Love for Love/Act III
ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter Nurse.
Nurse.Miss, Miss, Miss Prue—Mercy on me, marry and Amen: Why, what's become of the Child?—Why Miss, Miss Foresight—Sure she has not lock'd her self up in her Chamber, and gone to sleep, or to Prayers; Miss, Miss, I hear her—Come to your Father, Child: Open the Door—Open the Door Miss—I hear you cry husht—O Lord, who's there? [peeps] What's here to do?—O the Father! a Man with her!—Why, Miss I say, God's my Life, here's fine doings towards—O Lord, We're all undone—O you young Harlotry [knocks] Ods my Life, won't you open the Door? I'll come in the back way. [Exit
Tattle and Miss at the Door.
Miss.O Lord, she's coming—and she'll tell my Father, what shall I do now?
Tatt.Pox take her; if she had staid two Minutes longer, I shou'd have wish'd for her coming.
Miss.O Dear, what shall I say? Tell me, Mr. Tattle, tell me a Lie.
Tatt.There's no occasion for a Lie; I cou'd never tell a Lie to no purpose—But since we have done nothing, we must say nothing, I think. I hear her—I'll leave you together, and come off as you can.Thrusts her in, and shuts the Door.
Enter Valentine, Scandal, and Angelica.
Ang.You can't accuse me of Inconstancy; I never told you, that I lov'd you.
Val.But I can accuse you of Uncertainty, for not telling me whether you did or no.
Ang.You mistake Indifference for Uncertainty; I never had Concern enough to ask my self the Question.
Scan.Nor good Nature enough to answer him that did ask you: I'll say that for you, Madam.
Ang.What, are you setting up for good Nature?
Scan.Only for the affectation of it, as the Women do for ill Nature.
Ang.Perswade your Friend, that it is all Affectation.
Val.I shall receive no Benefit from the Opinion: For I know no effectual Difference between continued Affectation and Reality.
Tatt. coming up.Scandal, are you in private Discourse, any thing of Secresie?[Aside to Scandal.
Scan.Yes, but I dare trust you; We were talking of Angelica's Love for Valentine; you won't speak of it.
Tatt.No, no, not a Syllable—I know that's a Secret, for it's whisper'd every where.
Scan.Ha, ha, ha.
Ang.What is, Mr. Tattle? I heard you say something was whisper'd every where.
Scan.Your Love of Valentine.
Ang.How!
Tatt.No, Madam, his Love for your Ladyship—Gad take me, I beg your Pardon—for I never heard a Word of your Ladyships Passion, till this instant.
Ang.My Passion! And who told you of my Passion, pray Sir?
Scan.Why, is the Devil in you? Did not I tell it you for a Secret?
Tatt.Gadso; but I thought she might have been trusted with her own Affairs.
Scan.Is that your Discretion? trust a Woman with her self?
Tatt.You say true, I beg your Pardon;—I'll bring all off—It was impossible, Madam, for me to imagine, that a Person of your Ladyship's Wit and Gallantry, could have so long receiv'd the passionate Adddresses of the accomplisht Valentine, and yet remain insensible; therefore you will pardon me, if from a just weight of his Merit, with your good Judgment, I form'd the Ballance of a reciprocal Affection.
Val.O the Devil, what damn'd Costive Poet has given thee this Lesson of Fustian to get by Rote?
Ang.I dare swear you wrong him, it is his own—And Mr. Tattle only judges of the Success of others, from the Effects of his own Merit. For certainly Mr. Tattle was never deny'd any thing in his Life.
Tatt.O Lord! yes indeed, Madam, several times.
Ang.I swear I don't think 'tis possible.
Tatt.Yes, I vow and swear I have: Lord, Madam, I'm the most unfortunate Man in the World, and the most cruelly us'd by the Ladies.
Ang.Nay, now you're ungrateful.
Tatt.No, I hope not—'tis as much Ingratitude to own some Favours, as to conceal others.
Val.There, now it's out.
Ang.I don't understand you now. I thought you had never ask'd any thing, but what a Lady might modestly grant, and you confess.
Scan.So faith, your Business is done here; now you may go brag somewhere else.
Tatt.Brag! O Heav'ns! Why, did I name any body?
Ang.No; I suppose that is not in your Power; but you wou'd if you cou'd, no doubt on't.
Tatt.Not in my Power, Madam! What does your Ladyship mean, that I have no Womans Reputation in my Power?
Scan.Ouns, why you won't own it, will you?
[Aside.Tatt.Faith, Madam, you're in the right; no more I have, as I hope to be sav'd; I never had it in my Power to say any thing to a Lady's Prejudice in my Life—For as I was telling you Madam, I have been the most unsuccessful Creature living, in things of that nature; and never had the good Fortune to be trusted once with a Lady's Secret, not once.
Ang.No.
