Brisk. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you shew 'em. Ld F. He, he, he, I swear that's so very pretty, I cann't forbear. Care. I find a quibble bears more sway in your lordship's face than a jest. Ld T. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire to the ladies, and drink a dish of tea to settle our heads. Sir Paul. With all my heart. Mr Brisk, you'll come to us— or call me when you joke-I'll be ready to laugh incontinently. [Exeunt Ld T. and Sir PAUL. Mel. But does your lordship never see comedies? Ld F. O yes, sometimes, but I never laugh. Mel. No? Ld F. Oh, no, never laugh indeed, sir. Care. No! Why what d'ye go there for? Ld F. To distinguish myself from the commonalty, and mortify the poets;-the fellows grow so conceited when any of their foolish wit prevails upon the side-boxes.-I swear-he, he, he, I have often constrained my inclinations to laugh he, he, he, to avoid giving them encouragement. Mel. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as well as malicious to them. Ld F. I confess I did myself some violence at first, but now I think I have conquered it. Brisk. Let me perish, my lord, but there is something very particular in the humour; 'tis true, it makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some friends of mine that write, but 'egad I love to be malicious.-Nay, deuce take me, there's wit in't too and wit must be foil'd by wit; cut a diamond with a diamond, no other way, 'egad. Ld F. Oh, I thought you would not be long before you found out the wit. Care. Wit! in what? Where the devil's the wit in not laughing when a man has a mind to't? Brisk. O lord, why, cann't you find it out?Why, there it is, in the not laughing-Don't you apprehend me?- -My lord, Careless is a very honest fellow, but hark ye-you understand me? somewhat heavy, a little shallow or so. Why, I'll tell you now, suppose now you come up to me- -nay, pr'ythee, Careless, be instructed. Suppose, as I was saying, you come up to me holding your sides, and laughing, as if you wouldwell-I look grave, and ask the cause of this immoderate mirth-you laugh on still, and are not able to tell me -still I look grave, not so much as smile Care. Smile? no, what the devil should you smile at, when you suppose I cann't tell you? Brisk. Pshaw, pshaw ! pr'ythee don't interrupt me. But I tell you, you shall tell me at lastbut it shall be a great while first. Care. Well; but pr'ythee don't let it be a great while, because I long to have it over. Brisk. Well then, you tell me some good jest, or very witty thing, laughing all the while as if you were ready to die- -and I hear it, and look thus-Would not you be disappointed? Care. No; for if it were a witty thing, I should not expect you to understand it. LA F. O foy, Mr Careless, all the world allows Mr Brisk to have wit; my wife says he has a great deal. I hope you think her a judge. Brisk. Pooh! my lord, his voice goes for nothing.-I cann't tell how to make him apprehend. -Take it t'other way. Suppose I say a witty thing to you? Care. Then I shall be disappointed, indeed. Mel. Let him alone, Brisk, he is obstinately bent not to be instructed. Brisk. I'm sorry for him, the deuce take me. Mel. Shall we go to the ladies, my lord? Ld F. With all my heart-methinks we are a solitude without them. Mel. Or, what say you to another bottle of champagne? Ld F. O, for the universe, not a drop more, I beseech you. Oh, intemperate! I have a flushing in my face already. [Takes out a pocket-glass, and looks in it. Brisk. Let me see, let me see, my lord, I broke my glass that was in the lid of my snuff-snuffHum! deuce take me, I have encouraged a pimple here too. [Takes the glass, and looks. Ld F. Then you must mortify him with a patch: my wife shall supply you. Come, gentlemen, allons, here is company coming. [Exeunt. Enter Lady TOUCHWOOD and Maskwell. Lady T. I'll hear no more- -you're false and ungrateful: Come, I know you false. Mask. I have been frail, I confess, madam, for your ladyship's service. Lady T. That I should trust a man whom I had known betray his friend! Musk. What friend have I betrayed; or to whom? Lady T. Your fond friend Mellefont, and to me Can you deny it? Mask. I do not. Lady T. Have you not wronged my lord, who has been a father to you in your wants, and given you being? Have you not wronged him in the highest manner, in his bed? Mask. With your ladyship's help, and for your service, as I told you before. I cannot deny that neither. Any thing more, madam ? Lady T. More! audacious villain. Oh, what's more is most my shame-Have you not dishonoured me? Mask. No, that I deny; for I never told in all my life; so that accusation's answered.