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Ver, Receive it you then.
Fid. Oh Heavens! is there Serv. He says he must have your receipt for
(They thrust her in, and lock the door. it: he is in haste, for I hear him coming up, sir. Ver. Stay there, my prisoner; you have a short
Ver. Damn him! Help me in here then with reprieve. this dishonourer of my family.
I'll fetch the gold, and that she cann't resist; Fid. Oh! oh!
For with a full hand 'tis we ravish best. Serv. You say she is a woman, sir.
(Exeunt. Ver. No matter, sir; must you prate?
SCENE I...Eliza's Lodgings.
Olio. O, sir, forgive me.
Ver. Yes, yes, I can forgive you, being alone Enter OLIVIA and ELIZA.
in the dark with a woman in man's cloaths; but Oliv. Ah, cousin, nothing troubles me, but have a care of man in women's cloaths. that I have given the malicious world its revenge,
Oliv. What does he mean? he dissembles, and reason now to talk as freely of me as I used only to get me into his power; or has my dear to do of it.
friend made him believe he was a woman? My Eliz. Faith, then let not that trouble you; for, husband may be deceived by him, but I'm sure to be plain, cousin, the world cannot talk worse
I was not.
(Aside. of you than it did before.
Ver. Come, come, you need not have lain out Oliv. How, cousin ? I'd have you to know, be- of your house for this; but perhaps you were fore this faux pas, this trip of mine, the world afraid, when I was warm with suspicions, you could not talk of me.
must have discovered who she was: And proyEliz. Only that you mind other people's ac- thee, may I not know it? tions so much, that you take no care of your
Olio. She was !--I hope he has been deceived : own, but to hide 'em; that, like a thief, because and, since my lover has played the eard, I must you know yourself most guilty, you impeach your
(Aside. fellow-criminals first, to clear yourself.
Ver. Come, what's the matter with thee? It Olio. O wicked world !
I must not know who she is, I'm satisfied withEliz. That you pretend an aversion to all man- out. Come hither. kind in public, only that their wives and mis- Oliv. Sure you do know her; she has told you tresses may not be jealous, and hinder you of herself, I suppose. their conversation in private.
Ver. No, I might have known her better, but Olit. Base world !
that I was interrupted by the goldsmith, you know, Eliz. That abroad you fasten quarrels upon and was forced to lock her into your chamber, innocent men, for talking of you, only to bring to keep her from his sight; but, when I return. them to ask you pardon at home, and to become ed, I found she was got away, by tying the windear friends with them, 'who were hardly your dow-curtains to the balcony, by which she slid acquaintance before.
down into the street: for, you must know, I Olio. Abominable world !
jested with her, and made her believe I'd ravish Eliz. That you condemn the obscenity of mo
her; which she apprehended, it seems, in eardern plays, only that you may not be censured for never missing the most obscene of the old Olio. Then she got from you?
Ver. Yes. Olio. Damned world!
Oliv. And is quite gone? Eliz. That you deface the nudities of pictures
Ver. Yes. and little statues, only because they are not real.
Oliv. I'm glad on't-otherwise you had raOlio. O, fie, fie, fie! hideous, hideous, cousin! vished her, sir
. But how darest thou go so far, the obscenity of their censures makes me blush. as to make her believe you would ravish her ?
Eliz. The truth of them, the naughty world Let me understand that, sir. What! there's would say now.
guilt in your face; you blush too: nay, then you
did ravish her, you did, you base fellow. What, Enter LETTICE hastily.
ravish a woman in the first month of her marLet. O! madam, here is that gentleman co- riage! 'Tis a double injury to me, thou base unming up, who now, you say, is my master. grateful man; wrong my bed already, villain! I
Oliv. O, cousin, whither shall I run ? protect could tear out those false eyes, barbarous, unme, or
Ver. Pr’ythee hear, my dear.
Olio. I will never hear you, my plague, my Ver. Nay, nay, come
Ver. I swear-prythee hear me.
