Trap. I hope you forgive me; my business requires [Exeunt TRAPLAND, Steward, and JEREMY. Scan. He begs pardon like a hangman at an execution. Val. But I have got a reprieve. Scan. I am surprised; what! does your father Telent? Val. No; he has sent me the hardest condition in the world. You have heard of a booby brother of mine, that was sent to sea three years ago? This brother, my father hears, is landed; whereupon he very affectionately sends me word, if I will make a deed of conveyance of my right to his estate after his death to my younger brother, he will immediately furnish me with four thousand pounds to pay my debts, and make my fortune This was once proposed before, and I refused it; but the present impatience of my creditors for their money, and my own impatience of confinement, and absence from Angelica, force me to consent. Scan. A very desperate demonstration of your love to Angelica! and I think she has never given you any assurance of hers. Val. You know her temper; she never gave me any great reason either for hope or despair. Scan. Women of her airy temper, as they seldom think before they act, so they rarely give us any light to guess at what they mean: but you have little reason to believe that a woman of this age, who has had an indifference for you in your prosperity, will fall in love with your ill-fortune. Besides, Angelica has a great fortune of her own; and great fortunes either expect another great fortune, or a fool. Scan. Pox on him! I'll be gone. Val. No, pr'ythee stay: Tattle and you should never be asunder; you are light and shadow, and shew one another. He is perfectly thy reverse both in humour and understanding; and, as you set up for defamation, he is a mender of reputations. Scan. A mender of reputations! ay, just as he is a keeper of secrets, another virtue that he sets up for in the same manner. For the rogue will speak aloud in the posture of a whisper; and deny a woman's name, while he gives you the marks. of her person. He will forswear receiving a let ter from her, and at the same time shew you her hand in the superscription: and yet perhaps he has counterfeited her hand too, and sworn to a truth; but he hopes not to be believed; and refuses the reputation of a lady's favour, as a doctor says no to a bishoprick, only that it may be granted him.-In short, he is a public professor | Val. Why, Tattle, you need not be much concerned at any thing that he says: for to converse with Scandal, is to play at Losing Loadum ; you must lose a good name to him, before you can win it for yourself. Tat. But how barbarous that is, and how unfortunate for him, that the world should think the better of any person for his calumniation!-I thank Heaven, it has always been a part of my character to handle the reputations of others very tenderly indeed. Scan. Ay, such rotten reputations as you have to deal with are to be handled tenderly indeed. Tat. Nay, why rotten? why should you say rotten, when you know not the persons of whom you speak? How cruel that is! Scan. Not know them? Why, thou never hadst to do with any one that did not stink to all the town. Tat. Ha, ha, ha! nay, now you make a jest of it indeed. For there is nothing more known, than that nobody knows any thing of that nature of me. As I hope to be saved, Valentine, I never exposed a woman, since I knew what woman was. Val. And yet you have conversed with several ? Tat. To be free with you I have-I don't care if I own that-nay, more (I'm going to say a bold word now), I never could meddle with a woman that had to do with any body else. Scan. How! Val. Nay, faith, I'm apt to believe him—except her husband, Tattle. Tat. Oh that Scan. What think you of that noble commoner, Mrs Drab? Tat. Pooh! I know madam Drab has made her brags in three or four places, that I said this and that, and writ to her, and did I know not whatbut, upon my reputation, she did me wrongwell, well, that was malice-but I know the bottom of it. She was bribed to that by one we all know-a man too-only to bring me into disgrace with a certain woman of quality Scan. Whom we all know. Tat. No matter for that-Yes, yes, every body knows-no doubt on't, every body knows my secrets!-But I soon satisfied the lady of my innocence; for I told her-Madam, says I, there are some persons who make it their business to tell stories, and say this and that of one and the other, and every thing in the world; and, says I, if your grace Scan. Grace ! Tat. O Lord, what have I said!