 | The Married Beau : or, The Curious Impertinent |  |
ACT. IV.
Scene, Covent-Garden.Enter Sir John Shittlecocke.
Sir Joh.
Gad, I can't go to Bed till I've taken a turn before this
House. Pox on me for a Fool, I'll go home. Pox, gad,
I can't; pox!—I must walk here. That I shou'd be in Love with
three Beauties at once! and, gad, I am. I don't know which I love
best, Mrs. Lovely, Mrs. Sistly, or Mrs. Lionell. They are three sweet
Creatures, and make this House to me, a Sweet House. The Doors are
Sweet Wood, the Bricks are Sweet Paste, the Mortar is Amber-Greece,
and the Stones are Sugar-Candy.—Gad, they are.
Enter Thornback.
Th.
'Tis now about Eleven o'Clock, the time Mrs. Lionell appointed
me. How now? Who walks before the Door?
Sir Joh.
Methinks all the three pretty Rogues see me, and watch to
steal out to me. And first Mrs. Sistly creeps out. Dear Madam.—
[He embraces a Post.
Th.
'Tis Shittlecock, and he has got a Madam with him.—He's
Kissing. He makes my Mouth water. Who is she? Oh! foppish
Rogue! he's kissing a Post. And 'tis a kind Post, it denies him nothing.
—Ha! ha!
Sir Joh.
Dear Soul—
[He hugs the Post, then speaks in a Woman's
Tone.]
Well, I did steal out to bid you good night, Sir John. Good
night—good night—
[He speaks for himself.]
What so soon my Love?
[Now in a Woman's Tone.]
I must, I must, good night—good
night—
[Now for himself.]
Good night, dear Sissee.
Th.
Was ever such a Coxcomb? I dare not tell this, it will reflect
upon all Beaus, and I am loath to foul my own Nest; which is too foul
already. Many of us Beaus are such odious Rogues, 'tis pity our Fathers
had not been Married to Posts.
Sir Joh.
Now methinks stately Madam Lovely comes to me, like a
Venus out of a Sea darkness.
Th.
From what hedge did this Gipsie steal that rag o' Wit? There's
no laying any Wit abroad, some Rogue or another pilfers it.
Sir Joh.
This, Madam, is a high Glory indeed.
[He speaks in a Woman's
Tone.]
I saw you at the Door, Sir John, and cou'd not but shew
you a little pity:
[He speaks for himself.]
Oh! Madam, you do me a
great Honour; and your Favours are not thrown away on an ungrateful
Dog. Egad—I Love and Honour your Ladyship above all things.
Oh! how he Loves and Honours his Lady Post? truly it deserves
Honour, more than many that have it.
Sir Joh.
Going already, Madam? Oh! Madam! Pox!—
[In a
Woman's Tone.]
I must, I must, Sir John; good night, good night.
[For
himself.]
Well, dear Soul, good night.
Th.
Oh! Mrs. Lionell! are you come? So now the Post is Mrs. Lionell.
This Post will have as many Christian Names, as some foreign
Princesses have.
Sir Joh.
I thought you had been in Love with Thorneback, Mrs.
Lionell.
Th.
Ha! the Rogue Names me.
Sir Joh.
[In a Woman's Tone.]
In Love with Mr. Thorneback, Sir
John, and have you i' my Eye? You cannot think I have so little judgment.
You are the handsomest Man in England, and he's the ugliest.
I swear he turns my Stomach.
Th.
Does he so?—
[He goes to Sir John.
Sir Joh.
Thorneback! I'm catch'd in my Foppery.
[Aside.
Th.
You are a conceited Fellow, Shittlecock, and your Post is a lying
Bitch. I cou'd find i' my heart to set your Head where your Heels are,
and then I shou'd turn your Stomach in good earnest.
Sir Joh.
How shall I bring my self off?
[Aside.]
You think you
have catch'd me making a Fool o' my self,—oh! pox! you are mistaken,
I saw you—pox.—
Th.
No, thou didst not make a Fool o' thy self. Nature made a
Fool o' thee, and when she gave thee being, presented thee with a Coxcomb:
Wou'd she were less bountiful o' those Presents; we abound
with 'em.
Sir Joh.
Well, you ha' Wit, Tom. Where does it lye, in your
round back, Tom? hum, Tom.
Th.
