 | The City-Ramble : or, A Play-house Wedding |  |
ACT V.
The SCENE a Grove. Enter down from the back Scenes the Common-Council-Man and his Wife, attended by a Player.Player.
Will you please to retire to your Box?
C. C. Wife.
No, my dear, here's our Daughters Likeness
entring, let's tarry upon the Stage, and take a short View of her first.
Enter Phyllis sola.
Phyll.
Was ever such a Fool, (Heav'n bless his Worship!) as the
young Knight our Landlord; sous'd over head and ears with this wandring
Gypsy my Bedfellow! How did he fall upon his Knees to her
last night, and made a little Goddess of her; said so many fine Things
as were never heard under my poor Roof before. Such high Court
Compliments grow but thinly in our poor Country Gardens. Nay
and who could believe it? the young Gipsie herself a ten times worse
Fool than he? As shy of him, I warrant ye, as a Hen of a Kite; and
as blind, though to her own Happiness, as an Owl by Day-light.
Not the Temptation even of three soft Pillows to sleep upon, the
Mistresship of ten thousand Crowns a Year layd under her Head
a young sweet Knight in her Bosom, and a Ladyship clapt upon her
Back; the Devil a bit could all these three move her.—Nay
and would give him neither a why, nor a wherefore for all this hard
Usage, but only Stars and Fate, and Blocks and Mountains, and
Heaven knows what, that lay between 'em. In short, she gave him
so peremptory a Denyal, and sent him home to Bed so sighing and
weeping, in so doleful a Condition, that the poor Gentleman, I warrant
you, has no more closed his Eyes all this Night to think how
unmercifully she uses him, than I have closed mine, to think how
unmercifully I am going to use my self, by parting with my whole
Christian Liberty this Morning, for a Wedlock Jayl for Life.
C. C. Man.
Do you hear the young Jade? A Wedlock Jayl! Is the
Devil in these Play-Houses? that honourable Matrimony should be profan'd
at every Turn thus?
Use a Man of Honour, nay and so sweet a Person, so barbarously!
Flesh and Blood cou'd not bear it! No, when I got the
Gipsey to Bed with me, by'r Lady I fairly took her to Task,
and read her so round a Curtain-Lecture, 'till at last I brought her
to so wretched a Confession of her own Folly and Frenzy, her Fondness
for a Sot that dropt her t'other Night, that I protest I blush'd
for her.—And shall the noble Chevaleer die for such a Fool? No,
by my Troth, sha'n't he. I'll instantly to him, and lay her open to
him, as naked as she was born, 'till I make him asham'd of her.—
Nay, and if that won't cure him, I'll take pity of him, and propose
a new Mistress to him.—A new Mistress!
[Pulling out her Pocket-Glass.]
Ay—Here's a sweet—Let me see—How prettily
I look to Day!—I vow and swear I can't see what he can find
in that poor Stroller—But—I protest—I don't know but—These
Eyes and this—Lord! How sweetly a Ladyship would become
me.—Damon!—I'll have no Damons.
C. C. Man.
Won't ye so, Gipsey?
Phyll.
And then I'll—And so—Ay, ay, 'twill do—And so
pluck up a Heart, Girl.—Well, but here's the Misery, if I must
be forced to speak first—I shall redden like any scarlet Rose:—
Why,—what if I do? so much the better. I am a little too pale,
and a Blush will mend my Complexion.—A Madamship—and
a Titleship,—and a Coach and six,—and a—Damon!—
A poor Scoundrel, Damon!—No, I thank you for nothing.
Enter Damon, with an open seal'd Parchment.
Dam.
Oh sweet Rogue! the Business is done: Look here, my
little Baggage, sign'd and seal'd, Girl! Two hundred Crowns a
Year, all my own free Land.—Well, this Landlord is a noble
kind Gentleman; and so, come along. Wench.—
Phyll.
Hands off, rude Varlet! Do you know who you prate to?
Dam.
Prate, Child, prate! Why I am thy Husband, that must be.
Phyll.
My Husband! Monstrous! Sure thou hast not such a Front
of Brass.
Dam.
Hey day!—Come, prithee leave off fooling, and don't
put me in a Fright. Thou knowst I am come to marry thee.
Phyll.
Marry me!—Was ever so much Impudence?
C. C. Man.
Do you hear, Fubby?
C. C. Wife.
Ay, ay, hear, quotha!
