Ha! and my lord Foppington with her-Now! | ment of our reconciliation; for though, in the now, we shall see this mighty proof of your sin- little outward gallantry I received from him, I cerity-Now! my lord, you'll have a warning did not immediately trust him with my design in sure, and henceforth know me for your friend, it, yet I have a better opinion of his understandindeed. ing, than to suppose he could mistake it. Enter LADY EASY, and LORD FOPPINGTON. Lady Easy. In tears, my dear! what's the matter? Lady Bet. O, my dear, all I told you is true: Sir Charles has shewn himself so inveterately my enemy, that, if I believed I deserved but half his hate, 'twould make me hate myself. Lord Fop. Hark you, Charles; prithee what is this business? Sir Cha. Why, yours, my lord, for aught I know-I have made such a breach betwixt them -I cannot promise much for the courage of a woman; but if hers holds, I am sure it is wide enough; you may enter ten abreast, my lord. Lord Fop. Say'st thou so, Charles? Then, I hold six to four, I am the first man in the town. Lady Easy. Sure there must be some mistake in this: I hope he has not made my lord your Lady Bet. No, my lord; since I perceive his little arts have not prevailed upon your good-nature to my prejudice, I am bound in gratitude, in duty to myself, and to the confession you have made, my lord, to acknowledge now, I have been to blame, too. Lord More. Ha! is it possible? can you own so much? O my transported heart! Lady Bet. He says I have taken pleasure in seeing you uneasy-I own it-but 'twas when that uneasiness I thought proceeded from your love; and if you did love'twill not be much to pardon it. Lord More. O let my soul, thus bending to your power, adore this soft descending goodness! Lady Bet. And, since the giddy woman's slights I have shewn you too often, have been public, 'tis fit, at last, the amends and reparation should be so therefore, what I offered to Sir Charles, I now repeat before this company, my utter detestation of any past, or future gallantry, that has, or shall be offered by me, to your uneasiness. Lord More. Oh! be less generous, or teach me to deserve it—Now blush, sir Charles, at your injurious accusation. Lord Fop. Ah! Pardi, Voila quelque chose d'extraordinaire ! Lady Bet. As for my lord Foppington, I owe him thanks for having been so friendly an instru Lord Fop. I am struck dumb with the deliberation of her assurance! and do not positively remember, that the nonchalance of my temper ever had so bright an occasion to shew itself before. Lady Bet. My lord, I hope you will pardon the freedom I have taken with you. Lord Fop. Oh, madam, do not be under the confusion of an apology upon my account; for, in cases of this nature, I am never disappointed, but when I find a lady of the same mind two hours together-Madam, I have lost a thousand fine women in my time; but never had the ill manners to be out of humour with any one for refusing me, since I was born. per. Lady Bet. My lord, that's a very prudent tem Lord Fop. Madam, to convince you that I am in an universal peace with mankind, since you own I have so far contributed to your happiness, give me leave to have the honour of completing it, by joining your hand, where you have already offered up your inclination. Lady Bet. My lord, that's a favour I cannot refuse you. Lord More. Generous, indeed, my lord! [LORD FOPPINGTON joins their hands. Lord Fop. And, stap my breath, if ever I was better pleased since my first entrance into human nature! Sir Cha. How now, my lord! what? throw up the cards before you have lost the game? Lord Fop. Look you, Charles, 'tis true, I did design to have played with her alone: but he that will keep well with the ladies, must sometimes be content to make one at a pool with them; and, since I know I must engage her in my turn, I don't see any great odds in letting him take the first game with her. Sir Cha. Wisely considered, my lord! Sir Cha. And now, madam, I'll save you the trouble of a long speech; and, in one word, confess that every thing I have done in regard to you this day, was purely artificial-I saw there was no way to secure you to my lord Morelove, but by alarming your pride with the danger of losing him: and, since the success must have by this time convinced you, that in love nothing is more ridiculous than an over-acted aversion, I am sure you won't take it ill, if we at last congratulate your good-nature, by heartily laughing at the fright we had put you in: ha, ha, ha! Lady Easy. Ha, ha, ha! Lady Bet. Why-Well, I declare it now, I hate you worse than ever. Sir Cha. Ha, ha, ha! And was it afraid they would take