No—Tom Ninny, my Head is better than my Back, and I'm
sorry for it. What prefers a Man to a great Lady? A good back. What
makes a weak headed Fellow in favour with a great Man? A good back
to bear Affronts, and all the shame of his Master's Rogueries. If I desir'd
advancement, I wou'd wish my self a good back, and be content
no part o' my Head were strong, but my Forehead; I wou'd have that
be all o' Brass. But come, Sir, you say I turn Mrs. Lionell's Stomach.—
you shall see, if that be true, presently. Mrs. Lionell! Mrs. Lionell!
Enter Mrs. Lovely, to the Balcony.
Mrs. Lo.
Some body in the Street calls Lionell.
Th.
She's come into a Balcony, now, Sir.
Sir Joh.
Gad, she is; to what purpose shou'd a Man be handsome,
when such ugly Fellows get fine Women?
[Aside.
Th.
Mrs. Lionell.
Mrs. Lo.
Well.
Th.
Is that proud fantastical Jilt, thy Lady, i' Bed?
I come out it seems to have my Picture drawn. I'll pay
the Painter,
[Aside.]
She's just gone to Bed.
Th.
That's well. And is she beginning to spin a Nap, the only
Huswifry she's good for?
Mrs. Lo.
She's about it.
Th.
May she spin Sleep strong as a Cable, that may bind her Confounded
Body to her good Behaviour? Whilst I enjoy thy sweet one.
Wo't t'ou come down to me?
Mrs. Lo.
Go to the other Door, I'll come, or send.
Th.
Sweet Rogue! now Shittlecock, do I turn Stomachs?
[Ex.
Sir Joh.
Was ever such a lucky ugly Fellow? I shall turn Witch
with Envy. I must see what they do—
[Ex.
Enter a Servant, to the Balcony.
Mrs. Lo.
Jane.
Jane.
Madam.
Mrs. Lo.
A couple of Fops follow Lionell to delude her; they are at
the back Door. They are Beaus, and love Washes; give 'em a wash of
clean Water. They'll think it something worse, so I wou'd have
'em.
[Ex.
[Water is flung down within the Scenes, and Thorneback, and Sir John Shittlecock return dabled.]
Sir Joh.
Oh! Pox! in what a pickle am I?—Pox!
Th.
Oh! th'impudent nasty Sow! what does she do this for?
Sir Joh.
You don't turn Stomachs, Thorneback? You are so lucky with
the Ladies. Pox o' your luck, and me for following you. Pox!
Th.
I'll break all their Windows, if I can have Stones for Love, or
Money. I'll pelt their Reputations too.
[Th. goes in, and breaks Windows. Then enters, retreating from Lovely, and Polidor.]
Lo.
What Rascal breaks my Windows?
Th.
What nasty Strumpet flings Pots out o' Windows?
Lo.
How! then, Sir, I beg your pardon. I'll turn my Correction
another way, and make you some amends. Ho there! a Light.
Th.
No matter for a Light, we are not proud of our Persons.
Sir Joh.
We'll ha' no Light—Pox.
Enter Mrs. Lovely, Cecilia, Camilla, Lionell, and Servants with Lights.
Lo.
Who's this? Tom. Thorneback?
Th.
I was Tom. Thorneback. I don't know what I am now; a
Pickleherring, I think. I'de be loath to meet with a hungry Dutch
Seaman.
Pol.
Who's this Gentleman?
Sir Joh.
No matter—pox!—
Pol.
Oh! 'tis Sir John Shittlecock.
Sir John!
[Aside.
Lio.
And my Squire?—
[Aside.
Ce.
Our Lovers, Lionell.
Lio.
Mum.
Lo.
Who play'd this sluttish trick with these Gentlemen?
Th.
Your sluttish Maid there, Lionell.
Lio.
Who, I? This Lady's my Witness, 'twas not I.
Cam.
No, Mrs. Lionell was with me, when the Water was flung out
o' the Window; we heard it, when it went.
Th.
Ha! I'm glad to hear that; I love the Fool. Who spoke to me
from the Balcony? not the Devil, sure! he deals in Fire, not in Water.
—
[Aside.]
Some in your House have a vile infirmity, they cannot
hold their water. Pray let 'em send it to Doctors, not to Gentlemen.
Lo.
Gentlemen, I'll enquire into this Matter, and if I find the Guilty
Person, you shall have satisfaction.
