Vain. And I love to have the pleasure of ma- | thoughtful; may be I may discover something in king my peace—I should not esteem a pardon my mask-Worthy sir, a word with you. if too easy won. Bell. Thou dost not know what thou wouldst be at; whether thou wouldst have her angry or pleased. Couldst thou be content to marry Araminta? Vain. Could you be content to go to heav'n? Bell. Hum, not immediately, in my conscience not heartily: I'd do a little more good in my generation first, in order to deserve it. Vain. Nor I to marry Araminta, till I merit her. Bell. But how the devil dost thou expect to get her if she never yield? Vain. That's true; but I would [Puts on her mask. Set. Why, if I were known, I might come to be a great man Lucy. Not to interrupt your meditationSet. And I should not be the first that has cured his greatness by pimping. pro Lucy. Now poverty and the pox light upon thee, for a contemplative pimp. Set. Ha! what art, who thus maliciously hast awakened me from my dream of glory? Speak, thou vile disturber Lucy. Of thy most vile cogitations-thou poor, conceited wretch, how wert thou valuing thyself upon thy master's employment; for he's the head Bell. Marry her without her consent; thou'rt pimp to Mr Bellmour. a riddle beyond woman Bell. And hast thou provided necessaries? Set. All, all, sir; the large sanctified hat, and the like precise band, with a swinging long spiritual cloak, to cover carnal knavery- -not forgetting the black patch, which Tribulation Spintext wears, as I'm informed, upon one eye, as a penal mourning for the ogling offences of his youth; and some say, with that eye he first discovered the frailty of his wife. Bell. Well, in this fanatic father's habit will I confess Lætitia. Set. Rather prepare her for confession, sir, by helping her to sin. Set. Good words, damsel, or I shallhow dost thou know my master or me? be -But Lucy. Yes, I know both master and man to Set. To be men perhaps; nay, faith, like enough; I often march in the rear of my master, and enter the breaches which he has made. Lucy. Ay, the breach of faith, which he has begun, thou traitor to thy lawful princess! Set. Why how now? pr'ythee who art? lay by that worldly face, and produce your natural vizor. Lucy. No, sirrah; I'll keep it on to abuse thee, and leave thee without hopes of revenge. Set. Oh! I begin to smoke ye: thou art some forsaken Abigail, we have dallied with heretofore, and art come to tickle thy imagination with remembrance of iniquity past. Lucy. No, thou pitiful flatterer of thy master's imperfections; thou maukin, made up of the shreds and parings of his superfluous fopperies. Set. Thou art thy mistress's foul self, composed of her sullied iniquities and cloathing. Lucy. Hang thee,-beggar's cur!-Thy master is but a mumper in love, lies canting at the gate, but never dares presume to enter the house. Set. Thou art the wicket to thy mistress's gate, to be opened for all comers. In fine, thou art the road to thy mistress, as a clap is to the pox. Lucy. Beast, filthy toad, I can hold no longer! look and tremble. [Unmasks. Bell. Be at your master's lodging in the evening-I shall use the robes. [Exit BELL. Set. I shall, sir-I wonder to which of these two gentlemen I do most properly appertain the one uses me as his attendant; the other (be-high ing the better acquainted with my parts) employs me as a pimp; why that's much the more honourable employment-by all means-I follow one as my master, but t'other follows me as his conductor. Enter LUCY. -I had Lucy. There's the hang-dog his mana power over him in the reign of my mistress; but be is too true a valet de chambre not to affect his master's faults; and consequently is revolted from his allegiance. Set. Undoubtedly 'tis impossible to be a pimp and not a man of parts: that is, without being politic, diligent, secret, wary, and so forth-And to all this, valiant as Hercules-that is, passively valiant and actively obedient. Ah! Setter, what a treasure is here lost for want of being known! Lucy. Here's some villainy a-foot, he's so Set. How, Mrs Lucy? Lucy. I wonder thou hast the impudence to look me in the face. Set. 