Dick. No, no; the rogue has murdered your brother, and stripped him of his clothes." Clin. Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, my poor jubilee brother! Stay-by Jupiter Ammon, I'm heir, though. Speak, sir, have you killed him? Confess that you have killed him, and I'll give you half a crown. Err. Who, I, sir? Alack-a-day, sir! I never killed any man but a carrier's horse once. Clin. Then you shall certainly be hanged; but confess that you killed him, and we'll let you go. Err. Telling the truth hangs a man, but confessing a lie can do no harm: besides, if the worst come to the worst, I can but deny it again. Well, sir, since I must tell you, I did kill him. Clin. Here's your money, sir. But are you sure you killed him dead? Err. Sir, I'll swear it before any judge in England. Dick. But are you sure that he's dead in law? Err. Dead in law! I cannot tell whether he be dead in law. But he's as dead as a door-nail; for I gave him seven knocks on the head with a hammer. Dick. Then you have the estate by statute. Any man that's knocked o' the head is dead in law. Clin. But are you sure he was compos mentis when he was killed? Err. I suppose he was, sir; for he told me nothing to the contrary afterwards. Clin. Hey! Then I go the Jubilee. Strip, sir, strip! By Jupiter Ammon, strip! Dick. Ah! don't swear, sir. [Puts on his brother's clothes. Clin. Swear, sir! Zoons, ha'n't I got the estate, sir? Come, sir, now I'm in mourning for my brother. Err. I hope you'll let me go now, sir. Clin. Yes, yes, sir, but you must do me the favour to swear positively before a magistrate, that you killed him dead, that I may enter upon the estate without any trouble. By Jupiter Ammon! all my religion's gone since I put on these fine clothes-Hey, call me a coach! somebody. Err. Ay, master, let me go, and I'll call one immediately. Clin. No, no; Dicky, carry this spark before a justice, and, when he has made oath, you may discharge him. And I'll go see Angelica. [Exeunt DICK and ERRAND.] Now that I'm an elder Enter LUREWELL and PARLY. Lure. Are you sure that Vizard had my letter? Par. Yes, yes, madam; one of your ladyship's footmen gave it to him in the park, and he told the bearer, with all transports of joy, that he would be punctual to a minute. Lure. Thus, most villains, some time or other, are punctual to their ruin; and hypocrisy, by imposing on the world, at last deceives itself. Are all things prepared for his reception? Par. Exactly to your ladyship's order: the alderman, too, is just come, dressed and cooked up for iniquity. Lure. Then he has got woman's clothes on? Par. Yes, madam, and has passed upon the family for your nurse. Lure. Convey him into that closet, and put out the candles, and tell him, I'll wait on him presently. As PARLY goes to put out the candles, somebody knocks.] Music plays without. Wild. Fierce, as when ripe consenting beauty fires. Is't not so? Lure. Oh, villain! What privilege have men to our destruction, that thus they hunt our ruin? [Aside.] If this be a love-token, [WILDAIR drops a ring, she takes it up.] your mistress's favours hang very loose about you, sir. Wild. I can't, justly, madam, pay your trouble of taking it up, by any thing but desiring you to wear it. Lure. You gentlemen have the cunningest ways of playing the fool, and are so industrious in your profuseness. Speak seriously; am I beholden to chance, or design, for this ring? Wild. To design, upon my honour. hope my design will succeed. And I [Aside. Lure. And what shall I give you for such a fine thing? Wild. You'll give me another; you'll give me another fine thing. [Both sing. Lure. Shall I be free with you, sir Harry? Wild. With all my heart, madam, so I may be free with you. Lure. Then, plainly, sir, I shall beg the favour to see you some other time: for, at this very minute, I have two lovers in the house. Wild. Then to be plain, I must be gone this minute, for I must see another mistress within these two hours. Lure. Frank and free! Wild. As you with me-Madam, your most humble servant. [Exit. Lure. Nothing can disturb his humour. Now for my merchant and Vizard. [Exit, and takes the candles with her. Enter PARLY, leading in SMUGGLER, dressed in women's clothes. Par. This way. Mr Alderman. Smug. Well, Mrs Parly-I'm obliged to you for this trouble: here are a couple of shillings for you. Times are hard, very hard indeed!