 | Sir Anthony Love : or, The Rambling Lady |  |
ACT V.
SCENE I.
Ilford in a Priest's Habit, between Sir Antony and Volante: Sir Antony leads her to the Door: Ilford dresses himself in his own Cloaths.Sir Ant.
Now you have done the Office of a Father to the Lady,
You may do the office of a Friend to me, and go to bed to her.
I can do no more than give you an Opportunity;
But if you don't employ it to her advantage,
She'll never rely upon you, to improve another to your own.
Ilf.
I never deserve another, if I don't make use of this.
There's no Ceremony to make the Bride coy, in going to bed,
She came in an Undress, as loose as her wishes;
And being under the impediment of but two pins,
I warrant she's in Expectation already.
Ilf.
She shant expect long.
Sir Ant.
There she is; kiss my wife and welcome.
She won't cry out, for her own sake,
Till 'tis too late to discover it for mine.
Ilf.
If she shou'd, I think the Castles our own.
Sir Ant.
I leave you to your Fortune;
I am going to seek mine in another Adventure.
Exit.
Ilf.
You have made my Fortune here.
Exit.
Scene changes to a Bed-Chamber.
SONG.
Volante
sola.
Methinks my Knight begins to shew himself already,
In a Husbands Indifference; making we wait
So long alone, in a place, where nothing
But his Company can entertain me:
But I have heard indeed, that she who marries a Man
For his conversation or good humor, takes care only
To secure the least, or the worst part of it to her self:
So this is but a small fault in Matrimony:
And ten to one, before the Year comes about,
I may have a more reasonable Cause of Repenting.
I think I hear him; O Sir, Are you come?
Enter Ilford to her.
Ilf.
Sooner then you expected, I believe.
Vol
How! Ilford!—
(Surpriz'd, and turning away.
Ilf.
I see you are surpriz'd to see me here;
And indeed the Occasion, that brings me to you,
Is very surprizing.
Vol.
What can you mean by this?
Ilf.
You have stoll'n a wedding, Madam,
Tho' you think to make it a secret; you ca'nt expect
That Sir Antony shou'd bring his Vanity so low,
Not to make a Boast of the Favour he has done you.
Vol.
By sending you to me?
Ilf.
To wish you Joy.
Vol.
A very likely story.
Ilf.
And give you Joy, Madam.
Vol.
Wou'd Sir Antony wou'd come,
Ilf.
He sent me with the Complement—
Vol.
He send you!
Ilf.
To supply his place to Night.
Your Husband wo'not come.
Vol.
Not come to me?
Ilf.
Be satisfied so farr, you are abus'd;
And to convince you, tho' too late; how unreasonably you have preferr'd
that Creature to every Body,
He has done what no body else cou'd ha' done to you.
Vol.
What has he done?
Ilf.
Giv'n me a fuller Revenge upon your folly, and scorn; then I cou'd
ha' conceiv'd for myself—
Vol.
What has he done to me?
Ilf.
He has marry'd and undone you, left you—
Vol.
Left me!
Ilf.
The first Night left you; left you to me:
Not that I believe he design'd me a favour,
More than he wou'd ha' done any Man else;
But you had us'd me so very ill;
He imagin'd, I was capable of any
Malicious Design of exposing you.
Vol.
Of exposing me!
Ilf.
But that you need not apprehend from me.
Vol.
I'm in your power; but pity me.
My Folly, and my Fortune are too plain.
Ilf.
Do you perceive it now?
Vol.
I shou'd ha' seen it sooner.
Ilf.
'Tis well you find it now.
However you deserve of me; I come to serve you:
And since this opportunity (that favours, and was given me for baser ends)
encourages me to nothing, beyond the hope of your esteem;
You must give me leave to think, that, from my behaviour, I deserve that
Honour better than my trifling Rival does the Title of your Love.
Vol.
You deserve every thing.
Ilf.
I said enough to warn you of him; but you wou'd venture.
Vol.
My shame confounds me!
Ilf.
You wou'd not credit me.
Vol.
I can but wish I had.
Ilf.
Were it to do agen, you wou'd follow your Inclination,
And do the same thing?
Vol.
I hate the Villain.
Ilf.
In your Anger?
Vol.
No, to death I hate him: And were I free from him.—
You wou'd not marry him!
Vol.
Never.
Ilf.
Then you are free from him.
Vol.
How! free from him!
