Tat. How inhuman! Val. Why, Tattle, you need not be much concerned at any thing that he says: for to converse with Scandal is to play at losing loadum; you must lose a good name to him, before you can win it for yourself. Tat. But how barbarous that is, and how unfortunate for him, that the world should think the better of any person for his calumniation!-I thank heaven, it has always been a part of my character to handle the reputations of others very tenderly indeed. Scan. Ay, such rotten reputations as you have to deal with are to be handled tenderly indeed. Tat. Nay, why rotten? why should you say rotten, when you know not the persons of whom you speak? How cruel that is! Scan. Not know them? Why, thou never hadst to do with any body that was not common to all the town. Tat. Ha, ha, ha! nay, now you make a jest of it indeed; for there is nothing more known, than that nobody knows any thing of that nature of me. As I hope to be saved, Valentine, I never exposed a woman since I knew what woman was. Val. And yet you have conversed with several? Tat. To be free with you, I have-I don't care if I own that-nay, more (I'm going to say a bold word now), I never could meddle with a woman that had to do with any body else. Scan. How? Val. Nay, faith, I'm apt to believe him-except her husband, Tattle. Tat. Oh, that Scan. What think you of that noble commoner, Mrs. Drab? Tat. Pooh, I know madam Drab has made her brags in three or four places, that I said this and that, and writ to her, and did I know not what-but, upon my reputation, she did me wrong. Well, well, that was malice; but I know the bottom of it. She was bribed to that by one we all know-a man too-only to bring n into disgrace with a certain woman of quality~~~ - Scan. Whom we all know. Tat. No matter for that.-Yes, yes, every hody knows-no doubt on't, every body knows my secrets! -But I soon satisfied the lady of my inuocence; for I told her "Madam," says I, "there are some persons who make it their business to tell stories, and say this and that of one and the other, and every thing in the world; and," says I, "if your grace Scan. Grace! Tat. O Lord! what have I said? tongue! Val. Ha, ha, ha! -My unlucky Scan. Why, Tattle, thou hast more impudence than one can in reason expect: I shall have an esteem for thee-well, and-ha, ha, ha!-well, go on: and what did you say to her grace? Val. I confess this is something extraordinary. Tat. Not a word, as I hope to be saved; an arrant lapsus linguæ!-Come, let us talk of something else. Val. Well, but how did you acquit yourself? Tat. Pooh, poob, nothing at all; I only rallied with you. A woman of ordinary rank was a little jealous of me, and I told her something or other-faith, I know not what.-Come, let's talk of something else. [Hums a Song. Scan. Hang him, let him alone; he has a mind we should inquire. Tat. Valentine, I supped last night with your mistress, and her uncle, old Foresight. I think your father lies at Foresight's. Val. Yes. Tat. Upon my soul, Angelica's a fine woman; and so is Mrs. Foresight, and her sister, Mrs. Frail. Scan. Yes, Mrs. Frail is a very fine woman; we all know her. Tat. Oh, that is not fair. Scan. What? Tat. To tell. Scan. To tell what? Why, what do you know of Mrs. Frail? Tat. Who, I? Upon honour I don't know whether she be man or woman. Scan. No? Tat. No. Scan. She says otherwise. Tat. Impossible! Scan. Yes, faith. Ask Valentine else. Tat. Why then, as hope to be saved, I believe a woman only obliges a man to secrecy, that she may have the pleasure of telling herself, Scan. No doubt on it. Well, but has she done you wrong, or no? You have succeeded with her, ha? Tut. Though I have more honour than to tell first, I have more manners than to contradict what a lady has declared. Scan. Well, you own it? Tat. I am strangely surprised! Yes, yes, I cannot deny it, if she taxes me with it. Scun. She'll be here by-and-by; she sees Valentine every morning. Tat. How! Val. She does me the favour-I mean of a visit sometimes. I did not think she had granted more to any body. Scan. Nor I, faith.-But Tattle does not use to belie a lady; it is contrary to his character.-How one may be deceived in a woman, Valentine! Tat. Nay, what do you mean, gentlemen? Scan. I'm resolved I'll ask her. Tat. O, barbarous! Why did you not tell me- Tat. And bid me ask Valentine? Val. What did I say? I hope you won't bring me to confess an answer, when you never asked me the question. Tat. But, gentlemen, this is the most inhuman proceeding-- Val. Nay, if you have known Scandal thus long, and cannot avoid such a palpable decoy as this was; the ladies have a fine time, whose reputations are in your keeping. Re-enter JEREMY. Jer. Sir, Mrs. Frail has sent to know if you are stir ring. Val. Show her up when she comes. Tat. I'll be gone. Val. You'll meet her. Tat. Is there not a back way? [Exit Jeremy. Val. If there were, you have more discretion than to give Scandal such an advantage: why, your running away will prove all that he can tell ber. Tat. Scandal, you will not be so ungenerous?—O, I shall lose my reputation of secrecy for ever.-I shall never be received but upon public days, and my visits will never be admitted beyond a drawing-room; I shall never see a bed-chamber again, never be locked in a closet, nor run behind a screen or under a table; never be distinguished among the waiting-women by the name of trusty Mr. Tattle more.-You will not be so cruel? Val. Scandal, have pity on him; he'll yield to any conditions. Tat. Any, any terms. Scan. Come, then, sacrifice half a dozen women of good reputation to me presently--Come, where are you familiar?—And see that they are women of quality too, the first quality. Tat. 'Tis very hard. Won't a baronet's lady pass? Tat. Alas, that is the same thing. Pray spare me their titles; I'll describe their persons. Scan. Well, begin then. But take notice, if you are so ill a painter that I cannot know the person by your picture of her, you must be condemned, like other bad painters, to write the name at the bottom. Tat. Well, first then-- Mrs. Frail. [Without] Very well, very well, let them wait. Tat. O, unfortunate! she's come already. Will you have patience till another time? I'll double the number. Scan. Well, on that condition-Take heed you don't fail me. Enter MRS. FRAIL. Mrs. Frail. I shall get a fine reputation, by coming to see fellows in a morning! Scandal, you devil, are you here too? Oh, Mr. Tattle, every thing is safe with you, we know. Scan. Tattle! nour. -O, madam, you do me too much ho Val. Well, lady Galloper, how does Angelica? Val. What, you will allow an absent lover—— Mrs. Frail. No, I'll allow a lover present with his mistress to be particular; but otherwise, 1 think his passion ought to give place to his manners. Val. But what if he has more passion than manners? Mrs. Frail. Then let him marry and reform. Val. Marriage indeed may qualify the fury of his passion, but it very rarely mends a man's manners. Mrs. Frail. You are the most mistaken in the world; there is no creature perfectly civil but a husband; for in a little time he grows only rude to his wife; and that is the highest good breeding; for it begets his civility to other people. Well, I'll tell you news; but, I suppose, you hear your brother Benjamin is landed: and my brother Foresight's daughter is come out of the country. I assure you there's a match talked of by the old people.-Well, if he be but as great a sea beast as she is a land monster, we shall have a most amphibious breed-the progeny will be all otters: he has been bred at sea, and she has never been out of the country. Val. Plague take them! their conjunction bodes me no good, I'm sure. Mrs. Frail. Now you talk of conjunction, my brother Foresight has cast both their nativities, and prognosticates an admiral and an eminent justice of the peace to be the issue male of their two bodies. "Tis the most superstitious old fool! He would have persuaded me that this was an unlucky day, and would not let me |
