University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE Continues.
Enter Sir John Shittlecock and a Servant.
Ser.
Who wou'd you speak with, Sir?

Sir Joh.
I don't know—

I have a Devilish mind to Court Madam Lovely, and dare not—
Pox on me for a Half-hearted Fop—What shou'd I fear? I
will venture— (Aside.)
Sir, I wou'd speak with your Lady,
Madam Lovely—Hold, hold, Sir—

I dare not venture— Aside
—Call Madam Sistly—
'Egad Ill venture— Aside.

Hold, call Madam Lovely—'Egad I dare— (Aside.
Hold,
call Madam Sistly.

Ser.

The Man is mad; let him call 'em himself—

(Ex.
Sir Joh.

Oh! Here comes Madam Sistly—

Enter Cecilia.

Pretty Rogue: Gad, I think she's handsomer than Sister—
No—Pox—Yes, Pox—No, Pox—Yes, Gad she is— (Aside.

My Dear!

Ce.

Stand off, you base, unworthy, false, deboist Man—you—
you have been making Love to my Sister Lovely—a married
Woman.

Sir John.

Oh Pox! Has she heard o' that?

(Aside.
C.

I'm serv'd right, for Entertaining and Loving a Man, before
I knew him! I hate my self for it.

(She Weeps.
Sir Joh.

I swear she cries: I'd give a hundred Pound some body
saw it, for the Honour of it

(Aside.
Ce.

Wou'd I had never seen your Face, you scurvy Man.

Sir Joh.

She takes on more and more. If she shou'd hang her
self for me; there wou'd be an Honour to me! Gad, wou'd she

wou'd. Oh, no, Pox! that wou'd be pity—Pox— (Aside.)

Come, don't spoil thy pretty Eyes, my Dear.

Ce.

Get you gone, and don't tro—o—ouble me.

(Sobs.
Sir Joh.

She Sobs, I Swear, that she can hardly speak—.
Pretty Heart! Now cannot I forbear Weeping with her. (Aside.)

My Dear.

Ce.

Stand off.

Sir Joh.

Pray hear me.

Ce.

I won't.

Sir Joh.

Pray do: You must know, I am one, the World is
pleas'd to call a Beau; and you know a little Courtship is expected
by every Lady from a Beau. So I bestowed a little, to shew my
good Breeding, that was all. But if you will forgive, I'll never
shew any good Breeding again, as long as I live.

Ce.

What care I what you do.

Sir Joh.

Nay, if I can't be forgiven, I had as good make Love
in earnest.

Ce.

Well, I will forgive you for once; but if ever you do so
again—

Sir Joh.

I Swear I won't—and so let me kiss your pretty
Hand, to shew we are reconciled.

Ce.

I won't.

Sir Joh.

But once.

Ce.

I won't.

Sir Joh.

Pray do.

Ce.

I won't.

Sir Joh.

Nay, if you will be so Cruel, Fare you well.

Ce.

Well, I will—but 'tis more than you deserve.

Sir Joh.

Then we are Reconcil'd?

Ce.

May be we are, may be we are not—I won't tell you—
So Fare you well—

(Ex.
Sir Joh.

Yes, yes, we are pretty, Rogue. 'Tis a fine thing to
have a pretty Lady cry for one. Gad, I'd be contented to be
Dead, upon condition all the pretty Ladies in the Town cry'd for
me. Ah! What a Pleasure that wou'd be?

Oh Dear! Here comes the fine Waiting-woman.
Enter Lionell.
Now for my Heart cannot I be true to Mrs. Sistly.
Oh, No! Here I shall be in my Element, I'm a Pe-goose with a
Lady; but I'm the Devil with a Chamber-Maid. Here I can kiss
without a Master of the Spiritual Ceremonies. Pretty Mrs. Jenny!
How does your under Petticoat?

Lio.

Oh! Pray forbear, Sir: You and I are not so intimate:
You know neither my Name, nor my Nature. My Name is not
Jenny, nor is my Nature wanton.

Sir Joh.