man ? Besides, were you not afraid to see your Oliv. I have heard already too many of your husband just now? Í warrant, only for having false oaths and vows, especially your last in the been found with a woman? nay, did you not just church. O wicked man! And wretched woman now too own your false step, or trip, as you call'd that I was ! I wish I had then sunk down into a it? which was with a woman too ! Fie, this foolgrave, rather than to have given you my hand, ing is so insipid, 'tis offensive. to be led to your loathsome bed. Oh-oh- Olio. And fooling with my honour will be more
[Seems to weep. offensive. Did you not hear my husband say, he Ver. So; very fine ! just a marriage-quarrel ! found me with a woman in man's clothes : And which, though it generally begins by the wife's d'ye think he does not know a man from a wofault, yet, in the conclusion, it becomes the hus- man? band's; and whosoever offends at first, he only Eliz. Not so well, I'm sure, as you do ; thereis sure to ask pardon at last. My dear- fore I'd rather take your word. Oliv. My devil
Oliv. What, you grow scurrilous, and are, I find, Ver. Come, pr’ythee be appeased, and go more censorious than the world! I must have a home ; I have bespoken our supper betimes ; for care of you, I see. I could not eat till I found you. Go, I'll give Eliz. No, you need not fear yet—I'll keep your you all kind of satisfactions; and one which uses secret. to be a reconcilíng one, two hundred of those Olio. My secret! I'd have you to know, I have guineas I received last night, to do what you will no need of confidantes, though you value yourself with.
upon being a good one. Oliv. What, would you pay me for being your Eliz. O admirable confidence ! you show more bawd?
in denying your wickedness than other people in Ver. Nay, pr’ythee no more; go and I'll tho- glorying in't. roughly satisfy you when I come home; and then, Oliv. Confidence to me! to me such language! too, we will have a fit of laughter at Manly, whom nay, then I'll never see your face again. I'll quarI am going to find at the Cock in Bow-street, where rel with her, that people may never believe I was I hear he dined. Go, dearest, go home. in her power; but take for malice all the truth she
Eliz. A very pretty turn, indeed, this! (Aside. may speak against me. (Aside.) Lettice, where
Ver. Now, cousin, since by my wife I have that are you? let us be gone from this censorious ill honour and privilege of calling you so, I have something to beg of you too; which is, not to Eliz. Nay, thou shalt stay a little, to damn thytake notice of our marriage to any whatever, yet self quite. (Aside.] One word first : Pray, madam, a while, for some reasons very important to me: can you swear that
your husband and next, that you will do my wife the honour found with youto go home with her, and me the favour, to use Olio. Swear! ay, that whosoever 'twas that that power you have with her in our reconcile- stole up, unknown, into my room, when 'twas ment:
dark, I know not whether man or woman, by Eliz. That I dare promise, sir, will be no hard heavens, by all that's good; or, may I never more matter. Your servant. [Exit Vernish. Well, have joys here, or in the other world : nay, may cousin, this I confess was seasonable hypocrisy; I eternallyyou were the better fort.
Eliz. Be damn'd. So, so, you are damn’d Oliv. What hypocrisy ?
enough already by your oaths: and I enough conEliz . Why, this last deceit of your husband firm’d; and now you may please to be gone.
Yet was lawful, since in your own defence,
take this advice with you, in this plain-dealing Oliv. What deceit? I'd have you to know, I age, to leave off forswearing yourself ; for, when never deceived my husband.
people hardly think the better of a woman for her Eliz. You do not understand me, sure; I say, real modesty, why should you put that great conthis was an honest come-off, and a good one: straint upon yourself to feign it? but 'twas a sign your gallant had had enough of Oliv. O hideous ! hideous advice! Let us go your conversation, since he could so dexterously out of the hearing of it. She will spoil us, Lettice; cheat your husband in passing for a woman. (Ereunt Oliv. and LET. at one door, and Oliv. What d’ye mean? once more with my
Eliz. at the other. gallant, and passing for a woman!
Eliz. What do you mean ! you see your hus- The Scene changes to the Cock in Bure-Street. A band took him for a womar..
table and bottles. Oliv. Whom? Eliz. Hey-day! why, the man he found you
MANLY and FIDELIA. with, for whom last night you were so much afraid, Man. How! saved her honour, by making her and who, you told me
husband believe you were a woman! 'Twas well, Olio. Lord, you rave sure !
but hard enough to do, sure. Eliz. Why, did not you tell me last night- Fid. We were interrupted before he could con
Oliv. I know not what I might tell you last tradict me. night, in a fright.
Man. But cann't you
tell me, d'ye say, what Eliz. Ay, what was that fright for? for a wo- kind of man he was ?
