University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Bear.
Without.

Ho Francis, Humphrey, show a Room there!

Enter Courtal, Freeman, Lady Cockwood, Ariana, Gatty, and Sentry.
Court.
Pray, Madam, be not so full of apprehension;
There is no fear that this should come to
Sir Oliver's knowledge.

La. Cock.
I were ruin'd if it shou'd, Sir! Dear, how
I tremble! I never was in one of these houses before.

Sent.
This is a Bait for the young Ladies to
Swallow; she has been in most of the Eating-
Houses about Town, to my knowledge.

Aside.
Court.
Oh Francis!

Enter Waiter.
Wait.
Your Worship's welcome, Sir; but I
Must needs desire you to walk into the next
Room, for this is bespoke.

La. Cock.
Mr. Courtal, did not you say, this
Place was private?

Court.
I warrant you, Madam. What
Company dines here Francis?

Wait.
A couple of Country Knights, Sir Joslin
Jolly and Sir Oliver Cockwood, very honest Gentlemen.

La. Cock.
Combination to undo me!

Court.
Peace, Madam, or you'll betray
Your self to the Waiter.

La. Cock.
I am distracted! Sentry, did not I
Command thee to secure all Sir Oliver's Cloaths,
And leave nothing for him to put on, but his
Penitential Suit, that I might be sure he
Could not stir abroad to day?

Sent.
I obey'd you in every thing, Madam; but I
Have often told you this Sir Joslin is a wicked Seducer.

Aria.
If my Uncle sees us, Sister, what
Will he think of us?

Gat.
We come but to wait upon her Ladiship.

Free.
You need not fear, you Chickens are
Secure under the wings of that old Hen.

Court.
Is there to be no body, Francis,
But Sir Oliver and Sir Joslin?

Wait.
Faith, Sir, I was enjoyn'd secrecy
You have an absolute power over me: Coming
Lately out of the Country, where there is but
Little variety, they have a design to solace
Themselves with a fresh Girl or two, as I
Understand the business.

Exit Waiter
La. Cock.
Oh Sentry! Sir Oliver disloyal!
My misfortunes come too thick upon me

Court.
Aside.
Now is she afraid of
Disappointed on all hands.

La. Cock.
I know not what to do, Mr.
I would not be surpriz'd here my self, and yet
I would prevent Sir Oliver from prosecuting
His wicked and perfidious intentions.

Aria.
Now shall we have admirable sport,
What with her fear and jealousie.

Gat.
I lay my life she routs the Wenches.

Enter Waiter.
Wait.
I must needs desire you to step into the next
Room; Sir Joslin and Sir Oliver are below already.

La. Cock.
I have not power to move a foot.

Free.
We will consider what is to be done
Within, Madam.

Court.
Pray, Madam, come; I have a
Design in my head which shall secure you, surprise
Sir Oliver, and free you from all your fears.

La. Cock.
It cannot be, Sir.

Court.
Never fear it: Francis, you may own
Mr. Freeman and I are in the house, if they ask for us;
But not a word of these Ladies, as you tender
The wearing of your Ears.

Exeunt.
Enter Sir Joslin, Sir Oliver, and Waiter.
Sir Jos.
Come, Brother Cockwood, Prithee be brisk.

Sir Oliv.
I shall disgrace my self for ever, Brother.

Sir Jos.
Pox upon care, never droop like a Cock
In moulting time; thou art Spark enough in all
Conscience.

Sir Oliv.
But my heart begins to fail me
When I think of my Lady.

Sir Jos.
What, more Qualms yet?

Sir Oliv.
Well, I will be courageous: But it is not
Necessary these strangers should know this is
My Penitential Suit, Brother.

Sir Jos.
They shall not, they shall not. Hark
You old Boy, is the Meat provided? Is the Wine
And Ice come? And are the Melodious Rascals
At hand I spoke for?

Wait.
Every thing will be in a readiness, Sir.

