young gentleman, and don't suffer magpies to come near my cherries. Bel. Was it your wife, sir? Moe. What's that to you, sir? Suppose it were my grandmother. Bel. I would not dare to offend her.-Permit me to say a word in private to you. [Exeunt MooDy and BELVILLE. Spark. Now old surly is gone, tell me Harcourt, if thou likest her as well as ever.-My dear, don't look down; I should hate to have a wife of mine out of countenance at any thing. Ali. For shame, Mr. Sparkish! Spark. Tell me, I say, Harcourt, how dost like her? Thou hast stared upon her enough to resolve me. Har. So infinitely well, that I could wish I had a mistress too, that might differ from her in nothing but her love and engagement to you. Ali. Sir, Mr. Sparkish has often told me that his acquaintance were all wits and railers; and now I find it. Spark. No, by the universe, madam, he does not rally now; you may believe him. I do assure you he is the honestest, worthiest, truest-hearted gentleman; a man of such perfect honour, he would say nothing to a lady he does not mean. Har. Sir, you are so beyond expectation obliging, that Spark. Nay, 'egad, I am sure you do admire her extremely; I see it in your eyes.-He does admire you, madam; he has told me so a thousand and a thousand times; have you not, Harcourt? You do admire her; by the world, you do-don't you? Har. Yes, above the world, or the most glorious part of it, her whole sex; and till now, I never thought I should have envied you or any man about to marry; but you have the best excuse to marry I ever knew. Ali. Nay, now, sir, I am satisfied you are of the society of the wits and railers, since you cannot spare your friend, even when he is most civil to you; but the surest sign is, you are an enemy to marriage, the common butt of every railer. Har. Truly, madam, I was never any enemy to marriage till now, because marriage was never an enemy to me before. Ali. But why, sir, is marriage an enemy to you now? Because it robs you of your friend here? For you look upon a friend married as one gone into a monastery, that is dead to the world. Har. 'Tis indeed, because you marry him: I see, madam, you can guess my meaning. I do confess heartily and openly, I wish it were in my power to break the match; by heavens I would. Spark. Poor Frank! Ali. Would you be so unkind to me? Har. No, no; 'tis not because I would be unkind Moo. How, sir! If you are not concernea for the honour of a wife, I am for that of a sister. Be a pander to your own wife, bring men to her, let 'em make love before your face, thrust them into a corner together, then leave 'em in private! Is this your town wit and conduct? Spark. Ha, ha, ha! a silly, wise rogue would make one laugh more than a stark fool, ha, ha, ha! I shall burst. Nay, you shall not disturb 'em; I'll vex thee by the world. What have you done with Belville? [Struggles with MOODY to keep him from HARCOURT and ALITHEA.] Moo, Shewn him the way out of my house, as you should to that gentleman. Spark. Nay, but pr'ythee let me reason with thee. [Talks apart with MOODY.] Ali. The writings are drawn, sir-settlements made: 'tis too late, sir, and past all revocation. Har. Then so is my death. Ali. I would not be unjust to him. Ali. I have no obligations to you. Ali. I had his before. Har. You never had it: he wants, you see, jealousy, the only infallible sign of it. Ali. Love proceeds from esteem: he cannot distrust my virtue; besides, he loves me, or he would not marry me. Har. Marrying you is no more a sign of his love, than bribing your woman, that he may marry you is a sign of his generosity. But if you take marriage for a sign of love, take it from me immediately. Ali. No, now you have put a scruple in my head. -But, in short, sir, to end our dispute, I must marry him; my reputation would suffer in the world else. Har. No: if you do marry him, with your pardon, madam, your reputation must suffer in the world. Ali. Nay, now you are rude, sir. Mr. Sparkish, pray come hither, your friend here is very troublesome and very loving. Har. Hold, hold!" [Aside to ALITHEA. Moo. D'ye? hear that, senseless puppy? Spark. Why, d'ye think I'll seem jealous, like a country bumpkin? Moo. No; rather be dishonour'd, like a credulous