-but next time I'll steal a pair of silk stockings from my wife, and bring them to you-What are you fumbling about my pockets for? Par. Only setting the plaits of your gown :here, sir, get into this closet, and my lady will wait on you presently. [Puts him into the closet, runs out, and returns with VIZARD. Viz. Where wouldst thou lead me, my dear auspicious little pilot? Par. You're almost in port, sir; my lady's in the closet, and will come out to you immediately. Viz. Let me thank thee as I ought. [Kisses her. Par. Pshaw! who has hired me best? a couple of shillings, or a couple of kisses? Viz. Propitious darkness guides the lover's steps, and night, that shadows outward sense, lights up our inward joy. Night! the great awful ruler of mankind, which, like the Persian monarch, hides its royalty to raise the veneration of the world. Under thy easy reign dissemblers may speak truth: all slavish forms and ceremonies laid aside, and generous villainy may act without constraint. Smug. [Peeping out of the closet.] Bless me! what voice is this? Viz. Our hungry appetites, like the wild beasts of prey, now scour about to gorge their craving maws; the pleasure of hypocrisy, like a chained lion, once broke loose, wildly indulges its new freedom, ranging through all unbounded joys. Smug. My nephew's voice, and certainly possessed with an evil spirit; he talks as profanely as an actor possessed with a poet. Viz. Ha! I hear a voice. Madam—my life, my happiness! where are you, madam? Smug. Madam! He takes me for a woman too: I'll try him. Where have you left your sanctity, Mr Vizard? Viz. Talk no more of that ungrateful subject -I left it where it has only business, with daylight; 'tis needless to wear a mask in the dark. Smug. Oh, the rogue, the rogue!--The world takes you for a very sober, virtuous gentleman. Viz. Ay, madam, that adds security to all my pleasure. With me a cully 'squire may squander his estate, and ne'er be thought a spendthriftWith me a holy elder may zealously be drunk, and toast his tuneful nose in sack, to make it hold forth clearer--But what is most my praise, the formal rigid she, that rails at vice and men, with me secures her loosest pleasures, and her strictest honour-She who, with scornful mien, and virtuous pride, disdains the name of whore, with me can wanton, and laugh at the deluded world. Smug. How have I been deceived! Then you are very great among the ladies? Viz. Yes, madam, they know that, like a mole in the earth, I dig deep, but invisible; not like those fluttering noisy sinners, whose pleasure is the proclamation of their faults; those empty flashes, who no sooner kindle, but they must blaze to alarm the world. But come, madam, you delay our pleasures. Smug. He surely takes me for the lady Lurewell-she has made him an appointment too but I'll be revenged of both. Well, sir, what are those you are so intimate with? Viz. Come, come, madam, you know very well those who stand so high, that the -I wish that I were safe within vulgar envy even their crimes, whose figure | mischief- Smug. I'm very lovely and soft indeed! You shall find me much harder than you imagine, friend.- -Well, sir, but I suppose your dissimulation has some other motive besides pleasure? Viz. Yes, madam, the honestest motive in the world-interest-You must know, madam, that I have an old uncle, Alderman Smuggler; you have seen him, I suppose? Smug. Yes, yes, I have some small acquaintance with him. Viz. Tis the most knavish, precise, covetous old rogue, that ever died of the gout. Smug. Ah, the young son of a whore! Well, sir, and what of him? Viz. Hell hungers not more for wretched souls, than he for ill-got pelf: and yet (what's wonderful), he that would stick at no profitable villany himself, loves holiness in another. He prays all Sunday for the sins of the week past; he spends all dinner-time in two tedious graces; and what he designs a blessing to the meat, proves a curse to his family; he's the mostSmug. Well, well, sir, I know him very well. Viz. Then, madam, he has a swinging estate, which I design to purchase as a saint, and spend like a gentleman. He got it by cheating, and should lose it by deceit. By the pretence of my zeal and sobriety, I'll cozen the old miser, one of these days, out of a settlement and deed of conveyance Smug. It shall be a deed to convey you to the gallows, then, ye young dog. [Aside. Viz. And no sooner he's dead, but I'll rattle over his grave with a coach and six, to inform his covetous ghost how genteelly I spend his money. Smug. I'll prevent you, boy; for I'll have my money buried with me. [Aside. Viz. Bless me, madam! here's a light coming this way. I must fly immediately.shall I see you, madam? -When Smug. Sooner than you expect, my dear. Viz. Pardon me, dear madam, I would not be seen for the world. I would sooner forfeit my life, my pleasure, than my reputation. [Exit. Smug. Reputation, reputation! That poor word suffers a great deal-Well, thou art the most accomplished hypocrite that ever made a grave plodding face over a dish of coffee and a pipe of tobacco. He owes me for seven years maintenance, and shall pay me by seven years imprisonment; when I die, I'll leave him the fee-simple of a rope and a shillingWho are these? I begin to be afraid of some [Stands close. Enter BUTLER, with other Servants and lights. But. I say there are two spoons wanting, and I'll search the whole house. Two spoons will be no small gap in my quarter's wages. Serv. When did you miss them, James? But. Miss them? why, I miss them nowIn short, they must be among you; and if you don't return them, I'll go to the cunning man tomorrow morning- -My spoons I want, and my spoons I will have. Serv. Come, come, search