'Adsbud, who's in fault, mistress of mine? who flung the first stone? who undervalued my function? and who the devil could know you by instinct? Lucy. You could know my office by instinct, and be hanged, which you have slandered most abominably. It vexes me not what you said of my person, but that my innocent calling should be exposed and scandalized-I cannot bear it. [Cries. Set. Nay faith, Lucy, I'm sorry; I'll own myself to blame, though we were both in fault as to our offices- -Come, I'll make you any reparation. Lucy. Swear. Sct. I do swear to the utmost of my power. Lucy. To be brief then: What is the reason your master did not appear to-day according to the summons I brought him? Set. To answer you as briefly-He has a cause to be tried in another court. Lucy. Come, tell me in plain terms how forward he is with Araminta? Set. Too forward to be turned back- -though he's a little in disgrace at present about a kiss which he forced. You and I can kiss, Lucy, without all that. Lucy. Stand off- -He's a precious jewel. Set. And therefore you'd have him to set in your lady's locket. Lucy. Where is he now? Set. He'll be in the piazza presently. Lucy. Remember to-day's behaviour me see you with a penitent face. -Let Set. What, no token of amity, Lucy? You and -I'll not be slabbered and kissed now-I'm not in the humour. [Exit. Enter Sir JOSEPH WITTOL, and BLUFFE. Bluff. And so, out of your unwonted generosity Sir Jo. And good-nature, Back; I am good-natured, and I cann't help it. Bluff. You have given him a note upon Fondlewite for a hundred pound. Sir Jo. Ay, ay, poor fellow, he ventured fair for't. Bluff. You have disobliged me in it- -for II have occasion for the money; and, if you would look me in the face and live, go, and force him to re-deliver you the note- -go—and bring it me hither. I'll stay here for you. Sir Jo. You may stay till the day of judgment then, by the lord Harry. I know better things than to be run through the guts for a hundred pound-Why, I gave that hundred pound for being saved, and d'ye think, an there were no danger, I'll be so ungrateful to take it from the gentleman again? Bluff. Well, go to him from me-Tell him, I say, he must refund-or bilbo's the word, and slaughter will ensue-if he refuse, tell him-but whisper that tell him-I'll pink his soul-but whisper that softly to him. Sir Jo. So softly, that he shall never hear on't, I warrant you-Why, what a devil's the matter, Bully, are you mad? Or d'ye think I'm mad?— 'Egad! for my part, I don't love to be the messenger of ill news; 'tis an ungrateful office—so tell him yourself. Bluff. By these hilts, I believe he frightened you into this composition:-I believe you gave it him out of fear, pure paltry fear-confess. Sir Jo. No, no:-ilang't, I was not afraid neither-though, I confess, he did in a manner snap me up ;-yet I cann't say it was altogether out of fear, but partly to prevent mischief,-for he was a devilish choleric fellow: And if my choler had been up too, 'egad there would have been mischief done, that's flat. And yet, I believe, if you had been by, I would as soon have let him have had a hundred of my teeth.—'Odsheart, if he should come just now when I'm angry—I'd tell him-Mum! Enter SHARPER and BELLMOUR. Bell. Thou'rt a lucky rogue!-There's your benefactor; you ought to return him thanks now you have received the favour. Sharp. Sir Joseph, your note was accepted, and the money paid at sight: I'm come to return my thanks Sir Jo. They won't be accepted so readily as the bill, sir. Bell. I doubt the knight repents, Tom :-He looks like the knight of the sorrowful face! Sharp. This is a double generosity-Do me a kindness, and refuse my thanks-But I hope you are not offended that I offered them. Sir Jo. May be I am, sir; may be I am not, sir; may be I am both, sir; what then? I hope I may be offended, without any offence to you, sir. Sharp. Hey-day! captain, what's the matter? You can tell. Bluff Mr Sharper, the matter is plain-Sir Joseph has found out your trick, and does not care to be put upon, being a man of honour! Sharp. Trick, sir? Sir Jo. Ay, trick, sir; and won't be put upon, sir, being a man of honour, sir! and so, sir Sharp Hark'e, Sir Joseph, a word with yeIn consideration of some favours lately received, would not have you draw yourself into a premu nire, by trusting to that sign of a man therethat pop-gun charged with wind. Sir Jo. O Lord! O Lord! captain, come justi fy yourself I'll give him the lie, if you'll stand to it. Sharp. Nay, then I'll be before hand with you; take that, oaf! [Cuffs him. Sir Jo. Captain, will you see this? Won't you pink his soul? Bluff. Hush! 