me a lodging; 'tis no matter how far off my guardian's. Yours, Jacintha." Jac. The very words of my letter! I am amazed! [Aside.] Do you know Mr. Bellamy? Ran. There is not a man on earth I have so great a value for: and he must have some value for me too, or he would never have shown me your pretty epistle; think of that, fair lady. The ladder is at the window; and so, Madam, I hope delivering you safe into his arms, will in some measure expiate the crime I have been guilty of to you. Jac. Good Heaven! How fortunate is this! Ran. I believe I make myself appear more wicked than I really am. For, damn me, if I do not feel more satisfaction in the thoughts of restoring you to my friend, than I could have pleasure in any favour your bounty could have bestowed. Let any other rake lay his hand upon his heart and say the same. Jac. Your generosity transports me. Ran. Let us lose no time then; the ladder's ready. Where was you to lodge? Jac. At Mr. Meggot's. Ran. At my friend Jacky's! better and bet ter still. Jac. Are you acquainted with him too? Ran. Ay, ay; why, did I not tell you at first that I was one of your old acquaintance? I know all about you, you see; though the devil fetch me if ever I saw you before. Now, Madam, give me your hand. Jac. And now, Sir, have with you. Ran. Then thou art a girl of spirit. And though I long to hug you for trusting yourself with me, I will not beg a single kiss, till Bellamy himself shall give me leave. He must fight well that takes you from me. ACT IV. SCENE I.-The Piazza. [Exeunt. lover. Bel. I am so; and therefore should be forgiven this sudden warmth. Frank. And therefore should forgive the fond impertinence of a lover. Bel. Jealousy, you know, is as natural an incident to love Frank. As curiosity. By one piece of silly curiosity I have gone nigh to ruin both myself and you; let not then your jealousy complete our misfortunes. I fear I have lost a mistress as well as you; then let us not quarrel. All may come right again. Bel. It is impossible. She is gone, removed for ever from my sight: she is in the country by this time, Frank. How did you lose her after we part ed? Bel. By too great confidence. When I got her to my chair, the chairmen were not to be found. And, safe as I thought in our disguise, I actually put her into the chair, when Mr. Strictland and his servants were in sight; which I had no sooner done, than they surrounded us, overpowered me, and carried her away. Lucetta, welcome! what news of Jacintha? Luc. News, Sir! you fright me out of my senses! Why, is she not with you? Bel. What do you mean? With me! I have not seen her since I lost her last night, Luc. Good Heaven! then she is undone for ever. Frank. Why, what's the matter? Bel. Speak out-I'm all amazement. Luc. She is escaped, without any of us knowing how. Nobody missed her till morning. We all thought she went away with you. But Heaven knows now what may have happened. Bel. Somebody must have accompanied her in her flight. Luc. We know of nobody: we are all in confusion at home. My master swears revenge on you. My mistress says a stranger has her. Luc. Sure this is not Mr. Frankly. Frank. Nothing will convince him now. [Aside Bel. [Looking at FRANKLY,] Ha! 'tis true! -I see it is true. [Aside.] Lucetta, run up to Buckle and take him with you to search wherever you can. [Puts her out.] Now, Mr. Frankly, I have found you.-You have used me so ill, that you force me to forget you are my friend. Frank. What do you mean? Frank. Are you mad? By Heavens I am innocent. Bel. I have heard you, and will no longer be imposed on-Defend yourself. Frank. Nay, if you are so hot, I draw to defend myself, as I would against a madman. Enter RANger. Ran. What the devil, swords at noon-day! Have among you, faith! [Parts them.] What's here, Bellamy-Yes, 'gad, you are Bellamy, and you are Frankly; put up, put up, both of you or else I am a devilish fellow when once my sword is out. Bel. We shall have a time Ran. [Pushing BELLAMY one way.] A time for what? Frank. I shall always be as ready to defend my innocence as now. Ran. [Pushing FRANKLY the other way.] In. nocence! ay, to be sure-at your age-a mighty innocent fellow, no doubt. But what, in the name of common sense, is it that ails you 3 R both? are you mad? The last time I saw you, you were hugging and kissing; and now you are cutting one another's throats-I never knew any good come of one fellow beslavering another-But I shall put you into a better humour, I warrant you-Bellamy, Frankly, listen both of you-Such fortune-such scheme drunk? a Bel. Pr'ythee, leave fooling. What, art Frank. He is always so, I think. Run. And who gave you the privilege of thinking? Drunk no; I am not drunk. Tipsy, perhaps, with my good