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Beo. Is a tyrannical, positive, headstrong on his hands, for we two have been agreeing
Bel. There again I thank you. But, in short, what havock he has made with us. the old couple, Belinda's father and mine, have Cla. Yes; but we are but in a kind of fool's paboth agreed upon the match. They insist upon radise here : all our schemes are but mere castlecompliance from their children; so that, accord-building, which your father, Mr Bellmont, and, ing to their wise heads, I am to be married off- my dear Belinda--yours, too, are most obstinatehand to Belinda, and you and your sister, poorly determined to destroy. Clarissa, are to be left to shift for yourselves. Bel. Why, as you say, they are determined Bev. Racks and torments !
that I shall have the honour of Belinda's hand, Bel. Racks and torments ! Seas of milk and in the country-dance of matrimony. ships of amber, man! We are sailing to our Belin. Without considering that I may like wished for harbour, in spite of their machina- another partner better, tions. I have settled the whole affair with Cla- Bev. And without considering that I, forlorn rissa.
as I am, and :ny sister, there, who is as well inBeo. Flave you?
clined to a matrimonial game of romps as any Bel. I have ; and to-morrow morning makes girl in Christendom, must both of us sit down, me possessor of her charms.
and bind our brows with willow, in spite of our Bev. My dear boy, give us your hand: and strongest inclinations to mingle in the groupe. then, thou dear rogue, and then Belinda's mine! Belin. But we have planned our own happiness, Loll-toll-loll.
and, with a little resolution, we shall be successBel. Well, may you be in raptures, sir; for ful in the end, I warrant you. Clarissa, let us here, here, here they both come.
take a turn this way, and leave that love-sick
pair to themselves : they are only fit company for Enter Belinda and Clarissa.
each other, and we may find wherewithal to en
tertain ourselves. Bev. Grace was in all her steps; heaven in her Cla. Let us try: turn this way. eye; in every gesture dignity and love.
Bel. Are you going to leave us, Clarissa ? Belin. A poetical reception, truly! But can- Cla. Only just sauntering into this side-walk : not your passion inspire you to a composition of we sha'nt lose one another. your own, Mr Beverley?
Belin. You are such a tender couple! you arc Bev. It inspires me with sentiments, madam, not tired, I see, of saying pretty soft things to which I cannot find words to express. Suckling, each other. Well, well! take your own way. Waller, Landsdown, and all our dealers in love- Cla. And, if I guess right, you are glad to be verses, give but a faint image of a heart touched left together? hke mine.
Belin. Who, I? Belin. Puor gentleman! What a terrible ta- Cla. Yes, you; the coy Belinda! king you are in! But, if the sonneteers cannot Belin. Not I truly: let us walk together. give an image of you, sir, have you had recourse Cla. No, no; by no means : you shall be into a painter, as you promised me?
dulged. Adieu! we shall be within call. Bev. I have, Belinda, and here-here is the
[Exeunt Bel. and Cưa. humble portrait of your adorer.
Bev. My sister is generously in love with Belin. (Takes the picture.)-Well! there is a Belliont: I wish Belinda would act as openly likeness; but, after all, there is a better painter towards me.
Aside. than this gentleman, whoever he be.
Belin. Well, sir! Thoughtful! I'll call Mr Bev. Å better! Now she is discontented !- Bellmont back, if that is the case. [-Aside.]—Where, madam, can a better be found? Bev. She will call him back. If money can purchase hiin
Aside Belin. Oh! sir, when he draws for money, he
Belin. Am I to entertain you, or you me? never suceeeds. But, when pure inclination Beo. Madam! prompts him, then his colouring is warm indeed. Belin. Madam !-ha, ha! why, you look as if fle gives a portrait that endears the original. you were frightened : are you afraid of being
Bev. Such an artist is worth the Indies ! left alone with me!
Belin. You need not go so far to seek him : Bev. Oh! Belinda, you know that is the baphe has done your business already. The limner piness of my life-butI mean, is a certain little blind god, called Love, Belin. But what, sir? and he has stamped such an impression of you
Bev. Have I done any thing to offend you? bere
Belin. To offend me? Beo. Madam, your most obedient: and I can Bev. I should have been of the party last tell you, that the very same gentleman has been night; I own I should; it was a sufficient inat work for you too.
ducernent to ine that you was to be there; it was Bel. (Who had been talking apart with Cla- my fault, and you, I see, are piqued at it. 2158A.}-Oh! he has had a world of business up- Belin. I piqued !
