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kind to you.
You do admire her; by the world, you do-don't you done with Belville? (Struggles with MOODY,
to keep him from HARCOURT and ALITHEA. Har. Yes, above the world, or the most glori Moody. Shewn him the way out of my house, ous part of it,-her whole sex; and, till now, I as you should to that gentleman. never thought I should have envied you or any Spark. Nay, pr’ythee- let me reason with thee. man about to marry: but you have the best excuse
(Talks aside with Moody. to marry I ever knew.
Ali. The writings are drawn, sir, settlements Ali. Nay, now, sir, I am satisfied you are of made; 'tis too late, sir, and past all revocation. the society of the wits and railers, since
Har. Then so is my death. not spare your friend, even when he is most civil Ali. I would not be unjust to him. to you; but the surest sign is, you are an enemy Har. Then why to me so? to marriage, the common butt of every railer. Ali. I have no obligations to you.
Har. Truly, madam, I was never an enemy to Har. My love. marriage till now, because marriage was never Ali. I had his before. an enemy to me before.
Hur. You never had it: he wants, you see, Ali. But why, sir, is marriage an enemy to you jealousy, the only infallible sign of it. now ?-because it robs you of your friend here? Ali. Love proceeds from esteem:-he cannot for you look upon a friend married as one gone distrust my virtue: besides, he loves me, or he into a monastery, that is dead to the world.
would not marry me. Har. 'Tis, indeed, because you marry him : I Hur. Marrying you is no more a sign of his see, madam, you can guess my meaning: I do love, than bribing your woman, that he may confess, heartily and openly, I wish it were in my marry you, is a sign of his generosity. But if power to break the match; by Heavens, I would. you take marriage for a sign of love, take it from Spark. Poor Frank !
me immediately. Ali . Would you be so unkind to me?
Ali. No, now you have put a scruple in my Har. No, no, 'tis not because I would be un head: but, in short, sir, to end our dispute, I must
marry him ! my reputation would suffer in the Spark. Poor Frank !_no, 'egad, 'tis only his world else. kindness to me.
Har. No; if you do marry him, with your parAli. Great kindness to you indeed !-Insen- don, madam, your reputation suffers in the world. sible ! Let a man make love to his mistress to Ali. Nay, now you are rude, sir.-Mr Sparkish, his face. [ Aside. pray come hither; your friend here is
very trouble Spark. Come, dear Frank, for all my wife there, some, and very loving. | that shall be, thou shalt enjoy me sometimes, Hur. Hold, hold. (Aside to ALITHEA.
dear rogue.-By my honour, we men of wit con Moody. D’ye hear that, senseless puppy? dole for our deceased brother in marriage as Spark. Why, d'ye think I'll seem jealous, like much as for one dead in earnest.— I think that a country bumpkin? was prettily said of me; ha, Harcourt-But Moody. No, rather be dishonour'd, like a crecome, Frank, be not melancholy for me.
dulous driveller. Har. No, I assure you, I am not melancholy Har. Madam, you would not have been so
little generous as to have told him? Spark. Pr’ythee, Frank, dost think my wife, Ali. Yes, since you could be so little generous that shall be, there, a fine person?
as to wrong
him. Har. I could gaze upon her till I became as Har. Wrong him! no man can do't; he's beblind as you are.
neath an injury; a bubble, a coward, a senseless Spark. How, as I am ? how?
idiot, a wretch so contemptible to all the world Har. Because you are a lover; and true lovers but you, thatare blind.
Ali. Hold, do not rail at him; for since he is Spark. True, true; but, by the world, she has like to be my husband, I am resolved to like him ; wit too, as well as beauty: go, go with her into nay, I think I am obliged to tell him you are not a corner, and try if she has wit ; talk to her any his friendMr Sparkish, Mr Sparkish ! thing; she's bashful before me.
Spark. What, what. Now, dear rogue, has not [HARCOURT courts ALITHEA aside. she wit ?
Har. Not so much as I thought, and hoped she Enter Moody. had.
(Surlily. Moody. How, sir, if you are not concerned for Ali. Mr Sparkish, do you bring people to rail the honour of a wife, I am for that of a sister. at you? Be a pander to your own wife; bring men to her ; Har. Madam! let 'ein make love before your face ; thrust them Spark. How! no; but if he does rail at me, into a corner together, then leave 'em in private! | 'tis but in jest, I warranty--what we wits do for is this your town wit and conduct ?
one another, and never take any notice of it. Spark. Ha, ha, ha! a silly wise rogue would Ali. He spoke so scurrilously of you, I had no make one laugh more than a stark fool : ha, ha, patience to hear him. ha !--I shall burst. Nay, you shall not disturb Moody. And he was in the right on't. 'em :-I'll vex thee, by the world. What have Ali. Besides, he has been making love to me.
