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Jer. O lord! I have heard much of hiin, when
I waited upon a gentleman at Cambridge. Pray, VALENTINE in his chamber 'reading ; JEREMY what was that Epictetus ? waiting.-Several books upon the table.
Val. A very rich man—not worth a groat! Val, JEREMY!
Jer. Humph! and so he has made a very fine Jer. Sir.
feast, where there is nothing to be eaten! Val. Here, take away; I'll walk a turn, and Val. Yes. digest what I have read.
Jer. Sir, you're a gentleman, and probably unJer. You'll grow devilish fat upon this paper derstand this fine feeding; but, if you please, I diet!
had rather be at board-wages. Does your Epic[Aside, and taking away the books. tetus, or your Seneca here, or any of these poor Val. And d'ye hear? go you to breaķfast- rich rogues, teach you how to pay your debtsThere's a page doubled down in Epictetus, that without money? Will they shut up ihe mouths is a feast for an emperor.
of your creditors? Will Plato be bail for you? Jer. Was Epictetus a real cook, or did he only or Diogenes, because he understands confinewrite receipts?
ment, and lived in a tub, go to prison for you? Val. Read, read, sirrah, and refine your appe- 'Slite, sir, what do you mean, to mew yourself up tite; learn to live upon instruction; feast your here with three or four musty books, in commenmind, and mortify your flesh. Read, and take dation of starving and poverty? your nourishment in at your eyes; shut up your Val. Why, sirrah, I have no money, you know mouth, and chew the cud of understanding. So it; and therefore resolve to rail at all that have : Epictetus advises.
and in that I but follow the examples of the wi
sest and wittiest men in all ages—these poets and tery! Nothing thrives that belongs to it. The philosophers, whom you naturally hate, for just man of the house would have been an alderman such another reason; because they abound' in by this time, with half the trade, if he had set up sense, and you are a fooi.
in the city. For my part, I never sit at the door, Jer. Ay, sir, I am a fool, I know it; and yet, that I don't get double the stomach that I do at Heaven help me! I'm poor enough to be a wit. a horse-race. The air. upon Banstead Downs iş But I was always a fool, when I told you what nothing to it for a whetter; yet I never see it, your expences would bring you to; your coaches but the spirit of famine appears to me—someand your liveries; your treats and your balls ; times like a decayed porter, worn out with pimpyour being in love with a lady that did not care ing, and carrying billet-doux and songs; not like a farthing for you in your prosperity; and keep other porters for hire, but for the jest's sake, ing company with wits, that cared for nothing Now, like a thin chairman, melted down to half but your prosperity, and now, when you are poor, his proportion, with carrying a poet upon tick, to hate you as much as they do one another. visit some great fortune; and his fare to be paid
Val. Well! and now I am poor, I have an op- him, like the wages of sin, either at the day of portunity to be revenged on them all; I'll pursue marriage, or the day of death. Angelica with more love than ever, and appear more notoriously her admirer in this restraint,
Enter SCANDAL. than when I openly rivalled the rich fops, that made court to her. So shall my poverty be a Scand. What! Jeremy holding forth? nortification to her pride, and perhaps make her Val. The rogue has (with all the wit he could compassionate the love, which has principally re- muster up) been declaiming against wit. duced me to this lowness ot' fortune. And for Scand. Ay? Why, then, I'm afraid Jeremy has the wits, I'm sure I am in a condition to be even wit: for wherever it is, it's always contriving its with them.
own ruin. Jer. Nay, your condition is pretty even with Jer. Why, so I have been telling my master, theirs, that's the truth on't.
sir. Mr Scandal, for Heaven's sake, sir, try if Val. I'll take some of their trade out of their you can dissuade him from turning poet. hands.
Scand. Poet! He shall turn soldier first, and Jer. Now, Heaven of mercy continue the tax rather depend upon the outside of his head, than upon paper !-You don't mean to write? the lining! Why, what the devil! has not your Val. Yes, I do; I'll write a play.
poverty made you enenies enough? must you Jer. Hem !-Sir, if you please to give me a needs shew your wit to get more? small certificate of three lines—only to certify Jer. Ay, more indeed: for who cares for
any those whom it may concern, that the bearer body that has more wit than himself? hereof, Jeremy Fetch by name, has, for the space Scand. Jeremy speaks like an oracle. Don't of seven years, truly and faithfully served Valen- you see how worthless great men and dull rich tine Legend, esquire ; and that he is not now turn-rogues avoid a witty man of small fortune? Why, ed away for any misdemeanour, but does volun- he looks like a writ of inquiry into their titles and tarily disiniss his master from any future autho-estates; and seems commissioned by Heaven to rity over him
seize the better half. Val. No, sirrah; you shall live with me still. Val. Therefore, I would rail in my writings,
Jer. Sir, it's impossibleI may die with you, and be revenged. starve with you, or be damned with your works: Scand. Rail! at whom? the whole world ? Imbut to live, even three days, the life of a play, I potent and vain! Who would die a martyr to no more expect it, than to be canonized for a sense, in a country where the religion is follv? muse after my decease.