driveller. [They retire. Hur. Madam, you would not have been so little generous as to have told him? Ali. Yes, since you could be so little generous as to wrong him. Har. Wrong him! no man can do it; he's beneath an injury: a bubble, a coward, a senseless idiot! a wretch, so contemptible to all the world but you, that Ali. Hold, do not rail at him; for, since he is like to be my husband, I am resolved to like him: 1 Spark, How Mi; hat if he does mil at me. but in jest, I warrant: what we wrs to fir de anstaer, and never take any notice of it. Lucy. What ails you, Miss Peggy? You are Au. He spoke so scurrilonaty of you, I had no pa- ' grown quite melancholy. tence to hear num. Mo. And he was in the right sa't. Ax. Beautes, he has been making love to me. Min. And I mut the foi en. Har. Trie: d-d teil-tale woman! Spark, Pina to shew his parts; we wis rail and make love often, but to shew our parts as we have no affections, so we have an mabée. WeMon. Dit you ever hear such an ass ? Feg. "Would it not make any one melan-bly to see your mistress, Alithea, go every day fontering abat abroad to plays and assembles, ani I knʊE not what, whilst I must stay at home, like a post, lonely, sullen bird in a cage? Lucy Dear Miss Peggy. I thought you chose to be confined: I imagined that you had been bred so young to the cage, that you had no pleasure in fyIng about, and hopping in the open air, as other Ale. He said you were a wretch, below an injury, young ladies who go a little wild about this town. Spark. Pina! A. A common babble. Spark. Pina! Ali. A coward! Spark. Psha! psha! A. A senseless, drivelling idiot. Moo. True, true, true; al. true. Spark. How, did he disparage my parts? Nay then, my honour's concerned. I can't put up that Brother, help me to kill him. [Offers to draw. Ali. Hold hold! Moo. If Harcourt would but kill Sparkish, and run away with my sister, I should be rid of three! plagues at once. Peg. Nay, I confess I was quiet enough, till somebody told me what pure lives the London ladies lead, with their dancing-meetings, and junketings, and | dress'd every day in their best gowns; and, I warrant you, play at nine-pins every day in the week, so they do. Lucy. To be sure, miss, you will lead a better Life when join'd in holy wedlock with your sweettemper'd guardian, the cheerful Mr. Moody, Peg. I can't lead a worse, that's one good thing; but I must make the best of a bad market, for I can't marry nobody else. Lury. How so, miss? That's very strange. Ali. Indeed, to tell the truth, the gentleman said, 'so we are as good as married, you know, after all, that what he spoke was but out of friend ship to you. Spark How! say I am a fool,-that is, no wit,out of friendship to me! Ali, Yes, to try whether I was concerned enough for you; and made love to me only to be satisfied of my virtue, for your sake. [Aride. Har. Kind, however! Spark. Nay, if it were so, my dear rogue, I ask thee pardon; but why would not you tell me so, 'faith? Har. Because I did not think on't, 'faith. Spark. Come, Belville is gone away: Harcourt, let's be gone to the new play; come, madam. Ali. I will not go, if you intend to leave me alone in the box, and run all about the house, as you used to do. Spark. Psha! I'll leave Harcourt with you in the box, to entertain you, and that's as good. If I sat in the box, I should be thought no critic. I must run about, my dear, and abuse the author. Come away, Harcourt, lead her down. B'ye, brother. [Exeunt HARCOURT, SPARKISH, and ALITHEA. Moo. B'ye, driveller. Well, go thy ways, for the flower of the true town fops; such as spend their estates before they come to 'em, and are cuckolds before they're married. But let me go look to my freehold. Enter a Countryman. Country. Master, your worship s servant. Here is the lawyer, counsellor gentleman, with a green bag full of papers, come again, and would be glad to speak to you. Lucy. I know it! Heaven forbid, miss! Lucy. Don't sigh, Miss Peggy; if that young gentleman, who was here just now, would take pity on me, I'd throw such a contract as your's behind the fire. Peg. Lord bless us, how you talk! Lucy. Young Mr. Belville would make you talk otherwise, if you knew him. Peg. Mr. Belville! Where is he? When