Heigh, heigh! my Name nor my Nature!—thou art a
very pretty Scholar. Can'st thou speak any Latin?

Lio.

No, Sir, What shou'd I do with Latin? I have English
enough to give a Gentleman an Answer.

Sir Joh.

Very witty, and very pretty, faith. I know thy Name,
not that which thy Godmothers gave thee, when thou wer't
sprinkled at the Font. No, thy Father and Mother sprinkled thy
Face and Beauty; Thy Christen Name is Prettiness, and thy Sir-name,
Come kiss me.

Lio.

No—good Sir—I'm none o' the Family o' the Kiss me's.
Pray, Sir, keep off.

Sir Joh.

No, no, I will have a Kiss, i' faith; I will i' faith, I
will i'faith.

Lio.

No, no i' faith, i' faith, you shall not Sir.

Sir Joh.

Heigh! heigh! she's as stiff as her own Broom; stiffer
for that has a stake i' the Back, but a Flag i' the Tail. What ailst
you? Dost not like me?

Lio.

Like you, Sir! Who does not like the fine Sir John Shittle-cocke?

Sir Joh.

Oh! you little Rogue! do ye jeer?

Lio.

Jeer, Sir; no, Sir, you know I don't.

Sir Joh.

Why, wou'dst thou have me, if I I'de have thee?

Lio.

Have you, Sir? ah! wou'd I were a Queen for your sake.

Sir Joh.

'Gad, she'l make me stark mad in love with her. I'le
Marry thee, faith I will—i' faith I will.

Lio.

Well Sir, don't mock; I have seen as wise Men as you
snap'd—

(Aside.
Sir Joh.

But prethee, dear Rogue; let me have a touch of thy
fine Lips.

Lio.
I'le give him one for a bait—
(Aside.
Oh! Sir! would I were worthy of the Honour.

Sir Joh.
Oh! the honour will be mine.

Lio.
Well, Sir, in a civil way

(He salutes her.
Sir Joh.
I swear sh'as all Arabia in her Mouth.

Lio.
And you have all the East-Indies, Sir, in yours.

Enter Thornebacke.
Th.
So, Shittlecocke! undermine me every where,
Both with the Lady, and the Servant too?
I think the Women are all in a plot,
To put me totally out o' conceit
With my own person—'Gad, I hate my self.
I've had a good opinion o' my self
These 30 years, and lost it in a minute.

Sir Joh.
Oh Sir, the Ladies are all dying for you.
I only take possession, Sir, for you.
Well pretty Rogue! I'le see you another time—

(Ex.
Th.
So, so! what? you and he are very great?
Much good may do you; I'le not trouble you.

Lio.
Nay Squire! pray Squire!

Th.
What wou'd you have with me?
A Horse don't love to grase after a Goose,
And will I touch you after such a Fellow?
Do'e think I have more Stomach than a Horse?

Lio.
What wou'd you have me do, Squire? he's a Gentleman,
And he did humbly beg a Kiss o' me—

Th.
Then it seems, Madam, If I Married you,
And a Spark humbly beg'd me for a Cuckold,
You'd very humbly grant the favour to him.
Madam, I am not for such humble Women.

Lio.
A Cuckold? Squire! do'e think I am so base?

Th.
I cannot think worse of Women than I find 'em.

Lio.
Ay, this it is to be a handsom Man:
Too many Women grant you any thing,
And then you think all Women are as bad.
I love you as my life; but if I lov'd you
More than I do (but that's impossible)
Though 'twere to save my life, I'de grant you nothing,
But what you might have in a civil way.

Th.
A handsom Man? prethee don't flatter me;
I have just got some wisdom from your Lady,
Sh'as clear'd my Head of all fantastique thoughts,
I thank her for't; she call'd me to my Face,
A sawcy disagreeable old Coxcomb;
Now she has made me wise, you wou'd spoil all,
And coakes me into a Coxcomb once again.
I'le see you whip'd first; I will be an Ass
No longer to your Sex.

