THE DOUBLE DEALER, Comedy by W. Congreve, acted at the Theatre Royal 169. This is the second play this author wrote; the characters of it are strongly drawn, the wit is genuine and original, the plot finely laid, and the conduct inimitable: yet such is, and ever has been, the capricious disposition of audiences, that it met not equal encouragement with his Old Bachelor (in some respects a much more exceptionable play), nor had it the same success with his later performances. SCENE. A Gallery in LORD TOUCHWOOD's House, with Chambers adjoining. ACT I. 'egad, I could not have said it out of thy SCENE I-A Gallery in LORD TOUCHWOOD's Company. Careless, ha? House. Care. Hum, ay, what is't? Brisk. O mon coeur! What is't? Nay, 'gad, CARELESS crosses the Stage, as just risen I'll punish you for want of apprehension: the deuce take me, if I tell you. Mel. No, no, hang him, he has no taste. But, dear Brisk, excuse me; I have a little from Table; MELLEFONT following. Mel. NED, Ned, whither so fast? What, turned flincher? 1) Why, you wo'ndt leave us? Care. Where are the women? I'm weary business. of drinking, and begin to think them the better company. Mel. Then thy reason staggers, and thou'rt almost tipsy. Care. Pr'ythee, get thee gone; thou seest we are serious. But Mel. We'll come immediately, if you'll but go in and keep up good humour and sense in Care. No, faith, but your fools grow noisy; the company; pr'ythee do, they'll fall asleep else. and if a man must endure the noise of words Brisk. Egad, so they will. Well, I will, without sense, I think the women have more I will: 'gad, you shall command me from the musical voices, and become nonsense better. zenith to the nadir. But, the deuce take me, Mel. Why, they are at the end of the if I say a good thing till you come. gallery, retired to their tea and scandal. But pr'ythee, dear rogue, make haste; pr'ythec, I made a pretence to follow you, because I make haste, I shall burst else; and yonder had something to say to you in private, and your uncle, my lord Touchwood, swears he'll I am not like to have many opportunities disinherit you; and Sir Paul Pliant threatens this evening. to disclaim you for a son-in-law; and my Care. And here's this coxcomb most criti-lord Froth won't dance at your wedding tocally come to interrupt you, Enter BRISK. a Brisk. Boys, boys, lads, where are you? What, do you give ground? Mortgage for bottle, ha? Careless, this is your trick; you're always spoiling company by leaving it. Care. And thou art always spoiling company by coming into't. morrow; nor, the deuce take me, I won't write your epithalamium; and see what a condition you're like to be brought to. Mel. Well, I'll speak but three words, and follow you. Brisk. Enough, enough. Careless, bring your apprehension along with you. Care. Pert coxcomb! [Exit. Mel. Faith, 'tis a good-natured coxcomb, Brisk. Pho! ha, ha, ha! I know you envy and has very entertaining follies; you must me. Spite, proud spite, by the gods, and be more humane to him; at this juncture it burning envy. I'll be judged by Mellefont will do me service. I'll tell you, I would here, who gives and takes raillery better, you have mirth continued this day at any rate, or I. Pshaw, man, when I say you spoil though patience purchase folly, and attention company by leaving it, I mean you leave be paid with noise: there are times when nobody for the company to laugh at. I think sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth; there I was with you. Ha, Mellefont? pr'ythee, do thou wear none to-day; but allow Mel. O'my word, Brisk, that was a home Brisk to have wit, that thou may'st seem thrust: you have silenced him. a fool. Brisk. O, my dear Mellefont, let me perish, Care. Why, how now? Why this extraif thou art not the soul of conversation, the vagant proposition? very essence of wit, and spirit of wine. The Mel. O, I would have no room for serious deuce take me, if there were three good design, for I am jealous of a plot. I would things said, or one understood, since thy have noise and impertinence, to keep my lady amputation from the body of our society. He! Touchwood's head from working, I think, that's pretty, and metaphorical enough: Care, I thought your fear of her had been over. Is not to-morrow appointed for your 