Val. She does me the favour-I mean, of a visit sometimes. I did not think she had granted more to any body. demned, like other bad painters, to write the name at the bottom. Tatt. Well, first, then Enter Mrs FRAIL. Scand. 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, Valen-O' unfortunate! she's come already. Will you tine ! Tatt. Nay, what do you mean, gentlemen? Tutt. O barbarous ! Why, did you not tell me? Tatt. And bid me ask Valentine? Val. What did I say? I hope you won't bring me to confess an answer, when you never asked me the question? Tatt. 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 reputations 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. Tatt. I'll be gone. Val. You'll meet her. Tatt. Is there not a back way? [Exit JEREMY. 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. have patience till another time? I'll double the number. Scand. Well, on that conditiouyou don't fail me. -take heed Mrs Frail. I shall get a fine reputation, by coming to see fellows in a morning! Scandal, you devil, are you here, too? Oh, Mr Tattle, every thing is safe with you, we know. Scand. Tattle! Tatt. Mum- -O madam, you do me too much honour. Val. Well, lady Galloper, how does Angelica? Mrs Frail. Angelica? Manners! Val. What, you will allow an absent loverMrs Frail. 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 man ners. Val. But what if he has more passion than manners? Mrs Frail. 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. And Mrs Frail. 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-breedTatt. Scandal, you will not be so ungenerous? ing, for it begets his civility to other people.O, I shall lose my reputation of secrecy for ever. Well, I'll tell you news; but, I suppose, you I shall never be received but upon public days; heard your brother Benjamin is landed. and my visits will never be admitted beyond a my brother Foresight's daughter is come out of drawing-room: I shall never see a bed-chamber the country-I assure you, there's a match talkagain; never be locked in a closet, nor run behind ed of by the old people. Well, if he be but as a screen, or under a table; never be distinguish-great a sea-beast, as she is a land-monster, we ed 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. Tatt. Any, any terms. Scand. 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. Tatt. 'Tis very hard. Won't a baronet's lady pass? Scand. No, nothing under a right honourable. Tatt. O inhuman! You don't expect their names? 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 Frail. 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. Scand. Aye, we'll all give you something. Val. Mine's a secret. Mrs Frail. 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 Frail. That's more than he has for himself. And what will you give me, Mr Tattle? Tatt. I my soul, madam. Mrs Frail. Pool! no, I thank you, I have enough to do to take care of my own. Well; but I'll come and sce you one of these mornings: I hear you have a great many pictures. Tatt. I have a pretty good collection, at your service; some originals. Scand. 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 Frail. Ay, but I hear he has a closet of beauties. Scand. Yes, all that have done him favours, if you will believe him. Mrs Frail. So! Scand. Then I have a lady burning brandy, in a cellar, with a hackney coachman. Mrs Frail. O devil! Well, but that story is not true. Scand. I have some hieroglyphics, too. I have a lawyer, with a hundred hands, two heads, and but one face; a divine, with two faces, and one head. And I have a soldier, with his brains in his belly, and his heart where his head should be. Mrs Frail. And no head? Scand. No head. Mrs Frail. Pooh, this is all invention. Have you never a poet? Scand. 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 shall see. Mrs Frail. Ay, let me see those, Mr Tattle. Tatt. Oh, madam, those are sacred to love and contemplation. No man but the painter and my-prove self was ever blest with the sight. Mrs Frail. Well, but a woman— Tatt. Nor woman, till she consented to have her picture there, too--for then she is obliged to keep the secret. Scand. No, no! come to me, if you'd see pic tures. Mrs Frail. You? Scand. Yes, faith, I can shew you your own picture, and most of your acquaintance, to the life, and as like as Kneller's. Mrs Frail. O lying creature!--Valentine, does not he lie ?—I can't believe a word he says. Val. No, indeed, he speaks truth now: for, as Tattle has pictures of all that have granted him favours, he has the pictures of all that have refused him-if satires, descriptions, characters, and lampoons, are pictures. Scand. Yes, mine are most in black and white and yet there are some set out in their true colours, both men and women. I can shew you pride, folly, affectation, wantonness, inconstancy, covetousness, dissimulation, malice, and ignorance, all in one piece. Then I can shew you lying, foppery, vanity, cowardice, bragging, 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 Frail. Come, let's hear them. Scand. Why, I have a beau in bagnio, cupping for a complexion, and sweating for a shape. Mrs Frail. Well, I'll come, if it be but to disyou. 