Wit. You shall see he wont go to them, because there's no more company here to take notice of him. Why this is nothing to what he used to do before he found out this way, I have known him call for himself Fain. Call for himself! what dost thou mean? Wit. Mean! why he would slip you out of this chocolate-house, just when you had been talking to him. As soon as your back was turnedwhip he was gone; then trip to his lodging, clap on a hood and a scarf, and a mask, slap into a hackney-coach, and drive hither to the door again in a trice; where he would send in for himself, that is, I mean, call for himself, wait for himself, nay, and what's more, not finding himself, sometimes leave a letter for himself. Mira. I confess this is something extraordinary. I believe he waits for himself now, he is so long a coming: O, I ask his pardon. Enter PETULANT and BETTY. Pet. Well, well; I come-'Sbud, a man had as good be a professed midwife, as a professed gallant, at this rate; to be knocked up, and raised at all hours, and in all places. Deuce on them, I wont come-D'ye hear, tell them I wont come -Let them snivel and cry their hearts [Exit BETTY. Fain. You are very cruel, Petulant. Pet. All's one, let it pass out. mour to be cruel. -I have a hu Mira. I hope they are not persons of condition, that you use at this rate. Pet. Condition! condition's a dried fig, if I am not in humour By this hand, if they were your a -a-your what-d'ye-call-'ems themselves, they must wait, or rub off, if I am not in the vein. Mira. What-d'ye-call-'ems! what are they, Witwould? Wit. Empresses, my dear-By your what- Fain. Witwould says they are- Pet. Pass on, Witwould-Harkee, by this light his relations-Two co-heiresses, his cousins, and an old aunt, who loves intriguing better than a conventicle, Wit. Ha, ha, ha! I had a mind to see how the rogue would come off-Ha, ha, ha! gad, I can't be angry with him, if he had said they were my mother and my sisters. Mira. No! Pet. Enough, let them trundle. Anger helps complexion, saves paint. Fain. This continence is all dissembled; this is in order to have something to brag of the next time he makes court to Millamant, and swear he has abandoned the whole sex for her sake. Mira. Have you not left off your impudent pretensions there yet? I shall cut your throat, some time or other, Petulant, about that business. -There are Pet. Aye, aye, let that passother throats to be cut Mira. Meaning mine, sir? Pet. Not I; I mean nobody; I know nothing; But there are uncles and nephews in the world; and there may be rivals-What, then? all's one for that Mira. Now, harkee, Petulant, come hitherExplain, or I shall call your interpreter. Pet. Explain! I know nothing- -Why you have an uncle, have you not, lately come to town, and lodges by my lady Wishfort's? Mira. True. Pet. Why that's enough; you and he are not friends: and if he should marry and have a child, you may be disinherited, ha! Mira. Where hast thou stumbled upon all this truth! Pet. All's one for that; why, then, say I know something. Mira. Come, thou art an honest fellow, Petulant, and shalt make love to my mistress; thou shalt, faith. What hast thou heard of my uncle? Pet. I nothing; I! If throats are to be cut, let swords clash: snug's the word; I shrug and am silent. Mira. O raillery, raillery! Come, I know thou art in the women's secrets-what, you're a cabalist? I know you staid at Millamant's last night, after I went, Was there any mention made of my uncle or me? tell me. If thou hadst but good nature equal to thy wit, Petulant, Tony Witwould, who is now thy competitor in fame, would shew as dim by thee as a dead whiting's eye by a pearl of orient; he would no more be seen by thee, than Mercury is by the sun. Come, I'm sure thou wo't tell me. Pet. If I do, will you grant me common sense, then, for the future? Mira. Faith I'll do what I can for thee; and I'll pray that it may be granted thee in the mean time. Pet. Well, harkee. [They talk apart. Fain. Petulant and you, both, will find Mirabell as warm a rival as a lover. Wit. 