-On to but a sedate, a thinking villain, whose black blood runs temperately bad, what excuse can clear? Mask. Will you be in temper, madam? I would not talk not to be heard. I have been [She walks about disordered.] a very great rogue for your sake, and you reproach me with it; I am ready to be a rogue still, to do you service; and you are flinging conscience and honour in my face, to rebate my inclinations. How am I to behave myself? You know I am your creature; my life and fortune in your power; to disoblige you brings me certain ruin. Allow it, I would betray you, I would not be a traitor to myself: I do not pretend to honesty, because you know I am a rascal: but I would convince you from the necessity of my being firm to you. Lady T. Necessity, impudence! Can no gratitude incline you, no obligations touch you? Have not my fortune and my person been subjected to your pleasure? Were you not in the nature of a servant, and have I not in effect made you lord of all, of me, and of my lord? Where is that humble love, the languishing, that adoration, which once was paid me, and everlastingly engaged? Mask. Fixed, rooted in my heart, whence nothing can remove them, yet you Lady T. Yet, what yet? Mask Nay, misconceive me not, madam, when I say I have had a generous and a faithful passion, which you had never favoured but through revenge and policy. Ludy T. Ha! Mask. Look you, madam, we are alone.-Pray contain yourself, and hear me. You know you loved your nephew when I first sighed for you; I quickly found it; an argument that I loved : for with that art you veiled your passion, 'twas imperceptible to all but jealous eyes. This discovery made me bold, I confess it; for by it I thought you in my power.-Your nephew's scorn of you added to my hopes; I watched the occasion, and took you just repulsed by him, warm at once with love and indignation; your disposition, my arguments, and happy opportunity accomplished my design; I press'd the yielding minute, and was bless'd! How I have loved you since, words have not shown, then how should words express? Lady T. Well, mollifying devil!-And have I not met your love with forward fire? Mask. Your zeal I grant was ardent, but misplaced-there was revenge in view; that woman's idol had defiled the temple of the god, and love was made a mock-worship. A son and heir would have edged young Mellefont upon the brink of ruin, and left him none but you to catch at for prevention. Lady T. Again, provoke me! Do you wind me like a larum, only to rouse my stilled soul for your diversion? Confusion! Mask. Nay, madam, I am gone, if you relapse -What needs this? I say nothing but what you yourself, in open hours of love, have told me. Why should you deny? Nay, how can you? Is not all this present heat owing to the same fire? Do you not love him still? How have I this day offended you, but in not breaking off his match with Cynthia? which, ere to-morrow, shall be done-had you but patience. Lady T. How, what said you, Maskwell?-Another caprice to unwind my temper? Mask. By heaven, no! I am your slave, the slave of all your pleasures; and will not rest till I have given you peace, would you suffer me. Lady T. Oh, Maskweil, in vain do I disguise me from thee! thou knowest me, knowest the very inmost windings and recesses of my soul.Oh, Mellefont! I burn!-Married to-morrow!Despair strikes me!-Yet my soul knows I hate him too: Let him but once be mine, and next, immediate ruin seize him! Mask. Compose yourself; you shall possess and ruin him too-Will that please you? Lady T. How, how? thou dear, thou precious villain, how? Mask. You have already been tampering with my Lady Plyant. Lady T. I have: she is ready for any impres sion I think fit. Mask. She must be thoroughly persuaded that Mellefont loves her. Lady T. She is so credulous that way naturally, and likes him so well, that she will believe it faster than I can persuade her. But I don't see what you can propose from such a trifling design; for her first conversing with Mellefont will convince her of the contrary. Mask. I know it—I don't depend upon it.-But it will prepare something else; and gain us leisure to lay a stronger plot. If I gain a little time, I shall not want contrivance. One minute gives invention to destroy, ACT II. SCENE I.