University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A Hall in Goosecap's House.
Goosecap enters, driving Simon in before him, with his Cane.
Simon.
Help! help! here, hold, Sir, go no further;
Icod you'll make me cry out murder;
And if I do—

Goose.
What then?

Simon.
Why, then,
You may repent.

Goose.
Take that again;
A stroke or two will never kill you.

Simon.
Once more, I say, be easy, will you?
What have I done?

Goose.
You dog, you knave,
What have you done! you ought to have
Your ears cut off for your assurance;
And then at least a twelve-months durance.

Simon.
Why so?

Goose.
To laugh, and make your sport
Of your superiors in such sort;
A lady too of wealth and fashion;
But let me not give way to passion:
Come, sirrah, strip yourself with speed,
And quit my house.

Simon.
I shan't, indeed.

Goose.
No, instantly, I say, depart.

Simon.
Well, then, I will, with all my heart.
But is not Betty to go too?

Goose.

SCENE II.

Simon, Betty.
Betty.
Is that my master there gone out?

Simon.
Your master! here has been a rout.

Betty.
Pooh, blockhead, never mind what he says.

Simon.
Cod, I've been almost lick'd to pieces,
For what we said to that old cat;
And there's still worser news than that;
He has turn'd off both you and I:
Fore George it aint a word o'lie:
He bid me tell you to get ready;
And now he's gone to seek my lady,
To try to make it up with her;
I'm sad and serious, never stir.

Betty.
Simon, come hither.

Simon.
Here am I.

Betty.
Some other method I must try:
Storming, I find, will fruitless be.

Simon.
Did mistress Betty speak to me?

Betty.
I did.

Simon.
I thought so; pray what is it?

Betty.
Master is gone again to visit
The wither'd beldame, o'er the way.

Simon.
To kiss and friends, I heard him say:
I warrant they'll be here anon.

Betty.
Then, Simon, you and I'll be gone.

Simon.
Gone! Where?

Betty.
From hence.

Simon.
Together, eh!

Betty.
Just as you please.

Simon.
As I please?

Betty.
Nay,
When folks are married there's no harm.

Simon.
No, to be sure.

Betty.
Well, don't alarm
The family about it now.

Simon.
But tell me where, and when, and how.

Betty.
Within this hour we'll settle all;
Only be ready, at my call,
To come and claim your better half.

Simon.
Icod, I cannot chuse but laugh,
To think how mad old Sir will be,
To see us wed, as well as he.
At the same church too, the same day,
Shan't us?

Betty.
Why, ay; perhaps we may.

Simon.

SCENE III.

Betty, Goosecap.
Goose.
So, mistress Betty, are you there?
I really wonder how you dare
Look in my face; have you forgot?
Say, were you mad, bewitch'd, or what,
That you behav'd so ill just now?
Answer me.

Betty.
Sir, I don't know how;
My silence may explain my terror;
I can but blush, and own my error.

Goose.
It really was a horrid shame.

Betty.
No doubt, Sir, I was much to blame;
But cannot you the cause unriddle?

Goose.
What cause?

Betty.
Love, jealousy.

Goose.
A fiddle!

Betty.
My conduct might be out of season;
But passion quite o'erpower'd my reason.

Goose.
You should have kept it more confin'd;
Howe'er, her ladyship's so kind,
She pard'ns the slights were thrown upon her;
And, shortly, I expect the honour,
To have her company within;
We quickly too shall be a-kin;
The happy words, to have and hold,
One flesh will make us.

Betty.
Sir, I'm told,
You're pleas'd that I should go away.

Goose.
No, Betty, you are free to stay
Till we are married.

Betty.
That's enough.

Goose.
She faints! here, take a pinch of snuff:
A glass of water!

Betty.
There's no need.
Your hand, Sir, pray.

Goose.
She's ill, indeed;
But, if she sees I'm touch'd, she'll make
Advantage of it.

Betty.
Thus, I take
My last farewell; a tear, a sigh,
You must permit.

Goose.
(Half crying.)
Betty, good bye.

Betty.

SCENE IV.

Goosecap, Betty, Old Lady.
O. Lady.
Bless me, what's this! upon my word,
Here are delightful doings t'ward!
Lock'd hand in hand, and both in tears,
A pair or tender parting dears:
You said you had discharg'd that minx;
You might have done so, Sir, methinks,
Before you had persuaded me.—

Goose.
Madam, she goes, as you shall see:
Betty, about your business strait.
Leave me, do'st hear?

O. Lady.
You need not wait
For packing up your trinkums, child:
We'll send them after you.

Betty.
(Aside.)
All's spoil'd:
My hopeful scheme's at once destroyed
By her intrusion.

O. Lady.
Wench, avoid
Our presence quickly.

Goose.
Betty, do.

Betty.
Yes, Sir; but first a word with you.

Goose.
With me!

O. Lady.
Speak out then.

Betty.
So I meant:
I only would ask your consent,
In duty bound.—

O. Lady.
For what?

Goose.
Nay, tarry.
Have patience; my consent!

Betty.
To marry!

Goose.
Marry! it must not be.

O. Lady.
Why not?

Goose.
Nay, not that I'm concern'd a jot:
But who is the deluding cur?

Betty.
A footman, at your service, Sir.
He's in the kitchen; shall I call him?

Goose.
Do, instantly, that I may maul him;
But, Betty, I'm asham'd to think
You so below yourself should sink.

Betty.

SCENE V.