Bev. I see you are; and the company por- pretation of my words and actions cannot be imceived it last night. I have heard it all : in mere proper. resentment you directed all your discourse to Belin. But these little humours may grow up, Mr Bellmont.
and gather into the fixed disease of jealousy at Belin. If I did, it was merely accidental. last. (LADY RESTLESS crosses the stage, and
Bev. No, it was deliberately done: forgive rings à bell at the door.) And there now-there my rash folly in refusing the invitation : I meant goes a lady who is a victim to her own fretful no manner of harm.
imagination. Belin. Who imagines you did, sir?
Beo. Who is the lady, pray? Bev. I beg your pardon, Belinda : you take Belin. My lady Restless. 'Walk this way, and offence too lightly.
I will give you her whole character. I am not Belin. Ila, ha! what have you taken into acquainted with her ladyship, but I have heard your head now? This uneasiness is of your own much of her. This way. making : I have taken nothing ill, sir.
[Exeunt Belinda und BEVERLEY. Bev. You could not but take it ill; but by all Lady Rest. [Ringing at the door.) What do that's amiable about you, I meant not to incur these servants mean? There is something going your displeasure : forgive that abrupt answer I forward here. I will be let in, or I will know sent: I should have made a handsomer apology. the reason why. (Rings again.] But, in the Belin. Apology! you was engaged, was not mean time, sir John can let any body he pleases
out at the street-door : I'll run up the steps here, Bev. I said so; I own it, and beg your par- and observe.
(Erit. donBelin. Beg my pardon! for what? Ha, ha!
Tattle opens the door, MARMALET follows her. Bev. I only meant
Tat. Who rung this hell? I don't see any boBelin. Ha, ha! can you think I see any thing dy; and yet I am sure the bell rung. Well, in your message to be offended at, sir?
Mrs Marmalet, you will be going, I see? Bev. I was wrong: I beg your pardon. Where Mar. Yes, Mrs Tattle; I am obliged to leave you were concerned, I own I should have ex- you. I'll step across the Park, and I shall soon pressed myself with more delicacy, than those reach Grosvenor-Square. When shall I see you hasty words I am engaged, and can't wait at our house? upon you to-night. I should have told you that Tut. Heaven knows when I shall be able to my heart was with you, though necessity drag- get out: my lady leads us all such lives ! I wish I ged me another way: this omission you resented. had such another place as you have of it. I could learn, since, what spirits you were in the Mar. I have nothing to complain of. the whole evening, though I enjoyed nothing in Tat. No, that you have not when shall I get your absence. I could hear the sallies of your such a gown as that you have on, by my lady? She wit, the sprightliness of your conversation, and will never fling of such a thing, and give it to a on whom your eyes were fixed the whole night. poor servant! Worry, worry, worry herself, and
Belin. They were fixed upon Mr Bellmont, every body else, too.
Re-enter LADY RESTLESS.
Lady Rest. No; there is nobody stirring that Belin. Upon my word, sir, whoever is your way. What do I see? A hussy coming out of author, you are misinformed. You alarm me my house ! with these fancies, and you know I have often Mar. Well, I must be gone, Mrs Tattle; fare told you, that you are of too refining a temper : you well. you create for yourself imaginary misunder- Lady Rest. She is dizened out, too! why did standings, and then are ever entering into expla- not you open the door, Tattle, when I rung? nations. But this watching for intelligence, from Tat. I came as soon as possible, madam. the spies and misrepresenters of conversation, Lady Rest. Who have you with you bere? betray's strong symptoms of jealousy. I would What is your business, mistress ? not be married to a jealous man for the world.