Why certainly, Child, thy Wits are not all sustracted, to talk
at this mad rate. Am not I thy Damon? and thou my Phyllis? thy Hand
and Heart all mine: And promis'd I should marry thee this Morning?
Phyll.
Why truly, now I remember me, an idle Word might drop
from me, about some such foolish Business, to give an impertinent
Blockhead his Answer. But what dost thou see in this Face, that I
should marry such a thing as thee. Thou Animal! thou Wretch!
thou inconsiderable, little, pitiful, despicable—
C. C. Man.
I can hold no longer.
[Going up to her.
Look thee, my pretty Infidel,—
C. C. Wife.
Ay, out on thee; for shame! thou vile false Creature.
C. C. Man.
Nay, my Dear, don't give thy self this Trouble. Let me
alone to handle the Renegade.—Look thee, Miss Rambler, whereabouts
has the Gadfly slung thee, that thy Mercury is so very volatile, my pretty
High-flyer.—Nothing but a Ladyship!—Thou my Daughter's Likeness!
and have no more Grace than to play the Jezabel upon thy very
Wedding-Day. If that Baggage, my own Brat yonder, should play me
such a Prank, I'd make her whistle for her ten thousand Pound.
C. C. Wife.
Ten thousand Pound! No, by my Troth, nor ten Groats.
C. C. Man.
But for thee, fair Vanity, thou art such a wretched
piece of Frailty. Had one of our Covent-Garden Brood play'd such a
piece of Jilt-Work, it had been a little excuseable; but a mere Country
Piece of simple Innocence—
Phyll.
Nay, worthy Sir, you must consider—
C. C. Man.
I know what you wou'd say now; you'd tell me, you only
play the Part as the Poet writ it for you. Look you, that shan't serve
your Turn; the Reprobate Scriblers of this Age are such a senselss
Pack of Rogues, that they bewray their own Nests, stuff so many villainous
lewd Characters into their Plays, 'till they have almost undone
the very Stage they live by. But look you, I'll have no such playing
whilst I sit here. You have promis'd to marry this honest Damon, as
you call him; and udznigs, young Galloper, I'll tie you to your Tedder.
Here, Boy, take her, and say I give her thee: She's thy own, all thy
own, take my City Word and Honour for't. And now let me see who
dares part you.
[Joyning their Hands.
Dam.
Oh dear Sir! you are a worthy good Man, and if the wicked
Poets at this end of Town wou'd but copy from your pious Morals
in the City, we should have a glorious Stage indeed.
Ay Faith, and 'tis high time they should do so.—For look
you, Friend, if these Libertine Scriblers, and you Libertime Players too,
don't mend your Manners, and that very quickly, if I live to get a Foot
of Authority into the Government, as I hope I soon shall, I shall have
a kick at both your Theatres. Ay, ay, look to't; when that Day comes
expect a clear Stage, and from me no Favour.
Dam.
Nay, Sir, you are a little too hard upon us poor Players;
we are not all Libertines: No, here's this young Lady and my self
though I say't—
C. C. Man.
Are both Saints, I'll warrant you, if I may take your
own Word for't.
Dam.
Truly, Sir, tho' we are but poor Players, we are both honest
ones; and as I have the Happiness sometimes to play this Lady's
Lover in Jest upon the Stage, I am her humble Servant too in down-right
Earnest, and ever since we came together into the Play-House,
I have made that honourable Love to her, and met that favourable
Return from her, that at last she has condescended—
C. C. Man.
To promise thee Marriage? Ha, Boy!
Dam.
Truly, Sir, not to be vain in boasting of a young Lady's
Favours, some such Advances she has been pleas'd to make me.
C. C. Man.
Take her again, take her once more, dear Rogue. A
couple of Players, and resolve to marry and live honest!
Dam.
Verily even so, Sir.
C. C. Man.
Prithee, dear Lad, chop up this Wedlock Job of thine
the first Work thou dost, who knows but she may have a tang of the
Play-House Flesh and Blood; and so prithee run to the honest Black-Coat,
and make all safe. And when thou hast her fast, do me but the
Honour, thou and thy fair Bride, to visit me at my small Tenement in
Cheapside, and here's my Hand, before all this noble Company, my House
shall be thy home; thou shalt be as welcome as my own Heart. An honest
Brace of Players! Odsfish, Man, I thought you had all lived in
Common.