Lio.
And did she give you
Such odious Names? come, she is a proud Woman,
And does not speak her mind; she'd give the World
She were but half so handsom for a Woman,
As you are for a Man.

Th.
Prethee away.

Lio.
I speak my thoughts, and that you know too well.
Well, my dear, Squire I cannot stay with you now,
Come to me when my Lady's gone to Bed,
About Eleven o'Clock, and then we'l junket.

Th.
'Gad, I shall be a Woman's Fool again.
Well, if you have a mind I should come to you,
Go to a Bagnio, and sweat out the Kiss
This Fool has given you.

Lio.
I will, I will.
Away, away, I see Squire Polidor,
Creeping in yonder Room, and I'de feign watch him.

(Aside.
Th.
Well, then farewell—my Girl—

(Ex.
Lio.
Farewell sweet Squire—
Well this Squire Polidor's an errant Thief,
And comes to rob my Master of his Honour.
That was his business lately with my Lady.
'Twas so! 'twas so! he was endeavouring
To commit Burglary upon her Body
Ay, ay, 'twas so, that made my Lady call.
Now is he stealing to her the back way.
(She looks within the Scenes.
And now I swear he's got into her Chamber.
What will become o' this? I'le peep and listen.

(Ex.
SCENE Another Room.
Enter Mrs. Lovely, Polidor stealing after her.
Pol.
So! She's alone! now will I board my Prize.
(Aside.
Dear Madam!

(Steps into her sight.
Mrs. Lo.
Bless me Heaven! who's there? who's there?

Pol.
Call not, Dear Madam; fear no harm from me.
No one can come who loves you more than I do;
And I fear nothing but the loss of you,
Therefore you call in vain; I will not stir.
You'l only bring dishonour on your self.
Then spare your self.

Mrs. Lo.
What doest thou mean to force me?

Pol.
By the sweet force of Love, no otherwise.

Mrs. Lo.
'Tis likely, I shou'd be allur'd to love
One, in the frightful Figure, which you make;
For you come like a Ravisher, and Robber.
And treacherously seek to rob your sworn,
Obliging Friend; that of all Men on Earth
I'le ne're trust you.

Pol.
Oh! Madam! do you think
I'm serious, when I giue the name of Friend
To such a foolish Creature, as your Husband?
He loves one certain Beauty above the World,
I mean his handsom self—
That you have no great cause to speak for him.

Mrs. Lo.
Suppose all this; I will be just to him
For my own sake.

Pol.
He thinks you can't be just,
That you can never do his merit right.

Mrs. Lo.
I care not what he thinks; if he wants sence
And Honour, must I therefore do the same.

Pol.
Madam, upon my knees I beg your pity.

Mrs. Lo.
You'r a presumptious Beggar, you ask Jewels,
My Conscience, Honour; Sir, I am bestowed,
You come too late.

Pol.
You have bestowed, indeed,
Too much of your fair self before I saw you,
So much, the thought on't almost makes me mad;
And on a very undeserving Creature.
But I am sure he has not all of you,
You cannot love a Man so much beneath you
In understanding, as your Husband is
Therefore I hope I'm not too late for Love.

Mrs. Lo.
You are, to hope for any fruits of Love.
At least for any fruits, with Innocence.

Pol.
May I not glean upon another Ground
What he rejects? Madam, I may, and will.

Mrs. Lo.
I tremble! I'm afraid he'l conquer me.
(Aside.
I beg you leave me.

Pol.
Oh! are you descending
From your great heights? I'le catch you as you fall.

(He Embraces her.
Mrs. Lo.
Fye on you! you pretend to some Religion;
You go to Church.

Pol.
Yes, with a Zealous Heart;
But I am overcome, by such temptation
No Mortal can resist; which is not more
Or less than Man: Where's the young vigorous Saint,
Who would not, to ascend these Mounts of Lillies,
Leave for a while Religion at the bottom?

Mrs. Lo.
You make me hate you; you shall find, I'me one
Who will not be allur'd, to do the least
Dishonour to Religion?

