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SCENE, Millamour's Lodging. Brazen asleep on a Chair.
MILLAMOUR, (calls several times without—Brazen.)
Why, you incorrigible Rascal, are you not ashamed to sleep at this time of Day? Do you think yourself in Spain, Sirrah, that thus you go regularly to Sleep when others go to Dinner?
Brazen (waking.)
—Truly, Sir, I think he that wakes with the Owl, should rest
with him too.— Spain! Agad, I should live in the Antipodes
, by the Hours I am obliged to keep—Nor do I see why the same Bell,
that rings others to Dinner, should not ring me to Sleep: For, I thank
Heaven and your Honour, Sleep is the only Dinner I have had these two
Days.
Mill.
Cease your Impertinence, and get Things ready to dress me.
Braz.
What Cloaths will your Honour please to wear?
Mill.
Get me the Blue and Silver; or, stay— the Brown and
Gold.—Come back—fetch me the Black; that suits best with my
present Circumstances.
Braz.
I fancy the Lace suits best with your Circumstances.—Most
People in your Honour's Circumstances wear Lace.
Mill.
Harkee, Sir—I have often caution'd you against this
Familiarity—You must part with your Wit, or with your Master.
Braz. (aside.)
That's true—If I had any Wit, I should have parted with him
long ago. No wise Servant will live with a Master who has turned away
his Estate.
Mill.
Get me the lac'd—go immediately—Familiarity is a sort of
Interest which all Servants exact from an indebted Master: And, as
being indebted to a Friend, is the surest way to make him your Enemy,
so making your Servant your Creditor, is the surest way of making him
your Friend.
Mill.
Sirrah, you know I am at home to my Friend, my Mistress, and my
Bawd, at any time.
Mill. (to Braz.)
Do you see what your Blunders are the occasion of?—Come, my angry fair One, lay aside the Terror of your Brows, since it was my Servant's Fault, not mine.
Mrs. Use.Mil.
I know thou art. Thou art as dear to the Women of Fashion as
their Lap-Dogs, or to the Men as their Buffoons.
Mill.
Thou art the First Minister of Venus, the first
Plenipotentiary in Affairs of Love, and thy House is the noble Scene
of the Congress of the two Sexes.—Thou hast united more Couples than
the Alimony-Act has parted, and sent more to bed together, without a
Licence, than any Parson in the Fleet.
Mil.
What, has some notable Whore of thy Acquaintance turn'd Rebel to
thy Power, and listed under the Banners of Hymen?—But be not
disconsolate at thy Loss—My Life to a Farthing she returns to her
Duty.—Whoring is like the Mathematics; whoever is once initiated
into the Science is sure never to leave it.
Sir, after your Behaviour to me, I might not have been strictly obliged to give you any Account of my Actions: However, as it is the last Line you will ever see from me, I have prevail'd with myself to tell you, that your Course of Life has at last determined me to fly to any Harbour from the Danger of you; and accordingly this Morning has given me to a Man, whose Estate and sincere Affections will, in time, produce that Love in my Heart, which your Actions have—have— (this is a damn'd hard Word) have e-ra-di-ca-ted, and make me happy in the Name of
Clarinda Stedfast.
Mrs. Use.Mill.
Think! that I am the most unhappy of Men, and have lost the most
charming of Women.
Mil.
Ay, 'tis very true indeed; for till this Hour I never knew the
Value of Clarinda. (Reads again.) hum! hum!—has
given me to a Man, whose Estate and sincere Affection—by
which I am to understand that my Rival is some very rich old
Fellow—two excellent Qualifications for a Husband and a Cuckold, as
one could wish.
Mill.
Oh! couldst thou tell her half my Tenderness or my Pain, thou
must invent a Language to express them.—
Mil.
I had rather trust to your Rhetoric: The Paper, I am sure, will
carry no more than I put into it;—but for thee—
Mil.
I dare trust thee; thou lovest the Game too well to spoil it.
Mil.
Oh! no one writes worse than a real Lover. For Love, like
Honesty, appears generally most beautiful in the Hypocrite. In
painting the Mind, as well as the Face, Art generally goes beyond
Nature.
Mil.
Yes; but, my Dear, I am no more resolute to give up my Liberty to
the one, than my Life to the other;—and if nothing but my Marriage
or my Death can preserve them—agad, I believe I shall continue in
Statuquo, be the Consequence what it will.—
Mill.
Sirrah—admit all Ladies whatsoever.
Mil.
Why so?
Mil.
Out of Tenderness for my Reputation, I suppose—But that's safe
enough with you; and as for your Reputation, it is safe enough with
any one.—Reputation, like the Small-Pox, gives you but one Pain in
your Life. When you have had the one, and lost the other, you may
venture with Safety where you please.
I believe, Cousin, this is a Relation of ours you don't know; give me leave to introduce you to one another.—Cousin Useful, this is my Cousin Plotwel; Cousin Plotwel, this is my Cousin Useful. (The Ladies salute.) But come, Relations should never meet with dry Lips.—Here —Brazen—bring a Bottle of Usquebaugh.—
Both Wom.
Not a Drop for me.—
Mil.
Come, come, it will do you no harm.—Well, Cousin, and how did
you leave all our Relations in the North? Have you brought me
no Letters?
Mrs. Use. (aside.)
Cousin! this is a Sister of mine, I believe—We are both of the
same Trade, my Life on't.
Mill. (to Brazen, who enters with a Bottle.)
Sirrah, fill the Ladies—do you hear—(He takes a letter
from Plotwel and opens it.)
Sir, after so many Vows and Protestations, I should be surprized at the Falshood of any one but so great a Villain as yourself: But, as I have been long since certain, that you have not one Virtue in your whole Mind, that you are a Compound of all that is bad, and that you are the greatest Tyrant, and the falsest and most perjur'd Wretch upon Earth, I can expect no other. If you deserve not this and ten times worse, make haste to acquit yourself to the injur'd
Lucina.
Mrs. Plot.Mil.
She is very inquisitive about my Health,— complains of my not
writing.—There's no Secret in't—I'll read it for your Diversion—
Mil.
My dear Nephew, I suppose it impossible for so fine a
Gentleman, amidst the Hurry of the Beau Monde, to think of an
old Aunt in Northumberland; yet sure you might sometimes find
an Opportunity to let one know a little how the World goes
—Pshaw! I'll read no more—These Country Relations think their
Friends in Town obliged to furnish them with continual Matter for the
Scandal of their Tea-Tables. Has the old Lady no Female Acquaintance?
—They would take as much Pleasure in writing Desamation as she in
reading it. For my Part, I'll never trouble myself with others
Business, till I can mind my own, nor about others Sins, till I have
left off my own.—
Mil.
Never while I have the same Mind to tempt me to Sin, and the same
Constitution to support me in it.—For Sins, like Places at Court,
we seldom resign, till we can keep them no longer.
Mil.
Not I, faith. Your Aunt's Letter shall answer itself. Send it
back to the old Lady again, and write my Duty to her on the back Side
on't.
Mil.
Well, Sir; what, another Cousin?—Do you hear, Sirrah, I am at
home to no more Female Relations this Morning.
Braz.
Sir, Mr. Heartfort is below.
Mil.
Desire him to walk up.
Mil.
Positively.—And, hearkee—tell the enraged fair One, she hath
made a double Conquest: Her Beauty got the better of my Reason, and
now her Anger hath got the better of my Love.—Give my humble
Service to her, and when she comes to herself again, tell her I am
come to my self.
Mil.
So there's your Dispatch—and now for my other Cousin.
Mil.
You may carry her this again.—Tell her I will have nothing to
put me in mind of her—and this Kiss, which I send her by you, shall
be the last Token she shall have to awaken the Remembrance of me.
Mil.
Suppose! Oh! thou dear Creature, suppose I gave thee Worlds to
reward thee.
Mil.
Thus Men of Business dispatch Attendants.—And in Female Affairs
I believe few have more Business than myself.—The Grand Signor is
but a petty Prince in Love, compared to me.— But tho' I have
disguised my Uneasiness before this Woman, Clarinda lies deeper
in my Heart than I could wish. There is something in that dear Name
gives me a Sensation quite different from that of any other
Woman.—The Thought of seeing her another's stings me to the very
Soul.
Millamour, Heartfort.
Heart.
What, is your Levee dispatch'd? I met antiquated Whores going out
of your Door as thick as antiquated Courtiers from the Levee of a
Statesman, and with as disconsolate Faces.—I fancy thou hast done
nothing for them.
Mil.
Thus it will ever be, Jack, where there are a Multitude of
Attendants. The Lover no more than the Statesman can do every Man's
Business.
Heart.
Thou dost as many People's Business as any Man in Town, I dare
swear.
Mil.
I believe no one tastes more the Sweets of Love—
Heart.
Nor any more its Bitters, than I— Oh! Millamour, I am
the most unhappy of Mankind—I have lost the Mistress of my Soul.
Mil.
Ay—and I have lost two Mistresses of my Soul.
Heart.
The Woman I doat on to Distraction is to be married this day to
another.
Mil.
A Reprieve, a Reprieve, in comparison of my Fate: The Woman I
doat on was married this morning to another.
Heart.
Thou knowest not what it is to love tenderly.
Mil.
No, Faith; not very tenderly—not without a great deal of
Discretion—Here lies the Difference between us: You, Heartfort
, have Discretion in every thing but Love—I have Discretion in
nothing else.—Mine is a true English Heart; it is an equal
Stranger to the Heat of the Equator and the Frost of the Pole
. Love still nourishes it with a temperate Heat, as the Sun doth our
Climate; and Beauties rise after Beauties in the one, just as Fruits
do in the other.
Heart.
Is it impossible to engage thee to be serious a moment?
Mil.
Faith, I believe it would on this Subject, if I did not know thy
Temper.
Heart.
The Loss of a Mistress may indeed seem trifling to thee, who hast
lost a thousand.
Mil.
The Devil take me, if I have.—I have found it always much
easier to get Mistresses, than to lose them. Women would be charming
Things, Heartfort, if, like Cloaths, we could lay them by when
we are weary of them; since, like Cloaths, we are often weary of them
before they are worn out. But this Curse attends a Multiplicity of
Amours, that a Man is sometimes forced to support his whole Wardrobe
on his Back at once.
Heart.
My Passion, Sir, will not bear Raillery.
Mil.
I am sorry for it.—Raillery is a sort of Test to our Passions:
When they will not bear that, they are dangerous indeed—Therefore
I'll indulge your Infirmity, and for your sake will be grave on a
Subject, which I could never be serious on for my own.—So, lay open
your Wound, and I'll give you the best Advice I can.
Heart.
I am enough acquainted with your Temper, Millamour, to
know my Obligations to you for this Compliance.—And after all,
perhaps my Case requires rather your Pity than Advice; for the last
Word I had from my Mistress was, that she hated me of all Men living.
Mil.
Hum!—faith, I think your Case requires neither Pity nor Advice.
Mil.
Hardly, if it be so violent.
Heart.
I take its Violence to be a Reason for its Change; but I have a
better from Experience, for she formerly has told me, that she loved
me of all Men living.
Mil.
And what has caused this great Revolution in her Temper?
Heart.
Oh! I defy all Philosophy to account for one of her Actions. You
might easier solve all the Phænomena of Nature, than of her
Mind. All the insight you can get into her future Thoughts by her
present is, that what she says to-day, she will infallibly contradict
to-morrow.
Mil.
So, if she promis'd your Rival yesterday, you may depend upon her
discarding him to-day.
Heart.
But then she has a Father, whose Resolution is immoveable as the
Predestinarian's Fate, who has given me as positive a Denial as
his Daughter, and is this day determin'd to bestow her on another,
whom he has preferr'd to me.
Mil.
For the old Reason, I suppose—because he is richer.
Heart.
No, upon my Word; for a very new Reason—because he is a greater
Rake. For you must know, that this mighty unalterable Will, which is
as fixed as the Persian Laws, is determined with as little
Reason as the Resolutions of some Countries which are less
stable.—In short, Sir, he hath laid it down as a Maxim, that all Men
are wild at one Period of Life or another; so he resolved never to
marry his Daughter but to one who hath already passed that
Period.—At last, the young Lady's good Stars and his great Wisdom
have led him to the Choice of—Mr. Mutable.
Mil.
What, our Mutable!
Heart.
The very same—tho' I have reason to believe she hath as great
an Aversion for him as for me. There is some other, Millamour,
hath supplanted me in her Heart, whom I have not yet been able to
discover; for to this Match she is compell'd by her Father.
Mil.
So you are a Stranger to the Man she loves; you have only
discover'd her Husband.
Heart.
Ten thousand Horrours are in that Name.
Mil.
Hum!—faith, to him I think there may; but if the Possession of
your Mistress's Person be all you desire, I can't see how you are a
whit the farther from that by this Match; and as to the first Favour,
I should not be much concern'd about that. —If a Man would keep a
Coach for my use, I think it is but a small indulgence, to let him
take the first Airing in it.
Heart.
