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Mel. What dost thou mean?
about; but I made love a great while to no purMask. Listen, and be dumb-we have been pose. bargaining about the rate of your ruin
Mel, Why, what's the matter? she is convinMel. Like any two guardians to an orphanced that I don't care for her. heiress_Well.
Care. I cannot get an answer from her, that Mask. And whereas pleasure is generally paid does not begin with her honour, or her virtue, her with mischief, what inischief I do is to be paid | religion, or some such cant. Then, she has told with pleasure.
me the whole story of sir Paul's nine year's courtMel. So, when you're swallowed the potion, ship; how he has lain, for whole nights together, you sweeten your mouth with a plumb.
upon the stairs before her chamber-door; and Mask. You are merry, sir, but I shall probe that the first favour he received from her was a your constitution.
In short, the price of your ba- piece of an old scarlet petticoat for a stomacher; nishment is to be paid with the person of which, since the day of his marriage, he has, out
Mel. Of Cynthia, and her fortune—why, you of a piece of gallantry, converted into a nightforget you told me this before.
cap, and wears it still with much solemnity on Mask. No, no—so far, you are right; and I his anniversary wedding night. am, as an earnest of that bargain, to have full Mel. That I have seen, with the ceremony and free possession of the person of -your thereunto belonging—for, on that night, he creeps
in at the bed's feet, like a gulled bassa that has Mlel. Ha! Pho, you trifle.
married a relation of the grand signior. I wonMask. By this light, I am serious; all raillery der he never told you his grievances; he will, I apart--I knew 'twould stun you : this evening, at
warrant you. eight, she will receive me in her bed-chamber. Care. Excessively foolish! but that, which
Mel. Hell and the devil! is she abandoned of gives me most hopes of her, is her telling me of all grace—why? the woman is possessed the many temptations she has resisted. Mask. Well, will you go in my stead?
Mel. Nay, then you have her; for a woman's Mel. By Heaven, into a hot furnace sooner! bragging to a man, that she has overcome tempt
Mask. No, you would not it would not be so ations, is an argument, that they were weakly ofconvenient, as I can order matters.
fered, and a challenge to him to engage her more Mel. What do you mean?
irresistibly. 'Tis only an enhancing the price of Mask. Mean! not to disappoint the lady, I as- the commodity, hy telling you how many customsure you-Ha, ha, ha! how gravely he looks- ers have underbid her. come, come, I won't perplex you. 'Tis the oniy Care. Nay, I dont despair—but still she has a thing that Providence could have contrived to grudging to you—I talked to her t’other night at make me capable of serving you, either to my in- my lord Froth’s masquerade, when I am satisfied clination, or your own necessity.
she knew me, and I had no reason to complain of Mel. How, how, for Heaven's sake, dear Mask- my reception; but I find women are not the same well?
bare-faced, and in masks—and a vizor disguises Mask. Why thus—I'll go according to appoint- their inclinations as much as their faces. ment; you shall have notice, at the critical mi Mel. Here they come. I'll leave you. Ply nute, to come and surprize your aunt and me to her close, and by and by clap a billet-doux into gether; counterfeit a rage against me, and I will her hand : for a woman never thinks a man truly make my escape through the private passage in love with her, till he has been fool enough to fronı her chamber, which I will take care to leave think of her out of her sight, and to lose so much open: 'twill be hard, if then you can't bring her time as to write to her. to any conditions. For this discovery will dis
[Exit MELLEFONT. arm her of all defence, and leave her entirely at your mercy: nay, she must ever after be in awe
Enter Sir Paul and Lady PLYANT. Mel. Let me adore thee, my better genius! Sir Paul. Shan't we disturb your meditation, by Heaven, I think it is not in the power of Fate Mr Careless? You would be in private? to disappoint my hopes—my hopes! my cer
Care. You bring that along with you, sir Paul, tainty.
that shall be always welcome to my privacy, Mask. Well, I'll meet you here within a quar Sir Paul. O, sweet sir! you load your humter of eight, and give you notice.
ble servants, both me and my wife, with conti
[Exit MASKWELL. nual favours. Hel. Good fortune ever go along with thee. Lady Ply. Sir Paul, what a phrase was there!
