Enter VELLUM and SIR GEORGE, in his conjurer's habit. Vel. I will introduce this profound person to your ladyship, and then leave him with youSir, this is her ho—nour. Sir Geo. I know it well. [Exit VEL. [Aside, walking in a musing posture.] That dear woman! the sight of her unmans me. I could weep for tenderness, did not I, at the same time, feel an indignation rise in me to see that wretch with her. And yet, I cannot but smile to see her in the company of her first and second husband at the same time. Lady True. Mr Tinsel, do you speak to him; you are used to the company of men of learning. Tin. Old gentleman, thou dost not look like an inhabitant of this world; I suppose thou art lately come down from the stars. Pray, what news is stirring in the Zodiac? Sir Geo. News that ought to make the heart of a coward tremble. Mars is now entering into the first house, and will shortly appear in all his domal dignities Tin. Mars!-Prithee, father Grey-beard, explain thyself. Sir Geo. The entrance of Mars into his house, portends the entrance of a master into this family-and that soon. Tin. D'ye hear that, widow? The stars have cut me out for thy husband. This house is to have a master, and that soon. Hark thee, old Gadbury? Is not Mars very like a young fellow called Tom Tinsel ? Sir Geo. Not so much as Venus is like this lady. Tin. A word in your ear, doctor; these two planets will be in conjunction by and by; I can tell you that. Sir Geo. [Aside, walking disturbed.] Curse on this impertinent fop! I shall scarce forbear discovering myself- -Madam, I am told that your house is visited with strange noises. Lady True. And I am told that you can quiet them. I must confess, I had a curiosity to see the person I had heard so much of; and indeed your aspect shows, that you have had much experience in the world. You must be a very aged man. Sir Geo. My aspect deceives you: what do you think is my real age? Tin. I should guess thee within three years of Methusalah. Prithee, tell me, wast, thou not born before the flood? Lady True. Truly, I should guess you to be in your second or third century. Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ha! If there be truth in man, I was but five-and-thirty last August. Oh, the study of the occult sciences makes a man's beard grow faster than you would imagine! Lady True. What an escape you have had, Mr Tinsel, that you were not bred a scholar! Tin. And so I fancy, doctor, thou thinkest me an illiterate fellow, because I have a smooth chin? Sir Geo. Hark ye, sir; a word in your ear. You are a coxcomb, by all the rules of physiognomy: but let that be a secret between you and me. [Aside to TIN. Lady True. Pray, Mr Tinsel, what is it the doctor whispers ? Tin. Only a compliment, child, upon two or three of my features. It does not become me to repeat it. Lady True. Pray, doctor, examine this gentleman's face, and tell me his fortune. Sir Geo. If I may believe the lines of his face, he likes it better than I do, or-than you do, fair lady. Tin. Widow, I hope now thou'rt convinced he's a cheat. soon. Tin. Prithee, doctor, tell us the truth. Dost not thou live in Moorfields? Sir Geo. Take my word for it, thou shalt never live in my lady Trueman's mansion-house. Tin. Pray, old gentleman, hast thou never been plucked by the beard when thou wert saucy? Lady True. Nay, Mr Tinsel, you are angry: do you think I would marry a man that dares not have his fortune told? Sir Geo. Let him be angry-I matter notHe is but short-lived. He will soon die of Tin. Come, come, speak out, old Hocus; he, he, he! This fellow makes me burst with laughing. [Forces a laugh. Sir Geo. He will soon die of a fright—or of the-let me see your nose- -Ay-'tis so! Tin. You son of a whore! I'll run ye through the body. I never yet made the sun shine through a conjurer. Lady True. Oh, fy, Mr Tinsel! you will not kill an old man ? Tin. An old man! The dog says he's but fiveand thirty. Lady True. Oh, fy, Mr Tinsel! I did no think you could have been so passionate! I hate a passionate man. Put up your sword, or I must never see you again. Tin. Ha, ha, ha! I was but in jest, my dear, I had a mind to have made an experiment upon the doctor's body. I would but have drilled a little eyelet hole in it, and have seen whether he had art enough to close it up again. Sir Geo. Courage is but ill shown