[To MARMALET. Bev. Now she's seeking occasion to break off. Mar. My business, madam? [Aside.]—Jealousy, madam, can never get admis- Lady Rest. In confusion, too! The case is sion into my breast. I am of too generous a plain. You come here after sir Johu, 1 suppose ? temper: a certain delicacy I own I have; I va- Mar. I come after sir John, madam? lue the opinion of my friends, and, when there Lady Rest. Guilt in her face! Yes, after sir are circuinstances of a doubtful aspect, I am John : and, Tattle, you are in the plot aginst me; glad to set things in their true light.' And if I you were favouring her escape, were you? do so with others, surely with you, on whom my Tat. I favour her escape, madam! What ochappiness depends, to desire a favourable inter-casion for that? This is Mrs Marinalet, madam ;
an acquaintance of mine, madam; as good a will have it in our marriage articles, that I must kind of body as any at all.
be plagued with your suspicions. Lady Rest. Oh! very fine, mistress ! you Bed. I subscribe, madam. bring your creatures after the vile man, do Belin. I will have no inquiries where I am goyou?
ing to visit: no following me from place to Mar. I assure you, madam, I am a very honest place : and if we should chance to meet, and girl.
you should perceive a man of wit, or a pretty Lady Rest. Oh! I dare say so. Where did fellow, speaking to me, I will not have you fidgetyou get that gown?
ting about on your chair, knitting your brow, and Nlar. La, madam! I came by it honestly; my looking at your watch“My dear, is it not time lady Conquest gave it to me. I live with my to go home? my love, the coach is waiting:lady Conquest, madam.
and, then, if you are prevailed upon to stay, I Lady Rest. What a complexion she has !- will not have you converse with a Yes, sir,' and How long have you lived in London ?
a 'No, sir,' for the rest of the evening, and then Mar. Three years, madam.
wrangle with me in the carriage all the way Lady Rest. In London three years with that home, and not be commonly civil to me for the complexion! it can't be : perhaps, she is paint rest of the night. I, positively, will have none ed: all these creatures paint. You are all so of this. many painted dolls. (Rubs her face with a white Bev. Agreed, madam; agreed handkerchief.] No, it does not come off. So, Belin. And you shan't tell me you are going Mrs Tattle, you bring fresh country girls here to out of town, and then steal privately to the play, my house, do you?
or to Ranelagh, inerely to be a spy upon me. I Tat. Upon my credit, madam
positively will admit no curiosity about my letLady Rest. Don't tell me! I see through this ters. If you were to open a letter of mine, I affair. Go you about your business, mistress, should never forgive you. I do verily believe, and let me never see you about my doors again: if you were to open my letters, I should hate go, go your ways.
you. Mar. Lord, madam! I shan't trouble your Ber. I subscribe to every thing you can ask. house. Mrs Tattle, a good-day. Here's a deal You shall have what female friends you please ; to-do, indeed! I have as good a house as hers lose your money to whoin you please; dance to go to, whatever she may think of herself. with what beau you please ; ride out with whom
[Erit. you please; go to what china-shop you please ; Lady Rest. There, there, there ! see there! | and, in short, do what you please, without my she goes off in a huff! the way with thein all. attempting to bribe your footinen, or your maid, Ay! I see how it is, Tattle : you false, ungrate for secret intelligence. ful—that gown was never given her by a wo- Belin. Oh, lud! Oh, lud! that is the very man; she had that from sir John. Where is sir strain of jealousy. Deliver me! there is my faJohn?
ther yonder, and sir William Bellmont with him. Tat. Sir John an't at home, madam.
Fly this instant! fly, Mr Beverly, down that Lady Rest. Where is he? Where is he gone? walk; any where. When did he go out?
Beo. You promise, thenTat. I really don't know, madam.
Belin. Don't talk to me now : what would you Lady Rest. Tattle, I know you fib, now. But be at? I am yours, and only yours, unalterably I'll sift this to the bottom. I'll write to my lady so. Fly! begone ! leave me this moment. Conquest to know the truth about that girl, that Bev. I obey: I am gone.
(Erit. was here but now.
Belin. Now, they are putting their wise heads Tat. You will find I told you truth, madam. together to thwart all my schemes of happi
Lady Rest. Very well, Mrs Pert. I'll go, and ness: but love, imperious love, will have it write this moment. Send Robert, to give me an otherwise. account of his master. Sir John, sir John, you will distract me.
Enter Mr BLANDFORD and Sir William Re-enter Belinda and Beverley.