You will be making answers, and taking that upEnter CARELESS.
on you, which ought to lie upon me: that you Care. Mellefont, get out of the way; my lady should have so little breeding to think Mr CarePlyant's coming, and I shall never succeed, while less did not apply himself to me! Pray, what chou art in sight--though she begins to tack have you to entertain any body's privacy? I swear.
and declare, in the face of the world, I am ready thank Heaven, in a fine way of living, as I may to blush for your ignorance.
say, peacefully and happily, and I think need not Sir Paul. I acquiesce, my lady; but don't snubenvy any of 'my neighbours, blessed be Proviso loud.
dence-Aye, truly, Mr Careless, my lady is a
[Aside to her. yreat blessing; a fine, discreet, well-spoken woLady Ply. Mr Careless, if a person, that is inan as you shall see-if it becomes me to say wholly illiterate, might be supposed to be capa so; and we live very comfortably together; she is ble of being qualitied to make a suitable return a little hasty sometimes, and so am I; but mine is to those obligations, which you are pleased to soon over; and then, I am so sorry-Oh, Mr Careconfer upon one that is wholly incapable of be- less, if it were not for one thinging qualified in all those circumstances, I am sure I should rather attempt it than any thing in the
Enter Boy, with a letter. world-(Courtesies —for I ain sure there is no thing in the world that I would rather. [Cour Lady Ply. How often have you been told of tesies.]
But I know Mr Careless is so great a that, you jackanapes? critic, and so fine a gentleman, that it is impossi Sir Paul. Gad so, gads-bud-Tim, carry ble for me
it to my lady; you should have carried it my lady Care. Oh, Heavens! Madam, you confound first. me.
Boy. 'Tis directed to your worship. Sir Paul. Gad's bud, she is a fine person Sir Paul. Well, well, my lady reads all letLady Ply. O lord ! sir, pardon me :
ters first -Child, do so no inore; d'ye bear, men have not those advantages : I know my own
Tim? imperfections_but, at the same time, you must Boy. No, and please you.
Erit. give me leave to declare, in the face of the Sir Paul. A humour of my wife's; you know world, that nubody is more sensible of favours women have little fancies But as I was teland things; for, with the reserve of my honour, ling you, Mr Careless, if it were not for one I assure you, Mr Careless, I don't know anything, I should think myself the happiest man in thing in the world I would refuse to a person so
the world; indeed, thai touches nie near, very meritorious -You'll pardon my want of expression.
Care. Wbat can that be, sir Paul? Cure. Oh, your ladyship is abounding in all ex Sir Paul. Why, I have, I thank Heaven, a very cellence, particularly that of phrase.
plentiful fortune, a good estate in the country, Lady Ply. You are so obliging, sir.
some houses in town, and some money, a pretty Cure. Your ladyship is so charming.
tolerable personal estate; and it is a great grief Sir Puul. So, now, now ; now, my lady. to me, indeed it is, Mr Careless, that I have not Ludy Ply. So well bred.
a son to inherit this. 'Tis true, I have a daughCare. So surprizing.
ter, and a find dutiful child she is, though I say Lady Ply. So well drest, so bonne mien, so it, blessed be Providence I may say ; for indeed, eloquent, so unaffected, so easy, so free, so par Mr Careless, I am mightily beholden to Proviticular, so agreeable
dence-A poor unworthy sinner, But if I had a Sir Faul. Aye, so, so, there.
a son, ah ! that's my affliction, and my ouly Care. () lord ! I beseech you, madam, don't affliction ; indeed, I cannot refrain tears, when it
Lady Ply. So gay, su graceful, so good teeth, comes into my mind. so fine shape, so tine limbs, so tine linen, and I Care. Why, methinks that might be easily redon't doubt but you have a very good skin, sir. mcdied; my lady is a fine likely wornan.
Cure. For Heaven's sake, madam-I am quite Sir Paul. Oh, a fine likely woman as you shall out of countenance.
see in a summer's day
-Indeed she is, Sir Paul. And my lady's quite out of breath ; | Mr Careless, in all respects. or else you should hear
Gad's bud, you may
Care. And I should not have taken you to talk of my lady l'roth.
have been so oldCare. O ty, fy! not to be named of a day—my Sir Paul. Alas! that's not it, Mr Careless : ah! lady I roth is very well in her accomplishments that's not it; no, no; you shoot wide of the mark but it is, when my lady Plyant is not thought of - a mile; indeed you do; that's not it, Mr Careless; if that can ever be.
no, no; that's not it. Ludy Ply. Oh, you overcome me - that is so Care. No? what can be the matter, then? excessive.