Sir Jos.
If Master Rake-hell, with a Coach full, or two
Of Vizard-masks and Silk Petticoats, call at the
Door, usher 'em up to the place of execution.

Wait.
You shall be obey'd, Sir.
Exit Waiter.

Enter Rake-hell.
Sir Jos.
Ho, here's my little Rake-hell come!
Brother Cockwood, let me commend this ingenious
Gentleman to your acquaintance; he is a Knight
Of the Industry, has many admirable qualities,
I assure you.

Sir Oliv.
I am very glad, Sir, of this opportunity
To know you.

Rake.
I am happy, Sir, if you esteem me your
Servant. Hark you, Sir Joslin, is this Sir
Oliver Cockwood, in earnest?

Sir Jos.
In very good earnest, I assure you, he is
A little fantastical now and then, and dresses
Himself up in an old fashion: But that's all one
Among Friends, my little Rake-hell

Sir Oliv.
Where are the Damsels you talk'd of,
Brother Jolly? I hope Master Rake-hell has not forgot 'em.

Rake.
They are arming for the ran-counter.

Sir Jos.
What tricking and trimming?

Rake.
Even so, and will be here immediately.

Sir Oliv.
They need not make themselves so
Full of Temptation, my Brother Jolly and I, can
Be wicked enough without it.

Sir Jos.
The truth is, my little Rake-hell, we are
Both mighty Men at Arms, and thou shalt see us
Charge anon to the terror of the Ladies.

Rake.
Methinks that Dress Sir Oliver is a little
Too rustical for a Man of your capacity.

Sir Oliv.
I have an odd humor, Sir, now, and
Then; but I have wherewithal at home to
Be as spruce as any man.

Rake.
Your Perriwig is too scandalous, Sir
Oliver, your Black Cap and Border is never
Wore but by a Fidler or a Waiter.

Sir Jos.
Prithee, my little Rake-hell, do not put my
Brother Cockwood out of conceit of himself;
Methinks your Calot is a pretty Ornament, and
Makes a Man look both Polite and Politick.

Rake.
I will allow you, 'tis a grave ware, and fit
For men of bus'ness, that are every moment bending
Of their brows, and scratching of their heads, every
Project would claw out another Perriwig; but a
Lover had better appear before his Mistress with a
Bald Pate; 'twill make the Ladies apprehend a savor,
Stop their Noses, and avoid you: 'Slife, Love in a
Cap is more ridiculous then Love in a Tub, or Love
In a Pipkin.

Sir Oliv.
I must confess your whole head is
Now in fashion; but there was a time when
Your Calot was not so despicable.

Rake.
Here's a Perruque, Sir.

Sir Oliv.
A very good one.

Rake.
A very good one? 'tis the best in England.
Pray, Sir Joslin, take him in your hand, and draw
A Comb through him, there is not such
Another Friz in Europe.

Sir Jos.
'Tis a very fine one indeed.

Rake.
Pray, Sir Oliver, do me the favor to
Grace it on your head a little.

Sir Oliv.
To oblige you, Sir.

Rake.
You never wore any thing became you half
So well in all your life before.

Sir Jos.
Why, you never saw him in your life before.

Rake.
That's all one, Sir, I know 'tis impossible.
Here's a Beaver, Sir Oliver, feel him; for fineness,
Substance, and for fashion, the Court of France
Never saw a better; I have bred him but a
Fortnight, and have him at command already.
Clap him on boldly, never Hat took the Fore-
Cock and the Hind-cock at one motion so naturally.

Sir Oliv.
I think you have a mind to make a
Spark of me before I see the Ladies.

Rake.
Now you have the meen of a true Cavalier,
And with one look may make a Lady kind, and
A Hector humble: And since I nam'd a Hector,
Here's a Sword, Sir: Sa, sa, sa, try him, Sir Joslin,
Put him to't, cut through the Staple, run him
Through the Door, beat him to the Hilts, if he
Breaks, you shall have liberty to break my Pate,
And pay me never a Groat of the ten for't.