Fid. I was so frightened, I confess, I can give Free. Pshaw! but most of 'em are your relano other account of him, but that he was pretty tions; men of great fortuno and honour. tall, round-faced, and one I'm sure I ne'er had Man. Yes; but relations have so much honour, seen before.
as to think poverty taints the blood; and disown Man. But she, you say, made you swear to re- their wanting kindred: believing, I suppose, that, turn to-night?
as riches at first make a gentleman, the want of Fid. But I have since sworn, never to go near 'em degrades him. But, damn 'em, now I am her again ; for the husband would murder me, or poor, I'll anticipate their contempt, and disown worse, if he caught me again.
them. Mun. No, I will go with you, and defend you Free. But you have many a female acquaintto-night, and then I'll swear too, never to go near ance, whom you have been liberal to, who may her again.
have a heart to refund to you a little, if you would Fid. Nay, indeed, sir, I will not go, to be ac- ask it: they are not all Olivias. cessary to your death too: besides, what should Man. Damn thee! how couldst thou think of you go again, sir, for?
such a thing? I would as soon rob my footman Man. No disputing, or advice, sir, you have of his wages : besides, 'twere in vain too: for a reason to know I am unalterable.' Go, therefore, wench is like a box in an ordinary, receives all presently, and write her a note to inquire if her people's money easily; but there's no getting, nay assignation with you holds ; and if not to be at shaking any out again; and he that fills it, is suher own house, where else? and be importunate rest never to keep the key. to gain admittance to her to-night: let your mes- Free. Well, but, noble captain, would you make senger, ere he deliver your letter, inquire first, if me believe that you, who know half the town, her husband be gone out. Go, 'tis now almost six have so many friends, and have obliged so many, of the clock; I expect you back here before se- cann't borrow fifty or an hundred pounds? ven, with leave to see her then. Go, do this dex- Man. Why, noble lieutenant, you, who know terously, and expect the performance of my last all the town, and call all you know friends, menight's promise, never to part with you.
thinks should not wonder at it; since you find Fid. Ay, sir: but will you be sure to remember ingratitude too; for how many lords' families that?
(though descended from blacksmiths or tinkers) Man. Did I ever break my word ? Go; no more bast thou call'd great and illustrious ? how many replies, or doubts.
(Exit FIDELIA. ill tables call’d good eating? how many noisy cox
combs, wits? how many pert, cocking cowards, Enter FREEMAN to MANLY.
stout? how many tawdry, affected rogues, well Where hast thou been?
dress'd? how many perukes admired ? and how Free. In the next room, with my Lord Plausi- many ill verses applauded : and yet canst not borble and Novel.
row a shilling; dost thou expect I, who always Man. Ay, we came hither, because 'twas a pri- spoke truth, should ? vate house, but with thee indeed no house can Free. Nay, now you think you have paid me: be private, for thou hast that pretty quality of the But, hark you, captain, I have heard of a thing familiar fops of the town, who, in an eating-house, call’d grinning honour, but never of starving hoalways keep company with all people in't, but nour. those they came with.
Man. Well, but it has been the fate of some Free. I went into their room, but to keep them, brave men—and if they won't give me a ship and my own fool the 'squire, out of your room ; again, I can go starve any where, with a musket but you shall be peevish now, because you have
on my shoulder. no money. But why the devil won't you write to Free. Give you a ship! why, you will not sothose we were speaking of? Since your modesty,
licit it? or your spirit, will not suffer you to speak to 'em, Mun. If I have not solicited it by my services, to lend you money, why won't you try 'em at least I know no other way. y?
Free. Your servant, sir : nay, then, I'm satisMan. Because I know 'em already, and can fied I must solicit my widow the closer, and run bear want better than denials; nay, than obliga- the desperate fortune of matrimony on shore. tions.
[Exit. Free. Deny you they cannot : all of 'em have been your intimate friends.
Enter to MANLY, VERNISH. Man. No, they have been people only I have Man. How !-Nay, here is a friend indeed; obliged particularly.
and he that has him in his arms can know no Free. Very well; therefore you ought to go to wants.
[Embraces Vernisi. 'em the rather, sure.
Ver. Dear sir! and he that is in your arms is Man. No, no; those you have obliged most, secure from all'fcars whatever; nay, our nation most certainly avoid you, when you can oblige is secure, by your defeat at sea; and the Dutch, 'em no longer : and they take your visits like so that fought against you, have proved enemies to many duns; friends, like mistresses, are avoided, themselves only, in bringing you back to us. for obligations past.
Mun. Fie, fie! this from a friend ! and yet
from any other 'twere insufferable: I thought I should never have taken any thing ill from you.
Enter FREEMAN backwards, endeavouring to Ver. A friend's privilege is to speak his mind,
keep out NOVEL, Lord PLAUSIBLE, JERRY,
and OLDFox, who all press in though it be taken ill.
upon Man. But your tongue need not tell me you Free. I tell you, he has a wench with him, and think too well of me: I have found it from your would be private. heart, which spoke in actions, your unalterable Man. Damn'em! a man cann't open a bottle in heart.—But Olivia is false, my friend; which I these eating-houses, but presently you have these suppose is no news to you.
impudent, intruding, buzzing flies and insects in Ver. He's in the right on't.
