sometimes splenetic and heavy, then gay and frolicsome. And how d'ye like the humour? Dur. Good madam, let me sit down to answer you, for I am heartily tired. Bis. Fy upon't! a young man, and tired! up, for shame, and walk about, action becomes usa little faster, sir-What d'ye think now of my lady La Pal, and lady Coquet, the duke's fair daughter? Ha! Are they not brisk lasses? Then, there is black Mrs Bellair, and brown Mrs Bellface. Dur. They are all strangers to me, madam. Bis. But let me tell you, sir, that brown is not always despicable-O lard, sir, if young Mrs Bagatell had kept herself single 'till this time o' day, what a beauty there had been! And then, you know, the charming Mrs Monkeylove, the fair gem of St Germains. Dur. Upon my soul, I don't. Bis. And then you must have heard of the English beau, Spleenamore, how unlike a gentle man Dur. Hey-not a syllable on't, as I hope to be saved, madam. sir. Bis. No! Why, then, play me a jig. Come, Dur. By this light I cannot; faith, madam, I have sprained my leg. Bis. Then sit you down, sir; and now tell me what's your business with me? What's your errand? Quick, quick, dispatch-Odso, may be you are some gentleman's servant, that has brought me a letter, or a haunch of venison. Dur. 'Sdeath, madam, do I look like a carrier? Bis. O, cry you mercy! I saw you just now; I SCENE I. Enter OLD and YOUNG MIRABELL. Old Mir. Boв, come hither, Bob. mistook you, upon my word: You are one of the travelling gentlemen-and pray, sir, how do all our impudent friends in Italy? Dur. Madam, I came to wait on you with a more serious intention than your entertainment has answered. Bis. Sir, your intention of waiting on me was the greatest affront imaginable, howe'er your expressions may turn it to a compliment: Your visit, sir, was intended as a prologue to a very Scurvy play, of which Mr Mirabell and you so handsomely laid the plot.-Marry! No, no, I'm a man of more honour. Where's your honour? Where's your courage now? Ads my life, sir, I have a great mind to kick you.-Go, go to your fellow-rake now; rail at my sex, and get drunk for vexation, and write a lampoon-But I must have you to know, sir, that my reputation is above the scandal of a libel; my virtue is sufficiently ap proved to those, whose opinion is my interest: And, for the rest, let them talk what they will; for when I please I'll be what I please, in spite of you and all mankind; and so, my dear man of honour, if you be tired, con over this lesson, and sit there till I come to you. [Runs off. Dur. Tum ti dum. [Sings] Ha, ha, ha! Ads my life, I have a great mind to kick you!Oons and confusion! [Starts up] Was ever man so abused?-Ay, Mirabell set me on. Enter PETIT. Pet. Well, sir, how d'ye find yourself? Dur. You son of a nine-ey'd whore, d'ye come to abuse me? I'll kick you with a vengeance, you dog! [PETIT runs off, and DUR. after him. ACT III. Old Mir. Are not you a great rogue, sirrah? Mir. That's a little out of my comprehension, sir; for I've heard say, that I resemble my father. Old Mir. Your father is your very humble slave--I tell thee what, child, thou art a very pretty fellow, and I love thee heartily; and a very great villain, and I hate thee mortally. Mir. Villain, sir! Then, I must be a very impudent one, for I can't recollect any passage of my life, that I'm ashamed of. Old Mir. Come hither, my dear friend; dost see this picture? [Shews him a little picture. Mir. Oriana's! Pshaw! Old Mir. What, sir, won't you look upon't? Bob, dear Bob, prithee come hither now-Dost want any money, child? Mir. No, sir. Old Mir. Why, then, here's some for thee; come here, now-How can'st thou be so hardhearted, an unnatural, unmannerly rascal (don't mistake me, child, I an't angry) as to abuse this tender, lovely, good-natured dear rogue?Why, she sighs for thee, and cries for thee, pouts for thee, and snubs for thee; the poor little heart of it is like to burst-Come, my dear boy, be good-natured like your own father, be now-and then, see here, read this-the effigies of the lovely Oriana, with ten thousand pound to her portion -ten thousand pound, you dog; ten thousand pound, you rogue; how dare you refuse a lady with ten thousand pound, you impudent rascal? Mir. Will you hear me speak, sir? Old