Moody. And I told the fool so.
shall never marry the girl, nor get clear of the Har. True, damn'd tell-tale woman. (Aside. smoke and wickedness of this cursed town. Where
Spark. Pshaw! to shew his parts-We wits rail is he? and make love often, but to shew our parts; as Countr. He's below, in a coach, with three we have noaffections, so we have no malice; we other lawyer, counsellor gentlemen.
(Exetint. Moody. Did you ever hear such an ass ?
Ali. He said you were a wretch, below an in SCENE II.-Changes to another Chamber. jury. Spark. Pshaw!
Enter Miss PEGGY and LUCY. Har. Madam!
Lucy. What ails you, Miss Peggy? You are Ali. A common bubble.
grown quite melancholy. Spark. Pshaw!
Peg. Would it not make any one melancholy Ali. A coward.
to see your mistress Alithea go every day flutterSpark. Pshaw ! pslaw !
ing about abroad, to plays and assemblies, and I Ali. A senseless, drivelling idiot.
know not what, whilst I must stay at home, like Moody. True, true, true; all true.
a poor, lonely, sullen bird in a cage? Spark. How! did he disparage my parts? nay, Lucy. Dear Miss Peggy, I thought you chosa then my
honour's concern'd. I cann't put up that, to be confined: I imagined that you had been sir, by the world. —Brother, help me to kill him. bred so young to the cage, that you had no plea
(Offers to draw. sure in Aying about, and hopping in the open air, Ali. Hold! hold !
as other young ladies, who go a little wild about Spark. What? what?
this town. Ali. Hold ! bold !
Peg. Nay, I confess I was quiet enough till Moody. If Harcourt would but kill Sparkish, somebody told me what pure lives the London and run away with my sister, I should be rid of ladies lead, with their dancing meetings, and junthree plagues at once.
ketings, and dress'd every day in their best gowns; Aii. Indeed, to tell the truth, the gentleman and, i warrant you, play at nine-pins every day in said, after all, that what he spoke was but out of the week, so they do. friendship to you.
Lucy. To be sure, miss, you will lead a better Spark. How !
I am a fool: that is not wit, life when join'd in holy wedlock with your sweetout of friendship to me.
temper'd guardian, the cheerful Mr Moody. Ali. Yes, to try whether I was concerned Peg. I cann't lead a worse, that's one good thing enough for you; and made love to me, only to be --but I must inake the best of a bad market; for satisfied of my virtue, for your sake.
I cann't marry nobody else. Hur. Kivd, however!
[ Aside. Lucy. How so! miss ? that's very strange. Spark. Nay, if it were so, my dear rogue, I ask Peg. Why, we have a contraction to one anothee pardon; but why would you not tell me so, ther-so we are as good as married, you know. faith?
Lucy. I know it! Heaven forbid, miss. Har. Because I did not think on't, faith! Peg. Heigho!
Spark. Come, Belville is gone away; Harcourt, Lucy. Don't sigh, Miss Peggy_if that young let's be gobe to the new play-come, madam. gentleman, who was here just now, would take
Ali. I will not go, if you intend to leave me pity on me, I'd throw such a contract as yours alone in the box, and run all about the house, as behind the fire. you use to do.
Peg Lord bless us, how you talk! Spark. Pshaw! I'll leave Harcourt with you in Lucy. Young Mr Belville would make you talk the box, to entertain you, and that's as good: if otherwise, if you knew him. I sat in the box, I should be thought no critic Peg. Mr Belville !-where is he?—when did I must run about, my dear, and abuse the author you see him ?-You have undone me, Lucy
-Come away, Harcourt, lead her down.—B'ye, / Where was he?-Did he say any thing? brother.
Lucy: Say any thing! very little, indeed-he's [Ereunt HARCOURT, SPARKISH, and Ali- quite distracted, poor young creature! he was
talking with your guardian just now. Moody. B'ye, driveller. Well, go thy ways, Peg. The deuce he was !--but where was it, for the flower of the true town fops, such as and when was it? spend their estates before they come to 'em, and Lucy. In this house, five minutes are cuckolds before they're married.-But let me your guardian turn'd you into your chamber, for go look to my freehold.
fear of your being seen. Enter a Countryman.
