Arch. Not at all; I have another for Gipsey. Scrub. A guinea for her! Fire and faggot for the witch- -Sir, give me that guinea; and I'll discover a plot. Arch. A plot! Scrub. Ay, sir; a plot, a horrid plot-First, it must be a plot, because there's a woman in't: secondly it must be a plot, because there's a priest in't thirdly, it must be a plot, because there's French gold in't: and fourthly, it must be a plot, because I don't know what to make on't. Arch. Nor any body else, I'm afraid, brother Scrub. Scrub. Truly I'm afraid so, too; for, where there's a priest and a woman, there's always a mysstery.and a riddle-This I know, that here has been the doctor with a temptation in one hand, and an absolution in the other, and Gipsey has sold herself to the devil; I saw the price paid down; my eyes shall take their oath on't. Arch. And is all this bustle about Gipsey? Scrub. That's not all; I could hear but a word here and there; but I remember they mentioned a count, a closet, a back-door, and a key. Arch. The count! did you hear nothing of Mrs Sullen? Scrub. I did hear some word that sounded that way but whether it was Sullen or Dorinda, I could not distinguish. Arch. You have told this matter to nobody, brother? Scrub. Told! No, sir, I thank you for that; I'm resolved never to speak one word, pro nor con, till we have a peace. Arch. You're in the right, brother Scrub. Here's a treaty a-foot between the count and the lady. The priest and the chamber-maid are plenipotentiaries.-It shall go hard but I'll find a way to be included in the treaty. Where's the doctor now? Scrub. He and Gipsey are this moment devouring my lady's marmalade in the closet. Aim. [From without.] Martin, Martin ! Arch. I come, sir; I come. Scrub. But you forget the other guinea, brother Martin. Arch. Here, I give it with all my heart. Serub. And I take it with all my soul. [Exeunt severally. Ecod, I'll spoil your plotting, Mrs Gipsey and if you should set the captain upon me, these two guineas will buy me off. [Exit. Enter MRS SULLEN and DORINDA, meeting. Mrs Sul. What's become of my lord? ter. Dor. O' my conscience, I fancy you could beg that fellow at the gallows foot. Mrs Sul. O' my conscience I could, provided I could put a friend of yours in his room. Dor. You desired me, sister, to leave you, when you transgressed the bounds of honour. Mrs Sul. Thou dear, censorious, country girl -What dost mean? You can't think of the man without the bed-fellow, I find. Dor. I don't find any thing unnatural in that thought; while the mind is conversant with flesh and blood, it must conform to the humours of the company. Mrs Sul. How a little love and conversation improve a woman! Why, child, you begin to live. You never spoke before. Dor. Because I was never spoke to before: my lord has told me that I have more wit and beauty than any of the sex; and, truly, I begin to think the man is sincere. Mrs Sul. You're in the right, Dorinda; pride is the life of a woman, and flattery is our daily bread. But I'll lay you a guinea that I had finer things said to me than you had. ye? Dor. Done! What did your fellow say to Mrs Sul. My fellow took the picture of Venus for mine. Dor. But my lover took me for Venus herself. Mrs Sul. Common cant! Had my spark called me a Venus directly, I should have believed him to be a footman in good earnest. me. Dor. But my lover was upon his knees to me. Mrs Sul. And mine was upon his tiptoes to Dor. Mine vowed to die for me. Mrs Sul. Mine swore to die with me. Dor. Mine kissed my hand ten thousand times. Mrs Sul. Mine has all that pleasure to come. Dor. Mine spoke the softest, moving things. Mrs Sul. Mine had his moving things, too. Dor. Mine offered marriage. Mrs Sul. O Lard! D'ye call that a moving thing? Dor. The sharpest arrow in his quiver, my dear sister: Why, my twenty thousand pounds may lie brooding here these seven years, and hatch nothing at last but some ill-natured clown like yours: Whereas, if I marry my lord Aimwell, there will be a title, place, and precedence, the park, the play, and the drawing-room, splendour, equipage, noise, and flambeaux-Hey! my lady Aimwell's servants there!