(Aside. your glass.-Well, I'll tell thee all anon. In the Man. But couldst thou not keep her true to me? mean time, prythee go to her, but not from me, Ver. Not for my heart, sir.
and try if you can get her to lend me but an Man. But could you not perceive it at all, be hundred pounds of my money, to supply my pre. fore I went? Could she so deceive us both sent wants ; for I suppose there is no recovering
Ver. I must confess, the first time I knew it any of it by law. was three days after your departure, when she Ver. Not any: think not of it: nor by this received the money you had left in Lombard-way neither. street, in her name : and her tears did not hin. Man. Go try, at least. der her, it seems, from counting that.—You would Ver. I'll go ; but I can satisfy you beforehand, trust her with all, like a true, generous lover? it will be to no purpose: You'll no more find a
Man. And she, like a mean, jilting- refunding wench —
Man. Than a refunding lawyer : indeed, their Man. Base
fees, alike, scarce ever return : However, try her, Ver. Damn'd
put it to her. Man. Covetous
Ver. Ay, ay, I'll try her, put it to her home, Ver. Mercenary whore. I can hardly hold with a vengeance.
[Exit VERNISH. from laughing.
Manent cæteri. Man. Ay, a mercenary whore indeed; for she made me pay her before I lay with her.
Nov. Nay, you shall be our judge, Manly. Ver. How! Why, have you lain with her ? Come, major, I'll speak it to your teeth : If peoMan. Ay, ay.
ple provoke me to say bitter things to their faces, Ver. Nay, she deserves you should report it they must take what follows; though, like my at least, though you have not.
Lord Plausible, I'd rather do it civilly behind Man. Report it ! By Heaven, 'tis true. their backs. Ver. How ! sure not.
Man. Nay, thou art a dangerous rogue, I've Man. I do not use to lie, nor you to doubt me. heard, behind a man's back. Ver. When ?
L. Plaus. You wrong him sure, noble captain; Man. Last night, about seven or eight o'clock. he would do a man no more harm behind his
Ver. Ha !-Now I remember, I thought she back than to his face. spoke as if she expected some other, rather than Free. I am of my lord's mind. me.-A confounded whore indeed ! [ Aside. Man. Yes; a fool, like a coward, is the more
Man. But what, thou wonderest at it! nay, to be fear'd behind a man's back; more than a you seem to be angry too.
witty man; for, as a coward is more bloody than Ver. I cannot but be enraged against her, for a brave man, a fool is more malicious than a man herusage of you—damn’d, infamous, commonjade. of wit.
Man. Nay, her cuckold, who first cuckolded Nov. A fool, tar—a fool !-Nay, thou art a me in my money, shall not laugh all himself; we brave sea-judge of wit—A fool! -Proythee, when will do him reason, sha'n't we?
did you ever find me want something to say, as Ver. Ay, ay
you do often? Man. But thou dost not, for so great a friend, Man. Nay, I confess, thou art always talking, take pleasure enough in your friend's revenge, roaring, or making a noise ; that I'll say for thee. methinks.
Nov. Well; and is talking a sign of a fool ? Ver. Yes, yes; I'm glad to know it, since you Man. Yes; always talking, especially too if have lain with her.
it be loud and fast, is the sign of a fool. Man. Thou canst not tell me who that rascal Nov. Psha! talking is like fencing, the quicker her cuckold is?
the better: run 'em down, run 'em down ; no Ver. No.
matter for parrying : push on still, sa, sa, sa ; no Man. She would keep it from you, I suppose. matter whether you argue in form, push in guard, Ver. Yes, yes.
Man. Thou wouldst laugh, if thou knewest but Man. Or hit or no: I think thou always talk'st all the circumstances of my having her.-Come, without thinking, Novel. I'll tell thee.
Nov. Ay, ay; studied play's the worse, to folVer. Damn her! I care not to hear any more low the allegory, as the old pedant says. of her.
Old. A young fop! Man, Faith thou shalt. You must know- Man. I ever thought the man of most wit had
been like him of most money, who has no vanity Noo. You rail, and nobody hangs himself; and in shewing it every where; whilst the beggarly thou hast nothing of the satyr but in thy face. pusher of his fortune has all he has about him Old. And you have no jest but your face, sir. still, only to shew.
