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mon Pure, and keep him with you. Make meaneth this struggling within me? I feel the the right use of this. Adieu.-Excellent well! spirit resisteth the vanities of this world, but [Aside. the flesh is rebellious, yea, the flesh-I greatly fear the flesh and the weakness thereof
Obad. Dost thou hear this?
[To Simon Pure. hum-1) Simon. Yea, but it moveth me not: that doubtless is the impostor.
[Pointing at the Colonel.
Col. F. Ah! thou wicked one-now I consider thy face, I remember thou didst come
Obad. The maid is inspir'd. [Aside] Prodigious! The damsel is filled with the spirit Sarah.
Enter MRS. PRIM.
up in the leathern conveniency with me- Mrs. P. I am greatly rejoiced to see such thou hadst a black bob-wig on, and a brown a change in our beloved Anne. I came to camblet coat with brass buttons-Canst thou tell thee that supper stayeth for thee.
deny it, ha?
Simon. Yes, I can, and with a safe science too, friend.
Obad. Verily, friend, thou art the impudent villain I ever saw,
Col. F. I am not disposed for thy food; con- my spirit longeth for more delicious meat!fain would I redeem this maiden from the most tribe of sinners, and break those cords asunder wherewith she is bound-humMiss L. Something whispers in my ears,
Miss L. Nay, then, I'll have a fling at him. [Aside] I remember the face of this fellow methinks- that I must be subject to the will at Bath-Ay, this is he that pick'd my lady of this good man, and from him only must Raffle's pocket in the grove-Don't you re- hope for consolation-hum-It also telleth me member that the mob pump'd 1) you, friend? that I am a chosen vessel to raise up seed -This is the most notorious rogueto the faithful, and that thou must consent Simon. What does provoke thee to seek my that we two be one flesh according to the life? Thou wilt not hang me, wilt thou, word-humwrongfully?
Obad. What a revelation is here! This is Obad. She will do thee no hurt, nor thou certainly part of thy vision, friend; this is shalt do me none; therefore get thee about the maiden's growing unto thy side: ah! with thy business, friend, and leave thy wicked what willingness should I give thee my concourse of life, or thou mayst not come off so sent, could I give thee her fortune too-but favourably every where. Simon, I pray thee, thou wilt never get the consent of the wicked put him forth.
Col. F. Go, friend, I would advise thee, Col. F. I wish I was sure of yours. [Aside. and tempt thy fate no more. Obad. Thy soul rejoiceth, yea, rejoiceth, I Simon. Yes, I will go; but it shall be to say, to find the spirit within thee; for lo, it thy confusion; I shall clear myself; I will moveth thee with natural agitation-yea, with return with some proofs that shall convince natural agitation towards this good man-yea, thee, Obadiah, that thou art highly imposed on. it stirreth, as one may say yea, verily I say, [Exit. it stirreth up thy inclination-yea, as staying for would stir a pudding. shall I do? All. Hum!
Col. F. Then there will be no me, that's certain-what the devil
[Aside. Miss L. I see, I see! the spirit guiding of Obad. What monstrous works of iniquity thy hand, good Obadiah Prim, and now beare there in this world, Simon? hold thou art signing thy consent--and now Col. F. Yea, the age is full of vice-'Sdeath, I see myself within thy arms, my friend and I am so confounded I know not what to say. brother, yea, I am become bone of thy bone, [Aside. and flesh of thy flesh. [Embracing him] Obad. Thou art disorder'd, friend,-art thou Humnot well?
Mrs. P. The spirit hath greatly moved them Col. F. My spirit is greatly troubled, and both-friend Prim, thou must consent; there's something telleth me, that though I have no resisting of the spirit!
wrought a good work in converting this maiden, Obad. Fetch me the pen and ink, Sarahthis tender maiden, yet my labour will be and my hand shall confess its obedience to in vain: for the evil spirit fighteth against her: the spirit. [Exit Mrs. Prim. and I see, yea I see with the eye of my in- Col. F. I wish it were over. ward man, that satan will re-buffet her again, Re-enter MRS. PRIM, with Pen and Ink. whenever I withdraw myself from her; and Miss L. I tremble lest this quaking rogue she will, yea, this very damsel will return again to that abomination from whence I have should return, and spoil all. Aside. retriev'd her, as it were, yea, as if it were out of the jaws of the fieud.
