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Free. I did so, and I am sure he will be here, Per. I am certain [ read as plain a lease as if you'll have a little patience.
ever I read in my life. Col. What! is Mr Tradelove impatient? Nay,
Col. You read a lease, I grant you; but you then, ik ben gereet voor you, heb be, Jan Van signed this contract. [Shewing a paper, Timtamtirelireletta Heer Van Fainwell, vergee
Per. How durst you put this trick upon me, ten!
Mr Freeman? Did not you tell me my uncle Trade. Oh! pox of the name! what! have you was dying? tricked me, too, Mr Freeman?
Free. And would tell you twice as much to Col. Tricked, Mr Tradelove! did not I give serve my friend-ha, ha! you two thousand pounds for your consent fair- Sir Phi. What the learned and famous Mr İy? And, now, do you tell a gentleman he has Periwinkle choused, too !Ha, ha, ha!—I shall tricked you?
die with laughing--ha, ha, ha! Per. So, so, you are a pretty guardian, faith, Oba. Prim. It had been well if her father had to sell your charge! what!" did you look upon her left her to wiser heads than thine and mine, as part of your stock?
friends ha, ha, ha! Oba. Prim. Ha, ha, ha ! I am glad thy knave- Trade. Well, since you have outwitted us all, ry is found out, however I confess the maiden pray you, what and who are you, sir? over-reached me, and I had no sinister end at Sir Phi. Sir, the gentleman is a fine gentleall.
I am glad you have got a person, maPer. Ay, ay, one thing or other over-reached dam, who understands dress and good-breeding. you all—but I'll take care he shall never finger a I was resolved she should have a husband of my penny of her money, I warrant you-Over-reach- choosing. ed, quoth’a! Why, I might have been over-reach- Oba. Prim. I am sorry the maiden has fallen ed, too, if I had had no more wit: I don't know into such hands. but this very fellow may be him that was direct- Trude. A beau! nay, then, she is finely helped ed to me from Grand Cairo t'other day. Ha, ha, up. ha!
Mrs Love. Why, beaux are great encouragers Col. The very same.
of trade, sir. Ha, ha, ha! Per. Are you so, sir? but your trick would not Col. Look ye, gentlemen; I am the person pass upon me.
who can give the best account of myself; and I Col. No, as you say, at that time it did got; must beg sir Philip's pardon, when I tell him, that that was not my lucky hour—but, hark ye, sir, I have as much aversion to what he calls dress I must let you into one secret-you may keep ho and breeding, as I have to the enemies of my renest John Tradescant's coat on, for your uncle ligion. I have had the honour to serve his masir Toby Periwinkle is not dead so the charge jesty, and headed a regiment of the bravest felof mourning will be saved-ha, ha, ha! Don't lows that ever pushed bayonet in the throat of a you remember Mr Pillage, your uncle's steward: Frenchman; and, notwithstanding the fortune Ha, ha, ha!
this lady brings me, whenever my country wants Per. Not dead! I begin to fear I am tricked, my aid, this sword and arm are at her service. too.
Col. Don't you remember the signing of a lease, Therefore, my dear, if thou'lt but deign to smile, Mr Periwinkle?
I meet a recompense for all my toil. Per. Well; and what signifies that lease, if my Love and religion ne'er admit restraint, uncle is not dead? Ha! I am sure it was a lease And force makes many sinners, not one saint; I signed
Still free as air the active mind does rove, Col. Ay; but it was a lease for life, sir, and of And searches proper objects for its love; this beautiful tenement, I thank you.
But that once fixed, 'tis past the power of art [Taking hold of Mrs Lovely. To chase the dear idea from the heart : Omnes. Ha, ha, ha! Neighbour's fare.
'Tis liberty of choice that sweetens life, Free. So, then, I find you are all tricked-ha, Makes the glad husband, and the happy wife. ha!
WOMEN. SIR John Bevil.
MRS SEALAND, second wife to SEALAND. Mr SEALAND.
ISABELLA, sister to SEALAND. Bevil, junior, in love with IndianA.
IndianA, SEALAND's daughter, by his first wife. MYRTLE, in love with LUCINDA.
LUCINDA, SEALAND's daughter, by his second CIMBERTON, a corcomb.
SCENE I.-SIR JOHN BEVIL's house. thee for thy gravity and sobriety in my wild
years. Enter Sir John Bevil and HUMPHREY.
Humph. Ah, sir! our manners were formed Sir J. Beo. Have you ordered that I should from our different fortunes, not our different not be interrupted while I am dressing? ages; wealth gave a loose to your youth, and po
Humph. Yes, sir; I believed you had some verty put a restraint upon mine. thing of moment to say to me.