'Pshaw, 'pshaw! that she laughs at Pe Wit. No; the rogue's wit and readiness of in- tulant, is plain. And, for my part-but that it is vention charm me, dear Petulant. Enter BETTY. Bet. They are gone, sir, in great anger. almost a fashion to admire her, I shouldharkee-to tell you a secret, but let it go no farther-between friends, I shall never break my heart for her. Fain. How! Mira. I thank you, I know as much as my Wit. She's handsome; but she's a sort of an curiosity requires. Fainall, are you for the Mall? uncertain woman. Wit. 'Tis what she will hardly allow any body else-now, I should hate that, if she were as handsome as Cleopatra. Mirabell is not so sure of her, as he thinks for. Fain. Why do you think so? Wit. We staid pretty late there last night; and heard something of an uncle to Mirabeli, who is lately come to town, and is between him and the best part of his estate; Mirabell and he are at some distance, as my lady Wishfort has been told; and, you know, she hates Mirabell worse than a quaker hates a parrot, or than a fishmonger hates a hard frost. Whether this uncle has seen Mrs Millamant or not, I cannot say; but there were items of such a treaty being in embryo; and, if it should come to life, poor Mirabell would be, in some sort, unfortunately fobbed, i'faith! Fain. Aye, I'll take a turn before dinner. Wit. Aye, we'll all walk in the park; the ladies talk of being there. Mira, I thought you were obliged to watch for your brother sir Wilfull's arrival. Wit. No, no; he comes to his aunt's, my lady Wishfort: plague on him, I shall be troubled with him, too; what shall I do with the fool? Pet. Beg him for his estate, that I may beg you afterwards; and so have but one trouble with you both. Wit. O rare Petulant! thou art as quick as fire in a frosty morning; thou shalt to the Mall with us, and we'll be very severe. Pet. Enough, I'm in a humour to be severe. Mira. Are you? Pray, then, walk by yourselves-let not us be accessary to your putting the ladies out of countenance with your senseless ribaidry, which you roar out aloud as often as they pass by you; and, when you have made a handsome woman blush, then you think you have Fain. 'Tis impossible Millamant should heark-been severe. en to it. Wit. Faith, my dear, I can't tell; she's a woman, and a kind of a humourist. Mira. And this is the sum of what you could collect last night? Pet. The quintessence. May be Witwould knows more; he staid longer-besides, they never mind him; they say any thing before him. Mira. I thought you had been the greatest favourite. Pet. Aye, tête à tête; but not in public, because I make remarks. Mira. You do? Pet. Aye, aye; I'm malicious, man. Now, he's soft, you know; they are not in awe of him -the fellow's well-bred; he's what you call a— what d'ye-call them, a fine gentleman; but he's silly withal. Pet. What, what? then let them either shew their innocence, by not understanding what they hear, or else shew their discretion by not hearing what they would not be thought to understand. Mira. But hast not thou, then, sense enough to know, that thou ought'st to be most ashamed thyself, when thou hast put another out of countenance? Pet. Not I, by this hand- -I always take blushing either for a sign of guilt, or ill-breeding. You Mira. I confess you ought to think so. are in the right, that you may plead the error of your judgment, in defence of your practice. Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit That impudence and malice pass for wit. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-St James's Park. ACT II. Enter MRS FAINALL, and MRS MARWOOD. Mrs Fain. AYE, aye, dear Marwood, if we will be happy, we must find the means in ourselves, and among ourselves. Men are ever in extremes; either doating, or averse. While they are lovers, if they have fire and sense, their jealousies are insupportable: and, when they cease to love, (we ought to think at least) they lothe they look upon us with horror and distaste; they meet us like the ghosts of what we were, and, as from such, fly from us. Mrs Mar. True; 'tis an unhappy circumstance of life, that love should ever die before us; and that the man so often should outlive the lover. But, say what you will, 'tis better to be left, than never to have been loved. To pass our youth in dull indifference, to refuse the sweets