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 Frail. No, I'll be gone. Come, who squires me to the Exchange? I must call on my sister Foresight there. Scand. I will: I have a mind to your sister. Mrs Frail. Civil! Tatt. I will; because I have a tender for your ladyship. Mrs Frail. That's somewhat the better reason, to my opinion Scand Well, if Tattle entertains you, I have the better opportunity to engage your sister. Val. Tell Angelica, I am about making hard conditions, to come abroad, and be at liberty to see her. Scand. I'll give an account of you and your proceedings. If indiscretion be a sign of love, you are the most a lover of any body that I know. You fancy that parting with your estate will help you to your mistress--In my mind, he is a thoughtless adventurer Who hopes to purchase wealth by selling land, Or win a mistress with a losing hand. [Exeunt. ACT II. Nurse, where's your young mistress? Nurse. Wee'st heart! I know not; they're none of them come home 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? Fore. 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. Fore. 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 co-❘ ming 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 tine. 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. [Exit Servant. Enter ANGELICA. Ang. Is it not a good hour for pleasure, too, uncle? Pray, lend me your coach; mine's out of order. mily. 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. Fore. 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 ! Fore. 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 tinder boxes, 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. Fore. 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 indite you for a wizard. Fore. 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. Nurse. Marry, Heaven defend !--I at midnight practices ---O Lord, what's here to do?-Fore. What! would you be gadding, too? Sure I in unlawful doings with my master's worship! all females are mad to-day! It is of evil por- Why, did you ever hear the like now ?--Sir, did tent, and bodes mischief to the master of a fa-ever I do any thing of your midnight concerns→ Vol. II. 20 but warm your bed, and tuck you up, and set the candle and your tobacco-box, 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 nutmeggrater, which she had forgot in the caudle-cup.--Nay, I know something worse, if I would speak of it! Fore. 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. Fore. 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. 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. [Exit NURSE. Fore. 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 Sam. Nor no more to be done, old boy; that is plain--here it is, I have it in my hand, old Ptolemy; 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! Ang. Do, uncle, lock them up quickly, before Fore. Odso, let me see; let me see the paper. my aunt comes home--you'll have a letter for ali- Ay, faith and troth, here it is, if it will but hold mony to-morrow morning !---But let me be gone--I wish things were done, and the conveyance first; and then let no mankind come near the made. When was this sigued? what hour? Odso, house but converse with spirits and the celestial you should have consulted me for the time. Well, signs, the bull, and the ram, and the goat. Bless but we'll make haste. me, there are a great many horned beasts among the twelve signs, uncle! But cuckolds go to Heaven! Fore. 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. Fore. 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. Ang. Ha, ha, ha! Fore. 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. Ser. Sir Sampson is coming down, to wait upon you, sir. [Exit Servant. Ang. Good by'e, uncle. Call me a chair. I'll find out my aunt, and tell her she must not come home. [Exit ANGELICA. Fore. I am so perplexed and vexed, I am not Sir Sam. 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; prithee, brother Foresight, leave superstition. Pox o' the 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. Fore. How, how, sir Sampon? that all! Give me leave to contradict you, and tell you, you are ignorant. Sir Sam. I tell you, I am wise and sapiens dominabitur astris; there's Latin for you to prove it, and an argument to confound your ephemeris. Ignorant !