en. Then why was he graceless first? Ben. Hey-toss! what's the matter now? Why, Mrs. F. Oh! see me no more, for thou wert born ong rocks, suckled by whales, cradled in a temit, and whistled to by winds; and thou art come eth with fins and scales, and three rows of teeth, most outrageous fish of prey. Ben. Oh, lord! oh, lord! she's mad, poor young man. Love has turned her senses; her brain is ite overset. Well-a-day! how shall I do to set r to-rights ? - Mrs. F. No, no, I am not mad, monster; I am se enough to find you out. Hadst thou the imdence to aspire at being a husband, with that tbborn and disobedient temper? You, that know t how to submit to a father, presume to have sufficient stock of duty to undergo a wife? I ould have been finely fobbed indeed, very finely abed. Ben. Harkye! forsooth, if so be that you are in ur right senses, d'ye see! for aught as I perceive m like to be finely fobbed, if I have got anger re upon your account, and you are tacked about ready. What d'ye mean? after all your fair eeches and stroking my cheeks, and kissing and agging, what, would you sheer off so? would you? d leave me aground? Mrs. F. No, I'll leave you adrift, and go which ay you will. Ben. What, are you false-hearted then? Mrs. F. Only the wind's changed. Ben. More shame for you. The wind's changed? it is an ill-wind blows nobody good. Mayhap I have a good riddance on you, if these be your tricks. What, did you mean all this while to make a fool of me? Mrs. F. Any fool, but a husband. Ben. Husband! Gad! I would not be your husband, if you would have me, now I know your mind; thof you had your weight in gold and jewels, and thof I loved you never so well. raged, and talks desperately of committing matrimony himself. If he has a mind to throw himself away, he can't do it more effectually than upon me, if we could bring it about. Mrs. For. Oh! hang him, old fox! he's too cunning; besides, he hates both you and me. But I have a project in my head for you, and I have gone a good way towards it. I have almost made a bargain with Jeremy, Valentine's man, to sell his master to us. Mrs. F. Sell him? how? Mrs. For. Valentine raves upon Angelica, and took me for her; and Jeremy says will take anybody for her that he imposes on him. Now I have promised him mountains, if in one of his mad fits he will bring you to him in her stead, and get you married. Here they come; stand aside a little, aud tell me how you like the design. Enter SCANDAL and JEREMY Scand. And have you given your master a hint of their plot upon him? To JEREMY. Jer. Yes, sir; he says he'll favour it, and mis. take her for Angelica. Scand. It may make us sport. Enter VALENTINE and FORESIGHT. For. Mercy on us! Val. Hush! interrupt me not; I'll whisper prediction to thee, and thou shalt prophecy. I have told thee what's past, now I'll tell what's to come. Dost thou know what will happen to-morrow? Answer me not, for I will tell thee. To-morrow, knaves will thrive through craft, and fools through fortune; and honesty will go as it did, frost-nipt in a summer-suit. Ask me questions concerning to husband? Val. Oh! prayers will be said in empty churches, at the usual hours. Yet you will see such zealous faces behind counters, as if religion were to be sold in every shop. Oh! things will go methodically in the city. Husbands and wives will drive distinct Mrs. F. Why, canst thou love, Porpus? trades; and care and pleasure separately occupy Ben. No matter what I can do; don't call names. the family. But, hold! I must examine you before I don't love you so well as to bear that, whatever II go further; you look suspiciously. Are you a did. I'm glad you shew yourself, mistress: let them marry you as don't know you. Gad! I know you too well, by sad experience; I believe, he, that marries you, will go to sea in a hen-pecked frigate. I believe that, young woman; and mayhap may come to an anchor at Cuckold's Point; so there's a dash for you, take it as you will; mayhap you may hollow after me when I won't come to you. [Erit. Mrs. F. Ha, ha, ha! no doubt on't. [Sings.]