of life, because they once must leave us, is as preposterous, as to wish to have been born old, because we one day must be old. For my part, my youth may wear and waste, but it shall never rust in my possession. Mrs Fain. Then, it seems, you dissemble an aversion to mankind, only in compliance to my mother's humour. Mrs Mar. Certainly. To be free; I have no taste of those insipid, dry discourses, with which our sex, of force, must entertain themselves apart from men. We may affect endearments to each other, profess eternal friendships, and seem to dote like lovers; but 'tis not in our natures long to persevere. Love will resume his empire in our breasts, and every heart, or soon or late, resume and re-admit him as its lawful tyrant. Mrs Fain. Bless me! how have I been deceived? Why, you're a professed libertine. Mrs Mar. You see my friendship by my freedom. Come, be as sincere; acknowledge that your sentiments agree with mine. Mrs Fain. Never. Mrs Mar. You hate mankind? Mrs Fain. Heartily, inveterately. Mrs Fain. Most transcendently; aye, though Mrs Mar. Give me your hand upon it. Mrs Mar. I join with you; what I have said, has been to try you. Mrs Fain. Is it possible? dost thou hate those vipers, men? Mrs Mar. I have done hating them, and am now come to despise them; the next thing I have to do, is eternally to forget them. Mrs Fain. There spoke the spirit of an Amazon, a Penthesilea, Mrs Mar. And yet I am thinking sometimes to carry my aversion farther. Mrs Fain. How? Mrs Fain. Do I? I think I am a little sick o' the sudden. Mrs Mar. What ails you? Mrs Fain. My husband. Don't you see him? He turned short upon me unawares, and has al most overcome me. Enter FAINALL and MIRABELL. Mrs Mar. Ha, ha, ha! he comes opportunely for you. Mrs Fain. For you; for he has brought Mirabell with him. Fain. My dear! Mrs Fain. My soul! Fain. You don't look well to-day, child. Mira. He's the only man that does, madam. Mrs Fain. The only man that would tell me so, at least; and the only man from whom I could hear it without mortification. Fain. Oh, my dear, I am satisfied of your tenderness; I know you cannot resent any thing from me; especially what is an effect of my con cern. Mrs Fain. Mr Mirabell, my mother interrupted you in a pleasant relation, last night; I could fain hear it out. Mira. The persons, concerned in that affair, have yet a tolerable reputation. I am afraid Mr Fainall will be censorious. Mrs Fain. He has a humour more prevailing than his curiosity, and will willingly dispense Mrs Mar. By marrying; if I could but find with the hearing of one scandalous story, to one, that loved me very well, and would be avoid giving an occasion to make another, by bethoroughly sensible of ill usage, I think I shoulding seen to walk with his wife. This way, M do myself the violence of undergoing the cere niony. Mrs Fain. You would not dishonour him? Mrs Mar. No, but I'd make him believe I did, and that's as bad. Mrs Fain. Why, had you not as good do it? Mrs Mar. Oh, if he should ever discover it, he would then know the worst, and be out of his pain; but I would have him ever to continue upon the rack of fear and jealousy. Mrs Fain. Ingenious mischief! would thou wert married to Mirabell! Mrs Mar. Would I were ! Mrs Fain. So do I; but I can hear him named. But what reason have you to hate him in particular? Mrs Mar. I never loved him; he is, and always was, insufferably proud. your Mrs Fain. By the reason you give for aversion, one would think it dissembled; for you have laid a fault to his charge, of which his enemies must acquit him. Mrs Mar. Oh, then, it seems you are one of his favourable enemies. Methinks you look a little pale, and now you flush again. VOL. II. Mirabell, and, I dare promise, you will oblige us both. [Ereunt MRS FAINALL and MIRABELL. Fain. Excellent creature! well, sure, if I should live to be rid of my wife, I should be a miserable man. Mrs Mar. Aye? Fain. You misinterpret my reproof. I meant but to remind you of the slight account you once could make of strictest ties, when set in competition with your love to me. Mrs Mar. 