Miss L. I must second him. [Aside] What
Obad. Here, friend, do thou write what the spirit prompteth, and I will sign it.
[Col. L. sits down.
Col. F. [Reads] This is to certify all 1) This hum is intended to express the long sigh, or rather groan, that is performed by the Quakers, at the end of a speech to which the spirit has moved them. The actor makes this irresistibly comic on the stage, by clasping his hands, sticking his elbows close to his side, his feet close-joined and completely straight, head and eyes raised towards the ceiling, and then, in this position, raises himself on his toes at the beginning of the word hu-and enforces the emphasis by degrees coming down again en his heels at the full point-m his thumbs twirling rapidly in the mean time."
whom it may concern, that I do freely Trude. Harkye, miss Lovely, one word with give all my right and title in Anne Lovely, you. [Takes hold of her Hand. to Simon Pure, and my full consent that Col. F. This maiden is my wife, thanks to my she shall become his wife according to the friend Prim, and thou hast no business with form of marriage. Witness my hand. her. [Takes her from him, Obad. That's enough-give me the pen. Trade. His wife! harkye, Mr. Freeman. Per. Why you have made a very fine piece of work of it, Mr. Prim.
Enter BETTY, running to MISS LOVELY. Betty. Oh! madam, madam, here's the quaking man again: he has brought a coach--there's a husband for a young lady! man, and two or three more.
Sir P. Married to a quaker! thou art a fine fellow to be left guardian to an orphan truly
Miss L. Ruin'd past redemption!
Col. F. When I have put on my beau clothes, sir Philip, you'll like me betterSir P. Thou wilt make a very scurvy beau
[Aside to the Colonel. Col. F. No, no; one minute sooner had-friendspoil'd all; but now-here's company coming, friend, give me the paper. [Going to Prim hastily. Obad. Here it is, Simon; and I wish thee happy with the maiden.
Col. F. I believe I can prove it under your hand that you thought me a very fine gentleman in the Park t'other day, about thirty-six minutes after eleven; will you take a pinch, sir Philip?-One of the finest snuff-boxes you Miss L.'Tis done; and now,devil,do thy worst. ever saw. [Offers him snuff. Sir P. Ha, ha, ha! I am overjoyed, 'faith I Enter SIMON PURE, Coachman, and others. am, if thou be'st the gentleman-I own I did Simon. Look thee, friend, I have brought give my consent to the gentleman I brought these people to satisfy thee that I am not that here to-day-but whether this is he I can't be impostor which thou didst take me for: this positive.
is the man that did drive the leathern con- Obad. Canst thou not!-Now I think thou veniency, and brought me from Bristol-and art a fine fellow to be left guardian to an orthis is phan.-Thou shallow-brain'd shuttlecock, he may Col. F. Lookye, friend, to save the court be a pickpocket for aught thou dost know. the trouble of examining witnesses-I plead Per. You would have been two rare fellows guilty, ha, ha! to have been entrusted with the sole manageObad. How's this? Is not thy name Pure then? ment of her fortune, would ye not, think ye? Col. F. No, really, sir; I only made bold But Mr. Tradelove and myself shall take care with this gentleman's name-but here I give of her portion.
it up safe and sound: it has done the business Trade. Ay, ay, so we will-Didn't you tell I had occasion for, and now I intend to wear me the Dutch merchant desired me to meet my own, which shall be at his service upon him here, Mr. Freeman? the same occasion at any time.-Ha, ha, ha! Simon. Oh! the wickedness of the age!
Free. I did so, and I am sure he will be here, if you'll have a little patience.
[Exit Coachman, etc. Cot. F. What, is Mr. Tradelove impatient? Obad. I am struck dumb with thy impu- Nay, then, ib ben gereet voor your, he be, dence, Anne; thou hast deceiv'd me-and per- Jan Van Timtamtirelereletta Heer Van Feignchance undone thyself.
