 | The Mulberry-Garden |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Sir John Everyoungs House stands.Enter Sir John Everyoung, and Sir Samuel Forecast.
Ever.
Well, for all this heat, let's every one
Govern his own Family as he has a mind to't;
I never vex my self that your Daughters
Live shut up as if they were in Spain or Italy;
Nor pray don't you trouble your self that mine
See Plays, Balls, and take their innocent Diversion,
As the Custom of the Country, and their age requires.
Forec.
They are my Neeces, as they are your Daughters,
And I'le tell you, you spoil 'um with your own
Examples: youth may well be allow'd to be
Stark mad, when they see age so Extravagant:
Is that a Dress for my elder Brother, and a
Reverend Justice?
Ever.
Yes, and a properer than your little Cuffs,
Black Cap, and Boots there, for a Gentleman.
Forec.
Of Eighteen I confess, but not of Fifty.
Ever.
Yes, though he were as old as any before
The Flood; and for my part I'le not bate a Riband
For all the whole Tribe of you can say: you know
Your self every Fool wou'd fain be thought wise;
And why an old man shou'd not desire to be
Thought young, I see no Reason: as long as
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Shall n'ere betray me.
Forec.
There's no need on't, your face does it sufficiently;
Come I'm asham'd to see you every day
Set out thus powder'd, and trim'd, like an old Player,
To act a young Prince; your Periwig I like
Very well, it serves to keep your bald pate warm,
But that flirting Hat there looks as it were
Made rather for your Wit than your Head.
Pray which is most a-la-mode, Right
Reverend Spark?—Points, or Laces? Girdle,
Or Shoulder-Belts? what say your Letters
Out of France?
Ever.
Lord, what pains you take to Quarrel
At my Dress and Mirth, as if age were not
Tedious enough already, but we
Must adde neglect of our selves, and moroseness
Toward others: Children now adays are
Not so fond of their Parents, that we
Need use any Art to make 'um hate us.
Fore.
Well, go then, and carry your Daughters abroad,
And break their Bellies with Sillabub, 'tis the
Greatest kindness you can do 'um now;
As you have bred 'um, you may e'ne keep
'Um to your self, and save their Portions;
I believe no body will be very fond of a
Hide-Park Filly for a Wife; nor an old Boy
That looks like a Pedlar's Pack for a Father-in-Law:
But now I think on't, you are
Such a Spark, they'd lose their Reputations
With you if they had any.
Ever.
For ought I see good Brother, they stand
As fair in the opinion of the world as yours,
And have done nothing but what I like very well.
Fore.
What do you count it nothing, to be all
Day abroad, to live more in their Coach
Than at home, and if they chance to keep
The House an Afternoon, to have the Yard
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And Pages, and their Chambers cover'd all over
With Feathers and Ribands, dancing and playing
At Cards with 'um till morning.
Ever.
Why, where's the hurt of all this?
Fore.
O no hurt at all; but if they were my Daughters
I should be looking for Cradles and Nurses,
I shou'd be sorry to hear Diana or Althea
Went abroad without some discreet body
To look after them, or were at home indeed
Without imploying their time in some piece
Of Huswifry, or at least some good Book.
Ever.
You and I shall never hit it, for now I
Think those women who have been least
Us'd to Liberty, most apt to abuse it, when
They come to't.
Fore.
O this fine believing Gentleman, I should
Laugh heartily to see him a Grand-father
Without a Son-in-Law.
Enter to them Victoria and Olivia.
Vict.
Sir if you don't use the Coach your self,
My Sister and I wou'd go abroad this Afternoon.
Ever.
Take it Children, but don't keep the Horses
Out too late.
Fore.
What! never ask 'um whither they're
Going? by your favour I'le put that Question
To 'um; Come hither Victoria, what visits
Do you intend this Afternoon?
Vict.
None Sir, we were only going a Rambling.
Fore.
A Rambling, methinks that word sounds
Very prettily i'the mouth of a young Maid;
Next time I ask 'um whither they're going,
I believe they'l answer me, To drink
A Bottle or two: but whither pray?
Olivia.
For that Sir we shall take counsel of the weather,
Either up into the City, or towards the Park.
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What, none but you two?
Oliv.
We intended to call on my Cousins
Althea and Diana.
Fore.
They took Physick this morning, and
Are not well, you'l but lose your labour.
Vict.
Sir they sent for us but an hour ago.
Fore.
You had better go without 'um, they
Are all undrest, to stay for 'um would
But make you lose the sweet of the Evening.
Ever.
Brother, what are you jealous of them too?