'tis not so convenient nowshall find a time. -I Sharp. What do you mutter about a time, rascal?-You were the incendiary-There's to put you in mind of your time—A memorandum. [Kicks him. Bluff. Oh! this is your time, sir, you had best make use on't. Sharp. 'Egad, and so I will:-There's again for you. [Kicks him. Bluff. You are obliging, sir; but this is too public a place to thank you in: But in your car, you are to be seen again. Sharp. Ay, you inimitable coward, and to be felt-As for example. [Kicks him. Bell. Ha, ha, ha! Pr'ythee come away: 'Tis scandalous to kick this puppy, without a man were cold, and had no other way to get himself a-beat. [Exeunt BELL, and SHARP. Bluff. Very well-very fine-But 'tis no matIs not this fine, Sir Joseph ? ter Sir Jo. Indifferent, 'egad, in my opinion very indifferent-I'd rather go plain all my life, than wear such finery. Bluff. Death and hell! to be affronted thus: Bluff. By heaven! 'tis not to be put up. Sir Jo. No, 'egad! no more 'tis, for that's up already; thy sword I mean. Silv. Indeed it is very fine-I could look upon 'em all day. Heart. Well, has this prevailed for me, and look upon me? will you Silv. If you could sing and dance so, I should love to look upon you too. Heart. Why 'twas I sung and danced; I gave music to the voice, and life to their measures-Look you here, Silvia, [Pulling out a purse, and chinking it.] here are songs and dances, poetry and music- -Hark! how sweetly one guinea rhymes to another-And how they dance to the music of their own chink. This buys all the t'other put-And this thou shalt have; this, and all that I am worth, for the purchase of thy love—Say, is it mine then? Ha! speak, syren-Oons! why do I look on her! Yet I must-Speak, dear angel, devil, saint, witch! do not rack me in suspence. -You make me Bluff. Well, Sir Joseph, at thy entreatyBut were not you, my friend, abused, and cuff'd, and kick'd[Putting up his sword. Sir Jo. Ay, ay! so were you too! No matter, 'tis past Bluff. By the immortal thunder of great guns! 'tis false-He sucks not vital air who dares affirm it to this face! [Looks big. Sir Jo. To that face I grant you, captainNo, no, I grant you- -Not to that face, by the Lord Harry!If you had put on your fighting face before, you had done his business-He durst as soon have kissed you, as kick'd you to your face-But a man can no more help what's done behind his back, than what's said-Come, we'll think no more of what's past. Bluff. I'll call a council of war within, to con. sider of my revenge to come. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to SILVIA's Lodgings. Enter HEARTWELL and SILVIA. SONG. As Amoret and Thyrsis lay The fearful nymph replied-Forbear! Vex'd at the pleasure she had miss'd, Silv. Nay, don't stare at me soblush-I cannot look. Heart. Oh, manhood, where art thou? What am I come to? A woman's toy, at these years! 'Sdeath! a bearded baby for a girl to dandleO dotage, dotage! That ever that noble passion, lust, should ebb to this degree-No reflux of vigorous blood: But milky love supplies the empty channels, and prompts me to the softness of a child-A mere infant, and would suck. Can you love me, Silvia ?-speak! Silo. I dare not speak till I believe you,-and indeed I'm afraid to believe you yet. Heart. Pox, how her innocence torments and pleases me! Lying, child, is indeed the art of love, and men are generally masters in it: But I'm so newly entered, you cannot distrust me of any skill in the treacherous mystery- -Now, by my soul, I cannot lie, though it were to serve a friend or gain a mistress. Silv. Must you lie, then, if you say you love me? Heart. No, no, dear ignorance! thou beauteous changeling!-I tell thee I do love thee, and tell it for a truth, a naked truth, which I'm ashamed to discover. Silv. But love, they say, is a tender thing, that will smooth frowns, and make calm an angry face; will soften a rugged temper, and make ill-humoured people good:-You look ready to fright one, and talk as if your passion were not love but an. ger. Heart. 