Mrs. P. Thou art a dissembling baggage, and Trade. Oh! pox of the name! what have shame will overtake thee. [Exit. you trick'd me too, Mr. Freeman?
Simon. I am grieved to see thy wife so much troubled: I will follow and console her. [Exit.
Serv. Thy brother guardians inquire for thee: here is another man with them.
Miss L. Who can that other man be?
Col. F. Trick'd, Mr. Tradelove! did not I give you two thousand pounds for your consent fairly? And now do you tell a gentleman he has trick'd you?
Per. So, so, you are a pretty guardian, 'faith, to sell your charge: what, did you look upon her as part of your stock?
Obad. Ha, ha, ha! I am glad thy knavery is found out, however-I confess the maiden overreached me, and I had no sinister end at all.
Per. Ay, ay, one thing or other over-reached Enter SIR PHILIP MODELOVE, TRADELOVE, you all, but I'll take care he shall never finPERIWINKLE, and FREEMAN. ger a penny of her money, I warrant youFree. Is all safe? Did my letter do you ser- over-reach'd, quotha! Why I might have been [Aside to the Colonel. over-reach'd too, if I had no more wit: I don't Col F. All, all's safe! ample service. [Aside. know but this very fellow may be him that Sir P. Miss Nancy, how dost do, child? was directed to me from Grand Cairo t'other Miss L. Don't call me miss, friend Philip; my name is Anne, thou knowest.
Sir P. What, is the girl metamorphos'd? Miss L. I wish thou wert so metamorphos'd. Ah! Philip, throw off that gaudy attire, and wear the clothes becoming thy age.
day. Ha, ha, ha!
Col. F. The very same.
Per. Are you so, sir? but your trick would not pass upon me.
Col. F. No, as you say, at that time it did not, that was not my lucky hour-but, harkye, Obad. I am ashamed to see these men. [Aside. sir, I must let you into one secret-you may Sir P. My age! the woman is possess'd. keep honest John Tradescant's coat on, for Col. F. No, thou art possess'd rather, friend. your uncle, sir Toby Periwinkle, is not dead
-so the charge of mourning will be saved, dam, who understands dress and good breedha, ha, ha!-Don't you remember Mr. Pillage, ing. I was resolved she should have one of your uncle's steward? Ha, ha, ha! my choosing.
Per. Not dead! I begin to fear I am trick'd too. Col. F. Don't you remember the signing of a lease, Mr. Periwinkle?
Per. Well, and what signifies that lease, if my uncle is not dead?-Ha! I am sure it was a lease I signed.
Trade. A beau! nay, then, she is finely help'd up.
Miss L. Why beaus are great encouragers of trade, sir, ha, ha, ha!
Col. F. Lookye, gentlemen-I am the person who can give the best account of myself; Col. F. Ay, but it was a lease for life, sir, and I must beg sir Philip's pardon, when I and of this beautiful tenement, I thank you. tell him, that I have as much aversion to what [Taking hold of Miss Lovely. he calls dress and breeding, as I have to the Omnes. Ha, ha, ha! Neighbour's fare. enemies of my religion. I have had the hoFree. So then, I find, you are all trick'd, ha, ha! nour to serve his majesty, and headed a regiPer. I am certain I read as plain a lease ment of the bravest fellows that ever push'd as ever I read in my life. bayonet in the throat of a Frenchman; and Col. F. You read a lease I grant you; but notwithstanding the fortune this lady brings you sign'd this contract. [Showing a Paper. me, whenever my country wants my aid, this Per. How durst you put this trick upon sword and arm are at her service. me, Mr. Freeman? Didn't you tell me my uncle was dying?
Free. And would tell you twice as much to serve my friend, ha, ha!
Sir. P. What, the learned and famous Mr. Periwinkle chous'd too!-Ha, ha, ha!—I shall die with laughing, ha, ha, ha!
