Par. Who could have thought that a man of his light airy temper would have been so revengeful? Dick. Why, faith, I'm a little malicious too: where's the buss you promised me, you jade? Par. Follow me, you rogue. Runs off. Dick. Allons. [Follows, SCENE I.-A Lady's Apartment. Enter two Chambermaids. ACT II. 1st Cham. Are all things set in order? The toilette fixed, the bottles and combs put in form, and the chocolate ready? 2d Cham. 'Tis no great matter whether they be right or not; for right or wrong we shall be sure of our lecture: I wish for my part that my time were out. 1st Cham. Nay, 'tis a hundred to one but we may run away before our time be half expired; and she's worse this morning than ever.- Here she comes. Enter Lady LUREWELL. Lure. Ay, there's a couple of you indeed! But how, how, in the name of negligence, could you two contrive to make a bed as mine was last night; a wrinkle on one side, and a rumple on t'other; the pillows awry, and the quilt askew.I did nothing but tumble about, and fence with the sheets all night along.-Oh!- -my bones ache this morning, as if I had lain all night on a pair of Dutch stairs- -Go, bring chocolate.And, d'ye bear? Be sure to stay an hour or two at least- -Well, these English animals are so unpolished! I wish the persecution would rage a little harder, that we might have more of these French refugees among us. Enter the Maids with Chocolate. These wenches are gone to Smyrna for this chocolate. And what made you stay so long? Cham. I thought we did not stay at all, madam. Lure. Only an hour and half by the slowest clock in Christendom--And such salvers and dishes too! The lard be merciful to me! What have I committed to be plagued with such animals?----Where are my new japan salvers?Broke, o'my conscience! All to pieces, I'll lay my life on't. Cham. No, indeed, madam, but your husband Lure. How? husband, impudence! I'll teach you manners. [Gives her a box on the ear.] Husband! Is that your Welsh breeding? Ha'n't the colonel a name of his own? Cham. Well then, the colonel. He used them this morning, and we ha'n't got them since. Lure. How! the colonel use my things! How dare the colonel use any thing of mine?---But his campaign education must be pardoned And I warrant they were fisted about among his dirty levee of disbanded officers!--Faugh! the very thoughts of them fellows, with their eager looks, iron swords, tied-up wigs, and tucked-in cravats, make me sick as death.--Come, let me see.-— -[Goes to take the chocolate, and starts back.] Heaven protect me from such a sight! Lord, girl! When did you wash your hands last? And have you been pawing me all this morning with them dirty fists of yours? [Runs to the glass.] -I must dress all over again--Go, take it away, I shall swoon else.- -Here, Mrs Monster, call up my taylor; and d'ye hear! You, Mrs Hobbyhorse, see if my company be come to cards yet. Enter Taylor. Oh, Mr Remnant! I don't know what ails these stays you have made me; but something is the matter, I don't like them. Rem. I am very sorry for that, madam. But what fault does your ladyship find? Lure. I don't know where the fault lies; but, in short, I don't like them; I can't tell how; the things are well enough made, but I don't like them. Rem. Are they too wide, madam? Rem. Too straight, perhaps? Lure. Not at all! they fit me very well; but, -lard bless me! can't you tell where the fault lies? Rem. Why, truly, madam, I cann't tell.-But your ladyship, I think, is a little too slender for the fashion. Lure. How! too slender for the fashion, say you? Rem. Yes, madam, there's no such thing as a good shape worn among the quality; your fine waists are clear out, madam. Lure. And why did not you plump up my stays to the fashionable size? Rem. I made them to fit you, madam. Lure. Fit me! fit my monkey-What, d'ye think I wear clothes to please myself! Fit me! fit the fashion, pray; no matter for me-I thought something was the matter; I wanted quality-air.-Pray, Mr Remnant, let me have a bulk of quality, a spreading counter. I do remember now, the ladies in the apartments, the birth-night, were most of them two yards about. Indeed, sir, if you contrive my things any more with your scanty chambermaid's air, you shall work no more for me. Rem. I shall take care to please your ladyship for the future. [Exit, Enter Servant. Serv. Madam, my master desiresLure. Hold, hold, fellow; for Gad's sake hold: if thou touch my clothes with that tobacco breath of thine, I shall poison the whole drawing-room. Stand at the door, pray, and speak. [Servant goes to the door and speaks. Serv. My master, madam, desires Lure. Oh, hideous! Now the rascal bellows so loud, that he tears my head to pieces.