University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Waitwell placing Bottles on the Table.
Enter Sir Antony and the Pilgrim.
Sir Ant.
This is a dry Subject, Pilgrim;
There's no engaging in't without a Bottle.

Pilg.
You'll have your own ways here.

[Walks about.
Sir Ant.
Have you infus'd the Opiate in his Wine?

Wait.
I warrant him he sleeps fort; Your's is half Water.

Sir Ant.
If I don't find him a Knave, I'll make him a Fool, for troubling me with his Impertinence:
But chiefly, for the dear Jest of exposing his Reverence to the laughter of the prophane.
Have you done there?
[Waitwell goes out.
Lock the door, and let no body come near us
Now Pilgrim, we are alone; And sit you down—
[Pilgrim stands and Crosses himself and Sir Antony.
Nay, I will have no Blessing upon our Endeavours, but a Bumper;—This will banish Crosses:
Here's to the falling of the Flesh, and the rising of the Spirit.

[Drinks.
Pilg.
'Tis a mysterious Health, of sacred sense,
Ev'n to the pulling down of Satan's Throne.

[Drinks.
Sir Ant.
A little Wine does well to qualifie the Water
You drink in your Pilgrimage.

Pilg.
Sometimes without offence, Wine may be us'd;
Tho' our whole Life is but a Pilgrimage—

[Sir Antony fills agen the Glasses.
Sir Ant.
That's as you please to make it.
Come Sir, this is the Searcher of Hearts;
Here's to the opening of ours—

[Drinks.
Pilg.
Hearts and Eyes, that we may see our Errors:
This Wine will warm him, sure.

[Aside.
Sir Ant.
Confession is a step to Repentance, you say?

Pilg.
The ready Road—

Sir Ant.
Then drink off your Glass, Pilgrim:
How do you like your Wine?

Pilg.
'Tis warm, I promise you.—

Sir Ant.

Able to distinguish a Saint from a Sinner; and will keep you
out of the Mire better, than your wooden Shoes.

Pilg.
'Twill rather leave us there. But to our purpose now.—

Sir Ant.
Another Glass to strengthen my Attention;
I shall edifie the better by it.

[Fills the Glass.
Pilg.
Sure he can't make me drunk.

[Aside.
Sir Ant.
I expected you wou'd ha' drunk to my Conversion.

Pilg.
I thou'd ha' began it in Charity, indeed;
But I'll make you what Reparation I may,
And drink a full Glass for my forgetfulness.

[Fills himself a Bumper.
Sir Ant.
I warrant him my own.

Pilg.
To your Conversion be it.—

[Drinks.
Sir Ant.
This is the way to't,
And the pleasantest Road you can travel in:
For let me tell you, The World is bad enough at the best,
We need not take pains to make it worse.

Pilg.
Too many do indeed.

[Sir Antony drinks.
Sir Ant.
Such foolish Apostles as thou art then:
Why I begin to despair of thee: I took thee for
A sanguine, sensual Sinner, a Man of Sense,
And an Hypocrite: But I find thee
A peaking Penitent, and an Ass.

Pilg.
You sit in the Seat of the Scorner.

Sir Ant.
Tho' you pass upon the Abbe, and other Fools,
I expected you wou'd have open'd your self to me:
I profess my self, what I thought you were under your habit,
A Rogue: We might have been of use to one another;
But since you are for cheating no body but your self,
[Fills agen.
I'll make an end of my Bottle and Business,
And leave you to say Grace to the next Courtesie
I offer you.

[Drinks.
Pilg.
I must not lose this opportunity.

Sir Ant.
Now I begin to believe all the silly things you have said
Of your self; your being weary of, and leaving the World,
When you had a good share of it your own,
Your parting with the Pleasures (which you call the Vanities) of it,
At a time, when you were in a condition of enjoying 'em;
By senseless resigning up your Birthright,

Pilg.
My Service to you.

[Drinks.
Sir Ant.
Of a considerable Quality and Fortune
To a Younger Brother; who indeed
Needed no other Expectation for his Wants,
Than the abundance of your Folly to live upon.

Pilg.
You censure mee too rashly.

[Rises.
Sir Ant.
I speak my Thoughts, and am so far
From imitating you any way,
That when an Elder Brother stood between me and a good Estate,
I made bold to remove him.

Pilg.
By no violent means.