Sir J. Beo. Well, Humphrey, you know I have Sir J. Beo. Let me see, Humphrey; I think been a kind master to you; I have used you, for it is now full forty years, since I first took thee the ingenuous nature I observed in you from the to be about myself.
beginning, more like an humble friend than a serHumph. I think, sir, it has been an easy forty vant. years; and I have passed them without much Humph. I humbly beg you'll be so tender of sickness, care, or labour.
me, as to explain your commands, sir, without any Sir J. Bev. Thou hast a brave constitution : farther preparation. you are a year or two older than I am, sirrah. Sir J. Bev. I'll tell thee, then. In the first
Humph. You have ever been of that mind, sir. place, this wedding of my son's, in all probability Sir J. Beo. You knave, you know it; I took (shut the door) will never be at all.
Humph. How, sir, not be at all! for what rea- my mask; with that the gentleman, throwing off son is it carried on in appearance ?
his own, appeared to be my son, and, in his conSir J. Bev. Honest Humphrey, have patience, cern for me, tore off that of the nobleman: at and I'll tell thee all in order. I have myself, in this they seized each other, the company called some part of my life, lived, indeed, with freedom, the guards, and, in the surprize, the lady swooned but I hope without reproach. Now, I thought li-away: upon which my son quitted his adversary, berty would be as little injurious to my son : and had now no care but of the lady-when therefore, as soon as he grew towards man, I in- raising her in his arms, ' Art thou gone,' cried he, dulged him in living after his own manner. I for ever?– forbid it, Heaven!'--She revives at know not how otherwise to judge of his inclina- his known voice-and, with the most familiar, tion; for what can be concluded from a beha- though modest gesture, hangs in safety over his viour under restraint and fear? But what charms shoulders, weeping, but wept as in the arms of me above all expression, is, that my son has ne- one before whom she could give herself a loose, ver, in the least action, the most distant hint or were she not under observation : while she hides word, valued himself upon that great estate of her face in his neck, he carefully conveys her from his mother's, which, according to our marriage the company. settlement, he has had ever since he came to Humph. I have observed this accident has age.
dwelt upon you very strongly. Humph. No, sir; on the contrary, he seems Sir J. Bev. Her uncommon air, her noble moafraid of appearing to enjoy it before you or any desty, the dignity of her person, and the occasion belonging to you. He is as dependent and re- itself, drew the whole assembly together; and I signed to your will, as if he had not a farthing soon heard it buzzed about she was the adopted but what must come from your immediate bounty. daughter of a famous sea-officer, who had served You have ever acted like a good and generous fa- in France. Now, this unexpected and public disther, and he like an obedient and grateful son. covery of my son's so deep concern for her
Sir J. Bev. Nay, his carriage is so easy to all Humph. Was what, I suppose, alarmed Mr with whom he converses, that he is never assu- Sealand, in behalf of his daughter, to break off ming, never prefers himself to others, nor is ever the match ? guilty of that rough sincerity which a man is not Sir J. Beo. You are right---he came to me yes. called to, and certainly disobliges most of his ac- terday, and said, he thought himself disengaged quaintance. To be short, Humphrey, his reputa- from the bargain, being credibly informed my son tion was so fair in the world, that old Sealand, was already married, or worse, to the lady at the the great India merchant, has offered his only masquerade. I palliated matters, and insisted on daughter, and sole heiress to that vast estate of our agreement; but we parted with little less his, as a wife for him. You may be sure I made than a direct breach between us. no difficulties; the match was agreed on, and this Humph. Well, sir, and what notice have you very day named for the wedding.
taken of all this to my young master? Humph. What hinders the proceeding ? Sir J. Bev. That's what I wanted to debate
Sir J. Bev. Don't interrupt me. You know I with you---I have said nothing to hiin yet-But was, last Thursday, at the masquerade; my son, look ye, Humphrey, if there is so much in this you may remember, soon found us out —
-he amour of his, that he denies, upon my summons, knew his grandfather's habit, which I then wore; to marry, I have cause enough to be offended; and though it was in the mode in the last age, and then, by my insisting upon his marrying toyet the maskers, you know, followed us, as if we day, I shall know how far he is engaged to this had been the most monstrous figures in that lady in masquerade, and from thence only shall whole assembly.
be able to take my measures; in the mean time, Humph. I remember, indeed, a young man of I would have you find out how far that rogue, quality, in the habit of a clown, that was particu- his man, is let into his secret--he, I know, will larly troublesome.
play tricks as much to cross me as to serve his Sir J. Beo. Right—he was too much what he master. seemed to be. You remember how impertinently Humph. Why do you think so of him, sir? I he followed and teased us, and would know who believe he is no worse than I was for you at your we were.
Humph. I know he has a mind to come into Sir J. Bet. I see it in the rascal's looks. But that particular.
