congregation-women. There's such a fuss and such a clatter about their devotion, that it makes more noise than all the bells in the parish.-Well, but what advantage can you make now of the picture? Mons. De advantage of ten tousan livres, pardie-Attendez-vous, madame; dis lady she die at Montpelier, in France; I ave de broder in dat city dat write me one account dat she die in dat city, and dat she send me dis picture as a legacy, wid a tousan baisemains to de dear marquis, de charmant marquis, mon cœur le marquis. Lure. Ay, here was devotion! here was discretion! here was fidelity! Mon cœur le marquis! Ha, ha, ha!-Well, but how will this procure the money? Mons. Now, madame, for de France politique. Lure. Ay, what is the French politic? Mons. Never to tell a secret to a voman.— Madame, je suis votre serviteur. [Runs off. Lure. Hold, hold, sir, we sha'n't part so; I will have it. [Follows. Enter STANDARD and FIREBALL. Fire. Hah! look! look! look you there, brother! See how they coquet it! Oh! there's a look! there's a simper! there's a squeeze for you! ay, now the marquis is at it. Mon cœur, ma foy, pardie, allons: Don't you see how the French rogue has the head, and the feet, and the hands, and the tongue, all going together? Stand. [Walking in disorder.] Where's my reason? Where's my philosophy? Where's my religion now? Fire. I'll tell you where they are ;—in your forehead, sir.- -Blood! I say revenge. Stand. But how, dear brother? Fire. Why, stab him, stab him now.--Italian him, Spaniard him, I say. Stand. Stab him! Why cuckoldom's a hydra that bears a thousand heads; and though I should cut this one off, the monster still would sprout. Must I murder all the fops in the nation, and, to save my head from horns, expose my neck to the halter? Fire. 'Sdeath, sir, cann't you kick and cuff? Kick one. Stand. Cane another. Fire. Cut off the ears of a third. Stand. Slit the nose of a fourth. Fire. Tear cravats. Stand. Burn perukes. Fire. Shoot their coach-horses. Stand. A noble plot.-But, now 'tis laid, how shall we put it in execution? For not one of these fellows stirs about without his guard-du-corps. Then they're stout as heroes; for I can assure you, that a beau with six footmen shall fight you or any gentleman in Christendom. Enter Servant. Ser. Sir, here's Mr Clincher below, who begs the honour to kiss your hand. Stand. Ay, why, here's another beau. Fire. Let him come, let him come; I'll shew you how to manage a beau presently. Stand. Hold, hold, sir; this is a simple inoffensive fellow, that will rather make us diversion. Fire. Diversion! ay. Why, I'll knock him down for diversion. Stand. No, no; pr'ythee be quiet; I gave him a surfeit of intriguing some months ago, before I was married.Here, bid him come up. He's worth your acquaintance, brother. Fire. My acquaintance! What is he? Stand. A fellow of a strange weathercock head, very hard, but as light as the wind; constantly full of the times, and never fails to pick up some humour or other out of the public revolutions, that proves diverting enough. Some time ago he had got the travelling maggot in his head, and was going to the jubilee upon all occasions; but lately, since the new revolution in Europe, another spirit has possessed him, and he runs stark mad after news and politics. Enter CLINCHER. Clin. News, news, colonel! great-Eh! what's this fellow? Methinks he has a kind of suspicious air. Your ear, colonel.-The pope's dead. Stand. Where did you hear it? [Whispering. Stand. Ha, ha, ha !--And why d'ye whisper it for a secret? Clin. Odso! Faith that's true-but that fellow there; what is he? Stand. My brother Fireball, just come home from the Baltic. Clin. Odso! noble captain, I'm your most humble and obedient servant, from the poop to the forecastle.-Nay, a kiss o't'other side, pray.— Now, dear captain, tell us the news.-Odso ! I'm so pleased I have met you! Well, the news, dear captain. You sailed a brave squadron of men of war to the Baltic.-Well, and what then? Eh! Fire. Why then- —we came back again. Clin. Did you, faith?-Foolish! foolish! very foolish a right sea captain-But what did you do? How did you fight? What storms did you meet? And what whales did you see? Fire. We had a violent storm off the coast of Jutland. Clin. Jutland! ay, that's part of Portugal.Well, and so,--you entered the Sound;-and you mauled Copenhagen, 'faith.