before a lady. But know, if ever I meet thee again, thou shalt find this arm can wield other weapons besides this wand. |just by-[Brings in a rummer.] I'll pledge you; my lady's good health. Tin. Ha, ha, ha! Lady True. Well, learned sir, you are to give a proof of your art, not of your courage. Or, if Vel. And your own with it-sweet Mrs Abigail. you will shew your courage, let it be at nine Abi. Pray, good Mr Vellum, buy me a little o'clock--for that is the time the noise is general-parcel of this sack, and put it under the article ly heard. of tea- -I would not have my name appear to it. Tin. And look ye, old gentleman, if thou dost not do thy business well, I can tell thee, by the little skill I have, that thou wilt be tossed in a blanket before ten. We'll do our endeavour to send thee back to the stars again. Sir Geo. I'll go and prepare myself for the ceremonies And, lady, as you expect they should succeed to your wishes, treat that fellow with the contempt he deserves. [Erit SIR GEORGE. Tin. The sauciest dog I ever talked with in my whole life! Lady True. Methinks he's a diverting fellow; one may see he's no fool. Tin. No fool! Ay, but thou dost not take him for a conjurer? Lady True. Truly, I don't know what to take him for; I am resolved to employ him however. When a sickness is desperate, we often try remedies that we have no great faith in. Enter ABIGAIL. Abi. Madam, the tea is ready in the parlour, as you ordered. Lady True. Come, Mr Tinsel, we may there talk of the subject more at leisure. Vel. Mrs Abigail, your name seldom appears in my bills-and yet if you will allow me a merry expression-you have been always in my books, Mrs Abigail. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Ha, ha, ha! Mr Vellum, you are such a dry jesting man! Vel. Why, truly, Mrs Abigail, I have been looking over my papers-and I find you have been a long time my debtor. Abi. Your debtor! For what, Mr Vellum? Vel. For my heart, Mrs Abigail—And our accounts will not be balanced between us, till I have yours in exchange for it. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Ila, ha, ha! You are the most gallant dun, Mr Vellum! Vel. But I am not used to be paid by words only, Mrs Abigail; when will you be out of my debt? Abi. Oh, Mr Vellum, you make one blushMy humble service to you. Vel. I must answer you, Mrs Abigail, in the country phrase.-Your love is sufficient. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Ha, ha, ha! Well, I must own I love a merry man! Vel. Let me see! how long is it, Mrs Abigail, since I first broke my mind to you?--It was, I think, undecimo Gulielmi- -We have conversed together these fifteen years-and yet, Mrs Abigail, I must drink to our better acquaintance. He, he, he!—Mrs Abigail, you know I am naturally jocose. [Exeunt LADY TRUE. and TIN. Abi. Sure never any lady had such servants as mine has! Well, If I get this thousand pounds, I hope to have some of my own. Let me see, I'll have a pretty tight girl-just such as I was ten years ago (I'm afraid I may say twenty); she shall dress me and flatter me--for I will Abi. Ah! you men love to make sport with be flattered, that's pos! My lady's cast suitsus silly creatures. will serve her after I have given them the Vel. Mrs Abigail, I have a trifle about me, wearing. Besides, when I am worth a thous-which I would willingly make you a present of and pounds, I shall certainly carry off the stew-It is indeed but a little toy. ardMadam Vellum-how prettily that will sound! Here, bring out Madam Vellum's chaise-Nay, I do not know but it may be a chariot-It will break the attorney's wife's heart -for I shall take place of every body in the parish but my lady. If I have a son, he shall be called Fantome. But see, Mr Vellum, as I could wish. I know his humour, and will do my utmost to gain his heart. Enter VELLUM, with a pint of sack. Vel. Mrs Abigail, don't I break in upon you unseasonably? Abi. Oh, no, Mr Vellum; your visits are ways seasonable. al Abi. You are always exceedingly obliging. Vel. It is but a little toy-scarce worth your acceptance. Abi. Pray, don't keep me in suspense; what is it, Mr Vellum? Vel. A silver thimble. Abi. I always said Mr Vellum was a generous lover. Vel. But I must put it on myself, Mrs Abigail -You have the prettiest tip of a finger-I must take the freedom to salute