-Here, aukwardness, go take the booby's message, and bring it to me. [Maid goes to the door, whispers, and returns. Cham. My master desires to know how your ladyship rested last night, and if you are pleased to admit of a visit this morning. Lure. Ay-Why, this is civil'Tis an insupportable toil, though, for women of quality to model their husbands to good breeding. Enter STANDARD. Stand. Good-morrow, dearest angel. have you rested last night? How Lure. Lard, lard, colonel! What a room have you made me here with your dirty feet! Bless me, sir! will you never be reclaimed from your slovenly campaign airs? 'tis the most unmannerly thing in nature to make a sliding bow in a lady's chamber with dirty shoes; it writes rudeness upon the boards. Stand. A very odd kind of reception this, truly!-I'm very sorry, madam, that the offences of my feet should create an aversion to my company; but for the future I shall honour your ladyship's apartment as the sepulchre at Jerusalem, and always come in barefoot. Lure. Sepulchre at Jerusalem! Your compliment, sir, is very far fetched: but your feet indeed have a very travelling air, Stand. Come, come, my dear, no serious disputes upon trifles, since you know I never contend with you in matters of consequence. You are still mistress of your fortune, and marriage has only made you more absolute in your pleasure, by adding one faithful servant to your desires.-Come, clear your brow of that uneasy chagrin, and let that pleasing air take place that first ensnared my heart. I have invited some gentlemen to dinner, whose friendships deserve a welcome look. Let their entertainment show how blessed you have made me by a plentiful fortune, and the love of so agreeable a creature. Lure. Your friends, I suppose, are all men of quality? Stand. Madam, they are officers, and men of honour. Lure. Officers, and men of honour! That is, they will daub the stairs with their feet, stain all the rooms with their wine, talk bawdy to my woman, rail at the parliament, then at one another, fall to cutting of throats, and break all my china. Stand. Admitting that I keep such company, ?tis unkind in you, madam, to talk so severely of my friends. But, my brother, my dear, is just come from his voyage, and will be here to pay his respects to you. Lure. Sir, I shall not be at leisure to entertain a person of his Wapping education, I can assure you. PARLY enters, and whispers her. Sir, I have some business with my woman; you may entertain your sea-monster by yourself; you may command a dish of pork and pease, with a bowl of punch, I suppose; and so, sir, much good may do you-Come, Parly. [Exeunt LURE. and PAR. Stand. Hell and furies! Enter FIREBALL. Fire. With all my heart-Where's your wife, brother?- -Ho! now, man, what's the matter? -Is dinner ready? Stand. No I don't know-Hang it, I'm sorry that 1 invited you ;- -for you must know that my wife is very much out of order; taken dangerously ill of a sudden- -So that I Fire. Pshaw! Nothing, nothing but a marriage qualm; breeding children or breeding mischief. Where is she, man? Pr'ythee let me see her; long to see this fine lady you have got. Stand. Upon my word she's very ill, and cann't see any body. Fire. So ill that she cann't see any body! What, she's not in labour sure! I tell you, I will see her. Where is she? [Looking about. Stand. No, no, brother; she's gone abroad to take the air. Fire. What the devil! dangerous sick, and gone out! So sick, that she'll see no body within, yet gone abroad to see all the world!--Ah, you have made your fortunes with a vengeance! -Then, brother, you shall dine with me at Locket's; I hate these family dinners, where a man's obliged to, Oh, lard, madam; no apology, dear sir.- 'Tis very good indeed, madai. For yourself, dear madam.--Where, between the rubbed floor under-foot, the china in one corner, and the glasses in another, a man cann't make two strides without hazard of his life. Commend me to a boy and a bell; coming, coming, sir: much noise, no attendance, and a dirty room, where I may eat like a horse, drink like a fish, and swear like a devil. Hang your family dinners! come along with me. As they are going out, BANTER enters; who secing them, seems to retire. Stand. Who's that? Come in, sir. Your business, pray, sir? Ban. Perhaps, sir, it may not be so proper to inform you; for you appear to be as great a stranger here as myself. Fire. Come, come away, brother, he has some business with your wife. Ban. His wife! Gad so! A pretty fellow, a very pretty fellow, a likely fellow, and a handsome fellow; I find nothing like a monster about him: Stand. Yours, sir.