'Tis false; you urged it with deli Fain. That I have been deceived, madam, and berate malice-Twas spoke in scorn, and I never you are false. Mrs Mar. That I am false! What mean you? Fain. To let you know, I see through all your little arts-come, you both love him, and both have equally dissembled your aversion. Your mutual jealousies of one another have made you clash, till you have both struck fire. I have seen the warm confession reddening on your cheeks, and sparkling from your eyes. Mrs Mar. You do me wrong. Fain. I do not 'Twas for my case to over see and wilfully neglect the gross advances made him by my wife; that, by permitting her to be engaged, I might continue unsuspected in my pleasures; and take you oftener to my arms in full security, But could you think, because the nodding husband would not wake, that e'er the watchful lover slept? Mrs Mar. And wherewithal can you reproach me? Fain. With infidelity; with loving another; with love of Mirabell. Mrs Mar. 'Tis false. I challenge you to shew an instance, that can confirm your groundless accusation. I hate him. Fain. And wherefore do you hate him? He is insensible, and your resentment follows his neglect. An instance! The injuries you have done him are a proof: your interposing in his love. What cause had you to make discoveries of his pretended passion? to undeceive the credulous aunt, and be the officious obstacle of his match with Millamant? Mrs Mar. My obligations to my lady urged me: I had professed a friendship to her; and could not see her easy nature so abused by that dissembler. Fain. What, was it conscience, then? Professed a friendship! O the pious friendships of the female sex Mrs Mar. More tender, more sincere, and more enduring, than all the vain and empty vows of men, whether professing love to us, or mutual faith to one another. too. Fain. Ha, ha, hạ! you are my wife's friend. Mrs Mar. Shame and ingratitude! Do you reproach me? You, you upbraid me! Have I been false to her through strict fidelity to you, and sacrificed my friendship to keep my love inviolate? and have you the baseness to charge me with the guilt, unmindful of the merit! To you it should be meritorious, that I have been vicious; and do you reflect that guilt upon me, which should lie buried in your bosom? will forgive it. Fain. Your guilt, not your resentment, begets your rage. If yet you loved, you could forgive a jealousy but you are stung to find, you are discovered. Mrs Mar. It shall be all discovered. You, too, shall be discovered; be sure you shall. I can but be exposed-If I do it myself I shall prevent your baseness. Fain. Why, what will you do? Mrs Mar. Disclose it to your wife; own what has past between us. Fain. Frenzy! Mrs Mar. By all my wrongs, I'll do it!—I'll publish to the world the injuries you have done me, both in my fame and fortune: with both I trusted you; you, bankrupt in honour, as indigent of wealth. Fain. Your fame I have preserved. Your fortune has been bestowed, as the prodigality of your love would have it, in pleasures, which we both have shared. Yet, had not you been false, I had, ere this, repaid it-Tis true-had you permitted Mirabell with Millamant to have stolen their marriage, my lady had been incensed beyond all means of reconcilement: Millamant had forfeited the moiety of her fortune, which then would have descended to my wife. And wherefore did I marry, but to make lawful prize of a rich widow's wealth, and squander it on love and you? Mrs Mar. Deceit and frivolous pretence. Fain. Death! am I not married? what's pretence? Am I not imprisoned, fettered? have I not a wife? nay, a wife, that was a widow, a young widow, a handsome widow; and would be again a widow, but that I have a heart of proof, and something of a constitution to bustle through the ways of wedlock and this world? Will you be reconciled to truth and me? Mrs Mar. Impossible. Truth and you are inconsistent- -I hate you, and shall for Mrs Mar. Well, I have deserved it all. Fain. You know I love you. Mrs Mar. Poor dissembling! O that Well, it is not yet Fain. What? what is it not? what is not yet? is it not yet too late privy to my whole design, and put it in your power to ruin or advance my fortune. Mrs Fain. Whom have you instructed to represent your pretended