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The Rover; or, the Banish'd Cavaliers. Part II.
Aphra Behn
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The Rover;
or,
the Banish'd Cavaliers.
by Aphra Behn (1677)
1677
PART II.
PROLOGUE,
Spoken by Mr. Smith.
IN vain we labour to reform the Stage,
Poets have caught too the Disease o' th' Age,
That Pest, of not being quiet when they're well,
That restless Fever, in the Brethren, Zeal;
In publick Spirits call'd, Good o'th' Commonweal.
Some for this Faction cry, others for that,
The pious Mobile for they know not what:
So tho by different ways the Fever seize,
In all 'tis one and the same mad Disease.
Our Author tool as all new Zealots do,
Full of Conceit and Contradiction too,
'Cause the first Project took, is now so vain,
T' attempt to play the old Game o'er again:
The Scene is only chang'd; for who wou'd lay
A Plot, so hopeful, just the same dull way?
Poets, like Statesmen, with a little change,
Pass off old Politicks for new and strange;
Tho the few Men of Sense decry't aloud,
The Cheat will pass with the unthinking Croud:
The Rabble 'tis we court, those powerful things,
Whose Voices can impose even Laws on Kings.
A Pox of Sense and Reason, or dull Rules,
Give us an Audience that declares for Fools;
Our Play will stand fair: we've Monsters too,
Which far exceed your City Pope for Show.
Almighty Rabble, 'tis to you this Day
Our humble Author dedicates the Play,
From those who in our lofty Tire sit,
Down to the dull Stage-Cullies of the Pit,
Who have much Money, and but little Wit:
Whose useful Purses, and whose empty Skulls
To private Int'rest make ye Publick Tools;
To work on Projects which the wiser frame,
And of fine Men of Business get the Name.
You who have left caballing here of late,
Imploy'd in matters of a mightier weight;
To you we make our humble Application,
You'd spare some time from your dear new Vocation,
Of drinking deep, then settling the Nation,
To countenance us, whom Commonwealths of old
Did the most politick Diversion hold.
Plays were so useful thought to Government,
That Laws were made for their Establishment;
Howe'er in Schools differing Opinions jar,
Yet all agree i' th' crouded Theatre,
Which none forsook in any Change or War.
That, like their Gods, unviolated stood,
Equally needful to the publick Good.
Throw then, Great Sirs, some vacant hours away,
And your Petitioners shall humbly pray, &c.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
MEN.
Willmore, The Rover, in love with La Nuche, Mr. Smith. Beaumond, the English Ambassador's Nephew, in love with La Nuche, contracted to Ariadne, Mr. Williams. Ned Blunt, an English Country Gentleman, Mr. Underhill. Nicholas Fetherfool, an English Squire, his Friend, Mr. Nokes. Shift, an English Lieutenant,:
Hunt, an Ensign:
Friends and Officers to Willmore,Mr. Wiltshire.
Mr. Richards.
Harlequin, Willmore's Man
Abevile, Page to Beaumond
Don Carlo, an old Grandee, in love with La Nuche, Mr. Norris. Sancho, Bravo to La Nuche.
An old Jew, Guardian to the two Monsters, Mr. Freeman. Porter at the English Ambassador's.
Rag, Boy to Willmore.
Scaramouche.
WOMEN.
Ariadne, the English Ambassador's Daughter-in-law, in love with Willmore, Mrs. Corror. Lucia, her Kinswoman, a Girl, Mrs. Norris. La Nuche, a Spanish Curtezan, in love with the Rover, Mrs. Barry. Petronella Elenora, her Baud, Mrs. Norris. Aurelia, her Woman, Mrs. Crofts. A Woman Giant.
A Dwarf, her Sister.
Footmen, Servants, Musicians, Operators and Spectators.
SCENE, Madrid.
ACT I
Scene I. A Street.
Enter Willmore, Blunt, Fetherfool, and Hunt, two more in
Campain Dresses, Rag the Captain's Boy.
Will. Stay, this is the English Ambassador's. I'll inquire if
Beaumond be return'd from Paris.
Feth. Prithee, dear Captain, no more Delays, unless thou thinkest
he will invite us to Dinner; for this fine thin sharp Air of
Madrid has a most notable Faculty of provoking an Appetite:
Prithee let's to the Ordinary.
Will. I will not stay-
[Knocks, enter a Porter.
-Friend, is the Ambassador's Nephew, Mr. Beaumond, return'd to
Madrid yet? If he be, I would speak with him.
Port. I'll let him know so much.
[Goes in, shuts the door.
Blunt. Why, how now, what's the Door shut upon us?
Feth. And reason, Ned, 'tis Dinner-time in the Ambassador's
Kitchen, and should they let the savoury Steam out, what a world
of Castilians would there be at the Door feeding upon't.- Oh
there's no living in Spain when the Pot's uncover'd.
Blunt. Nay, 'tis a Nation of the finest clean Teeth-
Feth. Teeth! Gad an they use their Swords no oftner, a Scabbard
will last an Age.
Enter Shift from the House.
Will. Honest Lieutenant-
Shift. My noble Captain- Welcome to Madrid. What Mr. Blunt, and my
honoured Friend Nicholas Fetherfool Esq.
Feth. Thy Hand, honest Shift- [They embrace him.
Will. And how, Lieutenant, how stand Affairs in this unsanctify'd
Town?- How does Love's great Artillery, the fair La Nuche, from
whose bright Eyes the little wanton God throws Darts to wound
Mankind?
Shift. Faith, she carries all before her still; undoes her Fellow
-traders in Love's Art: and amongst the Number, old Carlo de
Minalta Segosa pays high for two Nights in a Week.
Will. Hah- Carlo! Death, what a greeting's here! Carlo, the happy
Man! a Dog! a Rascal, gain the bright La Nuche! Oh Fortune!
Cursed blind mistaken Fortune! eternal Friend to Fools!
Fortune! that takes the noble Rate from Man, to place it on her
Idol Interest.
Shift. Why Faith, Captain, I should think her Heart might stand as
fair for you as any, could you be less satirical- but by this
Light, Captain, you return her Raillery a little too roughly.
Will. Her Raillery! By this Hand I had rather be handsomly abus'd
than dully flatter'd; but when she touches on my Poverty, my
honourable Poverty, she presses me too sensibly- for nothing is
so nice as Poverty- But damn her, I'll think of her no more: for
she's a Devil, tho her Form be Angel. Is Beaumond come from
Paris yet?
Shift. He is, I came with him; he's impatient of your Return: I'll
let him know you're here.
[Exit. Shift.
Feth. Why, what a Pox ails the Captain o'th' sudden? He looks as
sullenly as a routed General, or a Lover after hard Service.
Blunt. Oh- something the Lieutenant has told him about a Wench; and
when Cupid's in his Breeches, the Devil's ever in's Head- how
now- What a pox is the matter with you, you look so scurvily
now?- What, is the Gentlewoman otherwise provided? has she
cashier'd ye for want of Pay? or what other dire Mischance?-
hah-
Will. Do not trouble me-
Blunt. Adsheartlikins, but I will, and beat thee too, but I'll know
the Cause. I heard Shift tell thee something about La Nuche, a
Damsel I have often heard thee Fool enough to sigh for.
Will. Confound the mercenary Jilt!
Blunt. Nay, adsheartlikins they are all so; tho I thought you had
been Whore-proof; 'tis enough for us Fools, Country Gentlemen,
Esquires, and Cullies, to miscarry in their amorous Adventures,
you Men of Wit weather all Storms you.
Will. Oh, Sir, you're become a new Man, wise and wary, and can no
more be cozen'd.
Blunt. Not by Woman-kind; and for Man I think my Sword will secure
me. Pox, I thought a two Months absence and a Siege would have
put such Trifles out of thy Head: You do not use to be such a
Miracle of Constancy.
Will. That Absence makes me think of her so much; and all the
Passions thou find'st about me are to the Sex alone. Give me a
Woman, Ned, a fine young amorous Wanton, who would allay this
Fire that makes me rave thus, and thou shouldst find me no
longer particular, but cold as Winter-Nights to this La Nuche:
Yet since I lost my little charming Gipsey, nothing has gone so
near my Heart as this.
Blunt. Ay, there was a Girl, the only she thing that could
reconcile me to the Petticoats again after my Naples Adventure,
when the Quean rob'd and stript me.
Will. Oh name not Hellena! She was a Saint to be ador'd on
Holy-days.
Enter Beaumond.
Beau. Willmore! my careless wild inconstant- how is't, my lucky
Rover? [embracing.
Will. My Life! my Soul! how glad am I to find thee in my Arms
again- and well- When left you Paris? Paris, that City of
Pottage and Crab-Wine swarming with Lacquies and Philies,
whose Government is carried on by most Hands, not most Voices-
And prithee how does Belvile and his Lady?
Beau. I left 'em both in Health at St. Germains.
Will. Faith, I have wisht my self with ye at the old Temple of
Bacchus at St. Clou, to sacrifice a Bottle and a Damsel to his
Deity.
Beau. My constant Place of Worship whilst there, tho for want of
new Saints my Zeal grew something cold, which I was ever fain to
supply with a Bottle, the old Remedy when Phyllis is sullen and
absent.
Will. Now thou talk'st of Phillis, prithee, dear Harry, what
Women hast in store?
Beau. I'll tell thee; but first inform me whom these two Sparks
are.
Will. Egad, and so they are, Child: Salute 'em- They are my
Friends- True Blades, Hal. highly guilty of the royal Crime,
poor and brave, loyal Fugitives.
Beau. I love and honour 'em, Sir, as such- [Bowing to Blunt.
Blunt. Sir, there's neither Love nor Honour lost.
Feth. Sir, I scorn to be behind-hand in Civilities.
Beau. At first sight I find I am much yours, Sir. [To Feth.
Feth. Sir, I love and honour any Man that's a Friend to Captain
Willmore- and therefore I am yours-
Enter Shift.
-Well, honest Lieutenant, how does thy Body?- When shall Ned,
and thou and I, crack a Bisket o'er a Glass of Wine, have a
Slice of Treason and settle the Nation, hah?
Shift. You know, Squire, I am devotedly yours.
[They talk aside.
Beau. Prithee who are these?
Will. Why, the first you saluted is the same Ned Blunt you have
often heard Belvile and I speak of: the other is a Rarity of
another Nature, one Squire Fetherfool of Croydon, a tame Justice
of Peace, who liv'd as innocently as Ale and Food could keep
him, till for a mistaken Kindness to one of the Royal Party, he
lost his Commission, and got the Reputation of a Sufferer: He's
rich, but covetous as an Alderman.
Beau. What a Pox do'st keep 'em Company for, who have neither Wit
enough to divert thee, nor Good-nature enough to serve thee?
Will. Faith, Harry, 'tis true, and if there were no more Charity
than Profit in't, a Man would sooner keep a Cough o'th' Lungs
than be troubled with 'em: but the Rascals have a blind side as
all conceited Coxcombs have, which when I've nothing else to
do, I shall expose to advance our Mirth; the Rogues must be
cozen'd, because they're so positive they never can be so: but
I am now for softer Joys, for Woman, for Woman in abundance-
dear Hal. inform me where I may safely unlade my Heart.
Beau. The same Man still, wild and wanton!
Will. And would not change to be the Catholick King.
Beau. I perceive Marriage has not tam'd you, nor a Wife who had
all the Charms of her Sex.
Will. Ay- she was too good for Mortals. [With a sham Sadness.
Belv. I think thou hadst her but a Month, prithee how dy'd she?
Will. Faith, e'en with a fit of Kindness, poor Soul- she would to
Sea with me, and in a Storm- far from Land, she gave up the
Ghost- 'twas a Loss, but I must bear it with a christian
Fortitude.
Beau. Short Happinesses vanish like to Dreams.
Will. Ay faith, and nothing remains with me but the sad
Remembrance- not so much as the least Part of her hundred
thousand Crowns; Brussels that inchanted Court has eas'd me of
that Grief, where our Heroes act Tantalus better than ever Ovid
describ'd him, condemn'd daily to see an Apparition of Meat,
Food in Vision only. Faith, I had Bowels, was good-natur'd, and
lent upon the publick Faith as far as 'twill go- But come, let's
leave this mortifying Discourse, and tell me how the price of
Pleasure goes.
Beau. At the old Rates still; he that gives most is happiest, some
few there are for Love!
Will. Ah, one of the last, dear Beaumond; and if a Heart or Sword
can purchase her, I'll bid as fair as the best. Damn it, I
hate a Whore that asks me Mony.
Beau. Yet I have known thee venture all thy Stock for a new Woman.
Will. Ay, such a Fool I was in my dull Days of Constancy, but I am
now for Change, (and should I pay as often, 'twould undo me)-
for Change, my Dear, of Place, Clothes, Wine, and Women. Variety
is the Soul of Pleasure, a Good unknown; and we want Faith to
find it.
Beau. Thou wouldst renounce that fond Opinion, Willmore, didst
thou see a Beauty here in Town, whose Charms have Power to fix
inconstant Nature or Fortune were she tottering on her Wheel.
Will. Her Name, my Dear, her Name?
Beau. I would not breathe it even in my Complaints, lest amorous
Winds should bear it o'er the World, and make Mankind her
Slaves;
But that it is a Name too cheaply known,
And she that owns it may be as cheaply purchas'd.
Will. Hah! cheaply purchas'd too! I languish for her.
Beau. Ay, there's the Devil on't, she is- a Whore.
Will. Ah, what a charming Sound that mighty Word bears!
Beau. Damn her, she'll be thine or any body's.
Will. I die for her-
Beau. Then for her Qualities-
Will. No more-ye Gods, I ask no more,
Be she but fair and much a Whore- Come let's to her.
Beau. Perhaps to morrow you may see this Woman.
Will. Death, 'tis an Age.
Feth. Oh, Captain, the strangest News, Captain.
Will. Prithee what?
Feth. Why, Lieutenant Shift here tells us of two Monsters arriv'd
from Mexico, Jews of vast Fortunes, with an old Jew Uncle their
Guardian; they are worth a hundred thousand Pounds a piece-
Marcy upon's, why, 'tis a Sum able to purchase all Flanders
again from his most christian Majesty.
Will. Ha, ha, ha, Monsters!
Beau. He tells you Truth, Willmore.
Blunt. But hark ye, Lieutenant, are you sure they are not married?
Beau. Who the Devil would venture on such formidable Ladies?
Feth. How, venture on 'em! by the Lord Harry, and that would I,
tho I'm a Justice of the Peace, and they be Jews, (which to a
Christian is a thousand Reasons.)
Blunt. Is the Devil in you to declare our Designs? [Aside.
Feth. Mum, as close as a Jesuit.
Beau. I admire your Courage, Sir, but one of them is so little,
and so deform'd, 'tis thought she is not capable of Marriage;
and the other is so huge an overgrown Giant, no Man dares
venture on her.
Will. Prithee let's go see 'em; what do they pay for going in?
Feth. Pay- I'd have you to know they are Monsters of Quality.
Shift. And not to be seen but by particular Favour of their
Guardian, whom I am got acquainted with, from the Friendship I
have with the Merchant where they lay. The Giant, Sir, is in
love with me, the Dwarf with Ensign Hunt, and as we manage
Matters we may prove lucky.
Beau. And didst thou see the Show? the Elephant and the Mouse.
Shift. Yes, and pleased them wondrously with News I brought 'em of
a famous Mountebank who is coming to Madrid, here are his Bills-
who amongst other his marvellous Cures, pretends to restore
Mistakes in Nature, to new-mould a Face and Body tho never so
misshapen, to exact Proportion and Beauty. This News has made
me gracious to the Ladies, and I am to bring 'em word of the
Arrival of this famous Empirick, and to negotiate the Business
of their Reformation.
Will. And do they think to be restor'd to moderate sizes?
Shift. Much pleas'd with the Hope, and are resolv'd to try at any
Rate.
Feth. Mum, Lieutenant- not too much of their Transformation; we
shall have the Captain put in for a Share, and the Devil would
not have him his Rival: Ned and I are resolv'd to venture a Cast
for 'em as they are- Hah, Ned.
[Will. and Beau. read the Bill.
Blunt. Yes, if there were any Hopes of your keeping a Secret.
Feth. Nay, nay, Ned, the World knows I am a plaguy Fellow at your
Secrets; that, and my Share of the Charge shall be my Part, for
Shift says the Guardian must be brib'd for Consent: Now the
other Moiety of the Mony and the Speeches shall be thy part, for
thou hast a pretty Knack that way. Now Shift shall bring Matters
neatly about, and we'll pay him by the Day, or in gross, when we
married- hah, Shift.
Shift. Sir, I shall be reasonable.
Will. I am sure Fetherfool and Blunt have some wise Design upon
these two Monsters- it must be so- and this Bill has put an
extravagant Thought into my Head- hark ye, Shift.
[Whispers to him.
Blunt. The Devil's in't if this will not redeem my Reputation with
the Captain, and give him to understand that all the Wit does
not lie in the Family of the Willmores, but that this Noddle of
mine can be fruitful too upon Occasion.
Feth. Ay, and Lord, how we'll domineer, Ned, hah- over Willmore
and the rest of the Renegado Officers, when we have married
these Lady Monsters, hah, Ned.
Blunt. -Then to return back to Essex worth a Million.
Feth. And I to Croyden-
Blunt. -Lolling in Coach and Six-
Feth. -Be dub'd Right Worshipful-
Blunt. And stand for Knight of the Shire.
Will. Enough- I must have my Share of this Jest, and for divers
and sundry Reasons thereunto belonging, must be this very
Mountebank expected.
Shift. Faith, Sir, and that were no hard matter, for a day or two
the Town will believe it, the same they look for: and the Bank,
Operators and Musick are all ready.
Will. Well enough, add but a Harlequin and Scaramouch, and I shall
mount in querpo.
Shift. Take no care for that, Sir, your Man, and Ensign Hunt, are
excellent at those two; I saw 'em act 'em the other day to a
Wonder, they'll be glad of the Employment, my self will be an
Operator.
Will. No more, get 'em ready, and give it out, the Man of Art's
arriv'd: Be diligent and secret, for these two politick Asses
must be cozen'd.
Shift. I will about the Business instantly.
[Ex. Shift.
Beau. This Fellow will do Feats if he keeps his Word.
Will. I'll give you mine he shall- But, dear Beaumond, where shall
we meet anon?
Beau. I thank ye for that- 'Gad, ye shall dine with me.
Feth. A good Motion-
Will. I beg your Pardon now, dear Beaumond- I having lately
nothing else to do, took a Command of Horse from the General
at the last Siege, from which I am just arriv'd, and my Baggage
is behind, which I must take order for.
Feth. Pox on't now there's a Dinner lost, 'twas ever an unlucky
Rascal.
Beau. To tempt thee more, thou shalt see my Wife that is to be.
Will. Pox on't, I am the leudest Company in Christendom with your
honest Women- but- What, art thou to be noos'd then?
Beau. 'Tis so design'd by my Uncle, if an old Grandee my Rival
prevent it not; the Wench is very pretty, young, and rich, and
lives in the same House with me, for 'tis my Aunt's Daughter.
Will. Much good may it dye, Harry, I pity you, but 'tis common
Grievance of you happy Men of Fortune.
[Goes towards the House-door with Beau.
Enter La Nuche, Aurelia, Petronella, Sancho, Women
veil'd a little.
Aur. Heavens, Madam, is not that the English Captain?
[Looking on Will.
La Nu. 'Tis, and with him Don Henrick the Ambassador's Nephew-
how my Heart pants and heaves at sight of him! some Fire of the
old Flames remaining, which I must strive to extinguish. For
I'll not bate a Ducat of this Price I've set upon my self, for
all the Pleasures Youth or Love can bring me- for see Aurelia-
the sad Memento of a dacay'd poor old forsaken Whore in
Petronella; consider her, and then commend my Prudence.
Will. Hah, Women!-
Feth. Egad, and fine ones too. I'll tell you that.
Will. No matter, Kindness is better Sauce to Woman than Beauty! By
this Hand she looks at me- Why dost hold me? [Feth. holds him.
Feth. Why, what a Devil, art mad?
Will. Raging, as vigorous Youth kept long from Beauty; wild for
the charming Sex, eager for Woman, I long to give a Loose to
Love and Pleasure.
Blunt. These are not Women, Sir, for you to ruffle-
Will. Have a care of your Persons of Quality, Ned.
[Goes to La Nuche.
-Those lovely Eyes were never made to throw their Darts in
vain.
La Nu. The Conquest would be hardly worth the Pain.
Will. Hah, La Nuche! with what a proud Disdain she flung away-
stay, I will not part so with you- [Holds her.
Enter Ariadne and Lucia with Footmen.