BELLMONT. Belin. Ay! but that quickness, that extreme Bland. Sir William, since we have agreed upsensibility, is what I am afraid of. I positively on every thingwould not have a jealous husband for the world. Sir Wil
. Why yes, Mr Blandford, I think Beo. By Heaven ! no earthly circumstance shall every thing is settled. ever make me think injuriously of you. Jealou- Bland. Why, then, we have only to acquaint sy! ba, ha, ha! it is the most ridiculous pas the young people with our intentions, and so consion! ha, ha!
clude the affair without delay. Belin. You may laugh, sir; but I know your Sir Wil. That is all, sir. over refining temper too well, and I absolutely Bland. As to my girl, I don't min l her non
sense about Beverley: she must do as I will Sir John. What do I see! a young lady in have her.
distress! Sir W'il. And my son, too ; he must follow my Belin. Oh! directions. As to his telling me of his love for [Fuints in his arms, and drops the picture. Clarissa, it is all a joke with me. Children must Sir John. She is fallen into a fit. Would my do as their parents will have them.
servants were in the way! Bland. Ay, so they must; and so they shall. Hey! here is my daughter. So, Belinda! Well,
Lady Restless, at her window. iny girl, sir William and I have agreed, and you Lady Rest. Where can this barbarous man be are to prepare for marriage; that's all.
gone to !-How! under my very window ! Belin. With Mr Beverley, sir?
Sir John. How cold she is ! quite coldBland. Mr Beverley !
(Lay his hand to her cheek. Belin. You know you encouraged him your- Lady Rest. How familiar he is with her! self, sir.
Sir John. And yet she looks beautiful still. Bland. Well, well! I have changed my mind Lady Rest. Does she so? on that head: my friend, sir William, here, of- Sir John. Iler eyes open-how lovely they fers you his son. Do as I advise you: have a look ! care, Belinda, how you disobey my commands. Lady Rest. Traitor! Belin. But, sir-
Sir John. Her cheek begins to colour. Well, Bland. But, madam! I must, and will be obey- young lady, how fare you now, my dear? eu. You don't like him, you say : but I like him, Lady Rest. My dear, too! and that's sufficient for you.
Belin. Heavens! where am I?-Sir Wil. And so it is, Mr Blandford. If my Sir John. Repose yourself awhile, or will you son pretended to have a will of his own, I should step iuto my house? let him know to the contrary.
Lady Rest. No, truly, shan't she. Vile man! Belin. And can you, sir William, against our but I will spoil your sport. I will come down inclination, force us both ?
to you directly, and flash confusiou in your face. Bland. Hold your tongue, Belinda ; don't pro
[Erit from above. What makes you from home! Go Sir John. Where do you live, madam? your ways back directly, and settle your mind.- Belin. In Queen's-square, sir, by the side of I tell you, once for all, I will have my own way. the Park. Come, sir William, we will step to the lawyer's Sir John. I will wait upon you: trust yourchambers. Go home, Belinda, and be observant self with me. You look much better, now.of my commands. Come, sir William. What Lean on my arm. There, there, I will conduct did you say ? [To Belinda.] You mutiny, do you.
Ereunt. you? Don't provoke me. You know, Belinda, I am an odd sort of man, when provoked. Look
Enter Lady RESTLESS. ye here: mind what I say; I won't reason with Lady Rest. Now, I'll make one among ye.you about the matter; my power is absolute, How! Fled! Gone! Which way? Is not that and, if you offer to rebel, you shall have no hus- he, yonder? No-he went into my house, I dare band at all with my consent. I'll cut you off say, as I came down stairs. Tattle, Tattle! Rowith a shilling; I'll see you starve; beg an alms; bert! Will nobody answer? live miserable; die wretched : in short, suffer any calamity without the least compassion from
Enter TattLE. me. If I find you an undutiful girl, I cast you Where is sir John ? off for ever. So there's one word for all.
Tat. La! Madam, how should I know? [Exit : Sir William follows him. Lady Rest. Did not he go in this moment? Belin. What will become of me? his inhuma- Tat. No, madam. nity overcomes me quite-I can never consent : Lady Rést. To be sure you will say so. I'll the very sight of this picture is enough to forbid follow him through the world, or I'll find him it. Oh! Beverley, you are master of my heart. out. So, so-what is here? This is her picture, I'll go this'instant-and-Heavens ! I can scarce I suppose ? I will make sure of this, at least : I am ready to faint.
this will discover her to me, though she has es
caped now. Cruel, false, deceitful man! (Erit. Enter Sir John.