uncle? Mira. Waitwell, my servant. Mrs Fain. He is a humble servant to Foible, Mrs Mar. No, it is not yet too late-I my mother's woman, and may win her to your have that comfort. Fain. It is, to love another. Mrs Mar. But not to loath, detest, abhor mankind, myself, and the whole treacherous world. Fain. Nay, this is extravagance-Come, I ask your pardon-No tears- -I was to blame; I could not love you and be easy in my doubtsPray forbear I believe you; I'm convinced I've done you wrong; and any way, every way will make amends ;- -I'll hate my wife yet more, damn her; I'll part with her, rob her of all she's worth, and we'll retire somewhere, any where, to another world. I'll marry theeBe pacified- 'Sdeath! they come, hide your face, your tears- -You have a mask, wear it a moment. This way, this way-be persuaded! [Exeunt. Enter MIRABELL and MRS FAINALL. Mrs Fain. They are here yet. Mira. They are turning into the other walk. Mrs Fain. While I only hated my husband, I could bear to see him; but since I have despised him, he is too offensive. Mira. O you should hate with prudence. tion. Mira. You should have just so much disgust for your husband, as may be sufficient to make you relish your lover. Mrs Fain. You have been the cause, that I have loved without bounds; and would you set limits to that aversion, of which you have been the occasion? why did you make me marry this man? Mira. Why do we daily commit disagreeable and dangerous actions? To save that idol reputation. If the familiarities of our loves had produced that consequence, of which you were apprehensive, where could you have fixed a father's name with credit, but on a husband? I knew Fainall to be a man lavish of his morals, an interested and professing friend, a false and a designing lover; yet one whose wit and outward fair behaviour have gained a reputation with the town, enough to make that woman stand excused, who has suffered herself to be won by his addresses. A better man ought not to have been sacrificed to the occasion; a worse had not answered to the purpose. When you are weary of him, you know your remedy. Mrs Fain. I ought to stand in some degree of credit with you, Mirabell. Mira. In justice to you, I have made you interest. Mira. Waitwell and Foible. I would not tempt my servant to betray me by trusting him too far. If your mother, in hopes to ruin me, should consent to marry my pretended uncle, he might, like Mosca in the Fox, stand upon terms; so I made him sure before-hand. Mrs Fain. So, if my poor mother is caught in a contract, you will discover the imposture betimes; and release her, by producing a certificate of her gallant's former marriage? Mira. Yes, upon condition that she consent to my marriage with her niece, and surrender the moiety of her fortune in her possession. Mrs Fain. She talked last night of endeavouring at a match between Millamant and your uncle. Mira. That was by Foible's direction, and my instruction, that she might seem to carry it more privately. Mrs Fain. Well, I have an opinion of your success; for I believe my lady will do any thing to get a husband, and when she has this, which you have provided for her, I suppose she will submit to any thing to get rid of him. Mira. Yes, I think the good lady would marry any thing that resembled a man, though 'twere no more than what a butler could pinch out of a napkin. Mrs Fain. Female frailty! we must all come to it, if we live to be old, and feel the craving of a false appetite, when the true is decayed. Mira. An old woman's appetite is depraved like that of a girl-'tis the green-sickness of a second childhood; and, like the faint offer of a latter spring, serves but to usher in the fall, and withers in an affected bloom. Mrs Fain. Here's your mistress. Enter MRS MILLAMANT, WITWOULD, and MINCING. Mira. Here she comes, i'faith, full sail, with her fan spread, and streamers out, and a shoal of fools for tenders-ha, no; I cry her mercy. Mrs Fain. I see but one poor empty sculler; and he tows her woman after him, Mira. You seem to be unattended, madamYou used to have the beau-monde throng after you, and a flock of gay fine perukes hovering round you. Wit. Like moths about a candle-I.had like |