--And then that pretty, dear, sweet, pretty king of Sweden!— what sort of a man is he, pray? Fire. Why, tall and slender. Clin. Tall and slender! much about my pitch? Heh! Fire. Not so gross, not altogether so low. Clin. No! I'm sorry for't; very sorry, indeed.- VOL. IV. E Here PARLY enters, and stands at the door ; CLINCHER beckons her with his hands behind, going backwards, and speaking to her and the gentlemen by turns.] Well, and what more? And so you bombarded Copenhagen! -[Mrs Parly.]-Whiz, slap went the bombs![Mrs Parly. And so-Well, not altogether so gross, you say [Here's a letter, you jade.]--Very tall, you say? Is the king very tall?-[Here's a guinea, you jade.]-[She takes the letter, and the colonel observes him.]—Hem, hem ! Colonel, I'm mightily troubled with the pthisick of late.-Hem, hem! a strange stoppage of my breast here. Hem! but now it is off again.--Well, but, captain, you tell us no news at all. Fire. I tell you one piece that all the world knows, and still you are a stranger to it. Clin. Bless me! what can this be? Fire. That you are a fool. Clin. Eh! witty, witty, sea captain. Odso! and I wonder, captain, that your understanding did not split your ship to pieces. Fire. Why so, sir? Clin. Because, sir, it is so very shallow, very shallow! There's wit for you, sir▬▬ Enter PARLY, who gives the Colonel a Letter. Odso! a letter! then there's news.--- -What, is it the foreign post ? What news, dear colonel ? What news? Hark ye, Mrs Parly. [He talks with PARLY, while the Colonel reads the letter. Stand. The son of a whore! Is it he? [Looks at CLINCHER. [Reads.]-'Dear madam, 'I was afraid to break open the seal of your letter, lest I should violate the work of your fair hands.'-Oh, fulsome fop!-'I therefore with the warmth of my kisses thawed it asunder.'-Ay, here's such a turn of style as takes a fine lady! 'I have no news, but that the pope's dead, and I have some packets upon that affair to send my correspondent in Wales; but I shall wave all business, and hasten to wait on you at the hour appointed, with the wings of a flying-post. Yours, Fire. A damned rogue. Fire. 'Sdeath! let me tear him to pieces. Stand. No, no, we'll manage him to more advantage. Take him with you to Locket's, and invent some way or other to fuddle him.Here, Mr Clincher, I have prevailed on my brother here to give you a particular account of the whole voyage to the Sound by his own journal, if you please to honour him with your company at Locket's. Clin. His own journal! Odso, let me see it. Stand. Shew it him. winds variable, courses per traverse, true course protracted, with all impediments allowed, is north forty-five degrees, west sixty miles, difference of latitude forty-two miles, departure west forty miles, latitude, per judgment, fifty-four degrees thirteen minutes, meridian distance current from the bearing of the land, and the latitude is eightyeight miles. -Odso! great news, faith.Let me see. At noon broke our main-top-sailyard, being rotten in the slings: two whales southward.- -Odso! a whale! great news, faith.-Come, come along, captain. But, d'ye hear? with this proviso, gentlemen, that I won't drink; for, hark'e, captain, between you and I, there's a fine lady in the wind, and I shall have the longitude and latitude of a fine lady, and the[Aside. Fire. A fine lady! ah, the rogue! Clin. Yes, a fine lady, colonel, a very fine lady.Come, no ceremony, good captain. [Exeunt FIREBALL and CLINCHER. Stand. Well, Mrs Parly, how go the rest of our affairs? Par. Why, worse and worse, sir: here's more mischief still, more branches a-sprouting. Stand. Of whose planting, pray? Par. Why, that impudent young rogue, Sir Harry Wildair's brother, has commenced his suit, and fee'd counsel already.-Look here, sir; two pieces, for which, by article, I am to receive four. Stand. 