- -My unlucky tongue! Val. Ha, ha, ha! Scan. Why, Tattle, thou hast more impudence than one can in reason expect: I shall have an esteem for thee-well, and, ha, ha, ha! well, go on, and what did you say to her grace? Val. I confess this is something extraordinary. Tut. Not a word, as I hope to be saved; an arrant lapsus lingua !-Come, let us talk of something else. Val. Well, but how did you acquit yourself? Tat. Pooh, pooh, nothing at all, I only rallied with you.-A woman of ordinary rank was a little jealous of me, and I told her something or other -faith, I know not what,-Come, let's talk of something else. [Hums a song. Scan. Hang him, let him alone; he has a mind we should inquire. Tat. Valentine, I supped last night with your mistress, and her uncle old Foresight: I think your father lies at Foresight's. Val. Yes. Tat. Why then, as I hope to be saved, I believe a woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself. Scan. No doubt of it. Well, but has she done you wrong, or no? You have had her, ha? Tat. Though I have more honour than to tell first, I have more manners than to contradict what a lady has declared. Scan. Well, you own it ? Tat. I am strangely surprised! Yes, yes! I cannot deny it, if she taxes me with it. Scan. She'll be here by and by; she sees Valentine every morning. Tat. How! Val. She does me the favour-I mean, of a visit sometimes. I did not think she had granted more to any body. Scan. Nor I, faith. But Tattle does not use to belie a lady; it is contrary to his character.How one may be deceived in a woman, Valentine! Tat. Nay, what do you mean, gentlemen? Scan. I'm resolved I'll ask her. Tut. O barbarous ! Why did you not tell meScan. No, you told us. Tat. And bid me ask Valentine? Fal. What did I say? I hope you won't bring VOL. III. me to confess an answer, when you never asked me the question! Tat. But, gentlemen, this is the most inhuman proceeding. Val. Nay, if you have known Scandal thus long, and cannot avoid such a palpable decoy as this was, the ladies have a fine time, whose reputa. tions are in your keeping. Enter JEREMY. Jer. Sir, Mrs Frail has sent to know if you are stirring. Val. Shew her up when she comes. [Exit JER. Tat. I'll be gone. Val. You'll meet her. Tat. Is there not a back way! Val. If there were, you have more discretion than to give Scandal such an advantage; why, your running away will prove all that he can tell her. Tat. Scandal, you will not be so ungenerousO, I shall lose my reputation of secrecy for ever. -I shall never be received but upon public days; and my visits will never be admitted beyond a drawing-room; I shall never see a bed-chamber again, never be locked in a closet, nor run behind a screen, or under a table; never be distinguished among the waiting women by the name of trusty Mr Tattle more. -You will not be so cruel ? Val. Scandal, have pity on him; he'll yield to any conditions. Tat. Any, any terms. Scan. Come then, sacrifice half a dozen women of good reputation to me presently.—Come, where are you familiar?--And see that they are women of quality too, the first quality. Tat. 'Tis very hard.-Won't a baronet's lady pass? Scan. No, nothing under a right honourable. Tat. O inhuman! You don't expect their names? Scan. No, their titles shall serve. Tat. Alas, that is the same thing. Pray spare me their titles; I'll describe their persons. Scan. Well, begin then. But take notice, if you are so ill a painter, that I cannot know the person by your picture of her, you must be condemned, like other bad painters, to write the name at the bottom. Val. What, you will allow an absent loverMrs F. No, I'll allow a lover present with his mistress to be particular-but otherwise I think his passion ought to give place to his manners. Val. But what if he has more passion than manners? Mrs F. Then let him marry, and reform. Val. Marriage indeed may qualify the fury of his passion; but it very rarely mends a man's manners. Mrs F. You are the most mistaken in the world: there is no creature perfectly civil, but a husband: for in a little time he grows only rude to his wife; and that is the highest good breeding, for it begets his civility to other people. Well, I'll tell you