Mrs. Lo.
I am the guilty Person. I was in the Balcony, and heard Men
calling to my Maids, to entice 'em out. I must not have my Maids
ruin'd, and my House dishonour'd. So to keep my young Fruit from
being spoil'd, I strove to wash away Caterpillars; I'm sorry that Name,
Gentlemen, shou'd belong to you.
Lo.
Nay, Gentlemen, if you be Lovers, you must be willing to swim
through a Hellespont.—
Th.
Of Essence of Slut? The Devil shall have my Mistress first.
Mrs. Lo.
'Twas clean Water, I'll assure you, Gentlemen; and I hope
has quench'd your unlawful Flames.
Lo.
I'm sorry for your Misfortune, Gentlemen. Good night to
you.
[Ex. Lo. Mrs. Lo. Pol. Cam.]
Lio.
Squire! Squire!
Ce.
Sir John! Sir John!
Sir Joh.
Who? Madam Sistly?
Th.
Mrs. Lionell.
Lio.
You betray'd all to my Lady. She talk'd with you in the Balcony.
Th.
Thy Lady envies thy Intrigue with me; and is enrag'd because I
won't Court her. She might ha' sent me a better Billet Doux. I am
mollified: I will go home, and be dulcified; and then give thee another
visit, out o' malice to her.
[Ex.
Lio.
Do, dear Squire.
[Ex.
Ce.
Oh! You pitiful Man; Court Servants? And kiss Servants?
Sir Joh.
Has Mrs. Lionell told you then? A blabbing, bragging Hussy!
Ce.
She does not brag, she's not so proud of you. She laughs at you,
and throws you off for Mr. Thorneback; and will I accept a Chamber-Maids
cast Love? No such matter. When you Courted my Sister,
I cryed my Eyes out; (like a Fool as I was.) For she's a Gentlewoman,
and a Gentleman may be in Love with a Gentlewoman; but now
I despise you. And well I may, every body does so. Lionell says you
are silly; and my Sister says, you are silly and ugly too.
Does she so? Gad, wou'd she were a Man.
Ce.
Well, for my part, I begin to be of her mind; I don't like you
now.
[Exit.
Sir Jo.
Gad! I'll kill my self.—I'll see her hang'd first. I am ugly
it seems. They lye against their own Consciences, they don't think it. I
can forgive any thing rather than that. I value nothing like handsomeness.
I don't envy the greatest Wit, or Souldier, or Prince in the
World, if he ben't handsome. And Gad I'll be handsome, or it shall
cost me five hundred Pounds. I know some young Fellows that have
rare Washes, and Paint and Paste, to put on their Faces a nights, that
make 'em look as fair as any Waxen Babies. I'll go and get some o'
their Paste to night, and some o' their Washes to Morrow, and make
Mistress Sistly ready to die for me; and then I'll marry a Kitchen
Wench.
[Exeunt.
SCENE, a Room.
Enter Mrs. Lovely and Camilla.
Mrs. Lo.
Oh! Madam! I'm sincerely sorrowful:
From this sad hour, I'll change my course of life;
Throw off my Vanities and vain Society,
And get acquainted with some good Divine.
Cam.
Pray have a care it ben't a young Divine:
For some o' them are very dangerous Men.
Mrs. Lo.
No, I'll seek out some ancient grave Divines.
Cam.
They will not care to be acquainted with you,
Unless you have an interest at Court.
Get an acquaintance, Madam, with Religion.
Mrs. Lo.
Madam, I will: Oh! Dear! here comes my Husband.
I am as fearful of him, as a Criminal
Is of a Judge; when ever he is with me,
Methinks 'tis Sessions time, and I in a trying.
And I am forc'd to fawn most shamefully.
Never was Woman humbled as I am.
Cam.
Oh! Madam! Madam! you have been too humble.
Enter Lovely and Polidor.
Mrs. Lo.
My Dear! my Dear! give me a thousand Kisses.
Lo.
A thousand Kisses! that's as if a Beggar
Shou'd ask a thousand Guiney's. Is the Art
Of Kissing fail'd? that Kisses are so cheap?
A Grecian Courtesan once gave a Youth
Two Talents for a Kiss; now I believe
The Modern Kisses equal the Antique.
Away, you Wretch.
[Aside to Pol.
Pol.