'Tis a hard case, now, that a man must give four guincas for the good news of his dishonour. Some men throw away their money in debauching other men's wives, and I lay out mine to keep my own honest: but this is making a man's fortune!Well, child, there's your pay; and I expect, when I come back, a true account how the business goes on. Par. But suppose the business be done before you come back? Stand. No, no; she ha'n't seen him yet; and her pride will preserve her against the first assaults. Besides, I sha'n't stay. [Exeunt STAND. and PAR. Enter WILDAIR and LUREWELL. Lure. Well now, Sir Harry, this book you gave me! as I hope to breathe, I think 'tis the best penned piece I have seen a great while; I don't know any of our authors have wrote in so florid and genteel a style. Wild. Upon the subject, madam, I dare affirm there is nothing extant more moving.-Look ye, madam, I am an author rich in expressions: the needy poets of the age may fill their works with rhapsodies of flames and darts, and barren sighs and tears, their speaking looks and amorous vows, that might, in Chaucer's time, perhaps, have passed for love; but now, 'tis only such as I can touch that noble passion, and by the true, persuasive cloquence, turned in the moving style of louis d'ors, can raise the ravished female to a rapture.—————In short, madam, I'll match Cowley in softness, o'ertop Milton in sublime, banter Cicero in eloquence, and Dr Swan in quibbling, by the help of that most ingenious society, called the Bank of England. Lure. Ay, Sir Harry, I begin to hate that old thing called love; they say 'tis clear out in France. Wild. Clear out, clear out; nobody wears it: and here too, honesty went out with the slashed doublets, and love with the close-bodied gowns. Love! 'tis so obsolete, so mean, and out of fashion, that I can compare it to nothing but the miserable picture of Patient Grizzel at the head of an old ballad--Faugh! Lure. Ha, ha, ha!-The best emblem in the world.-Come, Sir Harry, faith we'll run it down.-Love!--Ay, methinks I see the mournful Melpomene, with her handkerchief at her eye, her heart full of fire, her eyes full of water, her head full of madness, and her mouth full of nonsense.--Oh, hang it. Wild. Ay, madam. Then the doleful ditties, piteous plaints, the daggers, the poisons! Lure. Oh, the vapours! Wild. Then a man must kneel, and a man must swear-There is a repose, I see, in the [Aside. next room. Lure. Unnatural stuff. that the colonel cann't write French? Your time Wild. Shall I direct by way of Roan or Paris? Bun. Madam, I very much applaud your choice of a secretary; he understands the intrigues of most courts in Europe, they say. Enter WILDAIR, with a Letter. Wild. Here, madam, I presume 'tis right— Ban. Brother, your humble servant. Wild. Hey-day! how the fellow strings his genealogy! -Look ye, sir, you may be brother to Tom Thumb, for aught I know; but if you are my brother-I could have wished you in your mother's womb for an hour or two longer. [Aside. Ban. Sir, I received your letter at Oxford, with your commands to meet you in London; and if you can remember your own hand, there it is. [Gives a letter. Wild. [Looking over the letter.] Oh! pray, sir, let me consider you a little.--By Jupiter, Wild. Oh, madam, the most unnatural thing a pretty boy, a very pretty boy; a handsome face, in the world; as fulsome as a sack-posset, [Pull-good shape,--[Walks about, and views him]-well ing her towards the door] ungenteel as a wed- dressed-The rogue has got a leg too.-Come, child.- -Ay, he kisses like one of the ding-ring, and as impudent as the naked statue | kiss me, was in the Park. [Pulls her again. | family; the right velvet lip.-Canst thou dance, child? Lure. Ay, Sir Harry; I hate love that's impudent. These poets dress it up so in their trage. dies, that no modest woman can bear it. Your way is much the more tolerable, I must confess. Wild. Ay, ay, madam; I hate your rude whining and sighing; it puts a lady out of counte[Pulling her. Lure. Truly so it does.Hang their impudence. But where are we going? Wild. Only to rail at love, madam. nance. Enter BANTER. Ban. Hey! Who's here? [Pulls her in. [LUREWELL comes back. Lure. Pshaw! prevented by a stranger too! Had it been my husband now-Pshaw!-Very familiar, sir. [BANTER takes up WILDAIR's hat, that was dropped in the room. Ban. Madam, you have dropped your hat. Lure. Discovered too by a stranger!-What shall I do? Wild. [From within.]