Peg: I knew something was the matter, I was
in such a flutter. But what did he say to my Countr. Master, your worship’s servant-here Bud? is the lawyer, counsellor gentleman, with a green Lucy. What do you call him Bud for :-Bud bag full of papers, come again, and would be glad means husband, and he is not your husband yet to speak to you
-and I hope never will be; and if he was my husHoody. Now here's some other damn'd impe-band, I'd bud him :-a surly, unreasonable beast. diment, which the law has thrown in our way I Peg. I'd call him any names, to keep him in
good humour: if he'd let me marry any body else, cern'd because a raking fellow chanced to lie, (which I cann't do) I'd call him husband as long and say he liked you :-You'll make me sick too. as he lived. But what said Mr Belville to him? Peg. Of what sickness?
Lucy. I don't know what he said to him, but Moody. O, of that which is worse than the I'll tell you what he said to me, with a sigh, and plague,-jealousy. his hand upon his breast, as he went out of the Peg. Pish! you jeer : I'm sure there's no such door :- If you ever were in love, young gentle disease in your receipt-book at home. woman, (meaning me,) and can pity a most faith Moody. No, thou never met’st with it, poor inful lover, tell the dear object of my affections nocent. Peg. Meaning me, Lucy?
Peg. Well, but pray, Bud, let's go to a play toLucy. Yes, you, to be sure. Tell the dear ob- night. ject of my affections, I live but upon the hopes Moody. No, no ;—no more plays. But why that she is not married; and when those hopes leave are you so eager to see a play? me she knows the rest—then he cast up his Peg. Faith, dear, not that I care one pin for eyes, thus-gnash'd his teeth-struck his fore their talk there; but I like to look upon the head-would have spoke again, but could not, player-men, and would see, if I could, the gallant fetch'd a deep sigh, and vanish’d.
you say loves me: that's all, dear Bud. Peg. That is really very fine-I'm sure it Moody. Is that all, dear Bud? makes my heart sink within me, and brings tears Lucy. This proceeds from my mistress's exinto my eyes-Oh! he's a charming, sweet ample. but hush, hush, I hear my husband !
Peg. Let's go abroad, however, dear Bud, if Lucy. Don't call him husband. Go into the we don't go to the play. Park this evening, if you can.
Moody. Come, have a little patience, and thou Peg. Mum, mum.
shalt go into the country next week. ( Enter Moody.
Peg. Therefore I would see first some sights,
to tell my neighbours of :-nay, I will go abroad; Moody. Come, what's here to do? you are that's once. putting the town pleasures in her head, and set Moody. What! you have put this into her ting her a longing
head ? Lucy. Yes, after nine-pins : you suffer none Lucy. Heaven defend me! what suspicions ! to give her those longings you mean but your somebody has put more things into your head self.
than you ought to have. Moody. Come, Mrs Flippant, good precepts Moody. Your tongue runs too glibly, madam, are lost when bad examples are still before us: and you have lived too long with a London lathe liberty your mistress takes abroad makes her
dy, to be a proper companion for innocence.-I hanker afterit, and out of humour at home:-poor am not over-fond of you, mistress. wretch ! she desired not to come to London ; I Lucy. There's no love lost between us. would bring her.
Moody. You admitted those gentlemen into Lucy. O yes, you surfeit her with pleasures. the house when I said I would not be at home;
Moody. She has been this fortnight in town, and there was the young fellow, too, who behaand never desired, till this afternoon, to go ved so indecently to my wife at the tavern window. abroad.
Lucy. Because you would not let him see your Lucy. Was she not at the play yesterday? handsome wife out of your lodgings.
Moody. Yes; but she never ask'd me : I was Pey. Why, O Lord ! did the gentieman come myself the cause of her going.
hither to see me indeed? Lucy. Then, if she ask you again, you are the Moody. No, no; you are not the cause of that cause of her asking, and not my mistress. damn’d question too.
Moody. Well, next week I shall be rid of you Peg. Come, pray, Bud, let's go abroad before all, rid of this town, and my dreadful apprehen 'tis late; for I will go, that's flat and plain-onsions.-Come, be not melancholy, for thou shalt ly into the Park. go into the country very soon, dearest.
Aloody. So! the obstinacy already of the townPeg. Pish! what d'ye tell me of the country wife; and I must, whilst she's here, humour her for?
Jike one. (Aside.] How shall we do, that she Moody. How's this ! What! flout at the coun
may not be seen or known?