I assure you they are no men in womens
Cloaths.
Fore.
I am not jealous of 'um, but since you'd
Have it so, I'de as lieve they'd keep away.
Ever.
And I'de as lieve you'd keep away, till you
Understand your self better; what? you
Think your Daughters, like your Money,
Never safe, but under Lock and Key; who
Wou'd you have 'um converse with, if not
With their Relations?
Fore.
With those that are a kin to 'um in manners
And behaviour, such as they may learn
Some goodness of; I see nothing they can
Learn here but vanity.
Vict.
Sister they begin to be angry, come
Let's leave 'um till the storm be over.
[Exeunt.
Fore.
What are they gone? I warrant
If we had been reading a Play, or Romance,
We shou'd not have been rid of 'um so
Soon; but I'le spoil their sport at
My House.
Ever.
A precious Design, and worthy of your
Gravity! But if you do Brother, I'le tell
You one thing, you'l go near to spoil
A match at cross purposes: farewel.
[Exeunt.
5
SCENE II.
Modish his Chamber.Enter Henry Modish and Ned Estridge.
Mod.
Good morrow, Ned, I thought I had left you
Too deep engag'd last night to have been
Here thus early.
Estr.
Why you sneak'd away just as the Sport
Began, like a half-bred Cock that strikes
A Stroke or two briskly, and then runs.
Mod.
Faith, I had so many Irons in the fire for
To day, I durst not run the hazard of
A disorder last night: but you know
My Heart was with you.
Estr.
You wou'd not have repented it, if your
Whole Body and Soul had been with us; Jack
Wildish sent for a dozen more of Champaigne
And a Brace of such Girls, as we shou'd have
Made Honourable Love to, in any other
Place; and Sir John Everyoung was in the
Pleasantest Humour, I'de give a piece I
Cou'd repeat the Satyr he made of the Country.
Mod.
It wou'd be good News to his Daughters,
For they say, now and then in a morning
He is of another mind.
Estr.
That's only while his head akes, they need
Not fear him; he swears hee'l n'er stir
Beyond Hide-Park or Colebys at farthest,
As long as he has an Acre left, they shall
All come to him: 'tis a pleasant old Fellow,
He has given me a hundred pounds for my
Gray beard, and is to ride himself this day
Month twice round the Park, against a bay
Stone-horse of Wildishes, for two hundred more.
Mod.
Methought Wildish and you were very
6
Acquainted?
Estr.
Faith, about a week or so, times a thing only necessary
For the Friendship of vulgar Spirits: O here comes
The Gentleman we were speaking of; now Jack,
Enter Wildish.
What small Petticoat do you come from?
Wild.
E'ne such another as you are going to now
With all this Bravery: those Cravats that design
The Right Honourable, I'le lay a piece will be
Rumpl'd by a worse Woman than they were
Washt, yet afore night.
Mod.
Wou'd all the world were of his mind, we
Young men shou'd pass our time well.
Wild.
O never the better for that; such Mounsieurs
As you by your Feathers are known to be Birds
Of prey, and though you catch nothing, you
Scare all; Besides, every good man is not acquainted
With this Principle among you, that you can be
In Love with nothing but your selves, and may
Be jealous of his Wife, when indeed you come
Innocently to take a view of your persons from
Head to feet in the great Glass; comb out your
Periwig, shake your Garnitures, and be gone.
Estr.
What, dost think we have no other way
Of Entertainment? No Discourse, Jack?
Wild.
Yes, a little now and then about their dress,
Whether their Patches be too many or too few,
Too great or too small, whether her Hankerchief
Be Point de Venie or Rome; and having left behind
You some proof of your ability in the Mode,
Return to shew your selves at the last Act
Of a Play.
Mod.
I dare swear, Jack, thy Acquaintance puts
Thee to none of these Criticisms, a plain Gorget
And a black Scarf are all their varieties; and
Are you well Mistress? and what Company
Have you kept lately? thy most familiar
Questions. But Raillery apart. Say it were
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Thou believest so impregnable Forts, and to be
Receiv'd where never any but your self came
So near as to be deny'd; were not that a
Conquest?
Wild.
As great as that of a place not tenible
Can be; the present Plunder indeed is somewhat,
But upon the first Siege you must look to be
Driven out: a Ladies heart is a kind of Fortification
That is easier surpris'd by being well man'd,
And makes ever the strongest resistance of it self.
Estr.
'Tis true, Modish, for I have still observ'd,
That when one of these persons of Honour
Does a little forget her self, though at first
Through a secret Sympathy, and invincible
Inclination (as they call it) for one particular
Man, she ever after loves the whole Sex the
Better for it.