Val.Not once, I dare answer for him.
Scan.And I'll answer for him; for I'm sure if he had, he wou'd have told me; I find, Madam, you don't know Mr. Tattle.
Tatt.No indeed, Madam, you don't know me at all, I find: For sure my intimate Friends wou'd have known—
Ang.Then it seems you would have told, if you had been trusted.
Tatt.O pox, Scandal, that was too far put—Never have told Particulars, Madam. Perhaps I might have talk'd as of a Third Person—or have introduc'd an Amour of my own, in Conversation, by way of Novel: but never have explain'd Particulars.
Ang.But whence comes the Reputation of Mr. Tattle's Secresie, if he was never trusted?
Scan.Why thence it arises—The thing is proverbially spoken; but may be apply'd to him—As if we shou'd say in general Terms, He only is Secret who never was trusted; a Satyrical Proverb upon our Sex—There's another upon yours—As she is chaste, who was never ask'd the Question. That's all.
Val.A couple of very civil Proverbs, truly: 'Tis hard to tell whether the Lady or Mr. Tattle be the more obliged to you. For you found her Vertue, upon the Backwardness of the Men; and his Secresie, upon the mistrust of the Women.
Tatt.Gad, it's very true, Madam, I think we are oblig'd to acquit our selves—And for my part—But your Ladyship is to speak first—
Ang.Am I? Well, I freely confess I have resisted a great deal of Temptation.
Tatt.And I Gad, I have given some Temptation that has not been resisted.
Val.Good.
Ang.I cite Valentine here, to declare to the Court, how fruitless he has found his Endeavours, and to confess all his Sollicitations and my Denials.
Val.I am ready to plead, Not guilty for you; and Guilty, for my self.
Scan.So, why this is fair, here's Demonstration with a Witness.
Tatt.Well, my Witnesses are not present—But I confess I have had Favours from Persons—But as the Favours are numberless, so the Persons are nameless.
Scan.Pooh, pox, this proves nothing.
Tatt.No? I can shew Letters, Locketts, Pictures, and Rings; and if there be occasion for Witnesses, I can summon the Maids at the Chocolate-Houses, all the Porters of Pall-Mall and Covent-Garden, the Door-keepers at the Play-House, the Drawers at Locket's, Pontack's, the Rummer, Spring-Garden; my own Landlady and Valet de Chambre; all who shall make Oath, that I receive more Letters than the Secretary's Office; and that I have more Vizor-Masks to enquire for me, than ever went to see the Hermaphrodite, or the Naked Prince. And it is notorious, that in a Country Church, once, an Enquiry being made, who I was, it was answer'd, I was the famous Tattle, who had ruin'd so many Women.
Val.It was there, I suppose, you got the Nick-Name of the Great Turk.
Tatt.True; I was call'd Turk-Tattle all over the Parish—The next Sunday all the Old Women kept their Daughters at home, and the Parson had not half his Congregation. He wou'd have brought me into the Spiritual Court, but I was reveng'd upon him, for he had a handsom Daughter whom I initiated into the Science. But I repented it afterwards, for it was talk'd of in Town—And a Lady of Quality that shall be nameless, in a raging Fit of Jealousie, came down in her Coach and Six Horses, and expos'd her self upon my Account; Gad, I was sorry for it with all my Heart—You know whom I mean—You know where we raffl'd—
Scan.Mum, Tattle.
Val.'Sdeath, are not you asham'd?
Ang.O barbarous! I never heard so insolent a piece of Vanity—Fie, Mr. Tattle—I'll swear I could not have believ'd it—Is this your Secresie?
Tatt.Gad so, the Heat of my Story carry'd me beyond my Discretion, as the Heat of the Lady's Passion hurry'd her beyond her Reputation—But I hope you don't know whom I mean; for there were a great many Ladies raffled—Pox on't, now could I bite off my Tongue.
Scan.No doubt on't; for then you'l tell us no more—Come, I'll recommend a Song to you upon the Hint of my two Proverbs, and I see one in the next Room that will sing it.[Goes to the Door.
Tatt.For Heavn's sake, if you do guess, say nothing; Gad, I'm very unfortunate.
Re-enter Scandal, with one to Sing.
Scan.Pray sing the first Song in the last New Play.
SONG.
Set by Mr. Iohn Eccles.
A Nymph and a Swain to Apollo once pray'd,The Swain had been Jilted, the Nymph been Betray'dTheir Intent was to try if his Oracle knewE're a Nymph that was Chaste, or a Swain that was True.
2.Apollo was mute, and had like t'have been pos'd,But sagely at length he this Secret disclos'd:He alone won't Betray in whom none will Confide,And the Nymph may be Chaste that has never been Try'd.
Enter Sir Sampson, Mrs. Frail, Miss, and Servant.