it. Abi. Oh, fy! you make me ashamed, Mr Vellumn; how can you do so? I protest I am in such a confusionA feigned struggle. l'el. This finger is not the finger of idleness; Vel. I have brought with me a taste of fresh it bears the honourable scars of the needle.canary, which, I think, is delicious. But why are you so cruel as not to pair your Abi. Pray set it down-I have a dram-glass nails? Abi. Oh, I vow, you press it so hard! pray, give me my finger again. Vel. This middle finger, Mrs Abigail, has a pretty neighbour-a wedding ring would become it mightily-He, he, he! Abi. You're so full of your jokes. Ay; but where must I find one for it? Vel. I design this thimble only as the forerunner of it; they will set off each other, and areindeed, a twofold emblem. The first will put you in mind of being a good housewife, and the other, of being a good wife. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Yes, yes; I see you laugh at me. Abi. I thought you had quite forsaken me-I am sure you cannot forget the many repeated vows and promises you formerly made me. Vel. I should as soon forget the multiplication table. Abi. I have always taken your part before my lady. Vel. You have so; and I have itemed it in my memory. Abi. For I have always looked upon your interest as my own. Vel. It is nothing but your cruelty can hinder them from being so. Abi. I must strike while the iron's hot. [Aside.] -Well, Mr Vellum, there is no refusing you; you have such a bewitching tongue! Vel. How? speak that again! Abi. Why, then, in plain English, I love you. Vel. I am overjoyed! Abi. I must own my passion for you. SCENE I. Enter VELLUM and Butler. Vel. I'm transported! [Catching her in his arms. Abi, Dear, charming man! Vel. Thou sum total of all my happiness! I shall grow extravagant! I can't forbear!—to drink thy virtuous inclinations in a bumper of sack. Your lady must make haste, my duck, or we shall provide a young steward to the estate, before she has an heir to it.-Pr'ythec, my dear, does she intend to marry Mr Tinsel ? Abi. Marry him, my love! No, no; we must take care of that! there would be no staying in the house for us, if she did. That young rakehell would send all the old servants a-grazing. You and I should be discarded before the honeymoon was at an end. Vel. Pr'ythee, sweet one, does not this drum put the thoughts of marriage out of her head? Abi. This drum, my dear, if it be well managed, will be no less than a thousand pounds in our way. Vel. Ay, say'st thou so, my turtle? Abi. Since we are now as good as man and wife-I mean, almost as good as man and wife -I ought to conceal nothing from you. Vel. Certainly, my dove; not from thy yokefellow, thy help-mate, thy own flesh and blood! Abi. Hush! I hear Mr Tinsel's laugh; my lady and he are coming this way; if you will take a turn without, I'll tell you the whole contri vance. Vel. Give me your hand, chicken. Abi. Here, take it; you have my heart already. Vel. We shall have much issue. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Vel. John, I have certain orders to give youand therefore be attentive. But. Attentive! Ay, let me alone for thatI suppose he means, being sober. [Aside. Vel. You know I have always recommended to you a method in your business; I would have your knives and forks, your spoons and napkins, your plate and glasses, laid in a method. But. Ay, master Vellum! you are such a sweet-spoken mau, it does one's heart good to receive your orders. Vel. Method, John, makes business easy; it banishes all perplexity and confusion out of families. But. How he talks! I could hear him all day. Vel. And now, John, let me know whether your table-linen, your side-board, your cellar, and every thing else within your province, are properly and methodically disposed for an entertainment this evening? But. Master Vellum, they shall be ready at a Vel. It is, John, for the conjurer; and yet it is not for the conjurer. But. Why, look you, master Vellum, if it is for the conjurer, the cook-maid should have orders to get him some dishes to his palate. Perhaps he may like a little brimstone in his sauce. Vel. This conjurer, John, is a complicated creature, an amphibious animal, a person of a twofold nature-But he eats and drinks like other men. But. Marry, master Vellum, he should eat and drink as much as two other men, by the account you