C. C. Man.
Welcome to our House! By my Faith and so they shall.
Nay, I am resolved to bring this sweet Creature acquainted with her
own dear Likeness, that Miss in a Mask yonder.
Phyll.
Oh Madam! now you'll do me too much Honour.
C. C. Wife.
No, my pretty Saint, the Honour will be of your side.
The Child of a Lady Mayoress might be proud of the Friendship of a virtuous
Actress.
Well, dear Sir, I am resolv'd to obey your Commands, and
make all possible Expedition in this Nuptial Affair, if only the
sooner to accept your honourable City Invitation, and give my sweet
Spouse and my self the Happiness of your own, and your Lady's
Friendship and Patronage; and so we humbly kiss your Hands.
[Exeunt Damon and Phyllis.
C. C. Wife.
My hearty Blessing go along with you both.
Lady
in the Balcony.
So, now the Work's finisht! Well, my pretty
Rogues, you have perform'd to a Miracle.
C. C. Wife.
Oh dear Hubby! I am so pleas'd with this innocent
Pair of Stage-Turtles—
C. C. Man.
Pleas'd to see a couple of honest Stage-Players! Ay,
Child, I am so proud on't, that I am resolved to have my Statue set
up in one of the Niches of Paul's, in Honour to my part of the Performance
in this Day's glorious Work of Reformation.—But come,
we shall be troublesome on the Stage, let's retire to our Box again.
[Exeunt into the Box.
Enter Chevaleer and Viola.
Viol.
Is there that proudest Beauty in the World
That wears her Heart her own, cou'd stand invincible?
But Oh! Hard Fate! This Heart's not-mine.—I have
Unlock'd my Soul, laid the whole Cause before you,
Why this seal'd Breast, this only Rock of Ice,
Nor all those daz'ling Honours e'er can melt.
Chev.
Undone by such a Rival! Can the Sins
He has committed, such black Crimes, such Treason
Hold this amazing Pow'r; thy Heart so poorly seal'd,
Had Truth and Vertue, some deserving Worthy,
Like Heav'n's once dread commission'd Angel,
Held the flaming Sword against me, I had born
That just Exclusion ev'n without a Murmur:
Resign'd to Fate, and only sigh'd and dy'd.
But when a Cloven-footed Guardian bars
The Gate to this fair Paradise, think what Agonies
My tortur'd Soul must bear.
Viol.
Let not the Weakness
Of this poor Heart so lost give you this Torment.
No, let it move your Pity.
Chev.
Ev'n that Pity
Doubles the Pangs I feel. Did I not love thee,
Would give a Stab through every generous Breast
To see a Creature so divinely Fair
Wear such inglorious Chains, enslaved to a Miscreant,
A Wretch below Contempt—Oh no, resume
Thy Beauty and thy Sexes just Prerogative:
For thy own sake, knock off these shameful Fetters.
What Tie can bind thy Faith to such an Infidel!
Viol.
Alas, Sir, the Eternal Dispensations
Are unaccountable. Ev'n to this bad Man
My Destiny, irrevocable Destiny
Has bound my Love with such a fatal Gordian
That nought but Death can break.
Chev.
Oh, do not name
Those sacred Pow'rs! Can the all-righteous Heav'n
Be th'Author of Injustice thus to load
The most deserving Work of their Creation
With these unequal Sufferings!
Viol.
Injustice!
Ah no; we are all the Work of absolute Will:
All moulded as th'Eternal Mind thinks fit.
Desert not always shares the worldly Portion:
And mortal Lots must not dispute Omnipotence.
Our Nature, Beings, nay, our very Passions
With their whole Train of Miseries, are all
Immutable Decree: And such are mine,
When to such Love and such inviting Glories
I can make no Return; lost to your Hopes,
Lost to my self, and lost to all the World:
This is my Doom, and ne'er to be repeal'd.
Chev.
My Doom's no more to be repeal'd than thine.—
But, oh, thou killing Fair, there's something breathes
So fragrant in this tender Voice thou utter'st,
As sweetens ev'n the very Death thou givest me!
Viol.
Oh do not name your Death! No, let me take
This Face of Ruin from your sight for ever.
Chev.
For ever! That's too dismal.
Viol.
Yes, Sir, let me
Retire, and try what Balm the Infinite Mercy
Will pour to heal your Pains; when the unhappy
Disturber of your Rest is seen no more.