about. [Search, and discover SMUGGLER. But. Hark'e, good woman, what makes you hide yourself? What are you ashamed of? Smug. Ashamed of! Oh, lord, sir, I'm an honest old woman, that never was ashamed of any thing. But. What, are you a midwife, then? Speak, did not you see a couple of stray spoons in your travels? Smug. Stray spoons ! But. Ay, ay, stray spoons. In short, you stole them; and I'll shake your old limbs to pieces, if you don't deliver them presently. Smug. Bless me! a reverend elder of seventy years old accused for petty larceny!Why, search me, good people, search me; and if you find any spoons about me, you shall burn me for a witch. But. Ay, we will search you, mistress. [They search, and pull the spoons out of his pocket. Smug. Oh, the devil, the devil! But. Where, where is he! Lord bless us ! she is a witch in good earnest, may be. Smug. Oh, it was some devil, some CoventGarden, or St. James's devil, that put them in my pocket. But. Ay, ay, you shall be hanged for a thief, burned for a witch, and then carted for a bawd. Speak, what are you? Enter LUREWELL. Smug. I'm the lady Lurewell's nurse. But. Here is an old succubus, madam, that has stole two silver spoons, and says she is your nurse. Lure. My nurse! Oh, the impudent old jade! I never saw the withered creature before. Smug. Then I'm finely caught-Oh, madam, madam, don't you know me? Don't you remember buss and guinea? Lure. Was ever such impudence! I know thee!--Why, thou'rt as brazen as a bawd in the side-box. Take her before a justice, and then të Newgate; away! Smug. Oh, consider, madam, that I'm an alder- | honour, old satyr? Away with him! man! Lure. Consider, sir, that you're a compound of covetousness, hypocrisy, and knavery, and must be punished accordingly. You must be in petticoats, gouty monster! must ye? You must buss and guinea, too? you must tempt a lady's SCENE I-LADY DARLING's house. ACT Enter DARLING and ANGELICA. Dar. DAUGHTER, since you have to deal with a man of so peculiar a temper, you must not think the general arts of love can secure him; you may therefore allow such a courtier some encouragement extraordinary, without reproach to your modesty. Ang. I am sensible, madam, that a formal nicety makes our modesty sit awkward, and appears rather a chain to enslave, than a bracelet to adorn us; it should shew, when unmolested, easy and innocent as a dove, but strong and vigorous as a falcon, when assaulted. Dar. I'm afraid, daughter, you mistake sir Harry's gaiety for dishonour. Ang. Though modesty, madam, may wink, it must not sleep, when powerful enemies are abroad. I must confess, that, of all men's, I would not see sir Harry Wildair's faults; nay, I could wrest his most suspicious words a thousand ways, to make them look like honour. But, madam, in spite of love, I must hate him, and curse those practices which taint our nobility, and rob all virtuous women of the bravest men Dar. You must certainly be mistaken, Angelica; for I'm satisfied sir Harry's designs are only to court and marry you. Ang. His pretence, perhaps, was such; but women, now, like enemies, are attacked; whether by treachery, or fairly conquered, the glory of the triumph is the same. Pray, madam, by what means were you made acquainted with his designs? Dar. Means, child! Why, my cousin Vizard, who, I'm sure, is your sincere friend, sent him. He brought me this letter from my cousin. [Gives her the letter, which she opens. Ang. Ha, Vizard!-then I'm abused in earnest -Would sir Harry, by his instigation, fix a base affront upon me? No, I cannot suspect him of so ungenteel a crime-This letter shall trace the truth. [Aside.]My suspicions, madam, are much cleared; and I hope to satisfy your ladyship in my management, when I next see sir Harry. Enter Servant. [Hurry him off. Still may our sex thus frauds of men oppose; V. [Exit. Dar. Conduct him up. [Exit Servant.] Daughter, I won't doubt your discretion. [Exit LADY DARLING. Enter WILDAIR. Wild. Oh, the delights of love and Burgundy!- -Madam, I have toasted your ladyship fifteen bumpers successively, and swallowed cupids like loches to every glass. Ang. And what then, sir? Wild. Why, then, madam, the wine has got into my head, and the cupids into my heart; and unless, by quenching quick my flame, you kindly ease the smart, I am a lost man, madam. Ang. Drunkenness, sir Harry, is the worst pretence a gentleman can make for rudeness;— for the excuse is as scandalous as the fault.Therefore, pray consider who you are so free with, sir; a woman of condition, that can call half a dozen footmen upon occasion. Wild. Nay, madam, if you have a mind to toss me in a blanket, half a dozen chambermaids would do better service. Come, come, madam; though the wine makes me lisp, yet it has taught me to speak plainer. By all the dust of my ancient progenitors, I must this night rest in your arms! Ang. Nay, then-who waits there? Take hold of that madman, and bind him. Servants. We must do as our young mistress commands us. Wild. Nay, then, have among ye, dogs! and