“My true love is gone to sea!" Enter Mrs. FORESIGHT. Oh! sister, had you come a minute sooner, you would have seen the resolution of a lover. Honest Tar and I are parted; and with the same indifference that we met. On my life, I am half vexed at the insensibility of a brute I despised. For. I am married. Val. Poor creature! Is your wife of Covent Garden parish? For. No; St. Martin in the Fields. Val. Alas! poor man! his eyes are sunk, and his hands shrivelled; his legs dwindled, and his back bowed. Pray, pray for a metamorphosis. Change thy shape, and shake off age; get thee Medea's kettle, and be boiled anew; come forth, with labouring callous hands, a chine of steel and Atlas' shoulders. Let Taliacotius trim the calves of twenty chairmen, and make thee pedestals to stand erect upon, and look matrimony in the face. Ha, ha, ha! that a man should have a stomach to a wedding-supper, when the pigeons ought rather to be laid to his feet. Ha, ha, ha! For. His frenzy is very high now, Mr. Scandal. Mrs. For. What, then, he bore it most heroically? Mrs. F. Most tyrannically; for you see he has got the start of me; and I, the poor forsaken maid, For. Very likely, truly; you understand these am left complaining on the shore. But I'll tell you matters. Mr. Scandal, I shall be very glad to a aint that he has given me. Sir Sampson is en-confer with you about these things which he has Mrs. F. Oh, lord! what must I say? Val. Where is she? Oh! I see her. She comes like riches, health, and liberty, at once, to a despairing, starving, and abandoned wretch. Oh! welcome, welcome! Mrs. F. How d'ye, sir? can I serve you? Val. Harkye! I have a secret to tell you: Endymion and the moon shall meet us upon Mount Latmos, and we'll be married in the dead of night. But say not a word. Hymen shall put his torch into a dark lantern, that it may be secret; and Juno shall give her peacock poppy-water, that he may fold his ogling tail; and Argus' hundred eyes be shut, eh? Nobody shall know but Jeremy. Mrs. F. No, no; we'll keep it secret; it shall be done presently. courts Angelica: if we could cos Mrs. F. He won't know you, ce For. But he knows more than mun Tat. Look you, Mr. Foresight; it For. How? I cannot read that know your face, Mr. Tattle. Pray what der Tat. Why, d'ye think I'll tell you, it in my face! No, sir, it is written a and safer there, sir, than letters writes a lemon, for no fire can fetch it out. Ins Val. Acquaint Jeremy with it: be m bring it about. They are welcome, them so myself. To SCANDAL What a strange upon me? Then I must be pa up to them] I am honesty, and hate an Val. The sooner the better; Jeremy, come hi-ance with a new face. ther-closer, that none may overhear us. Jeremy, I can tell you news. Angelica is turned nun; and I am turned friar: and yet we'll marry one another in spite of the pope. Get me a cowl and beads, that I may play my part; for she'll meet me two hours hence in black and white, and a long veil to cover the project; and we won't see one another's faces, till we have done something to be ashamed of; and then we'll blush once for all. Jer. I'll take care and Val. Whisper. Enter ANGELICA and TATTLE. Ang. Nay, Mr. Tattle, if you make love to me, you spoil my design; for I intend to make you my confidant. Scand. How's this! Tattle making love to Angelica! Tat. But, madam, to throw away your person, such a person, and such a fortune, on a madman! Ang. I never loved him till he was mad; but don't tell anybody so. Tat. Tell, madam! alas! you don't know me. I have much ado to tell your ladyship how long I have been in love with you; but, encouraged by the impossibility of Valentine's making any more addresses to you, I have ventured to declare the very inmost passion of my heart. Oh! madam, look upon us both. There you see the ruins of a poor decayed creature! Here, a complete lively figure, with youth and health, and all his five senses in perfection, madam; and to all this, the most passionate lover. Ang. Oh! fie for shame, hold your tongue. A passionate lover, and five senses in perfection! When you are as mad as Valentine, I'll believe you love me; and the maddest shall take me. Val. It is