Know'st thou what 'tis thou ask'st me!
Viol.
What I'll ask
Th'all-pitying Heav'n to grant, the Restoration
Of your calm'd Soul's soft Peace.
Chev.
Alas, that Prayer
Comes now too late. But if thy Cruelty
Has fix'd the dire Decree to take thee from me,
Say not for ever. No, be kind and promise me
That I shall see those Eyes once more.
Viol.
I promise you.
Chev.
But when!
Viol.
When e'er you please to call, I'll bring 'em forth
All drown'd in Tears to mourn your Fate and mine.
Chev.
Go then, thou gentlest of the fair Destroyers:
But to return once more, return to give me
The darling View of those bright Lights that charm
Ev'n in their Work of Death. That beauteous Image
The very Heart it strikes with Pleasure fills:
The Ligtning glitters whilst the Thunder kills.
[Exeunt severally.
Enter Rinaldo and Valerio.
Val.
“This is the Place. Here did I leave the Maid
“Alone last Night, drying her tender Eyes,
“Uncertain what to do, and yet desirous
“To have me gone.
Rinald.
“How rude are all we Men,
“That take the name of Civil to our selves!
“If she had set her Foot upon an Earth
“Where People live that Men call Barbarous:
“Though they had had no House to bring her to,
“They would have spoil'd the Glory that the Spring
“Has deck'd the Trees in, and with willing Hands
“Have torn their Branches down, and every Man
“Would have become a Builder for her sake.
“What time left you her here?
Val.
“I left her when the Sun had so much to set
“As he is now got from his Place of Rise.
Rinald.
“So near the Night, she could not wander far.
Val.
“Without all Question, Sir, she sought a House.
Enter Viola with two Rustick Maids.
Viol.
When I have paid him my last promis'd Visit,
I'll fly as far as travell'd Worlds can carry me
Val.
“That last is she, 'tis she.
Rinald.
“Let us away,
“We shall infect her. Let her have the Wind,
“And we will kneel down here.
Viol.
“I know that Voice and Face.
Val.
So, now you are safe together, Heav'n and Love
Protect you, so farewel.
[Exit.
1. Rust. Maid.
“Udz body, Nan, help, she's in a Swoon!
2. Rust. Maid.
“An' you be a Man, come hither and help a Woman.
Rinald.
“Come hither! 'Twas my being now so near
“That made her swoon. Alas, my venom'd Eyes
“Strike Innocency dead!
1. Rust. Maid.
“How dost thou!
Viol.
“Why—well.
2. Rust. Maid.
“Art thou able to go?
Viol.
“No, pray you go, and leave me here alone,
“Till you come back.
1. Rust. Maid.
“Leave you with that strange Man!
Viol.
“I know him well, I'll warrant thee, he'll ne'er hurt me.
2. Rust. Maid.
Leave her! No, by my Troth, my Landlord's Darling
must not be so slighted.
1. Rust. Maid.
No, let's steal behind this Bush, and hear what
that kneeling Fool has to say to her.
[Exeunt Maids within the Scenes.
Rinald.
“How does that beauteous wrong'd one! Be not fearful,
“I'll hold my Hands before my Mouth, and speak:
“My Breath shall never blast you.
Viol.
“'Twas enough
“To use me ill, not mock me: Kneel to me,
A poor lost Creature so despis'd as I have been!
Rinald.
Alas, I kneel, and at this awful distance
Kneel like the Criminal at the Bar of Death
With all my Train of conscious Horrors round me;
Lower than Earth, and ev'n beneath my Grave
To this offended Fair
Viol.
“Nay, fie, Rinaldo!
“You own you did the Fault, yet scorn to come
“So far as hither to ask Pardon for it.
Rinald.
“Alas, how dare my Crimes approach so near thee,
“Unworthy as I am! No, to atone my Treasons,
“Bid me search out Things next to impossible,
Command me Labours like an angry Juno;
And when the Expiation-task's perform'd,
Viol.
“I will set no Penance
“To gain the great Forgiveness you desire,
“But to come hither, and take me, and it.
“Or wou'd you have me come and beg of you
“That you wou'd be content to be forgiven.
Rinald.
“Nay, I will come, since that sweet Breath of Mercy
“Commands me. Though a Breaker of my Faith,
“A loathsome Drunkard, and in that wild Fury
“A roving Libertine, I do beseech you
“To pardon all these Faults, and take me up
“An honest, temperate, and a faithful Man.
