THE WAY TO KEEP HIM. BY MURPHY. PROLOGUE, WHEN first the haughty critic's dreadful rage, Next these a hardy, manly race appear'd, Who knew no dulness, and no critics fear'd. From Nature's store each curious tint they drew, Then boldly held the piece to public view: "Lo! here, exact proportion! just design! The bold relief! and the unerring line! Mark in soft union how the colours strike! This, sirs, you will, or this you ought to like." They bid defiance to the foes of wit, Disdains a false compassion to excite: To catch the foibles, that misguide the fair, ACT I. SCENE I.-An Apartment in LOVEMORE'S House. WILLIAM and SIDEBOARD discovered at a Game of Cards. Will. A plague go with it! I have turned out my game: Is forty-seven good? Side. Equal. Will. Confound the cards! tierce to a queen? Will. There again! ruined, stock and block: nothing can save me. I don't believe there is a footman in England plays with worse luck than myself. Four aces are fourteen. Side. That's hard, cruel by Jupiter! Aces against me every time. Will. Four aces are fourteen: fifteen. [Plays. Side. There's your equality. Will. Very well: I turned out my point. Sixteen; [Plays.] seventeen. [Plays.] Enter MUSLIN. Mus. There's a couple of you, indeed! You are so fond of the vices of your betters, that you are scarce out of your beds, but you must imi tate them and their profligate ways. Set you up forsooth! Will. Pr'ythee be quiet, woman, do. Eighteen. [Plays. Mus. Upon my word!--With your usual ease, Mr Coxcomb. Will. Manners, Mrs Muslin: you see Mr Sideboard here; he is just come on a message from Sir Bashful Constant. Have some respect for a stranger. Nineteen, clubs. [Plays. Mus. It would become Mr Sideboard to go back with his answer, and it would become you to send my lady word Will. Command your tongue, Mrs Muslin you'll put me out. What shall I play?—He will go back with his answer in good time. Let his master wait till it suits our conveniency. Nineteen, clubs: where shall I go now? Mus. Have done with your folly, Mr Impertinent. My lady desires to know Will. I tell you, woman, my master and I desire to have nothing to do with you and your lady. Twenty, diamonds. [Plays. Mus. But I tell you, Mr Brazen, that my lady desires to know at what hour your master came home last night, and how he does this morning? Will. Ridiculous! Don't disturb us with that nonsense now; you see I am not at leisure. I and my master are resolved to be teased no more by you; and so, Mrs Go-between, you may return as you came. What the devil shall I play? We will have nothing to do with you, I tell you, Mus. You'll have nothing to do with us? But you shall have to do with us, or I'll know the reason why. [She snatches the cards from him, and throws them about. Will. Death and fury! this meddling woman has destroyed my whole game. A man might as well be married, as be treated in this fashion. Side. I shall score you for this, Mr William: I was sure of the cards, and that would have made me up. Will. No, you'll score nothing for this. You win too much off me. I am a very pretty annui ty to you. Side. Annuity, say you? I lose a fortune to you in the course of the year. How could you, Mrs Muslin, behave in this sort to persons of our dig. nity? Mus. Decamp with your dignity; take your answer to your master: turn upon your rogue's heel, and rid the house. Side. I sha'n't dispute with you. I hate wrang ling: I leave that to lawyers and married people; they have nothing else to do. Mr William, I shall let Sir Bashful know that Mr Lovemore will be at home for him. When you come to our house, I'll give you your revenge. We can have a snug party there, and I promise you a glass of choice Champaigne: it happens to be a good batch; Sir Bashful gets none of it: I keep it for my own friends. Au revoir. (Exit Will. [To MUSLIN.] You see what mischief you have made. Mus. Truce with your foolery; and now, sir, be so obliging as to send my lady an answer to her questions: How and when your rakehelly master came home last night? Will. I'll tell you one thing, Mrs Muslin; you and my master will be the death of me at last. In the name of charity, what do you both take me for? Whatever appearances may be, I am but of mortal mould; nothing supernatural about me. Mus. Upon my word, Mr Powder-Puff! Will. I have not, indeed; and flesh and blood, let me tell you, cann't hold it always at this rate. I cann't be for ever a slave to Mr Lovemore's eter nal frolics, and to your second-hand airs. Mus. Second-hand airs! and Will. Yes, second-hand airs! you take them at your ladies' toilets with their cast gowns, so you descend to us with them.-And then, on the other hand, there's my master!