enough. Ah! who's there? Mrs. F. Oh, lord! her coming will spoil all. [To JEREMY. Jer. No, no, madam; he won't know her; if he should, I can persuade him. Val. Scandal, who are these? Foreigners? If they are, I'll tell you what I think. Get away all the company but Angelica, that I may discover my design to her. [Whispers. Scand. I will. I have discovered something of Tattle, that is of a piece with Mrs. Frail. He [SCANDAL goes aside writ inter Val. My friend! what to do? i'm so m man, and thou canst not lie wa ar var. very poor, and thou canst not borrow mars så Then what employment have I for a frent Tat. Ha! a good open speaker, and Ang. Do you know me, Valentine? Ang. Who am I? Val. You're a woman; one to whom nature: beauty, when it grafted roses on a briar. Y the reflection of heaven in a pond; and be t leaps at you is sunk. You are all white; a aber of lovely spotless paper, when you were first burs but you are to be scrawled and blotted to goose's quill. I know you; for I loved & wom and loved her so long, that I found out a strange thing, I found out what a woman is good fr Tat. Ay, pr'ythee, what's that? Val. Why, to keep a secret. Tat. Oh, lord! Val. Oh! exceedingly good to keep a secs. though she should tell, yet she is not believes Tat. Ha! good again, faith. Jer. I'll do't, sir. Scand. Mr. Foresight, we bad best lewe un He may grow outrageous, and do misca.zf For. I will be directed by you. [EN FREJer. [To Mrs. FRAIL.] You'll meet, mais take care everything shall be ready. Mrs. F. Thou shalt do what thou wat Tat. Madam, shall I wait upon you? Tat. Pox on't! there's no coming of, has said that-Madam, will you do me the ma Mrs. For. Mr. Tattle might have used its mony. [Exeunt Mrs. FRAIL, Mrs. FORESIGE", " TATTLE. Scand. Jeremy, follow Tattle. ¡Erit Jaats g. M Scandal, I only stay till my maid es, and because I have a mind to be rid of Mr. He. and. Madam, I am very glad that I overheard tter reason which you gave to Mr. Tattle; for mpertinence forced you to acknowledge a kindfor Valentine, which you denied to all his rings and my solicitations. So, I'll leave him ake use of the discovery; and your ladyship to ree confession of your inclinations. ag. Oh! heavens, you won't leave me alone a madman? and. No, madam; I only leave a madman to emedy. [Erit. ul. Madam, you need not be very much afraid, fancy I begin to come to myself. 19. Ay, but if I don't fit you, I'll be hanged. [Aside. il. You see what disguises love makes us put Gods have been in counterfeited shapes for ame reason; and the divine part of me, my i, has worn this masque of madness, and this ey livery, only as the slave of love and menial ture of your beauty. g. Mercy on me, how he talks! Poor Valen Jer. Yes, madam; he has intervals: but you see he begins to look wild again now. Val. Why, you thick-sculled rascal, I tell you the farce is done, and I'll be mad no longer. [Beats him. Ang. Ha, ha, ha! is he mad or no, Jeremy? Jer. Partly, I think; for he does not know his own mind two hours. I'm sure I left him just now in the humour to be mad; and I think I have not found him very quiet at the present. [Knocking without.] Who's there? [Erit. Val. Go see, you sot! I'm very glad that I can move your mirth, though not your compassion. Ang. I did not think you had apprehension enough to be exceptious; but madmen shew themselves most by over-pretending to a sound understanding, as drunken men do by over-acting sobriety. I was half inclining to believe you, till I accidentally touched upon your tender part. But now you have restored me to my former opinion and compassion. Jer. Sir, your any better yet. how? Re-enter JEREMY. father has sent to know if you are Will you please to be mad, sir, or l. Nay, faith, now let us understand one anr; hypocrisy apart. The comedy draws towards nd; and let us think of leaving acting, and be Ives; and since you have loved me, you must I have at length deserved you should confess it. Jer. So; just the very reverse of truth. But iy9. [Sighs.] I would I had loved you; for hea-ing is a figure in speech, that interlards the greatest knows, I pity