Aria. Who are these before us, Lucia?
Luc. I know not, Madam; but if you make not haste home, you'll be
troubled with Carlo your importunate Lover, who is just behind
us.
Aria. Hang me, a lovely Man! what Lady's that? stay.
Pet. What Insolence is this! This Villain will spoil all-
Feth. Why, Captain, are you quite distracted?- dost know where
thou art? Prithee be civil-
Will. Go, proud and cruel! [Turns her from him.
Enter Carlo, and two or three Spanish Servants following:
Petronella goes to him.
Car. Hah, affronted by a drunken Islander, a saucy Tramontane!-
Draw- [To his Servants whilst he takes La Nuche.
whilst I lead her off- fear not, Lady, you have the Honour of
my Sword to guard ye.
Will. Hah, Carlo- ye lye- it cannot guard the boasting Fool that
wears it- be gone- and look not back upon this Woman. [Snatches
her from him] One single Glance destroys thee-
[They draw and fight; Carlo getting hindmost of his
Spaniards, the English beat 'em off. The Ladies
run away, all but Ariadne and Lucia.
Luc. Heav'ns, Madam, why do ye stay?
Aria. To pray for that dear Stranger- And see, my Prayers are
heard, and he's return'd in safety- this Door shall shelter me
to o'er-hear the Quarrel. [Steps aside.
Enter Will. Blunt, Feth. looking big, and putting up his Sword.
Feth. The noble Captain be affronted by a starch'd Ruff and Beard,
a Coward in querpo, a walking Bunch of Garlick, a pickl'd
Pilchard! abuse the noble Captain, and bear it off in State,
like a Christmas Sweet-heart; these things must not be whilst
Nicholas Fetherfool wears a Sword.
Blunt. Pox o' these Women, I thought no good would come on't:
besides, where's the Jest in affronting honest Women, if there
be such a thing in the Nation?
Feth. Hang't, 'twas the Devil and all-
Will. Ha, ha, ha! Why, good honest homespun Country Gentlemen, who
do you think those were?
Feth. Were! why, Ladies of Quality going to their Devotion; who
should they be?
Blunt. Why, faith, and so I thought too.
Will. Why, that very one Woman I spoke to is ten Whores in Surrey.
Feth. Prithee speak softly, Man: 'Slife, we shall be poniarde for
keeping thee company.
Will. Wise Mr. Justice, give me your Warrant, and if I do not prove
'em Whores, whip me.
Feth. Prithee hold thy scandalous blasphemous Tongue, as if I did
not know Whores from Persons of Quality.
Will. Will you believe me when you lie with her? for thou'rt a
rich Ass, and may'st do it.
Feth. Whores- ha, ha-
Will. 'Tis strange Logick now, because your Band is better that
mine, I must not know a Whore better than you.
Blunt. If this be a Whore, as thou say'st, I understand nothing-
by this Light such a Wench would pass for a Person of Quality
in London.
Feth. Few Ladies have I seen at a Sheriff's Feast have better
Faces, or worn so good Clothes; and by the Lord Harry, if these
be of the gentle Craft, I'd not give a Real for an honest Women
for my use.
Will. Come follow me into the Church, for thither I am sure
they're gone: And I will let you see what a wretched thing you
had been had you lived seven Years longer in Surrey, stew'd in
Ale and Beef-broth.
Feth. O dear Willmore, name not those savory things, there's no
jesting with my Stomach; it sleeps now, but if it wakes, wo be
to your Shares at the Ordinary.
Blunt. I'll say that for Fetherfool, if his Heart were but half so
good as his Stomach, he were a brave Fellow.
[Aside, Exeunt.
Aria. I am resolv'd to follow- and learn, if possible, who 'tis
has made this sudden Conquest o'er me.
[All go off.
[Scene draws, and discovers a Church, a great many People at
Devotion, soft Musick playing. Enter La Nuche,
Aurelia, Petron. and Sancho: To them Willmore, Feth.
Blunt; then Ariadne, Lucia; Feth. bows to La Nuche and
Petronella.
Feth. Now as I hope to be sav'd, Blunt, she's a most melodious
Lady. Would I were worthy to purchase a Sin or so with her.
Would not such a Beauty reconcile thy Quarrel to the Sex?
Blunt. No, were she an Angel in that Shape.
Feth. Why, what a pox couldst not lie with her if she'd let thee?
By the Lord Harry, as errant a Dog as I am, I'd fain see any of
Cupid's Cook-maids put me out of countenance with such a
Shoulder of Mutton.
Aria. See how he gazes on her- Lucia, go nearer, and o'er-hear 'em.
[Lucia listens.
Will. Death, how the charming Hypocrite looks to day, with such a
soft Devotion in her Eyes, as if even now she were praising
Heav'n for all the Advantages it has blest her with.
Blunt. Look how Willmore eyes her, the Rogue's smitten heart deep-
Whores-
Feth. Only a Trick to keep her to himself- he thought the Name of
a Spanish Harlot would fight us from attempting- I must divert
him- how is't, Captain- Prithee mind this Musick- Is it not
most Seraphical?
Will. Pox, let the Fidlers mind and tune their Pipes, I've higher
Pleasures now.
Feth. Oh, have ye so; what, with Whores, Captain?- 'Tis a most
delicious Gentlewoman. [Aside.
Pet. Pray, Madam, mind that Cavalier, who takes such pains to
recommend himself to you.
La Nu. Yes, for a fine conceited Fool-
Pet. Catso, a Fool, what else?
La Nu. Right, they are our noblest Chapmen; a Fool, and a rich
Fool, and an English rich Fool-
Feth. 'Sbud, she eyes me, Ned, I'll set my self in order, it may
take- hah- [Sets himself.
Pet. Let me alone to manage him, I'll to him-
La Nu. Or to the Devil, so I had one Minute's time to speak to
Willmore.
Pet. And accosting him thus- tell him-
La Nu. [in a hasty Tone.]- I am desperately in love with him, and
am Daughter, Wife, or Mistress to some Grandee- bemoan the
Condition of Women of Quality in Spain, who by too much
Constraint are oblig'd to speak first- but were we blest like
other Nations where Men and Women meet-
[Speaking so fast, she offering to put in her word, is still
prevented by t'other's running on.
Pet. What Herds of Cuckolds would Spain breed- 'Slife, I could
find in my Heart to forswear your Service: Have I taught ye
your Trade, to become my Instructor, how to cozen a dull
phlegmatick greasy-brain'd Englishman?- go and expect your
Wishes.
Will. So, she has sent her Matron to our Coxcomb; she saw he was a
Cully fit for Game- who would not be a Rascal to be rich, a
Dog, an Ass, a beaten, harden'd Coward- by Heaven, I will
possess this gay Insensible, to make me hate her- most
extremely curse her- See if she be not fallen to Pray'r again,
from thence to Flattery, Jilting and Purse-taking, to make the
Proverb good- My fair false Sybil, what Inspirations are you
waiting for from Heaven, new Arts to cheat Mankind!- Tell me,
with what Face canst thou be devout, or ask any thing from
thence, who hast made so leud a use of what it has already
lavish'd on thee?
La Nu. Oh my careless Rover! I perceive all your hot Shot is not
yet spent in Battel, you have a Volley in reserve for me
still- Faith, Officer, the Town has wanted Mirth in your
Absence.
Will. And so might all the wiser part for thee, who hast no Mirth,
no Gaiety about thee, and when thou wouldst design some
Coxcomb's ruin; to all the rest, a Soul thou hast so dull, that
neither Love nor Mirth, nor Wit or Wine can wake it to good
Nature- thou'rt one who lazily work'st in thy Trade, and
sell'st for ready Mony so much Kindness; a tame cold Sufferer
only, and no more.
La Nu. What, you would have a Mistress like a Squirrel in a Cage,
always in Action- one who is as free of her Favours as I am
sparing of mine- Well, Captain, I have known the time when La
Nuche was such a Wit, such a Humour, such a Shape, and such a
Voice, (tho to say Truth I sing but scurvily) 'twas Comedy to
see and hear me.
Will. Why, yes Faith for once thou wert, and for once mayst be
again, till thou know'st thy Man, and knowest him to be poor.
At first you lik'd me too, you saw me gay, no marks of Poverty
dwelt in my Face or Dress, and then I was the dearest loveliest
Man- all this was to my outside; Death, you made love to my
Breeches, caress'd my Garniture and Feather, and English Fool
of Quality you thought me- 'Sheart, I have known a Woman doat
on Quality, tho he has stunk thro all his Perfumes; one who
never went all to Bed to her, but left his Teeth, an Eye, false
Back and Breast, sometimes his Palate too upon her Toilet,
whilst her fair Arms hug'd the dismember'd Carcase, and swore
him all Perfection, because of Quality.
La Nu. But he was rich, good Captain, was he not?
Will. Oh most damnably, and a confounded Blockhead, two certain
Remedies against your Pride and Scorn.
La Nu. Have you done, Sir?
Will. With thee and all thy Sex, of which I've try'd an hundred,
and found none true or honest.
La Nu. Oh, I doubt not the number: for you are one of those
healthy-stomacht Lovers, that can digest a Mistress in a Night,
and hunger again next Morning: a Pox of your whining consumptive
Constitution, who are only constant for want of Appetite: you
have a swinging Stomach to Variety, and Want having set an edge
upon your Invention, (with which you cut thro all Difficulties)
you grow more impudent by Success.
Will. I am not always scorn'd then.
La Nu. I have known you as confidently put your Hands into your
Pockets for Money in a Morning, as if the Devil had been your
Banker, when you knew you put 'em off at Night as empty as your
Gloves.
Will. And it may be found Money there too.
La Nu. Then with this Poverty so proud you are, you will not give
the Wall to the Catholick King, unless his Picture hung upon't.
No Servants, no Money, no Meat, always on foot, and yet
undaunted still.
Will. Allow me that, Child.
La Nu. I wonder what the Devil makes you so termagant on our Sex,
'tis not your high feeding, for your Grandees only dine, and
that but when Fortune pleases- For your parts, who are the poor
dependent, brown Bread and old Adam's Ale is only current
amongst ye; yet if little Eve walk in the Garden, the starv'd
lean Rogues neigh after her, as if they were in Paradise.
Will. Still true to Love you see-
La Nu. I heard an English Capuchin swear, that if the King's
Followers could be brought to pray as well as fast, there
would be more Saints among 'em than the Church has ever
canoniz'd.
Will. All this with Pride I own, since 'tis a royal Cause I suffer
for; go pursue your Business your own way, insnare the Fool- I
saw the Toils you set, and how that Face was ordered for the
Conquest, your Eyes brimful of dying lying Love; and now and
then a wishing Glance or Sigh thrown as by chance; which when
the happy Coxcomb caught- you feign'd a Blush, as angry and
asham'd of the Discovery: and all this Cunning's for a little
mercenary Gain- fine Clothes, perhaps some Jewels too, whilst
all the Finery cannot hide the Whore!
La Nu. There's your eternal Quarrel to our Sex, 'twere a fine Trade
indeed to keep a Shop and give your Ware for Love: would it turn
to account think ye, Captain, to trick and dress, to receive all
wou'd enter? faith, Captain, try the Trade.
Pet. What in Discourse with this Railer!- come away; Poverty's
catching. [Returns from Discourse with Feth. speaks to San.
Will. So is the Pox, good Matron, of which you can afford good
Penniworths.
La Nu. He charms me even with his angry Looks, and will undo me
yet.
Pet. Let's leave this Place, I'll tell you my Success as we go.
[Ex. all, some one way, some another, the Forepart of the
Church shuts over, except Will. Blunt, Aria. and Lucia.
Will. She's gone, and all the Plagues of Pride go with her.
Blunt. Heartlikins, follow her- Pox on't, an I'd but as good a Hand
at this Game as thou hast, I'll venture upon any Chance-
Will. Damn her, come, let's to Dinner. Where's Fetherfool?
Blunt. Follow'd a good Woodman, who gave him the Sign: he'll lodge
the Deer e'er night.
Will. Follow'd her- he durst not, the Fool wants Confidence enough
to look on her.
Blunt. Oh you know not how a Country Justice may be improved by
Travel; the Rogue was hedg'd in at home with the Fear of his
Neighbours and the Penal Statutes, now he's broke loose, he
runs neighing like a Stone-Horse upon the Common.
Will. However, I'll not believe this- let's follow 'em.
[Ex. Will. and Blunt.
Aria. He is in love, but with a Courtezan- some Comfort that.
We'll after him- 'Tis a faint-hearted Lover,
Who for the first Discouragement gives over.
[Ex. Ariadne and Lucia.
ACT II.
SCENE I. The Street.
Enter Fetherfool and Sancho, passing over the Stage; after
them Willmore and Blunt, follow'd by Ariadne and Lucia.
Will. 'Tis so, by Heaven, he's chaffering with her Pimp. I'll spare
my Curses on him for having her, he has a Plague beyond 'em.
-Harkye, I'll never love, nor lie with Women more, those Slaves
to Lust, to Vanity and Interest.
Blunt. Ha, Captain! [Shaking his Head and smiling.
Will. Come, let's go drink Damnation to 'em all.
Blunt. Not all, good Captain.
Will. All, for I hate 'em all-
Aria. Heavens! if he should indeed! [Aside.
Blunt. But, Robert, I have found you most inclined to a Damsel when
you had a Bottle in your Head.
Will. Give me thy Hand, Ned- Curse me, despise me, point me out for
Cowardice if e'er thou see'st me court a Woman more: Nay, when
thou knowest I ask any of the Sex a civil Question again- a
Plague upon 'em, how they've handled me- come, let's go drink, I
say- Confusion to the Race- A Woman!- no, I will be burnt with
my own Fire to Cinders e'er any of the Brood shall lay my
Flame-
Aria. He cannot be so wicked to keep this Resolution sure-
[She passes by.
Faith, I must be resolv'd- you've made a pious Resolution, Sir,
had you the Grace to keep it-
[Passing on he pauses, and looks on her.
Will. Hum- What's that?
Blunt. That- O- nothing- but a Woman- come away.
Will. A Woman! Damn her, what Mischief made her cross my way just
on the Point of Reformation!
Blunt. I find the Devil will not lose so hopeful a Sinner. Hold,
hold, Captain, have you no Regard to your own Soul?
'dsheartlikins, 'tis a Woman, a very errant Woman.
Aria. Your Friend informs you right, Sir, I am a Woman.
Will. Ay, Child, or I were a lost Man- therefore, dear lovely
Creature-
Aria. How can you tell, Sir?
Will. Oh, I have naturally a large Faith, Child, and thou'st
promising Form, a tempting Motion, clean Limbs, well drest, and
a most damnable inviting Air.
Aria. I am not to be sold, nor fond of Praise I merit not.
Will. How, not to be sold too! By this light, Child, thou speakest
like a Cherubim, I have not heard so obliging a Sound from the
Mouth of Woman-kind this many a Day- I find we must be better
acquainted, my Dear.
Aria. Your Reason, good familiar Sir, I see no such Necessity.
Will. Child, you are mistaken, I am in great Necessity; for first
I love thee- desperately- have I not damn'd my Soul already
for thee, and wouldst thou be so wicked to refuse a little
Consolation to my Body? Then secondly, I see thou art frank
and good-natur'd, and wilt do Reason gratis.
Aria. How prove ye that, good Mr. Philospher?
Will. Thou say'st thou'rt not to be sold, and I'm sure thou'rt to
be had- that lovely Body of so divine a Form, those soft smooth
Arms and Hands, were made t'embrace as well as be embrac'd;
that delicate white rising Bosom to be prest, and all thy other
Charms to be enjoy'd.
Aria. By one that can esteem 'em to their worth, can set a Value
and a Rate upon 'em.
Will. Name not those Words, they grate my Ears like Jointure,
that dull conjugal Cant that frights the generous Lover. Rate-
Death, let the old Dotards talk of Rates, and pay it t'atone
for the Defects of Impotence. Let the sly Statesman, who jilts
the Commonwealth with his grave Politicks, pay for the Sin,
that he may doat in secret; let the brisk Fool inch out his
scanted Sense with a large Purse more eloquent than he: But
tell not me of Rates, who bring a Heart, Youth, Vigor, and a
Tongue to sing the Praise of every single Pleasure thou shalt
give me.
Aria. Then if I should be kind, I perceive you would not keep the
Secret.
Will. Secrecy is a damn'd ungrateful Sin, Child, known only where
Religion and Small-beer are current, despis'd where Apollo and
the Vine bless the Country: you find none of Jove's Mistresses
hid in Roots and Plants, but fixt Stars in Heaven for all to
gaze and wonder at- and tho I am no God, my Dear, I'll do a
Mortal's Part, and generously tell the admiring World what
hidden Charms thou hast: Come, lead me to some Place of
Happiness-
Blunt. Prithee, honest Damsel, be not so full of Questions; will a
Pistole or two do thee any hurt?
Luc. None at all, Sir-
Blunt. Thou speak'st like a hearty Wench- and I believe hast not
been one of Venus' Hand-maids so long, but thou understand thy
Trade- In short, fair Damsel, this honest Fellow here who is so
termagant upon thy Lady, is my Friend, my particular Friend, and
therefore I would have him handsomly, and well-favour'dly
abus'd- you conceive me.
Luc. Truly, Sir, a friendly Request- but in what Nature abus'd?
Blunt. Nature!- why any of your Tricks would serve- but if he
could be conveniently strip'd and beaten, or tost in a Blanket,
or any such trivial Business, thou wouldst do me a singular
Kindness; as for Robbery he defies the Devil: an empty Pocket
is an Antidote against that Ill.
Luc. Your Money, Sir: and if he be not cozen'd, say a Spanish
Woman has neither Wit nor Invention upon Occasion.
Blunt. Sheartlikins, how I shall love and honour thee for't- here's
earnest- [Talks to her with Joy and Grimace.
Aria. But who was that you entertain'd at Church but now?
Will. Faith, one, who for her Beauty merits that glorious Title she
wears, it was- a Whore, Child.
Aria. That's but a scurvy Name; yet, if I'm not mistaken, in those
false Eyes of yours, they look with longing Love upon that-
Whore, Child.
Will. Thou are i'th' right, and by this hand, my Soul was full as
wishing as my eyes: but a Pox on't, you Women have all a certain
Jargon, or Gibberish, peculiar to your selves; of Value, Rate,
Present, Interest, Settlement, Advantage, Price, Maintenance,
and the Devil and all of Fopperies, which in plain Terms signify
ready Money, by way of Fine before Entrance; so that an honest
well-meaning Merchant of Love finds no Credit amongst ye,
without his Bill of Lading.
Aria. We are not all so cruel- but the Devil on't is, your good-
natur'd Heart is likely accompanied with an ill Face and worse
Wit.
Will. Faith, Child, a ready Dish when a Man's Stomach is up, is
better than a tedious Feast. I never saw any Man yet cut my
piece; some are for Beauty, some are for Wit, and some for the
Secret, but I for all, so it be in a kind Girl: and for Wit in
Woman, so she say pretty fond things, we understand; tho true
or false, no matter.
Aria. Give the Devil his due, you are a very conscientious Lover:
I love a Man that scorns to impose dull Truth and Constancy on a
Mistress.
Will. Constancy, that current Coin with Fools! No, Child, Heaven
keep that Curse from our Doors.
Aria. Hang it, it loses Time and Profit, new Lovers have new Vows
and new Presents, whilst the old feed upon a dull repetition of
what they did when they were Lovers; 'tis like eating the cold
Meat ones self, after having given a Friend a Feast.
Will. Yes, that's the thrifty Food for the Family when the Guests
are gone. Faith, Child, thou hast made a neat and a hearty
Speech: But prithee, my Dear, for the future, leave out that
same Profit and Present, for I have a natural Aversion to hard
words; and for matter of quick Dispatch in the Business- give me
thy Hand, Child- let us but start fair, and if thou outstripst
me, thou'rt a nimble Racer.
[Lucia sees Shift.
Luc. Oh, Madam, let's be gone: younder's Lieutenant Shift, who, if
he sees us, will certainly give an Account of it to Mr.
Beaumond. Let's get in thro the Garden, I have the Key.
Aria. Here's Company coming, and for several reasons I would not
be seen. [Offers to go.
Will. Gad, Child, nor I; Reputation is tender- therefore prithee
let's retire. [Offers to go with her.
Aria. You must not stir a step.
Will. Not stir! no Magick Circle can detain me if you go.
Aria. Follow me then at a distance, and observe where I enter; and
at night (if your Passion lasts so long) return, and you shall
find Admittance into the Garden. [Speaking hastily.
[He runs out after her.
Enter Shift.