Lucy. Muffle her up with a bonnet and handPeg. Let me alone; I am not well.
kerchief, and I'll go with her, to avoid suspicion. Moody. O, if that be all-What ails my Moody. No, no; I am obliged to you for your dearest
kindness, but she sha'n't stir without me. Peg. Truly, I don't know; but I have not Lucy. What will you do then? been well since you told me there was a gallant Peg. What! shall we go? I am sick with starat the play in love with me.
ing at home: If I don't walk in the Park, I'll do Moody. Ha!
nothing that I'm bid for a week-I won't be Lucy. That's my mistress too.
mop'd. Bloody. Nay, you are not well, but are so con Lucy. O, she has a charming spirit! I coulil
friend now, and would, if you had your chamber, and put 'em on again--and you ever a civil word to give me.
shall walk with me into the Park, as my godson. Moody. I'll give thee a better thing; I'll give -Well thought of, Lucy-I shall love you for thee a guinea for thy good advice, if I like it ;
ever for this. and I can have the best of the college for the Peg. And soshall I too, Lucy.-I'll put 'em on same money:
directly. (Going, returns.] Suppose, Bud, I must Lucy. I despise a bribe—when I am your keep on my petticoats, for fear of shewing my friend, it shall be without fee or reward.
legs? Peg. Don't be long then, for I will go out. Moody. No, no, you fool, never mind your
Lucy. The tailor brought home, last night, the legs. clothes
-This is pure. in the country
[Erit, rejoiced. Peg. You must not tell that, Lucy.
Moody. What a simpleton it is! Well, Lucy, Lucy. But I will, madam-When you were I thank you for the thought, and before I leave with your lawyers last night, Miss Peggy, to di- London, thou shalt be convinced how much I am vert me and herself, put 'em on, and they fitted obliged to thee.
[Exit, smiling her to a hair.
Lucy. And before you leave London, Mr Moody. Thank
you, Lucy; 'tis the | Moody, I hope I shall convince you how much luckiest thought ! Go, this moment, Peggy, into | you are obliged to me.
Har. But I can tho', thanks to my wit, and his
want of it. Enier BELVILLE and HARCOURT.
Belo. But you cannot come near his mistress Belo. And the moment Moody left me, I took
but in his company. an opportunity of conveying some tender senti Har. Still the better for me, nephew; for fools ments, thro' Lucy, to Miss Peggy, and here I am are most easily cheated when they themselves in expectation of seeing my country goddess.
are accessaries; and he is to be bubbled of his misHar. And so, to blind Moody, and take him tress, or of his money, (the common mistress,) by off the scent of your passion for this girl, and, at
keeping him company. the same time, to give me an opportunity with Sparkish's mistress, (and of which I have made
Enter SPARKISH. the most,) you hinted to him, with a grave, melan Spark. Who's that that is to be bubbled? choly face, that you were dying for his sister faith, let me snack: I ha’n’t met with a bubble Gad-a-mercy, nephew! I will back thy modesty since Christmas. 'Gad! I think bubbles are like against any other in the three kingdoms-It will their brother woodcocks,-go out with the cold do, Dick.
weather. Belv. What could I do, uncle?- It was my last Har. O, pox ! he did not hear all, I hope. stake, and I played for a great deal.
[Aside to BELVILLE. Hur. You mistake me, Dick -I don't Spark. Come, you bubbling rogues you, where say you could do better-I only cann't account do we sup?-0, Harcourt ! my mistress tells me for your modesty's doing so much : you have you have made love, fierce love to her last night, done such wonders, that I, who am rather bold all the play long; ha, ha, ha!-but I than sheepish, have not yet ceased wondering at Har. I make love to her! you. But do
Spark. Nay, I forgive thee, and I know her ; him?
but I am sure I know myself. Belo. Faith, I cann't say -I am rather doubt
Belv. Do you, sir? Then you are the wisest ful!-he said very little, grumbled much, shook man in the world, and I honour you as such. his head, and shewed me the door.—But what success have you had with Alithea ?
Spark. O! your servant, sir; you are at your railHar. Just enough to have a glimmering of iery, are you? You cann't oblige me more-Im hope, without having light enough to see an inch your man-He'll meet with his match-Ha! before my nose. -This day will produce some Harcourt !–Did not you hear me laugh prodigithing: Alithea is a woman of great honour, and ously at the play last night? will sacrifice her happiness to it, unless Spark Har. Yes, and was very much disturbed at it. ish's absurdity stands my friend, and does every - You put the actors and audience into confuthing that the fates ought to do for me.
