myself some vio Sir Paul. Were you, son? Gadsbud, much better as it is-Good, strange! I swear I'm almost tipsy t'other bottle would have been too powerful for me as sure as can be it would.-lence at first, but now I think I have conquered We wanted your company, but Mr. Brisk-it. where is he? I swear and vow he's a most face Brisk. Let me perish, my lord, but there is something very particular in the humour; 'tis true, it makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some friends of mine that write; but 'egad, I love to be malicious.-Nay, deuce take me, there's wit in't, too—and wit must be foiled by wit; cut a diamond with a diamond; no other way, 'egad. Lord Froth. Oh, I thought you would not be long before you found out the wit. Care. Wit! In what? Where the devil's the wit in not laughing, when a man has a mind to't? Brisk. O lord, why, can't you find it out?Why, there 'tis, in the not laughing-Don't | you apprehend me?-My lord, Careless is a very honest fellow; but hark ye-you understand me, somewhat heavy, a little shallow, or so.Why, I'll tell you now; suppose, now, you come up to meNay, pr'ythee, Careless, be instructed. Suppose, as I was saying, you come up to me, holding your sides, and laughing, as if you would-Well-I look grave, and ask the cause of this immoderate mirth-You laugh on still, and are not able to tell me▬▬▬▬▬ Still I look grave, not so much as smile. Care. Smile, no; what the devil should you smile at, when you suppose I can't tell you? Brisk. Pshaw, pshaw, pry'thee don't interrupt me.-But I tell you, you shall tell me at last But it shall be a great while first. Care. Well; but pr'ythee don't let it be a great while, because I long to have it over. Brisk. Well, then, you tell me some good jest, or very witty thing, laughing all the while as if you were ready to die and I hear it, and look thus. Would not you be disappointed? Care. No for if it were a witty thing, I should not expect you to understand it. Lord Froth. O foy, Mr. Careless, all the world allows Mr. Brisk to have wit; my wife says he has a great deal. I hope you think her a judge. Brisk. Pooh, my lord, his voice goes for nothing. I can't tell how to make him apprehend. -Take it t'other way. Suppose I say a witty thing to you? Care. Then I shall be disappointed, indeed. Mel. Let him alone, Brisk; he is obstinately bent not to be instructed. Brisk. I'm sorry for him, the deuce take me. Mel. Shall we go to the ladies, my lord? Lord Froth. With all my heart;- -methinks we are a solitude without them. Mel. Or, what say you to another bottle of champagne ? Lord Froth. O, for the universe, not a drop more, I beseech you. Oh, intemperate! I have a flushing in my face already. Enter Lady ToUCHWOOD and MASKWELL. Lady Touch. I'll hear no more- -Y'are false and ungrateful; come, I know you false. Mask. I have been frail, I confess, madam, for your ladyship's service. I Lady Touch. That I should trust a man, whom had known betray his friend! Mask. What friend have I betrayed? or to whom? Lady Touch. Your fond friend Mellefont, and to me- -Can you deny it? Mask. I do not. Lady Touch. Have you not wronged my Lord, who has been a father to you in your wants, and given you being? Have you not wronged him in the highest manner, in his bed? Mask. With your ladyship's help, and for your service, as I told you before. I cannot deny that, neither. Any thing more, madam ? Lady Touch. More! audacious villain. Oh, what's more is most my shame-Have you not dishonoured me? Mask. No, that I deny: for I never told in all my life; so that accusation's answeredOn to the next. Lady Touch. Death! do you daily with my passion? Insolent devil! But have a careprovoke me not; for, by the eternal fire, you shall not escape my vengeance! Calm villain! how unconcerned he stands, confessing treachery and ingratitude! Is there a vice more black!— Oh, I have excuses, thousands, for my faults: fire in my temper; passions in my soul, apt to every provocation; oppressed, at once, with love and with despair: but a sedate, a thinking villain, whose black blood runs temperately bad, what excuse can clear? Mask. Will you be in temper, madam? I would not talk not to be heard. I have been [She walks about disordered.] a very great rogue for your sake, and you reproach me with it; I am ready to be a rogue still, to do you service; and you are flinging conscience and honour in my face, to rebate my inclinations. How am I to behave myself? You know I am your creature, my life and fortune in your power; to disoblige you brings me certain