Oh! do not trifle. An Hour, a Minute, a Moment's Delay may be my
Ruin.—Could I but see her before the Marriage, this Compulsion of
her Father's might throw her into my Arms.— But he is resolved she
shall be married on the same day with himself, and he hath this
morning taken a second Wife.—Oh! Millamour, thou hast a
lively Imagination—Set it at work for thy Friend; for, by Heaven, I
never can have any Happiness but in Miss Stedfast's Arms.
Mil.
Miss Stedfast!—and her Father married this
Morning!—Oh! my Friend, if I don't invent for thee, may I never be
happy in Mrs. Stedfast's Arms.
Heart.
What do you mean?
Mil.
It is as fixed as your Father-in-law's most confirmed Will, that
he is to be the Cuckold of your humble Servant. Take Courage; the
D—l's in't if he robs us both of our Mistresses in one day, Mine he
has got already—and much Good may she do him.
Heart.
Is it possible?
Mil.
Ay, faith. This Father-in-law of yours that was to be, and that
shall be too, hath outstrip'd me in the Race, and is gotten to the
Goal before me.
Heart.
You are a happy Man, Millamour, who can be so easy in the
Loss of your Mistress.
Mil.
Ay, and of a Mistress thou hast heard me toast so often, and talk
so tenderly, so fondly of— in the Loss of Clarinda.
Heart.
The D—l! was Miss Lovely your Clarinda.
Mil.
Ay, Sir, Miss Lovely, Mrs. Stedfast now, was my
Clarinda, and is my Clarinda;—and Miss Stedfast
shall be yours.
Heart.
Keep but your Word there, Millamour.
Mil.
Lookee, Heartfort, if she hath a mind to see you, I'll
send for an Engine that shall convey you thither, in spite of all the
Fathers in Europe.
Heart.
But the Time—
Mil.
If you will step in with me while I dress, Brazen shall
fetch the Person immediately. Come, be not dejected; we shall be too
hard for all, I warrant you.
Heart.
Yet how do I know but every Moment may be the cursed Period of my
Ruin.—Perhaps this Instant gives her to another.
Mil.
It cannot give her Inclinations; and, as I have heard thee say,
thy Mistress hath Wit and Beauty, depend upon it these Qualities will
never be confined in the Arms of a Man she doth not like. Pursue her
and she must fall. Decency may guard her a Honey-Moon or two, but she
will be yours at last. Never think a celebrated Beauty, when she is
married, is deceas'd for ever.—No, rather imagine her setting in her
Husband's Bed, as Poets make the Sun do in that of Thetis,
SCENE, Lucina's Lodging.
Distraction! Send me back my Letter! Is not Falshood enough, must he add Insult to it? Oh! may eternal Furies haunt him! may all the Horrours of Despair attend his Guilt! may he be so wretched that Hell itself may sicken with Revenge!
Mrs. Plot.Luc.
Sure it is impossible—He could not be so great a Villain—You
never carried him my Letter— He, that has sworn so many Vows of
Constancy—
Luc.
Oh! Plotwel, had I but known thee sooner! had I but known
a Friend like you, who could have armed my unexperienc'd Soul against
the wicked Arts of this deceitful Man—
Luc.
Oh! Plotwel, thou art well skill'd in the Wiles of the
Sex: I wonder thou couldst be deceived.
Luc.
He must have been a Man of uncommon Sense, who work'd your Ruin.
Luc.
I am surprised, that in all our Acquaintance, tho' you have often
mentioned your Misfortunes, you have carefully avoided entering into
the Cause of them.
Luc.
I can't find any thing uncommon in these Circumstances; for I was
undone just the same way myself.
Luc.
But could any thing be so strange as your staying twenty Years in
Paris, without seeking after him.
Plot.
I heard the same Year he was slain at the Battle of Beligrade
.—But I think it much more strange in you, after staying a Year at
Paris, to come a hunting after your Lover. For a Woman to pursue,
is for the Hare to follow the Hounds; a Chase opposite to the Order of
Nature, and can never be successful. A Woman is as sure of not
overtaking the Lover who flies from her, as of being overtaken by a
Lover who flies after her.
Luc.
Well, I'm resolved to see him. If I reap no other Advantage from
it, I shall have at least the Pleasure of thundering my Injuries in
his Ear.—
SCENE, The Street. Millamour, Hearfort, Brazen.
Mil.
Your calling on me was lucky enough; you could have been directed
to none properer for your Purpose than this Woman; for tho' her Body
will scarce go thro' the Door, yet she has Dexterity enough to go
thro' the Key-hole.—But let me tell you, that Dexterity must be put
in motion by Gold, or it will remain in Rest.
Heart.
She shall not want that. When my Charlotte's at stake,
Fortune or Life are Trifles to the Adventurer.
Mil.
Well, for a sober grave Man of Sense, thou art something violent
in thy Passion. I always thought Love as foreign to a speculative Man,
as Religion to an Atheist.
Heart.
Perhaps it may; for I believe the Atheist is as often insincere
in his Contempt of Religion, as the other in his Contempt of Woman.
There are Instances of Men who have professed themselves Despisers of
both, that have at length been found kneeling at their Shrines.
Mil.
Those are two things I never intend to trouble my Head about the
Theory of—I shall content myself with the Practice—
Heart.
With the Practice of one, I dare swear.
Mil.
In my Youth, I believe I shall; and for being old, I desire it
not. I would have the Fires of Life and Love go out together. What is
Life worth without Pleasure? and what Pleasure is there out of the
Arms of a Mistress? All other Joys are Dreams to that. Give me the
fine, young, blooming Girl—Cheeks blushing, Eyes sparkling—Give
me her, Heartfort—
Heart.
Take her with all my Heart. come, Mr. Brazen, you are to
conduct me another Way.
Mil.
You are too soon for Mrs. Useful's Appointment.
Heart.
No matter—here is one coming I would avoid.
Mil.
Ha! Your Rival—Nay, you have no reason to be angry with him:
You tell me, he is as averse to the Match as yourself: You cannot
expect he should be disinterested out of Complaisance.
Heart.
It is for that Reason I would avoid him. I am not Master enough
of my Passions—besides, I hate Lying and Impertinence—I can't bear
to hear a Fellow run on with his Intimacy with this Duke and that
Lord, whom he has never spoke to, and, perhaps, never seen.
Mil.
A more innocent Vanity at least, than the boasting of Favours
from Women, tho' with Truth, as I have known some Men of Sense do;
which is a Vanity indulged at the Expence of another's Reputation.
Heart.
Faith, and I take the other to be equally as destructive of
Reputation; for I can't see why it should more reflect on a Woman, to
be great with a Man of Sense, than on a Man of Sense to be great with
a Fool.
Mil.
Pshaw!—thou art as serious in thy Criticisms on Life, as a dull
Critic on the Drama. I prefer laughing sometimes at a Farce and
a Fool, to being entertained with the most regular Performances, or
the Conversation of Men of the best Sense.
Heart.
In my Opinion, Laughing at Fools is engaging them at their own
Weapons; for a Fool always laughs at those who laugh at him, nay, and
oftener gets the Laugh of his Side, because there are in the World
Abundance of Fools to one who is otherwise. In short, it is dangerous
to ridicule Folly any where openly; as to speak against Mahometism
in Turkey, or Popery in Rome.—But he is
here—Good Morrow.
Millamour, Heartfort, Mutable, Brazen.
Mut.
Nay, 'foregad, Heartfort, you shall not run away from
me—Pox take your Mistress, I would not lose a Friend for all the
Sluts in Town— Pshaw! damn them, they are plenty enough—If thou
can'st persuade my Father off the Match, I did not care if the Devil
had her.
Heart.
Hearkee, Sir, on your Life, do not utter a prophane Word of her.
Mut.
Well then, I wish you had her, or the Devil had her—Its equal
to me—'Tis so difficult to please you—I must like her, and I must
not like her.
Mil.
Ay, Mutable, to content a passionate Lover is as difficult
as to sail between Scylla and Charybdis: You must fall
into one Extreme or other.
Heart.
Tho' I would have Charlotte only mine, yet I could not
bear to hear her slighted by another.
Mil.
Well, Mutable, doth this early Sally of yours proceed from
having been in Bed early, or from not being in Bed at all.
Mut.
Not at all, agad—That Lord Bouncer is an everlasting
Sitter.
Mil.
Who had you with you?
Mut.
There was myself, three Lords, two Baronets, four Whores, and a
Justice of Peace. His Worship, indeed, did not sit late; he was
obliged to go home at Three to take a Nap, to be sober at the
Sessions—
Mil.
And punish Wickedness and Debauchery.
Mut.
Millamour, was you ever in Company with my Lord Grig
?—He is the merriest Dog—We had such diversion between him and the
Duke of Fleetstreet—Ha! ha! ha! says the Duke to me—Jack
Mutable, says he—ha! ha! ha! what do you think of my Lord
Grig? Why, my Lord Duke, says I, what of my Lord Grig? Why,
says my Lord Duke again, he is damnably in Love with my Lady Pidle
.—You know my Lady Pidle, Millamour—she is a Prude, you
know; and that puts me in mind of what Sir John Gubble told me
t'other day at White's—
Heart.
Death and Damnation! This is insupportable. Come, Mr. Brazen
—
Millamour, Mutable.
Mut.
White's—Now, I mention White's, I must send an
Excuse to my Lord Goodland. He invited me two days ago, to dine
with him to day.
Mil.
Two days ago!—why, he went into the Country a week since.
Mut.
Nay, then Sir Charles Wiseall was mistaken, for he
deliver'd me the Message yesterday; which is a little strange,
methinks.
Mil.
Ay, faith, it is very strange; for he has been in Scotland
this Fortnight.
Mut.
How!
Mil.
It is even so, I assure you.
Mut.
Then, as sure as I am alive, I dream't all this. Oh! but may I
wish you Joy yet. They tell me you are going to be married.
Mil.
Who told you so?
Mut.
Hum!—that I can't remember. It was either the Dutchess of
Holbourn, or Lady Chatter, or Lady Scramble, or—
Mil.
No, you dream't it; a sure Sign it will not happen.
Mut.
Heyday! Where's Heartfort gone?
Mil.
He can't bear a successful Rival.
Mut.
Poor Devil! I pity him heartily. And I pity myself; for, I
protest, I am as sorry at winning her, as he can be at losing her.
Mil.
But, is there no way of persuading the old Gentleman off?
Mil.
Ay, is he so fond of Quality?
Mut.
Oh! most passionately. You must know, he hesitates even at this
Match on that account; nay, I believe, notwithstanding her Fortune, he
would prefer a Woman of Quality for his Daughter-in-law, tho' she was
not worth a Groat.
Mil.
Ha! 'Sdeath! I have a Thought—but mum—he's here.
Old Mutable, Young Mutable, Millamour.
O. Mut.
Ha! Jacky, have I found you out at last. It is so long
since I was in Town, I had almost lost myself. But, hearkee,—who's
that fine Gentleman? Hey!
Y. Mut.
Oh! one of the Lords I told you I converse with—an intimate
Acquaintance of mine. I'll introduce you to him, Sir.—My Lord, this
is my Father, my Lord—
O. Mut.
At your Lordship's Service, my Lord.
Mil.
Sir, I am exceedingly glad to see you in Town.
O. Mut.
I am exceedingly obliged to your Lordship—My Lord, I am vastly
unworthy so great an Honour.
Y. Mut.
You will excuse my Father, my Lord: As he has liv'd in the
Country most of his Time, he does not make quite so fine a Bow as we
do.
O. Mut.
My Son says true, my Lord. I have lived most of my Time in the
Country, the greater my Misfortune, and my Father's Crime, my
Lord.—But, I thank my Stars, my Son cannot charge me with stinting
his Education. Alas! my Lord, it must be done betimes.—A Man an
never be sent into the World too soon.— What can they learn at
Schools or Universities?— No, no, I sent my Boy to Town at sixteen,
and allowed him wherewithal to keep the best Company. And, I thank my
Stars, I have lived to see him one of the finest Gentlemen of his Age.
Y. Mut.
Ah! Dear Sir, your most obedient humble Servant.
Mil.
It is owing, Sir, to such wise Parents as you, that the present
Age abounds with such fine Gentlemen as it does. Our dull Forefathers
were either rough Soldiers, pedantic Scholars, or clownish Farmers.
And it was as difficult to find a fine Gentleman among us then, as it
is a true Briton among us now.
O. Mut.
I am very proud, my Lord, to find my Son in such Company as your
Lordship's.
Mill.
Dear Sir, the Honour is on my Side, I assure you.
O. Mut.
'Sbud! Your Men of Quality are the civillest sort of People upon
Earth.
Mil.
And, I believe, my Sister is of the same Opinion.
Y. Mut.
His Sister! (aside)
O. Mut.
I am extremely bound to your good Lordship.
Mil.
I see you are shy of speaking; but I do not at all think it
beneath the Honour of my House to marry into a worthy Family with a
competent Estate, though there be no Title.
O. Mut.
My Lord!
Mill.
And since my Sister has condescended to receive the Addresses of
your Son, I shall not oppose the Match.
O. Mut.
I am surpriz'd, my Lord.—
Mil.