Trade. Well, since you have out-witted us all, pray you what and who are you, sir? Sir P. Sir, the gentleman is a fine gentleman. I am glad you have got a person, ma
And now, my fair, if thou'lt but deign to smile,
THE BUSY BODY,
ACTED at the Theatre Royal in Drurylane 1709. At the rehearsal of it, Mr. Wilks had so mean on opinion of his part (Sir George Airy) that one morning in a passion he threw it off the stage into the pit, and swore that nobody would sit to hear such stuff. The poor frighted poetess (Mrs. Centlivre) begged him with tears to take it up again, which be did mutteringly and about the latter end of April the play was acted for the first time. There had been scarcely any thing mentioned of it in the town before it came out; but those who had heard of it, were told it was a silly thing Written by a woman; that the players had no opinion of it, etc. and on the first day there was a very poor house, scarcely charges. Under these circumstances it cannot be supposed that the play appeared to much advantage; the audience caly came there for want of another place to go to; but without any expectation of being much diverted. They wire Jawning at the beginning of it, but were agreeably surprised, more and more every act, till at last the house rung with as much applause as was possible to be given by so thin an audience. The next day there was a better house, and the third crowded for the benefit of the author, and so it continued till the thirteenth. To do justice to the auther, it must be confessed, that although the language of it is very indifferent, and the plot mingled with some improbabilities, yet the amusing sprightliness of business, and the natural impertinence in the character of Marplot, make tensiderable amends for the above-mentioned deficiencies, and render it even to this hour an entertaining performance. The dumb scene of Sir George with Miranda, and the history of the garden gate, are both borrowed from Ben Jonsea's comedy of The Devil's an Ass. This play was dedicated to Lord Somers. Sir Richard Steele, speaking of it, says, "The plot and the incidents are laid with that subtility of spirit which is peculiar to females of wit, and is very seldom well performed by those of the other sex, in whom craft in love is an act of intention, and not, as with women, the effect of nature and instinct."
Sir G. There are some men, Charles, whom fortune has left free from inquietudes, who are diligently studious to find out ways and means to make themselves uneasy.
Enter SIR GEORGE AIRY, meeting CHARLES Charles. HA! sir George Airy a birding Charles. Is it possible that any thing in nathus early! What forbidden game rous'd you ture can ruffle the temper of a man whom so soon? for no lawful occasion could invite the four seasons of the year compliment with a person of your figure abroad at such un- as many thousand pounds; nay, and a father fashionable hours 1). at rest with his ancestors?
1) The people of fashion in London, in order to avoid their aversion, mixing with persons of any other rank than their own, turn the night into day, and the day|
into night; so that noon with them is generally early in the morning, and in their calculation of time, the words afternoon and night are entirely left out
Sir G. Why, there it is now! a man that he intend to do with Miranda? Is she to be wants money thinks none can be unhappy sold in private, or will he put her up by way that has it; but my affairs are in such a whim- of auction, at who bids most? If so, 'egad I'm sical posture that it will require a calculation for him; my gold, as you say, shall be subof my nativity to find if my gold will relieve servient to my pleasure. Charles. To deal ingenuously with you, sir Charles. Ha, ha, ha! never consult the stars George, I know very little of her or home; about that; gold has a power beyond them. for since my uncle's death, and my return Then what can thy business be that gold won't from travel, I have never been well with my serve thee in?
me or not.
Sir G. Why I'm in love.
Charles. In love!-Ha, ha, ha, ha! in love! -Ha, ha, ha, ha! with what, pr'ythee? a cherub?
Sir G. No; with a woman.
Charles. A woman! good. Ha, ha, ha, ha! and gold not help thee
father; he thinks my expenses too great, and I his allowance too little; he never sees me but he quarrels, and to avoid that I shun his house as much as possible. The report is he intends to marry her himself.
Sir G. Can she consent to it? Charles. Yes, faith, so they say: but I tell you I am wholly ignorant of the matter. I Sir G. But suppose I'm in love with two-fancy she plays the mother-in-law already, Charles. Ay, if thou'rt in love with two and sets the old gentleman on to do mischief. hundred, gold will fetch 'em, I warrant thee, Sir G. Then I have your free consent to boy. But who are they? who are they? come. get her?
Sir G. One is a lady whose face I never Charles. Ay, and my helping hand, if ocsaw, but witty to a miracle; the other beauti-casion be. ful as Venus
Charles. And a fool
Sir G. Poh! yonder's a fool coming this way; let's avoid him.