you; and, could I have forescen part of my conversation. Madam, your ladyship's worth must pay for the confession of my senses. Val. Stupidity! you know the penalty of all I'm I'm mad, and will be mad, to everybody but this lady. ad effects, I would have striven; but that's too l. What bad effects? what's too late? My ing madness has deceived my father, and prod me time to think of means to reconcile me to and preserve the right of my inheritance to ́estate; which, otherwise, by articles, I must morning have resigned. And this I had ined you of to-day, but you were gone before I w you had been here. ny. How! I thought your love of me had ed this transport in your soul; which, it seems, only counterfeited for mercenary ends and sor Ang. Oh! here's a reasonable creature; sure he ll not have the impudence to persevere! Come, remy, acknowledge your trick, and confess your Faster's madness counterfeit. Jer. Counterfeit, madam! I'll maintain him to be absolutely and substantially mad as any freeolder in Bedlam. Nay, he's as mad as any proctor, fanatic, chemist, lover, or poet, in Europe. Val. Sirrah! you lie; I'm not mad. Ang. Ha, ha, ha! you see he denies it. Jer. Oh, lord! madam, did you ever know any adman mad enough to own it? Val. Sot! can't you apprehend? Ang. Why, he talked very sensibly just now woman. Enter JENNY. Erit. Ang. Well, have you been there? Come hither. Jenny. Yes, madam; Sir Sampson will wait upon you presently. [Aside to ANGELICA. Val. You are not leaving me in this uncertainty ? Ang. Would anything but a madman complain of uncertainty? Úncertainty and expectation are the joys of life. Security is an insipid thing; and the overtaking and possessing of a wish, discovers the folly of the chase. Never let us know one another better; for the pleasure of a masquerade is done, when we come to shew our faces. But I'll tell you two things before I leave you; I am not the fool you take me for; and you are mad, and don't know it. [Exeunt ANGELICA and JENNY. Re-enter JEREMY. Val. From a riddle you can expect nothing but a riddle. There's my instruction, and the moral of my lesson. Jer. What, is the lady gone again, sir? I hope you understood one another before she went? Val. Understood! she is harder to be understood than a piece of Egyptian antiquity, or an Irish manuscript; you may pore till you spoil your eyes, and not improve your knowledge. Jer. I have heard them say, sir, they read hard Hebrew books backwards. May be, you begin to read at the wrong end. Val. Yet, while she does not seem to hate me, I will pursue her, and know her, if it be possible, in spite of the opinion of my satirical friend, who says, That women are like tricks by sleight of hand; Which, to admire, we should not understand. [Exeunt. 878 ACT V. SCENE I.-A Room in Foresight's House. Enter ANGELICA and JENNY, Ang. Where is Sir Sampson? Did you not tell me he would be here before me? Jenny. He's at the great glass in the diningroom, madam, setting his cravat and wig. Ang. How! I'm glad on't. If he has a mind I should like him, it's a sign he likes me; and that's more than half my design. Jenny. I hear him, madam. Ang. Leave me; and, d'ye hear? if Valentine should come, or send, I am not to be spoken with. (Erit JENNY. Enter Sir SAMpson Legend. Sir S. I have not been honoured with the commands of a fair lady a great while. Ods! madam, you have revived me-not since I was five and thirty. Ang. Why, you have no great reason to complain, Sir Sampson; that's not long ago. Sir S. Zooks! but it is, madam; a very great while to a man that admires a fine woman as much as I do. Ang. You're an absolute courtier, Sir Sampson. Sir S. Not at all, madam. Odsbud! you wrong me: I am not so old neither to be a bare courtier, only a man of words. Come, come; let me tell you, you women think a man old too soon; faith and troth, you do. Come, don't despise fifty; ods! fifty, in a hale constitution, is no such contemptible age! I Ang. Fifty a contemptible age! not at all: a very fashionable age, I think; I assure you, know very considerable beaux, that set a good face upon fifty. Fifty! I have seen