Sir Sam.Is Ben come? Odso, my Son Ben come? Odd, I'm glad on't: Where is he? I long to see him. Now, Mrs. Frail, you shall see my Son Ben—Body o'me, he's the Hopes of my Family—I han't seen him these Three Years—I warrant he's grown—Call him in, bid him make haste—I'm ready to cry for Joy.[Exit Servant.
Mrs. Frail.Now Miss, you shall see your Husband.
[Aside to Frail.Miss.Pish, he shall be none of my Husband.
Mrs. Frail.Hush: Well he shan't, leave that to me—I'll beckon Mr. Tattle to us.
Ang.Won't you stay and see your Brother?
Val.We are the Twin-Stars, and cannot shine in one Sphere; when he Rises I must Set—Besides, if I shou'd stay, I don't know but my Father in good Nature may press one to the immediate Signing the Deed of Conveyance of my Estate, and I'll deferr it as long as I can—Well, you'll come to a Resolution.
Ang.I can't. Resolution must come to me, or I shall never have one.
Scan.Come, Valentine, I'll go with you; I've something in my Head to communicate to you.[Exit Val, and Scandal.
Sir Samp.What, is my Son Valentine gone? What, is he sneak'd off, and would not see his Brother? There's an Unnatural Whelp! There's an ill natur'd Dog! What, were you here too, Madam, and could not keep him! Cou'd neither Love, nor Duty, nor Natural Affection oblige him. Odsbud, Madam, have no more to say to him; he is not worth your Consideration. The Rogue has not a Drachm of Generous Love about him: All Interest, all Interest; he's an undone Scoundrel, and courts your Estate: Body o' me, he does not care a Doit for your Person.
Ang.I'm pretty even with him, Sir Sampson; for if ever I cou'd have lik'd any thing in him, it shou'd have been his Estate too: But since that's gone, the Bait's off, and the naked Hook appears.
Sir Samp.Odsbud, well spoken; and you are a Wiser Woman than I thought you were: For most young Women now-a-days are to be tempted with a naked Hook.
Ang.If I marry, Sir Sampson, I'm for a good Estate with any Man, and for any Man with a good Estate: Therefore if I were obliged to make a Choice, I declare I'd rather have you than your Son.
Sir Samp.Faith and Troth you're a wise Woman, and I'm glad to hear you say so; I was afraid you were in Love with the Reprobate; Odd, I was sorry for you with all my Heart: Hang him, Mungrel; cast him off; you shall see the Rogue shew himself, and make Love to some desponding Cadua of Fourscore for Sustenance. Odd, I love to see a young Spendthrist forc'd to cling to an Old Woman for Support, like Ivy round a dead Oak: Faith I do; I love to see 'em hug and cotten together, like Down upon a Thistle.
Enter Ben. Legend and Servant.
Ben.Where's Father?
Serv.There, Sir, his back's toward you.
Sir Sam.My Son Ben! bless thee my dear Boy; body o' me, thou art heartily welcome.
Ben.Thank you Father, and I'm glad to see you.
Sir Sam.Odsbud, and I'm glad to see thee, kiss me Boy, kiss me again and again, dear Ben.[Kisses him.
Ben.So, so, enough Father—Mess, I'de rather kiss these Gentlewomen.
Sir Sam.And so thou shalt,—Mrs. Angelica, my Son Ben.
Ben.Forsooth an you please—[Salutes her] Nay Mistress, I'm not for dropping Anchor here; About Ship I faith—[Kisses Frail.]Nay, and you too, my little Cock-boat—so— [Kisses Miss.
Tatt.Sir, you're welcome a-shore.
Ben.Thank you, thank you Friend.
Sir Sam.Thou hast been many a weary League Ben, since I saw thee.
Ben.Ey, ey, been! Been far enough, an that be all—well Father, and how do all at home? How do's Brother Dick, and BrotherVal?
Sir Sam.Dick, body o' me, Dick has been dead these two Years; I writ you word, when you were at Legorne.
Ben.Mess, and that's true: marry I had forgot. Dick's dead as you say—well, and how? I have a many Questions to ask you; well, you be'nt Marry'd again, Father, be you?
Sir Sam.No, I intend you shall Marry, Ben; I would not Marry for thy sake.
Ben.Nay, what do's that signifie?—an you Marry again—Why then, I'll go to Sea again, so there's one for t'other, an that be all—Pray don't let me be your hindrance; e'en Marry a God's Name an the wind sit that way. As for my part, may-hap I have no mind to Marry.
Frail.That wou'd be pity, such a Handsome Young Gentleman.
Ben.Handsome! he, he, he, nay forsooth, an you be for Joking, I'll Joke with you, for I love my jest, an the Ship were sinking, as we sayn at Sea. But I'll tell you why I don't much stand towards Matrimonie. I love to roam about from Port to Port, and from Land to Land: I could never abide to be Portbound as we call it: Now a man that is marry'd, has as it were, d'ee see, his seet in the Bilboes, and may hap may'nt get 'em out again when he wou'd.
