hang him, I have teased him enough-Besides, | Fortune, this once assist me as before: Parly, I begin to be tired of my revenge: but, Two such machines can never work in vain, this buss and guinea I must maul once more. I'll As thy propitious wheel, and my projecting brain. handsel his women's clothes for him. Go, get me [Exeunt. pen and ink; I must write to Vizard, too. SCENE I.-Covent Garden. ACT IV. WILDAIR and STANDARD meeting. Stand. I THOUGHT, sir Harry, to have met you ere this in a more convenient place; but, since my wrongs were without ceremony, my revenge shall be so, too. Draw, sir. Wild. Draw, sir! What shall I draw? Stund. Come, come, sir, I like your facetious humour well enough; it shews courage and unconcern. I know you brave; and therefore use you thus.Draw your sword. Wild. Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but, the devil take me if I fight. Perhaps, colonel, this is the prettiest blade you have scen. Stand. I doubt not but the arm is good; and, therefore, think both worth my resentment. Come, sir. Wild. But, prithee, colonel, dost think that I am such a madman, as to send my soul to the devil, and body to the worms- -upon every fool's errand? [Aside. Stand. I hope you're no coward, sir. Wild. Coward, sir! I have eight thousand pounds a-year, sir. Stand. You fought in Flanders, to my knowledge, Wild, Ay, for the same reason that I wore a red coat; because 'twas fashionable. Stand. Sir, you fought a French count in Paris. Wild. True, sir; but there was no danger of lands nor tenements: besides, he was a beau, like myself. Now you're a soldier, colonel, and fighting's your trade; and I think it downright madness to contend with any man in his profession. Stand. Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall take very unseemly methods, if you don't shew yourself a gentleman. Wild. A gentleman! Why, there again, now. A gentleman! I tell you once more, colonel, that I am a baronet, and have eight thousand pounds a-year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand the languages-Now, I can't conceive how running you through the body should contribute one jot more to my gentility. But, pray, colonel, I had forgot to ask you, what's the quarrel? a woman, get it out of her hands as soon as you can. An honourable tover is the greatest slave in nature: some will say, the greatest fool. Come, come, colonel, that is something about the lady Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you satisfaction in that affair, Stand. Do so, then, immediately. Wild. Put up your sword first; you know I dare fight: but I had much rather make you a friend than an enemy. I can assure you, this lady will prove too hard for one of your temper. You have too much honour, too much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies. Stand. I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement. Wild. A man can never hear reason with a sword in his hand. Sheath your weapon; and then, if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body. Stand. Give me but demonstration of her granting you any favour, and it is enough. Wild. Will you take my word? Stand. Pardon me, sir-I cannot. Wild. Will you believe your own eyes? Stand. 'Tis ten to one whether I shall or no; they have deceived me already. Wild. That's hard-but some means I shall devise for your satisfaction-we must fly this place, else that cluster of mob will overwhelm us. [Exeunt. Enter mob; TOM ERRAND's wife hurrying in CLINCHER, sen. in ERRAND's clothes. Wife. Oh! the villain, the rogue, he has murdered my husband. Ah, my poor Timothy! [Crying. Clin, sen. Dem your Timothy! your husband has murdered me, woman; for he has carried away my fine jubilee clothes. Wife. Aye, you cut-throat, have you not got his clothes upon your back there? Neighbours, don't you know poor Timothy's coat and apron? Mob. Aye, aye, it is the same. 1st Mob. What shall we do with him, neighbours? 2d Mob. We'll pull him in pieces. 