Sir Paul. You'll scarcely believe me, when I Sir Paul. Nay, I swear and vow that was shall tell you—my lady is so nice-It is pretty.
very strange, but it is true : too true-she Care. Oh, sir Paul, you are the happiest man so very nice, that I don't believe she alive. Such a lady! that is the envy of her own would touch a man for the world. -Insex, and the admiration of ours !
deed, it is true, Mr Careless, it breaks my Sir Paul. Your humble servant; I am, I heart-I am her husband, as I may say
and that gang:
though far unworthy of that bonour, yet I am
Enter Boy, and whispers Sur PAUL, her husband; but alas-a-day! I have no more familiarity with her person-than with my own Sir Paul. Gad so— Wife, Wife! my lady mother__no, indeed.
Plyant ! I have a wordCare. Alas-a-day! this is a lamentable story; Lady Ply. I am busy, sir Paul; I wonder at my lady must be told of it; she must, in faith, your impertinencesir Paul; 'tis an injury to the world.
Care. Sir Paul, harkee! I am reasoning the Sir Paul. Ah! would to Heaven you would, matter you know : Madam, if your Ladyship Mr Careless ! you are mightily in her favour. please, we'll discourse of this in the next room.
Care. I warrant you ; what! we must have a [Ereunt LADY Plyant and CARELESS. son some way or other.
Sir Paul. O ho! I wish you good success; Sir Paul. Indeed, I should be mightily bound to I wish you good success. Boy, tell my lady, you, if you could bring it about, Mr Careless. when she has done, I would speak with her beLady Ply. Here, sir Paul, it is from your low.
[Erit Sir Paul. steward; here's a return of 6001. you may take fifty of it for the next half-year.
Enter Lady Froth and BRISK. (Gives him the letter. Lady Froth. Then, you think that episode
between Susan the dairy-maid, and our coachEnter LORD FROTH and CYNTHIA.
man, is not amiss ; you know, I may sup
pose the dairy in town, as well as the country. Sir. Paul. How does my girl? Come hither to Brisk. Incomparable, let me perish! But thy father, poor lamb; thou art melancholic. then, being an heroic poem, had you not better
"Lord Froth. Heaven, sir Paul, you amaze call him a charioteer? Charioteer sounds great : me of all things in the world—You are besides, your ladyship's coachman having a red never pleased but when we are all upon the face, and you comparing him to the sun broad grin; all laugh and no company; ah! And you know the sun is called Heaven's charithen 'tis such a sight to see some teethsure you are a great admirer of my lady Lady Froth. Oh, infinitely better ! I am exWhifler, Mr Sneer, and sir Laurence Loud, tremely beholden to you for the hint; stay, we'll
read over those half a score lines again. [Pulls Sir Paul. I vow and swear she is a very out a paper.] Let me see here; you know what merry woman; but I think she laughs a little too goes before -the coinparison, you know. much.
[Reads.] Lord Froth. Merry! O lord, what a cha * For as the sun shines every day, racter that is of a woman of quality You So, of our coachman, I may say.' have been at my lady Whifler's upon her day, madam?
Brisk. I am afraid that simile won't do in wet Cyn. Yes, my lord-I must humour this fool. weather-Because you say the sun shines every
[ Aside. day. Lord Froth. Well and how ? hee! What is Lady Froth. No, for the sun it won't, but your sense of the conversation ?
it will do for the coachman; for you know Cyn. O, most ridiculous, a perpetual concert there's most'occasion for a coach in wet weathof laughing without any harmony; for sure, my er. lord, to laugh out of time, is as disagreeable as Brisk. Right, right; that saves all. to sing out of time, or out of tune.
Lady Froth. Then, I don't say
the sun shines Lord Froth. Hec, hee, hee! right; and then all the day, but that he peeps now and then; yet my lady Whifler is so ready-she always comes he does shine all the day too, you know, though in threč bars too soon--And then, what do they we don't see him. laugh at ? For you know laughing without a jest Brisk. Right, but the vulgar will never comis as impertinent, hee! as
prehend that. Cyn. As dancing without a fiddle.
Lady Froth. Well, you shall hear-Let me Lord Froth. Just, in faith! that was at my see.