Sir SampBen's a Wagg.
Ben.A man that is marri'd, d'ee see, is no more like another man, than a Galley-slave is like one of us free Sailors, he is chain'd to an Oar all his life; and may-hap forc'd to tug a leaky Vessel into the Bargain.
Sir Samp.A very Wag, Ben's a very Wag; only a little rough, he wants a little Polishing.
Frail.Not at all; I like his humour mightily, it's plain and honest, I shou'd like such a humour in a Husband extreamly.
Ben.Say'n you so forsooth? Marry and I shou'd like such a handsome Gentlewoman for a Bed-fellow hugely, how say you Mistress, wou'd you like going to Sea? Mess you're a tight Vessel, and well rigg'd, an you were but as well Mann'd.
Frail.I shou'd not doubt that, if you were Master of me.
Ben.But I'll tell you one thing, an you come to Sea in a high Wind, or that Lady.—You mayn't carry so much Sail o'your Head—Top and Top-gallant by the Mess.
Frail.No, why so?
Ben.Why an you do, You may run the risk to be overset, and then you'll carry your Keels above Water, he, he, he.
Ang.I swear, Mr. Benjamin is the verriest Wag in nature; an absolute Sea-wit.
Sir Samp.Nay, Ben has Parts, but as I told you before, they want a little Polishing: You must not take any thing ill, Madam.
Ben.No, I hope the Gentlewoman is not angry; I mean all in good part: For if I give a Jest, I'll take a Jest: And so forsooth you may be as free with me.
Ang.I thank you, Sir, I am not at all offended;—but methinks Sir Sampson, You shou'd leave him alone with his Mistress. Mr. Tattle, we must not hinder Lovers.
[Aside to Miss.Tatt.Well Miss, I have your promise.
Sir Sam.Body o' me, Madam, you say true:—Look you Ben; this is your Mistress,—Come Miss, you must not be shame-fac'd, we'll leave you together.
Miss.I can't abide to be left alone, mayn't my Cousin stay with me?
Sir Sam.No, no. Come, let's away.
Ben.Look you Father, may-hap the young Woman may'nt take a liking to me.—
Sir Sam.I warrant thee Boy, Come, come, we'll be gone; I'll venture that.[Exeunt all but Ben and Miss.
Ben.Come Mistress, will you please to sit down, for an you stand a stern a that'n, we shall never grapple together,—Come, I'll haule a Chair; there, an you please to sit, I'll sit by you.
Miss.You need not sit so near one, if you have any thing to say, I can hear you farther off, I an't deaf.
Ben.Why that's true as you say, nor I an't dumb, I can be heard as far as another,—I'll heave off to please you. [Sits further off. An we were a League asunder, I'de undertake to hold Discourse with you, an 'twere not a main high Wind indeed, and full in my Teeth. Look you forsooth, I am as it were, bound for the Land of Matrimony; 'tis a Voyage d'ee see that was none of my seeking, I was commanded by Father, and if you like of it, may-hap I may steer into your Harbour. How say you Mistress? the short of the thing is this, that if you like me, and I like you, we may chance to swing in a Hammock together.
Miss.I don't know what to say to you, nor I don't care to speak with you at all.
Ben.No, I'm sorry for that.—But pray why are you so scornful?
Miss.As long as one must not speak one's mind, one had better not speak at all, I think, and truly I won't tell a lie for the matter.
Ben.Nay, You say true in that, it's but a folly to lie: For to speak one thing, and to think just the contrary way; is as it were, to look one way, and to row another. Now, for my part d'ee see, I'm for carrying things above Board, I'm not for keeping any thing under Hatches,—so that if you ben't as willing as I, say so a God's name, there's no harm done; may-hap you may be shame-fac'd, some Maidens thof' they love a man well enough, yet they don't care to tell'n so to's face: If that's the Case, why silence gives consent.
Miss.But I'm sure it is not so, for I'll speak sooner than you should believe that; and I'll speak truth, tho' one should always tell a lie to a man; and I don't care, let my Father do what he will; I'm too big to be whipt, so I'll tell you plainly, I don't like you, nor love you at all, nor never will, that's more: So, there's your answer for you; and don't trouble me no more, you ugly thing.
Ben.Look you Young Woman, You may learn to give good words however. I spoke you fair d'ee see, and civil.—As for your Love or your liking, I don't value it of a Rope's end;—And may-hap I like you as little as you do me:—What I said was in Obedience to Father; Gad I fear a Whipping no more than you do. But I tell you one thing, if you shou'd give such Language at Sea, you'd have a Cat o' Nine-tails laid cross your Shoulders. Flesh who are you? You heard t'other handsome Young Woman speak civilly to me, of her own accord: Whatever you think of your self, Gad I don't think you are any more to compare to her, than a Cann of Small-beer to a Bowl of Punch.