Viol.
“For Heav'n's sake urge your Faults no more, but mend.
“All the Forgiveness I can make you, is
“To love you, which I will do, and desire
“Nothing but Love again; which if I have not,
“Yet I will love you still,
Rinald.
“Oh, Women! that some one of you will take
“An everlasting Pen into your Hands
“And 'grave in Paper, which the Writ shall make
“More lasting than the Marble Monuments,
“Your matchless Vertues to Posterities,
“Which the envious Race of Man strive to conceal.
Viol.
“Methinks I would not now for any thing
“But you had miss'd me. I have made a Story
“Will serve to waste many a Winter's Fire
“When we are old. I'll tell my Daughters then
“The Miseries their Mother had in Love,
“And say, my Girls be wiser. Yet I would not
“Have had more Wit my self.
Rinald.
What Musick does Love breathe!
Viol.
Ay, now, 'tis Musick.
But one Day more had untun'd all these Joys:
I had been fled to some more distant Sanctuary,
To Wilds and Deserts, from this fatal Ground.
Rinald.
This fatal Ground! I hope those beauteous Eyes
Have Litt' no more unhallow'd Fires to fright thee.
Viol.
Yes, these hard-fated Eyes have given a second
Struck with an honourable Dart, the Lord
Of these fair Groves, all sighing, weeping, dying,
Has laid a bleeding Heart beneath my Feet.
Rinald.
The Noble Youth Don Garcia! Stood my Viola's
Unshaken Love, the Charms of such a Rival!
Such Youth, such Honour, Vertue, Innocence,
Nay, and the Lord of all that shining Fortune
Ev'n more than doubly mine; and all for worthless me!
Viol.
Fie, my Rinaldo, now you make me blush for you,
Ev'n but to start so poor a Thought as this!
Can courting Millions buy my Heart from thee?
Rinald.
Still more divinely good.
Enter two Rustick Maids peeping.
1 Rust. Maid.
Ay, ay, all's out. No wonder our poor Master
has been so us'd. But come along, Wench, we'll to him immediately,
and he shall have it all through both Ears.
Rinald.
New Wonders strike my Eyes! See my dear Carlo
And his fair Lucia.
Enter Carlo and Lucia.
Carlo.
My most honour'd Brother
And his sweet Viola.
Viol.
Must I not call this fair one Sister?
Luc.
Blest with that Title, to meet these dear Embraces.
[The Ladies salute.
Rinald.
Yes I have found
The most wrong'd Fair, found her all Mercy too,
For she has forgiven me—After the long Ordeal
The burning Irons I have past o'er to seek her,
Her Guardian Angels have been kind at last,
And strew'd my way with Roses to these Arms.
Carlo.
The same propitious Pow'rs have bless'd me too,
For the fair Lucia's mine. But the whole Stratagem
That broke her Jail, and why this distant Journey
For our safe Nuptial Knot, will be a Tale too long
For the first Transports of this happy Meeting.
Look, look, my Carlo, see my Father yonder.
Carlo.
Ha, thy Father!
Luc.
Just lighted from his Horse. and moving this way.
Carlo.
How shall I meet him!
Luc.
As we ought to meet him,
With all the Courage of two happy Lovers;
Put forward a good Face, and tell him all.
His Pardon we must ask, and he must give it us,
And a good Deed the sooner done the better.
Enter Don Garcia.
D. Garc.
Thus far my Grief has wander'd: And if possible
I cou'd ev'n wander from my self. I scarce
Cou'd have believed this Tragick Vision, had not
My Ghostly Guide confirm'd it—There have been
Self-murders, and the Guilt of perjur'd Love
Has pull'd down greater Vengeance—My lost Daughter!—
Lucia and Carlo! Bless my Eyes!—
Carlo.
Be frighted
At Shadows, Sir, no more. We are Flesh and Blood,
Your living Son and Daughter.
Luc.
Begging your Pardon
For all the Frauds, and every little Artifice
Love only cou'd commit, and Love forgive,
We must deceive no more. My Carlo's Murder
Was all but Masquerade; and the same Shoulders
That brought that Load of Death into your House
Bore out your living Lucia; and my Carlo
Rigg'd out a harmless Goblin from my Closet
To break his Mistress's enchanted Castle;
My dear Knight-Errant, by the Laws of Chivalry,
Has fairly won me, and as fairly married me.
