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Lure. Clincher ! Nay, now you're stark mad. LUREWELL comes down with CLINCHER Senior.
I know no such person.
Stand. Oh, woman in perfection ! not know Lure. Oh, Lord, sir, it is my husband! What him? 'Slife, madam, can my eyes, my piercing, will become of you?
jealous eyes, be so deluded? Nay, madam, my Clin. sen. Ah, your husband! Oh, I shall be nose could not mistake him ; for I smelt the fop murdered ! What shall I do? Where shall I run? by his pulvilio from the balcony down to the I'll creep into an oven; I'll climb up the chim- street. ney ; I'll Ay; I'll swim; I wish to the Lord I Lure. The balcony! Ha, ha, ha! the balcony ! were at the jubilee now.
I'll be hanged but he has mistaken Sir Harry Lure. Cann't you think of any thing, sir? Wildair's footman, with a new French livery, for
Clin. sen. Think! not I; I never could think a beau. to any purpose
Stand. 'Sdeath, madam, what is there in me Lure. What do you want, sir?
that looks like a cully! Did not I see him?
Lure. No, no, you could not see him ; you're Enter Tom ERRAND.
dreaming, colonel. Will you believe your eyes, Er. Madam, I am looking for Sir Harry Wild now that I have rubbed them open?—Here, you air; I saw him come in here this morning, and friend. did imagine he might be here still, if he is not
Enter ERRAND, in CLINCHER Senior's Clothes. gone.
Lure. A lucky hit! Here, friend, change Stand. This is illusion all; my eyes conspire clothes with this gentleman, quickly; strip. against themselves. 'Tis leger-de-main.
Clin. sen. Ay, ay, quickly, strip: I'll give you Lure. Leger-de-main! Is that all your acknowhalf a crown to boot." Come here; so.
ledgment for your rude behaviour !--Oh, what a [They change clothes. curse is it to love as I do !—But don't preLure. Now slip you (to Clin. sen.) down stairs, sume too far, sir, on my affection : for such unand wait at the door till my husband be gone; generous usage will soon return my tired heart. and get you in there (to the Porter) till I call -—Be gone, sir, [to the Porter) to your impertiyou. (Puts ERRAND in the next room. nent master, and tell him I shall never be at lei.
sure to receive any of his troublesome visits.Enter STANDARD.
Send to me to know when I should be at home! Oh, sir, are you come? I wonder, sir, how you -Be gone, sir.-I am sure he has made me an have the confidence to approach me after so base unfortunate woman,
[Il'eeps. a trick ?
Stand. Nay, then there is no certainty in naStand. Oh, madam, all your artifices won't ture, and truth is only falsehood well disguised. avail.
Lure. Sir, had not I owned my fond, foolish Lure. Nay, sir, your artifices won't avail. I passion, I should not have been subject to such thought, sir, that I gave you caution enough against unjust suspicious: but it is an ungrateful return. troubling me with Sir Harry Wildair's company
[Weeping: when I sent his letters back by you ? yet, you, Stand. Now, where are all my firm resolves? forsooth, must tell him where I lodged, and ex I will believe her just. My passion raised my pose me again to his impertinent courtship! jealousy; then, why wayn't love be as blind in
Stand. I expose you to his courtship! finding faults, as in excusing them !-I hope,
Lure. I'll lay my life you'll deny it now. madam, you'll pardon me, since jealousy, that Come, come, sir; a pitiful lie is as scandalous to magnified my suspicion, is as much the effect of a red coat as an oath to a black. Did not Sir love, as my easiness in being satisfied. Harry himself tell me, that he found out by you Lure. Easiness in being satisfied! You men where I lodged ?
have got an insolent way of extorting pardon, Stand. You're all lies : first, your heart is false; by persisting in your faults. No, no, sir; cheyour eyes are double; one look belies another; rish your suspicions, and feed upon your jealand then your tongue does contradict them all-ousy: ’tis fit meat for your squeamish stomach. Madam, I see a little devil just now hammering with me all women should this rule pursue: out a lie in your pericranium.