Mir. Hear you speak, sir! If you had ten thousand tongues, you could not out-talk ten thousand pound, sir. Mir. Nay, sir, if you won't hear me, I'll be gone, sir! I'll take post for Italy this moment. Old Mir. Ah! the fellow knows I won't part with him. Well, sir, what have you to say? Mir. The universal reception, sir, that marriage has had in the world, is enough to fix it for a public good, and to draw every body into the common cause; but there are some constitutions, like some instruments, so peculiarly singular, that they make tolerable music by themselves, but never do well in a concert. Old Mir. Why, this is reason, I must confess, but yet it is nonsense, too; for, though you should reason like an angel, if you argue yourself out of a good estate, you talk like a fool. Mir. But, sir, if you bribe me into bondage with the riches of Croesus, you leave me but a beggar for want of my liberty. Old Mir. Was ever such a perverse fool heard? 'Sdeath, sir, why did I give you education? was it to dispute me out of my senses? Of what colour now is the head of this cane? You'll say 'tis white, and ten to one make me believe it, too— I thought that young fellows studied to get money. Mir. No, sir, I have studied to despise it; my reading was not to make me rich, but happy, sir. Old Mir. There he has me again, now! But, sir, did not I marry to oblige you? Mir. To oblige me, sir! in what respect, pray? Old Mir. Why, to bring you into the world, sir; was not that an obligation? Mir. And, because I would have it still an obligation, I avoid marriage. Old Mir. How is that, sir? Mir. Because I would not curse the hour I was born. Old Mir. Look'e, friend, you may persuade me out of my designs, but I'll command you out of yours; and though you may convince my reason that you are in the right, yet there is an old attendant of sixty-three, called positiveness, which you, nor all the wits in Italy, shall ever be able to shake: so, sir, you're a wit, and I'm a father; you may talk, but I'll be obeyed. Old Mir. 'Tis false, sir, he don't deserve it: what have you to say against my boy, sir? Dug. I shall only repeat your own words. Old Mir. What have you to do with my words? I have swallowed my words already; I have eaten them up, and how can you come at them, sir? Dug. Very easily, sir: 'Tis but mentioning your injured ward, and you will throw them up again immediately. Old Mir. Sir, your sister was a foolish young flirt to trust any such young, deceitful, rake helly rogue, like him. Dug. Cry you mercy, old gentleman! I thought we should have the words again. Old Mir. And what then? 'Tis the way with young fellows to slight old gentlemen's words; you never mind them, when you ought.say, that Bob's an honest fellow, and who dares deny it? Old Mir. Look'e, Mr Dugard, good words go farthest. I will do your sister justice, but it must be after my own rate; nobody must abuse my son but myself. For, although Robin be a sad dog, yet he's nobody's puppy but my own. Bis. Ay, that's my sweet-natured, kind, old gentleman Wheedling him.] We will be good, then, if you'll join with us in the plot. Old Mir. Ah, you coaxing young baggage, what plot can you have to wheedle a fellow of sixty-three? Bis. A plot that sixty-three is only good for; to bring other people together, sir; a Spanish plot, less dangerous than that of eighty-eight, and you must act the Spaniard 'cause your son will Mir. This it is to have the son a finer gentle- least suspect you; and, if he should, your authoman than the father! they first give us breedingrity protects you from a quarrel, to which Oriana that they don't understand, then they turn us out is unwilling to expose her brother. of doors because we are wiser than themselves. But I'm a little aforehand with the old gentleman. [Aside.] Sir, you have been pleased to settle a thousand pound sterling a-year upon me; in return of which, I have a very great hopour for you and your family, and shall take care, that your only, and beloved son, shall do nothing to make him hate his father, or to hang himself. So, dear sir, I'm your very humble servant. [Runs off Old Mir. Here, sirrah, rogue, Bob, villain! Enter DUGARD. Dug. Ah, sir, 'tis but what he deserves. Old Mir. And what part will you act in the business, madam? Bis. Myself, sir; my friend is grown a perfect changeling: these foolish hearts of ours spoil our heads presently; the fellows no sooner turn knaves, but we turn fools: But I am still myself, and he may expect the most severe usage from me, 'cause I neither love him, nor hate him. [Exit BIS. Old Mir. Well said, Mrs Paradox! but, sir, who must open the matter to him? Dug. Petit, sir, who is our engineer-general. And here he comes. 