 | A Hint to Husbands |  |
SCENE III.
—An apartment in Lady Le Brun's house.Lady Le Brun speaking to a Servant.
LADY LE BRUN.
When Lady Transit comes, you will admit her.
Take notice, I'm at home to no one else.
[Exit Servant.
Well, I protest I am so greatly taken
With my new character, I really think
I shall lay by my old one.—Sir, you play—
Madam, you deal—My lady, you have lost.
Ah! that's a dull tune, and has tir'd my ears;
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Gaming! good b'ye! you never was my friend—
Prudence! your servant—Pretty miss, how prim
And proper you are dress'd! you wear deep tuckers,
And keep good hours—Well! I won't promise either.
But come, sweet Pity! whom I always lov'd,
Celestial Charity, whom I adore,
Come, ye kind Virtues, I am all your own!
Servant enters.
SERVANT.
The Lady Transit, madam.
[Exit Servant.
Lady Transit enters.
LADY LE BRUN.
My dear lady,
I'm honour'd by this visit. You seem faint;
My tedious stairs have tir'd you—Will you sit?
LADY TRANSIT.
You're very kind.
I'm sensible I can't conceal my weakness;
But I persuade myself that you can pity it.
LADY LE BRUN.
A woman to a woman needs not blush
To own her weakness; and perhaps there needs
No great sagacity to guess the cause.
Ah, madam, I am not without experience
How little trust can be repos'd in husbands,
And cou'd, if needful, tell as bad a tale
Of my good man, as you can do of yours.
We, who are wives, shou'd make it common cause:
Therefore confide in me; I sha'n't betray you.
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I was a girl obscurely, humbly bred,
And little grac'd with those attractive powers,
Which you possess, to charm the hearts of men,
And draw them back again if they attempt
To escape from your allurements.
LADY LE BRUN.
My dear lady,
I see that you mistake me, and are seeking
To find a by-path to an open heart.
Do me more justice, and believe for once
A woman of the world can be sincere.
Had I those fascinating charms you speak of
(Which, by the way, my glass could never show me),
I might perchance have sent a random glance
At some pert heartless coxcomb for my sport,
And teas'd him with a little cat-like play;
But to alarm the wife, allure the husband,
And do unholy mischief with my eyes,—
Sooner than that, I'd rather be a mole,
Condemn'd to grope in darkness all my life.
LADY TRANSIT.
Ah, now I see how much I am undone;
For if I hear you talk a little longer,
And see you smile, I shall acquit my husband.
LADY LE BRUN.
Aye; but I do not smile upon your husband;
And when I talk, 'tis only with a view
To talk him out of his absurdity.
The silly man, because I lost my money,
Thought I must be a loser every way.
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Then you have seen him?—
LADY LE BRUN.
Oh, yes, I have seen him,
And, till he married, saw him every where,
Prowling from place to place, and making eyes
At each stray miss—myself amongst the many.
He call'd it love. It made no way with me;
For my sage mother bade me set my cap
At none but marrying men. He was not that;
And now he is that, be assur'd his lordship
Is further off than ever.
LADY TRANSIT.
You console me.
LADY LE BRUN.
Ah! you may draw that consolation, madam,
From nineteen fellow-sufferers out of twenty.
I laugh my cares away; for ridicule
Puts melancholy down as it does pride.
Your lord is gone, as those sage persons go
Who hunt for butterflies,—on a short tour,
To seek about for what he'll never find.
Nay, more; I know he's jaded, sicken'd, sham'd
Out of his freak already.—Come to me
This afternoon, you'll see him at your feet.
LADY TRANSIT.
How can that be expected?
LADY LE BRUN.
I'll secure it.
I will apprise him he shall meet you here
And seal a peace—I'll answer for his coming.
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At what hour shall I come?
LADY LE BRUN.
At eight precisely.
LADY TRANSIT.
Is there no chance that I shall meet Sir Charles?
LADY LE BRUN.
Sir Charles is off, and whirl'd away as fast
As four lean post-horses can scour the road.
Yet, you are right to guard against that chance.
Sir Charles is mischievous, I fairly tell you;
And if a man of his aspiring sort
Once sets his foot though on the lowest streak
Of sly seduction's ladder, let the virtue
Which he assails beware. I ask your pardon:
I know this caution don't apply to you.
LADY TRANSIT.
In truth, it does not.
LADY LE BRUN.
Then you'll come this evening?
LADY TRANSIT.
Yes, I will come—I cannot, will not doubt her.
(Lady Le Brun rings the bell.)
LADY LE BRUN.
Who waits? Call up the Lady Transit's coach.
LADY TRANSIT.
Lady Le Brun, my fate is in your hands;
And I must hope, that one by Heav'n endow'd
With such sweet graces, such persuasive powers,
Would not employ them but to those good ends
For which they were bestow'd.
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No; I can mix
With a bad world, and be the friend of virtue:
Of course your friend—At eight I shall expect you.
Now where is that provoking creature Pliant?
[Exit Lady Transit.
Pliant enters to Lady Le Brun.
PLIANT.
Oh! here I am.
LADY LE BRUN.
Aye; you're a dear good soul!
I've tir'd your patience out.
PLIANT.
No; I am us'd to't.
Nobody lets me in till they've let out
All others, and are weary of themselves.
My whole life through has been a waiting job:
I've waited for preferment; it don't come:
I've waited for the death of a rich aunt;
The old girl is immortal: I have waited
For promises, for friendships, for the favours
Of the fair sex.—
LADY LE BRUN.
Aye, there you wait in vain.
PLIANT.
Well, but I look'd to have snapt a dainty widow:
Seven years her husband was a dying man.
He died at last: I staid her mourning out;
So did not she:—She married in six months.
I wait for every one; no one waits for me,
Except my creditors.
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Now, stop your tongue,
And listen to th'instructions I shall give you.
Find out Lord Transit—find him, do you mind me,
Let him be where he will; take no denial—
Be sure of that.
PLIANT.
I will, I will be sure.
I have a way of dealing with denials;
They don't daunt me—I'm too well us'd to them.
LADY LE BRUN.
Now you must tell him I have had a visit
From his afflicted lady.
PLIANT.
What afflicts her?
She's a fine woman—I should like to comfort her.
LADY LE BRUN.
Oh, thou tormenting wretch! I'll trust no message
To such a windmill-headed thing as thou'rt.
I'll write a letter—you can carry that.
Come, follow me—I'm going to my closet.
PLIANT.
Aye, so am I—I'm very fond of closets.
[Exeunt.
| A Hint to Husbands | |