news; but, I suppose, you heard your brother Benjamin is landed. And my brother Foresight's daughter is conie out of the country-I assure you, there's a match talked of by the old people.Well, if he be but as great a sea beast, as she is a land monster, we shall have a most amphibious breed the progeny will be all otters: he has been bred at sea, and she has never been out of the country. Val. Pox take them! their conjunction bodes me no good, I'm sure. Mrs F. Now you talk of conjunction, my brother Foresight has cast both their nativities, and prognosticates an admiral and an eminent justice of the peace to be the issue male of their two bodies. 'Tis the most superstitious old fool! He would have persuaded me, that this was an unlucky day, and would not let me come abroad: but I invented a dream, and sent him to Artemidorus for interpretation, and so stole out to see you. Well, and what will you give me now? Come, I must have something. Val. Step into the next room-and I'll give you something. Scan. Ay, we'll all give you something, Mrs F. I thought you would give me something that would be a trouble to you to keep. Val. And Scandal shall give you a good name. Mrs F. That's more than he has for himself. And what will you give me, Mr Tattle? Tat. I! My soul, madam. Mrs F. Pooh, no, I thank you, I have enough to do to take care of my own. Well; but I'll come and see you one of these mornings: I hear, you have a great many pictures. Tat. I have a pretty good collection, at your service; some originals. Scan. Hang him, he has nothing but the Seasons and the Twelve Cæsars, paltry copies; and the Five Senses, as ill represented as they are in himself; and he himself is the only original you will see there. Mrs F. Ay, but I hear he has a closet of beau tics. Scan. Yes, all that have done him favours, if you will believe him. Mrs F. Ay, let me see those, Mr Tattle. contemplation. No man but the painter and myself was ever blest with the sight. Mrs F. Well, but a woman Tat. Nor woman, till she consented to have her picture there too for then she is obliged to keep the secret. Seun, No, no! come to me if you'd see pictures. Scan. Yes, faith, I can shew your own picture, and most of your acquaintance, to the life, and as like as at Kneller's. Mrs F. Olying creature I-Valentine, does not he lie ?—I cann't believe a word he says. Val. No, indeed, he speaks truth now; for, as Tattle has pictures of all that have granted him fayours, he has the pictures of all that have refused him-if satires, descriptions, characters, and lampoons, are pictures. Scan, Yes, mine are most in black and whiteand yet there are some set out in their true colours, both men and women. I can shew you pride, folly, affectation, wantonness, inconstancy, covetous❘ness, dissimulation, malice, and ignorance, all in one piece. Then I can shew you lying, foppery, vanity, cowardice, bragging, lechery, impotence, and ugliness, in another piece; and yet one of these is a celebrated beauty, and t'other a professed beau. I have paintings too, some pleasant enough. Mrs F. Come, let's hear them. Scan. Why, I have a beau in a bagnio, cupping for a complexion, and sweating for a shape. Mrs F. So! Scan. Then I have a lady burning brandy in a cellar with a hackney-coachman. Mrs F. O devil! Well, but that story is not true. Scan. I have some hieroglyphicks too. I have a lawyer, with a hundred hands, two heads, and but one face; a divine, with two faces, and ene head; and I have a soldier, with his brains in his belly, and his heart where his head should be. Mrs F. And no head? Scan. No head. Mrs F. Pooh, this is all invention. Have you never a poet? Scan. Yes, I have a poet, weighing words, and selling praise for praise: and a critic picking his pocket, I have another large piece too, representing a school; where there are huge proportioned critics, with long wigs, laced coats, Steinkirk cravats, and terrible faces ; with catcalls in their hands, and horn-books about their necks. I have many more of this kind, very well painted, as you shail see. Mrs F. Well, I'll come, if it be but to disprove you. Enter JEREMY, Jer. Sir, here's the steward again from your father. Val. I'll come to him.