Sir Jos.
'Tis a very pretty Weapon indeed, Sir.

Rake.
The Hilt is true French-wrought, and
Doree by the best Workman in France. This Sword
And this Castor, with an embroider'd Button and
Loop, which I have to vary him upon occasion,
Were sent me out of France for a Token by my elder
Brother, that went over with a handsome equipage,
To take the pleasure of this Champagn.

Sir Oliv.
Have you a mind to sell these things, Sir?

Rake.
That is below a Gentleman; yet if a person
Of Honor, or a particular friend, such as I esteem
You, Sir Oliver, take at any time a fancy to a Band,
A Cravat, a Velvet Coat, a Vest, a Ring, a Flajolet,
Or any other little Toy I have about me, I am
Good-natur'd, and may be easily perswaded
To play the Fool upon good terms.

Enter Freeman.
Sir Jos.
Worthy Master Freeman!

Sir Oliv.
Honest Franck, how cam'st thou to
Find us out, Man?

Free.
By meer chance, Sir; Ned Courtal is without
Writing a Letter, and I came in to know whether
You had any particular engagements, Gentlemen.

Sir Oliv.
We resolv'd to be in private; but
You are men without exception.

Free.
Methinks you intended to be in private
Indeed, Sir Oliver. 'Sdeath, what disguise have
You got on? Are you grown grave since last
Night, and come to sin incognito?

Sir Oliv.
Hark you in your Ear, Frank, this is
My habit of Humiliation, which I always put on
The next day after I have transgressed, the better
To make my pacification with my intens'd Lady—

Free.
Ha, ha, ha—

Rake.
Master Freeman, your most humble servant, Sir.

Free.
Oh my little dapper Officer! are you here?

Sir Jos.
Ha, Master Freeman, we have bespoke all the
Jovial entertainment that a merry wag can wish
For, good Meat, good Wine, and a wholesome
Wench or two for the digestion, we shall have
Madam Rampant, the glory of the Town, the
Brightest she that shines, or else my little Rake-hel
Is not a man of his word, Sir.

Rake.
I warrant you she comes, Sir Joslin.

Sir Joslin
sings.
And if she comes, she shall not scape,
If Twenty pounds will win her;
Her very Eye commits a Rape,
'Tis such a tempting sinner.

Enter Courtal.
Court.
Well said, Sir Joslin, I see you hold up still,
And bate not an Ace of your good humor.

Sir Jos.
Noble Master Courtal!

Court.
Bless me, Sir Oliver, what are you going
To act a Droll? how the people would throng
About you, if you were but mounted on a
Few Deal-boards in Covent-Garden now!

Sir Oliv.
Hark you, Ned, this is the Badge of my
Ladies indignation for my last nights offence; do
Not insult over a poor sober man in affliction.

Court.
Come, come, send home for your Cloaths;
I hear you are to have Ladies, and you are not
To learn at these years, how absolutely necessary
A rich Vest and a Perruque are to a man that aims
At their favors.

Sir Oliv.
A Pox on't, Ned, my Ladies gone abroad
In a damn'd jealous melancholly humor, and
Has commanded her woman to secure 'em.

Court.
Under Lock and Key?

Sir Oliv.
Ay, ay, Man, 'tis usual in these cases, out
Of pure Love in hopes to reclaim me, and to
Keep me from doing my self an injury
By drinking two days together.

Court.
What a loving Lady 'tis!

Sir Oliv.
There are Sots that would think themselves
Happy in such a Lady, Ned; but to a true bred
Gentleman all lawful solace is abomination.

Rake.
Mr. Courtal, your most humble servant, Sir.

Court.
Oh! my little Knight of the Industry, I am
Glad to see you in such good company.

Free.
Courtal, hark you, are the Masking-habits
Which you sent to borrow at the Play-house come yet?