2 Y Old Mir. What the devil must we know, sir? Bis. Come, sir, to let you see what little foundation you have for your dear sufficiency, I'll take you to pieces. Mir. And what piece will you chuse ? Bis. Your heart, to be sure; because I should get presently rid on't; your courage I would give to a hector, your wit to a lewd play-maker, your honour to an attorney, your body to the physicians, and your soul to its master. Mir. I had the oddest dream last night of the dutchess of Burgundy; methought the furbelows of her gown were. pinned up so high behind, that I could not see her head for her tail. Bis. The creature don't mind me! do you Pet. His valet-de-chambre, sir. You must think, sir, that your humorous impertinence can know, sir, that the intrigue lay folded up with divert me? No, sir, I'm above any pleasure that his master's clothes, and when he went to dust you can give, but that of seeing you miserable. the embroidered suit, the secret flew out of the And mark me, sir, my friend, my injured friend, right pocket of his coat, in a whole swarm of shall yet be doubly happy, and you shall be a husyour crambo songs, short-footed odes, and long-band as much as the rites of marriage, and the legged pindarics. breach of them, can make you. [Exeunt. Enter MIRABELL and BISARRE, passing carelessly by one another. [Here MIRABELL pulls out a Virgil, and reads to himself while she speaks.] Mir. [Reading.] At regina dolos, (quis fallere possit amantem?) Dissimulare etiam sperásti, perfide tantum [Very true.] Posse nefas. By your favour, friend Virgil, 'twas but a rascally trick of your hero to forsake poor pug so inhumanly. Bis. I don't know what to say to him. The devil-what's Virgil to us, sir? Mir. Very much, madam, the most apropos in the world-for, what should I chop upon, but the very place, where the perjured rogue of a lover and the forsaken lady are battling it tooth Bis. [Aside.] I wonder what she can see in and nail? Come, madam, spend your spirits no this fellow to like him? Mir. [Aside.] I wonder what my friend can see in this girl to admire her? Bis. [Aside.] A wild, foppish, extravagant rake-hell. Mir. [Aside.] A light, whimsical, impertinent mad-cap. Bis. Whom do you mean, sir? Mir. Whom do you mean, madam? Bis. A fellow, that has nothing left to re-establish him for a human creature, but a prudent resolution to hang himself. Mir. There is a way, madam, to force me to that resolution. Bis. I'll do it with all my heart. Mir. Then, you must marry me. Bis. Look'e, sir; don't think your ill manners to me shall excuse your ill usage of my friend; nor, by fixing a quarrel here, to divert my zeal for the absent; for, I'm resolved, nay, I come prepared, to make you a panegyric, that shall mortify your pride like any modern dedication. Mir. And I, madam, like a true modern patron, shall hardly give you thanks for your trouble. longer; we'll take an easier method: I'll be Aneas now, and you shall be Dido, and we'll rail by book. Now for you, madam Dido. Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam, Nec moritura tenet crudeli funere DidoAh, poor Dido! [Looking at her. Bis. Rudeness, affronts, impatience! I could almost start out even to manhood, and want but a weapon as long as his to fight him upon the spot. What shall I say? Mir. Now she rants. Quæ quibus anteferam? jam jam nec maxima Bis. A man! No, the woman's birth was spirited away. Mir. Right, right, madam; the very words. Bis. And some pernicious elf left in the cradle with human shape, to palliate growing mischief. [Both speak together, and raise their voices by degrees.] Mir. Perfide, sed duris genuit te cautibus hor rens Caucasus, Hyrcanaque admorunt ubera tigreş: Mir. [Excellent.] I sequere Italiam ventis, pe- | she will make him a cuckold. Tis ordinary with te regna