Shift. Well, Sir, the Mountebank's come, and just going to begin
in the Piazza; I have order'd Matters, that you shall have a
Sight of the Monsters, and leave to court 'em, and when won,
to give the Guardian a fourth part of the Portions.
Blunt. Good: But Mum- here's the Captain, who must by no means
know our good Fortune, till he see us in State.
Enter Willmore, Shift goes to him.
Shift. All things are ready, Sir, for our Design, the House
prepar'd as you directed me, the Guardian wrought upon by the
Persuasions of the two Monsters, to take a Lodging there, and
try the Bath of Reformation: The Bank's preparing, and the
Operators and Musick all ready, and the impatient Town flockt
together to behold the Man of Wonders, and nothing wanting but
your Donship and a proper Speech.
Will. 'Tis well, I'll go fit my self with a Dress, and think of a
Speech the while: In the mean time, go you and amuse the gaping
Fools that expect my coming. [Goes out.
Enter Fetherfool singing and dancing.
Feth. Have you heard of a Spanish Lady,
How she woo'd an English Man?
Blunt. Why, how now, Fetherfool?
Feth. Garments gay, and rich as may be,
Deckt with Jewels, had she on.
Blunt. Why, how now, Justice, what run mad out of Dog-days?
Feth. Of a comely Countenance and Grace is she,
A sweeter Creature in the World there could not be.
Shift. Why, what the Devil's the matter, Sir?
Blunt. Stark mad, 'dshartlikins.
Feth. Of a Comely Countenance- well, Lieutenant, the most heroick
and illustrious Madona! Thou saw'st her, Ned: And of a comely
Counte- The most Magnetick Face- well- I knew the Charms of
these Eyes of mine were not made in vain: I was design'd for
great things, that's certain- And a sweeter Creature in the
World there could not be. [Singing.
Blunt. What then the two Lady Monsters are forgotten? the Design
upon the Million of Money, the Coach and Six, and Patent for
Right Worshipful, all drown'd in the Joy of this new Mistress?-
But well, Lieutenant, since he is so well provided for, you may
put in with me for a Monster; such a Jest, and such a Sum, is
not to be lost.
Shift. Nor shall not, or I have lost my Aim. [Aside.
Feth. [Putting off his Hat.] Your Pardons, good Gentlemen; and tho
I perceive I shall have no great need for so trifling a Sum as a
hundred thousand Pound, or so, yet a Bargain's a Bargain,
Gentlemen.
Blunt. Nay, 'dsheartlikins, the Lieutenant scorns to do a foul
thing, d'ye see, but we would not have the Monsters slighted.
Feth. Slighted! no, Sir, I scorn your Words, I'd have ye to know,
that I have as high a Respect for Madam Monster, as any
Gentleman in Christendom, and so I desire she should
understand.
Blunt. Why, this is that that's handsom.
Shift. Well, the Mountebank's come, Lodgings are taken at his
House, and the Guardian prepar'd to receive you on the aforesaid
Terms, and some fifty Pistoles to the Mountebank to stand your
Friend, and the Business is done.
Feth. Which shall be perform'd accordingly, I have it ready about
me.
Blunt. And here's mine, put 'em together, and let's be speedy, lest
some should bribe higher, and put in before us.
[Feth. takes the Money, and looks pitiful on't.
Feth. Tis a plaguy round Sum, Ned, pray God it turn to Account.
Blunt. Account, 'dsheartlikins, tis not in the Power of mortal Man
to cozen 'me.
Shift. Oh fie, Sir, cozen you, Sir!- well, you'll stay here and see
the Mountebank, he's coming forth.
[A Hollowing. Enter from the Front a Bank, a Pageant,
which they fix on the Stage at one side, a little
Pavilion on't, Musick playing, and Operators round
below, or Antickers.
[Musick plays, and an Antick Dance.
Enter Willmore like a Mountebank, with a Dagger in one Hand,
and a Viol in the other, Harlequin and Scaramouche; Carlo with
other Spaniards below, and Rabble; Ariadne and Lucia above in
the Balcony, others on the other side, Fetherfool and Blunt
below.
Will. (bowing) Behold this little Viol, which contains in its
narrow Bounds what the whole Universe cannot purchase, if sold
to its true Value; this admirable, this miraculous Elixir, drawn
from the Hearts of Mandrakes, Phenix Livers, and Tongues of
Maremaids, and distill'd by contracted Sun-Beams, has besides
the unknown Virtue of curing all Distempers both of Mind and
Body, that divine one of animating the Heart of Man to that
Degree, that however remiss, cold and cowardly by Nature, he
shall become vigorous and brave. Oh stupid and insensible Man,
when Honour and secure Renown invites you, to treat it with
Neglect, even when you need but passive Valour, to become the
Heroes of the Age; receive a thousand Wounds, each of which
wou'd let out fleeting Life: Here's that can snatch the parting
Soul in its full Career, and bring it back to its native
Mansion; baffles grim Death, and disappoints even Fate.
Feth. Oh Pox, an a Man were sure of that now-
Will. Behold, here's Demonstration-
[Harlequin stabs himself, and falls as dead.
Feth. Hold, hold, why, what the Devil is the Fellow mad?
Blunt. Why, do'st think he has hurt himself?
Feth. Hurt himself! why, he's murder'd, Man; 'tis flat Felo de se,
in any ground in England, if I understand Law, and I have been a
Justice o'th' Peace.
Will. See, Gentlemen, he's dead-
Feth. Look ye there now, I'll be gone lest I be taken as an
Accessary. [Going out.
Will. Coffin him, inter him, yet after four and twenty Hours, as
many Drops of this divine Elixir give him new Life again; this
will recover whole Fields of slain, and all the Dead shall rise
and fight again- 'twas this that made the Roman Legions
numerous, and now makes France so formidable, and this alone-
may be the Occasion of the loss of Germany.
[Pours in Harlequin's Wound, he rises.
Feth. Why this Fellow's the Devil, Ned, that's for certain.
Blunt. Oh plague, a damn'd Conjurer, this-
Will. Come, buy this Coward's Comfort, quickly buy; what Fop would
be abus'd, mimick'd and scorn'd, for fear of Wounds can be so
easily cured? Who is't wou'd bear the Insolence and Pride of
domineering great Men, proud Officers or Magistrates? or who
wou'd cringe to Statesmen out of Fear? What Cully wou'd be
cuckolded? What foolish Heir undone by cheating Gamesters? What
Lord wou'd be lampoon'd? What Poet fear the Malice of his
satirical Brother, or Atheist fear to fight for fear of Death?
Come buy my Coward's Comfort, quickly buy.
Feth. Egad, Ned, a very excellent thing this; I'll lay out ten
Reals upon this Commodity.
[They buy, whilst another Part of the Dance is danc'd.
Will. Behold this little Paper, which contains a Pouder, whose
Value surmounts that of Rocks of Diamonds and Hills of Gold;
'twas this made Venus a Goddess, and was given her by Apollo,
from her deriv'd to Helen, and in the Sack of Troy lost, till
recover'd by me out of some Ruins of Asia. Come, buy it, Ladies,
you that wou'd be fair and wear eternal Youth; and you in whom
the amorous Fire remains, when all the Charms are fled: You that
dress young and gay, and would be thought so, that patch and
paint, to fill up sometimes old Furrows on your Brows, and set
yourselves for Conquest, tho in vain; here's that will give you
aubern Hair, white Teeth, red Lips, and Dimples on your Cheeks:
Come, buy it all you that are past bewitching, and wou'd have
handsom, young and active Lovers.
Feth. Another good thing, Ned.
Car. I'll lay out a Pistole or two in this, if it have the same
Effect on Men.
Will. Come, all you City Wives, that wou'd advance your Husbands
to Lord Mayors, come, buy of me new Beauty; this will give it
tho now decay'd, as are your Shop Commodities; this will
retrieve your Customers, and vend your false and out of
fashion'd Wares: cheat, lye, protest and cozen as you please, a
handsom Wife makes all a lawful Gain. Come, City Wives, come,
buy.
Feth. A most prodigious Fellow!
[They buy, he sits, the other Part is danc'd.
Will. But here, behold the Life and Soul of Man! this is the
amorous Pouder, which Venus made and gave the God of Love, which
made him first a Deity; you talk of Arrows, Bow, and killing
Darts; Fables, poetical Fictions, and no more: 'tis this alone
that wounds and fires the Heart, makes Women kind, and equals
Men to Gods; 'tis this that makes your great Lady doat on the
ill-favour'd Fop; your great Man be jilted by his little
Mistress, the Judge cajol'd by his Semstress, and your Politican
by his Comedian; your young lady doat on her decrepid Husband,
your Chaplain on my Lady's Waiting-Woman, and the young Squire
on the Landry-Maid- In fine, Messieurs,
'Tis this that cures the Lover's Pain,
And Celia of her cold Disdain.
Feth. A most devilish Fellow this!
Blunt. Hold, shartlikins, Fetherfool, let's have a Dose or two of
this Pouder for quick Dispatch with our Monsters.
Feth. Why Pox, Man, Jugg my Giant would swallow a whole Cart-Load
before 'twould operate.
Blunt. No hurt in trying a Paper or two however.
Car. A most admirable Receit, I shall have need on't.
Will. I need say nothing of my divine Baths of Reformation, nor the
wonders of the old Oracle of the Box, which resolves all
Questions, my Bills sufficiently declare their Virtue.
[Sits down. They buy.
Enter Petronella Elenora carried in a Chair, dress'd
like a Girl of Fifteen.
Shift. Room there, Gentlemen, room for a Patient.
Blunt. Pray, Seignior, who may this be thus muzzl'd by old Gaffer
Time?
Car. One Petronella Elenora, Sir, a famous outworn Curtezan.
Blunt. Elenora! she may be that of Troy for her Antiquity, tho
fitter for God Priapus to ravish than Paris.
Shift. Hunt, a word; dost thou see that same formal Politician
yonder, on the Jennet, the nobler Animal of the two?
Hunt. What of him?
Shift. 'Tis the same drew on the Captain this Morning, and I must
revenge the Affront.
Hunt. Have a care of Revenges in Spain, upon Persons of his
Quality.
Shift. Nay, I'll only steal his Horse from under him.
Hunt. Steal it! thou may'st take it by force perhaps; but how
safely is a Question.
Shift. I'll warrant thee- shoulder you up one side of his great
Saddle, I'll do the like on t'other; then heaving him gently
up, Harlequin shall lead the Horse from between his Worship's
Legs: All this in the Crowd will not be perceiv'd, where all
Eyes are imploy'd on the Mountebank.
Hunt. I apprehend you now-
[Whilst they are lifting Petronella on the Mountebank's Stage,
they go into the Crowd, shoulder up Carlo's Saddle.
Harlequin leads the Horse forward, whilst Carlo is gazing,
and turning up his Mustachios; they hold him up a little
while, then let him drop: he rises and stares about for his
Horse.
Car. This is flat Conjuration.
Shift. What's your Worship on foot?
Hunt. I never saw his Worship on foot before.
Car. Sirrah, none of your Jests, this must be by diabolical Art,
and shall cost the Seignior dear- Men of my Garb affronted- my
Jennet vanisht- most miraculous- by St. Jago, I'll be revenged-
hah, what's here- La Nuche-
[Surveys her at a distance.
Enter La Nuche, Aurelia, Sancho.
La Nu. We are pursu'd by Beaumond, who will certainly hinder our
speaking to Willmore, should we have the good fortune to see him
in this Crowd- and yet there's no avoiding him.
Beau. 'Tis she, how carefully she shuns me!
Aur. I'm satisfied he knows us by the jealous Concern which appears
in that prying Countenance of his.
Beau. Stay, Cruel, is it Love or Curiosity, that wings those nimble
Feet? [Holds her.
[Lucia above and Ariadne.]
Aria. Beaumond with a Woman!
Beau. Have you forgot this is the glorious Day that ushers in the
Night shall make you mine? the happiest Night that ever
favour'd Love!
La Nu. Or if I have, I find you'll take care to remember me.
Beau. Sooner I could forget the Aids of Life, sooner forget how
first that Beauty charm'd me.
La Nu. Well, since your Memory's so good, I need not doubt your
coming.
Beau. Still cold and unconcern'd! How have I doated, and how
sacrific'd, regardless of my Fame, lain idling here, when all
the Youth of Spain were gaining Honour, valuing one Smile of
thine above their Laurels!
La Nu. And in return, I do submit to yield, preferring you above
those fighting Fools, who safe in Multitudes reap Honour
cheaper.
Beau. Yet there is one- one of those fighting Fools which should'st
thou see, I fear I were undone; brave, handsome, gay, and all
that Women doat on, unfortunate in every good of Life, but that
one Blessing of obtaining Women: Be wise, for if thou seest him
thou art lost- Why dost thou blush?
La Nu. Because you doubt my Heart- 'tis Willmore that he means.
[Aside.] We've Eyes upon us, Don Carlo may grow jealous, and
he's a powerful Rival- at night I shall expect ye.
Beau. Whilst I prepare my self for such a Blessing.
[Ex. Beau.
Car. Hah! a Cavalier in conference with La Nuche! and entertain'd
without my knowledge! I must prevent this Lover, for he's young-
and this Night will surprise her. [Aside.
Will. And you would be restor'd? [To Petro.
Pet. Yes, if there be that Divinity in your Baths of Reformation.
Will. There are.
New Flames shall sparkle in those Eyes;
And these grey Hairs flowing and bright shall rise:
These Cheeks fresh Buds of Roses wear,
And all your wither'd Limbs so smooth and clear,
As shall a general Wonder move,
And wound a thousand Hearts with Love.
Pet. A Blessing on you, Sir, there's fifty Pistoles for you, and as
I earn it you shall have more.
[They lift her down.
[Exit Willmore bowing.
Shift. Messieurs, 'tis late, and the Seignior's Patients stay for
him at his Laboratory, to morrow you shall see the conclusion of
this Experiment, and so I humbly take my leave at this time.
Enter Willmore, below sees La Nuche, makes up to her,
whilst the last part of the Dance is dancing.
La Nu. What makes you follow me, Sir?
[She goes from him, he pursues.
Will. Madam, I see something in that lovely Face of yours, which if
not timely prevented will be your ruin: I'm now in haste, but I
have more to say- [Goes off.
La Nu. Stay, Sir- he's gone- and fill'd me with a curiosity that
will not let me rest till it be satisfied: Follow me, Aurelia,
for I must know my Destiny. [Goes out.
[The Dance ended, the Bank removes, the People go off.
Feth. Come, Ned, now for our amorous Visit to the two Lady
Monsters.
[Ex. Feth. and Blunt.
SCENE II. Changes to a fine Chamber.
Enter Ariadne and Lucia.
Aria. I'm thoughtful: Prithee, Cousin, sing some foolish Song-
SONG.
Phillis, whose Heart was unconfin'd
And free as Flowers on Meads and Plains,
None boasted of her being kind,
'Mongst all the languishing and amorous Swains:
No Sighs nor Tears the Nymph could move [bis.
To pity or return their Love.
Till on a time, the hapless Maid
Retir'd to shun the heat o'th' Day,
Into a Grove, beneath whose Shade
Strephon, the careless Shepherd, sleeping lay:
But oh such Charms the Youth adorn, [bis.
Love is reveng'd for all her Scorn.
Her Cheeks with Blushes covered were,
And tender Sighs her Bosom warm;
A softness in her Eyes appear,
Unusual Pains she feels from every Charm:
To Woods and Ecchoes now she cries, [bis.
For Modesty to speak denies.
Aria. Come, help to undress me, for I'll to this Mountebank, to
know what success I shall have with my Cavalier.
[Unpins her things before a great Glass that is fasten'd.
Luc. You are resolv'd then to give him admittance?
Aria. Where's the danger of a handsom young Fellow?
Luc. But you don't know him, Madam.
Aria. But I desire to do, and time may bring it about without
Miracle.
Luc. Your Cousin Beaumond will forbid the Banes.
Aria. No, nor old Carlos neither, my Mother's precious Choice, who
is as sollicitous for the old Gentleman, as my Father-in-Law is
for his Nephew. Therefore, Lucia, like a good and gracious
Child, I'll end the Dispute between my Father and Mother, and
please my self in the choice of this Stranger, if he be to be
had.
Luc. I should as soon be enamour'd on the North Wind, a Tempest, or
a Clap of Thunder. Bless me from such a Blast.
Aria. I'd have a Lover rough as Seas in Storms, upon occasion; I
hate your dull temperate Lover, 'tis such a husbandly quality,
like Beaumond's Addresses to me, whom neither Joy nor Anger puts
in motion; or if it do, 'tis visibly forc'd- I'm glad I saw him
entertain a Woman to day, not that I care, but wou'd be fairly
rid of him.
Luc. You'll hardly mend your self in this.
Aria. What, because he held Discourse with a Curtezan?
Luc. Why, is there no danger in her Eyes, do ye think?
Aria. None that I fear, that Stranger's not such a fool to give his
Heart to a common Woman; and she that's concern'd where her
Lover bestows his Body, were I the Man, I should think she had a
mind to't her self.
Luc. And reason, Madam: in a lawful way 'tis your due.
Aria. What all? unconscionable Lucia! I am more merciful; but be he
what he will, I'll to this cunning Man, to know whether ever any
part of him shall be mine.
Luc. Lord, Madam, sure he's a Conjurer.
Aria. Let him be the Devil, I'll try his Skill, and to that end
will put on a Suit of my Cousin Endymion; there are two or three
very pretty ones of his in the Wardrobe, go carry 'em to my
Chamber, and we'll fit our selves and away- Go haste whilst I
undress.
[Ex. Lucia.
[Ariadne undressing before the Glass.
Enter Beaumond tricking himself, and looks on himself.
Beau. Now for my charming Beauty, fair La Nuche- hah- Ariadne- damn
the dull Property, how shall I free my self?
[She turns, sees him, and walks from the Glass,
he takes no notice of her, but tricks himself
the Glass, humming a Song.
Aria. Beaumond! What Devil brought him hither to prevent me? I hate
the formal matrimonial Fop. [He walks about and sings.
Sommes nous pas trop heureux,
Belle Irise, que nous ensemble.
A Devil on him, he may chance to plague me till night, and
hinder my dear Assignation. [Sings again.
La Nuit et le Sombre voiles
Coverie nos desires ardentes;
Et l' Amour et les Etoiles
Sont nos secrets confidents.
Beau. Pox on't, how dull am I at an excuse?
[Sets his Wig in the Glass, and sings.
A Pox of Love and Woman-kind,
And all the Fops adore 'em.
[Puts on his Hat, cocks it, and goes to her.
How is't, Cuz?
Aria. So, here's the saucy freedom of a Husband Lover- a blest
Invention this of marrying, whoe'er first found it out.
Beau. Damn this English Dog of a Perriwig-maker, what an ungainly
Air it gives the Face, and for a Wedding Perriwig too- how dost
thou like it, Ariadne? [Uneasy.
Aria. As ill as the Man- I perceive you have taken more care for
your Perriwig than your Bride.
Beau. And with reason, Ariadne, the Bride was never the care of the
Lover, but the business of the Parents; 'tis a serious Affair,
and ought to be manag'd by the grave and wise: Thy Mother and my
Uncle have agreed the Matter, and would it not look very sillily
in me now to whine a tedious Tale of Love in your Ear, when the
business is at an end? 'tis like saying a Grace when a Man
should give Thanks.
Aria. Why did you not begin sooner then?
Beau. Faith, Ariadne, because I know nothing of the Design in hand;
had I had civil warning, thou shouldst have had as pretty smart
Speeches from me, as any Coxcomb Lover of 'em all could have
made thee.
Aria. I shall never marry like a Jew in my own Tribe; I'll rather
be possest by honest old doating Age, than by saucy conceited
Youth, whose Inconstancy never leaves a Woman safe or quiet.
Beau. You know the Proverb of the half Loaf, Ariadne; a Husband
that will deal thee some Love is better than one who can give
thee none: you would have a blessed time on't with old Father
Carlo.
Aria. No matter, a Woman may with some lawful excuse cuckold him,
and 'twould be scarce a Sin.
Beau. Not so much as lying with him, whose reverend Age wou'd make
it look like Incest.
Aria. But to marry thee- would be a Tyranny from whence there's no
Appeal: A drinking whoring Husband! 'tis the Devil-
Beau. You are deceiv'd, if you think Don Carlo more chaste than I;
only duller, and more a Miser, one that fears his Flesh more,
and loves his Money better.- Then to be condemn'd to lie with
him- oh, who would not rejoice to meet a Woollen-Waistcoat, and
knit Night-Cap without a Lining, a Shirt so nasty, a cleanly
Ghost would not appear in't at the latter Day? then the compound
of nasty Smells about him, stinking Breath, Mustachoes stuft
with villainous snush, Tobacco, and hollow Teeth: thus prepar'd
for Delight, you meet in Bed, where you may lie and sigh whole
Nights away, he snores it out till Morning, and then rises to
his sordid business.