1st Mob. No, no, then we may be hanged for murder; but we'll drown him. Clin. sen. Ah, good people, pray don't drown me; for I never learned to swim in all my life, Ah, this plaguy intriguing! Mob. Away with him! away with him to the Thames! FARQUHAR.] Clin. sen. Oh! if I had but my swimming gir- | again, you're out. They're all alike, sir: I never dle now! Enter Constable. Con. Hold, neighbours; I command the peace. Wife. Oh, Mr Constable, here's a rogue that has murdered my husband, and robbed him of his clothes. Con. Murder and robbery! then he must be a gentleman. Hands off, there; he must not be abused. Give an account of yourself. Are you a gentleman ? Clin. sen. No, sir, I'm a beau. Con. A beau! Then you have killed nobody, I'm persuaded. How caine you by these clothes, sir? Clin. sen. You must know, sir, that walking along, sir, I don't know how, sir, I cannot tell where, sir, and so the porter and I changed | clothes, sir. Con. Very well. The man speaks reason, and like a gentleman. Wife. But pray, Mr Constable, ask him how he changed clothes with him? Con. Silence, woman, and don't disturb the court. Well, sir, how did you change clothes ? Clin. sen. Why, sir, he pulled off my coat, and I drew off his : so I put on his coat, and he put on mine. Con. Why, neighbour, I don't find that he's guilty : search him; and, if he carries no arms about him, we'll let him go. [They search his pockets, and pull out his pistols.] Clin. sen. Oh, gemini! my jubilee pistols ! Con. What, a case of pistols ! then the case is plain. Speak, what are you, sir? whence came you, and whither go you? Clin. sen. Sir, I came from Russel-street, and am going to the jubilee. Wife. You shall go to the gallows, you rogue. Con. Away with him! away with him to Newgate, straight! Clin. sen. I shall go to the jubilee, now, indeed. [Ereunt. | | | Re-enter WILDAIR and STANDARD. Wild. In short, colonel, 'tis all nonsense : fight for a woman! hard by is the lady's house; if you please we'll wait on her together: you shall draw my snuff-box: your sword; I'll draw : you shall produce your wounds received in war; I'll relate mine by Cupid's dart: you shall look big; I'll ogle: you shall swear; I'll sigh: you shall sa, sa, and I'll coupée; and if she flies not to my arms like a hawk to its perch, my dancing-mas- | ter deserves to be damned. Stand. With the generality of women, I grant you, these arts may prevail. Wild. Generality of women! Why, there heard of any one, that was particular, but one. Wild. Penelope, I think she's called, and that's a poetical story, too. When will you find a poet, in our age, make a woman so chaste ? Stand. Well, sir Harry, your facetious humour can disguise falsehood, and make calumny pass for satire; but you have promised me ocular demonstration that she favours you: make that good, and I shall then maintain faith and female to be as inconsistent as truth and falsehood. Wild. Nay, by what you told me, I am satisfied that she imposes on us all : and Vizard, too, seems what I still suspected him: but his honesty once mistrusted, spoils his knavery. But will you be convinced, if our plot succeeds ? Stand. I rely on your word and honour, sir Harry; which, if I doubted, my distrust would cancel the obligation of their security. Wild. Then meet me half an hour hence, at the Rummer; you must oblige me by taking a hearty glass with me, toward the fitting me out for a certain project, which this night I undertake. Stand. I guess, by the preparation, that woman's the design. Wild. Yes, faith! I am taken dangerous ill with two foolish maladies, modesty and love: the first I'll cure with Burgundy, and my love by a night's lodging with the damsel. A sure remedy. Probatum est. Enter CLINCHER junior and DICKY. Clin. Ah, Dicky, this London is a sad place, a sad, vicious place : I wish that I were in the country again. And this brother of mine-I'm sorry he's so great a rake : I had rather see him dead, than see him thus. Dick. Aye, sir, he'll spend his whole estate at this same jubilee. Who d'ye think lives at this same jubilee? Clin. Who, pray? Dick. The Pope. Clin. The devil he does! my brother go to the place where the Pope dwells! he's bewitched, sure! Enter TOM ERRAND in CLINCHER senior's clothes. Dick. Indeed, I believe he is, for he's strangely altered. Clin. Altered! why, he looks like a Jesuit al ready. Err. This lace will sell. What a blockhead was the fellow to trust me with his coat! If I can get cross the garden, down to the water-side, I am pretty secure. [ Aside. Clin. Brother! Alaw! Oh, gemini! Are you my brother? Dick. No, no; the rogue has murdered your brother, and stripped him of his clothes. Clin. Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, my poor jubilee brother! Stay-by Jupiter Ammon, I'm heir, though. Speak, sir, have you killed him? Confess that you have killed him, and I'll give you half a crown. Err. Who, I, sir? Alack-a-day, sir! I never killed any man but a carrier's horse once. Clin. Then you shall certainly be hanged; but confess that you killed him, and we'll let you go. Err. Telling the truth hangs a man, but confessing a lie can do no harm: besides, if the worst come to the worst, I can but deny it again. Well, sir, since I must tell you, I did kill him. Clin. Here's your money, sir. But are you sure you killed him dead? Err. Sir, I'll swear it before any judge in England. Dick. But are you sure that he's dead in law? Err. Dead in law! I cannot tell whether he be dead in law. But he's as dead as a door-nail; for I gave him seven knocks on the head with a hammer. Dick. Then you have the estate by statute. Any man that's knocked o' the head is dead in law. Clin. But are you sure he was compos mentis when he was killed? Err. I suppose he was, sir; for he told me nothing to the contrary afterwards. Clin. Hey! Then I go the Jubilee. Strip, sir, strip! By Jupiter Ammon, strip! Dick. Ah! don't swear, sir. [Puts on his brother's clothes. Clin. Swear, sir! Zoons, ha'n't I got the estate, sir? Come, sir, now I'm in mourning for my brother. Err. I hope you'll let me go now, sir. Clin. Yes, yes, sir, but you must do me the favour to swear positively before a magistrate, that you killed him dead, that I may enter upon the estate without any trouble. By Jupiter Ammon! all my religion's gone since I put on these fine clothes-Hey, call me a coach! somebody. Err. Ay, master, let me go, and I'll call one immediately. Clin. No, no; Dicky, carry this spark before a justice, and, when he has made oath, you may discharge him. And I'll go see Angelica. [Exeunt DICK and ERRAND.] Now that I'm an elder brother, I'll court, and swear, and rant, and rake, and go to the Jubilee with the best of them. [Exit. SCENE II.-LUREWELL'S house. Enter LUREWELL and PARLY. Lure. Are you sure that Vizard had my letter? Par. Yes, yes, madam; one of your ladyship's footmen gave it to him in the park, and he told the bearer, with all transports of joy, that he would be punctual to a minute. Lure. Thus, most villains, some time or other, are punctual to their ruin; and hypocrisy, by imposing on the world, at last deceives itself. Are all things prepared for his reception ? Par. Exactly to your ladyship's order: the alderman, too, is just come, dressed and cooked up for iniquity. Lure. Then he has got woman's clothes on? Par. Yes, madam, and has passed upon the family for your nurse. Lure. Convey him into that closet, and put out the candles, and tell him, I'll wait on him presently. [AS PARLY goes to put out the candles, somebody knocks.] Music plays without. natures, and, when rightly joined, they make up the chorus of earthly happiness. Lure. But, sir Harry, what tempest drives you here at this hour? Wild. No tempest, madam, but as fair weather as ever enticed a citizen's wife to cuckold her husband in fresh air. Love, madam. [WILDAIR taking her by the hand. Lure. As pure and white as angels' soft desires. Wild. Fierce, as when ripe consenting beauty fires. Is't not so? Lure. Oh, villain! What privilege have men to our destruction, that thus they hunt our ruin? [Aside.] If this be a love-token, [WILDAIR drops a ring, she takes it up.] your mistress's favours hang very loose about you, sir. Wild. I can't, justly, madam, pay your trouble of taking it up, by any thing but desiring you to wear it. Lure. You gentlemen have the cunningest ways of playing the fool, and are so industrious in your profuseness. Speak seriously; am I beholden to chance, or design, for this ring? Wild. To design, upon my honour. And I hope my design will succeed. [Aside. Lure. And what shall I give you for such a fine thing? Wild. You'll