D. Garc.
By all the Pains thou hast given me, and by all
My Hopes of Joys that thou wilt give me, take her,
Thou dear Deceiver, take her. With this Hand
And Heart I give her thee.
Luc.
As I promis'd I'd ne'er wed before your leave first granted,
I hope I had that Grant when you so kindly
D. Garc.
Well, well, my pretty Juggler, that imperfect
Consent then given is now compleatly seal'd.—
My Carlo's worthy Brother, and his Fair one!
Thou hast a Father too, perhaps thou think'st
An angry one. No, hush that Fear, sweet Viola:
I left him in my Tears, and the same Convert,
Breathing a thousand Pray'rs for thy Recovery,
And wishing thee in thy Rinaldo's Arms.
Viol.
Our Joys are now compleat. Crown but this Blessing
With the poor Garcia's Peace restord—But see, he's here.
Enter Chevalier in Mourning.
Chev.
I come to challenge thy kind Act of Grace.
But one last Look!—oh, thou too happy Rival!
I must not say an envied one. Ah, no,
I come a galless Turtle to this Fair one
To moan my Fate, but not to murmur at it.
Viol.
Oh, why these Sable Weeds!
Chev.
Mistaken Sweetness,
Call 'em not Weeds: These are my Nuptial Robes:
I have chose me a new Love.
Viol.
Oh, say that Word again.
Chev.
Chose—an embracing Heav'n, resolv'd at once
To bid vain Hopes and vainer Worlds adieu.
Viol.
What means this Language! Oh my trembling Fears!
Chev.
Only retiring t'a Religious Cell
To a long hard Bed of Rest.
Viol.
Oh do not name
This barbarous Resolve!
Chev.
Nay, fie, sweet Viola!
The Wound thou hast given me nought but Heav'n can cure.
And can'st thou be so cruel as to chide me
Only for chusing me my best Physician.
Viol.
No, dear Sir, Trust Heav'n's Medicinal Mercy
To find a gentler Cure. Wait the blest Hour
When from your Eyes this worthless Image vanish'd,
Your Peace shall be restor'd.
Retire t'a Convent, quit Mankind, and leave
The too sad World a Mourner for the Loss
Of such bright Hopes.
Viol.
Nay, leave this more sad Heart
With ever bleeding Pains shut out from Life by me.
Chev.
And will it pain thee to behold me quit
This Earthly Dross for more Immortal Joys!
Think not I go to be lock'd up in Solitude:
The World's my only Jail, and a bless'd Cell
All shining Liberty; there I shall set
A wide Eternity before my Eyes.
There I shall study to forget all Sorrow;
There learn to bless a Rival, court high Heav'n
To crown your endless Joys—
But stay, before this sacred Task's perform'd
I have one Grace to beg of thee.
Rinald.
Of me!
Chev.
Alas, I want no Pomp, Plumes, Wealth nor Honours
To furnish a poor Cell, and therefore must
Intreat this Favour, that I may divide
The Worldly Lumber that I leave behind me
Betwixt my Cousin Lucia, and thy Viola.
Rinald.
Oh my Confusion! Have I robb'd thy Love
Of all this Earth held dear to thee, and now
To play that Spoiler, rifle thy fair Fortunes!
Chev.
Oh, as thou valuest my eternal Peace
I must have no Denial. Thy Acceptance
Of this small Tribute laid at those dear Feet
Is all I have on this side Heav'n to ask.
Carlo.
Oh, how shall we divide our equal Duty
Betwixt our grateful Knees and melting Eyes!
Those to acknowledge thy unequall'd Goodness,
And these to mourn thy more unequall'd Sufferings.
Chev.
No more of that harsh Subject—Now, sweet Viola,
Lend me thy Hand for one cold parting Kiss.
[Kisses her Hand
Here, bless'd Rinaldo, take thy beauteous Bride!
[Joins their Hands
Thou to that Heav'n below, and I to mine above.
Viol.
Oh, Sweet lost Youth! my watry Pillow spread
With those sad Rites our Nuptial Gordian tyed,
Ev'n to these Arms thou send'st a Mourning Bride.
Rinald.
Thy pityed Sufferings so mourn'd so felt
That ev'n the Eyes of a crown'd Rival melt.
Chev.
Nay, now my Sighs will be all over-paid.