Aria. All this frights me not: 'tis still much better than a
keeping Husband, whom neither Beauty nor Honour in a Wife can
oblige.
Beau. Oh, you know not the good-nature of a Man of Wit, at least I
shall bear a Conscience, and do thee reason, which Heaven denies
to old Carlo, were he willing.
Aria. Oh, he talks as high, and thinks as well of himself as any
young Coxcomb of ye all.
Beau. He has reason, for if his Faith were no better than his
Works, he'd be damn'd.
Aria. Death, who wou'd marry, who wou'd be chaffer'd thus, and sold
to Slavery? I'd rather buy a Friend at any Price that I could
love and trust.
Beau. Ay, could we but drive on such a Bargain.
Aria. You should not be the Man; You have a Mistress, Sir, that has
your Heart, and all your softer Hours: I know't, and if I were
so wretched as to marry thee, must see my Fortune lavisht out on
her; her Coaches, Dress, and Equipage exceed mine by far:
Possess she all the day thy Hours of Mirth, good Humour and
Expence, thy Smiles, thy Kisses, and thy Charms of Wit. Oh how
you talk and look when in her Presence! but when with me,
A Pox of Love and Woman-kind, [Sings.
And all the Fops adore 'em.
How it's, Cuz- then slap, on goes the Beaver, which being
cock'd, you bear up briskly, with the second Part to the same
Tune- Harkye, Sir, let me advise you to pack up your Trumpery
and be gone, your honourable Love, your matrimonial Foppery,
with your other Trinkets thereunto belonging; or I shall talk
aloud, and let your Uncle hear you.
Beau. Sure she cannot know I love La Nuche. [Aside.
The Devil take me, spoil'd! What Rascal has inveigled thee? What
lying fawning coward has abus'd thee? When fell you into this
Leudness? Pox, thou art hardly worth the loving now, that canst
be such a Fool, to wish me chaste, or love me for that Virtue;
or that wouldst have me a ceremonious help, one that makes
handsom Legs to Knights without laughing, or with a sneaking
modest Squirish Countenance; assure you, I have my Maidenhead. A
Curse upon thee, the very thought of Wife has made thee formal.
Aria. I must dissemble, or he'll stay all day to make his peace
again- why, have you ne'er- a Mistress then?
Beau. A hundred, by this day, as many as I like, they are my Mirth,
the business of my loose and wanton Hours; but thou art my
Devotion, the grave, the solemn Pleasure of my Soul- Pox, would
I were handsomly rid of thee too. [Aside.
-Come, I have business- send me pleas'd away.
Aria. Would to Heaven thou wert gone; [Aside.
You're going to some Woman now.
Beau. Oh damn the Sex, I hate 'em all- but thee- farewell, my
pretty jealous- sullen- Fool.
[Goes out.
Aria. Farewel, believing Coxcomb.
[Enter Lucia.
Lucia. Madam, the Clothes are ready in your Chamber.
Aria. Let's haste and put 'em on then.
[Runs out.
ACT III.
SCENE I. A House.
Enter Fetherfool and Blunt, staring about, after them Shift.
Shift. Well, Gentlemen, this is the Doctor's House, and your fifty
Pistoles has made him intirely yours; the Ladies too are here in
safe Custody- Come, draw Lots who shall have the Dwarf, and who
the Giant. [They draw.
Feth. I have the Giant.
Blunt. And I the little tiny Gentlewoman.
Shift. Well, you shall first see the Ladies, and then prepare for
your Uncle Moses, the old Jew Guardian, before whom you must be
very grave and sententious: You know the old Law was full of
Ceremony.
Feth. Well, I long to see the Ladies, and to have the first Onset
over.
Shift. I'll cause 'em to walk forth immediately. [Goes out.
Feth. My Heart begins to fail me plaguily- would I could see 'em a
little at a Distance before they come slap dash upon a Man.
[Peeping.
Hah!- Mercy upon us!- What's yonder!- Ah, Ned my Monster is as
big as the Whore of Babylon- Oh I'm in a cold Sweat-
[Blunt pulls him to peep, and both do so.
Oh Lord! she's as tall as the St. Christopher in Notre-dame at
Paris, and the little one looks like the Christo upon his
Shoulders- I shall ne'er be able to stand the first Brunt.
Blunt. 'Dsheartlikins, whither art going? [Pulls him back.
Feth. Why only- to- say my Prayers a little- I'll be with thee
presently. [Offers to go, he pulls him.
Blunt. What a Pox, art thou afraid of a Woman-
Feth. Not of a Woman, Ned, but of a She Gargantua, I am of a
Hercules in Petticoats.
Blunt. The less Resemblance the better. 'Shartlikins, I'd rather
mine were a Centaur than a Woman: No, since my Naples Adventure,
I am clearly for your Monster.
Feth. Prithee, Ned, there's Reason in all things-
Blunt. But villainous Woman- 'Dshartlikins, stand your Ground, or
I'll nail you to't: Why, what a Pox are you so quezy stomach'd,
a Monster won't down with you, with a hundred thousand Pound to
boot. [Pulling him.
Feth. Nay, Ned, that mollifies something; and I scorn it should be
said of Nich. Fetherfool that he left his Friend in danger, or
did an ill thing: therefore, as thou say'st, Ned, tho she were a
Centaur, I'll not budg an Inch.
Blunt. Why God a Mercy.
Enter the Giant and Dwarf, with them Shift as an Operator,
and Harlequin attending.
Feth. Oh- they come- Prithee, Ned, advance-
[Puts him forward.
Shift. Most beautiful Ladies.
Feth. Why, what a flattering Son of a Whore's this?
Shift. These are the illustrious Persons your Uncle designs your
humble Servants, and who have so extraordinary a Passion for
your Seignioraships.
Feth. Oh yes, a most damnable one: Wou'd I were cleanlily off
the Lay, and had my Money again.
Blunt. Think of a Million, Rogue, and do not hang an Arse thus.
Giant. What, does the Cavalier think I'll devour him? [To Shift.
Feth. Something inclin'd to such a Fear.
Blunt. Go and salute her, or, Adsheartlikins, I'll leave you to her
Mercy.
Feth. Oh, dear Ned, have pity on me- but as for saluting her, you
speak of more than may be done, dear Heart, without a Scaling
Ladder.
[Exit Shift.
Dwarf. Sure, Seignior Harlequin, these Gentlemen are dumb.
Blunt. No, my little diminutive Mistress, my small Epitomy of
Woman-kind, we can prattle when our Hands are in, but we are raw
and bashful, young Beginners; for this is the first time we ever
were in love: we are something aukard, or so, but we shall come
on in time, and mend upon Incouragement.
Feth. Pox on him, what a delicate Speech has he made now- 'Gad, I'd
give a thousand Pounds a Year for Ned's concise Wit, but not a
Groat for his Judgment in Womankind.
Enter Shift with a Ladder, sets it against the Giant, and
bows to Fetherfool.
Shift. Here, Seignior, Don, approach, mount, and salute the Lady.
Feth. Mount! why, 'twould turn my Brains to look down from her
Shoulders- But hang't, 'Gad, I will be brave and venture.
[Runs up the Ladder, salutes her, and runs down again.
And Egad this was an Adventure and a bold one- but since I am
come off with a whole Skin, I am flesht for the next onset-
Madam- has your Greatness any mind to marry?
[Goes to her, speaks, and runs back;
Blunt claps him on the Back.
Giant. What if have?
Feth. Why then, Madam, without inchanted Sword or Buckler, I'm your
Man.
Giant. My Man? my Mouse. I'll marry none whose Person and Courage
shall not bear some Proportion to mine.
Feth. Your Mightiness I fear will die a Maid then.
Giant. I doubt you'll scarce secure me from that Fear, who court my
Fortune, not my Beauty.
Feth. Hu, how scornful she is, I'll warrant you- why I must
confess, your Person is something heroical and masculine, but I
protest to your Highness, I love and honour ye.
Dwarf. Prithee, Sister, be not so coy, I like my Lover well enough;
and if Seignior Mountebank keep his Word in making us of
reasonable Proportions, I think the Gentlemen may serve for
Husbands.
Shift. Dissemble, or you betray your Love for us.
[Aside to the Giant.
Giant. And if he do keep his Word, I should make a better Choice,
not that I would change this noble Frame of mine, cou'd I but
meet my Match, and keep up the first Race of Man intire: But
since this scanty World affords none such, I to be happy, must
be new created, and then shall expect a wiser Lover.
Feth. Why, what a peevish Titt's this; nay? look ye, Madam, as for
that matter, your Extraordinariness may do what you please- but
'tis not done like a Monster of Honour, when a Man has set his
Heart upon you, to cast him off- Therefore I hope you'll pity a
despairing Lover, and cast down an Eye of Consolation upon me;
for I vow, most Amazonian Princess, I love ye as if Heaven and
Earth wou'd come together.
Dwarf. My Sister will do much, I'm sure, to save the Man that loves
her so passionately- she has a Heart.
Feth. And a swinger 'tis- 'Sbud- she moves like the Royal
Sovereign, and is as long a tacking about. [Aside.
Giant. Then your Religion, Sir.
Feth. Nay, as for that, Madam, we are English, a Nation I thank
God, that stand as little upon Religion as any Nation under the
Sun, unless it be in Contradiction; and at this time have so
many amongst us, a Man knows not which to turn his Hand to-
neither will I stand with your Hugeness for a small matter of
Faith or so- Religion shall break no squares.
Dwarf. I hope, Sir, you are of your Friend's Opinion.
Blunt. My little Spark of a Diamond, I am, I was born a Jew, with
an Aversion to Swines Flesh.
Dwarf. Well, Sir, I shall hasten Seignior Doctor to compleat my
Beauty, by some small Addition, to appear the more grateful to
you.
Blunt. Lady, do not trouble yourself with transitory Parts,
'Dshartlikins thou'rt as handsom as needs be for a Wife.
Dwarf. A little taller, Seignior, wou'd not do amiss, my younger
Sister has got so much the Start of me.
Blunt. In troth she has, and now I think on't, a little taller
wou'd do well for Propagation; I should be loth the Posterity of
the antient Family of the Blunts of Essex should dwindle into
Pigmies or Fairies.
Giant. Well, Seigniors, since you come with our Uncle's liking, we
give ye leave to hope, hope- and be happy-
[They go out with Harlequin.
Feth. Egad, and that's great and gracious-
Enter Willmore and an Operator.
Will. Well, Gentlemen, and how like you the Ladies?
Blunt. Faith, well enough for the first Course, Sir.
Will. The Uncle, by my indeavour, is intirely yours- but whilst
the Baths are preparing, 'twould be well if you would think of
what Age, Shape, and Complexion you would have your Ladies
form'd in.
Feth. Why, may we chuse, Mr. Doctor?
Will. What Beauties you please.
Feth. Then will I have my Giant, Ned, just such another Gentlewoman
as I saw at Church to day- and about some fifteen.
Blunt. Hum, fifteen- I begin to have a plaguy Itch about me too,
towards a handsome Damsel of fifteen; but first let's marry,
lest they should be boiled away in these Baths of Reformation.
Feth. But, Doctor, can you do all this without the help of the
Devil?
Will. Hum, some small Hand he has in the Business? we make an
Exchange with him, give him the clippings of the Giant for so
much of his Store as will serve to build the Dwarf.
Blunt. Why, then mine will be more than three Parts Devil, Mr.
Doctor.
Will. Not so, the Stock is only Devil, the Graft is your own little
Wife inoculated.
Blunt. Well, let the Devil and you agree about this matter as soon
as you please.
Enter Shift as an Operator.
Shift. Sir, there is without a Person of an extraordinary Size
wou'd speak with you.
Will. Admit him.
Enter Harlequin, ushers in Hunt as a Giant.
Feth. Hah- some o'ergrown Rival, on my Life.
[Feth. gets from it.
Will. What the Devil have we here? [Aside.
Hunt. Bezolos mano's, Seignior, I understand there is a Lady whose
Beauty and Proportion can only merit me: I'll say no more- but
shall be grateful to you for your Assistance.
Feth. 'Tis so.
Hunt. The Devil's in't if this does not fright 'em from a farther
Courtship. [Aside.
Will. Fear nothing, Seignior- Seignior, you may try your Chance,
and visit the Ladies. [Talks to Hunt.
Feth. Why, where the Devil could this Monster conceal himself all
this while, that we should neither see nor hear of him?
Blunt. Oh- he lay disguis'd; I have heard of an Army that has done
so.
Feth. Pox, no single House cou'd hold him.
Blunt. No- he dispos'd himself in several parcels up and down the
Town, here a Leg, and there an Arm; and hearing of this proper
Match for him, put himself together to court his fellow Monster.
Feth. Good Lord! I wonder what Religion he's of.
Blunt. Some heathen Papist, by his notable Plots and Contrivances.
Will. 'Tis Hunt, that Rogue- [Aside.
Sir, I confess there is great Power in Sympathy- Conduct him to
the Ladies- [He tries to go in at the Door.
-I am sorry you cannot enter at that low Door, Seignior, I'll
have it broken down-
Hunt. No, Seignior, I can go in at twice.
Feth. How, at twice! what a Pox can he mean?
Will. Oh, Sir, 'tis a frequent thing by way of Inchantment
[Hunt being all Doublet, leaps off from another
Man who is all Breeches, and goes out;
Breeches follows stalking.
Feth. Oh Pox, Mr. Doctor, this must be the Devil.
Will. Oh fie, Sir, the Devil! no 'tis all done inchanted Girdle-
These damn'd Rascals will spoil all by too gross an Imposition
on the Fools. [Aside.
Feth. This is the Devil, Ned, that's certain- But hark ye, Mr.
Doctor, I hope I shall not have my Mistress inchanted from me by
this inchanted Rival, hah?
Will. Oh, no, Sir, the Inquisition will never let 'em marry, for
fear of a Race of Giants, 'twill be worse than the Invasion of
the Moors, or the French: but go- think of your Mistresses Names
and Ages, here's Company, and you would not be seen.
[Ex. Blunt and Feth.
Enter La Nuche and Aurelia; Will. bows to her.
La Nu. Sir, the Fame of your excellent Knowledge, and what you said
to me this day; has given me a Curiosity to learn my Fate, at
least that Fate you threatened.
Will. Madam, from the Oracle in the Box you may be resolved any
Question- [Leads her to the Table,
where stands a Box full of Balls; he stares on her.
-How lovely every absent minute makes her- Madam, be pleas'd to
draw from out this Box what Ball you will.
[She draws, he takes it, and gazes on her and on it.
Madam, upon this little Globe is character'd your Fate and
Fortune; the History of your Life to come and past- first,
Madam- you're- a Whore.
La Nu. A very plain beginning.
Will. My Art speaks simple Truth; the Moon is your Ascendent, that
covetous Planet that borrows all her Light, and is in opposition
still to Venus; and Interest more prevails with you than Love:
yet here I find a cross- intruding Line- that does inform me-
you have an Itch that way, but Interest still opposes: you are a
slavish mercenary Prostitute.
La Nu. Your Art is so, tho call'd divine, and all the Universe is
sway'd by Interest: and would you wish this Beauty which adorns
me, should be dispos'd about for Charity? Proceed and speak more
Reason.
Will. But Venus here gets the Ascent again, and spite of- Interest,
spite of all Aversion, will make you doat upon a Man-
[Still looking on, and turning the Ball.
Wild, fickle, restless, faithless as the Winds!- a Man of Arms
he is- and by this Line- a Captain- [Looking on her.
for Mars and Venus were in conjunction at his Birth- and Love
and War's his business.
La Nu. There thou hast toucht my Heart, and spoke so true, that
all thou say'st I shall receive as Oracle. Well, grant I love,
that shall not make me yield.
Will. I must confess you're ruin'd if you yield, and yet not all
your Pride, not all your Vows, your Wit, your Resolution, or
your Cunning, can hinder him from conquering absolutely: your
Stars are fixt, and Fate irrevocable.
La Nu. No,- I will controul my Stars and Inclinations; and tho I
love him more than Power or Interest, I will be Mistress of my
fixt Resolves- One Question more- Does this same Captain, this
wild happy Man love me?
Will. I do not- find- it here- only a possibility incourag'd by
your Love- Oh that you cou'd resist- but you are destin'd his,
and to be ruin'd.
[Sighs, and looks on her, she grows in a Rage.
La Nu. Why do you tell me this? I am betray'd, and every caution
blows my kindling Flame- hold- tell me no more- I might have
guess'd my Fate, from my own Soul have guest it- but yet I
will be brave, I will resist in spite of Inclinations, Stars,
or Devils.
Will. Strive not, fair Creature, with the Net that holds you,
you'll but intangle more. Alas! you must submit and be undone.
La Nu. Damn your false Art- had he but lov'd me too, it had excus'd
the Malice of my Stars.
Will. Indeed, his Love is doubtful; for here- I trace him in a new
pursuit- which if you can this Night prevent, perhaps you fix
him.
La Nu. Hah, pursuing a new Mistress! there thou hast met the little
Resolution I had left, and dasht it into nothing- but I have
vow'd Allegiance to my Interest- Curse on my Stars, they cou'd
not give me Love where that might be advanc'd- I'll hear no
more. [Gives him Money. Enter Shift.
Enter Shift.
Shift. Sir, there are several Strangers arriv'd, who talk of the
old Oracle. How will you receive 'em?
Will. I've business now, and must be excus'd a while.- Thus far-
I'm well; but I may tell my Tale so often o'er, till, like the
Trick of Love, I spoil the pleasure by the repetition.- Now I'll
uncase, and see what Effects my Art has wrought on La Nuche, for
she's the promis'd Good, the Philosophick Treasure that
terminates my Toil and Industry. Wait you here.
[Ex. Will.
Enter Ariadne in Mens Clothes, with Lucia so drest,
and other Strangers.
Aria. How now, Seignior Operator, where's this renowned Man of Arts
and Sciences, this Don of Wonders?- hah! may a Man have a
Pistole's Worth or two of his Tricks? will he shew, Seignor?
Shift. Whatever you dare see, Sir.
Aria. And I dare see the greatest Bug-bear he can conjure up, my
Mistress's Face in a Glass excepted.
Shift. That he can shew, Sir, but is now busied in weighty Affairs
with a Grandee.
Aria. Pox, must we wait the Leisure of formal Grandees and
Statesmen- ha, who's this?- the lovely Conqueress of my Heart,
La Nuche. [Goes to her, she is talking with Aurel.
La Nu. What foolish thing art thou?
Aria. Nay, do not frown, nor fly; for if you do, I must arrest you,
fair one.
La Nu. At whose Suit, pray?
Aria. At Love's- you have stol'n a Heart of mine, and us'd it
scurvily.
La Nu. By what marks do you know the Toy, that I may be no longer
troubled with it?
Aria. By a fresh Wound, which toucht by her that gave it bleeds
anew, a Heart all over kind and amorous.
La Nu. When was this pretty Robbery committed?
Aria. To day, most sacrilegiously, at Church, where you debauch'd
my Zeal; and when I wou'd have pray'd, your Eyes had put the
Change upon my Tongue, and made it utter Railings: Heav'n
forgive ye!
La Nu. You are the gayest thing without a Heart, I ever saw.
Aria. I scorn to flinch for a bare Wound or two; nor is he routed
that has lost the day, he may again rally, renew the Fight, and
vanquish.
La Nu. You have a good opinion of that Beauty, which I find not so
forcible, nor that fond Prattle uttered with such Confidence.
Aria. But I have Quality and Fortune too.
La Nu. So had you need. I should have guest the first by your
pertness; for your saucy thing of Quality acts the Man as
impudently at fourteen, as another at thirty: nor is there any
thing so hateful as to hear it talk of Love, Women and Drinking;
nay, to see it marry too at that Age, and get itself a Play-
fellow in its Son and Heir.
Aria. This Satyr on my Youth shall never put me out of countenance,
or make me think you wish me one day older; and egad, I'll
warrant them that tries me, shall find me ne'er an hour too
young.
La Nu. You mistake my Humour, I hate the Person of a fair conceited
Boy.
Enter Willmore drest, singing.
Will. Vole, vole dans cette Cage,
Petite Oyseau dans cet bocage.
-How now, Fool, where's the Doctor?
Shift. A little busy, Sir.
Will. Call him, I am in haste, and come to cheapen the Price of
Monster.
Shift. As how, Sir?
Will. In an honourable way, I will lawfully marry one of 'em, and
have pitcht upon the Giant; I'll bid as fair as any Man.