fortune-merry, and in spirits-though I have not fire enough to run my friend through the body. Not drunk, though Jack Meggot and I have boxed it about-champaign was the word for two whole hours by Shrewsbury clock. Bel. Jack Meggot! Why, I left him at one, going to bed. Ran. That may be, but I made shift to rouse him and his family by four this morning. Ounds, I picked up a wench, and carried her to his house. Bel. Ha! Ran. Such a variety of adventures-nay, you shall hear. But, before I begin, Bellamy, you shall promise me half a dozen kisses beforehand for the devil fetch me if that little jade, Jacintha, would give me one, though I pressed hard. Bel. Who, Jacintha? press to kiss Jacintha? Ran. Kiss her! ay, why not? is she not a woman and made to be kissed? Bel. Kiss her-I shall run distracted! Ran. How could I help it, when I had her alone, you rogue, in her bedchamber, at midnight! if I had been to be sacrificed, I should have done it. Bel. Bedchamber, at midnight! I can hold no longer-Draw! Frank. Be easy, Bellamy. [Interposing, Bel. He has been at some of his damned tricks with her. Frank, Hear him out. Ran. 'Sdeath, how could I know she was his mistress? But I tell this story most miserably. I should have told you first, I was in another lady's chamber. By the Lord, I got in at the window by a ladder of ropes. Frank. Ha! another lady? Ran. Another and stole in upon her whilst she was undressing; beautiful as an angel, blooming and young. Frank. What, in the same house? Bel. What is this to Jacintha? Ease me of my pain. Ran. Ay, ay, in the same house, on the same floor. The sweetest little angel-but I design to have another touch with her. Frank. 'Sdeath! but you shall have a touch with me first. Bel. Stay, Frankly. [Interposing. Ran. Why, what strange madness has possessed you both, that nobody must kiss a pretty wench but yourselves? Bel. What became of Jacintha? Ran. Ounds! what have you done, that you must monopolize kissing? Frank. Pr'ythee, honest Ranger, ease me of the pain I am in. Was her name Clarinda? Bel. Speak in plain words, where Jacintha is, where to be found. Dear boy, tell me. Ran. Ay, now it is honest Ranger; and, dear boy, tell me-and a minute ago, my throat was to be cut-I could find in my heart not to ago. Ran. Ay, plague! but I had business of my own, so I could not come-Harkye, Frankly, is your girl maid, wife, or widow? Frank. A maid, I hope. Ran. The odds are against you, Charlesbut mine is married, you rogue, and her husband jealous-The devil is in it, if I do not reap some reward for my last night's service. Bel. He has certainly been at Mrs. Strictland herself. But, Frankly, I dare not look SCENE II.-The Hall of MR. STRICTLAND'S House. Enter MRS. STRICTLAND and CLARINDA. Mrs. S. But why in such a hurry, my dear? stay till your servants can go along with you. Cla. Oh, no matter; they'll follow with my things. It is but a little way off, and my chair will guard me. After my staying out so late last night, I am sure Mr. Strictland will think every minute an age, whilst I am in his house. Mrs. S. I am as much amazed at his suspecting your innocence as my own; and every time I think of it, I blush at my present behaviour to you. Cla. No ceremony, dear child. Mrs. S. No, Clarinda, I am too well acquainted with your good humour. But I fear, in the eye of a malicious world, it may look like a confirmation of his suspicion. Cla. My dear, if the world will speak ill of me, for the little innocent gayety which I think the peculiar happiness of my temper, I know no way to prevent it, and am only sorry the world is so ill-natured: but I shall not part with my mirth, I assure them, so long as I know it innocent. I wish, my dear, this may be the greatest uneasiness your husband's jealousy ever gives you. Mrs. S. I hope he never again may have such an occasion as he had last night. Cla. You are so unfashionable a wife.Why, last night's accident would have made half the wives in London easy for life. Has not his jealousy discovered itself openly? And are not you innocent? There is nothing but your foolish temper that prevents his being absolutely in your power. Mrs. S. Clarinda, that is too serious an af fair to laugh at. Let me advise you; take care of Mr. Frankly, observe his temper weil; and if he has the least taint of jealousy, cast him off, and never trust to keeping him in your power. Cla. You will hear little more of Frankly, I believe. Here is Mr. Strictland. Madam. Enter STRICTLAND and LUCETTA. Strict. Lucetta says you want me, Cla. I trouble you, Sir, only that I might return you thanks for the civilities I have received in your family, before I took my leave. Strict. Keep them to yourself, dear Madam. As it is at my request that you leave