give of him. Vel. Thy conceit is not amiss; he is indeed a double man; ha, ha, ha! But. Ha! I understand you; he's one of your hermaphrodites, as they call them. Vel. He is married, and he is not marriedHe hath a beard, and he hath no beard. He is old, and he is young. But. How charmingly he talks! I fancy, master Vellum, you could make a riddle. The same man old and young! How do you make that out, master Vellum? Vel. Thou hast heard of a snake casting his skin, and recovering his youth? Such is this sage person. But. Nay, 'tis no wonder a conjurer should be like a serpent. Vel. When he has thrown aside the old conjurer's slough, that hangs about him, he'll come out as fine a young gentleman as ever was seen in this house. But. Does he intend to sup in his slough? But. Well, I have not a head for these things. Indeed, Mr Vellum, I have not understood one word you have said this half hour. Vel. I did not intend thou shouldst—But to our business-Let there be a table spread in the great hall. Let your pots and glasses be washed, and in a readiness. Bid the cook provide a plentiful supper; and see that all the servants are in their best liveries. But. Ay, now I understand every word you say. But I would rather hear you talk a little in that t'other way. Vel. I shall explain to thee what I have said, by and by-Bid Susan lay two pillows upon your lady's bed. But. Two pillows! Madam won't sleep upon them both! She is not a double woman, too? Vel. Adieu; and let me hear the result of your conference. [As he is going off. Abi. How can you leave one so soon? I shall think it an age till I see you again. Vel. Adieu, my pretty one! Abi. Adieu, sweet Mr Vellum! Vel. My pretty oneAbi. Dear Mr Vellum! Vel. My pretty one! [Erit. Abi. I have him--If I can but get this thousand pounds. [FANTOME gives three raps upon his drum behind the wainscot.] Abi. Three raps upon the drum? the signal Mr Fantome and I agreed upon, when he had a mind to speak with me. [FANTOME raps again.] Very well, I hear you: come, fox, come out of your hole. SCENE II. Opens, and FANTOME comes out. Abi. You may leave your drum in the wardrobe, till you have occasion for it. Fan. Well, Mrs Abigail, I want to hear what's doing in the world. Abi. You are a very inquisitive spirit. But I must tell you, if you do not take care of yourself, you will be laid this evening. Fan. I have overheard something of that matVel. She will sleep upon neither. But hark! ter. But let me alone for the doctor-I'll enMrs Abigail; I think I hear her chiding the cook-gage to give a good account of him. I am more maid. in pain about Tinsel. When a lady's in the case, I'm more afraid of one fop than twenty conju But. Then I'll away, or it will be my turn next she, I am sure, speaks plain English; one may easily understand every word she says. [Exit Butler. Vel. Servants are good for nothing, unless they have an opinion of the person's understanding who has the direction of them.-But see, Mrs Abigail! she has a bewitching countenance; I wish I may not be tempted to marry her in good earnest. Enter ABIGAIL. Abi. Ha! Mr Vellum. Vel. What brings my sweet one hither? Abi. I am coming to speak to my friend behind the wainscot. It is fit, child, he should have an account of this conjurer, that he may not be surprised. Vel. That would be as much as thy thousand pounds is worth. Abi. I'll speak low- -Walls have ears. [Pointing at the wainscot. Vel. But hark you, duckling! be sure you do not tell him that I am let into the secret. Abi. That's a good one, indeed! as if I should ever tell what passes between you and me. Vel. No, no, my child; that must not be; he, he, he! that must not be; he, he, he! Abi. You will always be waggish. rers. Abi. To tell you truly, he presses his attacks with so much impudence, that he has made more progress with my lady in two days, than you did in two months. Fan. I shall attack her in another manner, if thou canst but procure me another interview. There's nothing makes a lover so keen, as being kept in the dark. Abi. Pray, no more of your distant bows, your respectful compliments -Really, Mr Fantome, you're only fit to make love across a teatable. Fan. My dear girl, I can't forbear hugging thee for thy good advice. Abi. Ay, now I have some hopes of you; but, why don't you do so to my lady? Fan. Child, I always thought