'Tis both; for I am angry with myself when I am pleased with you-And a pox upon me for loving thee so well-Yet I must on- 'Tis a bearded arrow, and will more easily be thrust forward than drawn back. She frown'd and blush'd, then sigh'd and kiss'd, but how can I be well assured? Silv. Indeed, if I were well assured you loved And seem'd to moan, in sullen cooing, After the song, a Dance of Antics. VOL. III. Heart. Take the symptoms; and ask all the tyrants of thy sex, if their fools are not known by this party-coloured livery-I am melancholy, when thou art absent; look like an ass, when thou art present; wake for you when I should sleep; and even dream of you when I am awake; X sigh much, drink little, eat less; court solitude; am grown very entertaining to myself, and (as I am informed) very troublesome to every body else. If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable-Nay, yet a more certain sign than all this-I give thee my money! Silo. Ay, but that is no sign; for, they say, gentlemen will give money to any naughty woman to come to bed to them-O, Gemini! I hope you don't mean so for I won't be a whore. Heart. The more is the pity. [Aside. Silv. Nay, if you would marry me, you should not come to bed to me-You have such a beard, and would so prickle one. But do you intend to marry me? Heart. That a fool should ask such a malicious question!-'Sdeath, I shall be drawn in before I know where I amHowever, I find I am pretty sure of her consent, if I am put to it. Marry you! no, no, I'll love you [Aside. Silv. Nay, but if you love me, you must marry me; what, don't I know my father loved my mother, and was married to her! Heart. Ay, ay! in old days people married where they loved; but that fashion is changed, child. Silv. Never tell me that; I know it is not changed by myself; for I love you, and would marry you. Heart. I'll have my beard shaved, it sha'n't hurt thee, and we'll go to bed the world shall believe it: Nay, thou shalt think Heart. [Aside.] A woman, and ignorant, may Bless me! you frighted me; I thought he had been come again, and had heard me. Lucy. Lord, madam, I met your lover in as much haste as if he had been going for a midwife. Silv. He's going for a parson, girl, the forerunner of a midwife, some nine months henceWell, I find disscmbling to our sex is as natural as swimming to a negro; we may depend upon our skill to save us at a plunge, though till then we never make the experiment- -But how hast thou succeeded? Silv. No, no, I'm not such a fool neither, but I can keep myself honest.-Here, I won't keep any thing that's yours; I hate you now, [Throws the purse.] and I'll never see you again, 'cause you'd have me naughty. [Going. Lucy. As you would wish- -Since there is no Heart. Damn her, let her go! and a good rid-reclaiming Vainlove, I have found out a pique she dance---Yet so much tenderness and beauty has taken at him, and have framed a letter, that and honesty together, is a jewel-Stay, Silvia! makes her sue for reconciliation first. I know -But then to marry- -Why every man plays that will do-walk in, and I'll shew it you. Come, the fool once in his life: But to marry is playing madam, you're like to have a happy time on't, the fool all one's life long. both your love and anger satisfied-All that can charm our sex conspire to please you. Silv. What did you call me for? Heart. I'll give thee all I have: And thou shalt live with me in every thing so like my wife, That woman sure enjoys a blessed night, Whom love and vengeance do at once delight. [Exeunt. Fond. Ha, how's that? Stay, stay, did you leave word, say you, with his wife-with Comfort herself? Bar. I did; and Comfort will send Tribulation hither as soon as ever he comes home-I could have brought young Mr Prig to have kept my mistress company in the mean time; but you say Fond. How, how, say, varlet! I say, let him not come near my doors. I say he is a wanton young Levite, and pampereth himself up with dainties, that he may look lovely in the eyes of womenSincerely I am afraid he hath already defiled the tabernacle of our sister Comfort; while her good husband is deluded by his godly appearanceI say, that even lust doth sparkle in his eyes and glow upon his cheeks, and that I would as soon trust my wife with a lord's high-fed chaplain. Bar. Sir, the hour draws nigh, and nothing will be done there till you come. Fond. And nothing can be done here till I go -So that I'll tarry, d'ye see. Bar. And run the hazard to lose your affair so? Fond. Good lack, good lack !