my house, your thanks upon that occasion are not very desirable. Cla. Oh, Sir, you need not fear. My thanks were only for your civilities. They will not overburden you. But I'll conform to your humour, Sir, and part with as little ceremo ny Strict. As we met. Cla. The brute! [Aside.] My dear, good bye, we may meet again. [To MRS. STRICTLAND. Strict. If you dare trust me with your hand. Cla. Lucetta, remember your instructions. Now, Sir, have with you. [STRICTLAND leads CLARINDA out. Mrs. S. Are her instructions cruel or kind, Lucetta? For I suppose they relate to Mr. Frankly. Luc. I don't know indeed, Sir. Frank. What do you mean? She is a friend of Jacintha's, your lady. I will take my oath she was here last night; and you yourself spoke of her being here this morning-Not know! Luc. No; none of us know. She went away of a sudden-no one of us can imagine whither. Frank. Why, faith, child, thou hast a toler- Luc. She is not here, Sir. Luc. No, I can't do that neither. Re-enter STRICTLAND, behind. Strict. I heard a knocking at the door, and a man's voice-Ha! [Aside. Frank. Deliver this letter to her. Strict. By all my fears, a letter ! [Aside. Luc. I don't know but I may be tempted to do that. Frank. Take it then-and with it this. [Kisses her and gives her money. Strict. Um! there are two bribes in a breath! [Aside. Luc. Have you a mind to try if I can keep a secret as well as yourself, Madam? But 1 will show you I am fit to be trusted by keep-What a jade she is! ing this, though it signifies nothing. Mrs. S. This answer is not so civil, I think. Luc. I beg pardon, Madam, I meant it not to offend. Mrs. S. Pray let us have no more such. neither desire nor want your assistance. Re-enter STRICTLAND. I Strict. She is gone; I feel myself somewhat easier already. Since I have begun the day with gallantry, Madam, shall I conduct you up? Mrs. S. There is something, Sir, which gives you secret uneasiness. I wish Strict. Perhaps so, Madam; and perhaps it may soon be no secret at all. [Leads her out. Luc. Would I were once well settled with my young lady; for at present this is but an odd sort of a queer family. Last night's affair puzzles me. A hat there was that belonged to none of us, that's certain; Madam was in a fright, that is as certain; and I brought all off. Jacintha escaped, no one of us knows how. The good man's jealousy was yesterday groundless; yet, to-day, in my mind, he is very much in the right. Mighty odd, all this!Somebody knocks. If this should be Clarinda's spark, I have an odd message for him too. [She opens the door. Enter FRANKLY. Frank. So, my pretty handmaid, meeting with you gives me some hopes. May I speak with Clarinda? Luc. Whom do you want, Sir? Frank. Clarinda, child. The young lady 1 was admitted to yesterday. Luc. Clarinda-no such person lives here, I assure you. Frank. Where then? Luc. Ay, this gentleman understands reason. [Aside. Frank. And be assured you oblige your mistress while you are serving me. Strict. Her mistress!-Damned sex! and damned wife, thou art an epitome of that sex! [Aside. Frank. And if you can procure me an answer your fee shall be enlarged. [Exit. Luc. The next step is to get her to read this letter. Strict. [Snatches it.] No noise--but stand silent there whilst I read this. [Breaks it open, drops the case; reads. Madam The gayety of a heart, happy as mine was yesterday, may, I hope, easily excuse the unseasonable visit I made your house last nightDeath and the devil! confusion! I shall run distracted. It is too much!-There was a man then to whom the hat belonged; and I was gulled, abused, cheated, imposed on by a chit, a child-Oh, woman, woman!-But I will be calm, search it to the bottom, and have a full revenge. Luc. So, here's fine work! He'll make him[Aside. self very ridiculous though. Strict. [Reads.] I know my innocence will appear so manifestly, that I need only appeal to the lady who accompanied you at Bath; Your very humble servant, good, innocent, fine, Madam Clarinda; And I do not doubt but her good nature will not let you persist in injuring your obedient humCHARLES FRANKLY, ble servant, Now who can say my jealousy lacked foundation, or my suspicion of fine Madam's innocent gayety was unjust?-Gayety! why ay, 'twas gayety brought him hither.