did you see him? You have undone me, Lucy. Where was he? Did he say anything? Lucy. Say anything! very little indeed; he's quite distracted, poor young creature! He was taiking with your guardian just now. Peg. The deuce he was! but where was it, and when was it? Lucy. In this house, five minutes ago, when your guardian turn'd you into your chamber, for fear of your being seen. Peg. I knew something was the matter, I was in such a fluster. But what did he say to my bud? Lucy. What do you call him bud for? Bud means husband, and he is not your husband yet, and I h pe never will be; and, if he were my husband, I'd bui him, a surly, unreasonable beast! Peg. I'd call him any names, to keep him in good humour; if he'd let me marry anybody else (which I can't do), I'd call him husband as long as he lived. But what said Mr. Belville to him? Lucy. I don't know what he said to him, but I'll tell you what he said to me, with a sigh, and his hand upon his breast as he went out of the door"If you ever were in love, young gentlewoman meaning me), and can pity a most faithful lover, ell the dear object of my affections" Peg. Meaning me, Lucy? Lucy. Yes, you, to be sure." Tell the dear object of my affections, I live but upon the hopes that she is not married; and when those hopes leave me, she knows the rest;" then he cast up his eyes thus, -gnash d his teeth-struck his forehead;-would have spoke again, but he could not,-fetch'd a deep sigh, and vanish'd. Peg. That is really very fine: I am sure it makes my heart sink within me, and brings tears into my eyes. O, he's a charming, sweet-But hush, hush! I hear my husband. Lucy. Don't call him husband. Go into the Park this evening, if you can. Peg. Mum, mum. Enter MOODY. Moo. Come, what's here to do? you are putting the town pleasures in her head, and setting her a longing. Lucy. Yes, after nine-pins; you suffer none to give her those longings but yourself. Moo. Come, Mrs. Flippant, good precepts are lost when bad examples are still before us: the liberty your mistress takes abroad makes her hanker after it, and out of humour at home. Poor wretch! she desired not to come to London; I would bring her. Lucy. O yes, you surfeit her with pleasures. Moo. She has been this fortnight in town, and never desired, till this afternoon, to go abroad. Lucy. Was she not at the play yesterday? Moo. Yes, but she never ask'd me; I was myself the cause of her going. Lucy. Then if she ask you again, you are the cause of her asking, and not my mistress. Moo. Well, next week I shall be rid of you all, rid of this town, and my dreadful apprehensions. Come, be not melancholy, for thou shalt go into the Country very soon, dearest. Peg. Pish what d'ye tell me of the country for? Moo. O, if that be all-what ails my dearest? Peg. Truly, I don't know; but I have not been well since you told me there was a gallant at the play in love with me. Moo. Ha! Lucy. That's my mistress too. Moo. Nay, if you are not well, but are so concern'd, because a raking fellow chanced to me, and say he liked you, you'll make me sick too. Peg. Of what sickness? Moo. O, of that which is worse than the plague; jealousy! Peg. Pish! you jeer: I'm sure there's no such disease in your receipt-book at home. Moo. No, you never met with it, poor innocent. Peg. Well, but pray, bud, let's go to a play tonight. Moo. No, no; no more plays. But why are you so eager to see a play? Peg. Faith, dear, not that I care one pin for their talk there; but I like to look upon the player-men, and would see, if I could, the gallant you say loves me; that's all, dear bud. Moo. Is that all, dear bud? Lucy. [Aside.] This proceeds from my mistress's example. Peg. Let's go abroad, however, dear bud, if we don't go to the play. Moo. Come, have a little patience, and thou shalt go into the country next week. Peg. Therefore I would first see some sights to tell my neighbours of: nay, I will go abroad, that's once. Moo. What, you have put this into her head? [To Lucy. Lucy. Heaven defend me, what suspicions! somebody has put more things into your head than you ought to have. Moo. Your tongue runs too glibly, madam; and you have lived too long with a London lady, to be a proper companion for innocence. I am