Miss.Well, and there's a handsome Gentleman, and a fine Gentleman, and a sweet Gentleman, that was here that loves me, and I love him; and if he sees you speak to me any more, he'l thrash your Jacket for you, he will, you great Sea-calf.
Ben.What, do you mean that fair-Weather Spark that was here just now? Will he thrash my Jacket?—Let'n,—let'n,—But an he comes near me, may-hap I may giv'n a Salt Eel for's Supper, for all that. What do's Father mean to leave me alone as soon as I come home, with such a dirty dowdy.—Sea-calf? I an't Calf enough to lick your Chalk'd face, You Cheese-curd you,—Marry thee! Oons I'll Marry a Lapland-Witch as soon, and live upon selling of contrary Winds, and Wrack'd Vessels.
Miss.I won't be call'd Names, nor I won't be abus'd thus, so I won't.—If I were a man,—[Crys.]—You durst not talk at this rate—No you durst nor, you stinking Tar-barrel.
Enter Mrs. Foresight, and Mrs. Frail.
Mrs. Fore.They have quarrel'd just as we cou'd wish.
Ben.Tar-barrel? Let your Sweet-heart there call me so, if he'l take your part, Your Tom Essence, and I'll say something to him; Gad I'll lace his Musk-Doublet for him, I'll make him stink; he shall smell more like a Weasel than a Civet-Cat, afore I ha' done with 'en.
Mrs. Fore.Bless me, what's the matter? Miss, what do's she cry?—Mr. Benjamin, what have you done to her?
Ben.Let her cry: The more she cries, the less she'll—she has been gathering foul weather in her Mouth, and now it rains out at her Eyes.
Mrs. Fore.Come, Miss, come along with me, and tell me, poor Child.
Frail.Lord, what shall we do, there's my Brother Foresight, and Sir Sampson coming. Sister, do you take Miss down into the Parlour, and I'll carry Mr. Benjamin into my Chamber, for they must not know that they are fall'n out.—Come, Sir, will you venture your self with me?[Looks kindly on Him.
Ben.Venture, Mess, and that I will, tho' 'twere to Sea in a Storm.[Exeunt.
Enter Sir Sampson and Foresight.
Sir Sam.I left 'em together here; What are they gone? Ben's a brisk Boy: He has got her into a Corner, Father's own Son faith, he'l touzle her, and mouzle her: The Rogue's sharp set, coming from Sea, if he should not stay for saying Grace, old Foresight, but fall too without the help of a Parson, ha? Odd if he should I cou'd not be angry with him; twould be but like me, A Chip of the Old Block. Ha! thou'rt melancholly old Prognostication; As melancholly as if thou hadst spilt the Salt, or par'd thy Nails of a Sunday:—Come, Cheer up, look about thee: Look up old Star-Gazer. Now is he poring upon the Ground for a crooked Pin, or an old Horse-nail, with the head towards him.
Fore.Sir Sampson, we'll have the Wedding to morrow morning.
Sir Samp.With all my Heart.
Fore.At Ten a Clock, punctually at Ten.
Sir Samp.To a Minute, to a Second; thou shall set thy Watch, and the Bridegroom shall observe it's Motions; they shall be married to a Minute, go to Bed to a Minute; and when the Alarm strikes, they shall keep time like the Figures of St. Dunstan's Clock, and Consummatum est shall ring all over the Parish.
Enter Scandal.
Scan.Sir Sampson, sad News.
Fore.Bless us!
Sir Samp.Why, what's the matter?
Scan.Can't you guess at what ought to afflict you and him, and all of us, more than any thing else.
Sir Samp.Body o'me, I don't know any universal Grievance, but a new Tax, and the loss of the Canary Fleet. Without Popery shou'd be landed in the West, or the French Fleet were at Anchor at Blackwall.
Scan.No. Undoubtedly Mr. Foresight knew all this, and might have prevented it.
Fore.'Tis no Earthquake!
Scan.No, not yet; nor Whirlwind. But we don't know what it may come to—But it has had a Consequence already that touches us all.
Sir Samp.Why, body o'me, out with't.
Scan.Something has appear'd to your Son Valentine—He's gone to Bed upon't, and very ill—He speaks little, yet says he has a World to say. Asks for his Father and the Wise Foresight; talks of Raymond Lully, and the Ghost of Lilly. He has Secrets to impart I suppose to you two. I can get nothing out of him but Sighs. He desires he may see you in the Morning, but would not be disturb'd to Night, because he has some Business to do in a Dream.