1) To he afraid of drinking half a dozen bottles of claret marriage with Cynthia? and her father, sir bottle; but very happily at the present day, drinking Paul Pliant, come to settle the writings this is not one of the necessary accomplishments; and a day, on purpose? party of Englishmen can meet together now, enjoy at a sitting, used to be called flinching from your themselves, and separate, without being any thing more, Mel. True; but you shall judge whether I have not reason to be alarmed. None, besides than a little merry. you and Maskwell, are acquainted with the Care, I'm mistaken if there be not a fasecret of my aunt Touchwood's violent passion miliarity between them you do not suspect, for me. Since my first refusal of her ad- for all her passion for you. dresses, she has endeavoured to do me all Mel. Pho, pho! nothing in the world but ill offices with my uncle; yet has managed his design to do me 'service; and he endeavours 'em with that subtilty, that to him they have to be well in her esteem that he may be able borne the face of kindness; while her malice, to effect it. like a dark lantern, only shone upon me Care. Well, I shall be glad to be mistaken; where it was directed; but, whether urg'd but your aunt's aversion in her revenge, canby her despair, and the short prospect of time not be any way so effectually shown, as in she saw to accomplish her designs, whether promoting a means to disinherit you. She is the hopes of revenge, or of her love, termi- handsome, and cunning, and naturally amorous: nated in the view of this my marriage with Maskwell is flesh and blood at best, and opCynthia, I know not; but this morning she portunities between them are frequent. His surprised me in my own chamber. affection for you, you have confessed, is Care. Was there ever such a fury? Well, grounded upon his interest; that you have bless us! proceed. What followed? transplanted; and, should it take root in my Mel. It was long before either of us spoke; lady, I don't see what you can expect from passion had tied her tongue, and amazement the fruit. But see, the mine. In short, the consequence was thus; Mel. I confess the consequence is visible she omitted nothing that the most violent love were your suspicions just. could urge, or tender words express; which company is broke up: let's meet 'em. when she saw had no effect, but still I pleaded honour and nearness of blood to my uncle, Re-enter BRISK, with LORD TOUCHWOOD, LORD then came the storm I fear'd at first; for, FROTH, and SIR PAUL PLIANT. starting from my bedside, like a fury she flew Lord T. Out upon't, nephew; leave your to my sword, and with much ado I prevented father-in-law and me to maintain our ground her doing me or herself a mischief. Having against young people. disarmed her, in a gust of passion she left me, and in a resolution, confirmed by a thousand curses, not to close her eyes till they had seen my ruin. Mel. I beg your lordship's pardon. We were just returning Sir P. Where you, son? 'Gadsbud, much better as it is-Good, strange! I swear I'm Care. Exquisite woman! But, what the almost tipsy; t'other bottle would have been devil, does she think thou hast no more sense too powerful for me as sure as can be, it than to disinherit thyself? For, as I take it, would: we wanted your company; but, Mr. this settlement upon you is with a proviso Brisk-where is he? I swear and vow he's a that your uncle have no children. most facetious person, and the best company; Mel. It is so. Well, the service you are and, my lord Froth, your lordship is so merry to do me, will be a pleasure to yourself: I must a man, he, he, he! get you to engage my lady Pliant all this Lord F. O fie, sir Paul, what do you mean? evening, that my pious aunt may not work Merry! O, barbarous! I'd as lieve you call'd her to her interest: and if you chance to me-fool. secure her to yourself, you may incline her to mine. She's handsome, and knows it; is very silly, and thinks she has sense; and has on old fond husband. Care. I confess a very fair foundation for a lover to build upon. 1 Sir P. Nay, I protest and vow now 'tis true; when Mr. Brisk jokes, your lordship's laugh does so become you, he, he, he. Lord F. Ridiculous, sir Paul! you are strangely mistaken: I find champaign is powerful. I