-Enter Lady FROTH and CYNTHIA. Cyn. Indeed, madam! Is it possible your ladyship could have been so much in love? Lady F. I could not sleep; I did not sleep one wink for three weeks together. Cyn. Prodigious! I wonder want of sleep, and so much love, and so much wit as your ladyship has, did not turn your brain. Lady F. O, my dear Cynthia! you must not rally your friend-but really, as you say, I wonder too-but then I had a way. For, between you and I, I had whimsies and vapours, but I gave them vent. Cyn. How, pray, madam? Lady F. O, I writ, writ abundantly-Do you your expression, and then your bow! Good, my never write? Cyn. Write what? Lady F. Songs, elegies, satires, encomiums, panegyrics, lampoons, plays, or heroic poems. Cyn. O Lord, not I, madam! I am content to be a courteous reader. Lady F. O inconsistent! in love, and not write! If my lord and I had been both of your temper, we had never come together-O bless me ! what a sad thing would that have been, if my lord and I should never have met! Cyn. Then neither my lord nor you would ever have met with your match, on my conscience. Lady F. O' my conscience no more we should; thou say'st right-for sure my Lord Froth is as fine a gentleman, and as much a man of qualityAh! nothing at all of the common air-I think I may say, he wants nothing but a blue ribband and a star to make him shine the very phosphorus of our hemisphere. Do you understand those two hard words? If you don't, I'll explain them to you. Cyn. Yes, yes, madam, I am not so ignorant -at least I won't own it, to be troubled with your instructions. [Aside. Lady F. Nay, I beg your pardon; but, being derived from the Greek, I thought you might have escaped the etymology.- -But I am the more amazed, to find you a woman of letters, and not write! Bless me! how can Mellefont believe you love him? Cyn. Why, faith, madam, he that won't take my word, shall never have it under my hand. Lady F. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but methinks he wants a manner. Cyn. A manner! What's that, madam? Lady F. Some distinguishing quality, as for example, the bel air or brilliant of Mr Brisk; the solemnity, yet complaisance, of my lord, or something of his own that should look a little je ne sçai quoi; he is too much a mediocrity in my mind. Cyn. He does not, indeed, affect either pertness or formality, for which I like him—Here he comes. Enter Lord FROth, Mellefont, and BRISK. Impertinent creature! I could almost be angry with her now. [Aside. Lady F. My lord, I have been telling Cynthia how much I have been in love with you; I swear I have; I'm not ashamed to own it now:-Ah! it makes my heart leap; I vow I sigh when I think on't:-My dear lord! ha, ha, ha!-Do you remember, my lord? [Squeezes him by the hand, looks kindly on him, sighs, and then laughs out. Ld F. Pleasant creature! Perfectly well, ah! that look! Ay, there it is; who could resist! 'Twas so my heart was made a captive at first, and ever since it has been in love with happy slavery. Lady F. O that tongue, that dear deceitful tongue! that charming softness in your mien and lord, bow as you did when I gave you my picture; here, suppose this my picture. [Gives him a pocket-glass.] Pray mind my lord? Ah! he bows charmingly. Nay, my lord, you sha'n't kiss it so much; I shall grow jealous, I vow now. [He bows profoundly low, then kisses the glass. Ld F. I saw myself there, and kissed it for your sake. Lady F. Ah! gallantry to the last degreeMr Brisk, you are a judge; was ever any thing so well bred as my lord? Brisk. Never any thing but your ladyship, let me perish. Lady F. O prettily turned again! let me die but you have a great deal of wit.- -Mr Mellefont, don't you think Mr Brisk has a world of wit? Mel. O yes, madam. Brisk. O dear, madam- Brisk. O heavens! madam- Ld F. Don't you think us a happy couple? Cyn. I vow, my lord, I think you the happiest couple in the world; for you are not only happy in one another, and when you are together, but happy in yourselves, and by yourselves. Ld F. I hope Mellefont will make a good hus band too. Brisk. [To Lady FROTH.] Your ladyship is in the right; but, 'egad, I'm wholly turned into satire. I confess I write but seldom, but when I do -keen iambics, 'egad. But my lord was telling me, your ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem. -And Lady F. Did my lord tell you?-Yes, I vow, and the subject is my lord's love to me.what do you think I call it? I dare swear you won't guess-The Sillabub, ha, ha, ha! Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, 'egad; ha, ha, ha! deuce take me, very à-propos, and surprising, ha, ha, ha! Lady F. He! ay, is it not?