away it's love from it?Betty! Ha, ha, ha! -Poor lady Lady Easy. My dear, I beg your pardon; but it is impossible not to laugh when one is so heartily pleased. Lord Fop. Really, madam, I am afraid the humour of the company will draw me into your displeasure, too; but, if I were to expire this moment, my last breath would positively go out with a laugh. Ha, ha, ha! Lady Bet. Nay, I have deserved it all, that's the truth on't-but I hope, my lord, you were not in this design against me. Lord More. As a proof, madam, I am inclined never to deceive you more-I do confess I had my share in it. Lady Bet. You do, my lord—then I declare it was a design, one or other-the best carried on that ever I knew in my life; and (to my shame I own it) for aught I know, the only thing that could have prevailed upon my temper; 'twas a foolish pride that has cost me many a bitten lip to support it-I wish we don't both repent, my lord. Lord More. Don't you repent with me, and we never shall. Sir Cha. Well, madam, now the worst that the world can say of your past conduct, is, that my lord had constancy, and you had tried it. Enter a Servant to LORD MORELOVE. Ser. My lord, Mr Lefevre's below, and desires to know what time your lordship will please to have the music begin, Lord More. Sir Charles, what say you? will you give me leave to bring them hither? Sir Cha. As the ladies think fit, my lord. Lady Bet. Oh! by all means; 'twill be better here, unless we could have the terrace to ourselves. Lord More. Then, pray desire them to come hither immediately. Ser. Yes, my lord. [Exit Servant. Enter LADY GRAVEAIRS. Sir Cha. Lady Graveairs! Lady Grave. Yes, you may well start! But don't suppose I am now come, like a poor tame fool, to upbraid your guilt; but, if I could, to blast you with a look, Sir Cha. Come, come, you have sense-don't expose yourself you are unhappy, and I own myself the cause. The only satisfaction I can of fer you, is to protest, no new engagement takes me from you; but a sincere reflection of the long neglect, and injuries I have done the best of wives; for whose amends, and only sake, I now must part with you, and all the inconvenient pleasures of my life. VOL. II. Lady Grave. Have you then fallen into the low contempt of exposing me, and to your wife, too? Sir Cha. Twas impossible; without it, I could never be sincere in my conversion. Lady Grave. Despicable! Sir Cha. Do not think so- -for my sake I know she'll not reproach you-nor, by her carriage, ever let the world perceive you have wrongcd her. My dear Lady Easy. Lady Graveairs, I hope you will sup with us? Lady Grave, I cannot refuse so much good company, madam. Sir Cha. You see the worst of her resentment- In the mean time, don't endeavour to be her friend, and she'll never be your enemy. Lady Grave. I am unfortunate-'tis what my folly has deserved, and I submit to it. Lord More. So! here is the music. SONG. Sabina, with an angel's face, By love ordained for joy; Seems of the siren's cruel race, To charm and then destroy. With all the arts of look and dress, She fans the fatal fire; Through pride, mistaken oft for grace, She bids the swains expire. The god of love, enraged to see The nymph defy his flume, Pronounced his merciless decree Against the haughty dame. Let age with double speed o'ertake her, Let love the room of pride supply; And, when the lovers all forsake her, A spotless virgin let her die. SIR CHARLES Comes forward with LADY EASY. Sir Cha. Now, my dear, I find my happiness grow fast upon me; in all my past experience of the sex, I found, even among the better sort, so much of folly, pride, malice, passion, and irresolute desire, that I concluded thee but of the foremost rank, and, therefore, scarce worthy my concern; but thou hast stirred me with so severe a proof of thy exalted virtue, it gives me wonder equal to my love-If, then, the unkindly thought of what I have been, hereafter shall intrude upon thy growing quiet, let this reflection teach thee to be easy: Thy wrongs, when greatest, most thy virtue proved; And, from that virtue found, I blushed, and truly loved. 