assure you, sir Paul, I laugh at nobody's Mel. For my lord Froth, he and his wife jest but my own, or a lady's, I assure you, will be sufficiently taken up with admiring sir Paul. one another, and Brisk's gallantry, as they Brisk. How! how, my lord? What, affront call it. I'l observe my uncle myself; and my wit! Let me perish! do I never say any Jack Maskwell has promised me to watch my thing worthy to be laugh'd at? aunt narrowly, and give me notice upon any Lord F. O fie, don't misapprehend me: I suspicion. As for sir Paul, my wise father- don't say so; for I often smile at your conin-law that is to be, my dear Cynthia has ceptions. But there is nothing more unbesuch a share in his fatherly fondness, he coming a man of quality than to laugh: 'tis would scarce make her a moment uneasy to such a vulgar expression of the passion! every have her happy hereafter. body can laugh. Then especially to laugh at Care. So, you have manned your works: the jest of an inferior person, or when any but I wish you may not have the weakest body else of the same quality does not laugh guard, where the enemy is strongest. with him: ridiculous! to be pleased with what pleases the crowd! Now, when I laugh, I always laugh alone. Mel. Maskwell, you mean: pr'ythee, why should you suspect him? Care, Faith, I cannot help it: you know 1 never lik'd him; I am a little superstitious in physiognomy. Mel. He has obligations of gratitude to bind him to me; his dependance upon my uncle is through my means. Care. Upon your aunt, you mean. Brisk. I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests, 'egad; ha, ha, ha! Lord F. He, he! I swear though your raillery provokes me to a smile. Brisk. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you show 'em. Lord F. He, he, he! I swear that's so very pretty, I can't forbear. Lord T. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire prehend.-Take it t'other way: suppose I say to the ladies, and drink a dish of tea to settle a witty thing to you. our heads. Sir P. With all my heart.—Mr. Brisk, you'll come to us or call me when you're going to joke: I'll be ready to laugh incontinently. [Exeunt Lord Touchwood and Sir Paul Pliant. Mel. But does your lordship never see Lord F. Oh no-Never laugh, indeed, sir. Mel. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as well as malicious to them. [To Careless. Care. Then I shall be disappointed indeed. Mel. Let him alone, Brisk; he is obstinately bent not to be instructed. Brisk. I'm sorrry for him, the deuce take me. Mel. Shall we go to the ladies, my lord? Lord F. With all my heart; methinks we are a solitude without 'em. Mel. Or, what say you to another bottle of champaign? Lord F. O, for the universe, not a drop more, I beseech you. Oh, intemperate! I have a flushing in my face already. [Takes out a pocket Glass, and looks in it. Brisk. Let me see, let me see, my lordbroke my glass that was in the lid of my snuff-box. Hum! Deuce take me, I have encouraged a pimple here too. [Takes the Glass, and looks in it. Lord F. Then you must fortify him with a patch; my wife shall supply you. Come, gentlemen, allons. [Exeunt, Lord F. I confess I did myself some violence at first; but now I think have conquered it. Brisk. Let me perish, my lord, but there is something very particular and novel in the humour; 'tis true, it makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some friends of mine that write; for your ladyship's service. but-'egad, I love to be malicious. Nay, deuce take me, there's wit in't too; and wit must be foil'd by wit: cut a diamond with a diamond; no other way, 'egad. Enter MASK WELL and LADY TOUCHWOOD. Lady T. I'll hear no more. You're false and ungrateful; come, I know you false. Mask. I have been frail, I confess, madam, Lord F. Oh, I thought you would not be long before you found out the wit. Care. Wit! in what? Where the devil's the wit, in not laughing when a man has a mind to't? I Lady T. That I should trust a man whom had known betray his friend! · Mask. What friend have I betray'd? or to whom? Lady T. Your fond friend, Mellefont, and to me; can you deny it? Mask. I do not. Lady T. Have you not wrong'd my lord, who has been a father to you in your wants, Brisk. O Lord, why can't you find it out?