Who think us false, should never find us true. Lure. As I hope for mercy, he's in the right on't.—[ Aside.] Hold, sir, you have got the
Enter CLINCHER Senior in the Porter's Clothes. play-house cant upon your tongue; and think that wit may privilege your railing: but I must Clin. sen. Well, intriguing is the prettiest, tell you, sir, that what is satire upon the stage, pleasantest thing for a man of my parts. How is ill manners here.
shall we laugh at the husband when he is gone! Stand. What is feigned upon the stage, is -How sillily he looks ! He's in labour of horns here in reality-real falsehood. Yes, yes, madam. already.—To make a colonel a cuckold ! 'Twill -I exposed you to the courtship of your fool be rare news for the alderman. Clincher, too, I hope your female wiles will im Stand. All this Sir Harry has occasioned; but pose that upon me also.
he's brave, and will afford me a just revenge.
(Exit in a rage.
Oh, this is the porter I sent the challenge by~ To have his coat well thrash'd, and lose his Well, sir, have you found hina ?
coat also !
[Exit. Clin. sen. What the devil does he mean now? Lure. Thus the noble poet spoke truth : Stand. Have you given Sir Harry the note, Nothing suits worse with vice than want of sense: fellow?
Fools are still wicked at their own expence. Clir. sen. The note! what note?
Par. Methinks, madam, the injuries you have Stand. The letter, blockhead, which I sent by suffered by men must be very great, to raise such you to Sir Harry Wildair; have you seen him? heavy resentments against the whole sex,
Clin. sen. Oh, Lord, what shall I say now? Lure. The greatest injury that woman could Seen him ? Yes, sir—No, sir.--I have, sir-I have sustain: they robbed me of that jewel, which
preserved, exalts our sex almost to angels; but Stand. The fellow's mad. Answer me direct- destroyed, debases us below the worst of brutes, ly; sirrah, or I'll break your head.
mankind. Clin. sen. I know Sir Harry very well, sir ; but Par. But I think, madam, your anger should as to the note, sir, I can't remember a word on't: be only confined to the author of your wrongs. truth is, I have a very bad memory.
Lure. The author! Alas, I know him not, Stand. Oh, sir, I'll quicken your memory. which makes my wrongs the greater.
[Strikes him. Par. Not know him? 'Tis odd, madam, that Clin. sen. Zauns, sir, hold !-I did give him a man should rob you of that same jewel you the note.
mentioned, and you not know him. Stand. And what answer?
Lure. Leave trifling: 'tis a subject that always Clin. sen. I mean, I did not give him the note. sours my temper: but since, by thy faithful serStand. What, d’ye banter, rascal ?
vice, I have some reason to contide in your secrecy,
(Strikes him again. hear the strange relation.—Some twelve years Clin. sen. Hold, sir, hold! He did send an an ago, I lived at my father's house in Oxfordshire,
blest with innocence, the ornamental, but weak Stand. What was't, villain?
guard of blooming beauty: I was then just fifteen, Clin. sen. Why, truly, sir, I have forgot it: I an age fatal to the female sex. Our youth is told you
that I had a very treacherous memory. tempting, our innocence credulous, romances Stand. I'll engage you shall remember me this moving, love powerful, and men are-villains. month, rascal. [Beats him off'; and exit. Then it happened, that three young gentlemen
from the university coming into the country, and Enter LUREWELL and Parly.
being benighted, and strangers, called at my faLure. Fort-bon, fort-bon, fort-bon! This is ther's: he was very glad of their company, and better than I expected; but fortune still helps the offered them the entertainment of his house. industrious.
