house is always open to the masques upon a ballnight, before they go the Hay-Market. C. Bus. Good. Myr. Now the doctor purposes we should all come thither in our habits, and when the rooms are full, we may steal up into his chamber, he says, and there-crack-he'll give us all canonical commission to go to bed together. C. Bas. Admirable! Well, the devil fetch me, if I shall not be heartily glad to see thee settled, child. Myr. Yours, as in duty bound, most noble Count Basset. [Erit MYR. C. Bas. Why, ay, count! That title has been of some use to me indeed; not that I have any more pretence to it than I have to a blue ribband; yet I have made a pretty considerable figure in life with it: I have lolled in my own chariot, dealt at assemblies, dined with ambassadors, and made one at quadrille with the first women of quality well-but-tempora mutantur--since that damned squadron at White's have left me out of their last secret, I am reduced to trade upon my own stock of industry, and make my last push upon a wife if my card comes up right, (which I think cann't fail,) I shall once more cut a figure, and cock my hat in the face of the best of them! For since our modern men of fortune are grown wise enough to be sharpers, I think sharpers are fools, that don't take up the airs of men of quality. Myr. And may the black gentleman tuck me under his arm at the same time, if I shall not think myself obliged to you as long as I live. C. Bus. One kiss for old acquaintance sake'Egad, I shall want to be busy again. you Myr. O, you'll have one shortly will find employment; but I must run to my squire. C. Bus. And I to the ladies- so your humble servant, sweet Mrs Wronghead. (Exit. SCENE I.-Lord TOWNLY's House. ACT V. L. Grace. I fear is on the brink of ruin! Man. I am sorry for it.-What has happened? L. Grace. Nothing so very new; but the continual repetition of it at last has raised my brother to an intemperance that I tremble at. Man. Have they had any words upon it? L. Grace. He has not seen her since yesterday. Man. What! not at home all night! L. Grace. About five this morning, in she came; but with such looks, and such an equipage of misfortunes at her heels-What can become of her? Man. Has not my lord seen her, say you? L. Grace. No; he changed his bed last night -I sat with him alone till twelve, in expectation of her; but when the clock struck, he started from his chair, and grew incensed to that degree, that had I not, almost on my knees, dissuaded him, he had ordered the doors that instant to have been locked against her. Alan. How terrible is his situation? when the most justifiable severities he can use against her are liable to be the mirth of all the dissolute card-tables in town! L. Grace. 'Tis that, I know, has made him bear so long; but you that feel for him, Mr Manly, will assist him to support his honour, and, if possible, preserve his quiet; therefore I beg you don't leave the house, 'till one or both of them can be wrought to better temper. Man. How amiable is this concern in you! L. Grace. For Heaven's sake don't mind me, but think on something to preserve us all. Man. I shall not take the merit of obeying your commands, madam, to serve my lord-but pray, madam, let me into all that has past since yesternight. L. Grace. When my entreaties had prevailed upon my lord not to make a story for the town, by so public a violence as shutting her at once out of his doors, he ordered the next apartment to my lady's to be made ready for him--While that was doing--I tried, by all the little arts I was mistress of, to amuse him into temper: in short, a silent grief was all I could reduce him to -On this we took our leaves, and parted to our repose: What his was, I imagine by my own; for I ne'er closed my eyes. About five, as I told you, I heard my lady at the door; so I slipt on a gown, and sat almost an hour with her, in her own chamber. Man. What said she, when she did not find my lord there? L. Grace. O! so far from being shocked or alarmed at it, that she blessed the occasion, and said, that, in her condition, the chat of a female friend was far preferable to the best husband's company in the world. Man. Where has she spirits to support so much insensibility? L. Gruce. Nay, 'tis incredible; for though she had lost every shilling she bad in the world, and stretched her credit even to breaking, she rallied her own follies with such vivacity, and painted the penance she knows she must undergo for them in such ridiculous lights, that had not my concern for a brother been too strong for her wit, she had almost disarmed my anger. Man. Her mind may have another cast by this time The most flagrant dispositions have their hours of anguish, which their pride conceals from company-But