Sir Samp.Hoity toity, What have I to do with his Dreams or his Divination—Body o' me, this is a Trick to defer Signing the Conveyance. I warrant the Devil will tell him in a Dream, that he must not part with his Estate: But I'll bring him a Parson to tell him, that the Devil's a Liar—Or if that won't do, I'll bring a Lawyer that shall out-lie the Devil. And so I'll try whether my Black-Guard or his shall get the better of the Day.
[Exit.
[Exit.
Scan.Alas, Mr. Foresight, I'm afraid all is not right—You are a Wise Man, and a Conscientious Man; a Searcher into Obscurity and Futurity; and if you commit an Error, it is with a great deal of Consideration, and Discretion, and Caution—
Fore.Ah, good Mr. Scandal—
Scan.Nay, nay, 'tis manifest; I do not flatter you—But Sir Sampson is hasty, very hasty;—I'm afraid he is not scrupulous enough, Mr. Foresight—He has been wicked, and Heav'n grant he may mean well in his Assair with you—But my Mind gives me, these things cannot be wholly insignificant. You are wise, and shou'd not be over-reach'd, methinks you shou'd not—
Fore.Alas, Mr. Scandal—Humanum est errare.
Scan.You say true, Man will err; meer Man will err—but you are something more—There have been wise Men; but they were such as you—Men who consulted the Stars, and were Observers of Omens—Salomon was wise, but how?—by his Judgment in Astrology—So says Pineda in his Third Book and Eighth Chapter—
Fore.You are learn'd, Mr. Scandal—
Scan.A Trifler—but a Lover of Art—And the Wise Men of the East ow'd their Instruction to a Star, which is rightly observ'd by Gregory the Great in favour of Astrology! And Albertus Magnus makes it the most valuable Science, Because, says he, it teaches us to consider the Causation of Causes, in the Causes of things.
Fore.I protest I honour you, Mr. Scandal—I did not think you had been read in these matters—Few Young Men are inclin'd—
Scan.I thank my Stars that have inclin'd me—But I fear this Marriage and making over this Estate, this transferring of a rightful Inheritance, will bring Judgments upon us. I prophesie it, and I wou'd not have the Fate of Cassandra, not to be believ'd. Valentine is disturb'd, what can be the Cause of that? And Sir Sampson is hurry'd on by an unusual Violence—I fear he does not act wholly from himself; methinks he does not look as he used to do.
Fore.He was always of an impetuous Nature—But as to this marriage I have consulted the Science; and all Appearances are prosperous—
Scan.Come, come, Mr. Foresight, let not the Prospect of Worldly Lucre carry you beyond your Judgment, nor against your Conscience—You are not satisfy'd that you act justly.
Fore.How!
Scan.You are not satisfy'd, I say—I am loath to discourage you—But it is palpable that you are not satisfy'd.
Fore.How does it appear, Mr. Scandal, I think I am very well satisfy'd.
Scan.Either you suffer your self to deceive your self; or you do not know your self.
Fore.Pray explain your self.
Scan.Do you sleep well o'nights?
Fore.Very well.
Scan.Are you certain? You do not look so.
Fore.I am in Health, I think.
Scan.So was Valentine this Morning; and look'd just so.
Fore.How! Am I alter'd any way? I don't perceive it.
Scan.That may be, but your Beard is longer than it was two Hours ago.
Fore.Indeed! bless me.
Enter Mrs. Foresight.
Mrs. Fore.Husband, will you go to Bed? It's Ten a Clock. Mr. Scandal, your Servant—
Scan.Pox on her, she has interrupted my Design—But I must work her into the Project. You keep early Hours, Madam.
Mrs. Fore.Mr. Foresight is punctual, we sit up after him.
Fore.My Dear, pray lend me your Glass, your little Looking-glass.
Scan.Pray lend it him, Madam—I'll tell you the reason. [She gives him the Glass: Scandal and she whisper.] My Passion for you is grown so violent—that I am no longer Master of my self—I was interrupted in the morning, when you had Charity enough to give me your Attention, and I had Hopes of finding another opportunity of explaining my self to you—but was disappointed all this day; and the Uneasiness that has attended me ever since, brings me now hither at this unseasonable hour—
Mrs. Fore.Was there ever such Impudence, to make Love to me before my Husband's Face? I'll Swear I'll tell him.
Scan.Do, I'll dye a Martyr, rather than disclaim my Passion. But come a little farther this way, and I'll tell you what Project I had to get him out of the way; that I might have an opportunity of waiting upon you.[Whisper.[Foresight looking in the Glass.]Fore.I do not see any Revolution here;—Methinks I look with a serene and benign aspect—pale, a little pale—but the Roses of these Cheeks have been gather'd many Years;—ha! I do not like that suddain flushing—gone already!—hem, hem, hem! faintish. My Heart is pretty good; yet it beats; and my Pulses ha!—I have none—ercy on me—hum—Yes, here they are—Gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop, hey! Whither will they hurry me?—Now they're gone again—And now I'm faint again; and pale again, and hem! and my hem!—breath, hem!—grows short; hem! hem! he, he, hem!