-Because he chooses to live upon the principal of his health, and so run out his whole stock as fast as he can, he must have my company with him in his devil's dance to the other world! Never at home till three, four, five, six in the morning. Mus. Ay, a vile ungrateful man! always ran ging abroad, and no regard for a wife that dotes upon him. And your love for me is all of a piece I have no patience with you both; a couple of false. perfidious, abandoned profligates! Will. Hey! where is your tongue running? My master, as the world goes, is a good sort of a civil kind of a husband; and I, heaven help me! a poor simpleton of a constant, amorous puppy, who bears with all the whims of my little tyrant here. Come and kiss me, you jade, come and kiss me. Mus. Paws off, Cæsar. Don't think to make me your dupe. I know when you go with him to this new lady, this Bath acquaintance; and I know you are as false as my master, and give all my dues to your Mrs Mignionet there. Will. Hush! not a word of that. I am ruin ed, pressed, and sent on board a tender directly, if you blab that I trusted you with that secret. But to charge me with falsehood!-injustice and ingratitude-My master, to be sure, does drink an agreeable dish of tea with the widow. He has been there every evening this month past. How long things are to be in this train, heaven oriy knows. But he does visit there, and I attend him. I ask my master, Sir, says 1. what time will you please to want me? He fixes the hour, and I strut by Mrs Mignionet, without so much as tipping her a single glance. She stands watering at the mouth, and a pretty fellow that,' says she: Ay, gaze on, say I, gaze on: I know what you would be at: you would be glad to have me: but our grapes, my dear; and so home I come, to cherish my own lovely little wanton: you know I do, and after toying with thee, I fly back to my master, later indeed than he appoints, but always too soon for him. He is loth to part: he lingers and dangles, and I stand cooling my heels. Oh! to the devil I pitch such a life! Mus. Why don't you strive to reclaim the vile man? Will. Softly; not so fast. I have my talent to be sure; yes, I must acknowledge some talent. But can you suppose that I have power to turn the drift of his inclinations? Can I give him a new taste, and lead him as I please? And to whom? To his wife? Ridiculous! A wife has no attraction now; the spring of the passions flies back; it won't do. Mus. Fine talking! and you admire yourself for it, don't you? Can you proceed, sir? Will. I tell you a wife is out of date: the time was, but that's all over: a wife is a drug now; mere tar-water, with every virtue under heaven, but nobody takes it. Mus. Have done, or I'll print these ten nails upon your rogue's face. Will. Come and kiss me, I say. Mus. A fiddlestick for your kisses, while you encourage your master to open rebellion against the best of wives. Will. I tell you 'tis all her own fault. Why does not she study to please him as you do me? Come and throw your arms about my neck. Mus. As I used to do, Mr Impudence? Will. Then I must force you to your own good. [Kisses her.] Pregnant with delight! egad, if my master was not in the next room- [Bell rings. Mus. Hush! my lady's bell: how long has he been up? Will. He has been up-[Kisses her.]-'Sdeath! you have set me all on fire. [Kisses her. Mus. There, there; have done now; the bell rings again. What must I say? When did he come home? Will. He came home-[Kisses her.]-he came home at five this morning; damned himself for a blockhead; [hisses.] went to bed in a surly humour; was tired of himself and every body else; [Bell rings, he kisses her.] and he is now in tiptoe spirits with Sir Brilliant Fashion in that room yonder. Mus. Sir Brilliant Fashion? I wish my lady would mind what he says to her-You great bear! you have given me such a flush in my face! [Takes a pocket cooking-guss] I look pretty well, I think. There [Kisses him.] have done, and let me be gone. (Erit. Will. There goes high and low life contrasted in one person. She has not dived to the bottom of my master's secrets; that's one good thing. What she knows, she'll blab. We shall hear of this widow from Bath: but the plot lies deeper than they are aware of. Inquire they will; and let 'em, say I; their answer will do 'em no good. 'Mr Lovemore visit the widow Bellmour? We know no such person.' That's what they'll get for their pains. Their puzzle will be greater than ever, and they may sit down to chew the cud of disappointed malice.