Nay, Sir, you cannot be surpriz'd; for certainly Mr. Mutable
has more Honour, than to have proceeded so far without acquainting
you.
Y. Mut. (aside)
This is not the first Woman I have been in Love with, without
seeing.
O. Mut.
Oh, fie upon you, Jacky, why did you not tell me of
this—I'll go break off the other Match this Moment. My Lord, I
cannot express the very grateful Sentiments I have of this great
Honour, my Lord—
Mil.
I shall be glad to see you at my House; in the mean time Mr.
Mutable may have as free Access to my Sister as he pleases.
Y. Mut.
Dear my Lord, I am your most obedient humble Servant.
O. Mut.
I and mine, my Lord, are eternally obliged to your Goodness; and
I hope my Son is as sufficiently sensible as my self.—I will just go
do a little Business, and then, Jacky, I'll come to this
Place, and you shall carry me to wait on his Lordship.—Be sure to
be here, or I shall not be able to find you.—In the mean time I am
your Lordship's very obedient, devoted, humble Servant, to command.
Millamour, Mutable.
Millamour.
Well, have I not managed the old Gentleman finely—
Y. Mut.
Yes; but, as my Lord Twitter says, how shall we carry it
on?
Mil.
That I am thinking. Suppose I get somebody to personate my
Sister—I see your Father is of a good, easy, credulous Disposition,
and not altogether so inflexible as your Father-in-law—
Y. Mut.
No, hang him; he never kept a Resolution two Minutes in his Life.
He is the very Picture of my Lord Shatterbrain; and you know my
Lord Shatterbrain is very famous for breaking his Word. I have
made forty Engagements with him, and he never kept one; then, the next
time we met,—Jack Mutable, says he, I know you'll pardon
me—I have such a Memory—but there's Sir George Goose has
just such another too—but George is a comical Dog, that's the
Truth on't—There was he and I and the Duke—
Mil.
Hearkee, I have thought how the thing shall be conducted.
Heartfort's House shall pass for mine; thither do you bring your
Father; you shall find a Lady ready to receive you.—But you must
remember to behave to her as if you were old Acquaintance. I will
instruct her how to answer you. So, go now and expect your Father, and
remember to give me the Title of Lord Truelove.
Mil.
Agad, I din'd with Sir John Truelove about four days ago;
and how many Bottles do you think we sat?
Mil.
Twenty Dozen, if you will.
Y. Mut.
No, faith, not that—not that quite. I brought off four to my
own Share tho'; and so drunk was my Lord Puzzle—ha! ha! ha!
and so mad—
Mil.
But if thou art not quite drunk or mad thyself, prithee do mind
thy Business; for, if you stay one Moment longer, I'll fling up the
Affair.
Y. Mut.
I go, I go. My Lord Truelove, your Servant.—Foregad, Sir
John is one of the merriest dogs in Christendom.
Millamour solus.
Go thy way, Guillim display'd—Thou Catalogue of the Nobility—'Sdeath, I fancy 'tis the Vanity of such Fools as this that makes Men proud of a Title, without any other Merit. Now, if I can but match this Spark with my Northumberland Cousin, I shall handsomely be quit of a troublesome Relation.—And, faith, I think the Arms of a rich Fool are a sort of Hospital, proper to every Woman who has worn out her Reputation in the Service.
Mrs. Stedfast's House.
Charlotte, speaking to Mrs. Useful, who goes out, and returns with Heartfort.
Well, well, tell the Wretch, I will see him, to give him another final Answer, since he will have it. Poor Creature! how little he suspects who is his Rival.—Oh! Millamour, thou hast given this Heart of mine more Sighs in one Week, than it ever yet felt—nay, than it hath ever made any other feel.—How shall I let him know my Passion, or how avoid this Match intended for me by my Father! Well, Sir, how often must I tell you, I won't have you, I can't have you?
Heart.
Madam, as you have often told me the contrary, I think you should
give some Reason why you will not have me.
Char.
I tell you a Reason—I hate you.
Heart.
I might expect a better Reason for that Hate than the Violence of
my Love.
Char.
Oh! the best Reason in the World. I hate every thing that is
ridiculous, and there is nothing so ridiculous as a real Lover.
Heart.
Methinks, Gratitude might produce the highest Affection.
Char.
Your humble Servant, sweet Sir—Gratitude!—that implies an
Obligation; but how am I obliged to you for loving me? I did not ask
you to love me—did I?—I can't help your loving me; and if one was
to have every one that loves one, one must have the whole Town.
Heart.
Can my Torments make you merry, Madam?
Char.
Oh! no certainly; for you must know, I am extravagantly
good-natur'd: Nor can you yourself say, that I have not begg'd you to
get off the Wreck: But you would have me take you off in my Arms,
like an odious ridiculous Creature, as you are.
Heart.
Give me my Reason again; untie me from the Magic Knot you have
bound me in; for whilst you hold me fast within your Chains, 'tis
barbarous to bid me take my Freedom.
Char.
Chains!—sure being in Love is something like being in the
Galleys; and a Lover, like other Slaves, is the Subject of no other
Passion but Pity: Nay, they are even more contemptible—they are
meer Insects. One gives Being to Thousands with a Smile, and takes it
away again with a Frown. A celebrated Physician might as well grieve
at the Death of every Patient, as a celebrated Toast at the Death of
every Lover; and then it would be impossible for either of them ever
to have dry Eyes.
Heart.
Come, come, Madam; the World are not all so deaf to Reason as I
am. There are those who can see your Faults, tho' I can't—can weigh
Affectation against Beauty, and Ill-nature against Wit.
Char.
They are inseparable. No one has Beauty without Affectation, nor
Wit without Ill-Nature. But Lovers, you know, only see Perfections.
All Things look white to Love, as they do yellow to the Jaundice.
Heart.
This cool Insensibility is worse than Rage.
Char.
It would be cruel indeed to add to the Fire. I would extinguish
your Passion, Sir, since this is the last time it can blaze in Public,
without Prejudice to my Reputation.
Heart.
Sure, you can't resolve to marry a Fool.
Heart.
Was that the Affection you had for a Man who would have
sacrificed himself and the whole World to you?
Clarinda, Charlotte, Heartfort.
Clar.
Fie! Charlotte, how can you use him so barbarously? Poor
Heartfort! I protest, I pity you sincerely.
Char.
Indeed, Clarinda,—for I shall never call you Mother—I
am come to an Age, wherein I shall not follow your Advice in disposing
of myself; nor am I more forward to ask your Opinion, than you was to
ask mine, when you married my Father.
Clar.
My dear Charlotte, you shall never have more cause to
repent my Marriage, than I believe you would have to repent your own
with this Gentleman.
Heart.
My Life, Madam, is a poor Sacrifice to such Goodness.
Char.
Dear Creature! if the old Gentleman your Husband was here, you
would make him jealous on his Wedding-Day.—Besides, it is barbarous
in you to blame me, for he hath taken a Resolution to give me to Mr.
Mutable; and you know, or you will know before you have been
married to him long, that, when once he hath resolved on any thing, it
is impossible to alter him.
Stedfast, Heartfort, Clarinda.
Stedfast.
Heyday! What here's to do? I thought I had forbidden you my
House. Am I not Master of my own House?
Heart.
No, Sir, nor ever will, while you have two such fine Ladies in
it.
Sted.
Sir, if I had two Empresses in it, my Word should be a Law—And
I can tell you, Sir, I will have Blunderbusses in it, and Constables
too, if I see you in it any more.
Clar.
Nay, pray, my Dear, do not try to shock him more; Charlotte
hath us'd him ill enough already.
Sted.
Hearkee, Madam, my Dear, I must give you a Piece of Advice on our
Wedding-Day:—Never offer to interrupt me, nor presume to give your
Opinion in any thing till ask'd.—If Nature hath made any thing in
vain, it is the Tongue of a Woman. Women were designed to be seen, and
not heard; they were formed only to please our Eyes.
Char.
You will be singularly happy, my Dear, with a Husband who marries
to please no Sense but his Eyes.
Clar.
I do not doubt being as happy with him as I desire.
Sted.
This is another Thing I must warn you of—Never to whisper in my
Presence.—Whispering no one uses but with an ill design. I made a
Resolution against Whispering at Sixteen, and have never whispered
since.
Heart.
Yes, Sir, and if you had made a Resolution to hang yourself,
others would have been equally obliged to follow the Example.
Sted.
I wish you would resolve to go out of my Doors, Sir; or I shall
take a Resolution which may not please you. Madam, if you have not
given this Gentleman a final Discharge already, do it now.
Char.
You hear, Sir, what my Father says, therefore I desire you would
immediately leave us, and not think of returning again.
Heart.
Not certain Death should deter me from from obeying your
Commands; nor would that Sentence give me equal Pain, pronounced from
any other's Lips, with this Banishment, from yours.
Stedfast, Clarinda, Charlotte.
Clar.
Go thy ways, for a pretty Fellow.
Sted.
Go thy ways, for an Hypocrite. We shall have that Fellow turn
Rake at Forty. The Seeds of Raking are in him, and one time or other
they will break out. Rakery is a Disease in the Blood, which every
Man is born with, and the sooner it shews itself, the better.
Char.
But I hope, Sir, since I have complied with your Commands, in
dispatching one Lover, you will comply with my Desires, in delaying my
Alliance with another.
Sted.
As for that, you may be very easy: So you are married to day, I
care not what Hour.
Char.
Why to Day, Sir?
Sted.
Because I have resolv'd it, Madam.
Char.
One Day sure would make no Difference.
Sted.
Madam, I have said it.
Clar.
Let me interceed for so short a Reprieve.
Sted.
I am fixed.
Char.
Consider, my whole Happiness is at stake.
Sted.
If the Happiness of the World was at stake, I would not alter my
Resolution.
Sted.
Shew him up. Go you two in—Daughter, be sure and make yourself
ready. I have not yet resolv'd the Hour of marrying you, but it shall
be this Afternoon; for I am determined to keep both our
Wedding-Suppers together.
Stedfast, Old Mutable.
Sted.
Mr. Mutable, your Servant. Odso! where's the
Bridegroom?—He is a little too backward for a young Fellow: The
Bride has reason to take it amiss.
O. Mut.
Nay, Mr. Stedfast, if she or you take any thing amiss, we
cannot help that.
Sted.
Pugh! I was in Jest with thee: She shall take nothing amiss, for
I am resolv'd on the Match.
O. Mut.
Truly, I am sorry for it.
Sted.
Ha! sorry—for what?
O. Mut.
Since it must be known, what signifies Hesitation?—My Son is
pre-engag'd, Sir.
Sted.
How, Sir, pre-engag'd!
O. Mut.
Yes, Sir, to a young Lady of Beauty and Fortune—and, what is
more, a Lady of Quality. I assure you, Sir, I did not know one word
of it when our Bargain was made; which I am sorry for, and heartily
ask your Pardon.
Sted.
And is this the manner you treat me in, after I have refused such
Offers for your Son's sake?
O. Mut.
The Match was none of my own Choice; but if Quality will drop
into one's Lap—
Sted.
Ay, Quality may drop into your Lap or your Pocket either, and not
make them one bit the heavier—And pray, who is this great Lady of
Quality?
O. Mut.
I know nothing more of her, than that she is a Lord's Sister.
Sted.
Hath she no Name then?
O. Mut.
Yes, Sir, I suppose she hath a Name, tho' I don't know it.
O. Mut.
I do not know that either.
Sted.
Your very humble Servant, Sir—I honour your Profundity: If the
Lady's Quality be equal to your Wisdom, Goatham and
Fleetstreet will be in strict Alliance—Sir, I admire your Son;
for tho' it it is probable he may get nothing by the Bargain, I find
he has Sense enough to outwit his Father; and he may laugh at you,
while all the World laughs at him.
O. Mut.
What do you mean, Sir?
Sted.
Stay till your Daughter be brought home, she will explain my
Meaning, I warrant you—she will bring you both Extremes, my Life
on't—Quality in the Kennel and Fortune in the Air.
O. Mut.
Hum! if it should prove so—Sir, the Match is not compleated.
Sted.
No, Sir; you are very capable of breaking it off, we see—
Sted.
He may cancel them, if he pleases, and hang himself when he has
done.
O. Mut.
Stay, Sir, I am not determin'd in this Affair—
Sted.
Nor in any, I am sure—but I am; and you must give up your
Pretensions one way or other this Moment.
O. Mut.
Then I stand by the securest—So desire the Lawyer to walk
in—I hope you will forgive me, Mr. Stedfast, what's past.
Sted.
Ay, Sir, more for my own sake than yours; for had I not resolv'd
on the Match, I might have taken other Measures.
Old Mutable, Stedfast, Prig.
O. Mut.
Come, Sir, I am ready to sign Articles.
Sted.
Where's Mr. Squeezepurse your Master?
Sted.
Sir, I am the best Judge of that—I have resolv'd never to sign
any thing without your Master.
Prig.
It is the very same thing, I assure you— The Writings are fully
drawn, and any Witness may do as well as my Master.
Sted.
Your Master is a negligent Puppy, and uses me doubly ill—first,
in staying away, and then in sending such an impertinent Coxcomb to
dispute with me.