pray, madam, how could she avoid coming down to dine? L. Grace. O! she took care of that before she went to bed, by ordering her woman, whenever she was asked for, to say she was not well. Mon. You have seen her since she was up, I presume? L. Grace. Up! I question whether she be awake yet. Man. Terrible! What a figure does she make now! That nature should throw away so much beauty upon a creature, to make such a slatternly use of it! L. Grace. O fie! there is not a more elegant beauty in town, when she's drest. Man. In my eye, madam, she that's early drest has ten times her elegance. L. Grace. But she won't be long now, I believe; for I think I see her chocolate going up.Mrs Trusty--a-hem ! Mrs TRUSTY comes to the door. Man. [Aside.] Five o'clock in the afternoon, for a lady of quality's breakfast, is an elegant hour indeed; which, to shew her more polite way of living too, I presume she eats in her bcd. L. Gruce. To Mrs TRUSTY.] And when she is up, I would be glad she would let me come to her toilet- that's all, Mrs Trusty. Trus. I will be sure to let her ladyship know. [Exit Mrs TRUSTY. Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir Francis Wronghead, sir, desires to speak with you. Man. He comes unseasonably-What shall I do with him? L. Grace. O, see him by all means: we shall have time enough: in the meanwhile I'll step in and have an eye upon my brother. Nay, don't mind me you have business. Man. You must be obeyed [Retreating while Lady GRACE goes out. Desire Sir Francis to walk in--[Exit Servant. I suppose by this time his wise worship begins to find that the balance of his journey to London is on the wrong side. Enter Sir FRANCIS. Sir Fran. Is playing the devil! Man. Why, truly, that's a part that most of your fine ladies begin with as soon as they get to London. Sir Fran. If I am a living man, cousin, she has made away with above two hundred and fifty pounds since yesterday morning! Man. Hah! I see a good housewife will do a great deal of work in a little time. Sir Fran. Work, do they call it? Fine work indeed! Man. Well, but how do you mean made away with it? What, she has laid it out, may be—but suppose you have an account of it. I Sir Fran. Yes, yes, I have had the account indeed; but I mun needs say it's a very sorry one. Man. Pray let's hear. Sir Fran. Why, first I let her have an hundred and fifty, to get things handsome about her, to let the world see that I was somebody; and I thought that sum was very genteel. Man. Indeed I think so; and in the country might have served her a twelve-month. Sir Fran. Why, so it might--but here in this fine town, forsooth! it could not get through four and-twenty hours--for in half that time it was all squandered away in baubles and new-fashioned trumpery. Man. O! for ladies in London, Sir Francis, all this might be necessary. Sir Fran. Noa! there's the plague on't! The devil o' one useful thing do I see for it, but two pair of laced shoes, and those stand me in three pound three shillings a pair too. Man. Dear sir, this is nothing. Why, we have city wives here, that while their good-man is selling three pennyworth of sugar, will give you twenty pound for a short apron. Sir Fran. Mercy on us! What a mortal poor devil is a husband! Man. Well, but I hope you have nothing else to complain of? Sir Fran. Ah! would I could say so toobut there's another hundred behind yet, that goes more to my heart than all that went before it. Man. And how might that be disposed of? Sir Fran. Troth, I am almost ashamed to tell you. Man. Out with it. Sir Fran. Why, she has been at an assembly. Man. What, since I saw you! I thought you had all supp'd at home last night. Sir Fran. Why, so we did——and all as mer ry as grigs-l'cod! my heart was so open, that I tossed another hundred into her apron, to go out Sir Francis, your servant: How came I by the fa- early this morning with-But the cloth was no vour of this extraordinary visit? Sir Fran. Ah, cousin! Mun. Why that sorrowful face, man? sooner taken away, than in comes my lady Townly here, (who, between you and I-mum! has had the devil to pay yonder,) with another rantipole dame of quality, and out they must have her, they said, to introduce her at my lady Noble's assembly, forsooth-A few words, you may be Sir Fran. I have played the fool by this jour-sure, made the bargain-so, bawnce! and away ney, I see now-for my bitter wife Man. What of her? they drive, as if the devil had got into the coachbox-So about four or five in the morning―― bome comes madam, with her eyes a foot deep in her head, and my poor hundred pound left behind her at the hazard-table. Man. All lost at dice! Sir Fran. Every shilling--among a parcel of pig-tail puppies and pale-faced women of quality. Man. But pray, Sir Francis, how came you, after you found her so ill an housewife of one sum, so soon to trust her with another? Sir Fran. Why, truly, I mun say that was partly my own fault; for if I had not been a blab of my tongue, I believe that last hundred might have been saved. Man. How so? Sir Fran. Why, like an owl as I was, out of good will, forsooth, partly to keep her in humour, I must needs tell her of the thousand pound ayear I had just got the promise of.