fifty in a side-box, by candle-light, out-blossom five and twenty. Sir S. Outsides, outsides! a pize take them, mere outsides. Hang your side-box beaux; no, I'm none of those, none of your forced trees, that pretend to blossom in the fall, and bud when they should bring forth fruit. I am of a long-lived race, and inherit vigour. None of my ancestors married till fifty; yet they begot sons and daughters till fourscore. I am of your patriarchs; I, a branch of one of your antediluvian families, fellows that the flood could not wash away. Well, madam, what are your commands? Has any young rogue affronted you, and shall I cut his throat; or Ang. No, Sir Sampson, I have no quarrel upon my hands; I have more occasion for your conduct than your courage at this time. To tell you the truth, I'm weary of living single, and want a husband. Sir S. Madam, you deserve a good husband; and 'twere pity you should be thrown away upon any of these young idle rogues about the town. there's ne'er a young fellow worth hanging; that is, a very young fellow. Ód! Ang. Therefore, I ask your advice, Sir Sampson. I have fortune enough to make any man easy that I can like; if there were such a thing as a young agreeable man, with a reasonable stock of good nature and sense; for I would neither have an absolute wit, nor a fool. Sir S. Od! you are hard to please, madam: to find a young fellow that is neither a wit in bis own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the worst Ang. Sir Sampson, as your friend, I ma Sir S. How, madam! would I could prom 1 Ang. I can tell you how that may be it is a thing that would make me appera much concerned in your affairs. Sir S. Odsbud! I believe she likes ne If I had Peru in one hand, and Mete. 2. and the eastern empire under my fe: make me only a more glorious victim at the shrine of your beauty. Ang.. Bless me, Sir Sampson, what's Sir S. Od! madam, I love you ; and i take my advice in a husband Ang. Hold, hold! Sir Sampson. I advice for a husband, and you are giving m consent. I was, indeed, thinking të pr thing like it in jest, to satisfy y tine; for if a match were seemingly an tween you and me, it would oblige ar his disguise of madness, in apprentis me; for, you know, he has long pr for me. Sir S. Gadzooks! a most ingen. if we were to go through with iL the match only be seemingly carried on ' it be a real contract. Ang. Oh, fie! Sir Sampson, what world say? Sir S. Say! They would say you wou woman, and I a happy man love you as long as I've, and leave you jointure when I die. Ang. Ay, but that is not in your pOBBET, Sampson; for when Valentine cocienes his senses, he must make over his inberater L. younger brother. Sir S. Od! you're cunning; a wary hierFaith and troth, I like you the better. rant yon, I have a proviso in the obogat vour of myself. Body o'me! I have a trust the settlement upon the issue male ef bodies begotten. Odsbud! let us find ch I'll find an estate. Ang. Will you! Well, do you find and leave the other to me. Sir S. Oh! rogue! but I'll trust you. you consent? Is it a match, then? Ang. Let me consult my lawyer conce obligation; and if I find what you propos cable, I'll give you my answer. Sir S. With all my heart. Come m Enter TATTLE and JEREMY. Tat. Is not that she gone out just nor ' Jer. Ay, sir, she's just going to the pla pointment. Tat. Egad! thou art a pretty fellow you are secret in your nature; private Jer. Oh! sir, for that, sir, 'tis my I'm as secret as the head of Nilus. You 1. Ay! who's he, though? A privy councillor? Tat. Psha! but I tell you, you would not. Oh! ignorance! [Aside.] A cunning Egyp-forget you are a woman, and don't know your own sir, that with his arms could overrun the miud. ry, yet nobody could ever find out his head .rs. Close dog! a rare fellow amongst the ies, I warrant him. The time draws nigh, y; Angelica will be veiled like a nun, and I be hooded like a friar, eh, Jeremy? Ay, sir; hooded like a hawk, to seize at first upon the quarry. It is the whim of my masmadness to be so dressed; and she is so in with him, she'll comply with anything to please Poor lady! I'm sure she'll