Pol.
No, nor I.
Our happy Love, may have a secret Church
Under the Church; as Faith's was under Paul's,
Where we may carry on our sweet Devotion,
And the Cathedral Marriage keep it's State,
And all its Decency, and Ceremonies.

Mrs. Lo.
And will our Consciences be decent too?
Oh! Marriage Bonds are not like other Bonds,
Seal'd but with Wax.

Pol.
Or else you wou'd be Wax,
Soft melting Wax, and yield to my Impression.
Is it not so? Oh! come thou sweetest Creature,
That ever grac'd the Earth, or blest a Lover,
Make me more blest, than e're was Man in love;
For never Mortal lov'd as I do now.
See yonder gentle yielding Bed invites;
The Curtains wave to us, the Air seems sensible
Of hastning Bliss, and dances round the Room.

Mrs. Lo.
You give me very great offence—be gone.

Pol.
I cannot go, I can as easily tear
A Star from Heaven, as my self from you.

Mrs. Lo.
When you have gain'd your ends, you'l soon be gone.
Love hastens, like a wanton Summer Bird
To Foreign Lands, when once hot Weather's over;
And heat in Love goes quickly after Harvest.
When I've lost my Honour, you'l believe
I've lost my Beauty too; the Charms of Women
Vanish like Fairies, when approach'd too near.
Then go, or you and I shall part for ever.

Pol.
Madam, I cannot part with you, nor will,
Till I'm the happiest Man in the whole World.

Mrs. Lo.
Is't possible? what do you think I am?

Pol.
I have no time to think, no power to think.
My ravish'd Soul is gone out o' my Head
Into my Heart, my Veins; I've lost all thinking.

Mrs. Lo.
Be gone, or you'l undo your self and me;
Camilla will be here immediately.

Pol.
Well, let her come, she'l think you are at Prayers.

Mrs. Lo.
What shall I do with him? I'm yielding! yielding.
(Aside.
I will not run the danger for the World,
And she'l be here in half an hour at most.

Pol.
A noble space o' time! 'tis not enough
To raise my Joys so high, as I desire,
But I, at least, may lay a good Foundation.
That I'm resolv'd to do.
Come, come, My Dear! I've got thy Beauteous Body
Into my Custody—Now e're we part
I'le strein for all the Debts thou ow'st my Heart.

(Ex.
He pulls her off the Stage, and bolts the Door; Then Enter Lionel.
Lio.
Oh! dear! dear! what have I seen and heard?
Shall I disturb 'em? I've a mind to do't.
I envy 'em—I will—no, 'twill be pity;
I would be loath to be serv'd so my self.
I am possessor of a Mystery,
And I'le make Money on't, as all Trades do.
I'le let my Lady know I understand her,
And make her glad, if I will be her Lady;
Which I'le not be, unless she pays me well;
And with a good reason too, for to a Woman
It is a horrid pain to hold her Tongue;
And I must bear the torment a great while,
That I shall very dearly earn the Money.
Oh! dear! dear! here comes Madam Camilla.
What will become o' my Lady now? for she won't be
Kept from her. I'le ha' no partner in my Mystery,
For fear o' spoiling the profit of it; else I wou'd not
Care what became of my scurvy Lady.

Enter Camilla.
Cam.

Your Servant Mrs. Lionell; I ha' dispatch'd my business at
home, and come to lie with your Lady.

Lio.

She's dispatching a little business too, Madam; she'l be ready
to wait upon you presently.

Oh! what a base Office do I take upon my self?
I'le see my Lady whip'd, before I keep her
Stinking Counsel—
(Aside.
Madam you may go in, if you please!—
—No, Madam, if you please, let it alone.

Cam.
Heigh! heigh! what ails the foolish Creature?
(Aside.

Yes, Mrs. Lionel, I'le go in; your Lady keeps nothing from me,
Ha! the Door's shut! and I hear a busle within! Is any body with
your Lady?

Lio.

Yes, Madam!—no, no, Madam.

Cam.