- -But why d'ye stare so in my face? Ban. I was told, sir, that the lady Lurewell's husband had something very remarkable over his eyes, by which he might be known. Fire. Mark that, brother. [In his ear. Stand. Your information, sir, was right; I have a cross cut over my left eye that's very remarkable. But, pray, sir, by what marks are you to be known? Ban. Sir, I am dignified and distinguished by the name and title of Beau Banter; I'm younger brother to Sir Harry Wildair; and I hope to inherit his estate with his humour; for his wife, I'm told, is dead, and has left no child. Stand. I hope, sir, you'll excuse the freedom of this gentleman; his education has been among the boisterous elements, the winds and waves. Ban. Sir, I value neither him nor his wind and waves neither; I am privileged to be very impertinent, being an Oxonian, and obliged to fight no man, being a beau. Stand. Sir, I admire the freedom of your condition. But pray, sir, have you seen your brother since he came last over? Ban. I han't seen my brother these seven years, and scarcely heard from him but by report of others. About a month ago he was pleased to honour me with a letter from Paris, importing Stand. Oh, sir! I'm your very humble servant: his design of being in London very soon, with a you're not unlike your brother in the face; but desire of meeting me here. Upon this, I chanmethinks, sir, you don't become his humour alto-ged my cap and gown for a long wig and sword, gether so well; for what's nature in him looks like affectation in you. Ban. Oh, lard, sir! 'tis rather nature in me, what is acquired by him; he's beholden to his education for his air. Now, where d'ye think my humour was established? Stand. Where? Stand, and Fire. At Oxford ! Ban. Ay: there I have been sucking my dear Alma Mater these seven years: yet, in defiance to legs of mutton, small beer, crabbed books, and sour-faced doctors, I can dance a minuet, court a mistress, play at piquet, or make a paroli, with any Wildair in Christendom. In short, sir, in spite of the university, I'm a pretty gentleman.— Colonel, where's your wife?" Fire. [Mimicking him.] In spite of the university, I'm a pretty gentleman-Then, colonel, where is your wife?-Hark ye, young Plato, whether would you have your nose slit, or your ears cut? Ban. First tell me, sir, which would you choose, to be run through the body, or shot through the head? Fire. Follow me, and I'll tell ye. came up to London to attend him, and went to his house; but that was all in sable for the death of his wife; there I was told that he designed to change his habitation, because he would avoid all remembrances that might disturb his quiet. You are the first person that has told me of his arrival, and I expect that you may likewise inform me where to wait on him. Stand. And I suppose, sir, this was the business that occasioned me the honour of this visit. Ban. Partly this, and partly an affair of greater consequence. You must know, sir, that though I have read ten thousand lies in the university, yet I have learned to speak the truth myself; and, to deal plainly with you, the honour of this visit, as you were pleased to term it, was designed to the lady Lurewell. Stand. My wife, sir! Ban. My lady Lurewell, I say, sir. Stand. But I say my wife, sir.- -What! Ban. Why, look ye, sir; you may have the honour of being called the lady Lurewell's husband; but you will never find in any author, either ancient or modern, that she's called Mr Standard's wife. 'Tis true, you're a handsome young fellow; she liked you, she married you; Ban. Sir, my servants shall attend ye, if you and though the priest made you both one flesh, have no equipage of your own. Fire. Blood, sir! Stand. Hold, brother, hold; he's a boy. Ban. Look ye, sir; I keep half a dozen footmen, that have no business upon earth but to answer impertinent questions. Now, sir, if your fighting stomach can digest these six brawny fellows for a breakfast, their master, perhaps, may do you the favour to run you through the body for a din ner. Fire. Sirrah, will you fight me? I received just now six month's pay, and by this light, I'll give you the half on't for one fair blow at your skull. Ban. Down with your money, sir. Stand. No, no, brother; if you are so free of your pay, get into the next room; there you'll find some company at cards, I suppose; you may yet there's no small distinction in your blood. You are still a disbanded colonel, and she is still a woman of quality, I take it. Stand. And you are the most impudent young fellow I ever met with in my life, I take it. Ban. Sir, I'm a master of arts, and I plead the privilege of my standing. A Servant enters, and whispers Banter. Serv. Sir, the gentleman in the coach below says, he'll be gone unless you come presently. Ban. I had forgot-Colonel, your humble [Exit. servant. Stand. Sir, you must excuse me for not waiting on you down stairs.An impudent young dog! [Exit another way. Lure. Ruined! undone! destroyed! 