Ilf.
Not marry'd to him.
Vol.
Wou'd you cou'd prove it too.
Ilf.
I'll make it plain, if you'll consent to it.—
Vol.
More willingly, then I did e're consent.
Make that but plain to me; and what returns are in the poor power of one
so lost—
Ilf.
So sav'd, I hope.
Vol.
You shall command.
Ilf.
I may restore you to your liberty;
But never can my self.
(Exeunt.
Scene changes to the Street.
Enter Sir Antony and Valentine.
Sir Anth.
This is the time, and place of appointment;
What 'twill come to, Valentine, I can't tell.
Val.
'Tis a whimsical Undertaking methinks,
To support another Woman's Intrigue, at your Expence—
Sir Ant.
There's no buying such a Frolick to dear.
Vol.
And part with your Lover to oblige her!
Sir Ant.
So long, I can't part with you; to provide for your pleasure as
well as my own:
And will be a Jest as long as we know one another.
Enter Palmer.
Palm.
Who's there? Sir Antony!
Sir Ant.
The same; I am afore-hand with you.
Palm.
The Lady, Sir, will thank you.
Whom have you with you there?
Sir Ant.
Only a Servant.
Palm.
You'll have no need of him; I come to serve you:
Besides he may be seen.
Sir Ant.
I'll send him away.
Palm.
I'll but step in, to make your way to the Lady,
And will wait upon you agen.
(Exit.
Val.
By this Fellow's advising to send away your Servant,
I fancy he may be a Rogue.
Sir Ant.
If he be a Rogue, I am resolv'd to discover the bottom of him;
but if there be a Woman in the case; I'll leave you to the Employment.—
Pal.
Sir.
Sir Ant.
Here.
Palm.
Are you alone?
Sir Ant.
I am.
Palm.
Follow me.
Sir Ant.
Follow me.
(Exeunt Valentine following Sir Antony.
Scene changes to the in-side of a House.
Enter Sir Antony and Valentine.
Val.
Your Pimp proceeds with caution.
But these dark Deeds may require our dark Lanthorn.
Sir Ant.
Give it me; I can manage this; you must manage the Lady,
and for once, not to make a Custom of it, I'll hold a Candle to you.
Palmer enters.
Palm.
Where are you, Sir Antony?
Val.
Here.
Palm.
I'm glad you are; and here I'll keep you—
Val.
Ha!
Palm.
Have you forgot your Friend the Pilgrim?
I am that Lady in love with you; and now I have you to myself, I must
come nearer to you.
Val.
The Devil you must—
(throws Palmer down.
(Sir Antony with his Lanthorn goes to 'em.
Sir Ant.
Are you my Friend, the Pilgrim, do you say?
Palm.
Then I am lost agen.
Sir Ant.
Why how came I to forget you so soon?
And are you the Lady that was in love with me?
Val.
Rise; and tell all you know of this business,
Or it shall be the last you shall ever engage in;
I know enough of you to send you to the Galleys.
Palm.
Why indeed Gentlemen, I won't stand Trial with you;
I confess some design of my own upon Sir Antony;
But your very good Friend, the Abbe first set it on foot,
By imploying, and paying me well, to decoy you
Into his power: Now, Sir, knowing your Character,
I thought nothing wou'd sooner spirit you any where,
Then the hopes of a new Woman.
Sir Ant.
You see I am true to my Assignation.
Val.
But where's the Abbe all this while.
Palm.
He's in the House, expecting the good hour.
Val.
How shall we do with him?
Palm.
To make my Peace with you,
I'll contribute to any Design against him.
Val.
That must be your way.
Go then; and to keep up the Jest, say nothing of what is past,
but bring him to me.—
(Exit. Palmer.
Val.
What do you design now?
Sir Ant.
To continue the Scene with him.
For having, as I told you, dispos'd of his Niece Volante to our Friend Ilford,
I suppose they may have occasion by to morrow, for his approbation of
what they are doing to night.
Val.
That's well thought on; his consent will come the easier, for our
having a hanck upon him.
Sir Ant.
Get you gone then, like an Evidence, behind the Hangings.
(Val. retires.
The Abbe enters to Sir Antony, singing, and dances round him.
A SONG.
Abb.
Have I caught you my little Mercury! have I caught you
Sir Ant.
You're very nimble Sir.
Abb.
Aye, aye; I have it in my head.
Sir Ant.