Par. Which they accepted, no doubt. Oli,
these strolling collegians are never abroad but Enter CLINCHER Senior.
upon some mischief. Clin. sen. Ah! the devil take all intriguing, Lure. They had some private frolic or design say I, and him who first invented canes. in their heads, as appeared by their not naming That cursed colonel has got such a knack of one another, which my father perceiving, out of beating his men, that he has left the mark of a civility, made no enquiry into their affairs ; two collar of bandileers about my shoulders.
of them had a heavy, pedantic, university air ; a Lure. Oh, my poor gentleman ! and was it sort of disagreeable scholastic boorishness in their beaten?
behaviour; but the thirdClin. sen. Yes, I have been beaten. But where's Par. Ah, the third, madam,—the third of all my clothes? my clothes ?
things, they say, is very critical. Lure. What, you won't leave me so soon, my
Lure. He was—but, in short, nature cut him dear, will ye?
out for my undoing; he seemed to be about Clin. sen. Will ye !- If ever I peep into a co eighteen. lonel's tent again, may I be forced to run the Par. A fit match for your fifteen as could be. gauntlet. But my clothes, madam.
Lure. He had a genteel sweetness in his face, Lure. I sent the porter down stairs with them ; agraceful comeliness in his person, and his tongue did not you meet him?
was fit to sooth soft innocence into ruin. His Clin. sen. Meet him? No, not I,
very looks were witty, and his expressive eyes Par. No !-He went out at the back-door, spoke softer, prettier things than words could and is run clear away, I'm afraid.
frame. Clin, sen. Gone, say you, and with my clothes, Par. There will be mischief by and by; I never my fine jubilee clothes ?-Oh, the rogue, the heard a woman talk so much of eyes, but there thicf!-Bil have him hang’d for murder -But were tears presently after. how shall I get home in this pickle?
Lure. His discourse was directed to my father, Par. I am afraid, sir, the colonel will be back but his looks to me. After supper I went to my presently, for he dines at home.
chamber, and read Cassandra ; then went to bed, Clin. sen. Oh, then I must sneak off.
and dreamed of him all night; rose in the mornM'as ever such an unfortunate beau,
ing, and made verses ; so fell desperately in love.
-My father was so well pleased with his conver Par. But don't you still love this dear dissemsation, that he begged their company next day ; bler? they consented, and next night, Parly
Lure. Most certainly. "Tis love of him that Par. Ah, next night, madam -next night keeps my anger warm, representing the baseness (I'm afraid) was a night indeed.
of mankind full in view; and makes my resentLure. He bribed my maid, with his gold, out ments work-We shall have that old impotent of her honesty, and me, with his rhetoric, out of letcher, Smuggler, here to-night; I have a plot to my honour-She admitted him into my chamber, swinge him, and his precise nephew, Vizard. and there he vowed, and swore, and wept, and Par. I think, madam, you manage every body sighed and conquered.
(Weeps. that comes in your way. Par. A-lack-a-day, poor fifteen. (Weeps. Lure. No, Parly; those men, whose preten.
Lure. He swore that he would come down from sions I found just and honourable, I fairly dismis Oxford in a fortnight, and marry me.
sed, by letting them know my firm resolutions Par. The old bait, the old bait- I was cheat never to marry. But those villains that would ed just so myself. (Aside.)–But had not you the attempt any honour, I've seldom failed to mawit to know his name all this while?
nage. Lure. Alas, what wit had innocence like mine? Par. What d’ye think of the colonel, madam? He told me, that he was under an obligation to I
suppose his designs are honourable. his companions of concealing himself then, but Lure. That man's a riddle; there's something that he would write to me in two days, and let of honour in his temper that pleases; I'm sure me know his name and quality. After all the he loves me too, because he's soon jealous, and binding oaths of constancy, joining hands, ex soon satisfied. But he's a man still. When I changing hearts, I gave him a ring with this motto: once tried his pulse about marriage, his blood ran Love and honour :--then we parted, and I never as low as a coward's. He swore, indeed, that he saw the dear deceiver more.