-My wife may be are be Luc. Lud! lud! you will make a body mad. Strict. Hold your impertinent tongue. Luc. You'll find the thing to be just as 1 say, Sir. Strict. Be gone. [Exit LUCETTA.] They must at the work, indeed, if they did not poor lend one another their names. "Tis plain, 'tis evident, and I am miserable. But for my wife, she shall not stay one night longer in my house. Separation, shame, contempt, shall be her portion. I am determined in the thing; and when once it is over, I may perhaps be [Exit. easy. Ran. By Heavens! the monsters hear reason and obey. Cla. Letting down the window.] What troublesome fellow was that? 1 Chair. Some rake, I warrant, that cannot carry himself home, and wants us to do it for him. Cla. There--And pray do you take care I be not troubled with him. [Goes in. Ran. That's as much as to say now, pray follow me. Madam, you are a charming woman, and I will do it 1 Chair. Stand off, Sir. Ram. Pr'ythee, honest fellow-what-what writing is that? [Endeavouring to get in. 2 Chair. You come not here. Ran. Lodgings to be let: a pretty convenient inscription, and the sign of a good modest family. There may be lodgings for gentlemen as well as ladies. Harkye, rogues, I'll lay you all the silver I have in my pocket, there it is, I get in there in spite of your teeth, ye pimps. [Throws down the money and goes in. Cla. [Within.] Chair, chair, chair! chair, and I am afraid they let him in. [A noise between RANGER and LANDLADY.] I should certainly know that voice. My madcap cousin Ranger, as I live. I am sure he does not know me.-If I could but hide my face now, what sport I should have! A mask! a mask! Run and see if you can find a mask. Maid. I believe there is one above. Cla. Run, run, and fetch it. [Exit MAID.] Enter RANGER and LANDLADY. Rin. Well, let's see these lodgings that are to be let. 'Gad, a very pretty neat tenement— But harkye, is it real and natural, all that, or only patched up and new painted this summer season, against the town fills? Land. What does the saucy fellow mean with his double tenders here? Get you down Re-enter MAID, with a mask. [Aside to CLARINDA. Cla. No matter. [Erit MAID.] Now we shall see a little what he would be at. [Aside. Land. This is an honest house. For all your laced waistcoat, I'll have you thrown down neck and heels. Ran. Pho! not in such a hurry, good old lady-A mask! nay, with all my heart, it saves a world of blushing. Have you ne'er a one for me. I am apt to be ashamed myself on these occasions. Land. Get you down I say Ran. Not if I guess right, old lady. Madam : [To CLARINDA, who makes sign to the LANDLADY to retire.] look ye there now! that a woman should live to your age, and know so little of the matter. Be gone. [Exit LANDLADY.] By her forwardness this should be a whore of quality. My boy, Ranger, thou art in luck today. She wont speak, I find-then I will. [Aside.] Delicate lodgings truly, Madam; and very neatly furnished-A very convenient room this, I must needs own, to entertain a mixed company. But, my dear charming creature, does not that door open to a more commodious apartment for the happiness of a private friend or so? The prettiest brass lock-Fast, um that wont do. 'Sdeath, you are a beautifuĺ woman, I am sure you are. Pr'ythee let me see your face. It is your interest, child-the longer you delay, the more I shall expect. Therefore, [Takes her hand.] my dear, soft, kind, new acquaintance, thus let me take your hand, and whilst you gently, with the other, let day-light in upon me, let me softly hold you to me, that with my longing lips I may receive the warmest, best impression. [She unmasks.]—Clarinda! Cla. Ha, ha! your servant, cousin Ranger. 1 Chair. Who calls chair-What, have you-Ha, ha, ha! let the gentleman in? 2 Chair. I'll tell you what, partner, he certainly slipped by whilst we were picking up the money. Come, take up. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. CLARINDA'S Lodgings. Enter CLARINDA, followed by MAID. Maid. Bless me, Madam, you seem disordered; what's the matter? Cla. Some impertinent fellow followed the Ran. Óh, your humble servant, Madam. You had like to have been beholden to your mask, cousin.-I must brazen it out. [Aside. Cla. Ha, ha, ha! You were not so happy in your disguise, Sir. The pretty stagger in your gait, that happy disposition of your wig, the genteel negligence of your whole person, and those pretty flowers of modish gallantry, made it impossible to mistake you, my sweet coz. Ha, ha! Ran. Oh, I knew you too; but I fancied you had taken a particular liking to my person, and had a mind to sink the relation under that little piece of black velvet; and 'egad, you never find me behind-hand in a frolic. But since it is otherwise, my merry, goodhumoured cousin, I am as heartily glad to see you in town, as I should be to meet any of my old bottle acquaintance. Cla. And on my side I am as happy in meeting your worship, as I should be in a rencounter with e'er a petticoat in Christendom. Ran. And if you have any occasion for a dangling gallant to Vauxhall, Ranelagh, or even the poor neglected Park, you are so unlike the rest of your virtuous sisters of the petticoat, that I will venture myself with