have reason to - for me, when she finds what a happy change as made, between a madman and so accomd a gentleman. t. Ay, faith, so she will, Jeremy: you're a friend to her, poor creature! I swear I do it y so much in consideration of myself, as comon to her. Miss P. But here's my father, and he knows my mind. Enter FORESIGHT. For. Oh! Mr. Tattle, your servant; you are a close man; but, methinks, your love to my daughter was a secret I might have been trusted with; or had you a mind to try if I could discover it by my art? Hum, ha! I think there is something in your physiognomy that has a resemblance of her; and the girl is like me. Tat. And so you would infer, that you and I are alike. What does the old prig mean? I'll banter him, and laugh at him, and leave him. [Aside.] I fancy you have a wrong notion of faces. For. How? what? a wrong notion! How so? Tat. In the way of art, I have some taking features, not obvious to vulgar eyes, that are indicative of a sudden turn of good fortune in the lot. "Tis an act of charity, sir, to save a fine wo-tery of wives; and promise a great beauty and great with sixty thousand pounds, from throwing her Away. t. So 'tis, faith! I might have saved several 's in my time; but, egad! I could never find y heart to marry anybody before. You . Well, sir, I'll go and tell her my master's it. No, no; let me alone for a counterfeit. I'll Enter Miss PRUE. fortune, reserved alone for me, by a private intrigue of destiny, kept secret from the piercing eye of perspecuity, from all astrologers, and the stars themselves. For. How? I will make it appear that what you say is impossible. Tat. Sir, I beg your pardon, I am in haste- Tat. To be married, sir-married! For. Ay, but pray take me along with you, sir. Tat. No, sir; it is to be done privately; I never make confidants. For. Well; but my consent, I mean. You won't marry my daughter without my consent? Tat. Who, I, sir? I am an absolute stranger to you and your daughter, sir. For. Heyday! What time of the moon is this? Tat. Very true, sir; and desire to continue so. at. Oh plague; how shall I get rid of this I have no more love for your daughter, than I have sh girl? [Aside. likeness of you: and I have a secret in my heart, fiss P. Oh! I have pure news, I can tell you which you would be glad to know, and sha'n't know; e news; I must not marry the seaman now, my and yet you shall know it, too, and be sorry for it er says so. Why won't you be my husband? afterwards. I'd have you know, sir, that I am as say you love me, and you won't be my hus-knowing as the stars, and as secret as the night. ad; and I know you may be my husband now, if please. Fat. Oh! fie, miss! Who told you so, child? ed me. Tat. Oh! fie, miss! Why did you do so? and Miss P. Who! why you did, did not you? eam of the matter. Miss P. Psha! Oh! but I dreamt that it was so, Tough. Tat. Ay, but your father will tell you, that dreams Tat. No, no, child; you would not have me. And I'm going to be married just now, yet did not know of it half an hour ago, and the lady stays for me, and does not know of it yet. There's a mystery for you! I know you love to untie difficulties. Or, if you can't solve this, stay here a quarter of an hour, and I'll come and explain it to you. [Exit. Miss P. Oh! father, why will you let him go? Won't you make him to be my husband? For. Mercy on us! what do these lunacies portend? Alas! he's mad, child, stark wild! Miss P. What, and must not I have e'er a husband, then? What, must I go to bed to nurse again, and be a child as long as she's an old woman? Indeed, but I won't. For, now my mind is set upon a man, I will have a man some way or other. For. Oh! fearful! I think the girl's influenced, too. Hussy! you shall have a rod. Miss P. A fiddle of a rod! I'll have a husband; and if you won't get me one, I'll get one for myself. I'll marry our Robin, the butler; he says he loves me: and he's a handsome man, and shall be my husband: I warrant he'll be my husband, and thank me, too; for he told me so. Enter Nurse. For. Did he so? I'll despatch him for it pe sently! Rogue! Oh! Nurse, come hither. |