gry before in my life, and I'll never be appeased | what would you have to answer for, if you should again. Mel. Hell and damnation! this is my aunt; such malice can be engendered no where else. [Aside. Lady Ply. Sir Paul, take Cynthia from his sight; leave me to strike him with the remorse of his intended crime. Cyn. Pray, sir, stay! hear him; I dare affirm he's innocent. Sir Paul. Innocent! Why, hark'ee, come hither, Thy; hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my sister Touchwood-Gads-bud, he does not care a farthing for any thing of thee, but thy portion; why, he's in love with my wife; he would have tantalized thee, and made a cuckold of thy poor father; and that would certainly have broke my heart-I am sure, if ever I should have horns, they would kill me; they would never come kindly; I should die of them, like a child that was cutting his teeth-I should, indeed, Thy— therefore, come away; but Providence has prevented all; therefore, come away when I bid you. Cyn. I must obey. provoke me to frailty? Alas! humanity is feeble, Heaven knows! very feeble, and unable to support itself. Mel. Where am I? Is it day? and am I awake? Madam Lady Ply. And nobody knows how circumstances may happen together;-to my thinking, now, I could resist the strongest temptationbut, yet, I know, 'tis impossible for me to know whether I could or not; there's no certainty in the things of this life. Mel. Madam, pray give me leave to ask you one question. Lady Ply. O lord, ask me the question! I'll swear I'll refuse it; I'll swear I'll deny it, therefore don't ask me; nay, you shan't ask me; I swear I'll deny it. O gemini, you have brought all the blood into my face; I warrant I am as red as a turky-cock; O fye! cousin Mellefont. Mel. Nay, madam, hear me; I meanLady Ply. Hear you? no, no; I'll deny you first, and hear you afterwards. For one does not know how one's mind may change upon hearing, [Exeunt SIR PAUL and CYNTHIA.-Hearing is one of the senses, and all the senses Lady Ply. Oh, such a thing! the impiety of are fallible; I won't trust my honour, I assure it startles me to wrong so good, so fair a crea- you; my honour is infallible and uncomatible. ture, and one that loves you tenderly 'Tis a Mel. For Heaven's sake, madam— barbarity of barbarities, and nothing could be Lady Ply. O name it no more— -Bless me, how guilty of it can you talk of Heaven, and have so much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't think it a sin!-they say, some of you gentlemen don't think it a sin!-may be it is no sin to them that don't think it so; indeed, if I did not think it a sin! but still my honour, if it were no sin !—but then to marry my daughter for the conveniency of frequent opportunities-I'll never consent to that; as sure as can be I'll break the match. Mel. But the greatest villain imagination can form, I grant it; and next to the villainy of such a fact, is the villainy of aspersing me with the guilt. How? Which way was I to wrong her? For yet I understand you not. Lady Ply. Why, gads my life, cousin Mellefont, you cannot be so peremptory as to deny it, when I tax you with it to your face; for, now sir Paul is gone, you are corum nobus. or Mel. By Heaven, I love her more than life, Lady Ply. Fiddle, faddle, don't tell me of this and that, and every thing in the world, but give me mathemacular demonstration-answer me directly-But I have not patience-Oh! the impiety of it, as I was saying, and the unparalleled wickedness! O merciful father! How could you think to reverse nature so, to make the daughter the means of procuring the mother? Mel. The daughter to procure the mother! Lady Ply. Ay, for though I am not Cynthia's own mother, I am her father's wife, and that's near enough to make it incest. Mel. Incest! O! my precious aunt, and the devil in conjunction! [Aside. Lady Ply. O reflect upon the horror of that, and then the guilt of deceiving every body; marrying the daughter, only to make a cuckold of the father; and then seducing me, debauching my purity, and perverting me from the road of virtue, in which I have trod thus long, and never made one trip, not one faur pas; O consider it! Mel. Death and amazement !-Madam, upon my knees Ludy Ply. Nay, nay, rise up; come, you shall see my good-nature. I know love is powerful, and nobody can help his passion: 'tis not your fault, nor, I swear, it is not mine!--How can I help it, if I have charms? And how can you help it, if you are made a captive? I swear it is pity it should be a fault-but my honour--well, but your honour too-but the sin!