I am more innocent
[Aside to Cam.
Than you believe.
Cam.
Sir, I know what you are.
Lo.
Look, look, Camilla cannot suffer Polidor.
That Handsom fellow has no luck with Women.
Mrs. Lo.
Who can be minded, Dear, when you are by?
Lo.
So! How you flatter?
Mrs. Lo.
Who can flatter thee?
Speak things too fine, of one so superfine
As thou art?
Lo.
Superfine! Pox! thou hast borrowed
That Flattery out of a Pack of Cards.
Card-makers give their Cards that Complement.
What dost thou take me for a Knave o' Diamonds?
Mrs. Lo.
I cannot tell thee the fine things I think of thee.
Madam Camilla, look on Mr. Lovely.
Pray Madam has he not a fine turn'd mouth?
Cam.
Madam, I never mind Gentlemens mouths:
They may turn East, West, North or South, for me.
[Lovely goes to Polidor, and talks aside with him.
Lo.
She's sharp. Heark, Polidor, thou'rt very unlucky.
Thou canst not get my Wife; but, o' my Conscience,
I've got thy beautiful Camilla from thee.
She is uneasie under thy addresses,
But she's displea'd with me for not addressing.
She wou'd not own I had a well turn'd mouth,
Because it was not turn'd to her in flattery.
Now that is a wrong way of making Love,
For it makes Women love themselves, not us,
Makes us their Conquest: I wou'd make them mine,
By shewing my Perfections, and not theirs.
My way of making love, is taking care
That all my looks and motions have a charm.
Pol.
So, then you kill in silence, like White-powder.
Lo.
You may talk what you will of Wit and Courtship,
A Graceful Body is the dead-weight in Love.
A Lady once had a great passion for me,
Before she saw my face.
Pol.
Report had charm'd her.
Lo.
Report! She fell in love with my Back-side.
She took me in pieces as I walk'd before her;
And read a Lecture upon every part o' me,
Upon my Shoulders, on my Legs, my Calves:
Some fine forehanded Beaus are ill behind.
I'm well both ways.
Pol.
D'ye ne're make Love in words?
Yes, but I put on Love with negligence.
Give it a manly air, which awes the Women.
Now you make love with passion and formality;
E'gad, thou may'st as well make Love in Buckram
I bear down Womens hearts by over-topping 'em,
So the least favour from me seems a Miracle.
Now I will strangely charm your Saint Camilla,
I will present her with a Puppy-dog.
Madam, I thought of you, the other day,
A charming Female Grey-hound, with fine Limbs,
Small as a Spiders, you may thread a Needle with 'em,
(Belonging to a Lady of my acquaintance)
Is brought to Bed of Puppies, and all Beaus.
I humbly beg'd the honour of a Puppy,
Intending to present you with it, Madam.
Cam.
Oh! Sir, your Servant.
Lo.
To confess the truth,
I bought it with the promise of a Song.
I'll make the Song, and then send for the Puppy.
[Exit.
Cam.
Oh, Madam, I am in your Husband's favour.
Mrs. Lo.
Oh! I am troubled for my Husband's folly.
[Aside.
I wou'd feign love him, and he will not let me.
Cam.
Well, Madam, I'll accept your Husband's Present.
I will step home only for half an hour,
And then return.
Mrs. Lo.
Madam, your humble Servant.
Cam.
Now will I watch these two.
[She hides between the Scenes.
Pol.
My Dear! my Dear!
Cam.
So, he is at his wickedness again.
Pol.
I've so long fasted from those luscious Lips,
I'm eager to devour thee—Come away,
I'll play the Tyger with thee.
Mrs. Lo.
No, I've done
With these base things.
Pol.
Done: Y'ave but just begun.
You are but enter'd in this Dancing-School;
You have not yet gone over half your Dances.
Mrs. Lo.
Out, out upon you; you have made me hate
You, and my self; I cannot shew my face.
Pol.
I'le cover it with mine.
Mrs. Lo.
You shall not, Sir.
Pol.
I care not what you say: I have no ears for you:
But I have Eyes, and Lips, and Arms for you.
Mrs. Lo.
I find you have no Ears for Conscience.
Pol.
P'shaw! Conscience; do not talk to me of Conscience.
If this be very bad, Heaven help the Fair;
They are all tempted, and 'tis odds they fall.