not overfond of you, mistress. Lucy. There's no love lost between us. Moo. You admitted those gentlemen into the house, when I said I would not be at home; and there was the young fellow too who behaved so indecent to my wife at the tavern window. Lucy. Because you would not let him see your handsome wife out of your lodgings. Peg. Why, O lord, did the gentleman come hither to see me indeed? Moo. No, no. You are not the cause of that d-d question, too? [To LUCY. Peg. Come, pray, bud, let's go abroad before 'tis late; for I will go, that's flat and plain-only into the Park. Moo. So the obstinacy already of the town wife; and I must, while she's here, humour her like one. [Aside.] How shall we do, that she may not be seen or known? Lucy. Muffle her up with a bonnet and cloak, and I'll go with her to avoid suspicion. Moo. No, no, I am obliged to you for your kindness, but she shan't stir without me. Lucy. What will you do then? Peg. What, shall we go? I am sick with staying at home: if I don't walk in the Park, I'll do nothing that I'm bid for a week. I won't be mop'd. Lucy. O, she has a charming spirit! I could stand your friend now, and would, if you had ever a civil word to give me. [To MOODY. Moo. I'll give thee a better thing; I'll give thee a guinea for thy good advice, if I like it; and I can have the best of the college for the same money. Lucy. I despise a bribe: when I am your friend, it shall be without fee or reward. Peg. Don't be long then, for I will go out. Lucy. The tailor brought home last night the clothes you intend for a present to your godson in the country. Peg. You must not tell that, Lucy. Lucy. But I will, madam. When you were with your lawyers last night, Miss Peggy, to divert me and herself, put 'em on, and they fitted her to a hair. Moo. Thank you, thank you, Lucy, 'tis the luckiest thought! Go this moment, Peggy, into your chamber, and put 'em on again, and you shall walk with me into the Park, as my godson. Well thought of, Lucy; I shall love you for ever for this. Peg. And so shall I too, Lucy: I'll put 'em on directly. [Going.] I suppose, bud, I must keep on my petticoats, for fear of showing my legs. Moo. No, no, you fool! never mind your legs. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-The Park. Enter BELVILLE and HARCOUrt. You put the actors and audience into confusion, and all your friends out of countenance. Spark. So much the better: I love confusion, and to see folks out of countenance: I was in tip-top spirits, faith, and said a thousand good things. Bel. But I thought you had gone to plays to laugh at the poet's good things, and not at your own. Bel. And the moment Moody left me, I took an Spark. Your servant, sir; no, I thank you 'Gai opportunity of conveying some tender sentiments I go to a play, as to a country treat: I carry my through Lucy to Miss Peggy; and here I am, in ex-own wine to one, and my own wit to t'other, or e se pectation of seeing my country goddess. I'm sure I should not be merry at either; and the reason why we are so often louder than the players is, because we hate authors damnably. Har. And so to blind Moody, and take him off the scent of your passion for this girl, and at the same time to give me an opportunity with Sparkish's mistress (and of which I have made the most), you hinted to him with a grave melancholy face, that you were dying for his sister. Gad-a-mercy, nephew! I will back thy modesty against any other in the three kingdoms: it will do, Dick. Bel. What could I do, uncle? It was my last stake, and I play'd for a great deal. Har. You mistake me, Dick; I don't say you could do better; I only can't account for your modesty's doing so much: you have done such wonders, that I, who am rather bold than sheepish, have not yet ceased wondering at you. But do you think that you imposed upon him? Bel. Faith, I can't say; he said very little, grumbled much, shook his head, and shewed me the door. But what success have you had with Alithea ? Har. Just enough to have a glimmering of hope, without having light enough to see an inch before my nose. This day will produce something:Alithea is a woman of great honour, and will sacrifice her happiness to it, unless Sparkish's absurdity stands