And in your heels too.
Abb.
Upon occasion!—Ah my little Man!
I'm young again; when I like my Company.
Sir Ant.
But who cou'd expect to see you here?
Abb.
Why any body, wou'd have expected it: How cou'd you expect
otherwise? How cou'd you think, I cou'd stay from you so long?
What, you expected a Woman?
Sir Ant.
I did indeed.
Abb.
Let the Women expect you: there's a plentiful Crop of Maidenheads;
if the War continues to carry off the Whore-masters, some of 'em
must fall of themselves, without gathering; there will scarce be Reapers enow
for that Harvest.
Sir Ant.
There's no Female-Famine, in this Year's Almanack,
No fear of wanting Women.
Abb.
No, no, No fear of wanting Women:
But a good natur'd, old merry Fellow, as I may be,
Who can tittle tattle, and gossip in their Families,
Upon an Ancient Priviledge with the Mothers,
May do any thing with the Daughters:
Such a Man is a Jewel, to bring you together.
Sir Ant.
Such a Man wou'd be a Jewel indeed.
Abb.
I know you little Rogue; your business is to be wicked:
I love to be wicked myself too, sometimes,
As often as I can decently bring it about, without scandal:
And I will be as wicked,—As wicked as I can be,
For you, and with you.
You can do no more than you can do,
Good old Gentleman.
Abb.
Old Gentleman, I won't be an old Gentleman;
I'm never older than the Company I am in:
What! Five and fifty does not make an old Man;
'Tis want of appetite, infirmity, and decay,
Not Five and fifty that makes a Man old:
Five and fifty, has it's pleasures.—
Sir Ant.
As good have none Abbe, they are faint and feeble,
Abb.
Delicate, and dainty my Dear,
Palatable and pleasant, and thou art mine.
Sir Ant.
How shall I know that Sir?
Abb.
Why thou sha't know, all in good time, Child,
But an old Fellow you say,
(Unbuttons, and throws down his Cloak.
What shall I do now, to convince you, that I am not an old Fellow? Let
me see; what shall I do for you?
Sir Ant.
What can you do for me!
Abb.
What can I do for you?
Sir Ant.
To prove you are not an old Fellow.
Abb.
What can I?—Why I can—I can part with my Money
to thee.
Sir Anth.
That's one Argument indeed.
Abb.
Besides I can—I won't tell you what I can:
But if you'll step into the next Room with me,
I have a Collation for you, and a—
There you shall find, what I can do for you.
Sir Anth.
If I shou'd retire with you, you'll be disappointed.—
Abb.
No, no, don't talk of a disappointment; I hate to be disappointed.
—We're very luckily alone, and shou'd make a good use of our time;
no body will come to disturb us.
Sir Anth.
But I may disappoint you myself—
Abb.
You will exceedingly; if you don't go along with me:
Delays are dangerous, when Opportunities are scarce;
And we elderly Fellows have 'em but seldome—
I vow I'le teize you, and kiss you into good humour;
I swear I will; if you won't go.
Sir Anth.
But 'tis not in my power to oblige you.
Abb.
I'll put it into your power, I warrant you.
Sir Anth.
But that I doubt Sir.
For very unhappily for your purpose; I am a—Woman.
Abb.
Ha! how, a Woman!
(drops her Hand.
Sir Anth.
A Woman!
Abb.
What the Devil have I been doing, all this while.
A Woman! are you sure you'r a Woman?
Sir Anth.
How shall I convince you?
Nay, nay; I am easily convinc'd; the very Name has convinc'd
me.
Sir Anth.
But if you have a mind to be satisfied—
Abb.
I thank you Madam, I am satisfi'd, more than I desire to be satisfi'd;
and as much satisfi'd as I can be, with a Woman.
Sir Anth.
I told you I should disappoint you.—
(puts on his Cloak agen.
Abb.
You did indeed; and you have kept your word with me, you have
disappointed me; plaguely disappointed me.
I hope there's no offence in a little waggery—
Sir Anth.
None at all, Sir.
Abb.
I don't use to take the freedom of being so familiar with the
Ladies—
Sir Ant.
I do believe you.
Abb.
Indeed I don't; I pay a greater respect to your Sex:
And had I known you were a Woman before,
I had kept my distance.—
Sir Anth.
Fie, fie, Sir, Ceremony among Friends!
Tho' you know me now to be a woman,
You need not keep a distance.