[Aside. I have dwelt on these things too long: I'll go to Sir J. Bev. Ay, he followed us, till the gentle my son immediately, and, while I'm gone, your man, who led the lady in the Indian inanıtle, pre- part is to couvince his rogue, Tom, that I am in sented that gay creature to the rustic, and bid earnest. I'll leave bim to you. him (like Cymon in the fable) grow polite, by
[Exit Sir J. Bev. falling in love, and let that worthy old gentleinan Humph. Well, though this father and son live alone, meaning me. The clown was not reform- as well together as possible, yet their fear of gied, but rudely persisted, and offered to force off ving each other pam is attended with constant
mutual uneasiness. I am sure I have enough to Tom. I don't know what you heavy inmates do to be honest, and yet keep well with them call noise and extravagance; but we gentlemen, both; but they know I love them, and that makes who are well fed, and cut a figure, sir, think it á the task less painful, however. Oh, here's the fine life, and that we must be very pretty fellows, prince of poor coxcombs, the representative of who are kept only to be looked at. all the better fed than taught! Ho, ho, Tom ! Humph. Very well, sir-I hope the fashion of whither so gay and so airy this morning? being lewd and extravagant, despising of decency
and order, is almost at an end, since it is arrived Enter Tom, singing.
at persons of your quality.
Tom. Master Humphrey, ha, ha! you were an Tom. Sir, we servants of single gentlemen ate unhappy lad to be sent up to towu in such queer another kind of people than you domestic ordi- days as you were. Why now, sir, the lacquies nary drudges that do business; we are raised are the men of pleasure of the age; the top above you: the pleasures of board-wages, tavern- gamesters; and many a laced coat about town, dinners, and many a clear gain, vails, alas! you have had their education in our party-coloured never heard or dreamt of.
regiment. We are false lovers, have a taste of Humph. Thou hast follies and vices enough for music, poetry, billet-doux, dress, politics, ruin a man of ten thousand a-year, though it is but as damsels; and when we are weary of this lewd t'other day that I sent for you to town, to put town, and have a mind to take up, whip into our you into Mr Sealand's family, that you might masters' wigs and linen, and marry fortunes. learn a little before I put you to my young mas- Humph. Hey day! ter, who is too gentle for training such a rude Tom. Nay, sir, our order is carried up to the thing as you were into proper obedience. You highest dignities and distinctions : step but into then pulled off your hat to every one you met in the Painted Chamber—and, by our titles, you'd the street, like a bashful, great, awkward cuh, as take us all for men of quality--then, again, come you were. But your great oaken cudgel, when down to the Court of Requests, and you shall see you were a booby, becaine you much better than us all laying our broken heads together, for the that dangling stick at your button, now you are good of the nation ; and though we never carry a a fpp, that's fit for nothing except it hangs there question nemine contradicente, yet this I can say to be ready for your master's hand when you are with a safe conscience, (and I wish every gentleimpertinent.
inan of our cloth could lay his hand upon his Tom. Uncle Humphrey, you know my master heart, and say the same) that I never took so scorns to strike his servants; you talk as if the much as a single mug of beer for my vote in all world was now just as it was when my old master and you were in your youth—when you Humph. Sirrah, there is no enduring your exwent to dinner because it was so much a clock, travagance; l'll hear you prate no longer : I when the great blow was given in the ball at the wanted to see you to inquire how things go with pantry-door, and all the family came out of their your master, as far as you understand them : I holes, in such strange dresses, and formal faces, suppose he knows he is to be married to-day? as you see in the pictures in our long gallery in Tom. Ay, sir, he knows it, and is dressed as the country.
gay as the sun; but, between you and I, my dear! Humph. Why, you wild rogue !
he has a very heavy heart under all that gaiety. Tom. You could not fall to your dinner, till a As soon as he was dressed, I retired, but overheard formal fellow, in a black gown, said something him sigh in the most heavy manner. He walked over the meat, as if the cook had not made it thoughtfully to and fro in the room, then went ready enough.
into his closet: when he came out, he gave me Humph. Sirrah, who do you prate after this for his mistress, whose maid you knowdespising men of sacred characters! I hope you Humph. Is passionately fond of your fine pernever heard my young master talk so like a profligate!