1st La. Oh, fortune! fortune! fortune! 2d La. What will my husband say? Mons. Oh, malheur ! malheur ! malheur ! Fire. Blood and fire, I have lost six months pay. Mons. A hundred and ten pistoles, sink me. Fire. Sink you! sink me, that have lost two hundred and ten pistoles.- -Sink you, indeed! Lure. But why would you hazard the bank upon one card? Mons. Because me had lose by de card tree times before.-Look dere, madame, de very next card had been out. Oh, Morbleu ! qui să? Lure. I relied altogether on your setting the cards; you used to taillee with success. Mons. Morbleu, madame, me never lose before: but dat Monsieur Sir Arry, dat Chevalier Wildair, is the devil-Vere is the de Chevalier? Lure. Counting our money within yonder. Go, go, be gone; and bethink yourself of some revenge. Here he comes. Enter WILDAIR. the world. [Puts it in his mouth.] Down it goes, i'faith.Allons for the Thatched House and the Mediterranean.-Tall dall de rall. [Erit. Wild. Ha, ha, ha!-Bravely resolved, captain. Lure. Bless me, Sir Harry! I was afraid of a quarrel. I'm so much concerned ! Wild. At the loss of your money, madam. But why, why should the fair be afflicted? Your eyes, your eyes, ladies, much brighter than the sun, have equal power with him, and can transform to gold whate'er they please. The lawyer's tongue, the soldier's sword, the courtier's flattery, and the merchant's trade, are slaves that dig the golden mines for you. Your eyes untie the miser's knotted purse; [To one lady] melt into coin the magistrate's massy chain.-Youth mints for you hereditary lands. [To another.] And gamesters only win when they can lose to you. [To LUREWELL.-This luck is the most rhetorical thing in nature. Lure. I have a great mind to forswear cards as long as I live. 1st La. And I. [Crying, and Exit. Wild. What, forswear cards! Why, madam, you'll ruin our trade.-I'll maintain, that the money at courts circulates more by the bassetbank, than the wealth of the merchants by the bank of the city. Cards! the great ministers of fortune's power, that blindly shuffle out her thoughtless favours, and make a knave more powerful than a king- -What adoration do these powers receive [Lifting up a card] from the bright hands and fingers of the fair, always lift up to pay devotion here! And the pleasing fears, the anxious hopes, and dubious joy that entertain our mind! The capot at piquet, the paroli at basset;-and then ombre! who can resist the charms of mattadors ? Lure. Ay, Sir Harry; and then the sept le va, quinze la va, et trente le va. Wild. Right, right, madam. Lure. Then the nine of diamonds at comet, three fives at cribbage, and pam in lanteraloo, Sir Harry! Wild. Fifteen hundred and seventy louis d'ors! -Tall dall de rall. [Sings.] Look ye, gentlemen, any body may dance to this tune;-Tall dall de rall. I dance to the tune of fifteen hundred pounds, the most elevated piece of music that ever I heard in my life; they are the prettiest castagnets in the world. [Chinks the money.] Here, waiters, there's cards and candles for you. [Gives the servants money.] Mrs Parly-here's hoods and scarfs for you: [Gives her money]; and here's fine coaches, splendid equipage, lovely women, and victorious Burgundy for me.-Oh, ye charming angels! the loser's sorrow, and the gainer's joy; get you into my pocket.-Now, gentlemen and ladies, I am your humble servant --You'll excuse me, I hope, the small devotion here that I pay to my good fortune--Ho, now! Mute!-Why, ladies, I know that losers have leave to speak; but I don't find that they're privileged to be dumb.-Monsieur! Ladies! Cap-never have produced. [Claps the captain on the shoulder. Fire. Death and hell! Why d'ye strike me, sir? [Drawing. -Your ear, cap tain! Wild. To comfort you, sir.tain. The king of Spain is dead. Fire. The king of Spain dead! Wild. Dead as Julius Cæsar; I had a letter on't just now. Fire. Tall dall de rall. [Sings.] Look ye, sir, pray strike me again, if you please.