-Lights, lights, to the stairs!—My lady Aimwell's coach, put for ward!-Stand by; make room for her ladyship!Are not these things moving? What, melancholy of a sudden! Mrs Sul. Happy, happy, sister! Your angel has been watchful for your happiness, whilst mine has slept regardless of his charge-Long smiling years of circling joys for you; but not one hour for me! [Weeps. Dor. Come, my dear, we'll talk on something else. Mrs Sul. O Dorinda! I own myself a woman, full of my sex, a gentle, generous soul-easy and yielding to soft desires; a spacious heart, where love, and all his train, might lodge: And must the fair apartment of my breast be made a stable for a brute to lie in? Dor. Meaning your husband, I suppose? Mrs Sul. Husband! No-Even husband is too soft a name for him- -But come, I expect my brother here to-night, or to-morrow: He was abroad when my father married me; perhaps he'll find a way to make me easy. Dor. Will you promise not to make yourself easy, in the mean time, with my lord's friend? Mrs Sul. You mistake me, sister: it happens with us, as among the men, the greatest talkers are the greatest cowards: and there's a reason for it; those spirits evaporate in prattle, which might do more mischief if they took another Course- -Though, to confess the truth, I do love that fellow; and if I met him drest as he should be, and I undrest as I should beLook'e, sister, I have no supernatural gifts ;I can't swear I could resist the temptationthough I can safely promise to avoid it; and that's as much as the best of us can do. I Enter FOIGARD. Foig. Save you, noble friend. Aim. O sir, your servant. Pray, doctor, may crave your name? Foig. Fat naam is upon me? My naam i Foigard, joy. Aim. Foigard! a very good name for a clergyman. Pray, doctor Foigard, were you ever in Ireland? Foig. Ireland! no, joy. Fat sort of place is dat saam Ireland? Dey say, de people are catched dere when dey are young. Aim. And some of them here, when they are old-as for example-[Takes FOIGARD by the shoulder.]-Sir, I arrest you as a traitor against the government; you're a subject of England, and this morning shewed me a commission, by which you served as chaplain in the French army. This is death by our law, and your reverence must hang for it. Foig. Upon my shoul, noble friend, dis is strange news you tell me; fader Foigard a subject of England! the son of a burgomaster of Brussels a subject of England! Ubooboo. Aim. The son of a bog-trotter in Ireland! sir, your tongue will condemn you before any bench in the kingdom. Foig. And is my tongue all your evidensh, joy? Aim. That's enough. Foig. No, no, joy; for I will never speak English no more. Aim. Sir, I have other evidence. Here, Martin, you know this fellow? Enter ARCHER. Arch. [In a brogue.]-Saave you, my dear cussen, how does your health? Foig. Ah! upon my shoul dere is my countryman, and his brogue will hang mine.-[Aside.]Mynhere, Ick wet neat watt hey zacht, Ick Universton ewe neat, sacramant. Aim. Altering your language won't do, sir; this fellow knows your person, and will swear to your face. Aim. Well, well, any thing to deliver us from sauntering away our idle evenings at White's, Tom's, or Will's, and be stinted to bare looking at our old acquaintance, the cards, because our impotent pockets can't afford us a guinea for the mercenary drabs; and ten thousand such rascal-faash, too? Foig. Faash! Fey, is dere brogue upon my ly tricks-had we outlived our fortunes among Arch. Upon my soulvation dere ish, joyour acquaintance--But nowBut, cussen Mackshane, vill you not put a re Foig. Mackshane! By St Paatrick, dat is my naame shure enough! Arch. Aye, now is the time to prevent all this.membrance upon me? Strike while the iron is hot. This priest is the luckiest part of our adventure; he shall marry you, and pimp for me. Aim. But I should not like a woman that can be so fond of a Frenchman. Arch. Alas, sir, necessity has no law; the lady may be in distress. But, if the plot lies as I suspect I must put on the gentleman. But