Shes' fudled, I think.

(Aside.
Lio.

I'm not expert at these businesses. I shall betray all; I'll be
gone. Oh! fie, upon me! for undertaking this base Office.

(Aside.)
(Ex.
Cam.
What means this confusion? and in the Chamber
I hear whispering—listens—and a Mans Voice—
I'm stricken to the heart, 'tis Polidor,
As sure as I am here, this tempting Man
Has, in my absence, ruin'd Mrs. Lovely.
'Tis so! 'tis so! for now I hear him plain.
Oh! Woman! Woman! what a thing is Woman?
I swear I am asham'd I am a Woman.
I'le rowze 'em—Madam—I am come, I'm come,
A Door creakes—I will see who gets out.
'Tis Polidor, he has undone us both;
Ruin'd her Honour, and has broke my Heart.

Enter Mrs. Lovely.
Mrs. Lo.
I hope in Heaven she has not overheard us.

Cam.
Oh! You vile horrid Woman!

Mrs. Lo.
I'm discover'd!
I'll kill my self— Aside
—What do you mean by this?

Cam.
Pray, What did Mr. Polidor with you?

Mrs. Lo.
How! Mr. Po—Po—Polidor—

Cam.
Mr. Po—Po—Polidor. (She Mimicks her)
How you Stammer.
Your Sin's so very young, it can't speak plain.

Mrs. Lo.
Oh! It is true, he got into my Chamber—
And so—but—but—but—I'll tell you.

Cam.
But—but—but—
You wou'd fain tell a, Flam if you cou'd speak;
Your blushing Brow is the only part about you,
Has any Modesty or Truth in it.
That blazing Beacon openly confesses,
The Enemy has been upon the Coast.

Mrs. Lo.
What? you believe I've got the Lover from you,
And, in Revenge, design to blast my Honour.
Hark you—if you do—I'll stab you—

Cam.
Stab me!

Mrs. Lo.
Stab you.

Cam.
Here's a Virago! Are you such a Woman?
Nay, then I think, I'm bound in Conscience
To give the World a publick Warning of you.
I'll Print you, Publish you in the Gazette.

Mrs. Lo.
Will you?

Cam.
I will.

Mrs. Lo.
'Tis well—you'll publish Falshoods,
To please your Malice, Envy, and Revenge.
Is that your Sanctity? I find your Heart
Has many Motions, as some Watches have;
For you have Love, and Piety, and Malice;
And all these Motions hinder one another.
You are impotent and false in all of 'em;
So are the Hearts of all the Saints I know.
They'r the worst kind of Hearts, they ne're go right;
They'r neither true to Wickedness, or Goodness.
Vertuous they are by halves, they do not love it:
In Sin they wou'd be dabling, and they dare not;
And then their Envy wou'd bark others from it.

Cam.
You are sincerely and compleatly Wicked;
I have more Proofs on't, Madam, than you think.
For shame, for shame, persist not thus in Sin:
Repent, or I will make you an Example.

Mrs. Lo.
Oh! she will ruine me, I must submit.
(Aside.
These Saints will suffer no Sin but their own.
Oh, Madam! I confess I've been surpriz'd
By wicked Polidor; he forc'd himself
Into my Chamber, and he wou'd not leave me
Till he had ruin'd me. Oh, spare me! spare me!
I promise you, I will not spare my self;
I'll live in everlasting Grief and Shame:
I'll never see wicked Polidor again,
Nor any thing on Earth—I'll weep my Eyes out.

Cam.
Oh, Madam! now y'are growing worth my Pity;
Continue thus, I will not only spare you,
But love you, love you dearly as a Sister;
And I wil do my best t'establish you
Firmer than ever, in your Husband's Love,
And in Heavens Favour, if my Prayers can do't.

Mrs. Lo.
Oh, Madam! you are some Cœlestial Creature,
Let me adore you.

(Kneels to her.
Cam.
Nay this is too much.

Enter Lionell.
Lio.
Madam, my Masters come—

(Speaks Snappingly.
Mrs. Lo.
Oh! How she frightens me.