O. Mut.
I believe, Mr. Stedfast, we may do it.
Sted.
Excuse me, Sir, I shall not alter my Resolves—Therefore go to
your Master, and tell him to come to me immediately; for I will not
sign without him, that I am resolv'd.
O. Mut.
In the mean while, I'll step just by and call my Son, that we may
meet with no further Interruption.
Sted.
Then, Sir, go and give my humble Service to the Taylor, and tell
him to send them half done or undone; for I am resolv'd to have them
put on to day, tho' they are thrown like Blankets over their
Shoulders, and my Equipage should look like the Retinue of a
Morocco Ambassador.
SCENE the Street.
Heartfort, Millamour, Mutable.
Though I fear my Fortune desperate, yet is my Obligation infinite to you, my dear Millamour, for this Trouble.
Mut.
And to me too.—Agad I have run the Hazard of being disinherited
on your Account—As for the Wife, the Loss is not great; but I have
a real Value for the Estate.
Mil.
Come, Faith, Heartfort, thou must confess thy self oblig'd
to him; he hath done what is in his Power.
Heart.
I thank him—And, in Return, Mutable, let me give you a
Piece of Advice—Leave off that ridiculous Quality of pretending an
Acquaintance with Men of Fashion, whom thou hast never seen, for two
Reasons—First, no one believes you—Nor, if you were believed,
would any one esteem you for it—Because all the Prize-fighters,
Jockeys, Gamesters, Pimps, and Buffoons in England have the
same Honour.
Mut.
Ha, ha, ha, this is very merry, very facetious Faith—Egad,
Millamour, if I did not know that Heartfort keeps the best
Company, I should think him envious.
Mil.
I rather think his Ambition lies quite the opposite Way; for I
have seen him walking at high Mall with a Fellow in a dirty
Shirt, and a Wig unpowder'd.
Heart.
And the Man he means happens to have two Qualifications very
seldom seen in the Mall, or any where else.
Mut.
Ay, prithee what are these?
Heart.
Virtue, and good Sense.
Mut.
Ha, ha, ha, Virtue, and good Sense; no Powder, and dirty
Linen—Four fine Accomplishments for an old Philosopher to live
upon—
Mil.
Ay, or for a modern philosopher to starve with—But,
mum—Remember who I am.
Old Mutable, Young Mutable, Heartfort, Millamour.
Mil.
So, Sir, you are expeditious; and now, if you please, I am ready
to wait upon you—
O. Mut.
I am unwilling to give your Lordship any further Trouble; for I
find, my Lord, that Matters are too far gone to be broke off now—
So I thank your Lordship for the Honour you intended me. But the Boy
must be married to his former Mistress.
Heart.
Ha! [aside.]
Mil.
What's this, Sir?
O. Mut.
In short, my Lord, I have as great an Honour for Quality as any
Man; but there are Things to be consider'd—Quality is a fine thing,
my Lord; but it does not pay Debts.
Y. Mut.
Faith, You are mistaken there, Father; for it does.
Mil.
I little thought this Consideration would have expos'd my Sister
to an Affront—You are the last Commoner I shall offer her to, I
assure you —Perhaps you may repent this Refusal.
Y. Mut.
Dear Sir, consider.—Your Son's Happiness, Grandeur, Fortune all
are at Stake.
O. Mut.
Hey!—And should I have seen my Jacky a Lord?—Should I
have had a Lord ask me Blessing!—And a Sett of young Lords and
Ladies my Grand Grand Children! Should this old Crab Tree Stock have
seen such noble grafted Fruit spreading on its Branches?—O my good
dear Lord, I ask Pardon on my Knees.—Forgive the foolish Caution of
a fearful old Man.
Mil.
My Honour, my Honour forbids.
O. Mut.
Oh dear, sweet, good my Lord.— Let Pity melt your Honour to
Forgiveness.
Heart.
Let me intercede, Sir.
O Mut.
If your Honour must have a Sacrifice, let my Fault be paid by my
Punishment. Tread upon my Neck, my Lord. Do any thing to me: But do
not let me bar my Son's Way to Happiness.
Mil.
The strictest Honour is not required to be inexorable. I shall
content myself therefore with inflicting on you a moderate Punishment.
Whereas I intended to pay the Fortune down before Marriage; I now
will do it afterwards.
O. Mut.
Whenever your Lordship pleases. I will give one thorough Rebuff
to Mr. Stedfast, and return instantly.—Jacky stay,
stay you here, and expect me to conduct me to his Lordship. My Lord,
I am your Lordship's most obedient humble Servant.
Mil.
This succeeds to our Wish. I think I'll e'en play the Parson
myself, and marry you in Jest.
Y. Mut.
But I shall not play the Husband, I thank you.
Y. Mut.
Hum, I take Matrimony to be no Jest.
Mill.
And I take it to be the greatest Jest in Nature. When the old
Gentleman comes, Heartfort, do you take him to your House,
which must pass for my Lord Truelove's; thither will I bring
the Lady with the utmost Expedition. But remember to give a
particular Order to all your Servants, that your Name is Truelove
.
Heart.
If you would have me stay with you in the mean Time, I must have
no Lords. Nay, I will not allow you a Baronet. Not even a plain Sir,
though he was knighted but last Week, and hath not paid his Fees yet.
Y. Mut.
Well, Well, you shall be humoured, though I am at Work for your
Service.
Use.
Then there's a pretty Fellow gone to his Forefathers.
Clar.
No, tell the barbarous Man, undone as he is, I would have
consented to any other Portion with him than Dishonour. Tell him, he
hath forc'd me to the fatal Resolution I have taken; for, to avoid
him, was my first Cause of marrying; and tell him, in that Hour I
gave my Hand to Mr. Stedfast, I resolved never to see him more.
Use.
The Devil take me, if I do. You may send another Messenger. I'll
have no Hand in his Death, I always had a natural Antipathy to
Murder.—Poor, dear, pretty, handsome young Fellow.—Go,—you are
a cruel Creature!—Oh! Had you seen how he sigh'd, and sobb'd, and
groan'd, and kiss'd your Letter, and call'd you by all the tenderest,
softest Names, then shed such a Shower of Tears upon the Paper; then
kiss'd it again, and swore he had lost his Soul in you.—Oh! it
would have melted Rocks, could they have seen it.
Clar.
Why wilt thou torment me to no purpose?
Use.
It is your own Fault, if it be to no purpose.
Clar.
What can I do?
Use.
What can you do?—that any Woman after Eighteen should ask that
Question—What can you do?—Methinks Charity should tell you, if
your Heart was not deaf to every thing that is good—When a fine,
handsome young Fellow is the Beggar, what Woman can want Charity?
Clar.
I have no more to give—My all is now my Husband's; nor can I,
without injuring him, bestow—
Use.
Your Husband!—You are enough to make me mad—Injure your
Husband!—You may as well think you injure your Chest when you take
the Money out of it—And would you be lock'd up all your Life in
that old fusty Chest, the Arms of your Husband?
Clar.
Ha! Doth it become thee to rail against my Husband, who hast
employ'd all thy vile Rhetoric to persuade me to receive him?—
Use.
To receive him as a Husband I did,—and I now persuade you to
make a Husband of him.
Clar.
Oh, Villain! What hath urged thee to use me as thou dost? Didst
thou not first entice me to leave my Convent, and fly to England
with that Monster Millamour?—And then didst thou not, with
the same Diligence, intreat me to this Marriage? And now—
Clar.
What! with the Loss of my Honour!—
Use.
The Loss of your Honour! No, no—You may keep your Honour still;
for every Woman hath it, 'till she is discovered—
Clar.
Name it to me no more—
Use.
At least you may see him—there's no Dishonour in that—
Clar.
I dare not think of it—
Use.
E'en do it without thinking of it—Let the poor Man owe the
continuing of his Life to my Entreaties.
Clar.
Oh! he hath a more powerful Advocate within me—
Use.
Well—I'll fly with the happy News.
Clar.
Stay—I cannot resolve—
Use.
That's enough—She that can't resolve against her Lover, always
resolves for him.
Clar.
Well—I will take one dear last Draught of Ruin from his
Eyes—And then bid them Farewell for ever.
[the Street.]
Here am I fairly escaped from my Father's House—And now, what to do, or whither to go, I know not. If I return, I know the Positiveness and Passionateness of his Temper too well, to leave me any Hopes of avoiding the Match he is resolv'd on—If I do not, I dread the Consequences. Suppose I find Millamour out, and acquaint him with my Passion!—I'll die sooner—If Heartfort were here this Moment, I believe I should not refuse him any longer—Ah!
Millamour, Charlotte.
Mil.
Pox on my Rashness in discharging the good Mother this
Morning—I shall never be able to find Lucina—I must get
another—Ha! What hath Fortune sent us? A Woman in a Masque—I
suppose she doth it to hide the Small-Pox, or some cursed
Deformity—But hang it, she may pass for a Woman of Quality, for all
that—Agad I'll attack her, and, if I mistake not, she expects it.
At least she doth not threaten to run away—Madam, your most
obedient, humble Servant—I presume, by your present Posture, that
your Masque gives you an Advantage over me—that I have the Honour
of being known to you.
Char.
You may depend on it, Sir, it is to my Advantage to cover my Face
by my doing it—And I conceive it would be to your Advantage to wear
a Masque too.
Mil.
I'll excuse your abusing my Face while you abuse your own—Nor
do I believe you in earnest in either; for I see, by your Eyes, that
you like me; and, I am pretty confident, you like yourself.
Char.
Indeed, if Mr. Millamour is so fully persuaded of the
former, I think he may without any ill Opinion of my Modesty suspect
the latter.
Mil.
Hum! My Name too—
Char.
I hope you have not the worse Opinion of yourself from my knowing
it.
Mil.
No, my Dear,—nor much the better of you, I can tell
you—Harkee, Child—I find thou art some old Acquaintance of mine;
and as those are a Sett of People whom I am always glad to serve, I
will make thy Fortune.
Char.
Now I fancy you don't think me an old Acquaintance; for, if I
was, you must be assur'd, I know that is not in your Power.
Mil.
Why, truly, Madam, I am not worth as many Indies as I
would bestow on your dear Sex, if I had 'em—But, in this Affair, I
am not to be the Principal, but only a sort of Agent—Or, to speak
in your own Language, the Bawd.
Char.
Well, Sir—
Mil.
And if you can but act the Part of a Woman of Quality for one
half Hour, I believe I shall put it into your Power to act one as long
as you live.
Char.
What! Have you a Man of Quality to dispose of?
Mil.
No; but I have what many a Man of Quality would be glad to
dispose of—I have a great Fortune for you; and that with it which
many a Woman of Quality hath to dispose of.
Char.
What's that, pray?
Mil.
A Fool!
Char.
Oh! You won't want Customers; but you and I, I find, shall not
agree; for we happen to deal in the same Wares.
Mil.
But mine is a Man Fool, Madam.
Char.
And so is mine, Sir—but let us wave that; for I will give him
to any one who will have him—The Fortune is what concerns me
most—Do you know any one, in whose Hands I could place ten thousand
Pounds with Safety?
Mil.
Nay, prithee don't trifle—If you will come with me, and act
your Part well, you shall be Mistress of four times that Sum within
these two Hours. You shall have a Husband with those two great
Matrimonial Qualities, Rich and a Fool.
Char.
Ay, And what is his Name?
Char.
No, Sir, I do'nt want Riches, and I hate a Fool.
Mil.
Then your Servant. I must go find some body that will. If I had
but Time on my Hands, I should find many a Woman of Fashion would be
glad to be Mrs. Mutable.
Char.
Ha! Stay, Sir, (this may be a lucky Adventure, at least it must
be a pleasant one) if I had known Mr. Mutable was the
Gentleman—
Mil.
Well, Mr. Mutable is the Gentleman.
Char.
Oh, Heavens! My Father. I shall be discover'd.
Mil.
Come, Madam, we have not a Moment to lose. Step to my Lodgings,
and receive Instructions.
Char.
Well, Sir, I have so good an Opinion of your Honour, that I will
trust myself with you.
Mil.
My Honour is most infinitely obliged to your Confidence, dear
Madam.
Stedfast, Old Mutable.
Sted.
Forgive indeed! Why, a Man may as well determine which Way a
Weather-cock shall stand this Day Fortnight, by its present Situation,
as he can what you will think an Hour hence, by what you think now. A
Windmill, or a Woman's Heart are firm as Rocks in Comparison of you.
Mut.
I own he did over-persuade me; but, pardon me this Time, and I
will immediately fetch the Boy, and Matters shall be dispatched.
Sted.
Hum!
Mut.
Come, come, you cannot blame me. Who would not marry his Son to a
Woman of Quality?
Sted.
Who would not? I would not, Sir. If I had resolved to marry my
Daughter to a Cobler, I would not alter my Resolution to see her a-bed
with the Emperor of Germany.
Mut.
All Men, Mr. Stedfast, are not so firm in their
Resolutions as you are.
Sted.
More Shame for them, Sir. I am now in the fiftieth Year of my
Age, and never broke one Resolution in my Life yet.