your lady loved to be treated with respect. Abi. Believe me, Mr Fantome, there is not so great a difference between woman and woman, as you imagine. You see Tinsel has nothing but his sauciness to recommend him. Fan. Tinsel is too great a coxcomb to be capable of love-And let me tell thee, Abigail, a man, who is sincere in his passion, makes but a very awkward profession of it-But I'll end my manners. Abi. Ay, or you'll never gain a widowCome, I must tutor you a little; suppose me to be my lady; and let me see how you'll behave yourself? Fan. I'm afraid, child, we han't time for such a piece of mummery. Abi. Oh, it will be quickly over, if you play your part well. Fan. Why then, dear Mrs Ab-I mean, my lady Trueman. Abi. Ay; but you han't saluted me. Fun. That's right; faith, I forgot that circumstance. [Kisses her.] Nectar and ambrosia! Abi. That's very well Fan. How long must I be condemned to languish when shall my sufferings have an end? My life, my happiness, my all, is wound up in you Abi. Well! why don't you squeeze my hand? Fan. What! thus? Abi. Thus! Ay-now throw your arm about my middle: hug me closer.-You are not afraid of hurting me! Now, pour forth a volley of rapture and nonsense, till you are out of breath. Fan. Transport and ecstacy! where am I?— my life, my bliss!—I rage, I burn, I bleed, I die! Abi. Go on, go on. Fan. Flames and darts!Bear me to the gloomy shade, rocks and grottos!-Flowers, zephyrs, and purling streams! Abi. Oh, Mr Fantome, you have a tongue would undo a vestal! You were born for the ruin of our sex. Fan. This will do, then, Abigail? Abi. Ay; this is talking like a lover: though I only represent my lady, I take pleasure in hear ing you. Well, o' my conscience, when a man of sense has a little dash of the coxcomb in him, no woman can resist him. Go on at this rate, and the thousand pounds is as good as in my pocket. Fan. I shall think it an age, till I have an opportunity of putting this lesson in practice. Abi. You may do it soon, if you make good use of your time. Mr Tinsel will be here with my lady at eight, and at nine the conjurer is to take you in hand. Fan. Let me alone with both of them. Abi. Well! forewarned, fore-armed. Get into your box, and I'll endeavour to dispose every thing in your favour. [FANTOME goes in. Exit ABIGAIL. Enter VELLUM. Vel. Mrs Abigail is withdrawn—I was in hopes to have heard what passed between her and her invisible correspondent. Enter TINSEL. Tin. Vellum! Vellum! Vel. [Aside.] Vellum! We are, methinks, very familiar! I am not used to be called so by any 3 it? Vel. Why, have you thoughts of purchasing of Tin. Thou hast hit it, old boy; that is my very intention. Vel. The purchase will be considerable. Tin. And for that reason I have bid thy lady very high-She is to have no less for it than this entire person of mine. Vel. Is your whole estate personal, Mr Tinsel -he, he, he! Tin. Why, you queer old dog, you don't pretend to jest, d'ye? Look ye, Vellum, if you think of being continued my steward, you must learn to walk with your toes out. Vel. [Aside.] An insolent companion! Tin. Thou'rt confounded rich, I see, by that dangling of thy arms. Vel. [Aside.] An ungracious bird! Tin. Thou shalt lend me a couple of thousand pounds. Vel. [Aside.] A very profligate! Tin. Look ye, Vellum, I intend to be kind to you-I'll borrow some money of you. Vel. I cannot but smile to consider the disappointment this young fellow will meet with; I will make myself merry with him. [Aside.]—And so, Mr Tinsel, you promise you will be a very kind master to me? [Stifling a laugh. Tin. What will you give for a life in the house you live in? Vel. What do you think of five hundred pounds? -Ha, ha, ha! Tin. That's too little. Vel. And yet it is more than I shall give you Vel. First, because the tenement is not in your disposal; and, secondly, because it never will be in your disposal: and so fare thee well, good Mr Tinsel-Ha, ha, ha! You will pardon me for being jocular. [Exit VELLUM. Tin. This rogue is as saucy as the conjurer: I'll be hanged if they are not a-kin! Enter LADY TRUEMAN. Lady True. Mr Tinsel! what, all alone? You free-thinkers are great admirers of solitude. Tin. No, faith; I have been talking with thy steward; a very grotesque figure of a fellow; the very picture of one of our benchers. How can you bear his conversation? |