-Hush! my master and Sir Brilliant: I'll take care of a single rogue, and get me out of their way. [Exit. Enter LOVEMORE and Sir BRILLIANT. Love. My dear Sir Brilliant, I must both pity and laugh at you. Thou art metamorphosed into the most whimsical being! Sir Brit. If your raillery diverts you, go on with it. This is always the case: apply for sober advice, and your friend plays you off with a joke. Love. Sober advice! very far gone indeed. There is no such thing as talking soberly to the tribe of lovers. That eternal absence of mind that possesses you all! There is no society with you. I was damnable company myself, when I was one of the pining herd: but a dose of matrimony has cooled me pretty handsomely; and here comes repetatur haustus. Enter MUSLIN. Mus. My lady sends her compliments, and bege to know how you do this morning. Love. [Aside to Sir BRIL.] The novelty of the compliment is enlivening-It is the devil to be teased in this manner.-What did you say, child? Mus. My lady hopes you find yourself well this morning. Love. Ay, your lady :-give her my compliments, and tell her-and tell her I hope she is well, and [Yawns. Mus. She begs you won't think of going out without seeing her. Love. To be sure, she has such variety every | shrinks back from your observation, casting a sly, slow, jealous eye all round him, like Miss Bumpkin in a country village, awkwardly endeavouring to conceal what the increase of her shape discovers to the whole parish. time one sees her-my head aches wofully-tell your lady-I shall be glad to see her; I'll wait on her-[Yawns] tell her what you will. Mus. A brute!—I shall let my lady know, sir, [Exit. Love. My dear Sir Brilliant, you see me an example before your eyes. Put the widow Bellmour out of your head, and let my Lord Ethe-hates her. His fear of ridicule may be at the bottom. ridge be the victim for you. Sir Bril. Positively no; my pride is piqued. My Lord Etheridge shall find me a more formidable rival than he imagines. By the way, how long has the noble peer been in England? Love. His motions are unknown to me.-[Aside.] I don't like that question.-His lordship is in France, is not he? Sir Bril. No; he is certainly returned. The match is to be concluded privately. He visits her incog. Love. [Forcing a laugh.] Oh! no; that cann't be; my Lord Etheridge loves parade. I cannot help laughing. The jealousy of you lovers is for ever conjuring up phantoms to torment yourselves. My dear Sir Brilliant, wait for realities; there are enough in life, and you may teach your fancy to be at rest, and give you no further trouble. Sir Bril. Nay, don't let your fancy run away with you. What I tell you, is the real truth. Love. Well, if it be true, and if Lord Etheridge is come to England to marry, do you go to France not to marry, and you will have the best of the bargain. Enter WILLIAM. Will. Sir Bashful Constant is in his chariot at the upper end of the street, and if your honour is at leisure, he will wait upon you. Love. Have not I sent him word I should be at home? Let him come as soon as he will. [Exit WILLIAM.] Another instance, Sir Brilliant, to deter you from all thoughts of matrimony. Sir Bril. Po! hang him; he is no precedent for me. A younger brother, who lived in middling life, comes to a title and an estate on the death of a consumptive baronet; marries a woman of quality, and now carries the primitive ideas of his narrow education into high life. Don't you remember when he had chambers in Fig-treecourt, and used to saunter and lounge away his time in Temple coffee-houses? The fellow is as dull as a bill in Chancery. Love. But he is improved since that time. Sir Bril. Impossible; don't you see how he goes on? He knows nothing of the world; if his eyes meet yours, he blushes up to his ears, and looks suspicious, as if he imagined you had a design upon him. Love. I can explain that part of his character. He has a mortal aversion to wit and raillery, and dreads nothing so much as being laughed at for being particular. Sir Bril. And so, fearing to be ridiculous, he becomes substantially so every moment. Love. Even so, and if you look at him, he Sir Bril. And then his behaviour to his lady! He has strange notions about the dignity of a hus- Sir Bril. Lady Constant, you mean, has fits of good-nature. Have you made any progress there? Love. That's well from you, who are the for midable man in that quarter. Sir Bril. Oh! no; positively, no pretence, no colour for it. Love. Don't I know that you have made advances? Sir Bril. Advances! I pity my Lady Constant, and Love. Well, that's generous-Hush! I hear him coming. Sir Brilliant, I admire your amorous cha rity of all things! Enter Sir BASHFUL CONSTANT, Sir Bash. Mr Lovemore, I have taken the liberty-but you seem to be busy, and I intrude perhaps. Love. Oh, by no means: walk in, Sir Bashful. Sir Bash. Sir Brilliant, I am glad to see you. [Bows awkwardly. Sir Bril. You do me honour, sir. I hope you left my lady well. Sir Bash. I cann't say, sir; I am not her phy sician. Sir Bril. [Aside.] An absurd brute !