sion-and all your friends out of countenance. Belv. Yonder comes the prince of coxcombs; Spark. So much the better I love confusion and if your mistress and mine should, hy clance, and to see folks out of countenance-I was in be tripping this way, this fellow will spoil sport tip-top spirits, faith, and said a thousand good
let us avoid him- you cann't cheat him be things. fore his face,
Bilo. But I thought you had gone to plays to
laugh at the poet's good things, and not at your Spark. The devil she is !-O! hide, hide me
(Hides behind HARCOURT. Spark. Your servant, sir!—No, I thank you. Har. She sees you. 'Gad! I go to a play as to a country treat: I Spark. But I will not see her ; for I'm engacarry my own wine to one, and my own wit to ged, and at this instant. (Looking at his watch. t'other, or else l'ın sure I should not be merry at Hur. Pray, first take me, and reconcile me to either: and the reason why we are so often loud-her. er than the players is, because we hate authors Spark. Another time: faith, it is to a lady, damnably.
and one cannot make excuses to a woman. Belv. But why should you hate the poor rogues? Belv. You have need of 'em, I believe. You have too much wit, and despise writing, I'm Spark. Pshaw ! prythee hide me.
Spark. O yes, I despise writing. But women, Enter Moody, Peggy, in boy's clothes, and women, that make men do all foolish things,
ALITHEA. make 'em write songs too. Every body does it:
Har. Your servant, Mr Moody. 'tis e'en as common with lovers as playing with
Moody. Come along.
[To PEGGY. fans; and you can no more help rhyming to your Phyllis, than drinking to your Phyllis.
Peg. Lau!—What a sweet, delightful place
this is ! blar. But the poets damn'd your songs, did
Moody. Come along, I say -don't stare about they?
-you'll betray yourself. Spark. O yes :--Damn the poets; they turn'd them into burlesque, as they call it: that burlesque | [Exit Moody, pulling Peggy, Alithea fol
lowing. is a hocus-pocus trick they have got, which, by
Har. He does not know us. the virtue of hictius doctius, topsy-turvy, they Belo. Or he won't know us. make a clever, witty thing absolute nonsense! Do
Spurk. So much the better. you know, Harcourt, that they ridiculed my last
[Exit BELVILLE after them. song, tuang, twang, the best I ever wrote ?
Hur. Who is that pretty youth with him, SparkHar. That may be, and be very easy ridiculed,
ish ? for all that.
Spark. Some relation of Peggy's, I suppose; Belt. Favour me with it, sir; I never heard it. Spark. What! and have all the Park about us?
for he is something like her in the face and gay
kiness. Har. Which you'll not dislike; and so, pr’ythee, begin.
Re-enler BELVILLE. Spark. I never am ask'd twice; and
Belo. By all my hopes, uncle-Peggy, in boy's clothes
over agitation. (Aside to HAR. SONG.
Har. Be quiet, or you'll spoil all. They re
turnTell not me of the roses and lilies
-Alithea has seen you, Sparkisk, and Which tinge the fair cheek of your Phyllis ;
will be angry if you don't go to her: besides, I
would fain be reconciled to her, which none but Tell not me of the dimples und eyes, For which silly Corydon dies.
you can do, my dear friend. Let all whining lovers go hang
Spark. Well, that's better reason, dear friend. My heart would you hit,
I would not go near her now for hers or my own Tip
sake; but I can deny you nothing; for tho' I your arrow with wit,
have known thee a great while, never go, if I do And it comes to my heart with a twang, twang,
not love thee as well as a new acquaintance. And it comes to my heart with a twang.
Har. I am obliged to you, indeed, my dear I am rock to the handsome and pretty,
friend: I would be well with her, only to be
well with thee still; for these ties to wives usu. Can only be touch'd by the witty; And beuuty will ogle in vain,-
ally dissolve all ties to friends. The
Spark. But they sha'n't, tho'.
-Come along. my Let all whining lovers go hang
(They relire. We wits, you must know, Have two strings to our bow,
Re-enter MOODY, PEGGY, and ALITHEA. To return them their darts with a twang, twang, Moody. Sister, if you will not go, we must And return them their darts with a twang. leave you. (To ALITHEA.)-The fool her gal
lant and she will muster up all the young saunAt the end of the song, HARCOURT and Bel- terers of this place. What a swarm of cuckolds
VILLE steal away from SPARKISH, and leave and cuckold-makers are here! I begin to be unhim singing He sinks his voice by degrees, easy. (Aside.) Come, let's be gone, Peggy. at the surprise of their being gone : then, Pey, Don't you believe that: I ha’n’t half my Enter HARCOURT and BELVILLE.
bellyful of the sights yet. Spark. What the deuce did you go away for?
Moody. Then walk this way.
Peg. Lord! what a power of fine folks are here; úar. Your mistress is coming.
and Mr Belville, as I hope to be married! (Aside.