Tom. The poor
fool is so tender, and loves to Tom. Sir, I say you put upon me when I first hear me talk of the world, and the plays, operas, came to town about being orderly, and the doc- and ridottoes for the winter, the Parks and Belltrine of wearing shams to make linen last clean size for our summer diversions; and lard ! says a fortnight, keeping my clothes fresh, and wear-she, you are so wild—but you have a world of ing a frock within doors.
humour. Humph. Sirrah, I gave you those lessons, be- Humph. Coxcomb! Well, but why don't you cause I supposed, at that time, your master and run with your master's letter to Mrs Lucinda, as you might have dined at home every day, and he ordered you? cost you nothing; then you might have made you Tom. Because Mrs Lucinda is not so easily a good family servant; but the gang you have come at as you think for. frequented since at chocolate-houses and taverns, Humph. Not easily come at ! why, sir, are not in a continual round of noise and extravagance her father and my old master agreed that she and
Mr Bevil are to be one flesh before to-morrow | slide, to be short-sighted, or stare, to fleer in morning?
the face, to look distant, to observe, to oer Tom. It's no matter for that: her mother, it look, yet all become me, and if I were rich, I seems, Mrs Sealand, has not agreed to it; and could twire and loll as well as the best of you inust know, Mr Humphrey, that, in that fa- them. Oh Tom, Tom ! is it not a pity that mily, the grey mare is the better horse.
you should be so great a coxcomb, and I so : Humph. What dost thou mean?
a coquette, and yet be such poor devils as we Tom. In one word, Mrs Sealand pretends to are? have a will of her own, and has provided a rela- Tom. Mrs Phillis, I am your humble servant tion of hers, a stiff starched philosopher, and a for that, wise fool, for her daughter; for which reason, Phil. Yes, Mr Thonras, I know how much you for these ten days past, she has suffered no mes- are my humble servant, and know what you sage nor letter from my master to come near her. said to Mrs Judy, upon seeing her in one of her Humph. And where had you this intelligence? | lady's cast manteaus, that any one would have
Tom. From a foolish fond soul, that can keep thought her the lady, and that she had ordered nothing from me -one that will deliver this the other to wear it till it sat easy---for now only letter, too, if she is rightly managed.
it was becoming---to my lady it was only a coverHumph. What, her pretty handmaid, Mrs ing, to Mrs Judy it was a habit. This you said Phillis ?
after somebody or other. Oh Tom, Tom ! thou Tom. 'Even she, sir. This is the very hour, art as false and as base as the best gentleman of you know, she usually comes hither, under a pre-them all : but, you wretch! talk to me no more tence of a visit to our housekeeper forsooth, on the old odious subject: don't, 1 say. but in reality to have a glance at
Tom. I know not how to resist your comHumph. Your sweet face, I warrant you. mands, madam. [In a submissive tone, retiring. Tom. Nothing else in nature.
You must Phil. Commands about parting are grown know, I love to fret and play with the little mighty easy to you of late.
Tom. Oh, I have her! I have nettled and put Humph. Play with the little wanton! what her into the right temper to be wrought upon will this world come to !
and set a-prating. [Aside.}-Why, truly, to be Tom. I met her this morning in a new man- plain with you, Mrs Phillis, I can take little teau and petticoat, not a bit the worse for her comfort of late in frequenting your house. lady's weariny; and she has always new thoughts Phil. Pray, Mr Thomas, what is it, all of a and new airs with new clothes.then, she sudden, offends your nicety at our house? never fails to steal some glance or gesture from Tom. I don't care to speak particulars, but I every visitant at their house, and is indeed the dislike the whole. whole town of coquettes at secondhand.- Phil. I thank you, sir; I am a part of that But here she comes; in one motion she speaks whole. and describes herself better than all the words Tom. Mistake me not, good Phillis. in the world can.
Phil. Good Phillis! saucy enough. But howHumph. Then I hope, dear sir! when your everown affair is over, you will be so good as to Tom. I say it is, that thou art a part, which mind your master's with her.
gives me pain for the disposition of the whole. Tom. Dear Humphrey' you know my master You must know, madam, to be serious, I am a is my friend, and those are people I never for- man, at the bottom, of prodigious nice honour.
You are too much exposed to company at your Humph. Sauciness itself ! but I'll leave you to house. To be plain, I don't like so many that do your best for him.
[Exit. would be your mistress's lovers whispering to
you. Enter Philçis.
Phil. Don't think to put that upon me. You Phil. Oh, Mr Thomas, is Mrs Sugarkey at say this, because I wrung you to the heart home !--- Lard! one is almost ashamed to pass when I touched your guilty conscience about along the streets. The town is quite einpty, Judy. and nobody of fashion left in it; and the or- Tom. Ah, Phillis, Phillis ! if you but knew my dinary people do so stare to see any thing dres- heart ! sed like a woman of condition, as it were on the Phil. I know too much on't. same floor with them, pass by. Alas! alas ! Tom. Nay, then, poor Crispo's fate and mine it is a sad thing to walk ! O fortune, fortune !
-are- -therefore, give me leave to say, or Tom. What a sad thing to walk ! why, sing at least, as he does upon the same occamadam Phillis, do you wish yourself lame?
sionPhil. No, Mr l'homas, but I wish I were generally carried in a coach or chair, and of a
Se vedette, &c. Sings.] fortune neither to stand nor go, but to totter, or Phil. What do you think I'm to be fobbed off