Lio.
A scurvy Woman; I can't speak to her,
(Aside.
Nor look on her, with any Patience—

(Ex.
Mrs. Lo.
I'm in strange Disorder;
I shall betray my self.
Enter Lovely.
Return'd so soon?
(She Runs, and Embraces him.
My dearest Dear, you please me now indeed.

Lo.
Well, and your Letter pleas'd me very well.
It was methoughts a kind of Paper Window
Into your Soul; and at the opening gave me the best Prospect
I ever had. You are discreet and vertuous;
But be not displea'd with Mr. Polidor;
He is a well-bred Mans, and courted you
In Love to me, and Complaisance to you,
To keep you in good Humor in my Absence.
He knows your Sex is sick, when y'are not Courted,
When not smil'd on, you dye like Plants in Shades.
He has bestow'd his Heart on this fair Lady.
Madam Camilla, your most humble Servant.
I thank you for your Kindness to my Wife.
You come, it seems, to bring her a Night-jewel
To grace her Bosom with; I mean your self.
I'm told, you meant to be her Bed-fellow.

Cam.

Yes, Sir; but you have brought her in your self, a better
Jewel.

Lo.
Oh! your Servant, Madam.
Upon my Conscience she's in Love with me,
And for my Sake, pays Visits to my Wife.
(Aside.
Dear Polidor—

Enter Polidor.
Pol.
Dear Lovely!

Cam.
Oh, false Man!—

(Aside.
Lo.
You Rogue, you have been tampering with my Wife.

(Aside to Pol.
Pol.
You have put me on a fine piece o' Business.

(Aside to Lo.
Lo.
Poor Polidor! Hast thou been bafled? Ha!
I've had a Letter from my Wife worth Gold.
Poor Snake! How out o' Countenance thou art.
Methinks, a forward Fellow, that attempts
To make a Man a Cuckold, and fails in it,
Is more ridiculous than any Cuckold.
'Egad, methinks thou art my Cuckold now, ha, ha.

Pol.
So you reward me well for all my Service.

Lo.
Oh! thank thee a thousand times; and do thou Marry,
I'le do thee as much kindness, with thy Wife.

Pol.
I thank you, Sir; I shall not trouble you.

Lo.
But one word more; was my Wife true to me
From Conscience, Duty, and such Vulgar things?
Or from the value, which she has for me?

Pol.
I will not tell you, it will make you vain.

Lo.
Enough, I'm happy!—now I'le reconcile
My Wife and thee.

Pol.
I am asham'd to look on her.

Lo.
Alas! poor Rogue! come hither, Mrs. Lovely.
I much commend your watchfulness and care
Of your dear Honour; but don't fear this Gentleman,
He's your near Cousin.

Mrs. Lo.
He is not my Cousin—
He may be yours.

Lo.
He's Kin to both of us:
That is to say, he is of our Proud Strain,
And has, like us, exquisite sense of Honour.
Look, if she does not turn away from him,
Not only in scorn of him; but my Commands.
These Vertuous Women are so insolent.
Embrace her Polidor.

Pol.
I dare not do't.

Lo.
The Devil's in you both.

Pol.
Well, don't be angry,
Your humble Servant, Madam.

Mrs. Lo.
Sir, your Servant.
You'l pardon me, I did not understand you.

Lo.
No, you'r a Goose; and cackle, (do you hear?)
When any Man but he, assaults your Capitol.
He's half my self; there's but one Soul between us,
And so we two together make one Husband.
Therefore be kind to him, as half your Husband.
And you commit Adult'ry, Polidor,
If, whilst she lives, you lie with other Women.
Now keep together, I will to this Lady.
Sweet, Madam, shall we enjoy your Company
For half an hour?

Cam.
Sir, I'm at your Command.
I'le stay to rattle this false Polidor—

(Aside.
Lo.
Thanks, dearest Creatures; and I'm yours, I swear.
I'm strangely fortunate with all the Fair.

(Ex.