my friend, and does everything that the fates ought to do for me. Bel. Yonder comes the prince of coxcombs, and if your mistress and mine should, by chance, be tripping this way, this fellow will spoil sport: let us avoid him; you can't cheat him before his face. Har. But I can though, thanks to my wit, and his want of it. Bel. But you cannot come near his mistress but in his company. Har. Still the better for me, nephew, for fools are most easily cheated, when they themselves are accessaries; and he is to be bubbled of his mistress, or of his money (the common mistress,) by keeping him company. Enter SPARKISH. Spark. Who's that that is to be bubbled? Faith, let me snack; I han't met with a bubble since Christmas. 'Gad, I think bubbles, like their brother woodcocks, go out with the cold weather. Har. He did not hear all, I hope. [Apart to BEL. Spark. Come, you bubbling rogues, you, where do we sup? O, Harcourt, my mistress tells me you have made love-fierce love to her last night, all the play long-ha, ha, ha!—but I Ha. I make love to her? Spark. Nay, I forgive thee, and I know her; but I am sure I know myself. Bel. Do you, sir? Then you are the wisest man in the world, and I honour you as such. [Bous. Spark. O, your servant, sir: you are at your raillery, are you? You can't oblige me more; I'm your man: he'll meet with his match. Ha! Harcourt! did not you hear me laugh prodigiously at the play last night? Hares, and was very much disturb'd at it. Bel. But why should you hate the poor rogues? You have too much wit, and despise writing, I'm sure. Spark. O yes, I despise writing but women, women, that make men do all foolish things, ALS 'em write songs too. Everybody does it; 'tis e as common with lovers, as playing with fans: and you can no more help rhyming to your Phillis, thas drinking to your Phillis. Har. But the poets damn'd your songs, did they? Spark. D-n the poets! they turn'd them inta burlesque, as they call it: that burlesque is a bocuspocus trick they have got, which, by the virtue of hiccius-doccius, topsy-turvy, they make a clever witty thing absolute nonsense. Do you know, Harcourt, that they ridiculed my last song! Twang, I twang," the best I ever wrote. Har. That may be, and be very easily ridiculed for all that. Bel. Favour me with it, sir; I never heard it. begin. Spark. I never am ask'd twice, and so have at you. SONG. Tell me not of the roses and lilies Which tinge the fair cheek of your Phillis; Let all whining lovers go hang; Tip your arrow with wit, And it comes to my heart with a twang, twang, Re-enter HARCourt and BELVILLE. What the deuce did you go away for? Har. Your mistress is coming. Spark. The devil she is! O hide, hide me from her! [Hides behind HARCO:ar. Har. She sees you. Spark. But I will not see her; for I'm engaged and at this instant. [Looking at hu wa k Har. Pray first take me, and reconcile me ther Spark. Another time; faith, it is the lany, and one cannot make excuses to a woman. Bel. You have need of 'em, I believe. Enter MOODY PEGGY, in boy's clothes, and SCENE I.] Peg. La! what a sweet delightful place this is! Moo. Come along, say, don't stare about you so; you'll betray yourself. [Exit, pulling PEGGY, ALITHEA following. Har. He does not know us. Bel. Or he won't know us. Spark. So much the better. [Exit, BELVILLE after them. Har. Who is that pretty youth with him, Sparkish? Spark. Some relation of Peggy's, I suppose; for he is something like her in face and gawkiness. Re-enter BELVILLE. Bel. By all my hopes, uncle, Peggy in boy's clothes. I am all over agitation. [part to HARCOURT.] Har Be quiet, or you'll spoil all. They return. -Alithea has seen you, Sparkish, and will be angry if you don't go to her: besides, I would fain be reconciled to her, which none but you can do, my dear friend. Spark. Well, that's a better reason, dear friend: I would not go near her now for her's or my own sake; but I can deny you nothing: for though I have known thee a great while, never go, if I do not love thee as well as a new acquaintance. Har. I am obliged to you, indeed, my dear friend; I would be well with her, only to be well with thee still; for these ties to wives usually dissolve all ties to friends. his honour alone, for my sake and his. He has no honour. Spark. How's that? Har. But what my dear friend can guard himself. Ali. You astonish me, sir, with want of jealousy. Har. Come, madam, you see you strive in vain to make him jealous of me: my dear friend is the kindest creature in the world to me. Spark. Poor fellow! Har. But his kindness only is not enough for me, without your favour, your good opinion, dear madam: 'tis that must perfect my happiness. Good gentleman, he believes all I say: 'would you would do so!