Sir G. For aught I know, for I never spoke Charles. What, Marplot? No, no, he's my to her; but you can inform me. I am charm'd instrument; there's a thousand conveniences by the wit of the one, and die for the beauty in him; he'll lend me his money when he has of the other. any, run of my errands, and be proud on it; Charles. And pray which are you in quest in short, he'll pimp for me, lie for me, drink of now? for me, do any thing but fight for me; and I'm that I trust to my own arm for.
Sir G. I prefer the sensual pleasure; for her I've seen, who is thy father's ward, Miranda.
Sir G. Nay, then he's to be endured; I never knew his qualifications before.
Charles. Nay, then I pity you; for the Jew, my father, will no more part with her and Enter MARPLOT, with a Patch across his thirty thousand pounds than he would with a guinea to keep me from starving.
Sir G. Now you see gold can't do every thing, Charles.
Charles. Yes; for 'tis her gold that bars my father's gate against you.
Mar. Dear Charles, yours-Ha! sir George Airy! the man in the world I have an ambition to be known to! [Aside] Give me thy hand, dear boy.
Charles. A good assurance! But harkye, how Sir G. Why, if he be this avaricious wretch, came your beautiful countenance clouded in how cam'st thou by such a liberal education? the wrong place?
Charles. Not a souse out of his pocket, I Mar. I must confess 'tis a little mal-a-proassure you: I had an uncle who defray'd that pos; but no matter for that. A word with charge; but for some little wildness of youth, you, Charles. Pr'ythee introduce me to sir though he made me his heir, left dad my George-he is a man of wit, and I'd give ten guardian till I came to years of discretion, guineas towhich I presume the old gentleman will never think I am; and now he has got the estate into his clutches, it does me no more good than if it lay in Prester John's 1) dominions. Sir G. What, canst thou find no stratagem to redeem it?
Charles. When you have 'em, you mean. Mar. Ay, when I have 'em; pugh, pox, you cut the thread of my discourse-I would give ten guineas, I say, to be rank'd in his acquaintance. But, pr'ythee, introduce me.
Charles. I have made many essays to no purpose; though want, the mistress of invention, still tempts me on, yet still the old fox is too cunning for me. I am upon my last project, which if it fails, then for my last re-a fuge, a brown musket. 2)
Sir G. What is't? can I assist thee? Charles. Not yet; when you can, I have confidence_enough in you to ask it.
Charles. Well, on condition you'll give us a true account how you came by that mourning nose, I will.
Mar. I'll do it.
Charles. Sir George, here's a gentleman has passionate desire to kiss your hand.
Sir G. Oh! I honour men of the sword! and I presume this gentleman is lately come from Spain or Portugal-by his scars.
Mar. No really, sir George, mine sprung Sir G. I am always ready. But what does from civil fury. Happening last night into the groom porter's-I had a strong inclination to 1) A certain priest of the name of John, is said to have go ten guineas with a sort of a, sort of atravelled into the mountains of Thibet, and there to kind of a milksop, as I thought. A pox of the
have founded the religion of Dalai Lama, sometime
in the 11th century. A farther account is to be seen dice! he flung out, and my pockets being in the History of the Church. empty, as Charles knows they often are, he proved a surly North Briton, and broke my face for my deficiency.
2) The soldiers call their musket, "brown Bess;"
means here to enlist for a soldier.
Sir G. Ha, ha! and did not you draw?
Sir G. What was it, pr'ythee?
upon my sword to make a swift retreat, and friend. he roar'd out. Now the deel a ma sal, sir, Charles. Why, you must know I had lent
gin ye touch yer steel I se whip mine through a certain merchant my hunting horses, and
yer wem. 1)
Sir G. Ha, ha, ha!
Charles. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Safe was the word. So you walk'd off, I
Mar. Yes, for I avoid fighting, purely to be serviceable to my friends, you knowSir G. Your friends are much obliged to you, sir: I hope you'll rank me in that number. Mar. Sir George, a bow from the side-box, 2) or to be seen in your chariot, binds me ever Hit yours.