per undas. sunt. Spero equidem mediis, si quid pia numina pos[Together again. Bis. Converse with imps of darkness of your make! your nature starts at justice, and shivers at the touch of virtue. Now, the devil take his impudence! he vexes me so, I don't know whether to cry or laugh at him. Mir. Bravely performed, my dear Libyan! I'll write the tragedy of Dido, and you shall act the part: But you do nothing at all, unless you fret yourself into a fit; for here the poor lady is stifled with vapours, drops into the arms of her maids; and the cruel, barbarous, deceitful wan derer, is, in the very next line, called pious Aneas. There's authority for ye. Sorry, indeed, Æneas stood But Jove himself, who ne'er thought good [Runs off. Bis. Go thy ways, for a dear, mad, deceitful, agreeable fellow. O' my conscience, I must excuse Oriana. That lover soon his angry fair disarms, Whose slighting pleases, and whose faults are charms. [Exit Bis. SCENE II. Enter PETIT, runs about to every door, and knocks. women, to marry one person for the sake of another, and to throw themselves into the arms of one they hate, to secure their pleasure with the man they love. But who is the happy man? Pet. A lord, sir. Mir. I'm her ladyship's most humble servant; a train and a title, hey! Room for my lady's coach; a front-row in the box for her ladyship; lights, lights for her honour! Now must I be a constant attender at my lord's levee, to work my way to my lady's couchee- -a countess, I presume, sir? Pet. A Spanish count, sir, that Mr Dugard knew abroad, is come to Paris, saw your mistress yesterday, marries her to-day, and whips her into Spain to-morrow. Mir. Ay, is it so? and must I follow my cuckold over the Pyrenees? Had she married within the precincts of a billet-doux, I would be the man to lead her to church; but, as it happens, I'll forbid the banns. Where is this mighty don? Pet. Have a care, sir! he's a rough crossgrained piece, and there's no tampering with him; would you apply to Mr Dugard, or the lady herself, something might be done, for it is in despight to you, that the business is carried so hastily. Odso, sir, here he comes! I must be gone. [Exit PET. Enter OLD MIRABELL, dressed in a Spanish habit, leading ORIANA. Ori. Good, my lord, a nobler choice had better suited your lordship's merit. My person, Pet. Mr Mirabell! Sir, where are you? no rank, and circumstance, expose me as the pubwhere to be found? Enter MIRABELL. Mir. What's the matter, Petit? lic theme of raillery, and subject me so to injurious usage, my lord, that I can lay no claim to any part of your regard, except your pity. Old Mir. Breathes he vital air, that dares pre sume, With rude behaviour, to profane such excellence? Shew me the man Pet. Most critically met-Ah, sir, that one, who has followed the game so long, and brought the poor hare just under his paws, should let a mongrel cur chop in, and run away with the puss! And you shall see how my sudden revenge Mir. If your worship can get out of your al-Shall fall upon the head of such presumption. legories, be pleased to tell me, in three words, Is this thing one? [Strutting up to MIRABELL, what you mean. Mir. Sir! Pet. Plain, plain, sir. Your mistress and mine is going to be married. Mir. I believe you lie, sir. Pet. Your humble servant, sir. [Going. Mir. Come hither, Petit. Married, say you? Pet. No, sir, 'tis no matter; I only thought to do you a service, but I shall take care how I confer my favours for the future. Mir. Sir, I beg ten thousand pardons. [Bowing low. Pet. 'Tis enough, sir-I come to tell you, sir, that Oriana is this moment to be sacrificed; married past redemption. Mir. I understand her-she'll take a husband out of spite to me; and then, out of love to me, ger. lord. Ori. Good my Ori. Pray, my lord! the gentleman's a stran Old Mir. O, your pardon, sir-but if you had remember, sir-the lady now is mine, her injuries are mine; therefore, sir, you understand me- -Come, madam. [Leads ORIANA to the door, she goes off; Mir. Ecoutez, Monsieur le compte. Mir, Boh! Old Mir. Boh? What language is that, sir? Mir. Spanish, my lord. Old Mir. What d'ye mean? Mir. This, sir. [Trips up his heels. Old Mir. A very concise quarrel, truly!