What tho' I have disappointed you in your way;
I may make you amends in my own—
Abb.
So you may indeed, Madam—
Sir Ant.
You guess what I mean Abbe?
Abbe.
If you wou'd be but so gracious.
Sir Ant.
How gracious wou'd you have me be?
Abb.
Ah! you'll never grant me the favour.—
Sir Ant.
What favour?
Abb.
Why,—to say nothing of this business.
Sir Ant.
Is that the favour.
Abb.
That's all Madam; the greatest favour you can do me;
And then you do my business.
Sir Ant.
Can you part with any Money now to me, now I'm a Woman?
Abb.
Here are a hundred Luidores in this Purse—
Sir Ant.
To muzzle the Scandal.
Abb.
And I'll get you a Husband into the bargain.
Enter Valentine and Palmer.
Val.
She'll keep your Council Abbe.
Abb.
Hem, hem, hem!
Val.
And in this scarcity of Men; you'll do her a mighty favour.
I can tell her, to secure a Husband for her.
Abb.
Hold you your tongue, Sir.
You shall have a Wife too; if Floriante will content you;
That Rogue Palmer has betray'd me.
Val.
No body shall betray you; we are all Friends;
Abb.
A favour to beg of me! Any thing, any thing, as many favours as
you please; 'tis but asking, and having, in the humour I am in, Gentlemen.
Sir Ant.
Our Friend, Ilford, has marry'd your Niece Volante,
And you must give your Consent to the wedding.
Abbe.
Give my consent to the wedding! Why, I'll dance at the wedding.
I'll have a Fiddle, and a young Fellow to tickle me,
And teach me to Caper; Gads so; I don't know what leggs
I stand upon at the news on't! I'll be as brisk
As the Bridegroom the first Night.
But we shall neither of us hold it; twon't last
The Year round with us; I'm an old fellow, that's the truth on't,
Tis done with me already; I'm upon my last Leggs.
But I have Floriante and Charlot to provide for still;
Poor Girls! while they are in a Nunnery, they lie upon
My Conscience: let me but bring them into the world agen,
And I'll be contented to go out on't—
Val.
Not yet a great while, Abbe.
Abbe.
As soon as I can get my self in the mind.
Sir Ant.
Wee'l keep you in another mind.
Abbe.
Nay, I am easily perswaded; but I have done with you.
Val.
The Lady Abbess is consenting to their Escape.
Abbe.
Being a Kinswoman, she was easily perswaded
To give 'em an Opportunity.
Val.
'Tis near the time now; wou'd I had Ilford here.
Sir Ant.
Why, I am here; I'll stand and fall by you.
Vall.
I must not now Expose you.
Abbe.
If you can but carry 'em off, the business is
Laid to your hands.
Exeunt.
Palm.
My business is over in this Town; and I had best get off while I
can; for fear of bringing a worse business upon me.
Exit.
Scene. The backside of a Nunnery.
Enter Verole and his Bravo's.
Ver.
What Floriante means by this Invitation to me, I can't tell;
'Tis a favour she never vouchsaf'd me before:
Perhaps the apprehension of taking the Habit
Which her Father intends she shall,
Has wrought upon her to consent rather to marry me:
But let her consent, and design what she please,
If she puts her self into my power, as to Night she says she will, I design
to let her see, how very little I value that favour, for which I must be oblig'd
more to her Confinement, then to her Inclination, or Choise.
Stand close, here's Company.
Val.
I am as full of apprehension, as an old Soldier upon the Guard of a
Counterscarp; where his Fears cannot be more uneasie, than my Hopes are
now.
Ver.
He shou'd be an Englishman, by the similitude,
To let his Friends know, from his own mouth, that he has made a Campaigne.
Sir Ant.
This is the backside of the Nunnery—
Val.
And the Garden Door,—I think I hear it open—
Charlot Enters.
O Floriante!
Ver.
Floriante!
Sir Ant.
Stand fast, we're set upon.
Val.
You must not meet the danger—
(To Sir Antony.
Ver.
Fall on, and kill the Ravisher—
(Fights.
Come my fair Fugitive, you must along with me.
(Leads her out.
Valentines Party beats the Bravo's off; one wounded stays. Floriante Enters as Charlot did.
Flor.
What Noise was that?
Brav.
Some help I hope.
Flor.
How my Sister Charlot has succeeded, under my Name, with her
Count, to morrow will discover.