-well, but the necessity-O lord, here's somebody coming, I dare not stay. Well, you must consider of your crime, and strive as much as can be against itstrive, be sure-but don't be melancholic, don't despair-but never think that I'll grant you any think; O lord, no;-but be sure you lay aside all thoughts of the marriage; for though I know you don't love Cynthia, only as a blind for your passion to me, yet it will make me jealous O Lord, what did I say? Jealous! no, no, I can't be jealous, for I must not love you therefore, don't hope—but don't despair neither-O, they're coming, I must fly. [Exit. Mel. [after a pause.] So then-spite of my care and foresight, I am caught, caught in my security. Yet this was but a shallow artifice, unworthy of my Machiavelian aunt. There must be more behind; this is but the first flash, the priming of her engine; destruction follows hard, if not most presently prevented. Enter MASKWELL. Maskwell, welcome! Thy presence is a view of land, appearing to my shipwrecked hopes; the witch has raised the storm, and her ministers have done their work; you see the vessels are parted. Mask. I know it; I met sir Paul towing away Cynthia. Come, trouble not your head; I'll join you together to-morrow morning, or drown between you in the attempt. Mel. There is comfort in a hand stretched out to one that is sinking, though never so far off. Mask. No sinking, nor no danger-Come, cheer up; why, you do not know, that while Í plead for you, your aunt has given me a retaining fee;--nay, I am your greatest enemy, and she does but journey-work under me. Mel. Ha! how is this? Mask. What do ye think of my being employed in the execution of all her plots? Ha, ha, ha! by Heaven, it is true; I have undertaken to break the match; I have undertaken to make your uncle disinherit you, to get you turned out of doors, and toha, ha, ha! I can't tell you for laughing- -Oh! she has opened her heart to me- -I am to turn you a grazing, and toha, ha, ha !—marry Cynthia myself: There's a plot for you! Mel. Ha! O see, I see my rising sun! light breaks through clouds upon me, and I shall live in day-O my Maskwell! how shall I thank or praise thee! thou hast outwitted woman.But tell me, how couldst thou thus get into her confidence? Ha! how? But was it her contrivance to persuade my lady Plyant into this extravagant belief? Mask. It was; and, to tell you the truth, I encouraged it for your diversion: though it make you a little uneasy for the present, yet the reflection of it must needs be entertaining-I warrant she was very violent at first. Mel. Ha, ha, ha! ay, a very fury; but I was most afraid of her violence at last. If you had not come as you did, I do not know what she might have attempted. Mask. Ha, ha, ha! I know her temper.Well, you must know, then, that all my contrivances were but bubbles; till, at last, I pretend ed to have been long secretly in love with Cynthia; that did my business; that convinced your aunt I might be trusted; since it was as much my interest as her's to break the match: then she thought my jealousy might qualify me to assist her in her revenge. And, in short, in that belief told me the secrets of her heart. At length, we made this agreement; if I accomplish her designs (as I told you before), she has engaged to put Cynthia, with all her fortune, into my power. Mel. She is most gracious in her favour.-Well, and dear Jack, how hast thou contrived? Mask. I would not have you stay to hear it now: for I don't know but she may come this way; I am to meet her anon; after that, I will tell you the whole matter: be here, in this gallery, an hour hence; by that time, I imagine, our consultation may be over. Mel. I will; till then, success attend thee! [Erit. Mask. Till then, success will attend me; for when I meet you, I meet the only obstacle to my fortune. Cynthia, let thy beauty gild my crimes; and whatsoever I commit of treachery or deceit shall be imputed to me as a merit. Treachery! What treachery? Love cancels all the bonds of friendship, and sets men right upon their first foundations. Duty to kings, piety to parents, gratitude to benefactors, and fidelity to friendsare different and particular ties; but the name of rival cuts them all asunder, and is a general acquittance-Rival is equal; and love, like death, an universal leveller of mankind. Ha! but is there not such a thing as honesty? Yes, and whosoever has it about him, bears an enemy in his breast: for your honest man, as I take it, is that nice, scrupulous, conscientious person, who will cheat nobody but himself; such another coxcomb as your wise man, who is too hard for all the world, and will be made a fool of by nobody but himself. Ha, ha, ha! well, for wisdom and honesty, give me cunning and hypocrisy. Oh, it is such a pleasure to angle for fair-faced fools! Then, that hungry gudgeon, Credulity, will bite at any thing-Why, let me see, I have the