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younger brother. But are not you under strange trigue will beget another, as soon as beget a son agitations ? Pr’ythee, how does your pulse beat ? or a daughter.
Bel. High and low; I have much ado to be Con. I am very sorry, sir, to see you still seem valiant. Is it not very strange to go to bed with unsatisfied with a lady, whose more than coma man?
mon virtue, I am sure, were she my wife, should L. Brute. Um-it is a little odd at first, but it meet a better usage. will soon grow easy to you.
Sir John. Sir, if her conduct has put a trick Enter CONSTANT and HEARTFREE.
upon her virtue, her virtue's a bubble, but her
husband's the loser. Good morrow, gentlemen : how have you slept Con. Sir, you have received a sufficient answer after your adventure ?
already, to justify both her conduct and mine. Heurt. Some careful thoughts, ladies, on your You'll pardon me for meddling in your family afaccounts, have kept us waking.
fairs; but I perceive I am the man you are jeaBel. And some careful thoughts on your own, lous of, and therefore it concerns me. I believe, have hindered you from sleeping. Pray, Sir John. Would it did not concern me, and how does this matrimonial project relish with then I should not care who it concerned.
Con. Well, sir, if truth and reason won't conHeart. Why, faith, e'en as storming towns tent you, I know but one way more, which, if does with soldiers, where the hopes of delicious you think fit, you may take. plunder banishes the fear of being knocked on the Sir John. Lord, sir, you are very hasty: if I head.
had been found at prayers in your wife's closet, Bel. Is it then possible, after all, that you dare I should have allowed you twice as much time to think of downright lawful wedlock ?
come to yourself in. Heart. Madam, you have made me so fool- Con. Nay, sir, if time be all you want, we have hardy, I dare do any thing.
no quarrel. Bel. Then, sir, I challenge you, and matrimo- Heart. I told you how the sword would work ny's the spot where I expect you.
(Sir John muses. Heurt. 'Tis enough ; I'll not fail. (Aside.] So, Con. Let him muse; however, I'll lay fifty now I am in for Hobbes's voyage; a great leap in pounds our foreman brings us in not guilty. the dark.
Sir John. [ Aside.] 'Tis very well-e'tis very L. Brute. Well, gentlemen, this matter being well—In spite of that young jade's matrimonial concluded then, have you got your lessons ready? intrigue, I am a downright stinking cuckold-Here for Sir John is grown such an atheist of late, he'll they are-B00—[Putting his hand to his fore. believe nothing upon easy terms.
heud.] Methinks I could butt with a bull. What Con. We'll find means to extend his faith, ma- the plague did I marry for? I knew she did not dam. But pray how do you find him this morn- like me; if she had, she would have lain with ing?
me; for I would have done so, because I liked L. Brute. Most lamentably morose; chewing her; but that's past, and I have her. And now the cud after last night's discovery, of which, what shall I do with her ? -If I put my horns inhowever, he has but a confused notion e'en now. to my pocket, sbe'll grow insolent—if I don't, But I'm afraid the valet de chambre has told him that goat there, that stallion, is ready to whip me all; for they are very busy together at this mo- through the guts.-The debate then is reduced to ment. When I told him of Belinda's marriage, this; shall I die a hero, or live a rascal ?-Why, I had no other answer but a grunt; from which wiser men than I have long since concluded, that you may draw what conclusions you think fit. a living dog is better than a dead lion. (To Con. But to your notes, gentlemen : he's here. and Heart.] Gentlemen, now my wine and my
passion are governable, I must own, I have neEnter Sir John and Rasor.
ver observed any thing in my wife's course of Con. Good morrow, sir.
life, to back me in my jealousy of her ; but jeaHeart. Good morrow, Sir John; I'm very lousy's a mark of love; so she need not trouble sorry my indiscretion should cause so much dis her head about it, as long as I make no more order in your family.
words on't. Sir John. Disorders generally come from in- Lady Fancyful enters disguised, and addresses discretion, sir : 'tis no strange thing at all.