Scan.It takes, pursue it in the name of Love and Pleasure.
Mrs. Fore.How do you do, Mr. Foresight?
Fore.Hum, not so well as I thought I was. Lend me your Hand.
Scan.Look you there now—Your Lady says your Sleep has been unquiet of late.
Fore.Very likely.
Mrs. Fore.O' mighty restless, but I was afraid to tell him so—He has been subject to Talking and Starting.
Scan.And did not use to be so.
Mrs. Fore.Never, never; till within these three Nights; I cannot say that he has once broken my Rest, since we have been Marry'd.
Fore.I will go to Bed.
Scan.Do so, Mr. Foresight, and say your Pray'rs;—He looks better than he did.
[Calls.Mrs. Fore.Nurse, Nurse!
Fore.Do you think so, Mr. Scandal?
Scan.Yes, yes, I hope this will be gone by Morning, taking it in time.—
Fore.I hope so.
Enter Nurse.
Mrs. Fore.Nurse; your Master is not well; put him to Bed.
Scan.I hope you will be able to see Valentine in the Morning,—you had best take a little Diacodion and Cowslip water, and lye upon your back, may be you may dream.
Fore.I thank you Mr. Scandal, I will—Nurse, let me have a Watch-light, and lay the Crums of Comfort by me.—
Nurse.Yes, Sir.
Fore.And—hem, hem! I am very faint.—
Scan.No, no, you look much better.
Fore.Do I? And d'ye hear—bring me, let me see—within a quarter of Twelve—hem—he, hem!—just upon the turning of the Tide, bring me the Urinal;—And I hope, neither the Lord of my Ascendant, nor the Moon will be combust; and then I may do well.
Scan.I hope so—Leave that to me; I will erect a Scheme; and I hope I shall find both Sol and Venus in the sixth House.
Fore.I thank you, Mr. Scandal, indeed that wou'd be a great Comfort to me. Hem, hem! good Night.[Exit.
Scan.Good Night, good Mr. Foresight;—and I hope Mars and Venus will be in Conjunction;—while your Wife and I are together.
Mrs. Fore.Well; and what use do you hope to make of this Project? You don't think, that you are ever-like to succeed in your design upon me.
Scan.Yes, Faith I do; I have a better Opinion both of you and my self, than to despair.
Mrs. Fore.Did you ever hear such a Toad—heark'ee Devil; do you think any Woman Honest?
Scan.Yes, several, very honest;—they'll cheat a little at Cards, sometimes, but that's nothing.
Mrs. Fore.Pshaw! but Vertuous, I mean.
Scan.Yes, Faith, I believe some Women are Vertuous too; but 'tis as I believe some Men are Valiant, thro' fear—For why shou'd a Man court Danger, or a Woman shun Pleasure.
Mrs. Fore.O Monstrous! What are Conscience and Honour?
Scan.Why, Honour is a publick Enemy; and Conscience a Domestick Thief; and he that wou'd secure his Pleasure, must pay a Tribute to one, and go halves with the t'other. As for Honour, that you have secur'd, for you have purchas'd a perpetual opportunity for Pleasure.
Mrs. Fore.An Opportunity for Pleasure!
Scan.Aye, your Husband, a Husband is an opportunity for Pleasure, so you have taken care of Honour, and 'tis the least I can do to take care of Conscience.
Mrs. Fore.And so you think we are free for one another?
Scan.Yes Faith, I think so; I love to speak my mind.
Mrs. Fore.Why then I'll speak my mind. Now as to this Affair between you and me. Here you make love to me; why, I'll confess it does not displease me. Your Person is well enough, and your Understanding is not a-miss.
Scan.I have no great Opinion of my self; yet I think, I'm neither Deform'd, nor a Fool.
Mrs. Fore.But you have a Villanous Character; you are a Libertine in Speech, as well as Practice.
Scan.Come, I know what you wou'd say,—you think it more dangerous to be seen in Conversation with me, than to allow some other Men the last Favour; you mistake, the liberty I take in Talking, is purely affected, for the Service of your Sex. He that first cries out stop Thief, is often he that has stolen the Treasure. I am a Jugler, that act by Confederacy; and if you please, we'll put a Trick upon the world.
Mrs. Fore.Aye; but you are such an universal Jugler,—that I'm afraid you have a great many Confederates.
Scan.Faith, I'm sound.
Mrs. Fore.O, fie—I'll Swear you're Impudent.
Scan.I'll Swear your Handsome.
Mrs. Fore.Pish, you'd tell me so, tho' you did not think so.