Mut.
Good lack! I am some Years older than you are, and never made a
Resolution in my Life yet.
Sted.
Well, Sir, I see your Son coming: I will prepare my Daughter.
But, pray observe me. Make one Resolution. If you change your Mind
again before they are married, they shall never be married at all,
that I am resolved.
Mut. (aside.)
This is a bloody positive old Fellow. What a brave, absolute
Prince he'd make?—I'll warrant he'd chop off the Heads of two or
three thousand Subjects, sooner than break his Word. I must not anger
him any more.
Old Mutable, Young Mutable, Heartfort.
O. Mut.
Come, Jacky, you must along with me: Mr. Stedfast
and I are agreed at last.
Y. Mut.
And disappoint his Lordship, Sir?
O. Mut.
Don't tell me of his Lordship. I have taken a Resolution to see
you married immediately. And married you shall be.
Heart.
Confusion!
Y. Mut.
Dear Sir.
O. Mut.
Sir, I tell you I have taken a Resolution: So follow me as you
expect my Blessing.
Heart.
'Sdeath! I'll stop him, or perish in the Attempt.
Brazen alone, with an Opera Book in his Hand.
Well, I cannot come into the Opinion of the Town about this last Opera. It is too light for my Goute. Give me your solemn, sublime Music. But Pox take their Taste. I scarce know five Footmen in Town, who can distinguish. The Rascals have no Ear, no Judgment. I would as soon ask a Sett of Country Squires what they liked. I remember the Time when we should not have suffer'd such Stuff as this to have gone down. Ah dear, Si Caro (sings.)
Braz.
Yes, Sir, (sings the End of the Tune, and Exit.)
Char.
You have a very polite Footman indeed, Sir.
Mil.
Yes, Madam. But come, my Dear, as you are now in a Place where
you have nothing to fear, you have no more Occasion for your Masque.
Char.
No, Sir. Before I discover more of me, it will be proper to set
you right in some Mistakes you seem to lie under concerning me. In the
first Place know, that I am a Gentlewoman.
Mil.
Ay, a Parson's Daughter, descended from very honest and reputable
Parents, I dare swear. (aside.)
Char.
And, what will surprize you, one of a very good Family, and very
great Fortune.
Char.
You promised me not to be rude, before I would venture hither,
and, I assure you, I am a Woman of Fashion.
Mil.
Well, Madam, if you are a Woman of Fashion, I am sure you have
too much good Nature to be angry with me for making a Promise, which
you have too much Wit to expect I should keep. Besides, where there is
no Breach of Confidence, there is no Breach of Promise. And you no
more believe us when we swear we won't be rude, than we believe you
when you swear you think us so. So, dear sweet Gentlewoman, unmasque;
for I am in haste to serve my Friend, and yet I find I must serve
myself first.
Char.
Hold, Sir. You know you are but a Procurer.
Mil.
But I generally taste what I procure, before I put it into a
Friend's Hands—Look ye, Madam, it is in vain to resist. So, my dear
artificial Blackmoor, I desire thee to uncover.
Char.
No, Sir, first hear my History—
Mil.
I will first see the Frontispiece of it.
Char.
Know I am a Woman of strict Honour.
Mil.
Your History hath a very lamentable Beginning.
Char.
And in the greatest Distress in the World; for I am this Day to
be married to a Man I despise. Now if Mr. Millamour can find
out any Means to deliver me from the Hands of this uncourteous
Knight, I don't know how far my Generosity may reward him—I forgive
these Suspicions of me, which the Manner, in which you found me,
sufficiently justifies: But, I do assure you, this Adventure is the
only one which can attack my Reputation; and I am the only Child of a
rich old Father, and can make the Fortune of my Husband.
Mil.
Husband! Oh!
Char.
Ay, Husband. As rich a Man as Mr. Millamour would leap at
the Name; though I hope you don't think it my Intention to make one of
you—To endeavour wickedly to inclose a Common that belongs to the
whole Sex.
Mil.
Ouns! What the Devil can she be?
Char.
You have a rare Opinion of your self indeed, that the very same
Morning in which you have escaped the Jaws of a poor Mistress, you
should find another with twenty thousand Pounds in her Pocket.
Mil.
Every Circumstance (aside) Who knows what Fortune may have
sent me? What these Charms of mine have done?
Char.
What are you considering, Sir?
Mil.
I am considering, my Dear, what particular Charm in my Person can
have made this Conquest.
Char.
Oh! A Complication, Sir.
Mil.
Dear Madam!
Char.
For you must know, Sir, that I have resolved never to marry,
'till I have found a Man without one single Fault in my Eye, or a
single Virtue in any one's else.—For my Part, I take Beauty in a
Man to be a Sign of Effeminacy; Sobriety, want of Spirit; Gravity,
want of Wit; and Constancy, want of Constitution.
Mil.
So that to have no Fault in your Eye, is to be an impudent,
Hatchet-face, Raking, Rattling, Roving, Inconstant—
Char.
All which Perfections are so agreeably blended in you, sweet Sir.
Mil.
Your most obedient, humble Servant, Madam.
Char.
That I have fix'd on you as my Cavalier for this Enterprize, for
which there is but one Method, I must run into one Danger to avoid
another. I have no way to shun my Husband at Home, but by carrying a
Husband Home with me—Now, Sir, if you can have the same implicit
Faith in my Fortune as you had in my Beauty, the Bargain is struck.
Send for a Parson, and you know what follows—[Unmasks] You
may easily see my Confusion. And I would have you imagine you owe
this Declaration only to my horrible Apprehension of being obliged to
take a Man I like less than yourself.
Mil.
I am infinitely oblig'd to you, Madam. But—
Char.
But! Do you hesitate, Sir?
Mil.
The Offer of so much Beauty and Fortune would admit of no
Hesitation, was it not that I must wrong a Friend? Consider, Madam, if
you know none who hath a juster Title to them. How happy would this
Declaration make Heartfort, which you throw away on me.
Char.
I find I have thrown it away indeed—Ha! Am I refus'd? I begin
to hate him, and despise myself.
Mil.
Upon my Soul she is a fine Woman; but can I think of wronging my
Friend? The Devil take me if she is not exquisitely handsome; but he
is my Friend—But she hath Twenty thousand Pounds—But I must be a
Rascal to think of her, and as many Millions would not pay me for it.
Millamour, Charlotte, Brazen.
Braz.
Sir, here is a Lady.
Mil.
'Sdeath a Lady!—Fool, Sot, Oaf! How often shall I tell thee,
that I am never at Home to two Ladies at a Time?
Mil.
Clarinda! Oh, transporting Name—My Dear, shall I beg for
the Safety of your Reputation, you would step into that Closet, while
I discharge the Visit of a troublesome Relation?
Char.
Put me any where from the Danger of a female Tongue—Well, if I
escape free this Time, I will never take such another Ramble while I
live again.
Mil. (Shuts her in the Closet)
There—Now will I find some Way to let Heartfort know of
her being here—I am transported at the Hope of serving him, even
whilst Clarinda is at my Door.
Clar.
That it can be equall'd by nothing but thy Falshood.
Mil.
Can so unjust an Accusation proceed from so much Sweetness?—Can
you that have forsaken me.—
Clar.
Do not attempt to excuse yourself—You know how false you have
been—Nor could any thing but your Falshood have driven me to what I
have done.
Mil.
By all the—
Clar.
Do not damn thy self more—I know thy Falshood; I have seen it.
Therefore thy Perjuries are as vain as wicked—Do you think I wanted
this Testimony? [Gives him a Letter.]
Mil.
Lucina's Letter! Cursed Accident! She too hath received
Clarinda's! But I must stand it out. Hear this! My Falshood! Mine!
when there's not a Star in Heaven that hath not seen me, like an
Arcadian of the first sort, sighing and wishing for you; the
Turtle is inconstant, compared to me, the Rose will change its Season,
and blossom in Midwinter, the Nightingale will be silent, and the
Raven sing; nay, the Phænix will have a Mate, when I have any
Mate but you.
Clar.
Had this been true, Nature should have sooner chang'd than I—
Mil.
Oh! You know it is: You have known this Heart too long, to think,
it capable of Inconstancy.
Clar.
Thou hast a Tongue that might charm the very Syrens to
their own Destruction, 'till they own'd thy Voice more charming, and
more false than theirs. There is a Softness in thy Words equal to the
Hardness of thy Heart—
Mil.
And there is a Softness within that—
Clar.
Hold, Sir, I conjure you, do not attempt my Honour: But think,
however dear you have been to me, my Honour's dearer—
Mil.
Thy Honour shall be safe—Not even the Day, nor Heaven itself
shall witness our Pleasures.
Clar.
Think not the Fear of Slander guards my Honour—No, I would not
myself be a Witness of my Shame.
Mil.
Thou shalt not—We'll shut out every prying Ray of Light, and,
losing the Language of our Eyes, find more delicious Ways to
interchange our Souls. We'll wind our Senses to a Height of Rapture,
'till they play us such dear inchanting Tunes of Joy—
Clar.
Oh, Millamour (sighing.)
Mil.
Give that dear Sigh to my warm Bosom. Thence let it thrill into
my Heart, and fan thy Image there—Oh! thou art every where in me
—My Eyes, my Ears, my Thoughts would only see, and hear, and think
of thee. Thou dearest, sweetest, tenderest—Would Heaven form me
another Paradise; Would it give me new Worlds of Bliss,
Is every thing in Order? Are the New Liveries on all the rest of my Servants?
Footm.
Yes, Sir, They are all on after a Manner; one hath no Pockets,
and the other no Sleeves. John the Coachman will not wear his.
Sted.
Then desire John the Coachman to drive himself out of my
Doors. I'll make my Servants know they are dress'd to please my
Humour, not their own.
Cook.
Sir, It is impossible to get Supper ready by nine.
Sted.
Then let me have it raw. If Supper be not ready at nine, you
shall not be in my House at ten.—Well, what say you, will not my
Wine be ready?
But.
No, indeed will it not, Sir; your Honour hath by Mistake mark'd a
Pipe not half a Year old.
Sted.
Must I consult your Palate, or my own?— Must I give you Reasons
for my Actions? Sirrah, I tell you new Wine is properest for a
Wedding. So go your Ways, and trouble me with no more impertinent
Questions.
Stedfast, Squeezepurse.
Sted.
Mr. Squeezepurse, I am glad you are come. I am so pester'd
with my Servants.
Squeez.
The Laws are too mild—too mild for Servants, Mr. Stedfast
.
Sted.
Well, and have you brought the Writings.
Squeez.
They are ready. The Parties Hands are only necessary. The
Settlement is as strong as Words can make it. I have not been sparing
of them.
Sted.
I expect Mr. Mutable and his Son this Instant; and hope,
by the Help of you and the Parson, to have finish'd all within an
Hour.
Sted.
Mr. Squeezepurse, you will excuse me. (Reads) Sir, I am
at length fully determin'd to marry my Son to the other Lady, so
desire all Matters may be cancell'd between us. I was ashamed to
bring you this Refusal, so have sent it by Letter. Your humble
Servant, Tho. Mutable. Ashamed! Ay thou may'st be ashamed,
indeed.
Squeez.
Any thing of Moment from the other Party?
Sted.
Death and Fury! Go call your Lady here—She was a Witness of his
Engagements. I'll go to Law with him.
Squeez.
The Law is open to any injured Person, and is the properest Way
of seeking Restitution.
Ser.
My Lady, Sir, my Lady is gone out.
Sted.
How! gone out! My Wife gone out— Oons, and Pestilence! run away
on her Wedding-Day! Where is she gone?
Ser.
I don't know, Sir.
Sted.
Shew me that House immediately, good Mr. Squeezepurse. I
will fetch her home, I am determin'd. It is a fine Age to marry in,
when a Wife cannot stay at home on her Wedding-Day.
SCENE, Millamour's Lodging.
Millamour, Clarinda.
Mil.
Cruel Clarinda—Thus to stop short when we were at the
Brink of Happiness. To shew my eager Soul a Prospect of Elysium
, and then refuse it the Possession.
Clar.
With how much juster Reason may I complain of you! Ah!
Millamour, didst thou not, when the very Day of our Marriage was
appointed, didst thou not then forsake me?
Mil.
Heaven knows with what Reluctancy, nor could any thing but my
Fear of your Misery have compell'd me to it.
Clar.
It is a strange Love that makes its Object miserable, for Fear of
its becoming so. Nor can the Heart that loves, be, in my Opinion, ever
miserable, while in Possession of what it loves.
Mil.
Oh! let that plead my Cause, and whisper to thy tender Heart—
To him Brazen.
Brazen.
Oh, Sir! Undone, undone.
Mil.
What's the Matter?
Brazen.
Mr. Stedfast, Sir, is below with another Gentleman—He
swears his Wife is in the House, and he will have her.
Clar.
I shall faint.
Mil.
What's to be done—There's another Woman in the Closet, whom she
must not see.
Clar.
Ah, Heavens!
Millamour, Clarinda, Brazen, Stedfast, Squeezpurse.
Sted.