Court.
Yes, and the Ladies are almost dress'd:
This design will adde much to our mirth, and give
Us the benefit of their Meat, Wine, and Musick
For our entertainment.

Free.
'Twas luckily thought of.

Sir Oliv.
Hark, the Musick comes.

Musick.
Sir Jos.
Hey Boys—let 'em enter, let 'em enter.

Enter Waiter.
Wait.
An't please your Worships, there is a Mask
Of Ladies without, that desire to have the
Freedom to come in and dance.

Sir Jos.
Hey! Boys—

Sir Oliv.
Did you bid 'em come 'en Masquerade, Mr. Rake-hell?

Rake.
No; but Rampant is a mad Wench, she
Was half a dozen times a mumming in private
Company last Shrove-tide, and I lay my life she has
Put 'em all upon this frolick.

Court.
They are mettled Girls, I warrant them,
Sir Joslin, let 'em be what they will:

Sir Jos.
Let 'em enter, let 'em enter, ha Boys—

Enter Musick, and the Ladies in an Antick, and then they take out; my Lady Cockwood, Sir Oliver; the young Ladies, Courtal and Freeman; and Sentry, Sir Joslin; and dance a set Dance.
Sir Oliv.
Oh my little Rogue! have I got thee?
How I will turn and winde, and fegue thy body!

Sir Jos.
Mettle on all sides, mettle on all sides,
I'faith; how swimmingly would this pretty little
Ambling Filly, carry a Man of my Body!
Sings.

Sir Oliv.
'Tis true, little Joslin, i'faith.

Court.
They have warm'd us, Sir Oliver.

Sir Oliv.
Now am I as rampant as a Lion, Ned,
And could love as vigorously as a Sea-man that
Is newly landed after an East-India Voyage.

Court.
Take my advice, Sir Oliver, do not in your
Rage deprive your self of your onely hope
Of an accommodation with your Lady.

Sir Oliv.
I had rather have a perpetual Civil War,
Then purchase Peace at such a dishonorable rate.
A poor Fidler, after he has been three days persecuted
At a Country-wedding, takes more delight in scraping
Upon his old squeeking Fiddle, then I do in fumbling
On that domestick Instrument of mine.

Court.
Be not so bitter, Sir Oliver, on your
Own dear Lady.

Sir Oliv.
I was married to her when I was young,
Ned, with a design to be baulk'd, as they tye Whelps
To the Bell-weather; where I have been so butted,
'Twere enough to fright me, were I not pure
Mettle, from ever running at Sheep again.

Court.
That's no sure rule, Sir Oliver; for a
Wife's a dish, of which if a man once surfeit, he shall
Have a better stomach to all others ever after.

Sir Oliv.
What a shape is here, Ned! so exact and
Tempting, 'twould perswade a man to be an
Implicite sinner, and take her face upon credit.

Sir Jos.
Come, Brother Cockwood, let us get 'em
To lay aside these Masking Fopperies, and then
We'll fegue 'em in earnest: Give us a Bottle, Waiter.

Free.
Not before Dinner, good Sir Joslin—

Sir Oliv.
Lady, though I have out of Drollery
Put my self into this contemptible dress at present,
I am a Gentleman, and a Man of courage, as you
Shall find anon by my brisk behaviour.

Rake.
Sir Joslin! Sir Oliver! These are none of our
Ladies, they are just come to the door in a Coach, and
Have sent for me down to wait upon e'm up to you.

Sir Jos.
Hey—Boys, more Game, more Game!
Fetch 'em up, fetch 'em up.

Sir Oliv.
Why, what a day day of sport will here be,
Ned?

[Exit Rake-hell.
Sir Jos.
They shall all have fair play, Boys.

Sir Oliv.
And we will match our selves, and make
A prize on't, Ned Courtal and I, against Franck,
Freeman and you Brother Jolly, and Rake-hel
Shall be Judge for Gloves and Silk Stockings, to be
Bestow'd as the Conqueror shall fancy.