[Reads.] tongue's end.
• For as the sun shines every day, Cyn. But that cannot be properly said of them; • So of our coachman I may say; for I think they are all in good nature with the • He shews his drunken fiery face, world, and only laugh at one another; and
Just as the sun does, more or less.'
Lord Froth. True, as I am a person of hon Lady Froth. [Reads.]
. Then too, like Heaven's charioteer, the sun :
Ay, charioteer does better.
Brisk. I know whom you mean—But deuce * Into the dairy he descends,
take me, I cannot hit of her name neither* And there his whipping and’his driving ends. Paints, d'ye say? Why, she lays it on with a
There, he's secure from danger of a bilk, trowel -Then she has a great beard that * His fare is paid him, and he sets in milk.' bristles through it, and makes her look as if For Susan, you know, is Thetis, and so
she were plastered with lime and hair, let me Brisk. Incomparable well and proper, 'egad- perish. But I have one exception to make-Don't Lady Froth. Oh, you made a song upon her, you think bilk (I know it is good rhyme) but Mr Brisk. don't you
think bilk and fare too like a hackney Brisk. He ! 'egad so I didMy lord can coachman ?
sing it. 'Tis not a song neither It is a sort Lady Froth. I swear and vow I am afraid so of an epigram, or rather an epigrammatic
-And yet our Jehu was a hackney coach- sonnet; I don't know what to call it, but it is man, when my lord took him.
satire. Brisk. Was he? I am answered, if Jehu was a hackney coachman--You may put that in the
Lord Froth sings marginal notes, though, to prevent criticism--Only, mark it with a small asterism, and say---Jehu
Ancient Phillis has young graces, was formerly a hackney coachman.
'Tis a strange thing, but a true one ; Lady Froth. I will; you'll oblige me extreme Shall I tell you how ? ly to write notes to the whole poem.
She herself makes her own faces, Brisk. With all my heart and soul, and proud And each morning wcars a new one, of the vast honour, let me perish.
Where's the wonder now ? Lord Froth. Hee, hee, hee! my dear, have
-Won't you join with us? we Brisk. Short, but there is salt in it; my way were laughing at my lady Whifler and Mr Sneer. of writing, 'egad. Lady Froth. -Ay, my dear
-Were you? Oh filthy Mr Sneer! he's a nauseous
Enter Foolman. figure, a most fulsamic fop! foh!
-He spent two days together in going about Covent-Garden Lady Froth. How now? to suit the lining of his coach with his com Foot. Your Ladyship's chair is come. plexion.
Lady Froth. Is nurse and the child in it? Lord Froth. O silly! yet his aunt is as fond of Foot. Yes, Madam.
[Erit. him as if she had brought the ape into the world Lady Froth.O, the dear creature! let us go see it. herself.
Lord Froth. I swear, my dear, you'll spoil Brisk. Who, my lady Toothless ? O, she's that child with sending it to and again so often; mortifying spectacle ! she's always chewing the this is the seventh time the chair has gone for her cud, like an old ewe.
to-day. Cyn. Fy, Mr Brisk ! ering, is for her cough. Lady Froth. O la! I swear it's but the sixth
Lady Froth. I have seen her take them, half- and I han't seen her these two hours The chewed, out of her mouth to laugh, and then put poor dear creature -I swear, my lord, you them in again-Foh !
don't love poor little Sappho,
-Come, my dear Lord Froth. Foh !
Cynthia, Mr Brisk, we'll go see Sappho, though Lady Froth. Then she is always ready to my lord won't. laugh when Sneer offers to speak--and sits in Cyn. I'll wait upon your ladyship. expectation of his no jest, with her gums bare, Brisk. Pray, madam, how old is lady Sappho ? and her mouth open
Lady Froth. Three quarters; but I swear Brisk. Like an oyster at low ebb, 'egad— Ha, she has a world of wit, and can sing a tune ha, ha!
already. My lord, won't you go? Won't you? Lady Froth. Then, that t'other great strapping What, not to see Saph ? Pray, my lord, come lady -I cannot hit of her name; the old fat see little Saph. I knew you could not stay. fool that paints so exorbitantly.
A CT IV.
Lady Ply. O, you have conquered, sweet,
melting, moving sir! you have conquered—What Enter CARELESS and LADY PLYANT.
heart of marble can refrain to weep, and yield to Lady Ply. I swear, Mr Careless, you are very such sad sayings.