Where is this wicked, vile, rambling Woman? Where are you,
Sorceress, that are run away from your Husband's House on your
Wedding-Day?
Mil.
Hold, Sir, you must not disturb the Lady.
Sted.
Must not disturb her, Sir!
Mil.
No, Sir.
Sted.
Why, pray Sir, who are you?
Squeez.
Mr. Stedfast, give me leave if you please. Whoever you
are, Sir, I believe you scarce know what you are doing. Do you know,
Sir, that this Lady is a Femme Couverte, and the Consequence
of detaining such, without the leave of her Husband first had and
obtain'd? Mr. Stedfast, you have as good an Action against the
Gentleman as any Man can wish to have. Juries, now a Days, give great
Dammages in the Affair of Wives.
Mil.
Is this Lady your Wife, Sir?
Mil.
Then, Sir, you owe her Life to me; for had not immediate
Application been made, the whole College could not have saved her.
Sted.
To you! who the Devil are you?
Mil.
Sir, I am an unworthy Practiser of the Art of Physick.
Sted.
How came she here, in the Devil's Name?
Mil.
By a most miraculous Accident—She was taken ill just at my
Door—My Servant too was then by, as great good Luck, standing at
it—Brazen, give the Gentleman an Account how you brought the
Lady in, when you saw her drop down at my Door.
Braz.
I was standing, Sir, as my Master says, picking my Teeth at this
Door, when the sick Lady who sits in the Chair, as my Master says, and
ready to drop down, as my Master says, and so I took her up in my
Arms, and brought her up Stairs, and set her down in the great Chair,
and call'd my Master, who, I believe, can cure her if any Doctor in
England can; for, tho' I say it, who am but a poor Servant, he is
a most able Physician in Women's Affairs.
Squeez.
I saw nothing of this happen when she came in, and this Fellow's
a good Evidence, or I am mistaken.
Clar.
Oh, Heavens! where am I?
Sted.
Where are you? Not where you should be—at home at your
Husband's.
Clar.
My Husband's Voice! Mr. Stedfast, where are you?
Mil.
Go near her, Sir,—Now you may go as near her as you please.
Sted.
What's the matter with you, Madam?
Clar.
I cannot tell you, Sir, I was taken in the strangest giddy
manner, with such a Swimming in my Head, that every thing seem'd to
dance before my Eyes.
Clar.
Not quite over; but I am much better.
Mil.
I never knew that Specificum Basilicum Magnum fail;
that is, indeed, an universal Nostrum.
Sted.
Sir, I am glad to hear you mention a Nostrum, by which, I
suppose, you are not a regular bred Physician; for those are a Set of
People, whom I resolved, many Years ago, never to employ.
Mil.
Sir, I never took any Degree at our University.
Sted.
I like you the better for it.
Mil.
You are a Man of Understanding, Sir. The University is the very
worst Place to educate a Physician in. A Man, Sir, contracts there a
narrow habit of observing the Rules of a Set of stupid Ancients. Not
one in fifty of them ever ventures to strike a bold Stroke. A Quack,
Sir, is the only Man to put you out of your Pain at once. A regular
Physician, like the Court of Chancery, tires a Man's Patience, and
consumes his Substance, before he decides the Cause between him and
the Disease.
Sted.
Come, Madam, I suppose by this time, you are able to walk home,
or to a Chair at least.
Mil.
Sir, the Air is very dangerous, you had better leave her here
some time.
Sted.
Sir, I am resolved she shall go home, let the Consequence be what
it will. Doctor, here is something for your Trouble. I am much obliged
to your Care—Madam, how do you now?
Clar.
Oh! infinitely better.
Mil.
A Word with you, Sir,—I heard you say, this is your
Wedding-Day—In your Ear (whispers) Not as you tender your
Wife's future Health, nay, her Life.
Mil.
Give me leave, Sir, to hand the Lady to her Chair.
Sted.
Pshaw! I hate Ceremony—pray stay behind—
Braz.
Ay, Sir, some Thanks to me; for I think I lyed pretty handsomely.
Mil.
Well, Sirrah, and are you so vain of the Merit? Did not I show
you the way?
Char. (knocks at the Door.)
Doctor! Doctor!
Mil.
Ha! get you hence, and endeavour to find out Heartfort,
and bring him hither instantly—My fair Prisoner, I ask your Pardon
for keeping you confined so long.
Char.
Oh! Sir no Excuses: Patients must be tended. But pray, Doctor,
have you not some little Skill in Casuistry? Will you advise me what
to do in this Affair, and whether you think it proper I should suffer
you to pass with my Father for so excellent a Physician as you do?
Mil.
Oh! Madam, it needs no great Casuist to advise a young Lady how
to act, which should be always by the Rules of Good-Nature. Besides,
Madam, you shall not see your Father deceived, for I will merit the
same Reputation with you, if you will take my Prescription; for I will
engage to recommend you one that shall cure you of all Distempers.
Char.
Ay! pray what is this infallible Nostrum? I am afraid it
is something very nauseous to the Palate.
Mil.
No, far otherwise: It is taken by a great many Ladies merely for
its agreeable Relish.
Char.
Well, what is it?
Mil.
Nothing more than a very pretty Fellow of my Acquaintance.
Mil.
No, Faith: If he was, you would have taken the Nostrum
long ago.
Char.
Hum! I question that—I fancy, Doctor, you are as great a Quack
in Love as you are in Physic, and apt in both to boast more Power than
you have. Ah! if I thought it worth my while, I would play such
Pranks with your wild Worship—
Millamour, Charlotte, Heartfort.
Heart.
Oh! Millamour, I have been waiting for you. Ha!
Mil.
Well, whether thou hast been waiting for me or seeking me, I am
glad you have found me; for I have a Favour to ask of you, which you
must not deny me. Madam, look him boldly in the Face: I dare swear we
shall carry our Point.
Char.
What Point, Sir?
Mil.
In short, Sir, this young Lady hath begg'd me to ask your Pardon
in her Name, and hopes your Forgiveness of all her ill Usage, all her
little Airs, which the Folly of Youth, and the Vanity of Beauty
together, made her put on; and she does most faithfully promise, nay,
and I have offer'd to be bound for her, that, if you are so generous
to forgive the past, she shall never offend for the future.
Char.
Intolerable Insolence!
Mil.
Yes; her intolerable Insolence, she hopes; knowing the infinite
Goodness and Sweetness of your Temper, will be past over; and that you
will be pleased to consider, that a gay, giddy, wild, young Girl
could not have Understanding enough to set a just Value on the sincere
Passion of a Man of Sense and Honour.
Mil.
Nay, nay, I think so too. I must condemn the Hardness of your
Heart, that can be Proof against such Penitence in an offending
Mistress. Tho' she hath been, I own, as bad as possible, yet sure her
repenting Tears may atone.
Heart.
I'm in a Dream, for thou, my Friend, I am sure, wilt not delude
me. Madam, is it possible for me to presume to think the Sufferings I
have undergone, had they been ten thousand times as great, could
touch your Heart?
Char.
Hum! I thank my Stars, I have it.
Heart.
I cannot be awake, nor you be Mistress of such Goodness, to value
my little Services so infinitely beyond their Merit. Oh! you have been
too kind. I have not done nor suffer'd half enough.
Mil.
Pox take your Generosity! Suffer on to Eternity, with all my
Soul.
Heart.
I deserve your Pity now a thousand times more than ever. This
Profusion of Goodness overwhelms my Heart.
Mil.
Not one bit beyond a just Debt; she owes you all.
Heart.
Millamour, as thou art my Friend, no more.
Char.
Let him proceed; I am not ashamed to own myself Mr. Heartfort
's Debtor.
Mil.
Ay!
Char.
And tho' you have somewhat exceeded your Commission, and said
more for me than perhaps the Stubbornness of my Temper might have
permitted me to say, yet this I must confess, my Behaviour to Mr.
Heartfort hath no way answer'd his Merits.
Mil.
Go on, go on, Madam; you never spoke half so much Truth in your
Life.
Millamour, Charlotte, Heartfort, Old Mutable, Young Mutable.
O. Mut.
My Lord, I have been waiting for your Lordship above this Hour:
If it had not been for Jacky here, I should never have found
you.
Mil.
A particular Affair, Sir, hath detained me; but I am ready now to
wait on you.
O. Mut.
Jacky, is not that your former Mistress, Miss Stedfast
? Odso! it is she. What can she do here?
Y. Mut.
I wish she be not come to spoil my Match with my Lord's Sister.
O. Mut.
You have hit it, Boy. Jacky, you have hit it: but I'll try
that. My Lord, my good Lord.
Char.
Ay, but what Right had I to that Trial, unless I had intended,
which I never can, to disobey my Father?
Heart.
Ha! never can!
Char.
Heaven forbid I should prove undutiful to him! And, Mr.
Heartfort, wherefore, pray, did you understand all these Apologies
made, but that after all your Merit, I must obey my Father in
marrying this young Gentleman?
Heart.
Confusion!
O. Mut.
Indeed, Madam, but there are more Fathers to be obeyed than one.
My Son, Madam, is another Woman's Property; and I believe I have as
good a Right to my Son, as Mr. Stedfast hath to his Daughter.
It's very fine, truly, that my Son must be stolen from me and married
whether I will or no!
Y. Mut.
Ay, Faith is it, Madam, very hard that you will have me, whether
I will or no.
Clar.
Indeed!
O. Mut.
Why truly, Madam, I am very sorry it should be any Disappointment
to you; but my Son, Madam, happen'd to be, without my Knowledge, at
the time I offer'd him to you, engaged to my Lord Truelove's
Sister. Was not he, my Lord? Sure, Madam, you would not rob another
Woman of her Right.
Char.
Sir, if it please you, honoured Sir, my good Father-in-law that
was to have been, a Word with you.
O. Mut.
As many as you please, Madam; but no Father-in-law.
Char.
Tho' in Obedience to my Father I had complied to accept your Son
for a Husband, yet I am obliged to your kind Refusal, because that
young Gentleman your Son, Sir, happens to be a Person for whom, ever
since I had the Honour of his Acquaintance, I have entertain'd the
most surprising, invincible and infinite Contempt in the World.
Y. Mut.
Contempt for me!
O. Mut.
Contempt for Jacky!
Char.
It would be therefore ungrateful, to let such a Benefactor as you
be deceived in a Point which so nearly concerns him. This Gentleman,
Sir, is no Lord, and hath no Estate.
O. Mut.
How, Jacky, no Lord!
Y. Mut.
Yes, Sir, I'll be sworn he is.
Char.
And he hath contriv'd, Sir, to marry your ingenious Son to some
common Slut of the Town. So I leave you to make up the Match, and am,
Gentlemen, your most humble Servant.
Millamour, Heartfort, Old and Young Mutable.
Heart.
Millamour, I thank thee for the Trouble thou hast
undergone for me; but as the Affair is no longer worth my Pursuit, I
will release you from your troublesome Title, and this Gentleman from
his Mistake. So, Sir, your Son is disengaged, and you may marry him
to the young Lady just now gone, whenever you please.
Mil.
Faith, Sir, I am sorry I have no Sister for your Son, with all my
Heart.
O. Mut.
And are you no Lord?
Mil.
No, Sir, to my Sorrow.
O. Mut.
Why have I been imposed upon then? (To Y. Mut.) But how
came you to join in the Conspiracy? Would you cheat your Father?
Y. Mut.
Indeed, Sir, not I. I was imposed on as well as you—I took him
for a Lord; for I don't know a Lord from another Person, but by his
Dress. You cannot blame me, Sir.
O. Mut.
Nay, Jacky, I don't desire to blame you: I know thou art a
good Boy and a fine Gentleman. But come, come with me. I will make one
more Visit to Mr. Stedfast, and try what's to be done. If I
can pacify him, all's well yet. What had I to do with Lords? We
Country Gentlemen never get any good by them.
Millamour, Heartfort.
Mil.
Come, Heartfort, be not grave on the Matter: I will
venture to affirm thy Mistress is thy own.
Heart.
Damn her! do not mention her: I should despise myself equal with
the Fool just departed, could I think myself capable of forgiving her:
No, believe me, Millamour, was she to commence the Lover, and
take the Pains I have done to win her, they would be ineffectual.
Mil.
And art thou so incensed at a few Coquette Airs of Youth and
Gaiety, which Girls are taught by their Mothers and their Mistresses,
to practise on us to try our Love, or rather our Patience, when
perhaps their own suffers more in the Attempt.
Heart.
'Sdeath! Sir, hath she not used me like a Dog?
Mil.
Certainly.
Heart.
Hath she not trifled with my Passion beyond all Sufferance?
Mil.
Very true.
Heart.
Hath she not taken a particular Delight in making me ridiculous?
Mil.
Too true! and since I see you can bear it, I will tell you, she
hath abused you, trifled with you, laughed at you, coquetted and
jilted you.
Heart.
Hold, Millamour, do not accuse her unjustly neither: I
cannot say she hath jilted me.
Mil.
Damn her! Think no more of her: It would be wrong in you to
forgive her.
Heart.
Yes, forgive her I can: It would be rather mean not to forgive
her. Yes, yes, I will forgive her—
Mil.