BELINDA apurt. L. Brute. I hope, my dear, you are satisfied there was no wrong intended you.
Con. I'm glad to see your reason rule at last. Sir John. Noue, my dove.
Give me your hand: I hope you'll look upon me Bel. If not, I hope my consent to marry Mr as you used to do. Heartfree will convince you. For, as little as I Sir John. Your humble servant. (Aside.) A know of amours, sir, I can assure you, one in wheedling son of a whore ! trigue is enough to bring four people together, Heart. And that I may be sure you are friends without further mischief.
with me too, pray give me your consent to wed Sir John. And I know too, that intrigues tend your niece. to procreation of more kinds than one. One in- Sir John. Sir, you have it with all my heart ;
damn me if you ha’n’t. (Aside.] 'Tis time to get Sir John. Zoons, what do you both mean? rid of her; a young pert pimp: she'll make an
[HEART. and Bel. walk chafing about. incomparable bawd in a little time.
Rusor. (Aside.) Here is so much sport going to
be spoiled, it makes me ready to weep again. Enter a Servant, who gives HEARTFREE a
A pox o’ this impertinent Lady Fancyful, and Letter.
her plots, and her Frenchwoman too; she's a Bel. Heartfree your husband, say you ? 'Tis whimsical, ill-natured bitch, and when I have got impossible !
my bones broke in her service, 'tis ten to one but L. Fun. Would to kind Heaven it were ; but my recompence is a clap: I hear them tittering 'tis too true; and in the world there lives not without still. I'cod, I'll e'en go lug them both in such a wretch. I'm young; and either I have by the ears, and discover the plot, to secure my been flattered by my friends, as well as glass, or pardon.
[Exit. Nature has been kind and generous to me. ! Con. Pr’ythee explain, Heartfree. had a fortune too was greater far than he could Heurt. A fair deliverance ; thank my stars and ever hope for; but with my heart I am robbed of all the rest. I am slighted and I'm beggared Bel
. 'Tis well it went no farther: a base felboth at once; I have scarce a bare subsistence low! from the villain, yet dare complain to none; for L. Brute. What can be the meaning of all this? he has sworn, if ever 'tis known I am his wife, Bel. What's his meaning, I don't know; but he'll murder me.
[IVeeping. mine is, that if I had married him, I had had no Bel. The traitor!
husband. L. Fun. I accidentally was told he courted you: Heart. And what's her meaning, I don't charity soon prevailed upon me to prevent your know; but mine is, that if I had married her, I misery; and, as you see, I am still so generous, had had wife enough. even to him, as not to suffer he should do any Sir John. Your people of wit have got such thing for which the law might take away his life. cramp ways of expressing themselves, they sel
(Weeping dom comprehend one another. Pox take you Bel. Poor creature ! How I pity her! both! will you speak, that you may be understood:
[They continue talking aside. Heart. [ Aside.] Death and the devil ! -Let me
Enter Rasor in Sackcloth, pulling in Lady read it again. (Reads.] “ Though I have a parti
FANCYFUL and MADEMOISELLE. cular reason not to let you know who I am till I Rasor. If they won't, here comes an interpresee you, yet you'll easily believe 'tis a faithful ter. friend that gives you this advice. I have lain L. Brute. Heavens! What have we here? with Belinda~(Good !)— I have a child by her- Rasor. A villain—but a repenting villain. (Better and better !)- which is now out at nurse All. Rasor! -(Heaven be praised !)—and I think the founda- L. Brute. What means this? tion laid for another.—(Ha !-old true-penny !) Rasor. Nothing, without my pardon. -No rack could have tortured this story from me, L. Brute. What pardon do you want? but friendship has done it. I heard of your de. Rasor. Imprimis. Your ladyship’s, for a damsign to marry her, and could not see you abused. nable lie made upon your spotless virtue, and set Make use of my advice, but keep my secret till I to the tune of Spring Garden. (To Sir John. ask you for't again. Adieu.” [Exit L. Fan.