[Cries. alluring—and say so many fine things—and no Care. I thank Heaven, they are the saddest thing is so moving to me as a fine thing. Well, that I ever said-Oh!
[Aside. I must do you this justice, and declare, in the Lady Ply. Oh, I yield myself all up to your face of the world, never any body gained so far uncontroulable embraces (say, thou dear dying upon me as yourself; with blushes I must own man, when, where, and how ? it, you have shaken, as I may say,
foun Care, 'Slife, yonder's sir Paul! but if he were dation of my honour-Well, sure, if I escape not come, I am so transported, I cannot speakyour importunities, I shall value myself as long This note will inform you. as I live, I swear.
[Gives her a note. Erit. Care. And despise me.
Enter Sir Paul and CYNTHIA, Lady Ply. The last of any man in the world, by my purity! now you make me swear–0, Sir Paul. Thou art my tender lambkin, and gratitude forbid, that I should ever be wanting shalt do what thou wilt-But endeavour tó forin a respectful acknowledgment of an entire re get this Mellefont. signation of all my best wishes for the person Cyn. I would obey you to my power, sir; but and parts of so accomplished a person, whose if I have not him, I have sworn never to marry. merit challenges much more, I am sure, than my Sir Paul. Never to marry! Heavens forbid ! illiterate praises can description !
Must I neither have sons nor grandsons? Must Care. (In a whining tone.] Ah, heavens, ma the family of the Plyants be utterly extinct for dam! you
ruin me with kindness; your charming want of issue male? Oh, impiety! But did you tongue pursues the victory of your eyes, while, at swear? did that sweet creature swear! ha? How your feet, your poor adorer dies.
durst you swear without my consent, ah? GadsLudy Ply. Ah! very fine.
bud, who am I? Care. (Si ill whining.) Ah! why are you so fair, Cyn. Pray don't be angry, sir; when I swore, I so bewitching fair? O, let me grow to the ground had your consent, and therefore I swore. here, and feast upon that hand! 0, let me press Sir Paul. Why, then, the revoking my consent it to my heart, my trembling heart! the nimble does annul, or make of none effect, your oath; movement shall instruct your pulse, and teach it so you may vnswear it again-The law will allow to alarm desire. Zoons, I am almost at the end it. of my cant, if she does not yield quickly. (Aside. Cyn. Ay, but my conscience never will.
Lady Ply. O, that is so passionate and fine, I Sir Paul. Gads-bud, no matter for that; concannot hear it-I am not safe if I stay, and inust science and law never go together; you must not
Care. And must you leave me! Rather let me Lady Ply, Ay, but sir Paul, I conceive, if she languish out a wretched life, and breathe my soul has sworn, do ye mark me, if she has once sworn, beneath your feet-I must say the same thing it is most unchristian, inhuman, and obscene, that over again, and cannot help it.
[ Aside. she should break it. I'll make up the match Lady Ply. I swear I am ready to languish, too again, because Mr Careless said it would oblige O my honour! Whither is it going? I pro
[Aside. test you have given me the palpitation of the Sir Paul. Does your ladyship conceive so?-heart.
Why, I was of that opinion once, too-Nay, if Care. Can you be so cruel ?
your ladyship conceives so, I am of that opinion Lady Ply. O rise! I beseech you, say no more again; but I can neither find my lord nor my latill you rise-Why did you kneel so long? I dy, to know what they intend. swear I was so transported I did not see it Lady Ply. I am satisfied that my cousin MelWell, to shew you how far you have gained upon
lefont has been much wronged. me, I assure you, if sir Paul should die, of all Cyn. [Aside.] I am amazed to find her of our mankind there is none I would sooner make my side, for I am sure she loved him. second choice.
Ludy Ply. I know my lady Touchwood has no Care. O Ileaven! I cannot outlive this night kindness for him; and besides, I have been inwithout your favour I feeliny spirits faint; a formed by Mr Careless, that Mellefont had negeneral dampness overspreads my face; a cold ver any thing more than a profound respectdradly dew already vents through all my pores,
That he has owned hiinself to be my admiand will to-morrow waslı me, for ever, from your rer, it is true; but he was never so presumpsight, and drown me in my tomb.
tuvus to entertain any dishonourable notion of