Well, do; and so think no more of her.
Heart.
I will not; for it is impossible to impute so much ill Usage only
to the Coquettish Airs of Youth: For could I once be brought to
believe that—
Mil.
And yet a thousand Women—
Heart.
True, true, dear Millamour: A thousand Women have played
worse Pranks with their Lovers, and afterwards made excellent Wives:
It is the Fault of their Education, rather than of their Natures; and
a Man must be a Churl who would not bear a little of that Behaviour in
a Mistress, especially in one so very young as Charlotte is,
and so very pretty too. For, give me leave to tell you, we may justly
ascribe several Faults to the Number of Flatterers, which Beauty never
is without: Besides, you must confess, there is a certain good Humour
that attends her Faults, which makes it impossible for you to be
angry with them.
Mil.
Indeed to me she appears to have no Faults but what arise from
her Beauty, her Youth, or her good Humour; for which Reason I think,
Sir, you ought to forgive them, especially if she asked it of you.
Heart.
Asked it of me! Oh! Millamour, could I deny any thing she
asked of me?
Mil.
Well, well, that we shall bring her to; or at least to look as if
she asked it of you; and you know Looks are the Language of Love.
Heart.
But pray how came she to your Lodgings this Afternoon?
Mil.
Ha! Truepenny, art thou jealous?
Heart.
No, faith: Your sending for me prevents that, tho' I was never so
much inclin'd—
Mil.
Let us go take one Bottle together, and I will tell you, tho'
perhaps I must be obliged to trust a Lady's Secret with you, (and I
could trust any but your own Mistress's.) Courage, Heartfort.
What are thy Evils compar'd with mine, who have a Husband to contend
with; a damn'd legal Tyrant, who can ravish a Woman with the Law on
his Side. All my Hope and Comfort lie in his Age: And yet it vexes
me, that my blooming Fruit must be mumbled by an old Rascal, who hath
no Teeth to come at the Kernel.
SCENE, Lucina's Apartment.
LUCINA with a Letter.
Shall I write once more to this perjur'd Man? But what can it avail? Can I upbraid him more than I have already done in that which he hath scornfully sent back? Perhaps I was too severe. Let me revise it. Ha! what do I see?—A Letter from another Woman. Clarinda Stedfast! O Villain! doth he think I yet want Testimonies of his Falshood?
Lucina, Plotwel.
Luc.
Oh! Plotwel, such new Discoveries! The Letter you brought
me back was not my own, but a Rival's; a Rival as unhappy as myself.
Plot.
And now I bring you News of a Rival more happy than yourself, if
the Possession of a Rake be Happiness. In short, Mr. Millamour
is to be married to the Daughter of Mr. Stedfast.
Luc.
Ha! that was the Name I heard when at his Lodgings. He hath
debauched his Wife, and would marry his Daughter. This is an
Opportunity of Revenge I hardly could have wish'd. But how, how, dear
Plotwel, art thou apprised of this?
Plot.
When you sent me back to Millamour, while I was disputing
with his Servant, who denied me Admission, a fine young Lady whip'd by
me into a Chair: I then brib'd his Servant with a Guinea, who
discover'd to me, that her Name was Stedfast; that she was a
great Fortune, and to be married to his Master; and that she lived in
Grosvenor-Street.
Luc.
Shall I beg you would add one Obligation more to those I have
already received from you, and deliver him this Letter? It may prevent
the Ruin of a young Creature—
Plot.
One of Millamour's Letters to you, I suppose. But it will
have no Effect, unless it recommends him the more to her, by giving
her an Opportunity of triumphing over a Rival.
Luc.
No Matter: To caution the unexperienc'd Traveller from Rocks we
split on, is our Duty: If that be ineffectual, his Rashness be his
Punishment.
Plot.
Pray take my Advice, and resolve to think no more of him.
Luc.
As a Lover, I never will. Oblige me in this, and then I will
retire with you to the Cloyster you shall choose, and never more have
Converse with that traiterous Sex.
Plot.
On Condition you think no more of Millamour, I will
undertake it, tho' 'tis an ungrateful Office.
Luc.
Come in with me, while I enclose it under Seal, that you may
securely affirm you are ignorant of the Contents. Come, my faithful
Plotwel, believe me I both hate and despise Mankind; and from
this Hour I will entertain no Passion but our Friendship in my Soul—
Millamour, Heartfort.
Mil.
And now, dear George, I hope I have satisfied your
Jealousy.
Heart.
I wish I could say you had as well satisfied me with your
Behaviour to this young Lady— to Clarinda
Mil.
What wouldst thou have me do?
Heart.
Why, faith, to be sincere; not what thou hast done: However since
that's past, all the Reparation now in thy Power to make, is to see
her no more.
Mil.
That would be a pretty Reparation indeed! and perhaps she would
not thank you for giving me that Advice.
Heart.
Perhaps not; but I am sure her Husband would.
Mil.
Her Husband! Damn the old Rascal: The teazing such a Cuckold, is
half the Pleasure of making him one.
Heart.
How! what Privilege dost thou perceive in thyself, to invade and
destroy the Happiness of another? Besides, tho' Shame may first reach
the Husband, it doth not always end there: The Wife is always liable,
and often is involved in the Ruin of the Gallant. The Person who
deserves chiefly to be exposed to Shame, is the only Person who
escapes without it.
Mil.
Heyday! thou are not turning Hypocrite, I hope. Thou dost not
pretend to lead a Life equal to this Doctrine
Heart.
My Practice perhaps is not equal to my Theory; but I pretend to
sin with as little Mischief as I can to others; and this I can lay my
Hand on my Heart and affirm, that I never seduc'd a young Woman to
her own Ruin, nor a married one to the Misery of her Husband: Nay, and
I know thee to be so good-natur'd a Fellow, that what thou dost of
this kind arises from thy not considering the Consequence of thy
Actions; and if any Woman can lay her Ruin on thee, thou canst lay it
on Custom.
Mil.
Why, indeed, if we consider it in a serious way.
Heart.
And why should we not? Custom may lead a Man into many Errors,
but it justifies none; nor are any of its Laws more absurd and unjust,
than those relating to the Commerce between the Sexes: For what can
be more ridiculous than to make it infamous for Women to grant what it
is honourable for us to solicit, nay, to ensnare and almost compel
them into; to make a Whore a scandalous, a Whoremaster a reputable
Appellation: Whereas, in reality, there is no more mischievous
Character than a public Debaucher of Women.
Mil.
No more, dear George; now you begin to pierce to the
Quick.
Heart.
I have done: I am glad you can feel; it is a sure Sign of no
Mortification.
Mil.
Yes, I can feel, and too much, that I have been in the wrong to a
Woman, who hath no Fault but foolishly loving me. 'Sdeath! thou hast
rais'd a Devil in me, that will sufficiently revenge her Quarrel. Oh!
Heartfort, how was it possible for me to be guilty of so much
Barbarity, without knowing it, and of doing her so many Wrongs,
without seeing them till this Moment, till it is too late, till I can
make her no Reparation?
Heart.
Resolve to see her no more; that's the best in your Power.
Mil.
Well, I will resolve it, and wish I could do more.
Millamour, Heartfort, Useful.
Use.
Oh! Mr. Millamour, Oh!
Mil.
What News?
Use.
Oh! I am dead.
Heart.
Drunk, I believe. What's the meaning of this?
Use.
Give me a Glass of Wine, for I am quite out of Breath.
Mil.
Help! Heartfort, help!
Use.
I am come—Give me another Glass.
Heart.
You have no reason to complain of your Breath, for I think you
drink two Glasses in the same.
Use.
Well then, now I am a little come to my self, I can tell you I
have charming News for you: Clarinda continues still in the
same dangerous way, and her Husband—but mum—what have I said?—
I forgot we were not alone.
Heart.
Oh! Madam, I will withdraw.
Use.
Well then, her Husband hath sent me to fetch you to her.
Mil.
He hath sent too late; for I have resolv'd to see her no more—
Use.
What do you mean?
Mil.
Seriously as I say—
Use.
You will never see her more!
Mil.
Never.
Use.
You will see her no more!
Use.
Indeed! If that be the only Reparation you can make her, you are
a very pretty Fellow. But it is false: You are not such a sort of a
Man. If I had not known you not to be such a sort of a Man, the Devil
should have had you, before I should have troubled my Head about your
Affairs.
Use.
Could not your Heart have reproach'd you sooner, before you had
made me accessary to the Cheat you intend to put upon her?
Mil.
What Cheat?
Use.
The worst Cheat can be put upon her. What! Sir, do you think she
hath no Expectations from you?
Mil.
If she hath, her Husband will answer them.
Use.
Her Husband! her Husband won't, nor can't answer them—
Mil.
I am not inclin'd to jest—
Use.
Nor am I, but I think you are. What would you say of a Man, who
would sail to the Indies, and when he was just come in Sight of
his Port, tack about and return without touching? Have not you been
sailing several Years into the Arms of your Mistress, and now she
holds them open, you refuse —What! did you court her only to refuse
in your Turn? to refuse her, when she is expecting, wishing,
longing—
Mil.
And do you really think her as you say?
Use.
What could move her else to lay such a Plot as she hath done? To
pretend herself sick, that you might be sent for as her Physician? But
you would play the Physician with her, and make her Distemper real.
Mil.
If I thought that—
Use.
What can you think else? Can any thing hurt a Woman equal with
being refused?
Mil.
Refused! what, giving up her matchless Beauty to my longing Arms?
'Sdeath! he is not of Flesh and Blood who could refuse. Thou dearest
Woman! and dost thou think she will consent?— Dost thou think my
Happiness so near?
Use.
I know it must be—but—
Mil.
But what?
Mil.
Reparation! ay, so I will—All that Love, transporting, eager,
wanton, raving Love can give her—Heartfort, you must excuse
me: Business, Sir, Business of very great Importance calls me away—
Heart.
I can guess your Business by your Company.
Mil.
Come, my dear Useful, convey me, quick as my Desires,
where only they can meet full Satisfaction. Let me enjoy Clarinda
,—and—then—
Use.
And then—perhaps you may keep your Word, and never see her any
more.
SCENE, Stedfast's House.
Clarinda, Charlotte.
Clar.
Oh, Charlotte! let no Passion prevail on you to throw your
self away on a Person you despise. Marriage knows no Release but
Death. Had I the World, I would give it to recal mine.
Char.
You see, Clarinda, it is easier to give Advice than to
take it.
Clar.
You are not in my Situation. Think, my Charlotte, think,
but of the Danger I was in, against the Daily Solicitations of a Man,
who had so great a Friend within my Breast. My little Fortune spent.
A friendless, helpless Orphan. The very Man I lov'd, with whom I must
at least have shared Poverty, refusing to make me the honourable
Partner of his Bed! What could Charlotte then have done? Would
you have then refused a rich, an honourable Lover?
Char.
Hum! Agad, I don't know what I should have done. Heaven forbid,
it should be my Case. I should not have taken the old Fellow, I am
positive.
Clar.
Oh, my dear Charlotte! never let any thing tempt you to
forfeit the Paths of Honour.
Char.
And yet, my dear Clarinda, you can feign yourself sick to
see your Lover. Pray, my dear, how doth a Woman's Honour do, when she
is sick to see her Gallant?
Clar.
Indeed, you wrong me. The Terror I have of your Father's Bed, put
me on the seigning this Sickness, which will soon be real. For as to
Millamour, I have determined never to see him more.
Char.
Nay, I will swear, I saw Useful take a Chair and go for
him, as your Physician, by my Father's Order.
Clar.
You surprize me! O that wicked Woman, who hath been the Occasion
of all my Misfortunes, and is determin'd to persecute me to the last
Minute.
Char.
There is somewhat in her which I dislike, and have often wondered
why you would indulge her in the Freedoms she takes.
Clar.
O Charlotte! in distress'd Circumstances, how easily can
Impudence get the Ascendant over us? Besides, this Woman, of whom I
now have your Opinion, can outwardly act a Saint, as well as inwardly
a Devil. What Defence hath the Ignorance of twenty, against the
experienced Arts of such a Woman? Believe me, I thank Heaven, I have
escaped so well, rather than wonder I have not escaped better.
Char.
Well, honoured Madam, if your Daughter-in-Law may presume to
advise, rest contented with the Honour you have already attain'd; for
if you should be overthrown but in one Battle, there's an End of all
your former Conquests. But hush, hush; to your Chair. My Father is
coming up.
Stedfast, Clarinda, Charlotte.
Sted.
Well, Madam, how do you now?
Char.
My Mother is extremely ill, Sir.
Sted.
I did not ask you—How do you, Child?
Clar.
Oh!
Sted.
Oh! This is the most comfortable Wedding-Day sure, that ever Man
had. Well the Doctor will be here presently.
Char.
Sir, the last Words my Mamma spoke were, she desired she might
not see the Doctor.
Sted.
Yes, Madam; but the last Words I speak are, that she shall see
him.
Clar.
No, Doctor—No, Doctor.
Sted.
I am glad you are come, Sir: My Wife, is extremely ill—Go to
her.—Physicians should make a little more Haste.