But they that have the Devil in their faces?
Mrs. Lo.
I'd rather have the Devil in my face,
Than in my heart, as you have.
Pol.
I perceive
Your Saint Camilla has been spoiling you.
Mrs. Lo.
She has been mending me, but cannot make me
So excellent a Woman as her self.
Pol.
She is no Woman, she is a Church-Monument,
A Picture of Virginity in Marble.
Mrs. Lo.
She is a Cherubim in flesh and blood.
Pol.
She's not all flesh, sh'as kept so many Lents
Till she's a Fish.
Cam.
Oh brave!
[Aside.
Pol.
A very Mermaid.
And, Mermaid-like, brings tempests where she comes.
In short, don't strive with me, you shall not go;
You cannot go.—Y've not the heart to do't.—
I'll venture you.—Gad, but I wo' not though,
Now I consider on't—I don't know what
The Devil may put into your head—Along—
Mrs. Lo.
Release me, or I swear I will call out.
Pol.
You wo' not do't—Nay more, you cannot do't.
Mrs. Lo.
D'ye think I am so fond? Who's there? who's there?
Pol.
Who's there? who's there? (Mimiques her) you squeak
So like a Mouse,—the Cats will catch you; come out o' their way.
Mrs. Lo.
What ailes me that I cannot strive with him?
[Aside.
[As he is pulling her Camilla enters.
Cam.
So Madam! I'm return'd again.
Pol.
Undone!
[Aside.
Your Servant, Madam.
Cam.
Why d'ye speak to me?
I am a Fish.
Pol.
Oh! Madam if you were,
I shou'd be glad to be a Fishmonger.
Cam.
His Falshood wounds me deeply—but I scorn
To let him see it; I will seem to slight it.
[Aside.
Your Servant, Sir,—Pray Sir, how does your Brother?
Pol.
My Brother, Madam!
Cam.
Yes, the Gentleman
Who did me th'honour to address to me?
Your Faces are so like you may be Twins,
But in all other things you are so different,
I'm sorry for it; you very much disgrace him.
Pol.
Pardon me, Madam; I've many Brethren, but they're all like me,
Poor sinful Mortals; We are Sons of Adam,
If there be any perfect man amongst us,
His Mother shou'd be question'd how she had him;
For he was not begotten by a Man;
And therefore he disparages his House.
Cam.
You think the same, no doubt, of all the Sisters?
Pol.
No, Madam:—What Purgation do I suffer?
[Aside.
Mrs. Lo.
No, Sir; the worst of us, and I am one,
Are not by Nature so corrupt as Men.
If we be bad, their Arts have made us so.
The high Professions which you made of Vertue
And Honour ruin'd me; if I had known you
I wou'd have shunn'd you, I abhor leud men.
Pol.
Madam, I know you do.
Cam.
I'll Witness for her,
She is not easily drawn to wickedness.
I saw and heard, how she resisted you.
Such a design no doubt you had on me,
Therefore I will avoid you like the Devil.
Mrs. Lo.
And so will I: Pray, Sir, come here no more.
Cam.
Never speak to me again.
Mrs. Lo.
No, nor to me.
Pol.
So! so! my Love is in a fine condition.
This 'tis to have two Mistresses at once.
'Tis sailing in a Vessel with two Keels;
Two Holds will never joyn well, 'tis odds they split.
And such a risque why shou'd a Merchant run?
For where's the Man has Freight enough for one?
[Ex.
Cam.
Now, Madam, I will take my leave of you.
Mrs. Lo.
Shall I wait on you, Madam?
Cam.
By no means.
Well, Madam, I have hope, in little time,
To see you fam'd for Piety, and Goodness.
A Limb by being broke gets strength, they say,
If set with Art; so broken Vertue may.
[Ex.
Mrs. Lo.
Ah! wou'd to Heaven I did not need th'Experiment.
Enter Lionell.
Lio.
I thought I heard my Lady in some sorrow.
[Aside.
Mrs. Lo.
Begone.
Lio.
Begone? I wo'not be so snap'd.
Mrs. Lo.
You won't, Hussy?
Lio.
I won't be Hussyed neither.
Mrs. Lo.
Is't possible? Why Mistress, what are you?
Lio.
Madam, I'm vertuous; I wou'd you were so.
I know what you have done with Mr. Polidor.
Ay, Madam, and my Master shall know too.