3 I [Exeunt omnes. me leave first to ask a question or two. What is | covered that my father was now actually under this honourable lady's name? Cle. What are her parents? Cle. What fortune has she? Cle. Where does she live? Cle. A very concise account of the person you design to marry! Pray, sir, what is it you do know of her? bonds to marry me to another woman; so, faith, I even told her my name was Freeman, a Gloucestershire gentleman, of a good estate, just come to town about a chancery suit. Besides, I was unwilling any accident should let my father know of my being yet in England, lest he should find me out, and force me to marry the woman I never saw (for which, you know, he commanded me home) before I have time to prevent it. Cle. Well, but could you not learn the lady's name all this while? Atall. No, faith, she was inexorable to all intreaties; only told me in general terms, that if what I vowed to her was sincere, she would give me a proof in a few days what hazards she would run to requite my services; so, after having told her where she might hear of me, I saw her into a chair, pressed her by the cold rosy fingers, Atall. That I'll tell you. Coming yesterday from Greenwich by water, I overtook a pair of oars, whose lovely freight was one single lady, and a fellow in a handsome livery in the stern. When I came up, I had at first resolved to use the privilege of the element, and bait her with waterman's wit, till I came to the bridge; but, as soon as she saw me, she very prudently pre-kissed them warm, and parted. vented my design; and, as I passed, bowed to me with an humble blush, that spoke at once such sense, so just a fear, and modesty, as put the loosest of my thoughts to rout. And, when she found her fears had moved me into manners, the cautious gloom, that sat upon her beauties, disappeared; her sparkling eyes resumed their native fire; she looked, she smiled, she talked, while her diffusive charms new fired my heart, and gave my soul a softness it never felt before. To be brief, her conversation was as charming as person, both easy, unconstrained, and spright ly; but, then, her limbs! O rapturous thought! The snowy down upon the wings of unfledged love had never half that softness. Cle. What, then, you are quite off with the lady, I suppose, that you made an acquaintance with in the Park last week? her Cle. Raptures, indeed! Pray, sir, how came you so well acquainted with her limbs ? Atall. No, no; not so, neither one's my Juno, all pride and beauty; but this my Venus, all life, love, and softness. Now, what I beg of thee, dear Clerimont, is this: Mrs Juno, as I told you, having done me the honour of a civil visit or two at my own lodgings, I must needs borrow thine to entertain Mrs Venus in; for, if the rival goddesses should meet and clash, you know there would be the devil to do between them. Cle. Well, sir, my lodgings are at your service-but you must be very private and sober, I can tell you; for my landlady's a Presbyterian; if she suspects your design, you're blown up, depend upon it. Cle. Faith, you must excuse me; I expect some ladies in the Park that I would not miss for an empire: but yonder's my servant, he shall conduct you. Atall. By the most fortunate misfortune sure that ever was: for, as we were shooting the Atall. Don't fear: I'll be as careful as a guilty bridge, her boat, by the negligence of the water-conscience: but, I want immediate possession: man, running against the piles, was overset; out for I expect to hear from her every moment, jumps the footman, to take care of a single rogue, and have already directed her to send thither. and down went the poor lady to the bottom. My Prithee, come with me. boat being before her, the stream drove her, by the help of her clothes, toward me; at sight of her, I plunged in, caught her in my arms, and, with much ado, supported her till my waterman pulled in to save ns. But the charming difficulty of her getting into the boat, gave me a transport that all the wide water in the Thames had not power to cool; for, sir, while I was giving her a lift into the boat, I found the floating of her clothes had left her lovely limbs beneath as bare as a new-born Venus rising from the sea. Cle. What an impudent happiness art thou capable of! Atall. When she was a little recovered from her fright, she began to enquire my name, abode, and circumstances, that she might know to whom she owed her life and preservation. Now, to tell you the truth, I durst not trust her with my real name, lest she should from thence have dis Atall. Very good! that will do as well, then. I'll send my man along with him to expect her commands, and call me if she sends: and, in the mean time, I'll e'en go home to my own lodgings; for, to tell you the truth, I expect a small message there from my goddess imperial. And I am not so much in love with my new bird in the bush, as to let t'other fly out of my hand for her. Cle. And, pray, sir, what name does your goddess imperial, as you call her, know you by? Atall. O, sir, with her I pass for a man of arms, and am called colonel Standfast; with my new face, John Freeman of Flatland-Hall, esq. -But time flies: I must leave