Sir G. Trifles; you may command 'em when ab you please.
was to have met his wife in his absence. Sending him along with my groom to make the compliment, and to deliver a letter to the lady at the same time, what does he do but gives the asband the letter and offers her the horses!
Mar. Why to be sure I did offer her the horses, and I remember you was even with me, for you denied the letter to be yours, and swore I had a design upon her, which my bones paid for.
Charles. Come, sir George, let's walk round if you are not engaged, for I have sent my man upon a little earnest business, and I have ordered him to bring me the answer into the Park.
Charles. Provided he may command you. Mar. Me! why I live for no other purpose -Sir George, I have the honour to be cares- Mar. Business! and I not know it! Egad sed by most of the reigning toasts3) of the I'll watch him. [Aside. town: I'll tell 'em you are the finest gentleman- Sir G. I must beg your pardon, Charles, I Sir G. No, no, pr'ythee let me alone to tell am to meet your father. the ladies-my parts-Can you convey a let
be ter upon occasion, or deliver a message with an air of business, ha?
Charles. My father!
Sir G. Ay, and about the oddest bargain perhaps you ever heard of; but I'll not impart
Mar. With the assurance of a page and till I know the success. the gravity of a statesman.
Sir G. You know Miranda?
Mar. What! my sister ward? why, her guardian is mine; we are fellow sufferers. Ah, d; he is a covetous, cheating, sanctified curmudgeon: that sir Francis Gripe is a damn'd old !-hypocritical
Charles. Hold, hold; I suppose, friend, you forget that he is my father.
Mar. What can his business be with sir Francis? Now would I give all the world to know it. Why the devil should not one know every man's concerns! [Aside.
Charles. Prosperity to't, whate'er it be: I have private affairs too: over a bottle we'll compare notes.
Mar. Charles knows I love a glass as well as any man; I'll make one; shall it be toMar. 1 ask your pardon, Charles, but it is night? I long to know their secrets. [Aside. for your sake I hate him. Well, I say, the
world is mistaken in him; his outside piety
makes him every man's executor, and his in- Whis. Sir, sir, Mrs. Patch says Isabinda's side cunning makes him every heir's gaoler. Spanish father has quite spoiled the plot, and Egad, Charles, I'm half persuaded that thour't she can't meet you in the Park, but he infalsome ward too, and never of his getting-for libly will go out this afternoon, she says: but never were two things so unlike as you and I must step again to know the hour. your father; he scrapes up every thing, and Mar. What did Whisper say now? I shall thou spend'st every thing; every body is in-go stark mad if I'm not let into the secret. debted to him, and thou art indebted to every body.
Charles. You are very free, Mr. Marplot. Mar. Ay, I give and take, Charles-you may be as free with me, you know.
Sir G. A pleasant fellow.
Charles. Curst misfortune! Mar. Curst! what's curst, Charles? Charles. Come along with me, my feels pleasure at her name. Sir George, yours; we'll meet at the old place, the usual hour. Sir G. Agreed. I think I see sir Francis yonder.
Charles. The dog is diverting sometimes, or there would be no enduring his impertinence. He is pressing to be employed, and willing to execute; but some ill fate generally am engag'd. attends all he undertakes, and he oftener spoils an intrigue than helps it.
Mar. I have always your good word, but if I miscarry 'tis none of my fault; I follow my instructions.
Charles. Yes, witness the merchant's wife.
Charles. Marplot, you must excuse me; 1 [Exit. Mar. Engag'd! 'Egad, I'll engage my life I'll know what your engagement is. [Exit. Mir. Let the chair wait. My servant that dogg'd sir George said he was in the Park.
Ha! miss Patch alone! did not you tell me you had contrived a way to bring Isabinda
1) Now the devil have my soul, sir, if ye touch your to the Park?
Patch. Oh, madam, your ladyship can't 2) The side-box at the Theatre, where the English belles imagine what wretched disappointment we and beaux sport their best looks, and dresses, have met with! Just as I had fetch'd a suit of 5) Ladies who on account of their beauty (sometimes on my clothes for a disguise, comes my old master account of their philanthropy) nsed to be toasted (to into his closet, which is right against her
have their healths drunk), in all fashionable societies
chamber door: this struck us into a terrible