same face, the same words and accents, when I speak what I do think, and when I speak what I do not think the very same-and dear dissimulation is the only art not to be known from nature. Why will mankind be fools, and be deceived? And why are friends' and lovers' oaths believed? When each, who searches strictly his own mind, May so much fraud and power of baseness find. [Exit. SCENE I. ACT III. Enter LORD TOUCHWOOD, and LADY TOUCH WOOD. Lady Touch. My lord, can you blame my brother Plyant, if he refuse his daughter upon this provocation? The contract is void, by this unheard of impiety. Lord Touch. I don't believe it true; he has better principles-Pho, 'tis nousense. Come, come, I know my lady Plyant has a large eye, and would centre every thing in her own circle; 'tis not the first time she has mistaken respect for love, and made sir Paul jealous of the civility of an undesigning person, the better to bespeak his security in her unfeigned pleasures. Lady Touch. You censure hardly, my lord; my sister's honour is very well known. Lord Touch. Yes, I believe I know some that have been familiarly acquainted with it. This is a little trick, wrought by some pitiful contriver, envious of my nephew's merit. Lady Touch. Nay, my lord, it may be so, and I hope it will be found so: but that will require some time; for, in such a case as this, demonstration is necessary, cing to me, which create your satisfaction or disquiet. Lady Touch. But those which cause my disquiet I am willing to have remote from your hear ing. Good my lord, don't press me. Lord Touch. Don't oblige me to press you. Lady Touch. Whatever it was, it is past; and that is better to be unknown which cannot be prevented; therefore, let me beg of you to rest satisfied Lord Touch. When you have told me, I will-. Lord Touch. By my life, my dear, I will. Lord Touch. How? Then, I must know; nay, Lord Touch. There should have been demon-you. stration of the contrary, too, before it had been believed Lady Touch. So, I suppose, there was. Lord Touch. How? Where? When? Lady Touch. That I cannot tell; nay, I don't say there was-I am willing to believe as favourably of my nephew as I can. Lord Touch. I don't know that. [Half aside. Lady Touch. How? Don't you believe that, say you, my lord? Lord Touch. No, I don't say so-I confess I am troubled to find you so cold in his defence. Lady Touch. His defence! Bless me, would you have me defend an ill thing? Lord Touch. You believe it, then? Lady Touch. I don't know; I am very unwilling to speak my thoughts in any thing that may be to my cousin's disadvantage. Besides, I find, my lord, you are prepared to receive an ill impression from any opinion of mine which is not consenting with your own: but, since I am like to be suspected in the end, and 'tis a pain any longer to dissemble, I own it to you: In short, I do believe it, nay, and can believe any thing worse, if it were laid to his charge-Don't ask me my reasons, my lord, for they are not fit to be told you. Lord Touch. I am amazed! Here must be something more than ordinary in this. [Aside.] Not fit to be told me, madam? You have no interest wherein I am not concerned; and, consequently, the same reasons ought to be convinVOL. II. | Lord Touch. Well, well. Lady Touch. Nay, but will you be calm?— Indeed, it is nothing but Lord Touch. But what? Lady Touch. But will you promise me not to be angry?-Nay, you must not to be angry with Mellefont-I dare swear he is sorry; and, were it to do again, would not Lord Touch. Sorry, for what? 'Death! you rack me with delay. Lady Touch. Nay, no great matter, onlyWell, I have your promise-Pho, why, nothing; only your nephew had a mind to amuse himself sometimes with a little gallantry towards me. Nay, I cannot think he meant any thing seriously, but methought it looked oddly. Lord Touch. Confusion and hell, what do I hear! Lady Touch. Or, may be, he thought he was not enough akin to me upon your account, and had a mind to create a nearer relation on his own; a lover, you know, my lord-ha, ha, ha! Well, but that's all. Now you have it; well, remember your promise, my lord, and don't take any notice of it to him. Lord Touch. No, no, no-Damnation ! Lady Touch. Nay, I swear you must not-A little harmless mirth-only misplaced, that's all, But if it were more, it is over now, and all is well. For my part, I have forgot it; and so has he, I hope; for I have not heard any thing from him these two days. 2 Lord Touch. These two days! Is it so fresh? | Unnatural villain! 