give me another; you'll give me another fine thing. [Both sing. Lure. Shall be free with you, sir Harry? Wild. With all my heart, madam, so I may be free with you. Lure. Then, plainly, sir, I shall beg the favour to see you some other time: for, at this very minute, I have two lovers in the house. Wild. Then to be plain, I must be gone this minute, for I must see another mistress within these two hours. Lure. Frank and free ! Wild. As you with me-Madam, your most [Exit. Lure. Nothing can disturb his humour. "Now for my merchant and Vizard. humble servant. [Exit, and takes the candles with her. Enter PARLY, leading in SMUGGLER, dressed in women's clothes. Par. This way, Mr Alderman. Smug. Well, Mrs Parly-I'm obliged to you for this trouble here are a couple of shillings for you. Times are hard, very hard indeed!but next time I'll steal a pair of silk stockings from my wife, and bring them to you-What are you fumbling about my pockets for? Par. Only setting the plaits of your gown :— here, sir, get into this closet, and my lady will wait on you presently. [Puts him into the closet, runs out, and returns with VIZARD. Viz. Where wouldst thou lead me, my dear auspicious little pilot? Par. You're almost in port, sir; my lady's in the closet, and will come out to you immediately. Viz. Let me thank thee as I ought. [Kisses her. Par. Pshaw! who has hired me best? a couple of shillings, or a couple of kisses? Vis. Propitious darkness guides the lover's steps, and night, that shadows outward sense, lights up our inward joy. Night! the great awful ruler of mankind, which, like the Persian monarch, hides its royalty to raise the veneration of the world. Under thy easy reign dissemblers may speak truth: all slavish forms and ceremonies laid aside, and generous villainy may act without constraint. Smug. [Peeping out of the closet.] Bless me! what voice is this? Viz. Our hungry appetites, like the wild beasts of prey, now scour about to gorge their craving maws; the pleasure of hypocrisy, like a chained lion, once broke loose, wildly indulges its new freedom, ranging through all unbounded joys. Smug. My nephew's voice, and certainly pos sessed with an evil spirit; he talks as profanely as an actor possessed with a poet. Viz. Ha!' I hear a voice. Madam-my life, my happiness! where are you, madam ? Smug. Madam! He takes me for a woman too: I'll try him. Where have you left your sanctity, Mr Vizard? Viz. Talk no more of that ungrateful subject -I left it where it has only business, with daylight; 'tis needless to wear a mask in the dark. Smug. Oh, the rogue, the rogue !—The world takes you for a very sober, virtuous gentleman. Viz. Ay, madam, that adds security to all my pleasure. With me a cully 'squire may squander his estate, and ne'er be thought a spendthrift— With me a holy elder may zealously be drunk, and toast his tuneful nose in sack, to make it hold forth clearer- -But what is most my praise, the formal rigid she, that rails at vice and men, with me secures her loosest pleasures, and her strictest honour-She who, with scornful mien, and virtuous pride, disdains the name of whore, with me can wanton, and laugh at the deluded world. Smug. How have I been deceived! Then you are very great among the ladies? Viz. Yes, madam, they know that, like a mole in the earth, I dig deep, but invisible; not like those fluttering noisy sinners, whose pleasure is the proclamation of their faults; those empty flashes, who no sooner kindle, but they must blaze to alarm the world. But come, madam, you delay our pleasures. Smug. He surely takes me for the lady Lurewell-she has made him an appointment -but I'll be revenged of both.Well, sir, what are those you are so intimate with? too Viz. Come, come, madam, you know very well those who stand so high, that the [Stands close. vulgar envy even their crimes, whose figure mischief—I wish that I were safe within adds privilege to their sin, and makes it pass the city liberties- -I'll hide myself. unquestioned: fair, high, pampered females, whose speaking eyes, and piercing voice, would arm the statue of a stoic, and animate his cold marble with the soul of an epicure; all ravishing, lovely, soft and kind, like you. Smug. I'm very lovely and soft indeed! You shall find me much harder than you imagine, friend.