—I profess it is a very sufficient vexation for a man to have a hand some wife. Bar. Never, sir, but when the man is an insufficient husband. 'Tis then, indeed, like the vanity of taking a fine house, and yet be forced to let lodgings, to help to pay the rent. Fond. I profess a very apt comparison, varlet. Go in, and bid my cocky come out to me; I will give her some instructions, I will reason with her before I go; [Exit BARNABY.] and, in the mean time, I will reason with myselfTell me, Isaac, why art thee jealous? Why art thee distrustful of the wife of thy bosom?-Because she is young and vigorous, and I am old and impotent-Then why didst thee marry, Isaac ?-Because she was beautiful and tempting, and because I was obstinate and doting; so that my inclination was, and is still, greater than my power--And will not that which tempted thee also tempt others, who will tempt her, Isaac ?-I fear it much-But does not thy wife love thee, nay, dote upon thee?Yes-Why then,--Ay, but to say truth, she's fonder of me than she has reason to be; and, in the way of trade, we still suspect the smoothest dealers of the deepest designs; and that she has some designs deeper than thou canst reach, thou hast experimented, Isaac-But mum ! Enter LETITIA. Lat. I hope my dearest jewel is not going to leave me-Are you, Nykin? Fond. Wife!-have you thoroughly considered how detestable, how heinous, and how crying a sin, the sin of adultery is? Have you weighed it, I say? For it is a very weighty sin; and altho' it may lie heavy upon thee, yet thy husband must also bear his part; for thy iniquity will fall upon his head. Lat. Bless me, what means my dear! Fond. [Aside. I profess she has an alluring eye; I'm doubtful whether I shall trust her, even with Tribulation himself-Speak, I say, have you con sidered what it is to cuckold your husband? Lat. [Aside.] I'm amazed:-sure he has disco vered nothing-Who has wronged me to my dearest? I hope my jewel does not think that ever I had any such thing in my head, or ever will have? Fond. No, no, I tell you I shall have it in my head-You will have it somewhere else. Lat. [Aside.] I know not what to think. But I'm resolved to find the meaning of it --Unkind dear! was it for this you sent to call me? Is it not affliction enough that you are to leave me, but you must study to increase it by unjust suspicions? [Crying. Well-well-you know my fondness, and you love to tyrannizeGo on, cruel man! do--triumph over my poor heart while it holds, which cannot be long, with this usage of yours-But that's what you wantWell-you will have your ends soon-you willyou will-Yes, it will break to oblige you. [Sighs. Fond. Verily, I fear, I have carried the jest too far-Nay, look you now if she does not weep 'tis the fondest fool--Nay, Cocky, Cocky! nay, dear Cocky! don't cry, I was but in jest, I was, ifeck. Lat. [Aside.] Oh! then all's safe. I was terribly frighted-My affliction is always your jest, barbarous man! Oh, that I should love to this degree! yet Fond. Nay, Cocky! Lat. No, no, you are weary of me, that's it that's all, you would get another wife-another fond fool, to break her heart--Well, be as cruel as you can to me, I'll pray for you; and when I am dead with grief, may you have one that will love you as well as I have done: I shall be contented to lie in peace in my cold grave, since it will please you. [Sighs. Fond. Good lack, good lack! she would melt a heart of oak-I profess I can hold no longer--Nay, dear Cocky-Ifeck you'll break my heartifeck you will-See, you have made me weepmade poor Nykin weep-Nay, come kiss, buss poor Nykin-and I won't leave thee-I'll lose all first. Lat. [Aside.] How! Heaven forbid! that will be carrying the jest too far indeed. Fond. Won't you kiss Nykin? Lat. Go, naughty Nykin, you don't love me. Fond. Kiss, kiss; ifeck I do. Lat. No, you don't. [She kisses him. Sighs. Fond. What, not love Cocky? Læt. No-1. Fond. I profess I love thee better than five hundred pound; and so thou shalt say, for I'll leave it to stay with thee. Lat. No, you sha'n't neglect your business for me-No, indeed, you sha'n't, Nykin-If you don't go, I'll think you been dealous of me stil. Fond. He, he, he! wilt thou, poor fool? Then I will go, I won't be dealous-Poor Cocky, kiss Nykin, kiss Nykin, ee, ee, ee!-Here will be the good man anon, to talk to Cocky, and teach her how a wife ought to behave herself, |