Oh! mercy on me! this is worst of all.
[Aside
Come back, come back, upon your life I charge you.
What do you know?
Lio.
She'l kill me— Aside
—Nothing—Nothing—Madam.
I am a Prating Fool, a sawcy Gossip.
Your Ladyship is a modest vertuous Lady.
I only saw a rude Bear of a Fellow,
That wou'd ha' mumbled you, if you'd ha' let him;
But you behav'd your self as handsomly
As e're I saw a Lady, in your circumstances;
Till the base Man at length o're-master'd you.
Mrs. Lo.
I'm an undone, lost Woman: Heaven and Grace
Abandon'd me, and now my Honour's gone.
Begone, and use me as ill as I deserve.
Lio.
I use you ill, dear Madam! Heaven forbid.
Though you have been very severe to me,
I have had always a great Love for you.
And now I'm very sorry for your Circumstances.
How came your Ladyship to do this thing?
Mrs. Lo.
Oh! ask no Questions, bury the foul Story.
Lio.
Indeed I wonder how he work'd upon you;
For, Madam, you are vertuous in your nature.
But any one may be o're-taken once.
Well, Madam, I'll be faithful to your Ladyship.
Mrs. Lo.
Then I'll be kind to thee; preserve my Honour,
And, if thou wo't, take all my other Jewels.
Lio.
These Tears are Jewels, and become you sweetly.
Well, there's a rich old Spark comes after me,
And I believe designing scurvy matters;
But he shall find I am a vertuous Maid.
What e're he thinks, I'm only kind to him,
To try if I can fool him into Marriage.
And, Madam, won't you lend a helping hand?
Mrs. Lo.
My Hand! my Purse! I'll give thee a good Fortune.
Lio.
Thank you, good Madam.
[Enter a Servant.
Ser.
Mrs. Lionell,
Here is a Gentleman wou'd speak with you.
[Exit.
Lio.
Oh! I believe 'tis my old fusty Spark.
[Exit.
Mrs. Lo.
So, I'm become a Vassal to my Servant.
Farewell intriguing, and come happy vertue,
There's no true peace, or pleasure but in thee.
I'll break with Polidor, but do't (if possible)
So gently, that the breach may make no noise.
Enter Lionell.
Lio.
Oh! Madam! my Lover, Squire Thornback, is come
To see me; and my Room is full o' Company.
I don't know where to put him; Pray will you lock
Him up in your Closet.
So, I have got an Honourable Function.
[Aside.
Lio.
Squire! Squire! come hither, Squire!
[Enter Thornback.
Here, Madam; Lock him up a while; I'll do as much for you.
Stay there, Squire; I'll come to you presently.
[Exit.
Mrs. Lo.
I must obey; Go in, Mr. Thornback.
Th.
How, Madam? Lock me up in your Closet? Love
And Murder will out.
Mrs. Lo.
What! thou wo't be a Lover and a Beau again?
Wo't chuse the only part thou art not fit for?
Th.
Now she is at her tricks again.
Mrs. Lo.
Thou seem'st made for a Souldier; go to the Wars,
There thou may'st get Honour; and if thou should'st
Lose thy Nose, or a Jaw; thou'dst be as much
A Beau, as thou art now.
Th.
Gad—I cou'd beat her.
[Aside.
Mrs. Lo.
If thou should'st lose a Jaw, thou might'st have one from an
Ass, as good as thy own; and if thy Nose, a Goldsmith wou'd make
thee a better, and as natural to thee as thy Complexion; for that's none
of thy own; thou art Painted.
Th.
Painted!
Mrs. Lo.
Yes, Painted.
Th.
Gad, so I am; and well Painted too, howe're she comes to
know it.
[Aside.
Mrs. Lo.
Let my Handkerchief examine thy Face, if thou dar'st.
Th.
Gad, I dare not.
[Aside.]
Come, Madam, this seeming Aversion
of yours is Art and Paint: wou'd you lock me up in your Closet, if
you did not reckon me among your Sweet-meats?
Mrs. Lo.
Sweet-meats!
Th.
Yes, Madam; I don't think you e're laid up Conserve o' Roses
for your Maid, and Conserve o' Man is more luscious.
Mrs. Lo.
A Man! thou art rather a great Mandrake. I have read of
a Wife who gave Mandrakes for a Man, never of any that gave a Man
for a Mandrake; as I shou'd do, shou'd I quit my Husband for thee.