- -Well, sir, but I suppose your dissimulation has some other motive besides pleasure? Viz. Yes, madam, the honestest motive in the world-interest-You must know, madam, that I have an old uncle, Alderman Smuggler; you have seen him, I suppose? Smug. Yes, yes, I have some small acquaintance with him. Viz. 'Tis the most knavish, precise, covetous old rogue, that ever died of the gout. Smug. Ah, the young son of a whore! Well, sir, and what of him? Viz. Hell hungers not more for wretched souls, than he for ill-got pelf: and yet (what's wonderful), he that would stick at no profitable villany himself, loves holiness in another. He prays all Sunday for the sins of the week past; he spends all dinner-time in two tedious graces; and what he designs a blessing to the meat, proves a curse to his family; he's the mostSmug. Well, well, sir, I know him very well. Viz. Then, madam, he has a swinging estate, which I design to purchase as a saint, and spend like a gentleman. He got it by cheating, and should lose it by deceit. By the pretence of my zeal and sobriety, I'll cozen the old miser, one of these days, out of a settlement and deed of conveyance Smug. It shall be a deed to convey you to the gallows, then, ye young dog. [Aside. Viz. And no sooner he's dead, but I'll rattle over his grave with a coach and six, to inform his covetous ghost how genteelly I spend his money. Smug. I'll prevent you, boy; for I'll have my money buried with me. [Aside. Viz. Bless me, madam! here's a light coming this way. I must fly immediately.When shall I see you, madam? Smug. Sooner than you expect, my dear. Viz. Pardon me, dear madam, I would not be seen for the world. I would sooner forfeit my life, my pleasure, than my reputation. [Exit. Smug. Reputation, reputation! That poor word suffers a great deal-Well, thou art the most accomplished hypocrite that ever made a grave plodding face over a dish of coffee and a pipe of tobacco. He owes me for seven years maintenance, and shall pay me by seven years imprisonment; when I die, I'll leave him the fee-simple of a rope and a shilling-Who are these? I begin to be afraid of some Enter BUTLER, with other Servants and lights. But. I say there are two spoons wanting, and I'll search the whole house. Two spoons will be no small gap in my quarter's wages. Serv. When did you miss them, James? But. Miss them! why, I miss them nowIn short, they must be among you; and if you don't return them, I'll go to the cunning man tomorrow morning- -My spoons I want, and my spoons I will have. Serv. Come, come, search about. [Search, and discover SMUGGLER. But. Hark'e, good woman, what makes you hide yourself? What are you ashamed of? Smug. Ashamed of! Oh, lord, sir, I'm an honest old woman, that never was ashamed of any thing. But. What, are you a midwife, then? Speak, did not you see a couple of stray spoons in your travels? Smug. Stray spoons! But. Ay, ay, stray spoons. In short, you stole them; and I'll shake your old limbs to pieces, if you don't deliver them presently. Smug. Bless me! a reverend elder of seventy years old accused for petty larceny!Why, search me, good people, search me; and if you find any spoons about me, you shall burn me for a witch. But. Ay, we will search you, mistress. [They search, and pull the spoons out of his pocket. Smug. Oh, the devil, the devil! But. Where, where is he! Lord bless us ! she is a witch in good earnest, may be. Smug. Oh, it was some devil, some CoventGarden, or St. James's devil, that put them in my pocket. But. Ay, ay, you shall be hanged for a thief, burned for a witch, and then carted for a bawd. Speak, what are you? Enter LUREWELL. Smug. I'm the lady Lurewell's nurse. But. Here is an old succubus, madam, that has stole two silver spoons, and says she is your nurse. Lure. My nurse! Oh, the impudent old jade! I never saw the withered creature before. Smug. Then I'm finely caught-Oh, madam, madam, don't you know me? Don't you remenber buss and guinea? Lure. Was ever such impudence! I know thee !-Why, thou'rt as brazen as a bawd in the side-box. Take her before a justice, and then to Newgate; away! |