-Lovemore, I'll just step and pay a short visit to our friend over the way. Love. Why in such a hurry? Sir Bril. I shall return immediately. I'll be with you before you are dressed. Sir Bashful, I kiss your hand. [Brit. Sir Bash. I am glad he is gone. I have something, Mr Lovemore, that I want to advise with you about. Love. Have you? Sir Bash. I have had another brush with my wife. Love. I am sorry for it, Sir Bashful.—{Aside.] I am perfectly glad of it. She Sir Bash. Pretty warm the quarrel was. took it in a high tone. Sir Bashful, says she, I wonder you will disgrace yourself at this rate. You know my pin-money is not sufficient. The mercer and every body dunning me! I cann't go on after this fashion, says she, and then something about her quality. You know, Mr Lovemore, [Smiting.] she is a woman of high quality. Love. Yes, and a very fine woman. yet-[Looks at him and smiles.] Do you think her a fine woman? Love. Undoubtedly; where do you see any body that outshines her? Sir Bash. Why to be sure-[Smiling.] one does not often see her eclipsed. I think she is what you may call a fine woman. She keeps good company. Love. The very best. Sir Bash. Yes, yes; your tiptop, none else.And yet to encourage her too far were dangerous. Too complying a husband makes but a sorry figure in the eyes of the world. Love. The world will talk, Sir Bashful. Sir Bush. Too fast, Mr Lovemore. Their tongues will run on, and one does not like to give them a subject. I answered her stoutly: Madam, says I, a fig for your quality: I am master in my own house, and who do you think-[Winks at LOVEMORE.] putting myself in a passion, you know-Who do you think is to pay for your cats and your dogs, and your monkeys, and your squirrels, and your gaming debts? Love. How could you? That was sharply said. Sir Bash. Yes; I gave it her. But for all that I am main good-natured at the bottom. Love. You was not earnest then? Sir Bash. No, no; that's the point; a man must keep up his own dignity. I'll tell you what I did. say. Love. Well;-you did what's proper, I dare at me. Sir Bash. I hope you'll think so.-Don't laugh -Come, I will tell you. I went to her mercer slily, and paid him the money. [Smiling. Love. Did you? Sir Bash. [Looking alarmed.] Was it not right? Love. It was elegant. took care Sir Bash. I am glad you approve. to save appearances. One would not have the world know it. Love. By no means. Sir Bash. It would make them think me too uxorious. Love. So it would-[Aside.] I must encourage that notion. While you live, guard against being too uxorious. Though our wives deserve our fondness, the world will laugh at us ;—and, hark ye, if our wives don't deserve it, they'll laugh at us the more. Sir Bash. I know it. And so, says I, Mr Lutestring, there's your money, but tell no body that I paid it slily. Love. Why, that's doing a genteel thing by stratagem.-Admirably contrived! Sir Bash. I think it was. But I have a deep er secret for you. Love. Have you? Sir Bush. I have.-May I trust you? Love. Now there you hurt me. I feel that, Sir Bash. He does not value her a pinch of [Aside. snuff. Love. Well, I am all attention. Sir Bash. It does not signify. A foolish affair; I won't trouble you. Love. Nay, that's unkind. It will be no trouble. Sir Bash. Well, well, I-I-Do you think Muslin did not overhear us? Love. Not a syllable. Come, we are safe. Sir Bash. I don't know but-let me ask you a question first. -Have you any regard for your lady? Love. The highest value for her. But then you know appearances Sir Bush. Right!-I repose it with you.-You must know, Mr Lovemore, as I told you, I am at the bottom very good-natured, and though it may be thought- -we are interrupted again. Enter Sir BRILLIANT. Sir Bril. Lovemore, I have paid my visit. Love. Pshaw!-this is unlucky-You are as good as your word, Sir Brilliant. Sir Bril. Perhaps you have business? Sir Bash. No, no business-[Turns to LOVEMORE.] there's no proceeding now-I was going too, Sir Brilliant. Mr Lovemore, I wish you a good day. Love. Po! Pr'ythee, you sha'n't leave me yet. Sir Bash. I must; I cann't stay. [Aside to LOVEMORE.] Another time. Suppose you call at my house at one o'clock. Love. With all my heart. Sir Bash. Do so; nobody shall interrupt us.— Mr Lovemore, I take my leave. Sir Brilliant, I kiss your hand. You won't forget, Mr Love more? Love. Oh! no; depend upon me. Sir Bash. A good morning. He is the only [Erit. friend I have. Love. Ha, ha! you broke in in the most critical moment. He was just going to be delivered of his secret. Sir Bril. I beg your pardon. How could you Love. Nay, no matter. I shall worm it out of him. let me? Enter MUSLIN. Mus. My lady, sir, is quite impatient. Love. Po! for ever teasing! I'll wait upon her [Exit MUSLIN. presently. Sir Bril. I'll step and chat with her while you dress. May I take the liberty? |