University of Virginia Library

SCEN. VI.

Scene, The Widows House.
Enter Betty and Lettice, the two Chamber-maids, severally.
Betty.
Oh, Lettice, we have staid for you.

Lett.
What hast thou done to the French-man,
Girl? he lies yonder neither dead nor drunk;
No body knows what to make of him.

Betty.
I sent for thee to help make sport with him;
He'l come to himself, never fear him:
Have you not observ'd how scurvily h'as look'd
Of late?

Lett.
Yes; and he protests it is for love of you.

Betty.
Out upon him, for a dissembling Rascal;
H'as got the foul Disease;
Our Coachman discover'd it by a Bottle of Diet
Drink he brought and hid behind the stairs, into which
I infus'd a little Opium.

Lett.
What dost intend to do with him?

Betty.
You shall see.

Enter Coach-man, with a Tub without a bottom, a shut at the top to be lock'd, and a hole to put ones head out at, made easie to be born on ones shoulders.
Coach-m.
Here's the Tub; where's the French-man?

Betty.
He lies behind the stairs; haste and bring him in,
That he may take quiet possession of this wooden Tenement;
For 'tis neer his time of waking.
The Coach-man and another Servant bring in Dufoy, and put him into the Tub.
Is the Fidler at hand that us'd to ply at the blind
Ale-house?

Coach-m.
He's ready.

Enter a Fidler.
Betty.
Well, let's hear now what a horrible noise you
Can make to wake this Gentleman.

[Fidler plays a Tune.
Lett.
He wants a helping hand; his eye-lids
[Dufoy begins to wake.
Are seal'd up; see how the wax sticks upon 'em.
Let me help you, Monsieur.

Dufoy.
Vat aré you? Jernie! vat is dis! am I
Jack in a boxé? begar, who did putté
Me here?

Betty.
Good-morrow, Monsieur; will you be pleas'd
To take your Pills this morning?

Dufoy.
Noé; but I vo'd have de diable take youé;
It vas youé dat did abusé me duss, vas
It noté? begar I vil killé ale de
Shamber-maid in Englandé.

Lett.
Will you be pleas'd to drink, Monsieur?
There's a Bottle of your Diet-drink within.

Dufoy.
Are youé de littel diable come to tormenté mé?
Morbleu? vas ever man afronté in dis naturé!

Betty.
Me-thinks he has ferbon, mine Monsieur,
Now if you please to make your little Addressé,
And your amouré, you will not find me so coy.

Dufoy.
Begar I vil no marié de cousin Germain
Of de diable.

Lett.
What shou'd he do with a Wife? he has not
House-room for her.

Betty.
Why do you not keep your head within
Doors, Monsieur?

Lett.
Now there's such a storm abroad.

Dufoy.
Why did not youé keep your Maiden-headé
Vid in dooré? begar, tellé me daté.

Coach-m.
Have you any fine French Commodities to sell,
Gloves and Ribbands? y'ave got
A very convenient shop, Monsieur.

Dufoy.
I do hope you vil have de verié
Convenient halteré, begar.
Jerny, Can I not taré dis tingé in de pieces?

Betty.
You begin to sweat, Monsieur; the Tub is
Proper for you.

Dufoy.
I have no more patiencé;
I vil breaké dis prison, or I vil breaké
My neké, and ye shall alé be hangé.

[Struggles to get out.
Lett.
He begins to rave; bless the poor man.

Betty.
Some Musique quickly, to
Compose his mind.
[The Musique plays; and they Dance about him.
How prettily the snail carries his Tenement
[He walks with the Tub on his back.
On his back! I'm sorry I am but his Mistress:
If I had been your Wife, Monsieur, I had made
You a compleat snail; your horns
Shou'd have appear'd.

Dufoy.
I vil have de patience, dere is no oder remedé;
You be alé de Raskalé Whore; de diable
Take you alé; and I vil say no more, begar.

Betty.
This is a very fine Vessel, and wou'd swim well;
Let's to the Horse-pond with him.

Lett.
Come, come, he looks as sullenly as a Hare
In her Form; let's leave him.

Coachm.
Your Serviteur tres humble, Monsieur.

[Exeunt all but Dufoy.
Dufoy.
Bougré, I canno hangé my selfé; begar I canno
Drowné my selfé; I vil go hidé my selfé,
And starvé to dyé; I vil no be de laughé
For every Jackanapé Englishé. Morbleu.