Go then, blest Pair, so blest! May you in Love's
Rich Bed of Sweets find all that soft Repose.
More Joys of Life than all I go to lose.
[Exit.
Rinald.
Oh Love! What various Trophies does thy Field
Like the uncertain Lot of Battle yield.
The Happy all victorious are decree'd
For Wreaths of Laurel, whilst th'Unhappy bleed.
A Player speaks to the Common Council Man.
Player.
Well, Sir, how do you like our Play?
C. C. Man.
I'll come and talk with you.
[Exit with his Wife from the Box to the Stage.
Player.
Does it come up to your City-Standart of Morality? Wou'd
it pass Muster before a Court of Common-Council?
C. C. Man.
Why truly, Friend, very hardly. I confess indeed
here's your Lucia and your Viola, as you call 'em, a Brace of innocent
young Fondlings, and the Poet honestly marries 'em at last.
But still here's a Tang of Rebellion sow'rs all: They are a couple
of scandalous Runaways from their honourable Fathers and Guardians.
Well, I defy my Jenny from playing me any such slippery Trick, I thank
Heaven, I have ten thousand Pound Bail of hers in my Hand, to secure
her from any such Elopement.
Player.
Are you sure on't, old Gentleman?
[Aside.
C. C. Man.
But what's become of your Shepherd, and his Country
Spouse? Your honest Play-House Couple, that were for marrying in
good Earnest. All a Banter! I can't chuse but think how I was drawn
in. What a credulous old Coxcomb they made of me! A couple of
Players, and marry!
Ay, verily, Sir, and are just now entring to ask your
Blessing.
C. C. Man.
My Blessing! and by my Troth they shall have it.
Enter Jenny in her own Cloaths, and her Damon in the Habit of Gentleman.
Dam.
Most honour'd Father! your dutiful Son and Daughter.
[Kneeling.
C. C. Man.
Sprights and Goblins? My Jenny! 'Tis impossible!
What Jenny's that yonder?
Actress
in the Gall.
Only some small part of her Wardrobe; her
Mask and her Scarf, Sir.
C. C. Man.
Cheated and abused! Was ever such a piece of Roguery
hammer'd, except in the Devil's Forge, a Play-House? But hark you
Sir, do you think this Hocus Pocus shall carry off my Daughter, and
ten thousand Pound?
Dam.
I hope so, Sir, her Uncle's Will has given it me:
You know you gave me your Consent to marry her,
All this good Company can bear me Witness.
C. C. Man.
What will they witness for thee? That thou hast debauch'd
my Daughter into a Stage-Player! Drest her in the Badge of
Satan! The Vestments of a Stroller! A Minstrel! Oh Abomination!
C. C. Wife.
Come, Husband, never vex your self at this small Blot
in her Scutcheon. The poor Girl loved this honest Gentleman, and I
resolved she should have him. But because his Appearance upon the
Stage, forsooth, had so lost him in your Favor, as to forbid him all
Thoughts of aspiring to her, I took Care she should descend to him;
made her take on Trip upon the Stage her self, to make an equal
Match of them. Nay, and this Play-House Plot of ours secured her against
all Dangers of an Alderman Pretender; for I very well knew his
nice City Honour would no more accept of a Player for a Wife, than
you one for a Son-in-law. And therefore make no more Words of the
Matter, but take 'em to your Arms, and give 'em your Blessing.
C. C. Man.
When the Wives of our Bosom plot against us, our Despotick
Government's at an end, and I must submit. Well, Spouse, if
I were but assured of his Quality and Fortunes—
C. C. Wife.
Trouble not your self about that.—Though you never
thought it worth your Inquiry, I thought it worth mine, and am very
Gentleman he professes himself to be.
C. C. Man.
Well, Wife, thou hast conquer'd and convinc'd me; and
instead of reforming the Stage the Stage has reformed me, made me
marry my Daughter to a brisk young Fellow that deserves her; and so
pass you together.
Dam.
Well, Sir, as kindly as you pusht on the Marriage betwixt
the honest Damon and Phyllis, I did not think these Walls worthy
of Honour. No,
My Side-Box Brothers, as I'm one of you,
Do not my Trip on the poor Stage despise,
You'd all play Damons for my golden Prize.
In Loves fair Lottery with my Fortune crown'd,
May you all draw like me, ten thousand Pound.
| The City-Ramble : or, A Play-house Wedding | |