loved me, but could not marry me, forsooth, bePar. No, nor never will, I warrant you. cause he was engaged elsewhere. So poor a pre
Lure. I need not tell my griefs, which my fa-tence made me disdain his passion, which other. ther's death made a fair pretence for; he left me wise might have been uneasy to me. But hang sole heiress and executrix to three thousand pounds him, I have teased him enough—Besides, Parly, a year: at last, my love for this single dissembler I begin to be tired of my revenge: but this buss turned to a hatred of the whole sex; and, resolving and guinea I must maul once more. I'll hansel to divert my melancholy, and make my large for his woman's clothes for him. Go get me pen and tune subservient to my pleasure and revenge, I ink; I must write to Vizard too. went to travel, where, in most courts of Europe, Fortune, this once assist me as before : I have done some execution. Here I will play
Two such machines can never work in vain, my last scene; then retire to my country-house, live solitary, and die a penitent.
As thy propitious wheel, and my projecting brain.
vil, and body to the worms-upon every fool's SCENE I.--Codent-Garden.
Stand. I hope you're no coward, sir.
Wild. Coward, sir! I have eight thousand Stand. I thought, Sir Harry, to have met you pounds a year, sir. ere this in a more convenient place; but since Stand. You fought in Flanders, to my knowmy wrongs were without ceremony, my revenge ledge. shall be so too. Draw, sir.
Wild. Ay, for the same reason that I wore a Wild. Draw, sir! What shall I draw?
red coat; because 'twas fashionable. Stand. Come, come, sir, I like your facetinus Stand. Sir, you fought a French count in Pahumour well enough; it shews courage and un
ris. concern. I know you brave; and therefore use Wild. True, sir; but there was no danger of you thus.-Draw your sword.
lands nor tenements : besides, he was a beau, Wild. Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but the like myself. Now you're a soldier, colonel, and devil take me if I fight.-Perhaps, colonel, this fighting's your trade; and I think it downright is the prettiest blade you have seen.
madness to contend with any man in his profesStand. I doubt not but the arm is good; and sion. therefore think both worth my resentment. Come, Stand. Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall sir.
take very unseemly methods, if you don't shew Wild. But pr’ythee, colonel, dost think that I yourself a gentleman. am such a madman as to send my soul to the de Wild. A gentleman! Wby, there again now. A
gentleman! I tell you once more, colonel, that I
Enter Constable. am a baronet, and bave eight thousand pounds a = year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand Const. Hold, neighbours, I command the peace.
the languages-Now I cann't conceive how Wife. Oh, Mr Constable, here's a rogue that running you throngh the body should contribute has murdered my husband, and robbed him of his one jot more to my gentility. But pray, colonel, clothes, I had forgot to ask you, what's the quarrel? Const. Murder and robbery!- Then he must Stand. A woman, sir.
be a gentleman. -Hands off there;-he must Wild. Then I put up my sword. Take her. not be abused. Give an account of yourself. Stund. Sir, my honour's concerned.
Are you a gentleman ? Wild. Nay, if your honour be concerned with Clin. sen. No, sir, I'm a beau. a woman, get it out of her hands as soon as you Const. A beau ? Then you have killed nobocan. An honourable lover is the greatest slave dy, I'm persuaded. How came you by these in nature ; some will say, the greatest fool. Come, clothes, sir ? come, colonel, this is something about the Lady Clin. sen. You must know, sir, that walking Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you satisfaction along, sir, I don't know how, sir, 1 cann't tell in that affair.
where, sir, and so the porter and I changed Stand. Do so then immediately.
clothes, sir. Wild. Put up your sword first; you know I Const. Very well. The man speaks reason, and dare fight : but I had much rather make you a like a gentleman. friend than an enemy. I can assure you, this Wife. But pray, Mr Constable, ask him how lady will prove too hard for one of your temper. he changed clothes with him. You have too much honour, too much, in con Const. Silence, woman, and don't disturb the science, to be a favourite with the ladies. court. Well, sir, how did you change clothes ?