-I'cod! she lays her claws upon it that moment――said it was all owing to her advice ; and, truly, she would have her share on't. Man. What, before you had it yourself? Sir Fran. Why, ay, that's what I told herMy dear, said I, mayhap I mayn't receive the first quarter on't this half year. Man. Sir Francis, I have heard you with a great deal of patience, and I really feel compassion for you. Sir Fran. Truly, and well you may, cousin; for I don't see that my wife's goodness is a bit the better for bringing to London. Man. If you remember, I gave you a hint of it. Sir Fran. Why, ay, it's true you did so; but the devil himself could not have believed she would have rid post to him. Man. Sir, if you stay but a fortnight in this town, you will every day see hundreds as fast upon the gallop as she is. Sir Fran. Ah! this London is a base place indeed-Waunds! if things should happen to go wrong with me at Westminster, at this rate, how the devil shall I keep out of a jail? Man. Why, truly, there seems to me but one way to avoid it. Sir Fran. Ah! would you could tell me that, cousin. Man. The way lies plain before you, sir-the same road that brought you hither will carry you safe home again. Sir Fran. Ods-flesh, cousin! What! and leave a thousand pound a-year behind me? Man. Pooh! pooh! leave any thing behind you but your family, and you are a saver by it. Sir Fran Ay, but consider, cousin, what a scurvy figure I shall make in the country, if I come down without it! Man. You will make a much more lamentable figure in a jail without it. Sir Fran. Mayhap 'at yow have no great opinion of it then, cousin? Man. Sir Francis, to do you the service of a real friend, I must speak very plainly to you-You don't yet see half the ruin that's before you! Sir Fran. Good lack! how may yow mean, cousin? Man. In one word, your whole affairs stand thus-In a week you'll lose your seat at Westminster : In a fortnight my lady will run you into jail, by keeping the best company: În fourand-twenty hours your daughter will run away with a sharper, because she ha'n't been used to better company; and your son will steal into marriage with a cast-mistress, because he has not been used to any company at all. Sir Fran. I' th' name o' goodness, why should you think all this? Man. Because I have proof of it. In short, I know so much of their secrets, that if all this is not prevented to-night, it will be out of your pow er to do it to-morrow morning. Sir Fran. Mercy upon us! you frighten meWell, sir, I will be governed by yow: But what am I to do in this case? Mun. I have not time here to give you proper instructions; but about eight this evening I'll call at your lodgings, and there you shall have full conviction how much I have it at heart to serve you. SCENE II-Opens to a Dressing-Room. Lady TOWNLY, as just up, walks to her toilet, leaning on Mrs TRUSTY. Trus. Dear madam, what should make your ladyship so out of order? Lady Town. How is it possible to be well, where one is killed for want of sleep? Trus. Dear me! it was so long before you rung, madam, I was in hopes your ladyship had been finely composed. Lady Town. Composed! Why, I have lain in an inn here! This house is worse than an inn with ten stage-coaches! What between my lord's impertinent people of business in a morning, and the intolerable thick shoes of footmen at noon, one has not a wink all night. Trus. Indeed, madam, it's a great pity my lord cann't be persuaded into the hours of people of qualityThough I must say that, madam-your ladyship is certainly the best matrimonial manager in town. Lady Town. Oh! you are quite mistaken, Trusty. I manage very ill; for notwithstanding all the power I have, by never being over-fond of my lord -yet I want money infinitely oftener than he is willing to give it me. Trus. Ah, if his lordship could but be brought to play himself, madam, then he might feel what it is to want money. Lady Town. Oh! don't talk of it! Do you know that I am undone, Trusty? Trus. Mercy forbid, madam! Lady Town. Broke! ruined! plundered!stripped, even to a confiscation of my last guinea! Trus. You don't tell me so, madam? Lady Town. And where to raise ten pound in the world-What is to be done, Trusty? Trus. Truly, I wish I were wise enough to tell you, madam: But may be your ladyship