----And then I call my lord Spumosa; and myself-what do you think I call myself? Brisk. Lactilla, may be-'Egad I cannot tell. Lady F. Biddy, that's all; just my own name. Brisk. Biddy! 'Egad, very pretty-Deuce take me, if your ladyship has not the art of surprising the most naturally in the world-I hope you'll make me happy in communicating the poem. Lady F. O, you must be my confidant, I must ask your advice. Brisk. I'm your humble servant, let me perish -I presume your ladyship has read Bossu? Lady F. O, yes, and Rapine, and Dacier upon Aristotle and Horace. My lord, you must not be jealous-I'm communicating all to Mr Brisk. Ld F. No, no, I'll allow Mr Brisk; have you nothing about you to show him, my dear? Lady F. Yes, I believe I have. Mr Brisk, come will you go into the next room, and there I'll shew you what I have. [Exit with BRISK. Ld F. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and come to you. [Exit. Mel. You are thoughtful, Cynthia. Cyn. I am thinking, though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves them still two fools; and they become more conspicuous by setting off one another. Mel. That's only when two fools meet, and their follies are opposed. Cyn. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and, by the opposition of their wit, render themselves as ridiculous as fools. 'Tis an odd game we are going to play at: what think you of drawing stakes, and giving over in time?" Mel. No, hang it, that's not endeavouring to win, because it is possible we may lose; since we have shuffled and cut, let's e'en turn up trump now. Then too late desire will find you, Mel. You shall have my thanks below. [To the Music-they go out. Enter Sir PAUL PLYANT and Lady PLYANT. Sir Paul. Gads-bud! I am provoked into a fermentation, as my Lady Froth says; was ever the like read of in story! Lady P. Sir Paul, have patience; let me alone to rattle him up. Sir Paul. Pray, your ladyship, give me leave to be angry- -I'll rattle him up, I warrant you; I'll firk him with a certiorari. Lady P. You firk him! I'll firk him myself. Pray, Sir Paul, hold yourself contented. Cyn. Bless me, what makes my father in such a passion!-I never saw him thus before. Sir Paul. Hold yourself contented, my Lady Plyant- -I find passion coming upon me by inflation, and I cannot submit as formerly, therefore give way. Lady P. How now!-will you be pleased to retire, and Sir Paul. No, marry, will I not be pleased; I am pleased to be angry, that's my pleasure at this time. Mel. What can this mean? Lady P. Gads my life, the man's distracted! Why, how now, who are you?-What am I?— Slidikins, cann't I govern you?-What did I marry you for?-Am I not to be absolute and uncontroulable? Is it fit a woman of my spirit and conduct should be contradicted in a matter of this concern? Sir Paul. It concerns me, and only me :Besides, I am not to be govern'd at all times.1 When I am in tranquillity, my Lady Plyant shall command Sir Paul; but when I am provoked to fury, I cannot incorporate with patience and reason-as soon may tigers match with tigers, lambs with lambs, and every creature couple with its foe, as the poet says. Lady P. He's hot-headed still! 'Tis in vain to talk to you; but remember I have a curtainlecture for you, you disobedient, headstrong brute! Sir Paul. No, 'tis because I won't be headstrong; because I won't be a brute, and have my head fortified, that I am thus exasperated.-But I will protect my honour, and yonder is the violater of my fame. Lady P. 'Tis my honour that is concerned, and the violation was intended to me.-————— Your honour! you have none but what is in my keeping, and I can dispose of it when I please-therefore don't provoke me. Sir Paul. Hum, gads-bud, she says true-Well, my lady, march on, I will fight under you then; I am convinced as far as passion will permit. [Lady PLYANT and Sir PAUL come up to MELLEFONT. Lady P. Inhuman and treacherousSir Paul. Thou serpent, and first tempter of womankind! Cyn. Bless me, sir!-Madam, what mean you? Sir Paul. Thy, Thy, come away Thy, touch him not; come hither, girl; go not near him; there is nothing but deceit about him; snakes are in his peruke, and the crocodile of Nilus is in his belly; he will eat thee up alive. Lady P. Dishonourable, impudent creature! Mel. For Heaven's sake, madam, to whom do you direct this language? Lady P. Have I behaved myself with all the decorum and nicety befitting the person of Sir Paul's wife? Have I preserved my honour as it were in a snow-house for these three years past? Have I been white and unsullied even by Sir Paul himself? Sir Paul. Nay, she has been an invincible wife, even to me, that's the truth on't. Lady P. Have I, I say, preserved myself like a fair sheet of paper, for you to make a blot upon? Sir Paul. And she shall make a simile with any woman in England. Mel. I am so amazed, I know not what to say. Sir Paul. Do you think my daughter, this pretty creature- -gads-bud, she's a wife for a cherubin! -Do you think her fit for nothing but to be a stalking-horse, to stand before you while you take aim at my wife?