Sir Jos.
Agreed, agreed, agreed.

Court.
Free. A match, a match.

Sir Oliv.
Hey—Boys!

[Lady Cockwood counterfeits a fit.
Sentry
pulling off her Mask
O Heavens! my dear Lady!
Help, help!

Sir Oliv.
What's here? Sentry and my Lady!
'Sdeath, what a condition am I in now, Brother Jolly?
You have brought me into this Premunire: For
Heavens sake run down quickly, and send the Rogue
And Whores away. Help, help! Oh help! Dear
Madam, sweet Lady!

[Ex. Sir Joslin, Sir Oliver kneels down by her.
Sent.
Oh she's gone, she's gone!

Free.
Give her more air.

Court.
Fetch a Glass of cold Water, Freeman.

Sir Oliv.
Dear Madam speak, sweet Madam speak.

Sent.
Out upon thee for a vile Hipocrite! thou
Art the wicked Author of all this; who but such a
Reprobate, such an obdurate sinner as thou art,
Could go about to abuse so sweet a Lady?

Sir Oliv.
Dear Sentry, do not stab me with thy words,
But stab me with thy Bodkin rather, that I may here
Dye a sacrifice at her feet, for all my disloyal actions.

Sent.
No, live, live, to be a reproach and a shame
To all Rebellious Husbands; ah, that she had but
My heart! but thou hast bewitch'd her affections;
Thou shouldst then dearly smart for this abominable
Treason.

Gat.
So, now she begins to come to her self.

Aria.
Set her more upright, and bend her a little
Forward.

La. Cock.
Unfortunate Woman! let me go,
Why do you hold me? wou'd I had a Dagger at
My heart, to punish it for loving that ungrateful man.

Sir Oliv.
Dear Madam, were I but worthy
Of your pitty and belief.

La. Cock.
Peace, peace, perfidious Man, I am too
Tame and foolish—Were I every day at the Plays,
The Park, and Mulberry-Garden, with a kind look
Secretly to indulge the unlawful passion of some
Young Gallant; or did I associate my self with the
Gaming Madams, and were every Afternoon at my
Lady Briefs, and my Lady Meanwels at Umbre and
Quebas, pretending ill luck to borrow money of a
Friend, and then pretending good luck to excuse the
Plenty to a Husband, my suspicious demeanor had
Deserv'd this; but I who out of a scrupulous
Tenderness to my Honor, and to comply with thy
Base jealousie, have deny'd my self all those blameless
Recreations, which a vertuous Lady might enjoy,
To be thus inhumanely revis'd in my own person, and
Thus unreasonably rob'd and abus'd in thine too!

Court.
Sure she will take up anon, or crack
Her Mind, or else the Devil's in't.

La. Cock.
Do not stay and torment me with thy
Sight; go, Graceless Wretch, follow thy treacherous
Resolutions, do, and waste that poor stock of comfort
Which I should have at home, upon those your ravenous
Cormorants below: I feel my passion begin to
Swell again.

[She has a little fit agen.
Court.
Now will she get an absolute dominion over
Him, and all this will be my Plague in the end.

Sir Oliver
running up and down
Ned Courtal, Franck Freeman, Cosin
Ariana, and dear Cosin Gatty, for
Heavens sake joyn all, and moderate her passion—
Ah Sentry! forbear thy unjust reproaches, take pity
On thy Master! thou hast a great influence over her,
And I have always been mindful of thy favors.

Sent.
You do not deserve the least compassion,
Nor wou'd I speak a good word for you, but that
I know for all this, 'twill be acceptable to my poor
Lady. Dear Madam, do but look up a little, Sir
Oliver lies at your feet an humble Penitent.

Aria.
How bitterly he weeps! how sadly he sighs!

Gat.
I dare say he counterfeited his sin, and is
Real in his Repentance.