--Madam, you have got the most confounded pens here! Cann't you get the colonel to write the superscriptions of your letters for you? Lure. Bless me, Sir Harry! don't you know Ban. Ouy, monsieur. Lure. Hey-day! French too; why sure, sir, you could never be bred at Oxford! Ban. No, madam, my clothes were made in London-Brother, I have some affairs of consequence to communicate, which require a little privacy. Lure. Oh, sir! I beg your pardon; I'll leave you. Sir Harry, you'll stay supper? Wild. Assurement, madam. Ban. Yes, madam, we'll both stay. Wild. Both !-Sir, I'll send you back to your mutton-commons again. How now? Ban. No, no; I shall find better mutton-commons by messing with you, brother--Come, Sir Harry; if you stay, I stay; if you go, allons. to Wild. Why, the devil's in this young fellow.-Why, sirrah, hast thou any thoughts of being my heir? Why, you dog, you ought to pimp for me; you should keep a pack of wenches o' purpose hunt down matrimony. Don't you know, sir, that lawful wedlock in me is certain poverty to you? Look ye, sirrah, come along; and, for my disappointment just now, if you don't get me a new mistress to-night, I'll marry to-morrow, and won't leave you a groat.-Go, pimp, like a duti[Pushes him out, and exeunt. ful brother. SCENE I-A Tavern. ACT IV. Enter FIREBALL, hauling in CLINCHER. Fire. Come, sir; not drink the king's health! Clin. Pray, now, good captain, excuse me. Look here, sir; [Pulling out his watch] the critical minute, the critical minute, faith. Fire. What d'ye mean, sir? Clin. The lady's critical minute, sir-Sir, your humble servant. [Going. Fire. Well, the death of this Spanish king will- Clin. [Returning.] Eh! what's that of the Spanish king? tell me, dear captain, tell me. Fire. Sir, if you please to sit down, I'll tell you that old Don Carlos is dead. Clin. Dead!-Nay, then-[Sits down.]----Here, pen and ink, boy; pen and ink presently; I must write to my correspondent in Wales straightDead! [Rises, and walks about in disorder. Fire. What's the matter, sir? Clin. Politics, politics, stark mad with politics. Fire. 'Sdeath, sir, what have such fools as you to do with politics? Clin. What, sir, the succession!-not mind the succession! Fire. Nay, that's minded already; 'tis settled upon a prince of France. Clin. What, settled already! the best news that ever came into England. Come, captain, faith and troth, captain, here's a health to the succession. Fire. Burn the succession, sir. I won't drink it-What, drink confusion to our trade, religion, and liberties! Clin. Ay, by all means-As for trade, d'ye see, I'm a gentleman, and hate it mortally. These tradesmen are the most impudent fellows we have, and spoil all our good manners. What have we to do with trade? Stand. Here, boy, bring in the brandy-Fill. Clin. This is a piece of politics that I don't so well comprehend. Stand. Here, sir; now drink it off, or [Draws] expect your throat cut. Clin. Ay, this comes o' th' succession; fire and sword already. Stand. Come, sir, off with it. Clin. Pray, colonel, what have I done to be burned alive? Stand. Drink, sir, I say-Brother, manage him: I must be gone. [Aside to FIREBALL, and exit. Fire. Ay, drink, sir. Clin. Eh! what the devil, attacked both by sea and land!-Look ye, gentlemen, if I must be poisoned, pray let me chuse my own dose. Were I a lord now, I should have the privilege of the block; and as I'm a gentleman, pray, stifle me with claret at least! don't let me die like a bawd, with brandy. Fire. Brandy, you dog! abuse brandy! Flat treason against the navy royal!-Sirrah, I'll teach you to abuse the fleet-Here, Shark Fire. Here, Shark! Clin. Well, well, I will drink-The devil take Shark for me. [Drinks.] Whiz! buz!-Don't you hear it!-Put your ear to my breast, and hear how it whizzes like a hot iron-Eh! bless me, how the ship rolls!-I cann't stand upon my legs, faith-Dear captain, give me a kissAy, burn the succession- -Look ye, captain, I shall be sea-sick presently. [Falls into FIREBALL's arms. Enter SHARK and another, with a Chair. Fire. Here, in with him. Shark. Ay, ay, sirboy-No Nantz left Avast, avast- -Here, Fire. Bring him along. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Changes to LUREWELL'S Apart ment. Enter LUREWELL and PARLY. Lure. Did you ever see such an impudent young rogue as that Banter? He followed his brother up and down from place to place so very close, that we could not so much as whisper. Par. I reckon Sir Harry will dispose of him now, madam, where he may be secured. But I wonder, madam, why Clincher comes not, according to his letter; it is near the hour. Lure. I wish, Parly, that no harm may befal me to-day; for I had a most frightful dream last night: I'dream'd of a mouse. Par. 'Tis strange, madam, you should be so much afraid of that little creature, that can do you no harm. Lure. Look ye, girl, we women of quality have each of us some darling fright-I, now, hate a mouse; my lady Lovecards abhors a cat; Mrs Fiddlefan cann't bear a squirrel; the countess of Piquet abominates a frog; and my lady Swimair hates a man. Enter MARQUIS, running. Mar. Madam! madam! madam! Pardie voyez. -L'argent! l'argent! [Shews a bag of money. Lure. As I hope to breathe, he has got it! Well, but how, how, dear monsieur? Mar. Ah, madame! begar, Monsieur Sir Ary be one pigeaneau-Voyez, madame! me did tell him dat my broder in Montpelier did furnise his lady wid ten tousan livres for de expence of her travaille; and dat she not being able to write when she was dying, did give him the picture for de certificate and de credential to receive de money from her husband-Mark ye! Lure. The best plot in the world-You told him that your brother lent her the money in France, when her bills, I suppose, were delayed-You put in that, I presume? Mar. Ouy, ouy, madame. Lure. And that upon her death-bed she gave your brother the picture, as a certificate to Sir Harry that she had received the money; which picture your brother sent over to you, with commission to receive the debt. Mar. Assurement-Dere was de politique, de France politique!See, madame, what he can do, de France marquis! He did make de Anglise lady cuckle her husband when she was living, and sheat him when she was dead, begar. Ha, ha, ha!-Oh, pardie, c'est bon ! Lure. Ah! but what did Sir Harry say? Mar. Oh, begar, Monsieur Chevalier he love his wife; he say, dat if she takes up a hundre tousan livres, he would repay it: he knew de picture, he say, and order me de money from his stewar-Oh, Notre Dame! Monsieur Sir Arry be one dupe. one Lure. Well, but, monsieur, I long to know thing. Was the conquest you made of his lady so easy? What assaults did you make? and what resistance did she shew? Mar. Resistance against de France marquis! Voyez, madame; dere was tree deux yeux, one serenade, and two capre; dat was all, begar. Lure. Chatillionte! There's nothing in nature so sweet to a longing woman as a malicious story— Well, monsieur, 'tis about a thousand pound we go snacks. Mar. Snacke! Pardie, for what? Why snacke, madam? Me vill give you de present of fifty louis d'ors; dat is ver' good snacke for you. Lure. And you'll give me no more? Very well. Mar. Ver' well! yes, begar, 'tis ver' well.Consider, madame, me be de poor refugee; me 'ave nothing but de religious charité and de France politique, de fruit of my own address; dat is all. Lure. Ay, an object of charity, with a thousand pounds in his fist !-Emh!-[Knocking be loze.]-Oh, monsieur, that's my husband! I know his knock. He must not see you. Get into the closet till by and by; [Hurries him in] and if I don't be revenged upon your France politique, then have I no English politique-Hang the money! I would not for twice a thousand pounds forbear abusing this virtuous woman to her husband. Dick. Sir, sir! shall I order your chair to the back-door by five o'clock in the morning? Wild. The devil's in the fellow! Get you gone -[DICKY runs out.] Now, dear madam, I have secured my brother, you have disposed of the colonel, and we'll rail at love till we ha'n't word more to say. Lure. Ay, Sir Harry.-Please to sit a little, sir.-You must know I'm in a strange humour of asking you some questions.-How did you like your lady, pray, sir? Wild. Like her! Ha, ha, ha!—So very well, faith, that for her very sake I'm in love with every woman I meet. ly? Lure. And did matrimony please you extreme Wild. So very much, that if polygamy were al lowed, I would have a new wife every day. |