- -Gads-bud, I was never angry before in my life, and I'll never be appeased again. Mel. Hell and damnation! this is my aunt; such malice can be engender'd no where else. [Aside. Lady P. Sir Paul, take Cynthia from his sight; leave me to strike him with the remorse of his intended crime. Cyn. Pray, sir, stay, hear him; I dare affirm he's innocent. Sir Paul. Innocent! Why, hark'ee, come hither, Thy; hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my sister Touchwood-Gads-bud, he does not care a farthing for any thing of thee, but thy portion; why, he's in love with my wife; he would have tantalized thee, and made a cuckold of thy poor father and that would certainly have broke my heart-I am sure if ever I should have horns they would kill me; they would never come kindly; I should die of them, like a child that was cutting his teeth-I should indeed, Thytherefore come away; but Providence has prevented all, therefore come away when I bid you. Cyn. I must obey. [Exit with Sir PAUL. Lady P. Oh, such a thing! the impiety of it startles me to wrong so good, so fair a creature, and one that loves you tenderlybarbarity of barbarities, and nothing could be guilty of it 'Tis a Mel. But the greatest villain imagination can form, I grant it; and next to the villainy of such a fact, is the villainy of aspersing me with the guilt.-How?-Which way was I to wrong her? For yet I understand you not. Lady P. Why, gads my life, cousin Mellefont, you cannot be so peremptory as to deny it, when I tax you with it to your face; for, now Sir Paul is gone, you are corum nobus. or Mel. By Heaven, I love her more than life, Lady P. Fiddle, faddle, don't tell me of this and that, and every thing in the world, but give me mathemacular demonstration, answer me directly- -But I have not patience- -Oh! the impiety of it, as I was saying, and the unparal leled wickedness!-O, merciful father!-How could you think to reverse nature so, to make the daughter the means of procuring the mother? Mel. The daughter to procure the mother! Lady P. Aye; for though I am not Cynthia's own mother, I am her father's wife, and that's near enough to make it incest. Mel. Incest!-O, my precious aunt, and the devil in conjunction! [Aside. Lady P. O, reflect on the horror of that, and then the guilt of deceiving every body-marrying the daughter, only to make a cuckold of the father; and then seducing me, debauching my purity, and perverting me from the road of virtue, in which I have trod thus long, and never made one trip, not one faux pas-O, consider it! what would you have to answer for, if you should provoke me to frailty? Alas! humanity is feeble, Heaven knows! very feeble, and unable to support itself. Mel. Where am I? Is it day? and am I awake? -Madam Lady P. And nobody knows how circumstances may happen together-To my thinking, now I could resist the strongest temptation-but yet, I know 'tis impossible for me to know whether Í could or not; there's no certainty in the things of this life. Mel. Madam, pray give me leave to ask you one question Lady P. O Lord, ask me the question! I'll swear I'll refuse it; I swear I'll deny it-therefore don't ask me; nay, you sha'n't ask me, I swear I'll deny it.-O, Gemini ! you have brought all the blood into my face; I warrant I'm as red as a turkey-cock; O fie, cousin Mellefont. Mel. Nay, madam, hear me; I meanLady P. Hear you! no, no; I'll deny you first, and hear you afterwards; for one does not know how one's mind may change upon hearingHearing is one of the senses, and all the senses are fallible; I won't trust my honour, I assure you; my honour is infallible and uncomatible. Mel. For Heaven's sake, madam Lady P. O, name it no more-Bless me, how can you talk of Heaven, and have so much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't think it' a sinthey say some of you gentlemen don't think it a sin—may be it is no sin to them that don't think it so; indeed, if I did not think it a sin- -but still my honour, if it were no sin but then to marry my daughter for the conveniency of frequent opportunities-I'll never con |