Brav.
Ha! the Count then has the wrong woman.
Flor.
Wou'd Valentine were come.
Brav.
O wou'd he were to help me!
Flor.
Who's there? a man wounded?
Brav.
One of your Servants;
If you are Floriante.
Flor.
I am.
Brav.
And wounded in your Cause.
Flor.
I'm sorry for't; Do you belong to Valentine?
Brav.
I do.
Flor.
Where is he?
Brav.
He got off safe; And if you'l lend me your charitable hand, I'll
guide you to him.
(Leads him off.
Re-enter Valentine and Sir Antony.
Sir Ant.
Rogues, Sons of Whores, and Cowards!
Flor.
Sir Antony.
Sir Ant.
Here am I.
Val.
Floriante!
Flor.
Valentine!
Val.
I was afraid I had lost you.
Flor.
Here's an honest man was conducting me to you, one of your
Friends.
Val.
One of my Friends! He's one I did not reckon upon,
Brav.
I am; and had not you interrupted me,
I had done my Master service;
Carry'd the Lady to him.
Flor.
What a Mischief have I scap'd—
Val.
Thou art a gallant Fellow, and dost deserve a better Master;
But thou hast done thy duty, and I will do mine;
Carry him home, and get a Surgeon to him—
(Lead off.
Flor.
Well; I run a mighty venture.
Sir Ant.
Of loosing a Maiden-head, I grant you.
Flor.
I may Repent—
Sir Ant.
The keeping of it so long.
Flor.
I may repent at leisure.
Val.
You may indeed, if you don't make haste,
For we must expect to be pursu'd.
Sir Ant.
You, and I Madam, are much about a size; what if we change
Cloaths; It may favour your Escape, if you come to be follow'd.
Val.
Admirably thought on! Madam, you need not make a scruple of
shifting before Sir Antony; whom from this time, you may know to be a
Woman.
Flor.
A Woman!
Sir Ant.
Now for my Petticoats agen.— Exeunt.
Scene. The Abbe's House.
Count Canaile, Count Verole, Abbe and Charlot.
Can.
Sir, I must thank you for the care you have shewn of my Family;
Tho' I believe it has carry'd you farther then you are aware off:
This is my Daughter Charlot.
Ver.
Charlot!
Abbe.
Charlot!
Char.
The very same. But Floriante is oblig'd to you; you meant this
favour to her: But by this time, she has put her self into the care of a Gentleman,
who will find a kinder way of disposing her, then into the hands
of her Father.
Can.
Dishonourable Girle!
Ver.
If it be possible, I'll recover her, and yet revenge my Love.
Exit.
Can.
But Charlot, how came you to think of running away with Valentine,
when you know I design'd you to marry him.
Charl.
Why, I thank you, Sir, you design'd very well for me; But I was
too well acquainted with Valentine, and my Sisters thoughts, to depend over
much upon that hope: I knew there was no parting them; therefore consented
the easier to assist her, in getting out of the Nunnery.
Abbe.
Very well.
Can.
Very well Brother!
Let her go on.
Char.
I began to apprehend the danger of staying behind in a place, and
profession, wholly disagreeable to my humour.
Abbe.
And well you might.
Char.
I thought fit to provide for my self.
Abbe.
In good time you did, Niece.
Char.
And accordingly, in my Sister's name; I sent to Count Verole;
He came at the time appointed, expecting Floriante: But Valentine, by what
accident, I know not, coming before his time, knowing nothing of me, or
my Plot upon the Count, took me for her, call'd me Floriante, upon which his
Bravo's fell upon Valentine: But the Count in a more gentle-manly regard to
his person, encountred me, and brought me where you find me.
Abbe.
But methinks the Count, taking you for Floriante, his old Mistress,
might ha' made another use of his Victory, then to have brought you in
triumph to your Father.
Char.
I expected he wou'd indeed; But by what he said to me,
I found he had little or no design in coming there;
But to revenge himself upon my Sister, and her scorn.
Can.
I'm glad he has no other design upon her.
Char.
And so am I indeed, Sir.
Abbe.
Why Charlot? You are not in Love with the Count?
Char.
Not so much in love with the Count, as I am out of love with a
Nunnery:
Can.
Well, well; If Valentine be not hurt,
This matter will clear of it self—
Abbe.
And so it will, I warrant you.
Exeunt.