Shift. No doubt but you will speed, Sir: please you, Sir, to walk
in.
Will. I'll follow- Vole, vole dans cette Cage, &c.
Luc. Why, 'tis the Captain, Madam- [Aside to Aria.
La Nu. Hah- marry- harkye, Sir,- a word, pray.
[As he is going out she pulls him.
Will. Your Servant, Madam, your Servant- Vole, vole, &c.
[Puts his Hat off carelesly, and walks by, going out.
Luc. And to be marry'd, mark that.
Aria. Then there's one doubt over, I'm glad he is not married.
La Nu. Come back- Death, I shall burst with Anger- this Coldness
blows my Flame, which if once visible, makes him a Tyrant-
Will. Fool, what's a Clock, fool? this noise hinders me from
hearing it strike.
[Shakes his Pockets, and walks up and down.
La Nu. A blessed sound, if no Hue and Cry pursue it.
-what- you are resolv'd then upon this notable Exploit?
Will. What Exploit, good Madam?
La Nu. Why, marrying of a Monster, and an ugly Monster.
Will. Yes faith, Child, here stands the bold Knight, that singly,
and unarm'd, designs to enter the List with Thogogandiga the
Giant; a good Sword will defend a worse cause than an ugly Wife.
I know no danger worse than fighting for my Living, and I have
don't this dozen years for Bread.
La Nu. This is the common trick of all Rogues, when they have done
an ill thing to face it out.
Will. An ill thing- your Pardon, Sweet-heart, compare it but to
Banishment, a frozen Sentry with brown George and Spanish Pay;
and if it be not better to be Master of a Monster, than Slave to
a damn'd Commonwealth- I submit- and since my Fortune has thrown
this good in my way-
La Nu. You'll not be so ungrateful to refuse it; besides then you
may hope to sleep again, without dreaming of Famine, or the
Sword, two Plagues a Soldier of Fortune is subject to.
Will. Besides Cashiering, a third Plague.
La Nu. Still unconcern'd!- you call me mercenary, but I would
starve e'er suffer my self to be possest by a thing of Horror.
Will. You lye, you would by any thing of Horror: yet these things
of Horror have Beauties too, Beauties thou canst not boast of,
Beauties that will not fade; Diamonds to supply the lustre of
their Eyes, and Gold the brightness of their Hair, a well-got
Million to atone for Shape, and Orient Pearls, more white, more
plump and smooth, than that fair Body Men so languish for, and
thou hast set such Price on.
Aria. I like not this so well, 'tis a trick to make her jealous.
Will. Their Hands too have their Beauties, whose very mark finds
credit and respect, their Bills are current o'er the Universe;
besides these, you shall see waiting at my Door, four Footmen, a
Velvet Coach, with Six Flanders Beauties more: And are not these
most comely Virtues in a Soldier's Wife, in this most wicked
peaceable Age?
Luc. He's poor too, there's another comfort. [Aside.
Aria. The most incouraging one I have met with yet.
Will. Pox on't, I grow weary of this virtuous Poverty. There goes a
gallant Fellow, says one, but gives him not an Onion; the Women
too, faith, 'tis a handsom Gentleman, but the Devil a Kiss he
gets gratis.
Aria. Oh, how I long to undeceive him of that Error.
La Nu. He speaks not of me; sure he knows me not. [Aside.
Will. No, Child, Money speaks sense in a Language all Nations
understand, 'tis Beauty, Wit, Courage, Honour, and undisputable
Reason- see the virtue of a Wager, that new philosophical way
lately found out of deciding all hard Questions- Socrates,
without ready Money to lay down, must yield.
Aria. Well, I must have this gallant Fellow. [Aside.
La. Nu. Sure he has forgot this trival thing.
Will. -Even thou- who seest me dying unregarded, wou'd then be fond
and kind, and flatter me. [Soft tone.
By Heaven, I'll hate thee then; nay, I will marry to be rich to
hate thee: the worst of that, is but to suffer nine Days
Wonderment. Is not that better than an Age of Scorn from a proud
faithless Beauty?
Lu. Nu. Oh, there's Resentment left- why, yes faith, such a Wedding
would give the Town diversion: we should have a lamentable Ditty
made on it, it, entitled, The Captain's Wedding, with the
doleful Relation of his being over-laid by an o'er-grown
Monster.
Will. I'll warrant ye I escape that as sure as cuckolding; for I
would fain see that hardy Wight that dares attempt my Lady
Bright, either by Force or Flattery.
La Nu. So, then you intend to bed her?
Will. Yes faith, and beget a Race of Heroes, the Mother's Form with
all the Father's Qualities.
La Nu. Faith, such a Brood may prove a pretty Livelihood for a poor
decay'd Officer; you may chance to get a Patent to shew 'em in
England, that Nation of Change and Novelty.
Will. A provision old Carlo cannot make for you against the
abandon'd day.
La Nu. He can supply the want of Issue a better way; and tho he be
not so fine a fellow as your self, he's a better Friend, he can
keep a Mistress: give me a Man can feed and clothe me, as well
as hug and all to bekiss me, and tho his Sword be not so good as
yours, his Bond's worth a thousand Captains. This will not do,
I'll try what Jealousy will do. [Aside.
Your Servant, Captain- your Hand, Sir.
[Takes Ariadne by the Hand.
Will. Hah, what new Coxcomb's that- hold, Sir-
[Takes her from him.
Aria. What would you, Sir, ought with this Lady?
Will. Yes, that which thy Youth will only let thee guess at-
this- Child, is Man's Meat; there are other Toys for Children.
[Offers to lead her off.
La Nu. Oh insolent! and whither would'st thou lead me?
Will. Only out of harm's way, Child, here are pretty near
Conveniences within: the Doctor will be civil- 'tis part of his
Calling- Your Servant, Sir- [Going off with her.
Aria. I must huff now, tho I may chance to be beaten- come back- or
I have something here that will oblige ye to't.
[Laying his hand on his Sword.
Will. Yes faith, thou'rt a pretty Youth; but at this time I've more
occasion for a thing in Petticoats- go home, and do not walk the
Streets so much; that tempting Face of thine will debauch the
grave men of business, and make the Magistrates lust after
Wickedness.
Aria. You are a scurvy Fellow, Sir. [Going to draw.
Will. Keep in your Sword, for fear it cut your Fingers, Child.
Aria. So 'twill your Throat, Sir- here's Company coming that will
part us, and I'll venture to draw.
[Draws, Will. draws.
Enter Beaumond.
Beau. Hold, hold- hah, Willmore! thou Man of constant mischief,
what's the matter?
La Nu. Beaumond! undone!
Aria. -Beaumond!-
Will. Why, here's a young Spark will take my Lady Bright from me;
the unmanner'd Hot-spur would not have patience till I had
finish'd my small Affair with her. [Puts up his Sword.
Aria. Death, he'll know me- Sir, you see we are prevented.
[Draws him aside.
-or- [Seems to talk to him, Beau. gazes on La Nuche, who has
pull'd down her Veil.
Beau. 'Tis she! Madam, this Veil's too thin to hide the perjur'd
Beauty underneath. Oh, have I been searching thee, with all the
diligence of impatient Love, and am I thus rewarded, to find
thee here incompass'd round with Strangers, fighting, who first
should take my right away?- Gods! take your Reason back, take
all your Love; for easy Man's unworthy of the Blessings.
Will. Harkye, Harry- the- Woman- the almighty Whore- thou told'st
me of to day.
Beau. Death, do'st thou mock my Grief- unhand me strait, for tho I
cannot blame thee, I must hate thee.
[Goes out.
Will. What the Devil ails he?
Aria. You will be sure to come.
Will. At night in the Piazza; I have an Assignation with a Woman,
that once dispatch'd, I will not fail ye, Sir.
Luc. And will you leave him with her?
Aria. Oh, yes, he'll be ne'er the worse for my use when he has done
with her.
[Ex. Luc. and Aria. Will. looks with scorn on La Nuche.
Will. Now you may go o'ertake him, lie with him- and ruin him: the
Fool was made for such a Destiny- if he escapes my Sword.
[He offers to go.
La Nu. I must prevent his visit to this Woman- but dare not tell
him so. [Aside.
-I would not have ye meet this angry Youth.
Will. Oh, you would preserve him for a farther use.
La Nu. Stay- you must not fight- by Heaven, I cannot see- that
Bosom- wounded. [Turns and weeps.
Will. Hah! weep'st thou? curse me when I refuse a faith to that
obliging Language of thy Eyes- Oh give me one proof more, and
after that, thou conquerest all my Soul; Thy Eyes speak Love-
come, let us in, my Dear, e'er the bright Fire allays that
warms my Heart. [Goes to lead her out.
La Nu. Your Love grows rude, and saucily demands it. [Flings away.
Will. Love knows no Ceremony, no respect when once approacht so
near the happy minute.
La Nu. What desperate easiness have you seen in me, or what
mistaken merit in your self, should make you so ridiculously
vain, to think I'd give my self to such a Wretch, one fal'n even
to the last degree of Poverty, whilst all the World is prostrate
at my Feet, whence I might chuse the Brave, the Great, the Rich?
[He stands spitefully gazing at her.
-Still as he fires, I find my Pride augment, and when he cools
I burn. [Aside.
Will. Death, thou'rt a- vain, conceited, taudry Jilt, who wou'st
draw me in as Rooks their Cullies do, to make me venture all my
stock of Love, and then you turn me out despis'd and poor-
[Offers to go.
La Nu. You think you're gone now-
Will. Not all thy Arts nor Charms shall hold me longer.
La Nu. I must submit- and can you part thus from me?- [Pulls him.
Will. I can- nay, by Heaven, I will not turn, nor look at thee.
No, when I do, or trust that faithless Tongue again- may I be-
La Nu. Oh do not swear-
Will. Ever curst- [Breaks from her, she holds him.
La Nu. You shall not go- Plague of this needles Pride. [Aside.
-stay- and I'll follow all the dictates of my Love.
Will. Oh never hope to flatter me to faith again.
[His back to her, she holding him.
La Nu. I must, I will; what wou'd you have me do?
Will. [turning softly to her.] Never- deceive me more, it may be
fatal to wind me up to an impatient height, then dash my eager
Hopes. [Sighing.
Forgive my roughness- and be kind, La Nuche, I know thou wo't-
La Nu. Will you then be ever kind and true?
Will. Ask thy own Charms, and to confirm thee more, yield and
disarm me quite.
La Nu. Will you not marry then? for tho you never can be mine that
way, I cannot think that you should be another's.
Will. No more delays, by Heaven, 'twas but a trick.
La Nu. And will you never see that Woman neither, whom you're this
Night to visit?
Will. Damn all the rest of thy weak Sex, when thou look'st thus,
and art so soft and charming.
[Offers to lead her out.
La Nu. Sancho- my Coach. [Turns in scorn.
Will. Take heed, what mean ye?
La Nu. Not to be pointed at by all the envying Women of the Town,
who'l laugh and cry, Is this the high-priz'd Lady, now fall'n so
low, to doat upon a Captain? a poor disbanded Captain? defend me
from that Infamy.
Will. Now all the Plagues- but yet I will not curse thee, 'tis lost
on thee, for thou art destin'd damn'd. [Going out.
La Nu. Whither so fast?
Will. Why,- I am so indifferent grown, that I can tell thee now-
to a Woman, young, fair and honest; she'll be kind and thankful-
farewel, Jilt- now should'st thou die for one sight more of me,
thou should'st not ha't; nay, should'st thou sacrifice all thou
hast couzen'd other Coxcombs of, to buy one single visit, I am
so proud, by Heaven, thou shouldst not have it- To grieve thee
more, see here, insatiate Woman [Shews her a Purse or hands full
of Gold] the Charm that makes me lovely in thine Eyes: it had
all been thine hadst thou not basely bargain'd with me, now 'tis
the Prize of some well-meaning Whore, whose Modesty will trust
my Generosity.
[Goes out.
La Nu. Now I cou'd rave, t'have lost an opportunity which industry
nor chance can give again- when on the yielding point, a cursed
fit of Pride comes cross my Soul, and stops the kind Career-
I'll follow him, yes I'll follow him, even to the Arms of her to
whom he's gone.
Aur. Madam, tis dark, and we may meet with Insolence.
La Nu. No matter: Sancho, let the Coach go home, and do you follow
me-
Women may boast their Honour and their Pride,
But Love soon lays those feebler Powr's aside.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. The Street, or Backside of the Piazza dark.
Enter Willmore alone.
Will. A Pox upon this Woman that has jilted me, and I for being a
fond believing Puppy to be in earnest with so great a Devil.
Where be these Coxcombs too? this Blunt and Fetherfool? when a
Man needs 'em not, they are plaguing him with their unseasonable
Jests- could I but light on them, I would be very drunk to
night- but first I'll try my Fortune with this Woman- let me
see- hereabouts is the Door. [Gropes about for the Door.
Enter Beaumond, follow'd by La Nuche, and Sancho.
La Nu. 'Tis he, I know it by his often and uneasy pauses-
Beau. And shall I home and sleep upon my injury, whilst this more
happy Rover takes my right away?- no, damn me then for a cold
senseless Coward. [Pauses and pulls out a Key.
Will. This Damsel, by the part o'th' Town she lives in, shou'd be
of Quality, and therefore can have no dishonest design on me,
it must be right down substantial Love, that's certain.
Beau. Yet I'll in and arm my self for the Encounter, for 'twill be
rough between us, tho we're Friends.
[Groping about, finds the Door.
Will. Oh, 'tis this I'm sure, because the Door is open.
Beau. Hah- who's there?-
[Beau. advances to unlock the Door, runs against Will. draws.
Will. That Voice is of Authority, some Husband, Lover, or a
Brother, on my Life- this is a Nation of a word and a blow,
therefore I'll betake me to Toledo- [Draws.
[Willmore in drawing hits his Sword against that of
Beaumond, who turns and fights, La Nuche runs
into the Garden frighted.
Beau. Hah, are you there?
Sanc. I'll draw in defence of the Captain-
[Sancho fights for Beau. and beats out Will.
Will. Hah, two to one? [Turns and goes in.
Beau. The Garden Door clapt to; sure he's got in; nay, then I have
him sure.
The Scene changes to a Garden, La Nuche in it; to her Beau.
who takes hold of her sleeve.
La Nu. Heavens, where am I?
Beau. Hah-a Woman! and by these Jewels- should be Ariadne.
[feels.]'Tis so! Death, are all Women false?
[She struggles to get away, he holds her.
-Oh, tis in vain thou fly'st, thy Infamy will stay behind thee
still.
La Nu. Hah, 'tis Beaumond's Voice!-
Now for an Art to turn the trick upon him; I must not lose his
Friendship. [Aside.
Enter Willmore softly, peeping behind.
Will. What a Devil have we here, more Mischief yet;- hah- my Woman
with a Man- I shall spoil all- I ever had an excellent knack of
doing so.
Beau. Oh Modesty, where art thou? Is this the effect of all your
put on Jealousy, that Mask to hide your own new falshood in?
New!- by Heaven, I believe thou'rt old in cunning, that couldst
contrive, so near thy Wedding-night, this, to deprive me of the
Rites of Love.
La Nu. Hah, what says he? [Aside.
Will. How, a Maid, and young, and to be marry'd too! a rare Wench
this to contrive Matters so conveniently: Oh, for some Mischief
now to send him neatly off. [Aside.
Beau. Now you are silent; but you could talk to day loudly of
Virtue, and upbraid my Vice: oh how you hated a young keeping
Husband, whom neither Beauty nor Honour in a Wife cou'd oblige
to reason- oh, damn your Honour, 'tis that's the sly pretence
of all your domineering insolent Wives- Death- what thou see in
me, should make thee think that I would be a tame contented
Cuckold? [Going, she holds him.
La Nu. I must not lose this lavish loving Fool- [Aside.
Will. So, I hope he will be civil and withdraw, and leave me in
possession-
Beau. No, tho my Fortune should depend on thee; nay, all my hope of
future happiness- by Heaven, I scorn to marry thee, unless thou
couldst convince me thou wer't honest- a Whore!- Death, how it
cools my Blood-
Will. And fires mine extremely-
La Nu. Nay, then I am provok'd tho I spoil all- [Aside.
And is a Whore a thing so much despis'd?
Turn back, thou false forsworn- turn back, and blush at thy
mistaken folly. [He stands amaz'd.
Beau. La Nuche!
Enter Aria. peeping, advancing cautiously undrest, Luc.
following.
Aria. Oh, he is here- Lucia, attend me in the Orange-grove-
[Ex. Lucia.
Hah, a Woman with him!
Will. Hum- what have we here? another Damsel?- she's gay too, and
seems young and handsom- sure one of these will fall to my
share; no matter which, so I am sure of one.
La Nu. Who's silent now? are you struck dumb with Guilt? thou shame
to noble Love; thou scandal to all brave Debauchery, thou Fop of
Fortune; thou slavish Heir to Estate and Wife, born rich and
damn'd to Matrimony.
Will. Egad, a noble Wench- I am divided yet.
La Nu. Thou formal Ass disguis'd in generous Leudness, see- when
the Vizor's off, how sneakingly that empty form appears- Nay
'tis thy own- Make much on't, marry with it, and be damn'd.
[Offers to go.
Will. I hope she'll beat him for suspecting her.
[He holds her, she turns.
Aria. Hah- who the Devil can these be?
La Nu. What silly honest Fool did you mistake me for? what
senseless modest thing? Death, am I grown so despicable? have I
deserv'd no better from thy Love than to be taken for a virtuous
Changeling?
Will. Egad, 'twas an Affront. [Aside.
La Nu. I'm glad I've found thee out to be an errant Coxcomb, one
that esteems a Woman for being chaste forsooth! 'Sheart, I shall
have thee call me pious shortly, a most- religious Matron!
Will. Egad, she has reason- [aside.
Beau. Forgive me- for I took ye- for another. [Sighing.
La Nu. Oh did you so? it seems you keep fine Company the while-
Death, that I should e'er be seen with such a vile Dissembler,
with one so vain, so dull and so impertinent, as can be
entertain'd by honest Women!
Will. A Heavenly Soul, and to my Wish, were I but sure of her.
Beau. Oh you do wondrous well t'accuse me first! yes, I am a
Coxcomb- a confounded one, to doat upon so false a Prostitute;
nay to love seriously, and tell it too: yet such an amorous
Coxcomb I was born, to hate the Enjoyment of the loveliest
Woman, without I have the Heart: the fond soft Prattle, and the
lolling Dalliance, the Frowns, the little Quarrels, and the kind
Degrees of making Peace again, are Joys which I prefer to all
the sensual, whilst I endeavour to forget the Whore, and pay my
Vows to Wit, to Youth and Beauty.
Aria. Now hang me, if it be not Beaumond.
Beau. Would any Devil less than common Woman have serv'd me as thou
didst? say, was not this my Night? my paid for Night? my own by
right of Bargain, and by Love? and hast not thou deceiv'd me for
a Stranger?
Will. So- make me thankful, then she will be kind. [Hugs himself.
Beau. -Was this done like a Whore of Honour think ye? and would not
such an Injury make me forswear all Joys of Womankind, and marry
in mere spite?
La Nu. Why where had been the Crime had I been kind?
Beau. Thou dost confess it then.
La Nu. Why not?
Beau. Those Bills of Love the oftner paid and drawn, make Women
better Merchants than Lovers.
La Nu. And 'tis the better Trade.
Will. Oh Pox, there she dasht all again. I find they calm upon't,
and will agree, therefore I'll bear up to this small Frigate and
lay her aboard. [Goes to Ariadne.
La Nu. However I'm glad the Vizor's off; you might have fool'd me
on, and sworn I was the only Conqueror of your Heart, had not
Good-nature made me follow you, to undeceive your false
Suspicions of me: How have you sworn never to marry? how rail'd
at Wives, and satir'd Fools oblig'd to Wedlock? And now at last,
to thy eternal Shame, thou hast betray'd thy self to be a most
pernicious honourable Lover, a perjur'd- honest- nay, a very
Husband. [Turns away, he holds her.
Aria. Hah, sure 'tis the Captain.
Will. Prithee, Child, let's leave 'em to themselves, they'l agree
matters I'll warrant them when they are alone; and let us try
how Love and Good-nature will provide for us.
Aria. Sure he cannot know me?- Us!- pray who are you, and who am I?
Will. Why look ye, Child, I am a very honest civil Fellow, for my
part, and thou'rt a Woman for thine; and I desire to know no
more at present.
Aria. 'Tis he, and knows not me to be the same he appointed to day-
Sir, pursue that Path on your right Hand, that Grove of Orange-
Trees, and I'll follow you immediately.