stand at bay for a wbile; but, when the Vul. You are witty, you rogue, I shall want full cry is against you, you shan't have fair play your help—I'll have you learn to make couplets, for your life. If you can't be fairly run down by to tag the end of acts. D’ye hear? get the maids the hounds, you will be treacherously shot by the to crambo in an evening, and learn the knack of huntsmen. No; turn pimp, flatterer, quack, lawrhyming; you may arrive at the height of a song yer; any thing but poet. A modern poet is worse, sent by an unknown hand, or a chocolate-house more servile, timorous, and fawning, than any lampoon.
I have named: without you could retrieve the Jer. But, sir, is this the way to recover your ancient honours of the name, recal the stage of father's favour? Why, sir Sampson will be irre-Athens, and be allowed the force of open honest concileable. If your younger brother should satire. come from sea, he'd never look upon you again. Val. You are as inveterate against our pocts, You're undone, sir; you're ruined; you won't have as if your character had been lately exposed upon a friend left in the world, if you turn poet. Ah, the stage. Nay, I am not violently bent upon pox confound that Will's coffee-house ! it has the trade.-[One knocks. Jeremy, see who's ruined more young men than the Royal Oak lot- there. (JEREMY goes to the door.]=But tell me
what you would nave me do?-What do the Scand. What, is it bouncing Margery, with my world say of me, and my forced confinement? godson?
Scand. The world behaves itself, as it uses to Jer. Yes, sir. do on such occasions. Some pity you, and con- Scand. My blessing to the boy, with this token demn your father: others excuse him, and blame (gives money.) of my love. you. Only the ladies are merciful, and wish you Val. Bid Trapland come in. If I can give that weil: since love and pleasurable expence have Cerberus a sop, I shall be at rest for one day. been your greatest faults.
(JEREMY goes out, and brings in TRAPLAND.
O`Mr Trapland ! my old friend! welcome. JEREMY returns.
Jeremy, a chair, quickly: a bottle of sack, and a Val. How now?
toast- -Ay-a chair first. Jer. Nothing new, sir. I have dispatched some Trap. A good morning to you, Mr Valentine; hali a dozen duns with as much dexterity as an and to you, Mr Scandal. hungry judge does causes at dinner time.
Scand. The morning's a very good morning, if Vul. What answer have you given them? you don't spoil it. Scand. Patience, I suppose the old receipt ! Val. Come, sit you down; you know his way.
Jer No, faith, sir : I have put them off so long Trap. (sits.] There is a debt, Mr Valentine, with patience and forbearance, and other fair of fifteen hundred pounds, of pretty long standwords, that I was forced to tell them in plainingdownright English
Val. I cannot talk about business with a thirsty Val, What?
palate. Sirrah! the sack! Jer. That they should be paid.
Trap. And I desire to know what course you l'al. When?
have taken for the payment. Jer. To-morrow
Val. Faith, and troth, I am heartily glad to see Val And how the devil do you mean to keep you—my service to you! fill, fill, to honest Mr
Trapland-fuller. Jer. Keep it? Not at all: it has been so very Trap. Hold! sweetheart—this is not to our mub stretched, that I reckon it will break of business. My service to you, Mr Scandal ! course by to-morrow, and nobody be surprised at [drinks.)- I have forborn as longthe matter !-(knocking.)--Ayain! Sir, if you Val. I'other glass, and then we'll talk- Fill, don't like my negociation, will you be pleased to Jeremy. anser rhese yourself?
Trap. No more, in truth–I have forborn, I Val. See who they are. [Erit Jeremy.] By say— this, Scandal, you may see what it is to be great. Val. Sirrah ! fill! when I bid you. And how Secretaries of state, presidents of the council, does your handsome daughter? -Come, a good and generals of an army, lead just such a lite as husband to her.
[drinks. I do: have just such crowds of visitants in a Trap. Thank you--I have been out of this morning, all soliciting of past promises; which are money but a civiller sort of duns, that lay claim to volun- Vai. Drink first. Scandal, why do you not tary debts.
[They drink. Scani. And you, like a truly great man, ha- Trap. And, in short, I can be put off no longving engaged their attendance, and promised more than ever you intended to perform, are more Val. I was much obliged to you for your supperplexed to .cd evasions, than you would be to ply: it did me signal service in my necessity. invent the honest means of keeping your word, But you delight in doing good. Scandal
, drink and gratiiying your creditors.
to me, my friend Trapland's health. An honester Vui. Scandal, learn to spare your friends, and man lives not, nor one more ready to serve his do not provoke your enemies. This liberty of friend in distress, though I say it to his face. your tongue will one day bring confinement on Come, fill each man his glass. your body, my friend.