-Jealous of me! I would not wrong him nor you for the world. Spark. Look you there: hear him, hear him, and not walk away so; come back again. [ALITHEA walks carelessly to and fro.] Har. I love you, madam, so Spark. How's that? Nay, now you begin to go too far indeed. I Har. So much, I confess I say I love you, that would not have you miserable, and cast yourself away upon so unworthy and inconsiderable a thing as what you see here. [Claps his hand on his breast, and points to SPARKISH.] Spark. No, faith, I believe thou wouldst not; now his meaning is plain; but I knew before thou wouldst not wrong me nor her. Spark. But they shan't though. Come along. [They retire. Re-enter MOODY, PEGGY, and ALITHEA. Moo. Sister, if you will not go, we must leave Har. No, no, heavens forbid the glory of her sex you. To ALITHEA.] The fool, her gallant, and should fall so low as into the embraces of such a she will muster up all the young saunterers of this contemptible wretch, the least of mankindplace. What a swarm of cuckolds and cuckold-my dear friend here-I injure him. [Embraces makers are here! I begin to be uneasy. [Aside.] SPARKISH.] Come, let's be gone, Peggy. Peg. Don't you believe that; I han't half my belly-full of sights yet. Moo. Then walk this way. Peg. Lord, what a power of fine folks are here!And Mr. Belville, as I hope to be married. [Aside. Moo. Come along; what are you muttering at? Peg. There's the young gentleman there, you were so angry about, that's in love with me. Moo. No, no; he's a dangler after your sister, or pretends to be; but they are all bad alike. Come along, I say. [MOODY pulls PEGGY away. Exeunt PEGGY and MOODY, BELVILLE following. SPARKISH, COURT, and ALITHEA come forward. Spark. Come, dear madam, for my sake you shall be reconciled to him. Ali. Very well. Spark. No, no, dear friend, I knew it: madam, you see he will rather wrong himself than me in giving himself such names. Ali. Do not you understand him yet? Spark. Come, come, vou shall stay till he has saluted you Re-enter MOODY and PEGGY, BELVILLE at a distance. Meo. What, invite your wife to kiss aen? Monstrous! Are you not ashamed? Spark. Are you not ashamed that I should have HAR-more confidence in the chastity of your family than you have? You must not teach me: I am a man of honour, sir, though I am frank and free; I am frank, sir Al. For your sake I hate him. Har. That's something too cruel, madam, to hate me for his sake. Spark. Ay, indeed, madam, too cruel to me, to hate my friend for my sake. Ali. I hate him because he is your enemy; and vou ought to hate him too for making love to me, if you love me. Spark. That's a good one! I hate a man for loving you? If he did love you, 'tis but what he can't help; and 'tis your fault, not his, if he admires you. Ali. Is it for your honour, or mine, to suffer a man to make love to me, who am to marry you to morrow? Har. But why, dearest madam, will you be more concerned for his honour than he is himself? Let Moo. Very frank, sir, to share your wife with your friends.-You seem to be angry, and yet won't go. [To ALITHEA. Ali. No impertinence shall drive me away. Moo. Because you like it.-But you ought to blush [To SPARKISH. at exposing your wife as you do. Spark. What then? It may be I have a pleasure in't as I have to show fine clothes at a play-house the first day, and count money before poor rogues. Moo. He that shows his wife or money, will be in danger of having them borrowed sometimes. Spark. I love to be envied, and would not marry a wife that I alone could love. Loving alone is as dull as eating aloue; and so good night, for I must to Whitehall. Madam, I hope you are now reconciled to my friend; and so I wish you a good night, 3 R2 |