'Death, I will have him stripped, and turned naked out of my doors this moment, and let him rot and perish, incestuous brute! Lady Touch. Oh, for Heaven's sake, my lord, you will ruin me, if you take such public notice of it; it will be a town-talk: consider your own, and my honour-Nay, I told you, you would not be satisfied when you knew it. Lord Touch. Before I have done, I will be satisfied. Ungrateful monster! How long? Lady Touch. Lord! I don't know- -I wish my lips had grown together when I told youAlmost a twelvemonth-Nay, I won't tell you any more till you are yourself. Pray, my lord, don't let the company see you in this disorder-Yet, I confess, I cannot blame you; for I think I was never so surprised in my life. Who would have thought my nephew could have so misconstrued my kindness-But will you go into your closet, and recover your temper. I will make an excuse of sudden business to the company, and come to you. Pray, good dear my lord, let me beg you do now: I will come immediately, and tell you all-Will you, my lord? Lord Touch. I will-I am mute with wonder. Lady Touch. Well, but go now; here is somebody coming. Lord Touch. Well, I go-You won't stay, for I would hear more of this. [Exit. Lady Touch. I follow instantly-So. Enter MASK WELL. Mask. This was a master-piece, and did not need my help--though I stood ready for a cue to come in and confirm all, had there been occasion. Lady Touch. Have you seen Mellefont? Mask. I have; and am to meet him here about this time. Lady Touch. How does he bear his disappointment? Mask. Secure in my assistance, he seemed not much afflicted, but rather laughed at the shallow artifice, which so little time must, of necessity, discover. Yet he is apprehensive of some farther design of yours, and has engaged me to watch you. I believe he will hardly be able to prevent your plot; yet I would have you use caution and expedition. Lady Touch. Expedition indeed; for all we do must be peformed in the remaining part of this evening, and before the company break up, lest my lord should cool, and have an opportunity to talk with him privately-My lord must not see him again. Mask. By no means; therefore, you must aggravate my lord's displeasure to a degree that will admit of no conference with him-What think you of mentioning me? Lady Touch. How? Mellefont's design upon you; but still using my utmost endeavours to dissuade him though my friendship and love to him has made me conceal it, yet you may say, I threatened, the next time he attempted any thing of that kind, to discover it to my lord. Lady Touch. To what end is this? Mask. It will confirm my lord's opinion of my honour and honesty, and create in him a new confidence in me, which (should this design miscarry) will be necessary to the forming another plot that I have in my head-to cheat you as well as the rest. [Aside. Lady Touch. I'll do it. Mask. Excellent! You had best go to my lord, keep him as long as you can in his closet, and I doubt not but you will mould him to what you please; your guests are so engaged in their own follies and intrigues, they'll miss neither of you. When shall we meet? Lady Touch. At eight this evening, in my chamber; there, rejoice at our success, and toy away an hour in mirth. [Exit, Mask. I will not fail. I know what she means by toying away an hour well enough. Pox, I have lost all my appetite to her; yet she's a fine woman, and I loved her once. Should she smoke my design upon Cynthia, I were in a fine pickle. She has a damned penetrating head, and knows how to interpret a coldness the right way; therefore, I must dissemble ardour and ecstacy, that's resolved: Ha! yonder comes Mellefont thoughtful. Let me think: meet her at eight-humha! by Heaven I have it-if I can speak to my lord before-I will deceive them all, and yet secure myself; 'twas a lucky thought! Well, this double-dealing is a jewel. Here he comes! now for me [MASKWELL, pretending not to see him, walks by him, and speaks as it were to himself.] Enter MELLEFONT, musing. Mercy on us! what will the wickedness of this world come to? Mel. How now, Jack? What, so full of contemplation that you run over! Mask. I'm glad you are come, for I could not contain myself any longer, and was just going to give vent to a secret, which nobody but you ought to drink down. Your aunt is just gone from hence. Mel. And having trusted thee with the secrets of her soul, thou art villainously bent to discover them all to me, ha? Mask. I am afraid my frailty leans that waybut I dont know, whether I can, in honour, discover them all. Mel. All, all, man. What, you may, in honour, betray her as far as she betrays herself. No tragical design upon my person, I hope. Mask. No, but it is a comical design upon Mask. To my lord, as having been privy to mine. Mel. What dost thou mean? Mask. Listen, and be dumb- -we have been bargaining about the rate of your ruinMel. Like any two guardians to an orphan heiress-Well. Mask. And