-Will you give me leave? I'll wait on you again presently. Mrs F. No, I'll be gone. Come, who squires For. I say, you lic, sir. It is impossible that any thing should be as I would have it; for I was born, sir, when the Crab was ascending; and all my affairs go backward. Serv. I cann't tell indeed, sir. For. No, I know you cann't sir. But I can tell and foretell, sir. Enter Nurse. For. Nurse, where's your young mistress? Nurse. Wee'st heart! I know not; they're none of them come yet. Poor child, I warrant she's fond of seeing the town!Marry, pray Heaven they have given her any dinner!-Good lack-a-day, ha, ha, ha! O strange; I'll vow and swear now, ha, ha, ha! marry, and did you ever see the like? For. Why, how now, what's the matter? Nurse. Pray Heaven send your worship good luck! marry, and amen, with all my heart! for you have put on one stocking with the wrong side outward. For. Ha, how? Faith and troth I'm glad of it; and so I have; that may be good luck in troth; in troth it may, very good luck : nay, I have had some omens. I got out of bed backwards too this morning, without premeditation; pretty good that too. But then I stumbled coming down stairs, and met a weasel; bad omens those! Some bad, some good; our lives are chequered: mirth and sorrow, want and plenty, night and day, make up our time. But, in troth, I am pleased at my stocking-very well pleased at my stocking!-Oh, here's my niece!-Sirrah, go tell Sir Sampson Legend I'll wait on him if he's at leisure-'Tis now three o'clock, a very good hour for business; Mercury governs this hour. (Erit Servant. Enter ANGELICA. Ang. Is it not a good hour for pleasure, too, uncle? Pray lend me your coach; mine's out of order. For. What, would you be gadding too? Sure all females are mad to-day.-It is of evil portent, and bodes mischief to the master of a family.-I remember an old prophecy written by Messahalah the Arabian, and thus translated by a reverend Buckinghamshire bard: When housewives all the house forsake, Fruitful, the head fruitful! that bodes horns; the fruit of the head is horns. Dear niece, stay at home-for by the head of the house is meant the husband; the prophecy needs no explanation. Ang. Well, but I can neither make you a cuckold, uncle, by going abroad; nor secure you from being one by staying at home. For. Yes, yes; while there's one woman left, the prophecy is not in full force. Ang. But my inclinations are in force. I have a mind to go abroad; and if you won't lend me your coach, I'll take a hackney, or a chair; and leave you to erect a scheme, and find who's in conjunction with your wife. Why don't you keep her at home, if you're jealous of her when she's abroad? You know my aunt is a little retrograde (as you call it) in her nature. Uncle, I'm afraid you are not lord of the ascendant! ha, ha, ha! For. Well, jill-flirt, you are very pert—and always ridiculing that celestial science. Ang. Nay, uncle, don't be angry-If you are, I'll reap up all your false prophecies, ridiculous dreams, and idle divinations. I'll swear, you are a nuisance to the neighbourhood.-What a bustle did you keep against the last invisible eclipse, laying in provision, as it were for a siege! What a world of fire and candle, matches and tinderboxes, did you purchase !-One would have thought we were ever after to live under ground; or at least make a voyage to Greenland, to inhabit there all the dark season. For. Why, you malapert slut! Ang. Will you lend me your coach? or I'll go on. --Nay, I'll declare how you prophesied popery was coming, only because the butler had mislaid some of the apostle spoons, and thought they were lost. Away went religion and spoon-meat together!-Indeed, uncle, I'll indict you for a wizard. For. How, hussy! was there ever such a provoking minx! Nurse. O merciful father, how she talks! Ang. Yes, I can make oath of your unlawful midnight practices; you and the old nurse there. I Nurse. Marry, Heaven defend !—I at midnight practices!-O Lord, what's here to do ?—I in unlawful doings with my master's worship!--Why, did you ever hear the like now?-Sir, did ever do any thing of your midnight concerns, but warm your bed, and tuck you up, and set the candle and your tobacco-box and your urinal by you, and now and then rub the soles of your feet?-O Lord, I! Ang. Yes, I saw you together, through the keyhole of the closet, one night, like Saul and the witch of Endor, turning the sieve and sheers, and pricking your thumbs, to write poor innocent servants' names in blood, about a little nutmeg-grater, which she had forgot in the caudle-cup.