Tat. Poor lady! I believe her head is turned,
for my part. Well! I am determined I'll look Sir John. No tidings of her far or near. out for another place, that's a sure thing I will. Belin. How I tremble! I shall fall-no help?
SCENE 1.Sir John's house,
women should be under severer restraints than
the men are ! Enter Sir John and ROBERT.
Sir John. You repine for want of freedom, do Sir John. Robert, where is your lady? you? Rob. In her own room, sir.
Lady Rest. Cruel laws of wedlock! The tySir John. Any body with her?
rant husband may triumph in his infidelity. He Rob. I cannot say, sir : my lady is not well. may securely trainple upon all laws of decency
Sir John. Not well! Fatigued with rioting and order : it redounds to his credit; gives him about this town, I suppose. How long has she a fashionable air of vice, while a poor woman is been at home!
obliged to submit to his cruelty. She remains Rob. About an hour, sir.
tied to him for life, even though she has reason Sir John. About an hour! Very well, Robert, to entertain a mortal hatred for him. you may retire.—[Exit RobeRT.]—Now will i Sir John. Ob! Very well argued, madam! question her closely.
S0-50—50—she comes, Lady Rest. What a pity it is, Tattle, that we leaning on her maid: finely dissembled ! finely cannot change our husbands, as we do our eardissembled! but this pretended illness shall not rings, or our gloves ! shelter her from my strict inquiry. Soft a mo- Sir John. There is a woman of spirit ! ment! If I could overhear what passes between Lady Rest. Tattle! Will you own the truth them, it might lead to the truth. I'll work by to me about that girl? stratagem. The hypocrite! How she acts her Tat. I really have told you the truth, madam. part !
Lady Rest. You won't discover, I see: very
well! You may go down stairs. Enter LADY RESTLESS and TATTLE.
Tat. I assure your ladyship
Lady Rest. Go down stairs. Tat. How are you now, Madam?
Tat. Yes, madam.
Erit. Lady Rest. Somewhat better, Tattle. Reach Lady Rest. Would I had never seen my husthat chair. Tattle, tell me honestly, does that band's face ! girl live with lady Conquest ?
Sir John. I am even with you : I have as good Tat. She does, madam, upon my veracity. wishes for I
assure you. Lady Rest. Very well! You will be obstinate, Lady Rest. This picture here-Oh, the base I see; but I shall know the truth presently. I man! shall have an answer from her ladyship, and then Sir John. The picture of her gallant, I supall will come out.
pose. Tat. You will hear nothing, madam, but what Lady Rest. This is really a handsome picture: I have told you already.
what a charming countenance! It is perfuined, I Lady Rest. Tattle, Tattle, I took you up in fancy : the scent is agreeable. the country, in hopes gratitude would make you Sir John. The jade! how eagerly she kisses it! my friend. But you are as bad as the rest of Lady Rest. Why had I not such a dear, dear them. Conceal all you know: it is of very little man, instead of the brute, the monsterconsequence. I now see through the whole af- Sir John. Monster! She does not mince the fair. Though it is the picture of a man, yet I matter : plain downright English! I must conam not to be deceived: I understand it all. This tain my rage, and steal upou her meditationsis some former gallant. The creature gave this So-so-soto sir John, as a proof that she had no affection for any one but bimself. What art he must have
Enters on tiptoe. had to induce her to this! I have found him out Lady Rest. There is no falsehood in this look. at last.
Sir John. (Looking over her shoulder.]—Oh!
What a handsome dog she has chosen for herSir Jonx, peeping in.
self! Sir John. What does she say?
Lady Rest. With you I could be for ever Lady Rest. I have seen enough to convince me happy! what kind of man he is. The fate of us poor Sir John. You could, could you ? women is hard : we all wish for husbands, and
(Snatches the picture. they are the torment of our lives.
Lady Rest. (Screams out.}-Mercy on me! Tat. There is too much truth in what you say, Oh! is it you, sir ? madam.
Sir John. Now, madam! now, false one, have Sir John. You join her, do you, Mrs Ini- I caught you? quity?
Lady Rest. You are come home at last, I find, Lady Rest. What a pity it is, Tattle, that poor sir, VOL. II.