you. Cla. Take care what you promise; for who knows but this face, you were pleased to say so many pretty things of before you saw it, may raise so many rivals among your kept mistresses and reps of quality Ran. Hold, hold! a truce with your satire, sweet coz; or, if scandal must be the topic of every virtuous woman's conversation, call for your tea-water, and let it be in its proper element. Come, your tea, your tea. Cla. With all my heart. Who's there? Re-enter MAID. Get tea--[Exit MAID.] upon condition that you stay till it comes. Ran. That is according as you behave, Madam. Cla. Oh, Sir, I am very sensible of the fa vour. Ran. Nay, you may, I assure you; for there is but one woman of virtue besides yourself I would stay with ten minutes (and I have not known her above these twelve hours;) the insipidity, or the rancour of their discourse, is insufferable-'Sdeath! I had rather take the air with my grandmother. Cla. Ha, ha, ha! the ladies are highly obliged to you, I vow. Ran. I tell you what; the lady I speak of was obliged to me, and the generous girl is ready to own it. Cla. And pray when was it you did virtue this considerable service! Ran. But this last night, the devil fetch me! A romantic whim of mine conveyed me into her chamber, where I found her, young and beautiful, alone, at midnight, dressed like a soft Adonis; her lovely hair all loose about her shoulders Cla. In boy's clothes! this is worth attending to. Ran. 'Gad, I no more suspected her being a woman, than I did your being my cater-cousin. Cla. How did you discover it at last? Ran. Why, faith, she very modestly dropped me a hint of it herself. Cla. Herself! If this should be Jacintha! [Aside. Ran. Ay, 'fore 'gad, did she; which I imagined a good sign at midnight, ay cousin! So I e'en invented a long story of a passion I had for her, though 1 had never seen her before you know my old way-and said so many, such tender things Cla. As you said to me just now. Ran. Pho! quite in another style, I assure you. It was midnight, and I was in a right cue. Cla. Well, and what did she answer to all these protestations? Ran. Why, instead of running into my arms at once, as I expectedCla. To be sure. Ran. 'Gad, like a free-hearted, honest girl, she frankly told me she liked another better than she liked me; that I had something in my face that showed I was a gentleman, and she would e'en trust herself with me, if I would give her my word I would convey her to her spark. Cla. Oh, brave! and how did you bear this? Ran. Why curse me, if I am ever angry with a woman for not having a passion for me. Cla. No? Ran. Never. I only hate your sex's vain pretence of having no passion at all. 'Gad, I loved the good-natured girl for it, took her at her word, stole her out of the window, and this morning made a very honest fellow happy in the possession of her. Cla. And her name is Jacintha? Cla. Your amours are no secrets, Sir. You see you might as well have told me all the whole of last night's adventure; for you find I know. Ran. All! Why, what do you know? Cla. Nay, nothing. I only know that a gentleman's hat cannot be dropped in a lady's chamber Ran. The devil! Cla. But a husband is such an odd, imper. tinent, awkward creature, that he will be stumbling over it. Ran. Here hath been fine work. [Aside.] But how, in the name of wonder, should you know all this? Cla. By being in the same house. Cla. Ay, in the same house, a witness of the confusion you have made. Ran. Frankly's Clarinda, by all that's for[Aside. tunate! It must be so! Cla. And let me tell you, Sir, that even the dull, low-spirited diversions you ridicule in us tame creatures, are preferable to the romantic exploits that only wine can raise you to. Run. Yes, cousin.-But I'll be even with [Aside. you. Cla. If you reflect, cousin, you will find a great deal of wit in shocking a lady's modesty, disturbing her quiet, tainting her reputation, and ruining the peace of a whole family! Ran. To be sure. Cla. These are the high-mettled pleasures of you men of spirit, that the insipidity of the And can you virtuous can never arrive at. in reality think your Burgundy and your Bacchus, your Venus and your loves, an excuse for all this? Fie, cousin, fie. Ran. No, cousin. Cla. What, dumb? I am glad you have modesty enough left not to go about to excuse yourself. Ran. It is as you say; when we are sober, and reflect but ever so little on the follies we commit, we are ashamed and sorry; and yet the very next minute we run again into the same absurdities. Cla. What! moralizing, cousin? ha, ha, ha! Ran. What you know is not half, not a hundredth part of the mischief of my last night's frolic; and yet the very next petticoat 1 saw this morning, I must follow it, and be damned |