Mil.
Give me your Hand, if you please, Madam.
Sted.
How do you do, Child?
Clar.
Oh!
Use. (Aside.)
A true Physician faith! He feels for her Pulse in her Palm.
Sted.
How do you find her, Doctor?
Mil.
Truly, Sir, I wish there may not be more Danger in the Case, than
is imagined.
Sted.
Nay, the World shall not say she died for want of Assistance. I
will go send for another.
Mil.
Oh, Sir! there's no Need of that—I can trust to my own Skill.
Sted.
I'm resolved.
Use.
Come, Madam, We'll leave the Doctor to his Patient.
Clarinda, Millamour.
Mil.
Oh, speak to me, Clarinda—Whisper something tender to my
Soul, or I shall die before thee.
Clar.
Thou hast undone me, Millamour.
Mil.
Then I have undone myself! Myself!— What's that to having
ruin'd thee! I would be Ages expiring to preserve thee. My Dear! my
only Love! Too late I see the Follies of my Life. I see the fatal
Consequence of my ungovern'd, lawless Passion.
Clar.
Oh! had thy Eyes but Yesterday been open'd; but now it is too
late.
Mil.
Too late! I will put back the Hand of Time. O think it not too
late. Oh, couldst thou but recover; thy Marriage could not, should not
keep us from being happy.
Clar.
Alas, my Disease is but a poor Pretence, to see you once again to
take this last Farewel.
Mil.
Thou Angel Softness! Thou Fountain of Eternal Sweets! To take a
last Farewel! Then I will bid farewel to Life, Clarinda. Life,
which I will not endure without thee. Witness Heaven, that could I
but recal blest Yesterday again, I would not slight the Offers of thy
virtuous Love, for the whole World of Beauty, or of Wealth! Oh Fool!
to trifle with so vast a Blessing, 'till it was snatch'd from thee!
Yet since we cannot be what we wish, let us be what we can.
Clar.
No, Millamour, never with the Forfeit of my Honour. I will
lose my Life: Nay, what I value much more, rather than quit that Idol
of my Soul, I will lose you.
Millamour, Clarinda, Charlotte, Useful, Stedfast, Crisis.
Use.
Hush, hush, to your Posts, to your Posts.
Sted. (introducing Crisis)
Doctor, that is your Patient, and Heaven direct your Judgment.
Cris.
Sir, Sir, harkee, who's that? I observed him feel her Pulse.
Sted.
That is a Brother Physician, Sir.
Cris.
Ay, What is his Name?
Sted.
Doctor, Dr. Crisis desires to know your Name.
Mil.
My Name! Name—My Name is Gruel.
Cris.
Gruel, I don't him, nor do I remember his Name in the
College. Some Quack, I suppose. —Sir, here's your Fee—I'm your
humble Servant.
Sted.
Stay, stay, dear Doctor.
Cris.
Sir, I will consult with no Quacks, Sir, I have not studied
Physick so long, to consult with a Quack! Wherefore have we a College
of Physicians, if we are to call Quacks to our Assistance?
Sted.
For Heaven's Sake, Doctor, my Wife will die.
Sted.
If you come to that, Sir, I am resolved he shall not be sent out
of the Room. I would not send him out of the Room to save my Wife's
Life; No, nor scarce to save my own Life. So see whose Resolution
will be broke first, your's or mine.— Resolved, Quotha.
Cris.
Here, John, my Coach to the Door— Consult with a Quack!
Sted.
Doctor, pray return my Fee.
Cris.
Sir, your humble Servant.
Mil.
I hope, Sir, we shall not want his Advice. I apprehend the
Distemper to be now, some Moments past the Crisis, and in half an
Hour, I may possibly send you the happy News of your Wife's being out
of Danger. But it is intirely necessary she should go to Bed, and then
I will go and see her.
Clar.
Never, never, Millamour. Never from this Hour will I
behold that Face again. That fatal Cause of all my Misery.
Mil.
Barbarous Clarinda! Can I be knowingly the Cause of one
Misfortune to you, when I would not purchase the World with one Sigh
of thine.
Clar.
Thy Conversation is dangerous to my Honour; and henceforth I will
fly thee as the worst of Contagions—Farewell—And think you have
lost a Woman, who durst not from her Tenderness, ever see thee more.
Use.
Ha, ha, ha—That ever a Man, who knows so much of the Sex as Mr.
Millamour, should despair at the very Brink of Victory.
Mil.
Sdeath—Did she not say, she'd never see me more.
Use.
Well, and hath she not said so a hundred times; and seen you as
often! Did she not say, she durst not see you more? Women are all
Cowards, and dare not do any thing unless they are forced to it. I
tell you, she is wishing, sighing for you. Honour and Love have a
Conflict within her Breast, and if you stand by the little Gentleman,
I'll hold a thousand Pounds he gets the better.
Mil.
No more of this Foolery. Thou hast undone us both. And by
Heavens, I will be revenged on thee. I will expose thee to all
Mankind, as thy Infamy deserves, till every wretched Maid shall curse
thee, every honest Woman despise thee, and every Boy that meets thee,
shall hoot thee through the World.
Use.
Is this my Reward?
Mil.
Reward! There is none in Law or Justice equal to thy Deserts.
Thou art a more mischievous Animal than a Serpent; and the Man or
Woman, who admits one of thy detestable Character into his House or
Acquaintance, acts more foolishly than he who admits a Serpent into
his Bosom. A public Mark of Infamy should be set on every such
Wretch, that we might shun them as a Contagion. Never see me more; for
if thou do'st, I shall forego the Dignity of my Sex to punish thee. O
Clarinda! I will pursue thee still: For next to having thee mine,
is leaving my Life at thy Feet.
Use.
Very fine! I have no more to do here at present. Such
Encouragement will tempt me to grow honest, and quit my Employment.
Stedfast, Plotwel.
Sted.
A very pretty reasonable Gentleman, truely. Would not one Woman
content him? Must he have my Wife and Daughter too? Would he have my
whole Family? Madam, I know not how to return this Obligation, which
the great Concern you have shewed for my Honou, hath laid upon me.
Plot.
Can you not find then in this Face something which might give you
a Reason for that Concern? Look stedfastly on me, and tell me, if you
remember no Mark in these Features, which were once known to you?
Sted.
There's something in that Voice, that—
Plot.
That once was Music in your Ears, if ever you spoke Truth to
Cleomela.
Sted.
Cleomela!
Plot.
Are there then any Horrours in that Name. Age certainly hath left
no Furrows there, however it hath alter'd this unhappy Face. Still, if
Remembrance of past Joys be sweet, the Name of Cleomela should
be so.
Sted.
I am so surpris'd! I scarce have Reason left to recollect you.
Plot.
Be not terrified. I come not to upbraid you; to thunder any
Injuries in your Ears, nor Breach of Promise.
Sted.
You know you cannot. It was your own Fault prevented my
fulfilling them. Would you have changed your Religion. You know my
Resolutions were to have married you. And you know my Resolutions
were never to marry you, unless you did. You kept your Religion, and I
my Resolution
Sted.
No, Heaven hath taken care to put that out of my Power. As this
Letter hath told you before.
Plot.
I assure you, Sir, the Contents of that Letter I am a Stranger
to.
Sted.
Are you? then pray read it—for I intend to make them no Secret.
Sted.
What's the Matter?
Mil.
Your poor Lady is relapsed into the most violent Fit of Madness.
And I question much whether she will ever speak again.
Sted.
She hath no Need. She hath Hands to write her Mind. Nay, were
they cut off too, she would find some other Tongue. She would invent
as strange Methods to betray the Lewdness of her Mind, as Lavinia
did to discover her Injury.
Mil.
Hey-day! Your Wife hath infected you with Madness—
Sted.
Yes, my Wife has infected me indeed. It breaks out here
[pointing to his Head] Harkee, Sir, if there be any infectious
thing about my Wife, she will communicate it to more than her Husband.
Mil.
What can be the Meaning of this? I am sorry to see this, Sir,
Very sorry to hear this. This is no common Distemper.
Sted.
No! I thought Cuckoldom the most general Distemper in the
Kingdom.
Old Mutable, Stedfast, Millamour, Plotwel.
O. Mut.
Odso, Mr. Stedfast, I am sorry to hear your Lady is ill.
Sted.
It is probable you may; for you and I are not likely to be sorry
on the same Occasion—
O. Mut.
No, it is not—Yes, it is—it is impossible—Agad! 'tis
he—'tis—my dear Lord Truelove. I'm your most obedient,
humble Servant.
Sted.
My Lord Truelove!—
O. Mut.
Ay, Sir, this is the worthy Lord, Sir, to whose Sister I was to
have married my Son, 'till, by good Luck, Sir, I found my Lord
Truelove to be no Lord, but a certain wild, young Vagabond, who
goes by the Name of Millamour.
Sted.
What's this I hear?—
Mil.
Ay, 'tis so,—the House is infected, and every Man is mad that
comes into it.
O. Mut.
Mad! You young Dog, you have made a Fool of me, I thank you.
Sted.
I am a fine one, truly, if Doctor Gruel be a Cheat.
Plot.
Mr. Millamour!
Mil.
Nay, then 'tis in vain to contend. And it requires less Impudence
to confess all than to deny it. My dear Mrs. Plotwel.
Sted.
Sir, I hate the Name of Wedding—
O. Mut.
Hey-day! I hope you are not capable of breaking your Resolution.
Sted.
Sir, I shall break my Heart—A Man that is married is capable of
every thing but being happy.
Sted.
Whenever you please, Sir.
O. Mut.
If your Daughter be ready, my Son is.
Sted.
I have no Daughter, Sir.
O. Mut.
Ha, ha, ha. You're a merry Man.
Sted.
Look ye, Gentlemen,—if one of you will take my Wife, the other
shall have my Daughter.
Sted.
My Distemper is not remov'd.—
Mill.
Take courage, Sir, I'll warrant I cure you—What are you sick
of?
Sted.
What you are sick of too by this time— my Wife.
Mil.
Is that all?
Sted.
This Insult, Sir, is worse than your first Injury;—but the Law
shall give me a Reparation for both.—
Mil.
Here comes a better Friend to you than the Law—If your Wife be
all your Illness, she will do what the Law can seldom do, unmarry you
again.—I don't know how uneasy you may be for marrying my Mistress;
but I am sure you ought to be so for marrying your own Daughter.
Sted.
Call me any thing but Husband.—
Plot.
She is indeed your Daughter—the Pledge of our Loves—the
Witness of your Treachery, and my Shame, whom that wicked Woman
seduced from the Nunnery, where I thought I had placed her in
Safety.—
Clar.
Sir, I kneel for your Blessing, nor will I rise 'till you have
given it me—
Sted.
Take it, my Child, and be assured no Father ever gave it more
gladly.—This is indeed a happy Discovery—I have found my Daughter,
and I have lost my Wife.
Plot.
My Child, let me again embrace thee— This is Happiness
indeed!—
O. Mut.
What, have you more Daughters than one, Mr. Stedfast?
Sted.
Even as you see, Sir.
O. Mut.
Why then, Sir, I hope you will not take it amiss, that I desire
all further Treaty may cease between us.
Sted.
Sir, I would not marry a Daughter of mine into your Family, was
your Estate ten times as large as it is—So now you have my
Resolution. I should expect, by such a Match, to become Grand-father
to a Weather-cock.—
O. Mut.
Very well, Sir, very well—there's no Harm done—my Son is in
statu quo, and as fine a Gentleman as ever he was.—
Heart.
Your Honour, Sir, is now disengaged. You will give me Leave once
more to mention my Ambition, especially if another Child is to share
my Charlotte's Fortune, I may appear at least worthier of her
in your Eye.—
Sted.
Here!—Take her—take her—
Char.
I told you, Sir, I would obey my Father; but I hope you will
never expect me to obey my Husband.—
Heart.
When I expect more Obedience than you are willing to pay, I hope
you will punish me by Rebellion.—
Char.
Well, I own I have not deserved so much Constancy—but, I assure
you, if I can get Gratitude enough I will pay you; for I hate to be
in Debt.
Mil.
You was pleased, Sir, this Day to promise me, that, on the
Recovery of your Lady's Senses, you would give me whatever I should
ask.—
Sted.
Ay, Sir, you shall have her before you ask. There she is, she
hath given you her Inclinations, and so I give you the rest of her.
Heav'n be prais'd, I'm rid of them both. Stay, here is another Woman
still. Will no body have her, and clear my House of them; for it is
impossible for a Man to keep his Resolutions, while he hath one Woman
in it.
Mil.
My Clarinda, Oh! transporting Extasy!
Clar.
My Millamour! my ever loved!
Mil.
Heartfort, your Hand. I am now the happiest of Mankind. I
have, on the very point of losing it, recovered a Jewel of inestimable
Value. O Clarinda! my former Follies may, through an Excess of
good Fortune, prove advantageous to both in our future Happiness.
While I, from the Reflection on the Danger of losing you, to which
the Wildness of my Desires betray'd me, shall enjoy the Bliss with
doubled Sweetness. And you from thence may derive a tender and a
constant Husband.