whereas pleasure is generally paid with mischief, what mischief I do is to be paid with pleasure. Mel. So, when you've swallowed the potion, you sweeten your mouth with a plumb. Mask. You are merry, sir, but I shall probe your constitution. In short, the price of your banishment is to be paid with the person of Mel. Of Cynthia, and her fortune-why, you forget you told me this before. Mask. No, no-so far, you are right; and I am, as an earnest of that bargain, to have full and free possession of the person of- -your aunt. Mel. Ha! Pho, you trifle. Mask. By this light, I am serious; all raillery apart-I knew 'twould stun you: this evening, at eight, she will receive me in her bed-chamber. Mel. Hell and the devil! is she abandoned all grace—why? the woman is possessed about; but I made love a great while to no purpose. Mel. Why, what's the matter? she is convinced that I don't care for her. Care. I cannot get an answer from her, that does not begin with her honour, or her virtue, her religion, or some such cant. Then, she has told me the whole story of sir Paul's nine year's courtship; how he has lain, for whole nights together, upon the stairs before her chamber-door; and that the first favour he received from her was a piece of an old scarlet petticoat for a stomacher; which, since the day of his marriage, he has, out of a piece of gallantry, converted into a nightcap, and wears it still with much solemnity on his anniversary wedding night. Mel. That I have seen, with the ceremony thereunto belonging-for, on that night, he creeps in at the bed's feet, like a gulled bassa that has married a relation of the grand signior. I wonder he never told you his grievances; he will, I warrant you. Care. Excessively foolish! but that, which of.gives me most hopes of her, is her telling me of the many temptations she has resisted. Mask. Well, will you go in my stead? Mel. By Heaven, into a hot furnace sooner! Mask. No, you would not-it would not be so convenient, as I can order matters. Mel. What do you mean? Mel. Nay, then you have her; for a woman's bragging to a man, that she has overcome temptations, is an argument, that they were weakly offered, and a challenge to him to engage her more irresistibly. 'Tis only an enhancing the price of the commodity, by telling you how many custom Mask. Mean! not to disappoint the lady, I assure you-Ha, ha, ha! how gravely he looks-ers have underbid her. come, come, I won't perplex you. 'Tis the only thing that Providence could have contrived to make me capable of serving you, either to my inclination, or your own necessity. Mel. How, how, for Heaven's sake, dear Maskwell? Mask. Why thus-I'll go according to appointment; you shall have notice, at the critical minute, to come and surprize your aunt and me together; counterfeit a rage against me, and I will make my escape through the private passage from her chamber, which I will take care to leave open: 'twill be hard, if then you can't bring her to any conditions. For this discovery will disarm her of all defence, and leave her entirely at your mercy: nay, she must ever after be in awe of you. Mel. Let me adore thee, my better genius! by Heaven, I think it is not in the power of Fate to disappoint my hopes-my hopes! my certainty. Mask. Well, I'll meet you here within a quarter of eight, and give you notice. Care. Nay, I dont despair—but still she has a grudging to you-I talked to her t'other night at my lord Froth's masquerade, when I am satisfied she knew me, and I had no reason to complain of my reception; but I find women are not the same bare-faced, and in masks-and a vizor disguises their inclinations as much as their faces. Mel. Here they come. I'll leave you. Ply her close, and by and by clap a billet-doux into her hand: for a woman never thinks a man truly in love with her, till he has been fool enough to think of her out of her sight, and to lose so much time as to write to her. [Exit MELLEFONT. Enter SIR PAUL and LADY PLYANT. Sir Paul. Shan't we disturb your meditation, Mr Careless? You would be in private? Care. You bring that along with you, sir Paul, that shall be always welcome to my privacy. Sir Paul. O, sweet sir! you load your humble servants, both me and my wife, with contifavours. [Exit MASKWELL.nual Mel. Good fortune ever go along with thee. Enter CARELess. Care. Mellefont, get out of the way; my lady Plyant's coming, and I shall never succeed, while thou art in sight-though she begins to tack Lady Ply. Sir Paul, what a phrase was there! You will be making answers, and taking that upon you, which ought to lie upon me that you should have so little breeding to think Mr Careless did not apply himself to me! Pray, what have you to entertain any body's privacy? I swear |