Stand. I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any Clin. sen. Why, sir, he pulled off my coat, and encouragement.
I drew off his: so I put on his coat, and he put Wild. A man can never hear reason with a
on mine. sword in his hand. Sheath your weapon; and Const. Why, neighbours, I don't find that he's then if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body. guilty: search him; and if he carries no arms
Stand. Give me but demonstration of her about him, we'll let biin go. granting you any favour, and it is enough.
[They search his pockets, and pull out his pistols. Wild. Will you take my word?
Clin. sen. Oh, gemini ! My jubilee pistols ! Stand. Pardon me, sir; I cannot.
Const. What, a case of pistols! Then the case Wild. Will you believe your own eyes? is plain. Speak, what are you, sir? Whence came Stand. 'Tis ten to one whether I shall or no; you, and whither go you? they have deceived me already.
Clin. sen. Sir, I came from Russel-street, and Wild. That's hard-but some means I shall am going to the jubilee. devise for your satisfaction-We must fly this life. You shall go to the gallo: s, you rogue. place, else that cluster of mob will overwhelm us. Const. Away with him, away with him to New
[Excunt. | gate, straight. Enter Mob: Tom ERRAND's Wife hurrying in
Clin. ser. I shall go to the jubilee now, indeed.
(Ereunt. CLINCHER Senior in ERRAND's Clothes. Wife. Oh! the villain, the rogue, he has mur
Re-enter WILDAIR and STANDARD. dered my husband. Ah, my poor Timothy! Wild. In short, colonel, 'tis all nonsense: fight
(Crying for a woman ! Hard by is the lady's house; if you Clin
. sen. Dem your Timothy!—your husband please we'll wait on her together : you shall draw has murdered me, woman; for he has carried your sword; l'll draw my snuff-box: you shall away my fine jubilee clothes.
produce your wounds received in war; I'll relate Wife
. Ay, you cut-throat, have you not got mine by Cupid's dart : you shall look big ; I'll his clothes upon your back there? Neighbours, ogle: you shall swear; 'll sigh: you shall sa su, don't you know poor Timothy's coat and apron? and I'll coupée ; and if she flies not to my arms, Mob. Ay, ay, it is the same.
like a hawk to its perch, my dancing-master deIst Mob. What shall we do with him, neigh- serves to be damned.
Stand. With the generality of women, I grant 2d Mob. We'll pull him in pieces.
you, these arts may prevail. Ist Mob. No, no, then we may be hang’d Wild. Generality of women! Why, there again for murder: but we'll drown him.
you're out. They're all alike, sir: I never heard Clin. sen. Ah, good people, pray don't drown of any one that was particular, but one. me; for I never learned to swim in all my life. Stand. Who was she, pray? Ah, this plaguy intriguing!
Wild. Penelope, I think she's called; and that's Mob. Away with him,--away with him to a poetical story too. When will you find a poet
in our age make a woman so chaste? Clin, ser. Oh, if I had but my swimming-gir Stand. Well, Sir Harry, your facetious humour
can disguise falsehood, and make calumny pass
for satire; but you have promised me ocular de Clin. Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, monstration that she favours you: make that my poor jubilee brother ! Stay, by Jupiter Amgood, and I shall then maintain faith and female mon, I'm heir though. Speak, sir; have you kill'd to be as inconsistent as truth and falsehood. him! confess that you have killed him, and I'll
Wild. Nay, by what you told me, I am satis- give you half a crown. fied that she imposes on us all: and Vizard too Err. Who, I, sir ? Alack-a-day, sir, I never seems what I still suspected him: but his honesty killed any man, but a carrier's horse once. once mistrusted spoils his knavery. But will Clin. Then you shall certainly be hanged; but you be convinced, if our plot succeeds ?
confess that you killed him, and we'll let you Stand. I rely on your word and honour, Sir go. Harry; which if I doubted, my distrust would Err. Telling the truth hangs a man, but concancel the obligation of their security.
fessing a lie can do no harm: besides, if the Wild. Then meet me half an hour hence at the worst come to the worst, I can but deny is again. Rummer : you must oblige me by taking a hearty -Well, sir, since I must tell you, I did kill him. glass with me toward the fitting me out for a cer Clin. Here's your money, sir.—But are you tain project, which this night I undertake. sure you killed him dead ?