Scund. What? I know Trapland has been a
whoremaster, and loves a wench still. You never Enter JEREMY.
knew a whoremaster, that was not an honest fel
low. Jer. O, sir, there's l'rapland the scrivener, with Trap. Fie, Mr Scandal, you never knew ! two suspicious fellows, like lawful pads, that Scand. What don't I know I know the would knock a man down with pocket tipstaves! buxom black widow in the Poultry-Eight hun
-And there's your father's steward; and the dred pounds a-year jointure, and twenty thounurse, with one of your children, from Twitten- sand pounds in money. Ahah! old Trap. hanı.
Val. Say you so, itaith? Come, we'll rememVal. Pox on her! could she find no other time ber the widow: I know whereabouts you are ; to thing iny sins in my fare? Here! give her this, come, to the widow. [gives money,) and bid her trouble me no inore. Trap. No more, indeed.
Val. What! the widow's health? Give it him Val. But I have got a reprieve. -off with it. (They drink.- A lovely girl, i? Scand, I am surprised; what, does your fafaith! black sparkling eyes, soft pouting ruby lips! ther relent? Better sealing there, than a bond for a million, ha ! Val. No; he has sent me the hardest con
Trap. No, no, there's no such thing; we'd bet. ditions in the world. You have heard of a ter mind our business-You're a wag!
booby brother of mine, that was sent to sea Val. No, faith, we'll mind the widow's busi- three years ago ? This brother, my father hears, ness: fill again. Pretty round heaving breasts, is landed ; whereupon he very affectionately a Barbary shape, would stir an anchorite; and the sends me word, “If I will make a deed of conprettiest foot! Oh, if a man could but fasten his veyance of my right to his estate after his eyes to her feet, as they steal in and out, and play death to my younger brother, he will imat bo-peep under her petticoats—ha! Mr Trap-mediately furnish me with four thousand land!
pounds to pay my debts, and make my Trap. Verily, give me a glass-you're a wag- fortune. This was once proposed before, and and here's to the widow.
[Drinks. I refused it; but the present impatience of Scand. He begins to chuckle-ply him close, my creditors for their money, and my own imor he'll relapse into a dun.
patience of confinement, and absence from Ange
lica, force me to consent. Enter Officer.
Scand. A very desperate demonstration of Offi. By your leave, gentlemen.—Mr Trap- your love to Angelica ! and I think she has never land, if we must do our office, tell us.-We given you any assurance of hers. have half a dozen gentlemen to arrest in Pall- Val. You know her temper; she never gave mall and Covent-garden; and if we don't make me any great reason either for hope or despair. haste, the chairmen will be abroad, and block Scand. Women of her airy temper, as they up the chocolate-houses; and then our labour's seldom think before they act, so they rarely give lost.
us any light to guess at what they mean : but Trap. Odso, that's true. Mr Valentine, I love you have little reason to believe that a woman mirth; but business must be done; are you ready of this age, who has had an indifference for you
in your prosperity, will fall in love with your ill Jer. Sir, your father's steward says, he comes toriune. Besides, Angelica has a great forto make proposals concerning your debts. tune of her own; and great fortunes either expect
Val, Bid him come in: Mr. Trapland, send another great fortune, or a fool. away your officer; you shall have an answer
Enter JEREMY. presently. Trap. Mr Snap, stay within call. [Erit Officer. Jer. More misfortunes, sir,
Val. What, another dun? Enter Steward, who whispers VALENTINE.
Jer. No, sir; but Mr Tattle is come to wait Scand. Here's a dog now, a traitor in his upon you. wine ! Sirrah, refund the sack : Jeremy, fetch Val. Well, I cannot help it you must him some warm water, or I'll rip up his bring him up; he knows I don't go abroad. stomach, and go the shortest way to his con
[Erit JEREMY. science.
Scand. Pox on hiin ! I'll be gone. Trap. Mr Scandal, you are uncivil. I did Val. No, prithee stay: Tattle and you should not value your sack; but you cannot expect it never be asunder ; you are light and shadow, again, when I have drunk it.
and shew one another. He is perfectly thy reScand. And how do you expect to have your verse, both in humour and understanding; and, money again, when a gentleman has spent it? as you set up for defamation, he is a mender of
Val. You need say no more. I understand reputations. the conditions ; they are very hard, but my Scand. A mender of reputations ! ay, just as necessity is very pressing : I agree to them. he is a keeper of secrets, another virtue that he Take Mr Trapland with you, and let him draw sets up for in the same manner.