Sir Ant.
Something before his time.
I had a Joynture too incumber'd me;
But a Physician after my own heart
Eas'd me, and my good Lady-Grandmother.

Pilg.
And dare you own it?

Sir Ant.
Not a at Barr of Justice.

Pilg.
So horrid a Villany!

Sir Ant.
Never troubles me: I don't proclaim it
But in my Cups, and where I think I'm safe
To Men of my own Kidney.—

Pilg.
You confess your self a Villain?

Sir Ant.
Any kind of Rogue that serves my turn;
For I am of a principle, that levels every thing
In the way of my Pleasure or Profit.

Pilg.
A worthy Principle!

Sir Ant.
I cheat the Men, and lye with the Women,
As many as I can get in my power.

Pilg.
Sir, I honour you; pray sit down agen.

[They sit.
Sir Ant.
To hear you preach agen?

Pilg.
And are you really this Rogue you pretend to be?

Sir Ant.
Are you the Fool you pretend to be?

Pilg.
I must come nearer you.

[Shews a Casket.
Sir Ant.
How, Jewels!

Pilg.
I bring my Welcom with me.

Sir Ant.
Enough to set up a Saint:
The Lady of Loretto may keep her Chamber,
Thou hast spoyl'd her Holy-days, by robbing her Shrine:
For thou hast robb'd hers, or some other, that's certain.

Pilg.
'Tis certain I have the Jewels:
How I came by 'em, and why I put on this Habit.—

Sir Ant.
Then you are no Pilgrim?

Pilg.

No more than you are a Priest.
I am as errant a Rogue as you can be; a shifter of Shapes and Names;
have travell'd through every Profession, and cheated in all: so having
by my industry gathered a handsom Fortune, I converted that into Jewels,
and my self into a Pilgrim, for the safer conveyance of both into Spain,
whither I was going till I lit upon you.

Sir Ant.
I saw you through your Weeds,
And had a mind to discover you.

Pilg.
Well, now you have discovered me.—

Sir Ant.
Why, now I like you.

Pilg.
But are you sure you like me?

Sir Ant.
Like you extreamly.

Pilg.
If you can like me, you may love me too;
For a Woman I know you are.

Sir Ant.
Am I discover'd too?—

[Aside.
Pilg.
Nay, I'm resolv'd to like you in any Sex.
[Squeezing and kissing her hand.
But it is impossible such Beauty should be a Man's:
And I will think you a Woman,
[Approaching nearer still.
Till you convince me to the contrary.

Sir Ant.
Have you a Mistress to be convinc'd to the contrary?

Pilg.
We were made for one anothers Conversation;
Here's that shall keep it in humour.

[Lays his Hand on the Casket.
Sir Ant.
I have heard of Mark Antony's Pear-Cordial.

Pilg.
You shall drink nothing else but Pearl dissolv'd:
Ha! What's the matter with me?

[Yawns often.
Sir Ant.
Now, now my Dose begins—
You grow indifferent—

Pilg.
My Senses vanish all

[Rises, and struggles all he can against it; but falls into his Chair a-sleep.
Sir Ant.
What fall a-sleep before me?

Pilg.
By and by I'll come agen to you.

Sir Ant.
So, he's as safe as his Casket in my custody:
Governor you may appear.
Enter Waitwell.
Here's an Oriental Present from the Mogul,
By the hands of his Embassador there.

Wait.
He looks as he were drunk-dead, or dead drunk.

Sir Ant.

Examin his Pockets, lets see what Credentials he has for his
Character, tho' you see I have treated him like an Embassador without 'em.

Wait.

Here are Tablets full of Memorandums, to avoid such and such
places where he has done his Rogueries.

Sir Ant.
Very well; these, when he wakes, will make good,
If he should have the impudence to dispute
My Title to the Theft.

Wait.
You won't keep all the Jewels?

Sir Ant.
A round Ransom may redeem 'em;
But him I must expose Governor;
When I send for him, bring him in a Chair to the Abbe's.

Wait.
Most carefully.

Sir Ant.

And if Sir Gentle enquire for me, as I expect he will, direct him
thither.

Wait.
I won't fail.

Sir Ant.

I have a Mistress for him.

[Exit.
[The Pilgrim carried off.
Scene changes to the Street.
Ilford alone.
Ilf.

Volante is so busie for another, she has nothing to do for her self;
so closely employ'd for Valentine, she has no Employment for any Body:
or when she has, 'tis partially design'd for that Boy-Knight, in prejudice
of every Man that may with more reason pretend.—

Sir Antony crosses the Stage.