you. Cle. Well, dear Atall, I'm yours-Good luck to you! [Erit ATALL.]What a happy fellow is this, that owes his success with the women purely to his inconstancy! Here comes another, too, almost as happy as he, a fellow that's wise enough to be but half in love, and make his whole life a studied idleness. Enter CARELESS. So, Careless! you're constant, 1 see, to your morning's saunter.Well, how stand matters? -I hear strange things of thee; that, after having railed at marriage all thy life, thou hast resolved to fall into the uoose at last. Cure. I don't see any great terror in the noose, as you call it, when a man's weary of liberty: the liberty of playing the fool, when one's turned of thirty, is not of much value. Cle. Hey-day! Then, you begin to have nothing in your head now, but settlements, children, and the main chance! Care. Even so, faith! but in hopes to come at them, too, I am forced very often to make my way through pills, elixirs, bolus's, ptisans, and gallipots. Cle. What, is your mistress an apothecary's widow? Cure. No, but she is an apothecary's shop, and keeps as many drugs in her bed-chamber; she has her physic for every hour of the day and night-for 'tis vulgar, she says, to be a moment in rude and perfect health. Her bed lined with poppies; the black boys at the feet, that the healthy employ to bear flowers in their arms, she loads with diascordium, and other sleepy potions: her sweet bags, instead of the common and offensive smells of musk and amber, breathe nothing but the more modish and salubrious scents of hartshorn, rue, and assafoetida. Cle. Why, at this rate, she's only fit to be the consort of Hippocrates. But, pray, what other charms has this extraordinary lady? Care. She has one, Tom, that a man may relish without being so deep a physician. Cle. What's that? Care. Why, two thousand pounds a year. Cle. No vulgar beauty, I confess, sir. But canst thou, for any consideration, throw thyself into this hospital, this box of physic, and lie all night like leaf-gold upon a pill? Care. O, dear, sir, this is not half the evil; her humour is as fantastic as her diet; nothing that is English must come near her; all her delight is in foreign impertinencies: her rooms are all of Japan or Persia, her dress Indian, and her equipage are all monsters: the coachman came over with his horses, both from Russia, Flanders are too common; the rest of her trim are a motley crowd of blacks, tawny, olives, feulamots, and pale blues: in short, she's for any thing that comes from beyond sea; her greatest monsters are those of her own coun | try; and she's in love with nothing o' this side the line, but the apothecaries. Cle. Apothecaries quotha! why your fine lady, for aught I see, is a perfect dose of folly and physic; in a month's time she'll grow like an antimonial cup, and a kiss will be able to work with you. Care. But to prevent that, Tom, I design, upon the wedding-day, to break all her gallipots, kick the doctor down stairs, and force her, instead of physic, to take a hearty meal of a swinging rump of boiled beef and carrots; and so 'faith I have told her. Cle. That's something familiar: are you so near man and wife? Care. O nearer; for I sometimes plague her till she hates the very sight of me. Cle. Ha, ha! very good! So, being a very troublesome lover, you pretend to cure her of her physic by a counter poison. Care. Right; I intend to fee a doctor to prescribe to her an hour of my conversation to be taken every night and morning; and this to be continued till her fever of aversion's over. Cle. An admirable recipe! Care. Well, Tom, but how stands thy own affair? Is Clarinda kind yet? Cle. Faith, I cannot say she's absolutely kind, but she's pretty near it: for she's grown so ridiculously ill-humoured to me of late, that, if she keeps the same airs a week longer, I am in hopes to find as much ease from her folly, as my constancy would from her good-nature.-But to be plain, I'm afraid I have some secret rival in the case; for women's vanity seldom gives them courage enough to use an old lover heartily ill, till they are first sure of a new one, that they intend to use better. Care. What says sir Solomon? He is your friend, I presume? Cle. Yes; at least I can make him so when I please. There is an odd five hundred pound in her fortune, that he has a great mind should stick to his fingers, when he pays in the rest on't, which I am afraid I must comply with; for she can't easily marry without his consent. - And yet she's so altered in her behaviour of late, that I scarce know what to do.-Prithee, take a turn and advise me. Care. With all my heart. [Exeunt. |