Scan.And you'd think so, tho' I should not tell you so: And now I think we know one another pretty well.
Mrs. Fore.O Lord, who's here?
Enter Mrs. Frail, and Ben.
Ben.Mess, I love to speak my mind—Father has nothing to do with me—Nay, I can't say that neither; he has something to do with me. But what do's that signifie? If so be, that I ben't minded to be steer'd by him; 'tis as tho'f he should strive against Wind and Tyde.
Mrs. Frail.Aye, but my Dear, we must keep it secret, till the Estate be setled; for you know, Marrying without an Estate, is like Sailing in a Ship without Ballast.
Ben.He, he, he; why that's true; just so for all the World it is indeed, as like as two Cable Ropes.
Mrs. Frail.And tho' I have a good Portion; you know one wou'd not venture all in one bottom.
Ben.Why that's true again; for may-hap one bottom may spring a Leak. You have hit it indeed, Mess you've nick'd the Channel.
Mrs. Frail.Well, but if you shou'd forsake me after all, you'd break my Heart.
Ben.Break your Heart? I'de rather the Mary-gold shou'd break her Cable in a storm, as well as I love her. Flesh, you don't think I'm false-hearted, like a Land-man. A Sailer will be honest, tho'f may-hap he has never a Penny of Mony in his Pocket—May-hap I may not have so fair a Face, as a Citizen or a Courtier; but for all that, I've as good Blood in my Veins, and a Heart as sound as a Bisket.
Mrs. Frail.And will you love me always?
Ben.Nay, an I love once, I'll stick like pitch; I'll tell you that. Come, I'll sing you a Song of a Sailor.
Mrs. Frail.Hold, there's my Sister, I'll call her to hear it.
Mrs. Fore.Well; I won't go to Bed to my Husband to Night; because I'll retire to my own Chamber, and think of what you have said.
Scan.Well; You'll give me leave to wait upon you to your Chamber-door; and leave you my last Instructions?
Mrs. Fore.Hold, here's my Sister coming toward us.
Mrs. Frail.If it won't interrupt you, I'll entertain you with a Song.
Ben.The Song was made upon one of our Ships-Crew's Wife; our Boat-swain made the Song, may-hap you may know her, Sir. Before she was Marry'd, she was call'd buxom Joan of Deptford.
Scan.I have heard of her.
Ben. Sings.
BALLAD.
Set by Mr. John Eccles.
A Souldier and a Sailor,A Tinker, and a Tailor,Had once a doubtful strife, Sir,To make a Maid a Wife, Sir,Whose Name was Buxom Joan.For now the time was ended,When she no more intended,To lick her Lips at Men, Sir,And gnaw the Sheets in vain, Sir,And lie o' Nights alone.
2.The Souldier Swore like Thunder,He lov'd her more than Plunder;And shew'd her many a Scar, Sir,That he had brought from far, Sir.With Fighting for her sake.The Tailor thought to please her,With off'ring her his Measure.The Tinker too with Mettle,Said he could mend her Kettle,And stop up ev'ry leak.
3.But while these three were prating,The Sailor slily waiting,Thought if it came about, Sir,That they should all fall out, Sir:He then might play his part.And just e'en as he meant, Sir,To Loggerheads they went, Sir, And then he let fly at her,A shot 'twixt wind and water,That won this Fair Maids Heart.
Ben.If some of our Crew that came to see me, are not gone; you shall see, that we Sailors can Dance sometimes, as well as other Folks.[Whistles.I warrant that brings 'em, an' they be within hearing.
Enter Seamen.
Oh here they be—And Fiddles along with 'em; come, my Lads, let's have a round, and I'll make one.[Dance.
Ben.We're merry Folk, we Sailors, we han't much to care for. Thus we live at Sea; eat Bisket, and drink Flip; put on a clean Shirt once a Quarter—Come home and lie with our Landladies once a Year, get rid of a little Mony; and then put off with the next fair wind. How de'e like us?
Mrs. Frail.O' you are the happiest, merriest Men alive.
Mrs. Fore.We're beholding to Mr. Benjamin for this Entertainment.I believe it's late.
Ben.Why, forsooth, an you think so, you had best go to Bed. For my part, I mean to toss a Can, and remember my Sweet-Heart, a-fore I turn in; may-hap I may dream of her.
Mrs. Fore.Mr. Scandal, you had best go to Bed and Dream too.
Scan.Why Faith, I have a good lively Imagination; and can Dream as much to the purpose as another, if I set about it: But Dreaming is the poor retreat of a lazy, hopeless, and imperfect Lover; 'tis the last glimpse of Love to worn-out Sinners, and the faint dawning of a Bliss to wishing Girls, and growing Boys.There's nought but willing, waking Love, that canMake Blest the Ripen'd Maid, and Finish'd Man. [Exeunt.
The End of the Third Act.