Scene. The Street.
Enter Sir Gentle Golding.
Sir Gent.
Why, how a Man may be mistaken in his Friends! I cou'd not
ha' believ'd it; (had not one of their underling Rogues told me so himself)
that any one cou'd ha' been so cheated, as I have been, by my oun Countrymen:
—If I durst but send any of 'em a Challenge; I might get some of
my mony agen; but that may draw me into a worse Premunire, then I
have yet been in. Let me see; Can't I have a safer Revenge upon 'em?
Valentine has stoll'n a Fortune, and entrusted me to bring a Father to marry
'em; Now if I should go wilfully, in a mistake, to the Gentlewoman's own
Father, for a Licence to marry 'em. The truth on't is, I have a mind to
forbid the Banes, and get her my self if I can; for Floriante is a Woman of
Quality.—
Count Verole in pursuit of her, Enters with his Bravo's.
Ver.
Do you know her, Sir?
Sir Gent.
Yes Sir, I think I do.
Then as you are a Gentleman, assist me; thus far I have News
of her.
Sir Gent.
I am a Gentleman, Sir; you shall find me a Gentleman:
And I'll tell you more News of her; I'll carry you to the very place, where
she is Sir; and that's as much as you can expect from a Gentleman, when
a Friend is concern'd.
Ver.
It is indeed Sir, more then I expected;
Pray along with me.
(Exeunt.
Valentine with Floriante in Sir Antony's, and Sir Antony in her Cloaths.
Val.
So far we are safe Ladies, and the shifting your Habits will secure us
so: Wou'd Sir Gentle wou'd come agen;
Flor.
Men of your Conversation and Experience in the World,
Valentine, seldome like the Women you marry.
Val.
Because we seldom marry the Women we like.
Flor.
Well, since Marriage at best is a Venture, I had as good make
it myself, as let another make it for me, at my Cost.
Val.
To let a Father choose for you in Love, is as unlucky, as when you
are in fancy at play, and pushing at a Sum, to desire another to throw out
your hand.
Sir Ant.
I'll be hang'd if that fool Sir Gentle has not betray'd us.
(looking out.
Val.
Yonder he comes indeed, with a Rabble of Rogues at his heels.
Sir Ant.
There's no resisting 'em; provide for your selves as well as you
can.
I have yet a trick to cozen 'em.
(Exit.
Enter Sir Gentle and Verole, as before.
Ver.
See, see, upon sight of us, they have quitted their Prize:
Is this their English Gallantry? They're out of sight already.
Let 'em go; the Lady is our Game.
(Exit with Followers.
Sir Gent.
I'll make some of 'em know to their Cost, that by using me so
little like a Gentleman, they have taught me to do as I do, and use 'em as
they deserve.
Verole returns with Sir Antony.
Ver.
Now Floriante, you find you have thrown your self away, upon a
Fellow that has not the spirit to stand by you, or himself, to keep your
folly in countenance.
Sir Ant.
Pray Sir, a word with you—
(takes him aside.
Ver.
Well Madam: What can you say to me?
Sir Ant.
Why, I say, you're an Ass, to run about to disturb other People:
I am Sir Antony Love, not Floriante; don't discover me for your own sake;
but get you gone about your business, and leave me to this English-man.
Ver.
I'll take his Advice, for fear of being laugh'd at: Sir you have behav'd
yourself so like a Man of Honour in this business, that I must desire
happen'd.
(Exit Verole, and his Followers.
Sir Gent.
Yes, yes; I'll take care of her, I warrant you.
Why what a lucky Rogue am I! upon my first inclination to play the
Knave, to have so good an occasion of doing it.
And indeed, who wou'd take a trust upon him, but for the priviledge
and benefit of breaking it?—So Madam,
Sir Ant.
You are a civil Gentleman; I know you.
Sir Gent.
You shall know me for a civil Gentleman, if you please; tho
I am a Knight, where I am not familiar.
Sir Ant.
I know you are Sir; you may have pity for me.
Sir Gent.
Alack a day! I have indeed, a heart brim-full for you.
Sir Ant.
You won't force me to marry that Monster?
Sir Gent.
Not I, as I hope to be sav'd, Madam; nothing against fancy.
Sir Ant.
To throw away my Youth, Beauty, and Fortune, which you
know are not contemptible.
Sir Gent.
Incomparable Madam; incomparable; your Youth and Beauty,
without your Fortune.