Wild.
Right; for these good Creatures, Women,
Are like Cats, if once made tame, any one
May play with 'um; if not, there's no
Coming near 'um.
Mod.
Thou think'st thou hast maul'd 'um now;
Why I tell thee, Jack, a Hector is not readier
To pick a Quarrel with a sawcy Creditor,
And swear he will never pay the Rascal,
Then a man is to have one with his Mistress
Towards the latter end of an Amour; especially.
If it amount to a handsom occasion of
Leaving her, 'tis the kindest thing she can do
Then: what think you, Estridge?
Estr.
Faith, I'm of your mind, yet I have known
Some unconscionable Ladies make their
Servants wait as long for a just Exception,
And almost as impatiently, as they did for the
First Favour.
Wild.
Favour and Exception, Gentlemen, are words
I don't meet with in seven years, where
8
When I come in, and my Excuse when I
Go away; and 'tis ever well taken too:
I have all the day to bestow upon my business,
The night upon my Friends, whilst you are
Kissing the Cards at Ombre, or presenting
Oranges at a Play-house.
Estr.
Thou never knew'st it seems what 'twas
To be in Love then.
Wild.
No faith, I never let the Disease run on so far,
I always took it in time, and then a Bottle
Of Wine or two, and a she Friend is an approv'd
Remedy; there are men in the world though,
Who in that Distemper prescribe some
Serious Employment, continual Exercise,
Spare Diet, and the like; but they are Philosophers,
And in my opinion make the Remedy worse then
The Disease.
Estr.
I do confess your's is the pleasantest Cure,
If it be one; but I doubt it only gives a little
Ease for the present, and like small Beer in the
Morning after a merry bout over night,
Doth but make us the worse afterwards.
Mod.
I now, you talk to him of what he understands,
What you do tell him of Love for? who by
His own confession never knew what it was.
Wild.
No, but I guess this same Love you speak
Of, Gentlemen, to be much like Longing in
Women, a phantastical appetite to some one
Thing above all others, which if they cannot
Get, the Lover miscarries of his passion,
And the Lady of her little one; or if they do, are
Both quickly satisfi'd, and it becomes for
Ever after very indifferent, if not loathsom.
Estr.
Well, Modish, I perceive we shall do no
Good on him, let's take him to the Mulberry-
Garden, and see what the Ladies can do.
Wild.
You shall excuse me, I have a small
9
This Afternoon: and so your Servant.
[Exit.
Mod.
'Tis time we were going,
I warrant they have walk'd every foot of
The Garden, twice over by this time:
They are mad to know, whether their
Friends in Town have dealt faithfully
With 'um of late, concerning the Mode.
Est.
These Country Ladys for the first month
Take up their places in the Mulberry Garden,
As early as a Citizens Wife at a new Play.
Mod.
And for the most part are as easily discover'd;
They have always somewhat on, that is
Just left off by the Better Sort.
Est.
They are the Antipodes of the Court; for
When a Fashion sets there, it rises
Among them.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Victoria and Olivia.Vict.
Sister, whatever the matter is, methinks
We don't see half the Company that us'd
To meet here anights, when we were last
In Town.
Oliv.
'Tis true, but methinks 'tis much better than the long
Walk at home: for in my opinion
Half a score young men, and fine Ladies
Well drest, are a greater Ornament to
A Garden, than a Wilderness of Sycamores,
Orange, and Lemmon Trees; and the rustling
Of rich Vests and Silk Pettycoats, better
Musick than the purling of Streams,
Chirping of Birds, or any of our Country
Entertainments: and that I hope the place
Will afford us yet, as soon as the Plays
Are done.
10
Sister, what wou'd you give to see
Estridge come in now?
Oliv.
'Tis impossible, he wou'd not miss his
Devotion to the Park, for all I could give,
Such an Evening as this: besides the two
Garnitures he brought out of France are
Soil'd, his Feather broke, and he has been
So out of humour these two days, there's
No enduring him; he lost his Money too
Last night I hear; and losing Gamesters
Are but ill company.
Vict.
Fye Sister, you make him a saver with
A look; and Fine, in but thinking he is so:
You deserve not so compleat a Servant,
But I hope you'le be as obliging to
His face, as you are severe to him
Behind his back.
Oliv.
The only way to oblige most men
Is to use 'um thus, a little now and then;
Even to their faces, it gives 'um an
Opinion of our wit; and is consequently
A Spur to theirs: the great pleasure
Of Gaming were lost, if we saw one
Anothers hands; and of Love, if we knew one
Anothers Hearts: there would be no room
For good Play in the One, nor for Address
In the Other; which are the refin'd parts
Of both. But what would you give to see Horatio?