-I'll bully him. Trinidade seigneur, give me fair play. Offering to rise. Mir. By all means, sir. [Takes away his sword.] Now, seigneur, where's that bombast look, and fustian face, your countship wore just now? [Strikes him. Old Mir, The rogue quarrels well, very well: my own son right! But hold, sirrah, no more jesting; I'm your father, sir, your father! Mir. My father! Then, by this light, I could find in my heart to pay thee. [Aside.] Is the fellow mad? Why, sure, sir, I han't frighted you out of your senses? Old Mir, But you have, sir. Mir. Then I'll beat them into you again. [Offers to strike him. Old Mir. Why, rogue-Bob, dear Bob, don't you know me, child? ORIANA.I wish your ladyship joy of your new dignity. Here was a contrivance indeed. Pet. The contrivance was well enough, sir, for they imposed upon us all. Mir. Well, my dear dulcinea, did your don Quixotte battle for you bravely? My father will answer for the force of my love. Ori. Pray, sir, don't insult the misfortunes of your own creating. Dug. My prudence will be counted cowardice, if I stand tamely now.— -[Comes up between MiRABELL and his sister.]-Well, sir! Mir. Well, sir! Do you take me for one of your tenants, sir, that you put on your landlord face at me? Dug. On what presumption, sir, dare you as sume thus? [Draws. Pet. Help! help! the lady faints. [ORIANA falls into her maid's arms. Mir. Ha, ha, ha! the fellow's downright dis- Mir. Vapours! vapours! she'll come to hertracted: Thou miracle of impudence! would'st self: if it be an angry fit, a dram of assafœtida thou make me believe, that such a grave gentle--if jealousy, hartshorn in water-if the moman as my father would go a masquerading thus?ther, burnt feathers-if grief, ratifia-if it be That a person of threescore and three would run strait stays, or corns, there's nothing like a dram about in a fool's coat, to disgrace himself and fa- of plain brandy. mily? Why, you impudent villain, do you think I will suffer such an affront to pass upon my honoured father, my worthy father, my dear father? 'Sdeath, sir, mention my father but once again, and I'll send your soul to thy grandfather this minute! Ori. Hold off! give me air-O my brother! would you preserve my life, endanger not your own; would you defend my reputation, leave it to itself; 'tis a dear vindication, that's purchased by the sword; for, though our champion proves victorious, yet our honour is wounded. [Offering to stab him. Old Mir. Well, well, I am not your father. Mir. Why, then, sir, you are the saucy, hec-pretty brisk again, my child. toring Spaniard, and I'll use you accordingly. Old Mir. Aye, and your lover may be wounded, that's another thing. But I think you are Old Mir. The devil take the Spaniards, sir! we have all got nothing but blows, since we began to take their part. Enter DUGARD, ORIANA, MAID, and PETIT. DUGARD runs to MIRABELL, the rest to the old gentleman. Dug. Fy, fy, Mirabell, murder your father! Mir. My father? what, is the whole family mad? Give me way, sir, I won't be held. Old Mir. No? nor I neither; let me be gone, pray. [Offering to go. Mir. My father! Old Mir. Aye, you dog's face! I am your father, for I have bore as much for thee, as your mother ever did. Mir. O ho! then this was a trick, it seems; a design, a contrivance, a stratagem-Oh! how my bones ache! Old Mir. Your bones, sirrah, why yours? Mir. Why, sir, han't I been beating my own flesh and blood all this while? Oh, madam-[To Ori. Aye, sir, my indisposition was only a pretence to divert the quarrel; the capricious taste of your sex excuses this artifice in ours. For often, when our chief perfections fail, Our chief defects with foolish men prevail. [Exit ORIANA. Pet. Come, Mr Dugard, take courage, there is a way still left to fetch him again. Old Mir. Sir, I'll have no plot, that has any relation to Spain. Dug. I scorn all artifice whatsoever; my sword shall do her justice. Pet. Pretty justice, truly! Suppose you run him through the body, you run her through the heart at the same time. Old Mir. And me through the head- -rot your sword, sir, we'll have plots; come, Petit, let's hear. Pet. What if she pretended to go into a nunnery, and so bring him about to declare himself? Dug. That, I must confess, has a face. Old Mir. A face! a face like an angel, sir.- |