may have a run of better fortune upon some of the good company that comes here to-night. Lady Town. But I have not a single guinea to try my fortune! Trus. Ha! that's a bad business indeed, madam —Adad! I have a thought in my head, madam, if it is not too late. Lady Town. Out with it quickly then, I be scech thee. Trus. Has not the steward something of fifty pound, madam, that you left in his hands, to pay somebody about this time? Lady Town. O ay! I had forgot-'twas to —a—what's his filthy name? Trus. Now I remember, madam, 'twas to Mr Lutestring, your old mercer, that your ladyship turned off about a year ago, because he would trust you no longer. Lady Town. The very wretch! If he has not paid it, run quickly, dear Trusty, and bid him bring it hither immediately-[Exit TRUSTY] Well, sure mortal woman never had such for tune! Five! Five and nine against poor seven for ever!-No; after that horrid bar of my chance, that Lady Wronghead's fatal red fist upon the table, I saw it was impossible ever to win another stake.—Sit up all night! lose all one's money! dream of winning thousands! wake without a shilling! and then how like a hag I look! In short--the pleasures of life are not worth this disorder! If it were not for shame now, I could almost think Lady Grace's sober scheme not quite so ridiculous- -If my wise lord could but hold his tongue for a week, 'tis odds but I should hate the town in a fortnight -But I will not be driven out of it, that's positive! [TRUSTY returns. Trus. O, madam, there is no bearing it! Mr Lutestring was just let in at the door as I came to the stair-foot; and the steward is now actually paying him the money in the hall. Lady Town. Run to the stair-case head again -and scream to him that I must speak with him this instant. [TRUSTY runs out, and speaks. Trus. Mr Poundage--a-hem! Mr Poundage, a word with you quickly. [Without. Pound. [Within.] I'll come to you presently. Trus. Presently won't do, man; you must come this minute. [Without. Pound. I am but just paying a little money here. [Without. Trus. Cods my life! Paying money? Is the man distracted? Come here, I tell you, to my lady, this moment; quick. [Without.] [TRUSTY returns. Lady Town. Will the monster come or no? Trus. Yes, I hear him now, madam; he is hobbling up as fast as he can. Lady Town. Don't let him come in-for he will keep such a babbling about his accountsmy brain is not able to bear him. [POUNDAGE comes to the door with a money-bag in his hand. Trus. O! it's well you are come, sir! Where's the fifty pound? Pound. Why, here it is; if you had not been in such haste, I should have paid it by this timethe man's now writing a receipt below for it. Trus. No matter: my lady says you must not pay him with that money; there is not enough, it seems; there's a pistole and a guinea that is not good in it-besides, there is a mistake in the account too-[Twitching the bag from him]but she is not at leisure to examine it now; so you must bid Mr What-d'ye-call-um call another time Lady Town. What is all that noise there? Pound. Why, an it please your ladyship—— Lady Town. Pr'ythee, don't plague me now, but do as you were ordered. Pound. Nay, what your ladyship pleases, ma dam. [Exit POUNDAGE. Trus. There they are, madam-[Pours the money out of the bag.] The pretty things were so near falling into a nasty tradesman's hands, I protest it made me tremble for them-I fancy your ladyship had as good give me that bad guinea, for luck's sake-Thank you, madam. [Takes a guinea. Lady Town. Why, I did not bid you take it. Trus. No, but your ladyship looked as if you were just going to bid me, and so I was willing to save you the trouble of speaking, madam. Lady Town. Well, thou hast deserved it, and so, for once--but hark! don't I hear the man making a noise yonder? though I think now we may compound for a little of his ill humour. Trus. I'll listen. Lady Town. Pr'ythee do. [TRUSTY goes to the door. Trus. Ay, they are at it, madam-he's in a bit ter passion with poor Poundage--Bless me! I believe he'll beat him-Mercy on us! how the wretch swears! Lady Town. And a sober citizen too! That's a shame! Trus. Ha! I think all's silent of a sudden— may be the porter has knocked him down—I'll step and see. [Exit TRUSTY. Lady Town. Those trades-people are the trou blesomest creatures! No words will satisfy them. [TRUSTY returns Trus. O, madam! undone! undone! My lord has just bolted out upon the man, and is hearing all his pitiful story over-if your ladyship pleases to come hither, you may hear him yourself. CIBBER.] Lady Town. No matter: It will come round presently I shall have it from my lord, without losing a word by the way, I'll warrant you. Trus. O lud! madam! here's my lord just coming in. Lady Town. Do you