Vict.
To see Horatio, as I knew him once,
I would all other happiness renounce;
But he is now anothers, and my aim
Is not to nourish, but to staye my flame:
I dare not hope my Captive to regain,
So many Charms contribute to his Chain.
Althea's Slave, let false Horatio live,
Whilst I for freedom, not for Empire strive.
Oliv.
Fye Sister, leave this Ryming at least.
11
Estr.
Ladys, it is our wonder to find any body
Here at this time of Day, and no less our
Happiness to meet with you; all the world
Is at the Park, where we had been our
Selves, but that we saw your Livery
At the Gate.
Vict.
I pray let us not keep you here Gentlemen,
Your Mistresses will curse us, and your
Selves too, by and by, if the Garden shou'd
Not fill.
Est.
If we wish any company, Ladies, 'tis for
Your sakes, not our own.
Mod.
For my part I wou'd ne're desire a
Garden fuller than this is now; we
Are two to two, and may be hand to
Hand when you please.
Oliv.
I don't know what you think, but in
My mind the More the Merrier, especially
In these places.
Est.
I, for show, Madam, but it happens in
Great Companys, as at Feasts, we see a
Great deal, and fall to heartily of nothing,
And for the most part rise hungry: and 'tis
With Lovers, Madam, as with great
Bellied Women, if they find what they
Long for, they care not whether there
Be any thing else or no.
Vict.
What in love already? sure the air of
This place is a great softner of mens hearts.
Mod.
How can it chuse, having so many
Lovers sighs daily mixt with it? but 'twere
A much better quality in't, Madam, if
It could incline Ladies to believe, and look
With pity on those flames they raise.
Oliv.
'Tis too early to make Love this two Hours.
Flames and Pity wou'd sound much better
In the Evening.
12
'Tis not with love, Madam, as with meaner
Arguments; I might entertain you with
My passion for an age, and yet have as
Much left for anon, as if I had not
Spoke one word; the Sea is easier emptied
Then a Lovers breast.
Oliv.
What say you, Sir, is this your opinion too?
Est.
Yes faith, Madam, and I think a Lover can
No more say at once, what he hath to
Say to his Mistress, than a man can eat
At once for his whole life time.
Oliv.
Nay, if it be so endless, I should beg of
My Servant, when ever I have one,
E'ne to keep it to himself for altogether.
Est.
There you betray your ignorance,
With your pardon, Madam; to see the
Fair Olivia, and not love her, is not
More impossible, than to love her, and not
Tell her on't. Silent Lovers you may read
Of, and in Romances too, but Heavens
Forbid you shou'd e're meet with any.
Oliv.
If they knew how little they were like
To get by being otherwise, I'm confident
I shou'd meet with none else.
Est.
Well, Madam, I perceive Love, like Wine,
Makes our Discourse seem extravagant
To those that are not wound up to
The same height: But had you any spark
Of what I feel, I should have had
Another Answer.
Oliv.
Why, what Answer?
Est.
Nay, I know not, but some pretty one,
That love wou'd have devis'd for you;
No more to be imagin'd by you now,
Than what you shall talk of next
In your sleep. In the mean time, Ladies,
Will you do us the honour to eat Syllabubs?
Oliv.
Sister, let's go, so they'l promise to say
13
We are there.
Mod.
You may do what you please, Ned, but 'tis
A liberty I dare not use my self to, for
Fear of an ill habit.
Estr.
You are very confident of our good opinion,
Ladies; I believe there are few women
In Town wou'd accept of our Company
On these terms.
Vict.
Faith, Sister, let's bate 'um that circumstance,
Truth is a thing meerly necessary for witnesses,
And Historians, and in these places doth but
Curb invention, and spoil good Company;
We will only confine 'um to what's
Probable.
Mod.
Content, and I dare swear 'twill be better
For all Parties.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Sir Samuel Forecasts House.Enter Althea and Diana.
Dian.
We two, or none, may of our Stars complain,
Who afford us nothing to share but pain;
Each bears her own, and th'others portion too;
This cruel wonder can high friendship do.
Alth.
To us how cheap might they have joy allow'd,
Since both had had what they on each bestow'd!
But yet thy loss I rate above my own,
Fate on thy Love till now did never frown:
Philander thee above the world did prize,
Thy Parents saw him almost with thy Eyes:
All things so prosperous were, thou cou'dst not guess,
An Accident to wound thy happiness.