ruin, Allow it, I would betray you, I would not be a traitor to myself I do not pretend to honesty, because you know I am a rascal: but I would convince you, from the necessity of my being firm to you. [Takes out a pocket glass, and looks in it. Brisk, Let me see, let me see, my lord! I Lady Touch. Necessity, impudence! Can no broke my glass that was in the lid of my snuff-gratitude incline you, no obligations touch you? box. Hum! Deuce take me, I have encouraged Were you not in the nature of a servant, and a pimple here too. [Takes the glass, and looks. have not I, in effect, made you lord of all, of me, Lord Froth. Then you must mortify him with and of my lord? Where is that humble love, the 172 BRITISH DRAMA. languishing, that adoration, which once was paid me, and everlastingly engaged? Mask. Fixed, rooted in my heart, whence nothing can remove them; yet you Lady Touch. Yet, what yet? Mask. Nay, misconceive me not, madam, when I say I have had a generous and faithful passion, which you had never favoured but through revenge and policy. Lady Touch. Ha! Nay, how can you yourself, in open hours of love, have told me. Why should you deny it? you? Is not all this present heat owing to the same fire? Do you not love him still? How have I this day offended you, but in not breaking off ere to-morrow, -had you but patience. his match with Cynthia? which, shall be done Lady Touch. How! what said you, Maskwell? Another caprice to unwind my temper? Mask. By Heaven, no! I am your slave, the slave of all your pleasures; and will not rest till I have given you peace, would you suffer me. Lady Touch. Oh, Maskwell! in vain do I disguise me from thee: thou knowest me, knowest my soul-married to-morrow! Despair strikes me! Yet my soul knows I hate him, too: let him but once be mine Mask. Look you, madam, we are alone. Pray contain yourself, and hear me. You know you loved your nephew, when I first sighed for you; I quickly found it; an argument that I loved: for with that art you veiled your passion, 'twas imperceptible to all but jealous eyes. This discovery made me bold, I confess it; for, by it, I thought you in my power. Your nephew's scorn of you added to my hopes; I watched the occasion, and took you, just repulsed by him, warm at once with love and indignation; your disposicious tion, my arguments, and happy opportunity, accomplished my design; I prest the yielding minute, and was blest. How I have loved you since, words have not shewn; then, how should words express? Mask. Compose yourself, you shall possess and ruin him, too-Will that please you? Lady Touch. How, how? thou dear, thou previllain, how? Mask. You have already been tampering with my Lady Plyant. Lady Touch. I have; she is ready for any impression I think fit. Mask. She must be thoroughly persuaded that -And Mellefont loves her. Lady Touch. Well, mollifying devil!Lady Touch. She is so credulous that way nahave I not met your love? Mask. Your zeal, I grant, was ardent, but mis-turally, and likes him so well, that she will beplaced; there was revenge in view; that woman's lieve it faster than I can persuade her. But I idol had defiled the temple of the god, and love don't see what you can propose from such a was made a mock-worship—A son and heir trifling design; for her first conversing with Melwould have edged young Mellefont upon the lefont will convince her of the contrary. brink of ruin, and left him none but you to catch at for prevention. Lady Touch. Again provoke me! Do you wind me like a larum, only to rouse my stilled soul for your diversion? Confusion! Mask. Nay, madam, I am gone, if you relapse SCENE 1. Mask. I know it-I don't depend upon it- One minute gives invention to destroy, ACT II. Enter Lady FROTH and CYNTHIA, Lady Froth. I could not sleep; I did not sleep Cyn. Prodigious! I wonder want of sleep, and Lady Froth. O my dear Cynthia, you must Cyn. How, pray, madam? Lady Froth. O, I writ, writ abundantly- Cyn. Write, what? Lady Froth. Songs, elegies, satires, encomiums, Lady Froth. O inconsistent! in love, and not write! If my lord and I had been both of your temper, we had never come together bless me! what a sad thing would that have been, if my lord and I should never have met! Cyn. Then, neither my lord nor you would ever have met with your match, on my con science. Lady Froth. O' my conscience no more we Lord should; thou sayʼst right—for sure my Froth is as fine a gentleman, and as much a man of quality! Ah! nothing at all of the common air- -I think I may say he wants nothing but a blue ribband and a star, to make him shine the | very phosphorus of our hemisphere. Do you understand those two hard words? If you don't, I'll explain them to you. Cyn. Yes, yes, madam, I am not so ignorantAt least I won't own it, to be troubled with your instructions. [Aside. Lady Froth. Nay, I beg your pardon; but being derived from the Greek, I thought you might have escaped the etymology-But I am the more amazed, to find you a woman of letters, and not write! Bless me! how can Mellefont believe you love him? Cyn. Why, faith, madam, he, that won't take my word, shall never have it under my hand. Lady Froth. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but methinks he wants a manner. Cyn. A manner! What's that, madam? Lady Froth. Some distinguishing quality; as, for example, the bel air or brillant of Mr Brisk; the solemnity, yet complaisance of my lord; or something of his own that should look a little je ne sçai quoi; he is too much a mediocrity, in my mind. Cyn. He does not indeed affect either pertness or formality, for which I like him- -Here be comes. Enter Lord FROTH, MELLEFONT, and BRISK. Impertinent creature! I could almost be angry with her now. [Aside. Lady Froth. My lord, I have been telling Cynthia how much I have been in love with you; I swear I have; I'm not ashamed to own it now. Ah! it makes my heart leap; I vow I sigh when I think on't:-My dear lord! ha, ha, ha, do you remember, my lord? [Squeezes him by the hand, looks kindly on him, sighs, and then laughs out.] Lord Froth. Pleasant creature! Perfectly well. Ah! that look! Ay, there it is; who could resist!Twas so my heart was made a captive at first, and ever since it has been in love with happy slavery. Lady Froth. O that tongue, that dear deceitful tongue! that charming softness in your mien and your expression! and then your bow! Good, my lord, bow as you did when I gave you my picture; here, suppose this my picture [Gives him a pocket glass.]-Pray mind, my lord; ah! he bows charmingly. Nay, my lord, you shan't kiss it so much; I shall grow jealous, I vow now. [He bows profoundly low, then kisses the glass.] Lord Froth. I saw myself there, and kissed it for your sake. Lady Froth. Ah! gallantry to the last degree -Mr Brisk, you are a judge; was ever any thing so well bred as my lord? Brisk. Never any thing but your ladyship, let me perish. Lady Froth. O prettily turned again; let me die but you have a great deal of wit-Mr. Mellefont, don't you think Mr Brisk has a world of wit? Mel. O yes, madam. Lady Froth. More wit than any body. Brisk. I am everlastingly your humble servant, deuce take me, madam. Lord Froth. Don't you think us a happy couple? Cyn. I vow, my lord, I think you the happiest couple in the world. Lord Froth. I hope Mellefont will make a good husband, too. Cyn. 'Tis my interest to believe he will, my lord. Lord Froth. D'ye think he'll love you as well as I do my wife? I am afraid not. Cyn. I believe he'll love me better. Lord Froth. Heavens! that can never be; but why do you think so? Cyn. Because he has not so much reason to be fond of himself. Lord Froth. O your humble servant for that, dear madam. Well, Mellefont, you'll be a happy creature. Mel. Ay, my lord, I shall have the same rea son for my happiness that your lordship has; I shall think myself happy. Lord Froth. Ah, that's all. Brisk. [To Lady FROTH.] Your ladyship is in the right; but, 'egad, I'm wholly turned into satire. I confess I write but seldom, but when I do—keen Iambics, 'egad. But my lord was telling me, your ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem. Lady Froth. Did my lord tell you? Yes, I vow, and the subject is my lord's love to me. And what do you think I call it? I dare swear yon won't guess- -The Syllabub! ha, ha, ba! Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, 'egad; ha, ha, ha, ha! deuce take me, very à propos, and surprizing, ha, ha, ha! Lady Froth. He, he! ay, is not it?-And then I call my lord Spumosa; and myself-what do ye think I call myself? Brisk. Lactilla, may be-'Egad I cannot tell. Lady Froth, Biddy, that's all; just my own name. Brisk. Biddy! 'Egad very pretty-Deuce take me, if your ladyship has not the art of surprizing the most naturally in the world-I hope you'll make me happy in communicating the poem. Lady Froth. O, you must be my confident; I must ask your advice. Brisk. I'm your humble servant, let me perish -I presume your ladyship has read Bossu? Lady Froth. O yes, and Rapine, and Dacier upon Aristotle and Horace.-My lord, you must not be jealous! I'm communicating all to Mr Brisk. |