get out of the way then. [Exit TRUSTY.] I am afraid I want spirits, but he will soon give 'em me. Enter Lord TOWNLY. Ld Town. How comes it, madam, that a tradesman dares be clamorous in my house, for money due to him from you? Lady Town. You don't expect, my lord, that I should answer for other people's impertinence? Ld Town. I expect, madam, you should answer for your own extravagancies, that are the occasion of it--I thought I had given you money three months ago to satisfy all these sort of people. Lady Town. Yes, but you see they never are to be satisfied. Ld Town. Nor am I, madam, longer to be abu sed thus! What's become of the last five hundred I gave you? Lady Town. Gone. Ld Town. Gone! What way, madam ? Lady Town. Half the town over, I believe, by this time. Ld Tonon. 'Tis well! I see ruin will make no impression, 'till it falls upon you. Lady Town. In short, my lord, if money is always the subject of our conversation, I shall make you no answer. Ld Town. Madam, madam! I will be heard, and make you answer. Lady Town. Make me! Then I must tell you, my lord, this is a language I have not been used to, and I won't bear it. Ld Town. Come, come, madam, you shall bear a great deal more, before I part with you. Lady Town. My lord, if you insult me, you will have as much to bear on your side, I can assure you. Ld Town. Pooh! Your spirit grows ridiculous -you have neither honour, worth, or innocence, to support it! Lady Town. You'll find, at least, I have resentment; and do you look well to the provocation! Ld Town. After those you have given me, madam, 'tis almost infamous to talk with you. Lady Town. I scorn your imputation and your menaces! The narrowness of your heart's your monitor! 'Tis there! there, my lord, you are wounded. You have less to complain of than many husbands of an equal rank to you. not Ld Town. Death, madam! do you presume upon your corporal merit? that your person's less tainted than your mind? Is it there, there alone you an honest husband can be injured? Have every other vice that can debase your birth, or stain the heart of woman? Is not your health, your beauty, husband, fortune, family disclaimed, for nights consumed in riot and extravagance? The wanton does no more; if she conceals her shame, does less: And sure the dissolute avowed, as sorely wrongs my honour and my quiet. Lady Town. I see, my lord, what sort of wife might please you. Ld Town. Ungrateful woman! could you have seen yourself, you in yourself had seen her-I am amazed our legislature has left no precedent of a divorce for this more visible injury, this adultery of the mind, as well as that of the person! When a woman's whole heart is alienated to pleasures I have no share in, what is't to me whether a black ace or a powdered coxcomb has possession of it? Lady Town. If you have not found it yet, my lord, this is not the way to get possession of mine, depend upon it. Ld Town. That, madam, I have long despaired of; and since our happiness cannot be mutual, 'tis fit that with our hearts our persons too should separate-This house you sleep no more in! Though your content might grossly feed upon the dishonour of a husband, yet my desires would starve upon the features of a wife. Lady Town. Your style, my lord, is much of the same delicacy with your sentiments of honour. Ld Town. Madam, madam! this is no time for compliments-I have done with you. Lady Ton. If we had never met, my lord, I had not broke my heart for it! But have a care! I may not, perhaps, be so easily recalled as you imagine. Ld Town. Recalled!-Who's there? Enter a Servant. Desire my sister and Mr Manly to walk up. Lady Town. My lord, you may proceed as you please, but pray what indiscretions have I committed, that are not daily practised by a hundred other women of quality? Ld Town. 'Tis not the number of ill wives, madam, that makes the patience of a husband less contemptible; and though a bad one may be the best man's lot, yet he'll make a better figure in the world that keeps his misfortunes out of doors, than he that tamely keeps them within. Lady Town. I don't know what figure you may make, my lord, but I shall have no reason to be ashamed of mine, in whatever company I may meet you. Ld Town. Be sparing of your spirit, madam; you'll need it to support you. Enter Lady GRACE and MANLY. Mr Manly, I have an act of friendship to beg of you, which wants more apologies than words can make for it. may Man. Then pray make none, my lord, that I have the greater merit in obliging you. Ld Town. Sister, I have the same excuse to entreat of you too. L. Grace. To your request I beg, my lord. Ld Town. Thus then-As you both were present at my ill-considered marriage, I now desire you each will be a witness of my determined se |