Court.
Compose your self a little, pray Madam;
All this was meer Raillery, a way of talk, which
Sir Oliver being well bred, has learned among
The gay people of the Town.

Free.
If you did but know, Madam, what an odious
Thing it is to be thought to love a Wife in good
Company, you wou'd easily forgive him.

La. Cock.
No, no, 'twas the mild correction which
I gave him for his insolent behavior last night, that
Has encourag'd him agen thus to insult over my
Affections.

Court.
Come, Come, Sir Oliver, out with your
Bosom-secret, and clear all things to your Lady;
Is it not as we have said?

Sir Oliv.
Or may I never have the happiness to be
In her good grace agen; and as for the Harlots,
Dear Madam, here is Ned Courtal, and Franck Freeman,
That have often seen me in company of the
Wicked; let 'em speak, if they ever knew me tempted
To a disloyal action in their lives.

Court.
On my Conscience, Madam, I may more
Safely swear, that Sir Oliver has been constant to
Your Ladiship, then that a Girl of Twelve years old
Has her Maiden-head this warm and ripening Age.

Enter Sir Joslin.
Sir Oliv.
Here's my Brother Jolly too can witness
The loyalty of my Heart, and that I did not intend
Any treasonable practice against your Ladiship
In the least.

Sir Jos.
Unless feguing 'em with a Beer-glass, be
Included in the Statute. Come, Master Courtal, to
Satisfie my Lady, and put her in a little good humor,
Let us sing the Catch I taught you yesterday, that was
Made by a Country Vicar on my Brother Coockwood
And me.


They sing.
Love and Wenching are Toys,
Fit to please Beardless Boys,
Th'are sports we hate worse then a Leaguer;
When we visit a Miss,
We still brag how we Kiss,
But 'tis with a Bottle we fegue her.

Sir Jos.
Come, come, Madam, let all things be
Forgot; Dinner is ready, the Cloath is laid in the
Next Room, let us in and be merry; there was no
Harm meant as I am true little Joslin.

La. Cock.
Sir Oliver knows I can't be angry with
Him, though he plays the naughty man thus: But
Why, my Dear, wou'd y' expose your self in this
Ridiculous habit, to the censure of both our Honors?

Sir Oliv.
Indeed I was to blame to be over-
Perswaded; I intended dutifully to retire into the
Pantry, and there civilly to divert my self at Back-
Gammon with the Butler.

Sir Jos.
Faith, I must ev'n own, the fault was
Mine, I intic'd him hither Lady.

Sir Oliv.
How the Devil, Ned, came they to find
Us out here?

Court.
No Blood-hound draws so sure as a jealous Woman.

Sir Oliv.
I am afraid Thomas has been unfaithful:
Prithee, Ned, speak to my Lady, that there may be
A perfect understanding between us, and that Sentry
May be sent home for my Cloaths, that I may no
Longer wear the marks of her displeasure.

Court.
Let me alone, Sir Oliver.
[He goes to my Lady Cockwood.
How do you find your self, Madam, after
This violent Passion?

La. Cock.
This has been a lucky adventure,
Mr. Courtal; now am I absolute Mistress of
My own conduct for a time.

Court.
Then shall I be a happy man, Madam: I
Knew this wou'd be the consequence of all, and
Yet could not I forbear the project.

Sir Oliv.
How didst thou shuffle away Rake-hel
And the Ladies Brother?

[To Sir Joslin.
Sir Jos.
I have appointed 'em to meet us at six a
Clock at the new Spring-Garden.

Sir Oliv.
Then will we yet, in spight of the Stars
That have cross'd us, be in conjunction with
Madam Rampant, Brother.

Court.
Come, Gentlemen, Dinner is on the Table.

Sir Jos.
Ha! Sly-Girl and Mad-cap, I'll enter
You, i'faith; since you have found the way
To the Bear, I'll fegue you.
Sings.

[Exeunt singing.