here comes the doctor. I shall be ready. [Exit ARCHER. VOL. II. [Aside. Aim. I fancy, Archer, you have it. Foig. The devil hang you, joy--By fat acquaintance are you my cussen? Arch. O, de devil hang yourshelf, joy; you know we were little boys togeder upon de school, and your foster-moder's son was married upon my nurse's shister, joy; and so we are Irish cus sens. Foig. De devil take de relation! Vel, joy, and | break in, and tells us the plate stands in the fat school was it? wainscot cupboard in the parlour. Arch. I think it was- -Aay-Twas Tip perary. Bon. Ay, ay, Mr Bagshot, as the saying is, knives and forks, cups and cans, tumblers and Foig. Now, upon my shoul, joy, 'twas Kil- tankards-There's one tankard, as the saying kenny. is, that's near upon as big as me; it was a preAim. That's enough for us-- -Self-confession | sent to the squire from his god-mother, and Come, sir, we must deliver you into the smells of nutmeg and toast like an East India hands of the next magistrate. ship. Arch. He sends you to goal, you're tried next assizes, and away you go swing into purgatory. Foig. And is it so wid you, cussen? Arch. It vil be so vid you, cussen, if you don't immediately confess the secret between you and Mrs Gipsey Look'e, sir, the gallows or the secret, take your choice. Houns. Then you say we must divide at the stair head. Bon. Yes, Mr Hounslow, as the saying isAt one end of the gallery lies my lady Bountiful and her daughter; and, at the other, Mrs Sullen-As for the squire Gib. He's safe enough; I have fairly entered him, and he's more than half seas over already -But such a parcel of scoundrels are got about him there, that, e'gad, I was ashamed to be Forg. The gallows! Upon my shoul, I hate that shame gallows, for it is a diseashe dat is fa tai to our family— Vel, den, dere is noting, shen-seen in their company. tlemens, but Mrs Sullen would speak wid de count in her chamber at midnight, and dere is no harm, joy, for I am to conduct the count to the plaash myself. -Have you communica Arch. As I guessedted the matter to the count? Foig. I have not sheen him since. Arch. Right again; why then, doctor,-you shall conduct me to the lady, instead of the count. Foig. Fat, my cussen to the lady! Upon my shoui, gra, dat's too much upon the brogue. Arch. Come, come, doctor; consider we have got a rope about your neck, and if you offer to squeak, we'll stop your wind-pipe, most certainly; we shall have another job for you in a day or two, I hope. Aim. Here's company coming this way; let's into my chamber, and there concert our affairs farther. Arch. Come, my dear cussen, come along. [Exeunt. Bon. 'Tis now twelve, as the saying is-Gentlemen, you must set out at one. Gib. Hounslow, do you and Bagshot see our arms fixed, and I'll come to you presently. Houns. & Bag. We will. [Exeunt. Gib. Well, my dear Bonny, you assure me that Scrub is a coward? Bon. A chicken, as the saying is--You'l have no creature to deal with but the ladies. Gib. And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of address and good-manners in robbing a lady; I am the most a gentleman that way that ever travelled the road-But, my dear Bonny, this prize will be a galleon, a Vigo business- -I warrant you we shall bring off three or four thousand pound. Bon. In plate, jewels, and money, as the saying is, you may. Gib. Why then, Tyburn, I defy thee! I'll get up to town, sell off my horse and arms, buy myself some pretty employment in the law, and be as snug and as honest as e'er a long gown of 'em all. Bon. And what think you, then, of my daugh ter Cherry for a wife? Gib. Look'e, my dear Bonny-Cherry is the goddess I adore, as the song goes; but it is a maxim, that man and wife should never have it in their power to hang one another; for, if they should, the Lord have mercy upon them both! [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I-Continues. Knocking without. Enter BONIFACE. Bon. Coming, coming!A coach, and six foaming horses at this time o'night! Some great man, as the saying is, for he scorns to travel with other people. Enter