Th.
What a preposterous thing is a Woman? Every thing moves forward
to what it desires, but a Woman and a Crab, and they run backwards.
Madam, you will make me renounce you.
Mrs. Lo.
Prithee do—Ha! I see Polidor!
[Aside.
Get you in quick! quick!—
Th.
Oh! are you complying?—
[She puts him in.]
[Enter Polidor.
Pol.
How, Madam! put a Man into your Closet?
M. Lo.
So, now he'l rave, and in revenge dishonour me. [Aside.]
A man!
Pol.
A Man—I saw you put him there.
Mrs. Lo.
Well, make no noise—there is a Reason for it.
Pol.
Must you conceal him? Well, I'll do't effectually.
I'll render him eternally invisible,
If possible; I'll mangle him into Atoms.
Away.
Pol.
Stand back! I'll see what you ha' got,
Whether it be a Flower or a Weed,
Which you are Stilling in this Limbeck here,
For I believe he's in a dropping Sweat.
Come out here.—
[He pulls in Th.
—Mr. Thorneback! Sir, your Servant.—
You are a Happy Man.
Th.
Well, so I am,—
Happier than many of you Smock-fac'd Fellows.
Girls may be Liquorish after such white Faces,
As Kitlings Love to have a lick at Cream;
But your good Mousers love—
Pol.
Vermine, like thee.
Th.
Rail at me, how thou wo't, I do not care;
But slander not this Lady; if you do,
Egad I'll cut your Wind-Pipe, if I can;
And I dare fight, you know. Madam, your Servant,—
I'll vindicate your Honour.—
[Ex.
Pol.
With thy Face,—
For that will do it better than thy Sword.
Madam! you banish'd me, but to make room
For a new Friend, it seems.
Mrs. Lo.
You do me wrong.
You have made me a Servant to my Servant:
My Reputation is at her Command,
And therefore I am forc'd to be at her's;
Be her Fool's Fool, and hide him for her use.
I do not speak this to preserve your Love,
That I cast off, but for my Honour's sake.
And therefore do not blast it with the World;
For if you do, I will have such Revenge,
That all shall startle when they hear me nam'd.
Pol.
Th'art a brave Woman: And, be true or false,
I Love thee.
[He runs to her, and embraces her.
Mrs. Lo.
Oh! thou art a tempting Man!
I never shall be good, till I am rid of thee.
Pol.
I'll never part with thee, whilst I have Life;
For though thy Heart be false, thy Beauty's true:
Though not a word of Truth comes from thy Mouth,
I'm sure there's unfeign'd sweetness in thy Lips.
I will have some employment in that Treasury.
If I cannot be Lord Commissioner,
I'll be contented with an under Office,
Only for Fees, to have one Kiss in twenty.
Mrs. Lo.
How pleasant you can be with Sin, and Shame;
A sign thou art a hardned Malefactor.
Pol.
Ben't you so wicked, when the Nation
Is setled comfortably, in Cuckolding,
To make a Schism in it; a new Distraction.
All Parties lovingly agree in Cuckolding,
Thou't be the only Member o' thy Church.
But I believe thou wilt remain a Sister
Of the Great, Universal, Primitive Church;
For Cuckolding is very Ancient.
Mrs. Lo.
Nay, nay, the Sin's so Old, 'tis time it dyed;
It shall with me, I'll harbour it no more.
I'll separate from you, we will be two.
Pol.
Ay, till we get on a soft Bed again,
There we'll again sink sweetly into one.
Mrs. Lo.
No—I've some Conscience still, what e're you think.
Pol.
Ay, and some warm desires, what e're you think;
You are fearful of your Honour; have no fear,
I'll be as careful of it, as my Life.
Our private meetings shall be known to none.
Mrs. Lo.
What! Not to me?
Pol.
Yes, you'll know something of 'em.
Mrs. Lo.
Well, that will be enough to make me wretched:
No, we will never be thus close again.
Except in Death; one Grave may lodge us both.
I shall desire to sleep with thee in Dust.
Pol.
Then I shall be a scurvy Bedfellow.
Mrs. Lo.
Till then I am resolv'd to part with thee.
[She goes from him.
Pol.
And can you do it?
Mrs. Lo.