I wretched Maid, have but a passion lost,
Which if none else, my Parents wou'd have crost;
My lowly hopes do but a step descend,
Whilst thine, from their full height do head-long bend:
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And Hymen steals his lighted Torch away.
Dian.
Ah, dear Althea, let not thou and I
Contend who most exceeds in misery;
It is a dismal strife, since were my own
Less, I'de share thine till they were equal grown.
Curse on Ambition, why shou'd Honour take
A present back agen, that Love did make?
On thee Eugenio did his Life bestow,
To me Philander did his Service vow;
Yet both for Honour have those ties despis'd,
And now are fled, or must be sacrific'd.
Unkind Philander, had Love fill'd thy brest
With half those flames thou hast so oft exprest,
They had consumed in their purer fires
All other thoughts, and thou wou'dst never mind,
Who were for Kings, and who for Slaves design'd.
Alth.
The noble sense they show of the sad Fate
Of their dear Country, sets a higher rate
Upon their Love; for who that had a grain
Of Honour in him, cou'd endure the Reign
Of proud Usurpers, whose Relentless will,
Is all the Law by which men spare or kill;
And his true Prince in Banishment behold,
Worthy of more than Fortune can with-hold;
These monstrous with the crimes of prosperous Fate,
The other shining in his adverse State,
So that each stroke of Fortune does but seem
A step for his Heroick mind to climb,
Till he has got above her reach, and then
The Vertue she has try'd she'l love agen?
Though I must truly mourn their ill success,
I cou d not wish Eugenio had done less.
Dian.
Had their high Vertue the least doubt endur'd,
Even with their death it had been cheaply cur'd:
But this brave Act is but to me and you,
A dangerous proof of what before we knew.
Alth.
Though their true worth to us before were clear,
15
None ever with that obstinacy lov'd,
But they were pleas'd to see their choice approv'd:
No joy compleat to worthy minds can seem,
Which is not height'ned by the worlds esteem.
Dian.
My heart, Althea, does less grieve it has
Ventur'd it's treasure in so lov'd a cause,
Then that Philander did not let me know
The danger he was like to undergo.
Alth.
Sister, though Laws of Decency refuse,
We shining Swords and glittering Armour use;
Yet a decision of what's right or wrong,
As well as mens, does to our minds belong;
And we best show it when we most approve
Those men that fight in Quarrels which we love:
Though they of Courage have the ruder part,
The Vertue may become a womans heart,
Though not her hand; and she that bravely dares
Expose her Love, sure for her life not cares.
I knew Eugenio must that hazard run,
Nor could consent he should the danger shun;
And had Philander the like thoughts of you,
He without doubt had dealt as freely too.
Dian.
I must confess my love could never yield,
That he agen shou'd win it in the field:
Let me the greatness of your mind admire,
Whilst I deplore the greatness of my fire,
A fire which lends no light, but that which serves
To shew how much what I expos'd deserves,
How much he hazards, and how far I am
From vent'ring him for the whole voice of Fame,
Whose danger had I known, my Eyes, alas!
Had wept a Sea, he wou'd have fear'd to pass;
But we so long of what is past complain,
As if no further mischief did remain,
As if Fate here had her whole malice spent,
And all the Arrows from her Quiver sent.
Alth.
When Fate wou'd harm where Vertue does protect,
16
She can but rob the Vertuous of that rest,
She must restore again with interest,
And all the danger of these Heroes past,
Must needs consider their high worth at last.
Dian.
What we desire, how fain we wou'd believe,
And wish that Fortune knew not to deceive?
But she profusely to some presents makes,
And as unjustly from some others takes.
I fear she's so much to their worth in debt,
She'l nothing pay, because the whole's too great:
Like Tyrants wealth, her Bounties still appear,
Who give to few, what they from many tear.
Alth.
In the mean time I fear our cruel friends
Will not consult our liking, but their ends:
I know they'l press I should Horatio wed,
And promise thee unto some Strangers bed.
Dian.
They may such Matches as they please provide,
But here I vow, I'le never be a Bride
To any but Philander; in that Heart
He taught to love, none else shall have a part.
Alth.
I the like Vow to my Eugenio make,
Which Fates worst malice shan't have power to break;
As Trees expos'd to Storms take deeper root,
Than those that do in peaceful Valleys sprout:
So in all Noble minds, a virtuous Love
By opposition does the firmer prove.
Dian.
'Tis fit, Althea, I now take my leave,
Whilst you prepare Horatio to receive.
Alth.
Farewel, Diana, and be sure you do
Nothing unworthy of your Love and Vow.
Ring.
Exeunt Diana and Althea severally.
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