SIR CHARLES FREEMAN. Sir Cha. What, fellow! a public house, and a-bed when other people sleep! Bon. Sir, I an't a-bed, as the saying is. Sir Cha. I see that, as the saying is! Is Mr Sullen's family a-bed, think'e? Bon. All but the 'squire himself, sir, as the saying is; he's in the house. Sir Cha. What company has he? Bon. Why, sir, there's the constable, Mr Gage, the exciseman, the hunch-back'd barber, and two or three other gentlemen. Sir Cha. I find my sister's letters gave me the true picture of her spouse. Enter SULLEN, drunk. Bon. Sir, here's the 'squire. Sul. The puppies left me asleep————sir. Sul. Sir, I am an unfortunate man- -I have three thousand pounds a-year, and can't get a man to drink a cup of ale with me. Sir Cha. That's very hard. Sul. Ay, sir-And unless you have pity upon me, and smoke a pipe with me, I must c'en go home to my wife, and I had rather go to the devil by half. Sir Cha. But I presume, sir, you won't see your wife to-night, she'll be gone to bed-you don't use to lie with your wife in that pickle? Sul. What! not lie with my wife! why, sir, do you take me for an atheist, or a rake? Sir Cha. If you hate her, sir, I think you had better lie from her. Sul. I think so, too, friend- -But I am a justice of peace, and must do nothing against the law. Sir Cha. Law! As I take it, Mr Justice, nobody observes law for law's sake, only for the good of those for whom it was made. Sul. But if the law orders me to send you to gaol, you must lie there, my friend. Sir Cha. Not unless I commit a crime to deserve it. Sul. A crime? Oons, an't I married? Sir Cha. Nay, sir, if you call marriage a crime, you must disown it for a law. Sul. Eh!-I must be acquainted with you, sir-But, sir, I should be very glad to know the truth of this matter. Sir Cha. Truth, sir, is a profound sea; and few there be that dare wade deep enough to find the bottom on't. Besides, sir, I'm afraid the line of your understanding mayn't be long enough. Sul. Look'e, sir, I have nothing to say to your sea of truth; but if a good parcel of land can entitle a man to a little truth, I have as much as any he in the county. Bon. I never heard your worship, as the saying is, talk so much before. Sul. Because I never met with a man that I liked before. Bon. Pray, sir, as the saying is, let me ask you one question: Are not man and wife one flesh? Sir Cha. You and your wife, Mr Guts, may be one flesh, because you are nothing else-But ra tional creatures have minds that must be united Sul. Minds! e Sir Cha. Ay, minds, sir. Don't you think that the mind takes place of the body? Sul. In some people. Sir Cha. Then, the interest of the master must be consulted before that of the servant. Sul. Sir, you shall dine with me to-morrow. Oons, I always thought we were naturally one. Sir Cha. Sir, I know that my two hands are naturally one, because they love one another, kiss one another, help one another in all the actions of life; but I could not say so much if they were always at cuffs. Sul. Then 'tis plain that we are two. Sir Cha. With all my heart. Sul. You shall have her to-morrow morning, and a venison pasty into the bargain. Sir Cha. You'll let me have her fortune, too? Sul. Fortune! why, sir, I have no quarrel to her fortune—I hate only the woman, sir; and none but the woman shall go. Sir Cha. But her fortune, sir- Sul. Not at all-fours? Sul. Oons! where was this man bred? [Aside.] Burn me, sir, I can't go home; 'tis but two o' clock. Sir Cha. For half an hour, sir, if you pleaseBut you must consider 'tis late. Sul. Late! that's the reason I can't go to bed -Come, sir[Excunt. Enter CHERRY, runs across the stage, and knocks at AIMWELL'S chamber-door. Enter AIMWELL, in his night-cap and gown. Aim. What's the matter? You tremble, child; you're frighted. Cher. No wonder, sir; but, in short, sir, this very minute a gang of rogues are gone to rob my lady Bountiful's house. Aim. How! Cher. I dogged them to the very door, and left them breaking in. Aim. Have you alarmed any body else with the news. Cher. No, no, sir; I wanted to have discovered the whole plot, and twenty other things, to your man Martin; but I have searched the whole house, and can't find him; where is he? Aim. No matter, child; will you guide me immediately to the house? Cher. With all my heart, sir; my lady Bountiful is my god-mother, and I love Mrs Dorinda so well Aim. Dorinda! the name inspires me; the glory and the danger shall be all my own. Come, my life, let me but get my sword. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Changes to the bed-chamber in LADY BOUNTIFUL'S house. Enter MRS SULLEN and DORINDA, undressed; a table and lights. Dor. 'Tis very late, sister; no news of your spouse, yet? Mrs Sul. No, I'm condemned to be alone till towards four, and then, perhaps, I may be executed with his company. Dor. Well, my dear, I'll leave you to your rest; you'll go directly to bed, I suppose? Mrs Sul. I don't know what to do; hey-ho! Dor. That's a desiring sigh, sister. Mrs Sul. This is a languishing hour, sister. Dor. And might prove a critical minute, if the pretty fellow were here. Mrs Sul. Here! what, in my bed-chamber, at two o'clock in the morning, I undressed, the family asleep, my hated husband abroad, and my lovely fellow at my feet?- -O gad, sister! Dor. Thoughts are free, sister, and them I allow you. So, my dear, good-night. [Exit. Mrs Sul. A good rest to my dear DorindaThoughts are free! they are so? Why, then, suppose him here, dressed like a youthful, gay, and burning bridegroom, [Here ARCHER steals out of the closet.] with tongue enchanting, eyes bewitching, knees imploring. [Turns a little on one side, and sees ARCHER in the posture she describes.] Ah! [Shrieks, and runs to the other side of the stage.] Have my thoughts raised a spirit? What are you, sir, a man or a devil? Arch. A man, a man, madam! [Rising. Mrs Sul. How shall I be sure of it? Arch. Madam, I'll give you demonstration this minute. [Takes her hand. Mrs Sul. What, sir, do vou intend to be rude? Arch. Yes, madam, if you please. Mrs Sul. In the name of wonder, whence came ye Arch. From the skies, madam-I'm a Jupiter in love, and you shall be my Alcmena. Mrs Sul. How came you in? Arch. I flew in at the window, madam; your cousin Cupid lent me his wings, and your sister Venus opened the casement. Mrs Sul. I'm struck dumb with admiration. Arch. And I with wonder. [Looks passionately at her.] How beautiful she looks! the teeming jolly spring smiles in her blooming face; and when she was conceived, her mother smelt to roses, looked on lillies— Lillies unfold their white, their fragrant charms, When the warm sun thus darts into their arms. [Runs to her. Mrs Sul. Ah! [Shrieks. Arch. Oons, madam, what do you mean?— You'll raise the house. Mrs Sul. Sir, I'll wake the dead before I'll bear this. What! approach me with the freedom of a keeper? I am glad on't. Your impu dence has cured me. Arch. If this be impudence, [Kneels.] I leave to your partial self; no panting pilgrim, after a tedious, painful voyage, e'er bowed before his saint with more devotion. Mrs Sul. Now, now, I'm ruined if he kneels. [Aside.] Rise, thou prostrate engineer; not all thy undermining skill shall reach my heart.Rise, and know I am a woman without my sex; I can love to the tenderness of wishes, sighs, and tears- But go no farther-Still to convince you that I'm more than woman, I can speak my frailty, confess my weakness, even for you-But Arch. For me! [Going to lay hold on her. Mrs Sul. Hold, sir; build not upon that-for my most mortal hatred follows, if you disobey what I command you now-leave me this minute-if he denies, I'm lost. Arch. Then you'll promise- [Aside. Arch. They must, they must. [Kisses her.]-Raptures, and paradise! And why not now, my angel? The time, the place, silence and secrecy, all conspire-And, now, the conscious stars have pre-ordained this moment for my happiness. [Takes her in his arms. Mrs Sul. You will not, cannot, sure. Arch. If the sun rides fast, and disappoints not mortals of to-morrow's dawn, this night shall crown my joys. Mrs Sul. You shall kill me first. [Carrying her off. Mrs Sul. Thieves! thieves! murder |