You will part with me,
When you have sated your ill Appetite;
Perhaps before; shou'd a Disease drink up
This little Beauty, you wou'd vanish too.
Pol.
It may be so; but prethee, let me have
Thy Body, till thy Beautious Face departs.
Mrs. Lo.
No; I've given up my Fort; but I will march
Honourably away, with Arms, and flying Colours.
And so, sweet Polidor, farewell for ever.
Be not displeas'd; I leave thee for no Rivals
But Vertue, Conscience, Honour, things Divine,
Which I to Night lost only by surprize;
And nothing else out-shines thee in my Eyes.
[Ex.
Pol.
She is a false, dissembling, artful Jilt;
Proud to excess; some Man o' Quality
Has got her from me, Thorneback was the Bawd;
Now she wou'd blind my Eyes with flattery,
And a pretence to Conscience,
The common Covering for all kind of Cheats.
I did not start; nor will it end with me.
To recompence the wrong I've done my Friend,
I'll free him from so dangerous a Wife.
Enter Lovely.
Lo.
The Lady gone, before she has her Puppy?—
Dear Polidor! I will be free with thee—
W'ave swom down far in Night; methinks I scent
The Coast of sleep, a Vapor comes that way.
I think w'are on the borders of the Morning.
Go home and sleep, if Envy will permit thee;
For I will play the Epicure to Night.
My Wife and I will be exceeding wanton.
I'll have ten Tapers burning o're my Pillow,
To give us both full sight of all our Features.
My Luxury will consist in Curiosity.
My Eyes shall wander o're her Face to spy
If, when I kiss her, she's entranc'd with joy.
Pol.
Lovely, I'll shew I am more fond of thee
Than of my self; for, to be true to thee
I will betray my self, unman my self.
For he, who when a Beauteous Lady favours him,
Rejects her Love, and treacherously informs,
Does not deserve to be esteem'd a Man.
But I have first sworn Loyalty to thee,
Therefore I can with less reluctancy,
Throw off Allegiance to thy Charming Lady,
And own she is not what she ought to be.
Lo.
I am the Miserablest Man on Earth:
I will first Murder her, and then my self.
Pol.
How, Murder her! You shall first Murder me.
I've suffer'd you to make me more a Villain,
Than e're I thought there cou'd be stuff found in me
For that base work; and shall I let you make me
A Murderer too? For if you take her Life
For what I've told, I'm Guilty of her Blood.
And will I be your vile eternal tool,
And joyn in Sacrificing such a Goddess
To such a Beast as thou? I'll rather Victim
A Hecatomb of such as thou to her.
Lo.
Well, I will suffer these provoking Words,
Because I've given too much occasion for 'em.
I had a hand too, in corrupting her.
Shou'd I Chastise you both, for bringing forth
The Monsters, which I help'd to generate,
I spare you both, in reverence to my self,
But I will never see her Face again.
Pol.
What have I done? Curse on all lewd Intrigues!
When we give up our Reason to our Lusts,
It is no wonder if we act like Beasts.
Oh! what a damn'd Barbarian have I been
To this too fair frail Vessel? I first plunder'd her,
Then dash'd her all in pieces on a Rock;
Because I cannot get all I desire.
But I'le endeavour to piece up the Wrack;
And then impose her on this odious Fool,
Put him aboard, then let him sink or swim.—
[Aside.
Lovely, I'de part with my right hand to Cuckold thee,
Enjoy thy Beauteous Wife, and sweet Revenge,
For the returns thou mak'st my foolish Friendship.
Lo.
Since thou hast got her Soul, I'de have thee Cuckold me
To damn her Soul.
Pol.
I take thee at thy word;
Go out, and give me opportunity
To play my Game of Love out, if thou dar'st.
Lo.
I'll not go out, but I'll pretend to do't,
And only stand conceal'd, and see my Lot;
If she be lewd, take her, I'll thank thee for't.
Pol.
As I wou'd have it.— [Aside.]
—Come, it is a Bargain.
Go, tell your Wife you go abroad.
Lo.
I will.
Pol.
And I mean-while will whisper Lionell.
[Aside.
Lo.
Shou'd Lotteries have no other Stakes than Whores,
The lucky Lots wou'd to the Losers rise,
And they be Curst, who carry off the Prize.
[Ex.
| The Married Beau : or, The Curious Impertinent | |