Next, at my generous master's feet I bend, for inCon. (To Belinda.) Come, madam, shall we terrupting his inore noble thoughts with pharsend for the parson? I doubt here's no business toms of disgraceful cuckoldom. (To Constant.} for the lawyers; younger brothers have nothing Thirdly, I to this gentleman apply, for making to settle but their hearts, and that I believe my him the hero of my romance. [TO HEARTFREE. Criend liere has already done very faithfully. Fourthly, your pardon, noble sir, I ask, for clan
Bel. (Scornfully.] Are you sure, sir, there are destinely marrying you, without either bidding of no old mortgages upon it?
banns, bishop's licence, friend's consent, or your Heart. (Coldly.] If you think there are, ma- own knowledge. (To BELINDA.] And lastly, to dam, it mayn't he amiss to defer the marriage my good young lady's clemency I come, for pretill you are sure they are paid off.
tending the corn was sowed in the ground, before Bel. We'll defer as long as you please, sir. ever the plough had been in the field.
Heart. The more time we take to consider Sir John. (Aside.] So that, after all, 'tis a moot on't, madam, the less apt we shall be to commit point whether I am a cuckold or not oversights ; therefore, if you please, we will put Bel. Well, sir, upon condition you confess all, it off for just nine months
I'll pardon you myself, and try to obtain as much Bel. Guilty consciences make men cowards. from the rest of the company. But I must know Heart. And they make women desperate. then who 'tis has put you upon all this mischief. Bel. I don't wonder you want time to resolve. Rasor. Satan and his equipage: woman tempt
Heart. I don't wonder you are so quickly deed me, vice weakened me and so the devil overtermined.
came me: as fell Adam, so fell I. Bel. What does the fellow mean?
Bel. Then pray, Mr Adam, will you make us Heart. What does the lady mean?
acquainted with your Eve?
Rasor. (TO MADEM.] Unmask, for the honour | Belinda, you think you triumph over a rival now: of France.
Helas ! ma pauvre fille. Where'er I am a rival, All. Mademoiselle !
there's no cause for mirth. No, my poor wretch, Madem. Me ask ten tousand pardon of all de 'tis from another principle I have acted. I knew good company.
that thing there would make so perverse a husSir Jolin. Why, this mystery thickens, instead band, and you so impertinent a wife, that lest your of clearing up. (To RASOR.) You son of a whore mutual plagues should make you both run mad, I you, put us out of our pain.
charitably would have broke the match. He, he, Rusor. One moment brings sunshine. (Shewing he, he, he ! Madem.] 'Tis true, this is the woman that (Erit, laughing affectedly, MADEM. followtempted me, but this is the serpent that tempted the woman; and if my prayers might be heard, Madem. He, he, he, he, he ! her punishment for so doing should be like the All. Ha, ha, ha, ba, ha! serpent's of old [Pulls off Lady FANCYFUL'S Sir John. (Aside.] Why now, this woman will mask]-she should lie upon her face all the days be married to somebody too. of her life.
Bel. Poor creature! What a passion she is in! All. Lady Fancyful !
but I forgive her. Bel. Impertinent !
Heart. Since you have so much goodness for L. Brute. Ridiculous !
her, I hope you'll pardon my offence too, madam. All. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Bel. There will be no great difficulty in that, Bel. I hope your ladyship will give me leave to since I am guilty of an equal fault. wish you joy, since you have owned your marri- Heart. So, madam, now had the parson but age yourself.—[To HEART.) I vow 'twas strange- done hiş businessly wicked in you to think of another wife, when Bel. You'd be half weary of your bargain. you have one already so charming as her lady- Heart. No, sure, I might dispense with one ship.
night's lodging. All. Ha, ha, ba, ha, ha!
Bel. I am ready to try, sir. L. Fun. (Aside.] Confusion seize 'em, as it Heart. Then let's to church; seizes me!
And if it be our chance to disagreeMadem. Que le diable etouffe ce maraut de Bel. Take heed—the surly husband's fate you Rasor!