Will. Kind and civil- prithee make haste, dear Child.
[Exit. Will.
Beau. And did you come to call me back again? [Lovingly.
La Nu. No matter, you are to be marry'd, Sir-
Beau. No more, 'tis true, to please my Uncle, I have talk'd of some
such thing; but I'll pursue it no farther, so thou wilt yet be
mine, and mine intirely- I hate this Ariadne- for a Wife- by
Heaven I do.
Aria. A very plain Confession. [Claps him on the back.
Beau. Ariadne!
La Nu. I'm glad of this, now I shall be rid of him. [Aside.
-How is't, Sir? I see you struggle hard 'twixt Love and Honour,
and I'll resign my Place-
[Offers to go, Ariadne pulls her back.
Aria. Hold, if she take him not away, I shall disappoint my Man-
faith, I'll not be out-done in Generosity.
[Gives him to La Nuche.
Here- Love deserves him best- and I resign him- Pox on't I'm
honest, tho that's no fault of mine; 'twas Fortune who has made
a worse Exchange, and you and I should suit most damnably
together. [To Beau.
Beau. I am sure there's something in the Wind, she being in the
Garden, and the Door left open. [Aside.
-Yes, I believe you are willing enough to part with me, when you
expect another you like better.
Aria. I'm glad I was before-hand with you then.
Beau. Very good, and the Door was left open to give admittance to a
Lover.
Aria. 'Tis visible it was to let one in to you, false as you are.
La Nu. Faith, Madam, you mistake my Constitution, my Beauty and my
Business is only to be belov'd not to love; I leave that Slavery
for you Women of Quality, who must invite, or die without the
Blessing; for likely the Fool you make choice of wants Wit or
Confidence to ask first; you are fain to whistle before the Dogs
will fetch and carry, and then too they approach by stealth: and
having done the Drudgery, the submissive Curs are turn'd out for
fear of dirtying your Apartment, or that the Mungrils should
scandalize ye; whilst all my Lovers of the noble kind throng to
adore and fill my Presence daily, gay as if each were triumphing
for Victory.
Aria. Ay this is something; what a poor sneaking thing an honest
Woman is!
La Nu. And if we chance to love still, there's a difference, your
Hours of Love are like the Deeds of Darkness, and mine like
cheerful Birds in open Day.
Aria. You may, you have no Honour to lose.
La Nu. Or if I had, why should I double the Sin by Hypocrisy?
[Lucia squeaks within, crying, help, help.
Aria. Heavens, that's Lucia's Voice.
Beau. Hah, more caterwauling?
Enter Lucia in haste.
Luc. Oh, Madam, we're undone; and, Sir, for Heaven's sake do you
retire.
Beau. What's the matter?
Luc. Oh you have brought the most villainous mad Friend with you-
he found me sitting on a Bank- and did so ruffle me.
Aria. Death, she takes Beaumond for the Stranger, and will ruin me.
Luc. Nay, made love so loud, that my Lord your Father-in-law, who
was in his Cabinet, heard us from the Orange-Grove, and has sent
to search the Garden- and should he find a Stranger with you- do
but you retire, Sir, and all's well yet. [To Beaumond.
Aria. The Devil's in her Tongue. [Aside.
Luc. For if Mr. Beaumond be in the House, we shall have the Devil
to do with his Jealousy.
Aria. So, there 'tis out.
Beau. She takes me for another- I am jilted every where- what
Friend?- I brought none with me.
-Madam, do you retire- [To La Nuche.
La Nu. Glad of my Freedom too- [Goes out.
[A clashing of Swords within. Enter Willm. fighting,
prest back by three or four Men, and Abevile,
Aria. and Luc. run out.
Beau. Hah, set on by odds; hold, tho thou be'st my Rival, I will
free thee, on condition thou wilt meet me to morrow morning in
the Piazza by day break.
[Puts himself between their Swords, and speaks to Will. aside.
Will. By Heaven I'll do it.
Beau. Retire in safety then, you have your pass.
Abev. Fall on, fall on, the number is increas'd. [Fall on Beau.
Beau. Rascals, do you not know me?
[Falls in with 'em and heats them back, and goes out with them.
Will. Nay, and you be so well acquainted, I'll leave you-
unfortunate still I am; my own well meaning, but ill Management,
is my eternal Foe: Plague on 'em, they have wounded me- yet not
one drop of Blood's departed from me that warm'd my Heart for
Woman, and I'm not willing to quit this Fairy-ground till some
kind Devil have been civil to me.
Enter Ariadne and Lucia.
Aria. I say, 'tis he: thou'st made so many dull Mistakes to Night,
thou darest not trust thy Senses when they're true- How do you,
Sir?
Will. That Voice has Comfort in't, for 'tis a Woman's: hah, more
Interruption?
Aria. A little this way, Sir.
[Ex. Aria. and Will. into the Garden.
Enter Beaumond, Abevile in a submissive Posture.
Beau. No more excuses- By all these Circumstances, I know this
Ariadne is a Gipsy. What difference then between a money-taking
Mistress and her that gives her Love? only perhaps this sins
the closer by't, and talks of Honour more: What Fool wou'd be a
Slave to empty Name, or value Woman for dissembling well? I'll
to La Nuche- the honester o'th' two- Abevile- get me my Musick
ready, and attend me at La Nuche's.
[Ex. severally.
Luc. He's gone, and to his Mistress too.
Enter Ariadne pursu'd by Willmore.
Will. My little Daphne, 'tis in vain to fly, unless like her, you
cou'd be chang'd into a Tree: Apollo's self pursu'd not with
more eager Fire than I. [Holds her.
Aria. Will you not grant a Parly e'er I yield?
Will. I'm better at a Storm.
Aria. Besides, you're wounded too.
Will. Oh leave those Wounds of Honour to my Surgeon, thy Business
is to cure those of Love. Your true bred Soldier ever fights
with the more heat for a Wound or two.
Aria. Hardly in Venus' Wars.
Will. Her self ne'er thought so when she snatcht her Joys between
the rough Encounters of the God of War. Come, let's pursue the
Business we came for: See the kind Night invites, and all the
ruffling Winds are husht and still, only the Zephirs spread
their tender Wings, courting in gentle Murmurs the gay Boughs;
'twas in a Night like this, Diana taught the Mysteries of Love
to the fair Boy Endymion. I am plaguy full of History and Simile
tonight.
Aria. You see how well he far'd for being modest.
Will. He might be modest, but 'twas not over-civil to put her
Goddessship to asking first; thou seest I'm better bred- Come
let's haste to silent Grots that attend us, dark Groves where
none can see, and murmuring Fountains.
Aria. Stay, let me consider first, you are a Stranger, inconstant
too as Island Winds, and every day are fighting for your
Mistresses, of which you've had at least four since I saw you
first, which is not a whole day.
Will. I grant ye, before I was a Lover I ran at random, but I'll
take up now, be a patient Man, and keep to one Woman a Month.
Aria. A Month!
Will. And a fair Reason, Child; time was, I wou'd have worn one
Shirt, or one pair of Shoos so long as have let the Sun set
twice upon the same Sin: but see the Power of Love; thou hast
bewitched me, that's certain.
Aria. Have a care of giving me the ascendent over ye, for fear I
make ye marry me.
Will. Hold, I bar that cast, Child; no, I'm none of those Spirits
that can be conjur'd into a Wedding-ring, and dance in the dull
matrimonial Circle all my Days.
Aria. But what think you of a hundred thousand Crowns, and a Beauty
of sixteen?
Will. As of most admirable Blessings: but harkye, Child, I am
plaguily afraid thou'rt, some scurvy honest thing of Quality by
these odd Questions of thine, and hast some wicked Design upon
my Body.
Aria. What, to have and to hold I'll warrant.- No Faith, Sir, Maids
of my Quality expect better Jointures than a Buff-coat, Scarf
and Feather: such Portions as mine are better Ornaments in a
Family than a Captain and his Commission.
Will. Why well said, now thou hast explain'd thy self like a Woman
of Honour- Come, come, let's away.
Aria. Explain my self! How mean ye?
Will. -Thou say'st I am not fit to marry thee- and I believe this
Assignation was not made to tell me so, nor yet to hear me
whistle to the Birds.
Aria. Faith no. I saw you, lik'd ye, and had a mind to ye.
Will. Ay, Child-
Aria. In short, I took ye for a Man of Honour.
Will. Nay, if I tell the Devil take me.
Aria. I am a Virgin in Distress.
Will. Poor Heart.
Aria. To be marry'd within a Day or two to one I like not.
Will. Hum- and therefore wouldst dispose of a small Virgin Treasure
(too good for silly Husbands) in a Friend's Hands: faith, Child-
I was ever a good religious charitable Christian, and shall
acquit my self as honestly and piously in this Affair as becomes
a Gentleman.
Enter Abevile with Musick.
Abev. Come away, are ye all arm'd for the Business?
Aria. Hah, arm'd! we are surpriz'd again.
Will. Fear not. [Draws.
Aria. Oh God, Sir, haste away, you are already wounded: but I
conjure you, as a Man of Honour, be here at the Garden Gate to
night again, and bring a Friend, in case of Danger, with you;
and if possible I'll put my self into your Hands, for this
Night's Work has ruin'd me-
[Speaking quick, and pushing him forwards runs off.
Abev. My Master sure not gone yet- [Peeping advancing.
Will. Rascals, tho you are odds, you'll find hot Work in
vanquishing. [Falls on 'em.
Abev. Hold, Sir, I am your Page. Do you not know me? and these the
Musick you commanded- shall I carry em where you order'd, Sir?
Will. They take me for some other, this was lucky. [Aside.
O, aye- 'tis well- I'll follow- but whither?- Plague of my dull
Mistakes, the Woman's gone- yet stay- [Calls 'em.
For now I think on't, this Mistake may help me to another- stay-
I must dispose of this mad Fire about me, which all these
Disappointments cannot lay- Oh for some young kind Sinner in the
nick- How I cou'd souse upon her like a Bird of Prey, and worry
her with Kindness. [Aside.-
Go on, I follow.
[Exeunt.
Scene changes to La Nuche's House.
Enter Petronella and Aurelia with Light.
Aur. Well, the Stranger is in Bed, and most impatiently expects our
Patrona, who is not yet returned.
Pet. Curse of this Love! I know she's in pursuit of this Rover,
this English Piece of Impudence; Pox on 'em, I know nothing good
in the whole Race of 'em, but giving all to their Shirts when
they're drunk. What shall we do, Aurelia? This Stranger must
not be put off, nor Carlo neither, who has fin'd again as if for
a new Maidenhead.
Aur. You are so covetous, you might have put 'em off, but now 'tis
too late.
Pet. Put off! Are these Fools to be put off think ye? a fine Fop
Englishman, and an old doating Grandee?- No, I cou'd put the old
trick on 'em still, had she been here but to have entertain'd
'em: but hark, one knocks, 'tis Carlo on my Life-
Enter Carlo, gives Petronella Gold.
Car. Let this plead for me.
Pet. Sweet Don, you are the most eloquent Person.
Car. I would regale to night- I know it is not mine, but I've sent
five hundred Crowns to purchase it, because I saw another
bargaining for't; and Persons of my Quality must not be
refus'd: you apprehend me.
Pet. Most rightly- that was the Reason then she came so out of
Humour home- and is gone to Bed in such a sullen Fit.
Car. To Bed, and all alone! I would surprize her there. Oh how it
pleases me to think of stealing into her Arms like a fine Dream,
Wench, hah.
Aur. 'Twill be a pleasant one, no doubt.
Pet. He lays the way out how he'll be cozen'd. [Aside.
-The Seigniora perhaps may be angry, Sir, but I'll venture
that to accommodate you; and that you may surprize her the more
readily, be pleased to stay in my Chamber, till you think she
may be asleep.
Car. Thou art a perfect Mistress of thy Trade.
Pet. So, now will I to the Seigniora's Bed my self, drest and
perfum'd, and finish two good Works at once; earn five hundred
Crowns, and keep up the Honour of the House. [Aside.]- Softly,
sweet Don. [Lights him out.
Aur. And I will do two more good things, and disappoint your
Expectations; jilt the young English Fool, and have old Carlo
well bang'd, if t'other have any Courage.
Enter La Nuche in Rage, and Sancho.
La Nu. Aurelia, help, help me to be reveng'd upon this wretched
unconsidering Heart.
Aur. Heavens, have you made the Rover happy, Madam?
La Nu. Oh wou'd I had! or that or any Sin wou'd change this Rage
into some easier Passion: Sickness and Poverty, Disgrace and
Pity, all met iii one, were kinder than this Love, this raging
Fire of a proud amorous Heart.
Enter Petronella.
Pet. Heavens, what's the matter?
Aur. Here's Petronella, dissemble but your Rage a little.
La Nu. Damn all dissembling now, it is too late-
The Tyrant Love reigns absolute within,
And I am lost, Aurelia.
Pet. How, Love! forbid it Heaven! will Love maintain ye?
La Nu. Curse on your Maxims, will they ease my Heart? Can your wise
Counsel fetch me back my Rover?
Pet. Hah, your Rover, a Pox upon him.
La Nu. He's gone- gone to the Arms of some gay generous Maid, who
nobly follows Love's diviner Dictates, whilst I 'gainst Nature
studying thy dull Precepts, and to be base and infamously rich,
have barter'd all the Joys of human Life- Oh give me Love: I
will be poor and love.
Pet. She's lost- but hear me-
La Nu. I won't, from Childhood thou hast trained me up in Cunning,
read Lectures to me of the use of Man, but kept me from the
knowledge of the Right; taught me to jilt, to flatter and
deceive: and hard it was to learn th' ungrateful Lessons. But oh
how soon plain Nature taught me Love, and shew'd me all the
cheat of thy false Tenents- No- give me Love with any other
Curse.
Pet. But who will give you that when you are poor? when you are
wretchedly despis'd and poor?
La Nu. Hah!
Pet. Do you not daily see fine Clothes, rich Furniture, Jewels and
Plate are more inviting than Beauty unadorn'd? be old,
diseas'd, deform'd, be any thing, so you be rich and splendidly
attended, you'll find your self lov'd and ador'd by all- But I'm
an old fool still- Well, Petronella, had'st thou been half as
industrious in thy Youth as in thy Age- thou hadst not come to
this. [Weeps.
La Nu. She's in the right.
Pet. What can this mad poor Captain do for you, love you whilst you
can buy him Breeches, and then leave you? A Woman has a sweet
time on't with any Soldier-Lover of 'em all, with their Iron
Minds, and Buff Hearts; feather'd Inamorato's have nothing that
belongs to Love but his Wings, the Devil clip 'em for
Petronella.
La Nu. True- he can ne'er be constant. [Pausing.
Pet. Heaven forbid he should! No, if you are so unhappy as that you
must have him, give him a Night or two and pay him for't, and
send him to feed again: But for your Heart, 'Sdeath, I would as
soon part with my Beauty, or Youth, and as necessary a Tool 'tis
for your Trade- A Curtezan and love! but all my Counsel's thrown
away upon ye. [Weeps.
La Nu. No more, I will be rul'd- I will be wise, be rich; and since
I must yield somewhere, and some time, Beaumond shall be the
Man, and this the Night; he's handsom, young, and lavishly
profuse: This Night he comes, and I'll submit to Interest. Let
the gilded Apartment be made ready, and strew it o'er with
Flowers, adorn my Bed of State; let all be fine; perfume my
Chamber like the Phoenix's Nest, I'll be luxurious in my Pride
to Night, and make the amorous prodigal Youth my Slave.
Pet. Nobly resolv'd! and for these other two who wait your coming,
let me alone to manage. [Goes out.
Scene changes to a Chamber, discovers Fetherfool in Bed.
Feth. This Gentlewoman is plaguy long in coming:- some Nicety now,
some perfum'd Smock, or Point Night-Clothes to make her more
lovely in my Eyes: Well, these Women are right City Cooks, they
stay so long to garnish the Dish, till the Meat be cold- but
hark, the Door opens.
Enter Carlo softly, half undrest.
Car. This Wench stays long, and Love's impatient; this is the
Chamber of La Nuche, I take it: If she be awake, I'll let her
know who I am; if not, I'll steal a Joy before she thinks of it.
Feth. Sure 'tis she, pretty modest Rogue, she comes i'th' dark to
hide her Blushes- hum, I'm plaguy eloquent o'th' sudden- who's
there? [Whispering.
Car. 'Tis I, my Love.
Feth. Hah, sweet Soul, make haste.- There 'twas again.
Car. So kind, sure she takes me for some other, or has some inkling
of my Design- [To himself.
Where are you, Sweetest?
Feth. Here, my Love, give me your Hand-
[Puts out his Hand; Carlo kneels and kisses it.
Car. Here let me worship the fair Shrine before I dare approach so
fair a Saint. [Kisses the Hand.
Feth. Hah, what a Pox have we here?- wou'd I were well out o'
t'other side- perhaps 'tis her Husband, and then I'm a dead Man,
if I'm discover'd.
[Removes to t'other side, Carlo holds his Hand.
Car. Nay, do not fly- I know you took me for some happier Person.
[Feth. struggles, Car. rises and takes him
in his Arms, and kisses him.
Feth. What, will you ravish me? [In a shrill Voice.
Car. Hah, that Voice is not La Nuche's- Lights there, Lights.
Feth. Nay, I can hold a bearded Venus, Sir, as well as any Man.
[Holds Carlo.
Car. What art thou, Rogue, Villain, Slave?
[They fall to Cuffs, and fight till they are bloody, fall
from the Bed and fight on the Floor.
Enter Petronella, Sancho, and Aurelia.
Pet. Heaven, what noise is this?- we are undone, part 'em, Sancho.
[They part 'em.
Feth. Give me my Sword; nay, give me but a Knife, that I may cut
yon Fellow's Throat-
Car. Sirrah, I'm a Grandee, and a Spaniard, and will be reveng'd.
Feth. And I'm an English-man, and a Justice, and will have Law,
Sir.
Pet. Say 'tis her Husband, or any thing to get him hence.
[Aside to Sancho, who whispers him.
These English, Sir, are Devils, and on my Life 'tis unknown to
the Seigniora that he's i'th' House. [To Carlo aside.
Car. Come, I'm abus'd but I must put it up for fear of my Honour;
a Statesman's Reputation is a tender thing: Convey me out the
back way. I'll be reveng'd. [Goes out.
Feth. (Aurelia whispers to him aside.) How, her Husband! Prithee
convey me out; my Clothes, my Clothes, quickly-
Aur. Out, Sir! he has lock'd the Door, and designs to have ye
murder'd.
Feth. Oh, gentle Soul- take pity on me- where, oh what shall I do?-
my Clothes, my Sword and Money.
Aur. Quickly, Sancho, tie a Sheet to the Window, and let him slide
down by that- Be speedy, and we'll throw your Clothes out after
ye. Here, follow me to the Window.
Feth. Oh, any whither, any whither. That I could not be warn'd from
whoring in a strange Country, by my Friend Ned Blunt's Example-
if I can but keep it secret now, I care not.
[Exeunt.
Scene, the Street, a Sheet ty'd to the Balcony, and Feth.
sitting cross to slide down.
Feth. So- now your Neck, or your Throat, chuse ye either, wise Mr.
Nicholas Fetherfool- But stay, I hear Company. Now dare not I
budg an Inch.
Enter Beaumond alone.
Beau. Where can this Rascal, my Page, be all this while? I waited
in the Piazza so long, that I believed he had mistook my Order,
and gone directly to La Nuche's House- but here's no sign of
him-
Feth. Hah- I hear no noise, I'll venture down.
[Goes halfway down and stops.
Enter Abevile, Harlequin, Musick and Willmore.
Will. Whither will this Boy conduct me?- but since to a Woman, no
matter whither 'tis.
Feth. Hah, more Company; now dare not I stir up nor down, they may
be Bravoes to cut my Throat.
Beau. Oh sure these are they-
Will. Come, my Heart, lose no time, but tune your Pipes.
[Harlequin plays on his Guittar, and sings.
Beau. How, sure this is some Rival. [Goes near and listens.
Will. Harkye, Child, hast thou ne'er an amorous Ditty, short and
sweet, hah-
Abev. Shall I not sing that you gave me, Sir?
Will. I shall spoil all with hard Questions- Ay, Child- that.
[Abev. sings, Beau. listens, and seems angry the while.
SONG.
A Pox upon this needless Scorn!
Silvia, for shame the Cheat give o'er;
The end to which the fair are born,
Is not to keep their Charms in store,
But lavishly dispose in haste,
Of Joys which none but Youth improve;
Joys which decay when Beauty's past:
And who when Beauty's past will love?