Sir Antony—Sir Antony—a word with you—

Sir Ant.

Prithee let me go; I am big with a Jest, and shall certainly
miscarry with the first grave word you say to me.

Ilf.
Be deliver'd of your Burthen then, lay it at my door,
I'll Father it for a Friend.

[Bringing him back by the Hand.
Sir Ant.
As some Men wou'd a Bastard,
For the Reputation of getting it.

Ilf.
I have thought better of this Rivalling business between us;
I see plainly Volante declares for you—

Sir Ant.
I think the poor Creature loves me indeed.

Ilf.
And 'tis to no purpose to proceed—

Sir Ant.
None in the World, Sir.

Ilf.

In the measures I had taken in making my way to her, therefore
now I come, like a Friend, to desire a Favour of you.

Sir Ant.

Now you say something Ilford.

Ilf.

And like a Friend to advise you,
You're a very pretty Fellow, and have a great many dancing years to
trip over, before you come to be serious.

Sir Ant.
I hope so, Sir.

Ilf.
You shou'd Ramble before you Settle—

Sir Ant.
For fear of rambling after—

Ilf.
You are too great a Good, among the Women,
To think of being particular;
A dozen years too gay for the Condition—

Sir Ant.
Too gay for a Lover.

Ilf.
Too gay for a Husband.

Sir Ant.
Ay, marry Sir, a Husband!

Ilf.
How Sir?

Sir Ant.
I make Love sometimes, but do not often Marry.

Ilf.
What do you follow Volante for then?

Sir Ant.
Can't you tell for what?
For as good a thing you may swear Ilford:
You guess at her Inclinations, poor Rogue;
And a Lady shall never lose her longing upon me;
I design to lie with her.

Ilf.
Without marrying her?

Sir Ant.
Without asking any Consent but her own;
I am not for many words, when I have a mind to be doing.

Ilf.
So impudent a thing I never heard!

Enter Volante.
Vol.
Quarrelling agen Gentlemen!

Sir Ant.
Upon the old Subject.

Ilf.
I hate the Employment and Character of an Informer:
But you come so upon the scandalous minute,
I must tell you what, that young Gentleman—

Vol.
Sir Antony has no Friend of you, Sir.

Ilf.
Nor you of him, Madam; as you will find,
When you hear what he says of you.

Vol.
Pray what's the matter?

Ilf.
He has the impudence not only to design it,
But ev'n to me his Rival,
Who love and honour you—

Vol.
Your Story, Sir, your Story!

Ilf.

He dares notoriously tell me to my Face, That he never design'd to
Marry you; but because you were in love with him, poor Creature, he
wou'd do you the favour to lie with you.

Sir Ant.

Madam, you know he hates me upon your account;
And this is one of the poor Endeavours of his malice to ruin me: You
can't think I wou'd be such a Villain—

Vol.

I won't think it, Sir Antony.

Sir Ant.

Such an Ideot, if I cou'd have it in my head, to declare it to
my Rival.

Vol.
Oh no—it is not probable.

Ilf.
By Heav'n and Earth he said it.

Vol.
I wou'd not believe it for Earth and Heav'n,
If he did.

Ilf.
Nay then 'tis labour lost.

Vol.
If you'll deliver this Letter to Valentine,
You'l do him more service,
[Gives Ilford a Letter.
Than you have me with your News—
I won't leave you behind me, Sir Antony.

Sir Ant.
I'm going to the Abbe's, Madam.

[Exeunt.
Ilf.

Well! I could almost wish, he wou'd lye with her, to Convince her;
Tho' she won't believe me, she will him, and that, in time,

Will be a sufficient Revenge upon her Folly.

Enter Abbe and Valentine to Ilford: Count Verole, with six Bravo's on the other side; they stare upon each other, and pass on. Abbe, Val. and Ilford remain.
Abb.
The Count has his Guard du Corps, Valentine.

Val.
Sir Antony has Alarm'd him.

Ilf.
He is in a state of War, fit to give Battle already.

Val.
What he wants in his Person, he has in his Equipage:
But they threaten too much, to do any harm.

Abb.
Do you secure your Person; Volante shall secure
You Mistress against him, I warrant her.

Ilf.
Here's a Letter she gave me for you.

[Exeunt.