take it up: he, pelting them out, shuts Ang. Oh, the mercenary wretches! This was a plot to betray me. Wild. I have put the whole army to flight; Serv. Madam, here's a gentleman below, calls and now I'll take the general prisoner. himself Wildair, [Laying hold on her. VOL. II. 2 U 4 Ang. I conjure you, sir, by the sacred name | of honour, by your dead father's name, and the fair reputation of your mother's chastity, that you offer not the least offence. Already you have wronged me past redress. Wild. Thou art the most unaccountable crea ture Ang. What madness, sir Harry, what wild dream of loose desire, could prompt you to attempt this baseness? View me well-the brightness of my mind, methinks, should lighten outwards, and let you see your mistake in my behaviour. I think it shines with so much innocence in my face, that it should dazzle all your vicious thoughts. Think not I am defenceless, because alone. Your very self is guard against yourself; I'm sure there's something generous in your soul: my words shall search it out, and eyes shall fire it for my own defence. Wild. [Mimicking.] Tal tidum, tidum, tal ti didi didum. A million to one, now, but this girl is just come flush from reading the Rival Queens! 'Egad, I'll at her in her own çant-Oh, my Statira! Oh! my angry dear, turn thy eyes on me-behold thy beau in buskins. Ang. Behold me, sir; view me with a sober thought, free from those fumes of wine that throw a mist before your sight, and you shall find that every glance from my reproaching eyes is armed with sharp resentment, and with a virtuous pride that looks dishonour dead. prayer-book for your virtue; a hundred guineas will buy a hundred fine things, and fine things are for fine ladies, and fine ladies are for fine gentlemen, and fine gentlemen are 'Egad, this Burgundy makes a man speak like an angel! Come, come, madam, take it, and put it to what use you please. Ang. I'll use it as I would the base unworthy giver, thus [Throws down the purse, and stamps upon it. Wild. I have no mind to meddle in state affairs; but these women will make me a parliament-man in spite of my teeth, on purpose to bring in a bill against their extortion. She tramples under foot that deity which all the world adores-Oh, the blooming pride of beautiful eighteen!- -Pshaw! I'll talk to her no longer; I'll make my market with the old gentlewoman; she knows business better-[Goes to the door.] Here, you, friend: pray, desire the old lady to walk in-Hark'e, 'egad, madam, I'll tell your mother. Enter LADY DARLING. Lady Dar. Well, sir Harry, and how d'ye like my daughter, pray? Wild. Like her, madam!- -Hark'e, will you take it?-Why, faith, madam-Take the money, I say, or, egad, all's out. Ang. All shall out-Sir, you're a scandal to the naine of gentleman. Wild. With all my heart, madam—In short, madam, your daughter has used me somewhat too familiarly, though I have treated her like a woman of quality. Lady Dar. How, sir? Wild. Why, madam, I have offered her a hundred guineas. Lady Dar. A hundred guineas! Upon what score ? Wild. This is the first whore in heroics that I have met with. [Aside.] Look ye, madam, as to that slender particular of your virtue, we sha'n't quarrel about it; you may be as virtuous as any woman in England, if you please; you may say your prayers all the time. But, pray, madam, be pleased to consider, what is this same virtue that you make such a mighty noise aboutCan your virtue bespeak you a front row in the boxes? No! for the players cannot live upon Wild. Upon what score! Lord, lord, how virtue. Can your virtue keep a coach and six. these old women love to hear bawdy! Why, No, no; your virtuous women walk on foot.-'faith, madam, I have never a double entendre Can your virtue hire you a pew in the church? Why, the very sexton will tell you, No. Can your virtue stake for you at picquet? No. Then, what business has a woman with virtue? Come, come, madam, I offered you fifty guineas;there's a hundred- -The devil!stil!!Why, it is a hundred, five score, a hundred guineas! -virtuous Ang. Oh, indignation! Were I a man, you durst not use me thus. But the mean, poor abuse you throw on me, reflects upon yourself: our sex still strikes an awe upon the brave, and only cowards dare affront a woman. Wild. Affront! 'Sdeath, madam, a hundred guineas will set you up a bank at basset; a hundred guineas will furnish out your lodging with china; a hundred guineas will give you an air of quality; a hundred guineas will buy you a rich escritoire for your billet-doux, or a fine common ready at present; but I'll sing you a song. Behold the goldfinches, tal al de rall, A modish minuet, madam, that's all. Lady Dar. Sir, I don't understand you. Ang. Hold, sir! stop your abusive tongue, too loose for modest ears to hear Madam, I did before suspect that his designs were base; now they're too plain. This knight, this mighty man of wit and humour, is made a tool to a knaveVizard has sent hini on a bully's errand to affront a woman; but I scorn the abuse, and him that offered it. |