When Age those Glories shall deface,
Revenging all your cold Disdain,
And Silvia shall neglected pass,
By every once admiring Swain;
And we can only Pity pay,
When you in vain too late shall burn:
If Love increase, and Youth delay,
Ah, Silvia, who will make return?
Then haste, my Silvia, to the Grove,
Where all the Sweets of May conspire,
To teach us every Art of Love,
And raise our Charms of Pleasure higher;
Where, whilst imbracing we should lie
Loosely in Shades, on Banks of Flowers:
The duller World whilst we defy,
Years will be Minutes, Ages Hours.
Beau. 'Sdeath, that's my Page's Voice: Who the Devil is't that
ploughs with my Heifer!
Aur. Don Henrick, Don Henrick-
[The Door opens, Beau. goes up to't; Will. puts him by, and
offers to go in, he pulls him back.
Will. How now, what intruding Slave art thou?
Beau. What Thief art thou that basely, and by dark, rob'st me of
all my Rights?
[Strikes him, they fight, and Blows light on
Fetherfool who hangs down.
[Sancho throws Fetherfool's Clothes out, Harlequin
takes 'em up in confusion; they fight out
Beaumond, all go off, but Will. gets into the
House: Harlequin and Feth. remain. Feth. gets
down, runs against Harlequin in the dark, both
seem frighted.
Harl. Que questo.
Feth. Ay, un pouer dead Home, murder'd, kill'd.
Harl. (In Italian.) You are the first dead Man I ever saw walk.
Feth. Hah, Seignior Harlequin!
Harl. Seignior Nicholas!
Feth. A Pox Nicholas ye, I have been mall'd and beaten within
doors, and hang'd and bastinado'd without doors, lost my
Clothes, my Money, and all my Moveables; but this is nothing to
the Secret taking Air. Ah, dear Seignior, convey me to the
Mountebanks, there I may have Recruit and Cure under one.
ACT V.
SCENE I. A Chamber.
La Nuche on a Couch in an Undress, Willmore at her Feet, on his
Knees, all unbrac'd: his Hat, Sword, &c. on the Table, at
which she is dressing her Head.
Will. Oh Gods! no more!
I see a yielding in thy charming Eyes;
The Blushes on thy Face, thy trembling Arms,
Thy panting Breast, and short-breath'd Sighs confess,
Thou wo't be mine, in spite of all thy Art.
La Nu. What need you urge my Tongue then to repeat What from my
Eyes you can so well interpret?
[Bowing down her Head to him and sighing.
-Or if it must- dispose me as you please-
Will. Heaven, I thank thee! [Rises with Joy.
Who wou'd not plough an Age in Winter Seas,
Or wade full seven long Years in ruder Camps,
To find out this Rest at last?- [Leans on, and kisses her Bosom.
Upon thy tender Bosom to repose;
To gaze upon thy Eyes, and taste thy Balmy Kisses, [Kisses her.
-Sweeter than everlasting Groves of Spices,
When the soft Winds display the opening Buds:
-Come, haste, my Soul, to Bed-
La Nu. You can be soft I find, when you wou'd conquer absolutely.
Will. Not infant Angels, not young sighing Cupids
Can be more; this ravishing Joy that thou hast promis'd me,
Has form'd my Soul to such a Calm of Love,
It melts e'en at my Eyes.
La Nu. What have I done? that Promise will undo me.
-This Chamber was prepar'd, and I was drest,
To give Admittance to another Lover.
Will. But Love and Fortune both were on my side-
Come, come to Bed- consider nought but Love-
[They going out, one knocks.
La Nu. Hark!
Beau. (without.) By Heav'n I will have entrance.
La Nu. 'Tis he whom I expect; as thou lov'st Life
And me, retire a little into this Closet.
Will. Hah, retire!
La Nu. He's the most fiercely jealous of his Sex,
And Disappointment will inrage him more.
Will. Death: let him rage whoe'er he be; dost think
I'll hide me from him, and leave thee to his Love?
Shall I, pent up, thro the thin Wainscot hear
Your Sighs, your amorous Words, and sound of Kisses?
No, if thou canst cozen me, do't, but discreetly,
And I shall think thee true:
I have thee now, and when I tamely part
With the, may Cowards huff and bully me. [Knocks again.
La Nu. And must I be undone because I love ye?
This is the Mine from whence I fetcht my Gold.
Will. Damn the base Trash: I'll have thee poor, and mine;
'Tis nobler far, to starve with him thou lov'st
Than gay without, and pining all within.
[Knocking, breaking the Door, Will. snatches up his Sword.
La Nu. Heavens, here will be murder done- he must not see him.
[As Beau. breaks open the Door, she runs
away with the Candle, they are by dark,
Beau. enters with his Sword drawn.
Will. What art thou?
Beau. A Man.
[They fight.
Enter Petron. with Light, La Nuche following,
Beau. runs to her.
Oh thou false Woman, falser than thy Smiles,
Which serve but to delude good-natur'd Man,
And when thou hast him fast, betray'st his Heart!
Will. Beaumond!
Beau. Willmore! Is it with thee I must tug for Empire?
For I lay claim to all this World of Beauty.
[Takes La Nuche, looking with scorn on Willmore.
La Nu. Heavens, how got this Ruffian in?
Will. Hold, hold, dear Harry, lay no Hands on her till thou can'st
make thy Claim good.
Beau. She's mine, by Bargain mine, and that's sufficient.
Will. In Law perhaps, it may for ought I know, but 'tis not so in
Love: but thou'rt my Friend, and I'll therefore give thee fair
Play- if thou canst win her take her: But a Sword and a Mistress
are not to be lost, if a Man can keep 'em.
Beau. I cannot blame thee, thou but acts thy self-
But thou fair Hypocrite, to whom I gave my Heart,
And this exception made of all Mankind,
Why would'st thou, as in Malice to my Love,
Give it the only Wound that cou'd destroy it?
Will. Nay, if thou didst forbid her loving me, I have her sure.
Beau. I yield him many Charms; he's nobly born,
Has Wit, Youth, Courage, all that takes the Heart,
And only wants what pleases Women's Vanity,
Estate, the only good that I can boast:
And that I sacrifice to buy thy Smiles.
La Nu. See, Sir- here's a much fairer Chapman- you may be gone-
[To Will.
Will. Faith, and so there is, Child, for me, I carry all about me,
and that by Heaven is thine: I'll settle all upon thee, but my
Sword, and that will buy us Bread. I've two led Horses too, one
thou shalt manage, and follow me thro Dangers.
La Nu. A very hopeful comfortable Life;
No, I was made for better Exercises.
Will. Why, every thing in its turn, Child, yet a Man's but a Man.
Beau. No more, but if thou valuest her,
Leave her to Ease and Plenty.
Will. Leave her to Love, my Dear; one hour of right-down Love,
Is worth an Age of living dully on:
What is't to be adorn'd and shine with Gold,
Drest like a God, but never know the Pleasure?
-No, no, I have much finer things in store for thee. [Hugs her.
La Nu. What shall I do?
Here's powerful Interest prostrate at my Feet,
[Pointing to Beau.
Glory, and all than Vanity can boast;
-But there- Love unadorn'd, no covering but his Wings,
[To Will.
No Wealth, but a full Quiver to do mischiefs,
Laughs at those meaner Trifles-
Beau. Mute as thou art, are not these Minutes mine?
But thou- ah false- hast dealt 'em out already,
With all thy Charms of Love, to this unknown-
Silence and guilty Blushes say thou hast:
He all disorder'd too, loose and undrest,
With Love and Pleasure dancing in his Eyes,
Tell me too plainly how thou hast deceiv'd me.
La Nu. Or if I have not, 'tis a Trick soon done, And this
ungrateful Jealousy wou'd put it in my Head. [Angrily.
Beau. Wou'd! by Heaven, thou hast- he is not to be fool'd,
Or sooth'd into belief of distant Joys,
As easy as I have been: I've lost so kind
An Opportunity, where Night and Silence both
Conspire with Love, had made him rage like Waves
Blown up by Storms:- no more- I know he has
-Oh what, La Nuche! robb'd me of all that I
Have languish'd for-
La Nu. If it were so, you should not dare believe it-
[Angrily turns away, he kneels and holds her.
Beau. Forgive me; oh so very well I love,
Did I not know that thou hadst been a Whore,
I'd give thee the last proof of Love- and marry thee.
Will. The last indeed- for there's an end of Loving;
Do, marry him, and be curst by all his Family:
Marry him, and ruin him, that he may curse thee too.
-But hark ye, Friend, this is not fair; 'tis drawing Sharps
on a Man that's only arm'd with the defensive Cudgel,
I'm for no such dead doing Arguments; if thou art for me,
Child, it must be without the folly, for better for worse;
there's a kind of Nonsense in that Vow Fools only swallow.
La Nu. But when I've worn out all my Youth and Beauty, and suffer'd
every ill of Poverty, I shall be compell'd to begin the World
again without a Stock to set up with. No faith, I'm for a
substantial Merchant in Love, who can repay the loss of Time and
Beauty; with whom to make one thriving Voyage sets me up for
ever, and I need never put to Sea again. [Comes to Beau.
Beau. Nor be expos'd to Storms of Poverty, the Indies shall come to
thee- See here- this is the Merchandize my Love affords.
[Gives her a Pearl, and Pendants of Diamond.
La Nu. Look ye, Sir, will not these Pearls do better round my Neck,
than those kind Arms of yours? these Pendants in my Ears, than
all the Tales of Love you can whisper there?
Will. So- I am deceiv'd- deal on for Trash- and barter all thy Joys
of Life for Baubles- this Night presents me one Adventure more-
I'll try thee once again, inconstant Fortune; and if thou
fail'st me then- I will forswear thee [Aside.] Death, hadst
thou lov'd my Friend for his own Value, I had esteem'd thee;
but when his Youth and Beauty cou'd not plead, to be the
mercenary Conquest of his Presents, was poor, below thy Wit: I
cou'd have conquer'd so, but I scorn thee at that rate- my
Purse shall never be my Pimp- Farewel, Harry.
Beau. Thou'st sham'd me out of Folly- stay-
Will. Faith- I have an Assignation with a Woman- a Woman Friend!
young as the infant-day, and sweet as Roses e'er the Morning Sun
have kiss'd their Dew away. She will not ask me Money neither.
La Nu. Hah! stay- [Holds him, and looks on him.
Beau. She loves him, and her Eyes betray her Heart.
Will. I am not for your turn, Child- Death I shall lose my Mistress
fooling here- I must be gone.
[She holds him, he shakes his Head and sings.
No, no, I will not hire your Bed,
Nor Tenant to your Favours be;
I will not farm your White and Red,
You shall not let your Love to me:
I court a Mistress- not a Landlady. [bis.
Beau. He's in the right; and shall I waste my Youth and powerful
Fortune on one who all this while has jilted me, seeing I was a
lavish loving Fool?- No- this Soul and Body shall not be
divided- [Gives her to Will.
Will. I am so much thy Friend, another time I might be drawn to
take a bad Bargain off thy Hands- but I have other Business at
present: wo't do a kind thing, Harry,- lend me thy Aid to carry
off my Woman to night? 'tis hard by in the Piazza, perhaps we
may find Resistance.
Beau. My self and Sword are yours. I have a Chair waits below too,
may do you Service.
Will. I thank ye- Madam- your Servant.
La Nu. Left by both!
Beau. You see our Affairs are pressing.
[Bows, and smiles carelesly. Ex. Will. singing, and Beau.
La Nu. Gone! where's all your Power, ye poor deluded Eyes? Curse on
your feeble Fires, that cannot warm a Heart which every common
Beauty kindles. Oh- he is gone for ever.
Enter Petronella.
Pet. Yes, he is gone, to your eternal Ruin: not all the Race of Men
cou'd have produc'd so bountiful and credulous a Fool.
La Nu. No, never; fetch him back, my Petronella: Bring me my wild
Inconstant, or I die- [Puts her out.
Pet. The Devil fetch him back for Petronella, is't he you mean?
you've had too much of him; a Curse upon him, he'as ruin'd you.
La Nu. He has, he shall, he must compleat my ruin.
Pet. She raves, the Rogue has given her a Spanish Philtre.
La Nu. My Coach, my Veil- or let 'em all alone; undrest thus
loosely to the Winds commit me to darkness, and no Guide but
pitying Cupid. [Going out, Pet. holds her.
Pet. What, are you mad?
La Nu. As Winds let loose, or Storms when they rage high.
[Goes out.
Pet. She's lost, and I'll shift for my self, seize all her Money
and Jewels, of which I have the Keys; and if Seignior Mountebank
keeps his Word, be transform'd to Youth and Beauty again, and
undo this La Nuche at her own Trade-
[Goes in.
SCENE II. The Street.
Enter Willmore, Beaumond, Chair following.
Will. Set down the Chair; you're now within call, I'll to the
Garden-Door, and see if any Lady Bright appear- Dear Beaumond,
stay here a minute, and if I find occasion, I'll give you the
Word.
Beau. 'Tis hard by my Lodgings; if you want Conveniences, I have
the Key of the Back-way through the Garden, whither you may
carry your Mistress.
Will. I thank thee- let me first secure my Woman.
[Goes out.
Beau. I thought I'd lov'd this false, this jilting Fair, even above
my Friendship; but I find I can forgive this Rogue, tho I am
sure he has rob'd me of my Joys.
Enter Ariadne with a Casket of Jewels.
Aria. Not yet! a Devil on him, he's Dear-hearting it with some
other kind Damsel- Faith, 'tis most wickedly done of me to
venture my Body with a mad unknown Fellow. Thus a little more
Delay will put me into a serious Consideration, and I shall e'en
go home again, sleep and be sober. [She walks about.
Beau. Hah, a Woman! Perhaps the same he looks for- I'll counterfeit
his Voice and try my Chance- Fortune may set us even.
Aria. Hah, is not that a Man? Yes- and a Chair waiting.
[She peeps.
Beau. Who's there?
Aria. A Maid.
Beau. A Miracle- Oh art thou come, Child?
Aria. 'Tis he, you are a civil Captain, are you not, to make a
longing Maid expect thus? What Woman has detain'd you?
Beau. Faith, my Dear, tho Flesh and Blood be frail, yet the dear
Hopes of thee has made me hold out with a Herculean Courage-
Stay, where shall I carry her? not to my own Apartment; Ariadne
may surprize me: I'll to the Mountebank here i'th' Piazza, he
has a Cure for all things, even for longing Love, and for a
Pistole or two will do Reason.- Hah, Company: Here, step into
this Chair.
[She goes in, they go off just as Will. enters.
Will. Hum, a Woman of Quality and jilt me- Egad, that's strange
now- Well, who shall a Man trust in this wicked World?
Enter La Nuche as before.
La Nu. This should be he, he saunters about like an expecting
Lover. [Will. peeping and approaching.
Will. By this Light a Woman, if she be the right- but right or
wrong so she be Feminine: harkye, Child, I fancy thee some kind
thing that belongs to me.
La Nu. Who are you? [In a low tone.
Will. A wandering Lover that has lost his Heart, and I have shreud
Guess 'tis in thy dear Bosom, Child.
La Nu. Oh you're a pretty Lover, a Woman's like to have a sweet
time on't, if you're always so tedious.
Will. By yon bright Star-light, Child, I walk'd here in short turns
like a Centinel, all this live-long Evening, and was just going
(Gad forgive me) to kill my self.
La Nu. I rather think some Beauty has detain'd you:
Have you not seen La Nuche?
Will. La Nuche!- Why, she's a Whore- I hope you take me for a
civiller Person, than to throw my self away on Whores- No,
Child, I lie with none but honest Women I: but no disputing
now, come- to my Lodging, my dear- here's a Chair waits hard by.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III. Willmore's Lodging.
Enter Harlequin with Fetherfool's Clothes on his Shoulder,
leading him halting by one Hand, Blunt (drunk) by the
other in the dark; Fetherfool bloody, his Coat put
over his Shoulders.
Feth. Peano, Peano, Seignior, gently, good Edward- for I'll not
halt before a Cripple; I have lost a great part of my agil
Faculties.
Blunt. Ah, see the Inconstancy of fickle Fortune, Nicholas- A Man
to day, and beaten to morrow: but take comfort, there's many a
proper fellow has been robb'd and beaten on this Highway of
whoring.
Feth. Ay, Ned, thou speak'st by woful Experience- but that I should
miscarry after thy wholesom Documents- but we are all mortal, as
thou say'st, Ned- Would I had never crost the Ferry from
Croydon; a few such Nights as these wou'd learn a Man Experience
enough to be a Wizard, if he have but the ill luck to escape
hanging.
Blunt. 'Dsheartlikins, I wonder in what Country our kinder Stars
rule: In England plunder'd, sequester'd, imprison'd and
banish'd; in France, starv'd, walking like the Sign of the naked
Boy, with Plymouth Cloaks in our Hands; in Italy and Spain
robb'd, beaten, and thrown out at Windows.
Feth. Well, how happy am I, in having so true a Friend to condole
me in Affliction- [Weeps.] I am oblig'd to Seignior Harlequin
too, for bringing me hither to the Mountebank's, where I shall
not only conceal this Catastrophe from those fortunate Rogues
our Comrades, but procure a little Album Graecum for my
Backside. Come, Seignior, my Clothes- but, Seignior- un
Portavera Poco palanea. [Dresses himself.
Harl. Seignior.
Feth. Entende vos Signoria Englesa?
Harl. Em Poco, em Poco, Seignior.
Feth. Per quelq arts, did your Seigniorship escape Cudgeling?
Harl. La art de transformatio.
Feth. Transformatio- Why, wert thou not born a Man?
Harl. No, Seignior, un vieule Femme.
Feth. How, born an old Woman?
Blunt. Good Lord! born an old Woman! And so by transformation
became invulnerable.
Feth. Ay- in- invulnerable- what would I give to be invulnerable?
and egad, I am almost weary of being a Man, and subject to
beating: wou'd I were a Woman, a Man has but an ill time on't:
if he has a mind to a Wench, the making Love is so plaguy
tedious- then paying is to my Soul insupportable. But to be a
Woman, to be courted with Presents, and have both the Pleasure
and the Profit- to be without a Beard, and sing a fine Treble-
and squeak if the Men but kiss me- 'twere fine- and what's
better, am sure never to be beaten again.
Blunt. Pox on't, do not use an old Friend so scurvily; consider the
Misery thou'lt indure to have the Heart and Mind of a jilting
Whore possess thee: What a Fit of the Devil must he suffer who
acts her Part from fourteen to fourscore! No, 'tis resolv'd thou
remain Nicholas Fetherfool still, shalt marry the Monster, and
laugh at Fortune.
Feth. 'Tis true, should I turn Whore to the Disgrace of my Family-
what would the World say? who wou'd have thought it, cries one?
I cou'd never have believ'd it, cries another. No, as thou
say'st, I'll remain as I am- marry and live honestly.
Blunt. Well resolv'd, I'll leave you, for I was just going to
serenade my Fairy Queen, when I met thee at the Door- some Deeds
of Gallantry must be perform'd, Seignior, Bonus Nochus.
[Ex. Blunt.
Enter Shift with Light.
Feth. Hah, a Light, undone!
Harl. Patientia, Patientia, Seignior.
Shift. Where the Devil can this Rogue Hunt be? Just now all things
are ready for marrying these two Monsters; they wait, the House
is husht, and in the lucky Minute to have him out of the way:
sure the Devil owes me a spite.
[Runs against Harlequin, puts out his Candle.
Harl. Qui est la?
Shift. 'Tis Harlequin: Pox on't, is't you?
Harl. Peace, here's Fetherfool, I'll secure him, whilst you go
about your Affair.
[Ex. Shift.
Feth. Oh, I hear a Noise, dear Harlequin secure me; if I am
discover'd I am undone- hold, hold- here's a Door-
[They both go in.
Scene changes to a Chamber, discovers the She-Giant asleep
in a great Chair.
Enter Fetherfool and Harlequin.
Feth. Hah- my Lady Monster! have I to avoid Scylla run upon
Carybdis?- hah, she sleeps; now wou'd some magnanimous Lover
make good Use of this Opportunity, take Fortune by the Fore-
lock, put her to't, and make sure Work- but Egad, he must have a
better Heart, or a better Mistress than I.
Harl. Try your Strength, I'll be civil and leave you.
[In Italian he still speaks.
Feth. Excuse me, Seignior, I should crackle like a wicker Bottle in
her Arms- no, Seignior, there's no venturing without a Grate
between us: the Devil wou'd not give her due Benevolence- No,
when I'm marry'd, I'll e'en show her a fair pair of Heels, her
Portion will pay Postage- But what if the Giant should carry
her? that's to be fear'd, then I have cock'd and drest, and fed,
and ventur'd all this while for nothing.