-See here, sir, you have left me but one solitary guinea in Wild. Ay, madam, these are charms indeed. Then the pleasure of picking our husband's pocket over-night, to play at basset next day! Then the advantage a fine gentleman may make of a lady's necessity, by gaining a favour for fifty pistoles, which a hundred years courtship could Lure. Nay, nay, Sir Harry, that's foul play. Wild. Nay, nay, madam, it is nothing but the game; and I have played it so in France a hun dred times. Lure. Come, come, sir, no more on't. I'll tell you in three words, that rather than forego my cards, I'll forswear my visits, fashions, my monkey, friends and relations. Wild. There spoke the spirit of true-born English women of quality, with a true French education. Lure. What, the singing birds! Sir Harry, let me see. new way of making love. Please to peruse it, and give me your opinion in the evening. [Exit. Lure. [Opening the book.] A French pocket. book, with remarks upon the new way of making love! Then Sir Harry is turning author, I find. What's here?-Hi, hi, hi! A bank bill for a hundred pounds. The new way of making love! Wild. Pugh, madam, these are but a few.But I could wish, de tout mon cœur, for quelque-Pardie c'est fort gallant-One of the prettiest commodité, where I might be handsomely plundered of them. Lure. Ah, Chevalier! toujours obligeant, engageant, et tout sa. Wild. Allons, allons, madame, tout a votre service. [Pulls her. Lure. No, no, Sir Harry, not at this time o' day; you shall hear from me in the evening. Wild. Then, madam, I'll leave you something to entertain you the while. 'Tis a French pocketbook, with some remarks of my own upon the SCENE I. remarks that ever I saw in my life! Well now, that Wildair's a charming fellow-Hi, hi, hi! He has such an air, and such a turn in what he does!--I warrant now there's a hundred home-bred blockheads would come-madam, I'l give you a hundred guineas if you'll let me— Faugh! hang their nauseous immodest proceedings. Here's a hundred pounds now, and he never names the thing: I love an impudent action with an air of modesty with all my heart. [Exeunt. ACT III. Lady LUREWELL and Monsieur MARQUIS. Lure. Well, monsieur, and have you thought how to retaliate your ill fortune? Mons. Madame, I have tought dat fortune be one blind bitch. Why should fortune be kinder to de Anglis Chevalier dan to de France Marquis? Ave I not de bon grace? Ave not I de personage? Ave I not de understanding? Can de Anglis Chevalier dance better dan I? Can de Anglis Chevalier fence better dan I? Can de Anglis Chevalier play basset better dan I? Den why should fortune be kinder to de Anglis Chevalier dan de France Marquis? Lure. Why? Because fortune is blind. Mons. Blind! Yes begar, and dum and deaf too. Vell den, fortune give de Anglis man de riches, but nature gave de France man de politique to correct de unequal distribution. Lure. But how can you correct it, monsieur? Mons. Ecoutez, madame. Sir Arry Wildair his vife be dead. Lure. And what advantage can you make of that? Mons. Begar, madame-Hi, hi, hi!-De Anglis man's dead vife sall cuckold her usband! Lure. How, how, sir, a dead woman cuckold her husband! Mons. Mark! madame: we France-men make de distinction between de design and de term of de treaty. She cannot touch his head, but she can cuckold his pocket of ten tousan livres. Lure. Pray explain yourself, sir. Mons. I ave Sir Arry Wildair his vife in my pocket. Lure. How! Sir Harry's wife in your pocket! Mons. Hold, madame; dere is an autre distinction between de design and de term of de treaty Lure. Pray, sir, no more of your distinctions, but speak plain. Mons. Wen de France-man's politique is in his head, dere is nothing but distinction upon his tongue. See here, madame! I ave de picture of Sir Harry's vife in my pocket. Lure. Is it possible? Mons. Voyez. Lure. The very same, and finely drawn. Pray, monsieur, how did you purchase it? Mons. As me did purchase de picture, so me did gain the substance, de dear, dear substance, by de bon mien, de France, air, chatant, charmant, de polique à la tête, and dançant à la pie. Lure. Lard bless me! How cunningly some women can play the rogue! Ah, have I found it out! Now, as I hope for mercy, I am glad on't. I hate to have any woman more virtuous than myself. -Here was such a work with my lady Wildair's piety! my lady Wildair's conduct! and my lady Wildair's fidelity, forsooth! Now, dear monsieur, you have infallibly told me the best news that I ever heard in my life. Well, and she was but one of us! heh! Mons. Oh, madame; me no tell tale, me no scandalize de dead; de picture be dumb, de picture say noting. Lure. Come, come, sir, no more distinctions; I'm sure it was so. I would have given the world for such a story of her while she was living. She was charitable, forsooth! and she was devout, forsooth! and every body was twitted i'th' teeth with my lady Wildair's reputation and why don't you mark her behaviour, and her discretion? she goes to church twice a-day.-Ah, I hate these |