Stand. I guess, by the preparation, that wo Err. Sir, I'll swear it before any judge in Eng. man’s the design
land. Wild. Yes, 'faith.—I am taken dangerous ill Dick. But are you sure that he's dead in law? with two foolish maladies, modesty and love: the Err. Dead in law! I can't tell whether he be first I'll cure with Burgundy, and my love by a dead in law. But he's as dead as a door-nail; night's lodging with the danisel. A sure remedy. for I gave bim seven knocks on the head with a Probatum est.
hammer. Stand. I'll certainly meet you, sir.
Dick. Then you have the estate by statute.(Exeunt severally. Any man that's knocked o'th' head is dead in
law. Enter CLINCHER Junior and Dicky.
Clin. But are you sure he was compos mentis Clin. Ah, Dicky, this London is a sad place, when he was killed ? a sad vicious place: I wish that I were in the Err. I suppose he was, sir ; for he told me no country again. And this brother of mine-I'm
thing to the contrary afterwards. sorry he's so great a rake: I had rather see him Clin. Hey! Then I go to the jubilee.-Strip, dead than see him thus.
sir, strip. By Jupiter Ammon, strip. Dick. Ay, sir, he'll spend his whole estate at Dick. Ah! don't swear, sir. this same jubilee. Who d’ye think lives at this
(Puts on his brother's clothes. same jubilee?
Clin. Swear, sir! Zoons, ha'n't I got the Clin. Who, pray?
estate, sir? Come, sir, now I'm in mourning for Dick. The pope.
Clin. The devil he does! My brother go to Err. I hope you'll let me go now, sir? the place where the pope dwells ! He's bewitch Clin. Yes, yes, sir; but you must do me the ed, sure!
favour to swear positively before a magistrate,
that you killed him dead, that I may enter upon Enter Tom ERRAND, in CLINCHER Senior's the estate without any trouble. By Jupiter Am. Cloaths.
mon, all my religion's gone since I put on these Dick. Indeed, I believe he is, for he's strange- fine clothes. -Hey, call me a coach somely altered.
body. Clin. Altered! Why he looks like a jesuit Err. Ay, master, let me go, and I'll call one already.
immediately. Err. This lace will sell. What a blockhead Clin. No, no; Dicky, carry this spark before was the fellow to trust me with his coat! If I a justice, and when he has made oath you may can get cross the garden, down to the water-side, discharge him. And I'H go see Angelica. (EreI am pretty secure.
(Aside. unt Dick. and ERRAND. Now that I'm an elClin. Brother!-Alaw! Oh, gemini! Are you der brother, I'll court, and swear, and rant, and my brother!
rake, and go to the jubilee with the best of them. Dick. I seize you in the king's name, sir.
(Erit. Err. Oh, Lord ! should this prove some parhiament man, now !
SCENE II.-LUREWELL's House, Clin. Speak, you rogue; what are you?
Enter LUREWELL and PARLY. Err. A poor porter, sir, and going of an errand.
Lure. Are you sure that Vizard had my
letDick. What errand ? Speak, you rogue.
ter? Err. A fool's errand, I'm afraid.
Par. Yes, yes, madam; one of your ladyship’s Clin. Who sent you?
footmen gave it to him in the Park, and he told Err. A beau, sir.
the bearer, with all transports of joy, that he Dick. No, no; the rogue has murdered your would be punctual to a minute. brother, and stripped hint of his clothes.
Lure. Thus most villains some time or other