Sir Ant.
Wou'd they were worth your asking.
Sir Gent.
Wou'd I might have 'em for asking.
Sir Ant.
Valentine I despair of; but if there be an English-man,
As an English-man he must be—
Sir Gent.
Why, I am an English-man; and wou'd marry you.
Sir Ant.
The sooner you secure me, the better then.
Sir Gent.
I think so too Madam.
(Exeunt.
Canaile, Verole, Abbe, Ilford, Volante, Charlott, enter.
Abb.
Why here's a Night of Action indeed; Ilford, you began the
Dance with Volante; and Count, I hope you'll continue it, with my
Niece Charlott;
As for Valentine and Floriante, they have had their frisk in a corner by this
time, or he is not the Man I take him for.
Verol.
When you fell into my hands to Night; had I known my good
Fortune, I had improv'd it then: But now I have it, in having you.—
And happier yet, in having your Consent.
Can.
You have my Blessing both.—
Valentine and Floriante at the Door.
Abb.
You may appear, we're all of a Family now, Cozen Germans, and
Friends.—Come here's a Pair, that wants your Blessing too.
I can't deny it now;—Rise and be happy.
Abbe.
I have a blessing too for you, my Girls; Five thousand Crowns a
piece more than I design'd you; and a Thousand extraordinary for her who
brings me the first Boy; A small Gratuity Gentlemen, to keep up your
Fancy, and encourage your pains, that you mayn't think it unprofitable labour,
upon your Wives.
Can.
But why in Sir Antony's Cloaths, Floriante? Where is this mad Knight?
Flor.
Somewhere in my Petticoats: But the Count can give you the best
Tidings of him.
Ver.
I left him with one Sir Gentle Golding; one whom you are beholden
to, for familiarly, upon the first word, he betray'd you, and carry'd
me to seize you.
Val.
Well, I don't doubt but she will give us a handsom Revenge upon
him.
Can.
She? Who?
Val.
Sir Antony, Sir; For this Sir Antony after all, is a Woman.
Omnes.
A Woman!
Abbe.
Aye, pox take her, she is a Woman.
Vol.
Then I am free indeed.
Ilf.
And I am happy.
Val.
At leisure I'll tell you all her story.
Enter Sir Gentle with Sir Antony.
Sir Gent.
Now, I am sufficiently reveng'd on Valentine and Sir Antony
for cheating me; I think I have paid 'em in their own Coin: And disappointed
the Count too, in marrying Floriante.
Omnes.
Floriante!
Sir Gent.
Come Father-in-Law, this business will out I see, if you'l give
us your blessing, so; if not, I shall begin upon your Daughter without saying
Grace.
Can.
Much good may do you, Sir, with your Bride.
Val.
Aye, aye; we must all wish you Joy, Sir; You have a blessing sufficient
in a good Wife—
Sir Ant.
If you know when you're well.
Sir Gent.
O deliver me! What do I see!
Val.
Why you see your old Mrs. Lucy, in your new Lady-wife;
We are all witnesses of your owning your Marriage.
Sir Gent.
I do not own it;—I'll hang like a Dogg, drown like a blind
Puppy, die and be damn'd, but I'll be divorc'd from her.
Val.
That's your nearest way to Divorce.
Ilf.
And will save the trouble of Doctors Commons.
Val.
Come, come, I'll put you in a better; There are old Scores between
you and Mrs. Lucy,—You have made her a Lady indeed, which shews
a grateful Nature in you, and will sound well in the Ears of the World. But
to support her Quality—
Her Qualities will support that.
Val.
Out of your Two thousand pounds a Year, give her a Rent-charge of
Five hundred, and she shall never trouble you more, not so much as to be a
Godfather to another Man's Child upon her Body, which may otherwise
inherit your Acres.
Sir Gent.
Why there's the Devil on't agen, to Father another man's Children,
when one is not so much as a Kin to 'em! Well, any Composition to
be rid of her; I find 'tis a Blessing I must pay for.
(A Dance.
Val.
Come, come, we must have a Dance to all these Weddings.
Sir Ant.
Thus Coxcombs always the best Husbands prove
When we are faulty, and begin to rove,
A sep'rate Maintenance supplies our Love.
Sir Gent.
When we have Mistresses above our Sense,
We must redeem our Persons with our Pence.
| Sir Anthony Love : or, The Rambling Lady | |