Noo. Thou art a fool, with a bad memory. Noo. Well, sir, and makes a very pretty show Man. Come, a pox on you both! you have in the world, let me tell you; nay, a better than done like vits now; for you wits, when you quaryour close hunks.-A pox ! give me ready mo- rel, never give over till ye prove one another fools. ney in play; what care i for a man's reputation ? Noo. And you fools have never any occasion What are we the better for your substantial thrif- of laughing at us wits, but when we quarrel : ty curmudgeon in wit, sir?
therefore let us be friends, Oldfox. Old. Thou art a profuse young rogue indeed. Man. They are such wits as thou art, who
Noo. So much for talking, which I think I make the name of a wit as scandalous as that of have proved a mark of wit: and so is railing, bully; and signify a loud laughing, talking, inroaring, and making a noise ; for railing is sa- corrigible coxcomb; as bully, a roaring, harden’d tire, you know, and roaring and making a noise, coward. humour.
Free. And one would have his noise and laughEnter to them FIDELIA, taking MANLY aside, ing for courage.
ter pass for wit, as t'other his huffing and blusterand shewing him a Paper.
Enter VERNISH. Fid. The hour is betwixt seven and eight exactly : 'tis now half an hour after six.
Man. Gentlemen, with your leave, here is one Man. Well, go then to the piazza, and wait I would speak with; and I have nothing to say
(Puts them out of the room. for me: as soon as it is quite dark, I'll be with you: I must stay here yet a while for my friend.
Manent MANLY, VERNISH. -But is railing satire, Novel ? [Erit FIDELIA.
Ver. I told you 'twas in vain to think of getFree. And roaring and making a noise, humour?. ting money out of her : She says, if a shilling Nov. What, won't you confess there's humour would do it, she would not save you from starin roaring and making a noise ?
ving or hanging, or, what you'd think worse, beg. Free. No.
ging or flattering; and rails so at you, one would Nor. Nor in cutting napkins and hangings?
not think you had lain with her. Man. No, sure.
Man. Ó, friend, never trust for that matter, Noo. Dull fops !
a woman's railing; for she is no less a dissembler Old. O rogue, rogue, insipid rogue !_Nay, in her hatred than her love ; and as her fondness gentlemen, allow him those things for wit; for of her husband is a sign he's a cuckold, her railhis parts lie only that way,
ing at another man is a sign she lies with him. Noo. Peace, old fool, I wonder not at thee;
Ver. He's in the right on't: I know not what but that young fellows should be so dull as to
to trust to.
[Aside. say, there's no humour in making a noise, and
Man. But you did not take any notice of it breaking windows,-I tell you, there's wit and
to her, I hope ? humour too in both; and a wit is as well known
Ver. So !-Sure he is afraid I should have disby his frolic as by his simile. Old. Poor rogue ! there's your modern wit for proved him, by an enquiry of her.-All may be
(Aside. you! wit and humour in breaking of windows !
Man. What hast thou in thy head, that makes There's mischief, if you will, but no wit or hu- thee seem so unquiet?
Ver. Only this base, impudent woman's false Noo. Pr’ythee, pr’ythee, peace, old fool. I
ness : I cannot put her out of my head. tell you, where there is mischief, there's wit.
Man. 0, my dear friend ! be not you too senDon't we esteem the monkey, a wit amongst sible of my wrongs ; for then I shall feel 'em too, beasts, only because he's mischievous ? And, let with more pain, and think 'em insufferable. me tell you, as good nature is the sign of a fool, Damn her, her money, and that ill-natured whore being mischievous is the sign of a wit.
too, Fortune herself!-But if thou wouldst ease old. O rogue, rogue! pretend to be a wit, by
a little my present trouble, prythee go to borrow doing mischief and railing !
me, somewhere else, some money: I can trouble Noo. Why, thou, old fool, hast no other pre- thee. tence to the name of a wit, but by railing at new Ver. You trouble me indeed, most sensibly, plays. Old. Thou, by railing at that facetious, noble I have lately lost a great deal of money at play,
when you command me any thing I cannot do: way of wit, quibbling.
more than I can yet pay; so that not only my Noo. Thou call'st thy dulness gravity, and thy money, but my credit too is gone, and know not dozing thinking
where to borrow, but could rob a church for you Old. You, sir, your dulness spleen; and you -Yet would rather end your wants, by cutting talk much, and say nothing.
[ Aside. Noo. Thou read'st much, and understand’st Man. Nay then, I doubly feel my poverty, nothing, sir.
sioce I'm incapable of supplying thee. Old. You laugh aloud, and break no jest.