-and given you being? Have you not wrong'd Why, there 'tis, in the not laughing.-Don't him in the highest manner? you apprehend me?- My lord, Careless is a Mask. With your ladyship's help, and for very honest fellow; but, harkye, you under- your service, as I told you before-I can't stand me, somewhat heavy; a little shallow, deny that neither. Any thing more, madam? or so. Why, I'll tell you now: suppose now Lady T. More, audacious villain! O, what's you come up to me-nay, pr'ythee, Careless, more is most my shame-Have you not disbe instructed-Suppose, as I was saying, you honour'd me? come up to me, holding your sides, and Mask. No, that I deny; for I never told in laughing as if you would-Well! I look grave, all my life; so that accusation's answer'd—on and ask the cause of this immoderate mirth: to the next. you laugh on still, and are not able to tell Lady T. Death! do you dally with my pasme: still I look grave; not so much as smile- sion? insolent devil! But have a care; provoke Care. Smile! no; what the devil should me not; you shall not escape my vengeance. you smile at, when you suppose I can't-Calm villain! how unconcern'd he stands, tell you? confessing treachery and ingratitude! Is there Brisk. Pshaw, pshaw, pr'ythee don't inter- a vice more black? O, I have excuses, thourupt me-but I tell you, you shall tell me at last; but it shall be a great while first. Care. Well, but pr'ythee don't let it be a great while, because I long to have it over. Brisk. Well then, you tell me some good jest, or very witty thing, laughing all the while as if you were ready to die - and I hear it, and look thus; would not you be disappointed? Care. No; for if it were a witty thing, I should not expect you to understand it. sands, for my faults: fire in my temper; passions in my soul, apt to every provocation; oppressed at once with love, and with despair. But a sedate, a thinking villain, whose black blood runs temperately bad, what excuse can clear? Mask. Will you be in temper, madam? I would not talk not to be heard. I have been a very great rogue for your sake, and you reproach me with it; I am ready to be a rogue still to do you service; and you are flinging Lord F. O fie, Mr. Careless; all the world conscience and honour in my face, to rebate allow Mr. Brisk to have wit: my wife says my inclinations. How am I to behave myself? he has a great deal; I hope you think her You know I am your creature: my life and judge. fortune in your power; to disoblige you brings me certain ruin. Allow it, I would betray you, I would not be a traitor to myself: I a Brisk. Pho, my lord, his voice goes for nothing I can't tell how to make him ap don't pretend to honesty, because you know Lady T. How, how? thou dear, thou precious villain, how? Mask. You have already been tampering Lady T. I have: she is ready for any im Mask. Fixed, rooted in my heart, whence nothing can remove 'em; yet you Lady T. Yet; what yet? Mask. Nay, misconceive me not, madam, when I say I have had a generous, and a faithful passion, which you had never favoured but through revenge and policy. Lady T. Ha! You Mask. She must be thoroughly persuaded Lady T. She is so credulous that way naturally, and likes him so well, that she will believe it faster than I can persuade her. But I don't see what you can propose from such a trifling design; for her first conversing with Mellefont will convince her of the contrary. Mask. I know it. I don't depend upon it; but it will prepare something else, and gain us leisure to lay a stronger plot: if I gain a little time, I shall not want contrivance. One minute gives invention to destroy What, to rebuild, will a whole age employ. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-The same. Enter LADY FROTH and CYNTHIA. Cyn. Indeed, madam! is it possible your ladyship could have been so much in love? Lady F. I could not sleep; I did not sleep one wink for three weeks together. Mask. Look you, madam, we are alonecontain yourself, and hear me. pray know you lov'd your nephew, when I first sigh'd for you; I quickly found it: an argument that I loved; for, with that art you veil'd your passion, 'twas imperceptible to all but jealous eyes. This discovery made me bold, I confess it; for by it I thought you in my power: your nephew's scorn of you added to my hopes; I watched the occasion, and took you, just repulsed by him, warm at once with Cyn. Prodigious! I wonder want of sleep, love and indignation; your disposition, my and so much love, and so much wit as your arguments, and happy opportunity, accom- ladyship bas, did not turn your brain. plish'd my design. How I have loved you Lady F. O, my dear Cynthia, you must not since, words have not shown; then how should rally your friend. But really, as you say, I words express? wonder too-But then I had a way; for, beLady T. Well, mollifving devil! and have tween you and I, I had whimsies and I not met your love with forward fire? Mask. Your zeal, 1 grant, was ardent, but misplaced there was revenge in view; that woman's idol had defil'd the temple of the god, and love was made a mock-worship. - A son and heir would have edg'd young Mellefont upon the brink of ruin, and left him nought but you to catch at for prevention. Lady T. Again, provoke me! Do you wind me like a larum, only to rouse my own still'd soul for your diversion? Confusion! but I gave them vent. Cyn. How pray, madam? vapours; Lady F. O, I writ; writ abundantly. — Do you never write? Cyn. Write! what? Lady F. Songs, elegies, satires, encomiums, panegyrics, lampoons, plays, or heroic poems. Cyn. O Lord, not I, madam; I'm content to be a courteous reader. we Lady F. O, inconsistent! In love, and not write! If my lord and I had been both of Mask. Nay, madam, I'm gone, if you re- your temper, we had never come together.lapse. What needs this? I say nothing but O, bless me! what a sad thing would that have what yourself, in open hours of love, have been, if my lord and I should never have met! told me. Why should you deny it? Nay, Cyn. Then neither my lord or you would how can you? Is not all this present heat ever have met with your match, on my conowing to the same fire? Do not you love him science. still? How have I this day offended you, but Lady F. O'my conscience, no more in not breaking off his match with Cynthia? should; thou say'st right; for sure my lord which, ere to-morrow, shall be done, had you Froth is as fine a gentleman, and as much a but patience. man of quality!-Ah! nothing at all of the common air--I think I may say, he wants nothing but a blue ribbon and a star to make Mask. No, by my love, I am your slave; him shine the very phosphorus of our hemithe slave of all your pleasures; and will not sphere. Do you understand those two hard rest till I have given you peace, would you words? If you don't I'll explain 'em to you. suffer me. Cyn. Yes, yes, madam, I'm not so ignorant. Lady T. O, Maskwell, in vain do I disguise-At least I won't own it, to be troubled with me from thee; thou knowest me; knowest the your instructions. [Aside. very inmost windings and recesses of my soul. Lady F. Nay, I beg your pardon; but, beO Mellefont!-Married to-morrow!-Despair ing derived from the Greek, I thought you strikes me. Yet my soul knows I hate him might have escap'd the etymology. But I'm too: let him but once be mine, and next im-the more amazed, to find you a woman of mediate ruin seize him. letters, and not write! Bless me, how can Mel Lady T. How! what said you, Maskwell? -Another caprice to unwind my temper? Mask. Compose yourself; you shall have lefont believe you love him? your wish.-Will that please you? Cyn. Why faith, madam, he that won't take my word shall never have it under my hand. Lord F. D'ye think he'll love you as well Lady F. I vow, Mellefont's a pretty gentle- as I do my wife? I'm afraid not. man; but methinks he wants a manner. Cyn. A manner! what's that, madam? Lady F. Some distinguishing quality; as, for example, the bel air, or brilliant, of Mr. Brisk; the solemnity, yet complaisance, of my lord; or something of his own, that should look a little je-ne-sais-quoi-ish; he is too much a mediocrity, in my mind. Cyn. I believe he'll love me better. Lord F. Heavens! that can never be: but why do you think so? Cyn. He does not, indeed, affect either pertness or formality; for which I like him: here he comes. Lady F. And my lord with him: pray observe the difference. Enter LORD FROTH, MELLEFONT, and BRISK. Cyn. Because he has not so much reason to be fond of himself. Lady F. O, your humble servant for that, dear madam. Well, Mellefont, you'll be a happy creature. Mel. Ay, my lord, I shall have the same reason for my happiness that your lordship has, I shall think myself happy. Lord F. Ah, that's all. Brisk. Your ladyship is in the right; [To Lady Froth but, 'egad, I'm wholly turned when I do-keen iambics, 'egad.