For the rogue the writing.-Mr Trapland, you know this man; will speak aloud in the posture of a whisper; he shall satisfy you.
and deny a woman's name, while he gives you Trap. Sincerely, I am loth to be thus pres- the marks of her person. He will forswear resing; but my necessity
ceiving a letter from her, and at the same time Val. No apology, good Mr Scrivener; you shew you her hand in the superscription : and shall be paid.
yet, perhaps, he has counterfeited her hand too, Trap. I hope you forgive me; my business and sworn to a truth; but he hopes not to be requires
believed; and refuses the reputation of a lady's [Ereunt TRAPLAND, Steward and JEREMY. favour, as a doctor says no to a bishoprick, only Scand. He begs pardon like a hangman at an that it may be granted him.--In short, he is a execution,
public professor of secrecy, and makes pro
clamation that he holds private intelligence. He | innocence; for I told her-Madam, says I, there is here.
are some persons who make it their business to
tell stories, and say this and that of one and the Enter TATTLE.
other, and every thing in the world; and, says I, Tatt. Valentine, good morrow: Scandal, I if your graceam yours-that is, when you speak well of Scand. Grace !
Tatt. O lord, what have I said ? My unlucky Scand. That is, when I am yours? for while
tongue ! I am my own, or any body's else, that will never Val. Ha, ha, ha! happen.
Scand. Why, Tattle, thou hast more impuTatt, How inhuman !
dence than one can in reason expect : I shall Val. Why, Tattle, you need not be much have an esteem for thee-well, and ha, ha, ha! concerned at any thing, that he says: for to well go on, and what did you say to her grace ? converse with Scandal, is to play at losing Val. I confess this is something extraordinary. loadum; you must lose good name to bim, Tatt. Not a word, as I hope to be saved; an before you can win it for yourself.
arrant lapsus linguæ ! Come, let us talk of someTatt. But how barbarous that is, and how thing else. unfortunate for him, that the world shall Val. Well, but how did you acquit yourself? think the better of any person for his ca- Tatt. Pool, pool, nothing at all; I only rallilumination ! I thank Heaven, it has always ed with you. A woman of ordinary rank was a been a part of my character to handle the re- little jealous of me, and I told her something or putations of others very tenderly indeed.
other- -faith, I know not what; come, let's Scand. Ay, such rotten reputations as you talk of something else.
[Hums a song. have to deal with are to be handled tenderly in- Scand. Hang him, let him alone; he has a deed.
mind we should inquire. Tatt. Nay, why rotten? why should you say Tutt. Valentine, I supped last night with your rotten, when you know not the persons of whom mistress, and her uncle old Foresight: I think you speak? How cruel that is!
your father lies at Foresight's. Scand. Not know them? Why, thou never Val. Yes, badst to do with any one, that did not stink to Tatt. Upon my soul, Angelica's a fine woman. all the town.
And so is Mrs Foresight, and her sister Mrs Tatt. Ha, ha, ha! nay, now you make a jest Frail. of it, indeed. For there is nothing more known, Scand. Yes, Mrs Frail is a very fine woman; than that nobody knows any thing of that nature we all know her.
As I hope to be saved, Valentine, I Tatt. Oh, that is not fair. never exposed a woman, since I knew what Scand. What?
Tatt. To tell. Val. And yet you have conversed with Scand. To tell what? Why, what do you several ?
know of Mrs Frail? Tatt. To be free with you, I have Tatt. Who, I? Upon my honour, I don't know don't care if I own that
-- nay, more (I'm
whether she be a man or woman; but by the going to say a bold word now), I never could smoothness of her chin, and roundness of her meddle with a woman, that had to do with any lips. body else.
Scand. No! Scand. How!
Tatt. No. Val. Nay, faith, I'm apt to believe him--- Scand. She says otherwise. except her husband, Tattle.
Tatt. Impossible! Tatt. Oh that
Scand. Yes, faith. Ask Valentine else. Scand. What think you of that noble commo- Tatt. Why, then, as I hope to be saved, I bener, Mrs Drab?
lieve a woman only obliges a man to secresy, Tatt. Pooh, I know madam Drab has made that she may have the pleasure of telling herself. her brags in three or four places, that I said this Scand. No doubt of it. Well, but has she and that, and writ to her, and did I know not done you wrong, or no? You have had her? ha ! what---but, upon my reputation, she did me Tatt. Though I have more honour than to tell wrong-well, well, that was malice-but I know first, I have more manners than to contradict the bottom of it. She was bribed to that by one what a lady has declared. we all know-a man, too-only to bring me into Scand. Well, you own it? disurace with a certain woman of quality
Tatt. I am strangely surprised! Yes, yes, I Scand. Whom we all know,
cannot deny it, if she taxes me with it. Tatt. No matter for that-Yes, yes, every Scand. She'll be here by and by; she sees body knows--no doubt on't, every body knows Valentine every morning. my secrets! But I soon satisfied the lady of my Tutt. Ilow!