—I tell you, I have travelled, old Fercu; and know the globe. I have seen the antipodes, where the sun rises at mid-night, and sets at noonday. Fore. But I tell you, I have travelled, and travelled in the celestial spheres; know the signs and the planets, and their houses; can judge of motions direct and retrograde, of sextiles, quadrates, tripes and oppositions, fiery trigons, and aquatical trigons; know whether life shall be long or short, happy or unhappy; whether diseases are curable or incurable; if journies shall be prosperous, undertakings successful, or goods stolen recovered: I know-- Sir Sam. I know the length of the emperor of China's foot; have kissed the Great Mogul's slipper; and rid a hunting upon an elephant with the cham of Tartary. Body o' me, I have made a cuckold of a king; and the present majesty of Bantam is the issue of these loins. Fore. I know when travellers lie or speak truth, when they don't know it themselves. Sir Sam. I have known an astrologer made a cuckold in the twinkling of a star; and seen a conjuror, that could not keep the devil out of his wife's circle. Fore. What, does he twit me with my wife, too? I must be better informed of this. [Aside.] Do you mean my wife, sir Sampson? Though you made a cuckold of the king of Bantam, yet, by the body of the sun- Sir Sam. By the horns of the moon, you would say, brother Capricorn. Fore. Capricorn in your teeth, thou modern Mandeville! Ferdinand Mendez Pinto was but a type of thee, thou liar of the first magnitude! Take back your paper of inheritance; send your son to sea again. I'll wed my daughter to an Egyptian mummy, ere she shall incorporate with a contemner of sciences, and a defamer of virtue. Sir Sam. Body o' me, I have gone too far-I must not provoke honest Albumazar.-An Egyptian mummy is an illustrious creature, my trusty hieroglyphic; and may have significations of futurity about him. Odsbud, I would my son were an Egyptian mummy for thy sake. What, thou art not angry for a jest, my good Haly?-I reverence the sun, moon, and stars, with all my heart. What! I'll make thee a present of a mummy. Now, I think on't, body o' me, I have a shoulder of an Egyptian king, that I purloined from one of the pyramids, powdered with hieroglyphics; thou shalt have it brought home to thy house, and make an entertainment for all the Philomaths, and students in physic and astrology, in and about London. Fore. But what do you know of my wife, sir Sampson? Sir Sam. Thy wife is a constellation of virtues; she is the moon, and thou art the man in the moon; nay, she is more illustrious than the moon; for she has her chastity, without her incontinency: 'sbud, I was but in jest. Enter JEREMY. Sir Sam. How now? who sent for you, ha? what would you have? Fore. Nay, if you were but in jest!-Who's that fellow? I don't like his physiognomy. Sir Sam. [To JEREMY.] My son, sir? what son, sir? my son Benjamin, ha! Jer. No, sir; Mr Valentine, my master;-it is the first time he has been abroad, since his confinement, and he comes to pay his duty to you. Sir Sam. Well, sir. Enter VALENTINE. Jer. He is here, sir. Sir Sam. You've had it already, sir; I think I sent it you to-day in a bill of four thousand pounds. A great deal of money, brother Foresight! Fore. Ay, indeed, sir Sampson, a great deal of money for a young man; I wonder what he can do with it! Sir Sam. Body o' me, so do I. Hark ye, Valentine, if there be too much, refund the superfluity; dost hear, boy? Val. Superfluity, sir! it will scarce pay my debts. I hope you will have more indulgence, than to oblige me to those hard conditions, which my necessity signed to. Sir Sum. Sir! how! I beseech you, what were you pleased to intimate, concerning indulgence? Val. Why, sir, that you would not go to the extremity of the conditions, but release me at least from some part. Sir Sam. O, sir, I understand you—that's all, ha? Val. Yes, sir, all that I presume to ask-But what you, out of fatherly fondness, will be pleased to add, will be doubly welcome. Sir Sam. No doubt of it, sweet sir; but your filial piety and my fatherly fondness would fit like two tallies-Here's a rogue, brother Foresight, makes a bargain under hand and seal in the morning, and would be released from it in the afternoon: here's a rogue, dog; here's conscience and honesty! This is your wit now, this is the morality of your wit! You are a wit, and have been a beau, and may be a-Why, sirrah, is it not here under hand and seal?deny it? Val. Sir, I don't deny it. Can you Sir Sam. Sirrah, you'll be hanged; I shall live to see you go up Holborn-hill---Has he not a rogue's face?- Speak, brother; you understand physiognomy; a hanging look to me-of all my boys the most unlike me. He has a damned Tyburn face, without the benefit of the clergy. Fore. Hum!-truly, I don't care to discourage a young man he has a violent death in his face; but I hope no danger of hanging. Val, Sir, is this usage for your son ?---For that old weather-headed fool, I know how to laugh at him; but you, sir Sir Sam. You, sir! and you, sir!--Why, who are you, sir? Val. Your son, sir. |