-Nay, I know something worse, if I would speak of it! For. I defy you, hussy; but I'll remember this. I'll be revenged on you, cockatrice; I'll hamper you-You have your fortune in your own hands -but I'll find a way to make your lover, your prodigal spendthrift gallant, Valentine, pay for all, I will. Ang. Will you? I care not; but all shall out then.-Look to it, nurse; I can bring witness that you have a great unnatural teat under your left arm, and he another; and that you suckle a young devil, in the shape of a tabby cat, by turns; I can. Nurse. A teat, a teat, I an unnatural teat! O the false, slanderous thing! Feel, feel here, if I have any thing but like another christian! [Crying. For. I will have patience, since it is the will of the stars I should be thus tormented-this is the effect of the malicious conjunctions and oppositions in the third house of my nativity; there the curse of kindred was foretold-But I will have my doors locked up-I'll punish you; not a man shall enter my house. Ang. Do, uncle, lock them up quickly, before my aunt comes home-you'll have a letter for alimony to-morrow morning !—But let me be gone first; and then let no mankind come near the house; but converse with spirits and the celestial signs, the bull and the ram, and the goat. Bless me, there are a great many horned beasts among the twelve signs, uncle ! But cuckolds go to Hea ven ! For. But there's but one virgin among the twelve signs, spit-fire !-but one virgin! Ang. Nor there had not been that one, if she had had to do with any thing but astrologers, uncle! That makes my aunt go abroad. | For. How! how! is that the reason? Come, you know something; tell me, and I'll forgive you; do, good niece.-Come, you shall have my coach and horses-faith and troth, you shall.Does my wife complain? Come, I know women tell one another. She is young and sanguine, has a wanton hazel eye, and was born under Gemini, which may incline her to society; she has a mole upon her lip, with a moist palm, and an open liberality on the mount of Venus.Ang. Ha, ha, ha! For. Do you laugh? Well, gentlewoman, I'll -But come, be a good girl, don't perplex your poor uncle! Tell me-won't you speak?-Odd, I'll Enter Servant. Serv. Sir Sampson is coming down, to wait upon you, sir. [Exit. Ang. Good b'ye, uncle.-Call me a chair.-I'll find out my aunt, and tell her, she must not come home. [Exit. For. I am so perplexed and vexed, I am not fit to receive him; I shall scarce recover myself before the hour be past. Go, nurse; tell Sir Sampson I'm ready to wait on him. Nurse. Yes, sir. [Erit. For. Well-why, if I was born to be a cuckold, there's no more to be said!-He is here already. Enter Sir SAMPSON LEGEND with a paper. Sir S. Nor no more to be done, old boy, that is plain-here it is, I have it in my hand, old Ptolomy; I'll make the ungracious prodigal know who begat him; I will, old Nostrodamus. What, I warrant, my son thought nothing belonged to a father, but forgiveness and affection; no authority, no correction, no arbitrary power-nothing to be done, but for him to offend, and me to pardon! I warrant you, if he danced till doomsday, he thought I was to pay the piper. Well, but here it is under black and white, signatum, sigillatum, and deliberatum-that, as soon as my son Benjamin is arrived, he is to make over to him his right of inheritance.-Where's my daughter that is to be-ha! old Merlin? Body of me, I'm so glad I'm revenged on this undutiful rogue! For. Odso, let me see; let me see the paper. Ay, faith and troth, here it is, if it will but hold -I wish things were done, and the conveyance made. When was this signed? what hour? Odso, you should have consulted me for the time. Well, but we'll make haste. Sir S. Haste! ay, ay, haste enough; my son Ben will be in town to-night-I have ordered my lawyer to draw up writings of settlement and jointure-all shall be done to-night.-No matter for the time; pr'ythee, brother Foresight, leave superstition.-Pox o'th' time; there's no time but the time present; there's no more to be said of what's past; and all that is to come will happen. If the sun shine by day, and the stars by night-why, we shall know one another's faces without the help of a candle; and that's all the stars are good for. |