Harl. Faith, Seignior, if I were you, I wou'd make sure of
something, see how rich she is in Gems.
Feth. Right, as thou say'st, I ought to make sure of something, and
she is rich in Gems: How amiable looks that Neck with that
delicious row of Pearls about it.
Harl. She sleeps.
Feth. Ay, she sleeps as 'twere her last. What if I made bold to
unrig her? So if I miss the Lady, I have at least my Charges
paid: what vigorous Lover can resist her Charms?-
[Looks on her.
But shou'd she wake and miss it, and find it about me, I shou'd
be hang'd- [Turns away.
-So then, I lose my Lady too- but Flesh and Blood cannot resist-
What if I left the Town? then I lose my Lady still; and who
wou'd lose a Hog for the rest of the Proverb?- And yet a Bird in
Hand, Friend Nicholas- Yet sweet Meat may have sour Sauce- And
yet refuse when Fortune offers- Yet Honesty's a Jewel- But a Pox
upon Pride, when Folks go naked-
Harl. Well said. [Incouraging him by Signs.
Feth. Ay- I'll do't- but what Remedy now against Discovery and
Restitution?
Harl. Oh, Sir, take no care, you shall- swallow 'em.
Feth. How, swallow 'em! I shall ne'er be able to do't.
Harl. I'll shew you, Seignior, 'tis easy.
Feth. 'Gad that may be, 'twere excellent if I cou'd do't; but
first- by your leave.
[Unties the Necklace, breaks the String, and Harl.
swallows one to shew him.
Harl. Look ye, that's all-
Feth. Hold, hold, Seignior, an you be so nimble, I shall pay dear
for my Learning- let me see- Friend Nicholas, thou hast
swallow'd many a Pill for the Disease of the Body, let's see
what thou canst perform for that of the Purse. [Swallows 'em.
-so- a comfortable business this- three or four thousand pound
in Cordial-Pearl: 'Sbud, Mark Anthony was never so treated by
his Egyptian Crocodile- hah, what noise is that?
Harl. Operator, Operator, Seignior.
Feth. How, an Operator! why, what the Devil makes he here? some
Plot upon my Lady's Chastity; were I given to be jealous now,
Danger wou'd ensue- Oh, he's entring, I would not be seen for
all the World. Oh, some place of Refuge- [Looking about.
Harl. I know of none.
Feth. Hah, what's this- a Clock Case?
Harl. Good, good- look you, Sir, do you do thus, and 'tis
impossible to discover ye.
[Goes into the Case, and shews him how to stand; then
Fetherfool goes in, pulls off his Periwig, his Head
out, turning for the Minutes o'th' top: his Hand
out, and his Fingers pointing to a Figure.
Enter Shift and Hunt.
Feth. Oh Heaven, he's here.
Shift. See where she sleeps; get you about your business, see your
own little Marmoset and the Priest be ready, that we may marry
and consummate before Day; and in the Morning our Friends shall
see us abed together, give us the good morrow, and the Work's
done.
[Ex. Hunt.
Feth. Oh Traytor to my Bed, what a Hellish Plot's here discover'd!
[Shift wakes the Giant.
Giant. Oh, are you come, my Sweetest?
Feth. Hah, the Mistress of my Bosom false too! ah, who wou'd trust
faithless Beauty- oh that I durst speak.
Shift. Come let's away, your Uncle and the rest of the House are
fast asleep, let's away e'er the two Fools, Blunt and
Fetherfool, arrive.
Giant. Hang 'em, Pigeon-hearted Slaves-
Shift. A Clock- let's see what hour 'tis-
[Lifts up the Light to see, Feth. blows it out.
-How! betray'd- I'll kill the Villain. [Draws.
Feth. Say you so, then 'tis time for me to uncase.
Shift. Have you your Lovers hid?
[Gets out, all groping in the dark, Feth. gets the
Giant by the Hand.
Giant. Softly, or we're undone; give me your Hand, and be
undeceiv'd.
Feth. 'Tis she, now shall I be reveng'd. [Leads her out.
Shift. What, gone! Death, has this Monster got the Arts of Woman?
[Harl. meets him in the dark, and plays
tricks with him.
[Ex. all.
Enter Willmore and La Nuche by dark.
Will. Now we are safe and free, let's in, my Soul, and gratefully
first sacrifice to Love, then to the Gods of Mirth and Wine, my
Dear.
[Ex. passing over the Stage.
Enter Blunt with Petronella, imbracing her, his Sword
in his Hand, and a Box of Jewels.
Pet. I was damnably afraid I was pursu'd. [Aside.
Blunt. Something in the Fray I've got, pray Heaven it prove a
Prize, after my cursed ill luck of losing my Lady Dwarf: Why do
you tremble, fair one?- you're in the Hands of an honest
Gentleman, Adshartlikins.
Pet. Alas, Sir, just as I approacht Seignior Doctor's Door, to have
my self surrounded with naked Weapons, then to drop with the
fear my Casket of Jewels, which had not you by chance stumbled
on and taken up, I had lost a hundred thousand Crowns with it.
Blunt. Ha um- a hundred thousand Crowns- a pretty trifling Sum-
I'll marry her out of hand. [Aside.
Pet. This is an Englishman, of a dull honest Nation, and might be
manag'd to advantage, were but I transform'd now. [Aside.
I hope you are a Man of Honour; Sir, I am a Virgin, fled from
the rage of an incens'd Brother; cou'd you but secure me with my
Treasure, I wou'd be devoted yours.
Blunt. Secure thee! by this Light, sweet Soul, I'll marry thee;-
Beivile's Lady ran just so away with him- this must be a Prize-
[Aside.
But hark- prithee, my Dear, step in a little, I'll keep my good
Fortune to my self.
Pet. See what trust I repose in your Hands, those Jewels, Sir.
Blunt. So- there can be no jilting here, I am secur'd from being
cozen'd however. [Ex. Pet.
Enter Fetherfool.
Feth. A Pox on all Fools, I say, and a double Pox on all fighting
Fools; just when I had miraculously got my Monster by a mistake
in the dark, convey'd her out, and within a moment of marrying
her, to have my Friend set upon me, and occasion my losing her,
was a Catastrophe which none but thy termagant Courage (which
never did any Man good) cou'd have procur'd.
Blunt. 'Dshartlikins, I cou'd kill my self.
Feth. To fight away a couple of such hopeful Monsters, and two
Millions- 'owns, was ever Valour so improvident?
Blunt. Your fighting made me mistake: for who the Pox wou'd have
look'd for Nicholas Fetherfool in the person of a Hero?
Feth. Fight, 'Sbud, a Million of Money wou'd have provok'd a Bully;
besides, I took you for the damn'd Rogue my Rival.
Blunt. Just as I had finish'd my Serenade, and had put up my Pipes
to be gone, out stalk'd me your two-handed Lady, with a Man at
her Girdle like a bunch of Keys, whom I taking for nothing less
than some one who had some foul design upon the Gentlewoman,
like a true Knight-Errant, did my best to rescue her.
Feth. Yes, yes, I feel you did, a Pox of your heavy hand.
Blunt. So whilst we two were lovingly cuffing each other, comes the
Rival, I suppose, and carries off the Prize.
Feth. Who must be Seignior Lucifer himself, he cou'd never have
vanisht with that Celerity else with such a Carriage- But come,
all we have to do is to raise the Mountebank and the Guardian,
pursue the Rogues, have 'em hang'd by Law, for a Rape, and
Theft, and then we stand fair again.
Blunt. Faith, you may, if you please, but Fortune has provided
otherwise for me. [Aside.]
[Ex. Blu. and Feth.
Enter Beaumond and Ariadne.
Beau. Sure none lives here, or Thieves are broken in, the Doors are
all left open.
Aria. Pray Heaven this Stranger prove but honest now. [Aside.
Beau. Now, my dear Creature, every thing conspires to make us
happy, let us not defer it.
Aria. Hold, dear Captain, I yield but on Conditions, which are
these- I give you up a Maid of Youth and Beauty, ten thousand
Pound in ready Jewels here- three times the value in Estate to
come, of which here be the Writings, you delivering me a handsom
proper fellow, Heart-whole and sound, that's all- your Name I
ask not till the Priest declare it, who is to seal the Bargain.
I cannot deceive, for I let you know I am Daughter-in-law to the
English Ambassador.
Beau. Ariadne!- How vain is all Man's Industry and Care
To make himself accomplish'd;
When the gay fluttering Fool, or the half-witted rough
unmanner'd Brute,
Who in plain terms comes right down to the business,
Out-rivals him in all his Love and Fortunes. [Aside.
Aria. Methinks you cool upon't, Captain.
Beau. Yes, Ariadne.
Aria. Beaumond!
Beau. Oh what a World of Time have I mispent for want of being a
Blockhead- 'Sdeath and Hell,
Wou'd I had been some brawny ruffling Fool,
Some forward impudent unthinking Sloven,
A Woman's Tool; for all besides unmanageable.
Come, swear that all this while you thought 'twas I.
The Devil has taught ye Tricks to bring your Falshood off.
Aria. Know 'twas you! no, Faith, I took you for as errant a right-
down Captain as ever Woman wisht for; and 'twas uncivil egad, to
undeceive me, I tell you that now.
Enter Willmore and La Nuche by dark.
Will. Thou art all Charms, a Heaven of Sweets all over, plump
smooth round Limbs, small rising Breasts, a Bosom soft and
panting- I long to wound each Sense. Lights there- who waits?-
there yet remains a Pleasure unpossest, the sight of that dear
Face- Lights there- where are my Vermin?
[Ex. Will.
Aria. My Captain with a Woman- and is it so-
Enter Will. with Lights, sees Aria. and goes to her.
Will. By Heaven, a glorious Beauty! now a Blessing on thee for
shewing me so dear a Face- Come, Child, let's retire and begin
where we left off.
La Nu. A Woman!
Aria. Where we left off! pray, where was that, good Captain?
Will. Within upon the Bed, Child- come- I'll show thee.
Beau. Hold, Sir.
Will. Beaumond! come fit to celebrate my Happiness; ah such a
Woman-friend!
Beau. Do ye know her?
Will. All o'er, to be the softest sweetest Creature-
Beau. I mean, do ye know who she is?
Will. Nor care; 'tis the last Question I ever ask a fine Woman.
Beau. And you are sure you are thus well acquainted.
Will. I cannot boast of much acquaintance- but I have pluckt a Rose
from her Bosom- or so- and given it her again- we've past the
hour of the Berjere together, that's all-
Beau. And do you know- this Lady is my- Wife? [Draw.
Will. Hah! hum, hum, hum, hum-
[Turns and sings, sees La Nuche, and returns
quick with an uneasy Grimace.
Beau. Did you not hear me? Draw.
Will. Draw, Sir- what on my Friend?
Beau. On your Cuckold, Sir, for so you've doubly made me: Draw, or
I'll kill thee-
[Passes at him, he fences with his Hat, La Nu. holds Beau.
Will. Hold, prithee hold.
La Nu. Put up your Sword, this Lady's innocent, at least in what
concerns this Evening's business; I own- with Pride I own I am
the Woman that pleas'd so well to Night.
Will. La Nuche! kind Soul to bring me off with so handsom a lye:
How lucky 'twas she happen'd to be here!
Beau. False as thou art, why shou'd I credit thee?
La Nu. By Heaven, 'tis true, I will not lose the glory on't.
Will. Oh the dear perjur'd Creature, how I love thee for this dear
lying Virtue- Harkye, Child, hast thou nothing to say for thy
self, to help us out withal?- [To Aria. aside.
Aria. I! I renounce ye- false Man.
Beau. Yes, yes, I know she's innocent of this, for which I owe no
thanks to either of you, but to my self who mistook her in the
dark.
La Nu. And you it seems mistook me for this Lady; I favour'd your
Design to gain your Heart, for I was told, that if this Night I
lost you, I shou'd never regain you: now I am yours, and o'er
the habitable World will follow you, and live and starve by
turns, as Fortune pleases.
Will. Nay, by this Light, Child, I knew when once thou'dst try'd
me, thou'dst ne'er part with me- give me thy Hand, no Poverty
shall part us. [Kisses her.
-so- now here's a Bargain made without the formal Foppery of
Marriage.
La Nu. Nay, faith Captain, she that will not take thy word as soon
as the Parson's of the Parish, deserves not the Blessing.
Will. Thou art reform'd, and I adore the Change.
Enter the Guardian, Blunt, and Fetherfool.
Guar. My Nieces stol'n, and by a couple of the Seignior's Men! the
Seignior fled too! undone, undone!
Will. Hah, now's my Cue, I must finish this Jest.
[Goes out.
Enter Shift and Giant, Hunt and Dwarf.
Guar. Oh impudence, my Nieces, and the Villains with 'em! I charge
ye, Gentlemen, to lay hold on 'em.
Dwarf. For what, good Uncle, for being so courageous to marry us?
Guar. How, married to Rogues, Rascals, John Potages!
Blunt. Who the Devil wou'd have look'd for jilting in such
Hobgoblins?
Feth. And hast thou deceiv'd me, thou foul filthy Synagogue?
Enter Willmore like a Mountebank as before.
Blunt. The Mountebank! oh thou cheating Quack, thou sophisticated
adulterated Villain.
Feth. Thou cozening, lying, Fortune-telling, Fee-taking Rascal.
Blunt. Thou jugling, conjuring, canting Rogue!
Will. What's the matter, Gentlemen?
Blunt. Hast thou the Impudence to ask, who took my Money to marry
me to this ill-favour'd Baboon?
Feth. And me to this foul filthy o'ergrown Chronicle?
Blunt. And hast suffered Rogues, thy Servants, to marry 'em:
Sirrah, I will beat thee past Cure of all thy hard-nam'd Drugs,
thy Guzman Medicines.
Feth. Nay, I'll peach him in the Inquisition for a Wizard, and have
him hang'd for a Witch.
Shift. Sir, we are Gentlemen, and you shall have the thirds of
their Portion, what wou'd you more? [Aside to the Guar.
Look ye, Sir. [Pulls off their Disguise.
Blunt. Hunt!
Feth. Shift! We are betray'd: all will out to the captain.
Will. He shall know no more of it than he does already for me,
Gentlemen. [Pulls off his Disguise.
Blunt. Willmore!
Feth. Ay, ay, 'tis he.
Blunt. Draw, Sir- you know me-
Will. -For one that 'tis impossible to cozen. [All laugh.
Beau. Have a care, Sir, we are all for the Captain.
Feth. As for that, Sir, we fear ye not, d'ye see, were you Hercules
and all his Myrmidons. [Draws, but gets behind.
Will. Fools, put up your Swords, Fools, and do not publish the
Jest; your Money you shall have again, on condition you never
pretend to be wiser than your other Men, but modestly believe
you may be cozen'd as well as your Neighbours.
[The Guardian talking with Hunt and Shift and Giant this while.
Feth. La you, Ned, why shou'd Friends fall out?
Blunt. Cozen'd! it may be not, Sir; the Essex Fool, the cozen'd
dull Rogue can shew Moveables or so- nay, they are right too-
[Shews his Jewels.
This is no Naples Adventure, Gentlemen, no Copper Chains; all
substantial Diamonds, Pearls and Rubies-
[Will. takes the Casket, and looks in it.
La Nu. Hah, do not I know that Casket, and those Jewels!
Feth. How the Pox came this Rogue by these?
Will. Hum, Edward, I confess you have redeem'd your Reputation, and
shall hereafter pass for a Wit- by what good fortune came you by
this Treasure?- what Lady-
Blunt. Lady, Sir! alas no, I'm a Fool, a Country Fop, an Ass, I;
but that you may perceive your selves mistaken, Gentlemen, this
is but an earnest of what's to come, a small token of
remembrance, or so- and yet I have no Charms, I; the fine
Captain has all the Wit and Beauty- but thou'rt my Friend, and
I'll impart. [Brings out Petronella veil'd.
Enter Aurelia and Sancho.
Aur. Hither we trac'd her, and see she's yonder.
San. Sir, in the King's Name lay hold of this old Cheat, she has
this Night robb'd our Patrona of a hundred thousand Crowns in
Money and Jewels.
Blunt. Hah! [Gets from her.
La Nu. You are mistaken, Friend Sancho, she only seiz'd 'em for my
use, and has deliver'd 'em in trust to my Friend the Captain.
Pet. Hah, La Nuche!
Blunt. How! cozen'd again!
Will. Look ye, Sir, she's so beautiful, you need no Portion, that
alone's sufficient for Wit.
Feth. Much good may do you with your rich Lady, Edward.
Blunt. Death, this Fool laugh at me too- well, I am an errant
right-down Loggerhead, a dull conceited cozen'd silly Fool; and
he that ever takes me for any other, 'Dshartlikins, I'll beat
him. I forgive you all, and will henceforth be good-natur'd;
wo't borrow any Money? Pox on't, I'll lend as far as e'er 'twill
go, for I am now reclaim'd.
Guar. Here is a Necklace of Pearl lost, which, Sir, I lay to your
Charge. [To Fetherfool.
Feth. Hum, I was bewitcht I did not rub off with it when it was
mine- who, I? if e'er I saw a Necklace of Pearl, I wish 'twere
in my Belly.
Blunt. How a Necklace! unconscionable Rogue, not to let me share:
well, there is no Friendship in the World; I hope they'l hang
him.
Shift. He'll ne'er confess without the Rack- come, we'll toss him
in a Blanket.
Feth. Hah, toss me in a Blanket, that will turn my Stomach most
villainously, and I shall disimbogue and discover all.
Shift. Come, come, the Blanket. [They lay hold on him.
Feth. Hold, hold, I do confess, I do confess-
Shift. Restore, and have your Pardon.
Feth. That is not in Nature at present, for Gentlemen, I have eat
'em.
Shift. 'Sdeath, I'll dissect ye. [Goes to draw.
Will. Let me redeem him; here Boy, take him to my Chamber, and let
the Doctor glyster him soundly, and I'll warrant you your Pearl
again.
Feth. If this be the end of travelling, I'll e'en to old England
again, take the Covenant, get a Sequestrator's Place, grow rich,
and defy all Cavaliering.
Beau. 'Tis Morning, let's home, Ariadne, and try, if possible, to
love so well to be content to marry; if we find that amendment
in our Hearts, to say we dare believe and trust each other, then
let it be a Match.
Aria. With all my Heart.
Will. You have a hankering after Marriage still, but I am for Love
and Gallantry.
So tho by several ways we gain our End,
Love still, like Death, does to one Center tend,
EPILOGUE.
Spoken by Mrs. BARRY.
POETS are Kings of Wit, and you appear
A Parliament, by Play-Bill, summon'd here;
When e'er in want, to you for aid they fly,
And a new Play's the Speech that begs supply:
But now-
The scanted Tribute is so slowly paid,
Our Poets must find out another Trade;
They've tried all ways th' insatiate Clan to please,
Have parted with their old Prerogatives,
Their Birth-right Satiring, and their just pretence
Of judging even their own Wit and Sense;
And write against their Consciences, to show
How dull they can he to comply with you.
They've flatter'd all the Mutineers i'th' Nation,
Grosser than e'er was done in Dedication;
Pleas'd your sick Palates with Fantastick Wit,
Such as was ne'er a treat before to th' Pit;
Giants, fat Cardinals, Pope Joans and Fryers,
To entertain Right Worshipfuls and Squires:
Who laugh and cry Ads Nigs, 'tis woundy good,
When the fuger's all the Jest that's understood.
And yet you'll come but once, unless by stealth,
Except the Author be for Commonwealth;
Then half Crown more you nobly throw away,
And tho my Lady seldom see a Play,
She, with her eldest Daughter, shall be boxt that day.
Then Prologue comes, Ads-lightikins, crys Sir John,
You shall hear notable Conceits anon:
How neatly, Sir, he'll bob the Court and French King,
And tickle away- you know who- for Wenching.
All this won't do, they e'en may spare their Speeches,
For all their greasing will not buy 'em Britches;
To get a penny new found ways must take,
As forming Popes, and Squibs and Crackers make.
In Coffee-Houses some their talent vent,
Rail for the Cause against the Government,
And make a pretty thriving living on't,
For who would let a useful Member want.
Things being brought to this distressed Estate,
'Twere fit you took the matter in Debate.
There was a time, when Loyally by you,
True Wit and Sense received Allegiance due,
Our King of Poets had his Tribute pay'd,
His Peers secur'd beneath his Laurel's shade.
What Crimes have they committed, they must be
Driven to the last and worst Extremity?
Oh, let it not be said of English Men,
Who have to Wit so just and noble been,
They should their Loyal Principles recant,
And let the glorious Monarch of it want.
THE END
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