Bel. Your laclyship seems disordered: a breed. Sir John. Surly I may be, stubborn I am not, ing qualm, perhaps, Mr Heartfree: your bottle of For I have both forgiven and forgot ; Hungary water to your lady. Why, madam, he If so, be these our judges, Mrs Pert, stands as unconcerned as if he were your hus- 'Tis more by my goodness, than your desert. band in earnest.
(Exeunt omnes. L. Fun. Your mirth's as nauseous as yourself.
SPOKEN BY LADY BRUTE AND BELINDA. L. Brute. No epilogue !
L. Brute. O, for the world I would not have preBel. I swear I know of none.
cedence. L. Brute. Lord ! How shall we excuse it to the Bel. O Lord ! town?
L. Brute. I swearBel. Why, we must e’en say something of Bel. O fie! our own.
L. Brute. I'm all obedience. L. Brute. Our own! Ay, that must needs be pre
First, then, know all, before our doom cious stuff.
is fix'd, Bel. I'll lay my life they'll like it well enough.
The third day is for us-
Bel. Nay, and the sixth.
L. Brule. We speak not from the poet now, nor Bel. Nay, pardon me for that, I know my
His muse(I want a rhyme)-
L. Brule. Then sure you cannot have the hearts
to be severe,
And damn us Bel. Damn us! Let 'em, if they dare. L. Brute. Why, if they should, what punishment
remains ? Bel. Eternal exile from behind our scenes. L. Brute, But if they're kind, thât sentence we'll
We can be grateful Bel. And have wherewithall. L. Brute. But as grand treaties hope not to be
Before preliminaries are adjusted, Bel, You know the time, and we appoint
this place, Where, if you please, we'll meet, and
sign the peace.
SPOKEN BY A SHABBY POET.
YE gods! what crime had my poor father done, , Your fire has made him play a thousand pranks, That you should make a poet of his son? For which, no doubt, you've had his daily thanks. Or is't for some great services of his,
He'as thank'd you first for all his decent plays, Y'are pleased to compliment his boy-with Where he so nick'd it, when he writ for praise; this? (Shewing his crown of laurel. Next, for his meddling with some folk in black,
And bringing-souse-a priest upon his back ; The honour, I must needs confess, is great, For building houses here, t'oblige the peers, If, with his crown, you'd tell him where to eat. And fetching all their house about his ears ; 'Tis well-But I have more complaints look for a new play he'as now thought fit to write,
here! (Shewing his ragged coat. To soothe the town—which they—will damn toHark ye:-D'ye think this suit good winter wear? In a cold morning, --whu—at a lord's gate, How you have let the porter let me wait !
These benefits are such, no man can doubt You'll say, perhaps, you knew I'd get no harm ; But he'll go on, and set your fancy out, You'd given me fire enough to keep me warm. Till, for reward of all his noble deeds, Ah
At last, like other sprightly folks, he speeds ; A world of blessings to that fire we owe; Has this great recompence fixed on his brow Without it I'd ne'er made this princely show. As fam’d Parnassus; has your leave to bow I have a brother too, now iu my sight,
And walk about the streets-equipp'd—as I am (Looking behind the scenes.
now, A busy man amongst us here to-night:
ARAMINTA, Wife to MONEYTRAP, very intimate GRIPE,
with CLARISSA, of the same humour. MONEYTRAP,
two rich Money-scriveners. CORINNA, Daughter to GRIPE by a former Dick, a Gamester, son to Mrs Amlet.
wife, a good fortune, young, and kept very Brass, his Companion, passes for his valet de
close by her father. chambre.
FLIPPANTA, Clarissa's Maid. CLIP, a Goldsmith.
Mrs Amlet, a Seller of all sorts of private AfJESSAMIN, Foot-boy to CLARISSA.
fairs to the Ladies.
Mrs CLOGGIT, her Neighbour.
SCENE,-London.— The Time equal to that of the Representation.