—But my lord into satire. I confess I write but seldom; but was telling me, your ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem. Lady F. My lord, I have been telling Cyn- Lady F. Did my lord tell you? Yes, I vow, thia how much I have been in love with you; and the subject is my lord's love to me. And I swear I have; I'm not ashamed to own it what do you think I call it? I dare swear you now; ah! it makes my heart leap; I vow I won't guess-The Syllabub, ha, ha, ha! sigh when I think on't.-My dear lord! Ha, Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, 'egad, ha, ha! do you remember, my lord? ha, ha, ha!—deuce take me, very apropos surprising, ha, ha, ha! and Lady F. Hey, ay, is not it? And then I call my lord Spumoso; and myself-what d'ye [Squeezes him by the Hand, looks kindly on him, sighs, and then laughs out. Lord F. Pleasant creature! Perfectly well. Ah! that look, ay, there it is; who could re-think I call myself? sist? 'Twas so my heart was made a captive first, and ever since it has been in love with happy slavery. Brisk. Lactilla, may be-'gad, I cannot tell. Lady F. Biddy, that's all; just my own name. Brisk. Biddy! 'egad, very pretty - deuce Lady F. O that tongue, that dear deceitful take me, if your ladyship has not the art of tongue! that charming softness in your mien surprising the most naturally in the world. I and your expression!-and then your bow! hope you'll make me happy in communicating Good, my lord, bow as you did when I gave the poem. you my picture. Here, suppose this my pic- Lady F. O, you must be my confidant; I ture-[Gives him a pocket Glass] Pray mind must ask your advice. my lord; ah! he bows charmingly. [Lord Froth bows profoundly low, then kisses the Glass] Nay, my lord, you shan't kiss it so much; I shall grow jealous, I vow now. Lord F. I saw myself there, and kissed it for your sake. Lady F. Ah! gallantry to the last degree. Mr. Brisk, you're a judge; was ever any thing so well bred as my lord? Brisk. Never any thing-but your ladyship, let me perish. Lady F. O, prettily turned again! let me die but you have a great deal of wit.-Mr. Mellefont, don't you think Mr. Brisk has a world of wit? Mel. O yes, madam. Brisk. O heavens, madam— Lady F. More wit than any body. Brisk. I'm everlastingly your humble ser vant, deuce take me, madam. Brisk. I'm your humble servant, let me perish. I presume your ladyship has read Bossu? Lady F. O yes; and Rapin, and Dacier upon Aristotle and Horace. My lord, you must not be jealous, I'm communicating all to Mr. Brisk. Lord F. No, no, I'll allow Mr. Brisk. Have you nothing about you to show him, my dear? Lady F. Yes, I believe I have. Mr. Brisk, come, will you go into the next room? and there I'll show you what I have. [Exit with Brisk. Lord F. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and come to you. [Exit Mel. You're thoughtful, Cynthia. Cyn. I'm thinking that though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em still two fools; and they become more conspicuous by setting off1) one another. Mel. That's only when two fools meet, and their follies are opposed. Cyn. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and by the opposition of their wit, render Lord F. Don't you think us a happy cou-themselves as ridiculous as fools. Matrimony ple? [To Cyn. is a hazardous game to engage in. What Cyn. I vow, my lord, I think you are the think you of drawing stakes, and giving over happiest couple in the world; for you're not in time? only happy in one another, and when you are Mel. No, hang't, that's not endeavouring to together, but happy in yourselves, and by win, because it's possible we may lose; since yourselves. we have shuffled and cut, let's e'en turn up trump now. Lord F. I hope Mellefont will make a good husband too. Cyn. "Tis my interest to believe he will, my lord. 1) For instance, a lady's white hand is set off (embellished) by the contrast of the black keys of the pianoforte; and gentlemen generally prefer to play on an ebony flute. |