Goosecap, Old Lady, and afterwards Betty, introducing Simon.
Goose.
Who can this be she means to wed?
I think she loves him too she said:
The false ungrateful—

O. Lady.
Tell me, Sir,
What do you mean by all this stir?
Indeed, so mov'd!

Goose.
I will, I swear,
Come to the bottom of th'affair.

O. Lady.
You think me then not worth an answer?
You are a very ill-bred man, Sir.

Goose.
Madam, excuse me, pray; I find
Myself, just now, disturb'd in mind.
Hey-day! What's here? Who's this I see?

Betty.
My husband, Sir, that is to be.
How do you like him?

Simon.
Sir, I'm yours.

Goose.
Mine, dog! This instant out of doors!
Betty, is he your choice?

Betty.
I hope,
You find him worthy—

Goose.
Of a rope!
Rascal, I say, let go her hand!

Simon.
For what?

O. Lady.
I am able to command
My rage no longer.

Goose.
Let her go.

O. Lady.
Sir, Mr. Goosecap, do you know
How you're behaving to me here?

Goose.
Betty! my life! my soul! my dear!
Turn that young jackanapes away:
I'll marry you.

O. Lady.
Hum!

Betty.
When?

Goose.
To-day.
Try, madam, to prevail upon her.

O. Lady.
I!

Betty.
Will you tho'?

Goose.
Upon my honour.

Betty.
Then, Simon, by your leave.

Simon.
Hey! how!
Are you false-hearted? Where's your wow?

Betty.
Gone.

Simon.
Then, by Jove, I've well got shut.

Betty.
But, here's a wife.

O. Lady.
You saucy slut!
Pray, Mr. Goosecap, tell me this;
Are you resolv'd to wed her?

Goose.
Yes—

O. Lady.
And is't behaving as you ought?

Goose.
'Tis my misfortune, not my fault;
I cannot help it.

Betty.
Will you stay,
And be a bride-maid?

Goose.
Do, ma'am, pray.

O. Lady.
You numpscul, you ideot, you grey-headed ass,
Who is she? who are you? who am I? do you know?
At this time of day, men are come to that pass,
They're vainer and sillier the older they grow.
At your time of life,
Is this a fit wife?
To a dark room and straw, thou poor lunatic go.
A word too in your ear,
She'll horn her dearest dear;
She will, Sir, indeed,
Believ't as your creed:
I can your fortune tell;
And to-morrow you'll see
A lawyer from me;
And so, Sir, fare-you-well.

SCENE VI.

Goosecap, Simon, Betty.
Simon.
And, Mistress Betty, now we're cool,
Is't thus you serve me—

Goose.
Out you fool.

Simon.
I'll be reveng'd for't, never stir.

Betty.
Come, you must raise his wages, Sir.—
A better mistress than a wife
You'll find me, Simon.

Goose.
Here, my life,
Receive my hand.

Betty.
And take you mine.

A. 2.
Darts, flames, joy, ecstacy divine!

Goose.
My heart's a forge where Beauty's son,
Young Cupid and his mam are;
There his darts she moulds,
And the anvil holds;
The little urchin beats them on,
Ton, ton, ton, ton.
Hark! don't you hear his hammer?

Betty.
We always find our parish clock
To the same motion sticking.
So my heart's to you
In its motion true:
First at my breast you made it knock,
Toc, toc, toc, toc:
Hark! don't you hear it clicking?

Goose.
My love!

Betty.
My dove!

Goose.
My chicken.
Do you love me now?

Betty.
So well, I vow,
Words are to weak to tell you how.

Goose.
Good lack!

Betty.
I'fack!

A. 2.
What is it ails me?
Somewhat assails me,
That thrills and disorders;
'Tis pleasure that borders
On pain.
Yet I swear by this kiss,
And by this, and by this,
I'd rather endure it,
Than soften or cure it,
And cherish it while I complain.

Goose.
Now I'll go buy the wedding-ring.

A. 2.
And then we'll love, and dance and sing,
And frisk and play,
Both night and day,
Like any thing.

SCENE VII.

Goosecap, Betty, Simon, Old Lady
Betty.
Bless me, her ladyship comes back.

Goose.
No matter, 'tis some new attack.
Well, madam, your commands speak out.

O. Lady.
I hope I'm welcome.

Betty.
Without doubt.

O. Lady.
I'm reconcil'd to our miscarriage,
And came to laugh, Sir, at marriage.

Goose.
Laugh, ma'am!

Betty.
'Tis neither shame nor sin.

O. Lady.
No, no; and when you please begin.

Goose.
O mighty love, who can controul
Thy influence o'er the human soul
Thy power is felt from pole to pole,
By victims great and many.
You turn at will all people's wits,
And make them mad and fools by fit;
But still where'er thy arrow hits,
The old fool's worse than any.

O. Lady.
Love is, in youth, a pleasing fruit,
Does with the season aptly suit;
And where its fertile branches shoot,
With health and joy we're feasted:
But love with age will never chime,
'Tis a tree bearing out of time,
The fruit nor wholesome is nor prime,
But sickens where 'tis tasted.

Simon.
In ancient fable we are told,
Alcides of immortal mould,
Did for a wench a distaff hold,
And gravely sat to spinning.
Think when the fool a master plays,
And weds his maid, although he strays,
He is no worse than Hercules;
And pray, Sirs, spare your grinning.

Betty.
Folks may find fault with this and that,
Say love with youth comes only pat,
That youthful pairs give tit for tat,
And all goes fine and clever.
That age should prudent be and cold;
But if men love not e'er they are old,
Thus much to say, I will be bold,
'Tis better late than never.