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+text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: .1em;} + +.smallroman, .smaller {font-size: 75%;} +.smallcaps {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} +.extended {letter-spacing: 0.2em;} +.ital {font-style: italic;} + + +/* my additions */ + +ins.correction {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted red;} + +span.pagenum {position: absolute; right: 3%; font-size: 90%; +font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-align: right; +text-indent: 0em;} +span.pagenum.notes {color: #666; background-color: #FFF; +font-size: 85%; border: none;} +.pagenum.notes:before {content: "[";} +.pagenum.notes:after {content: "]";} + +.mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; font-family: sans-serif; +font-size: 90%;} + +div.mynote {margin: 1em 5%; padding: .5em 1em 1em;} +p.mynote {margin: 1em 5%; padding: 1em;} + +div.endnote {padding: .5em 1em 1em; margin: 1em; border: 3px ridge #A9F; +font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 90%;} + +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Works of Aphra Behn + Volume IV. + +Author: Aphra Behn + +Editor: Montague Summers + +Release Date: November 15, 2008 [EBook #27273] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF APHRA BEHN *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, Wendy Bertsch and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h4>THE WORKS</h4> + +<h6>OF</h6> + +<h2>APHRA BEHN</h2> + +<h6 class="smallcaps">Edited by</h6> + +<h5>MONTAGUE SUMMERS</h5> + +<p> </p> + +<h5>VOL. IV</h5> + +<h5 class="smallcaps"> +Sir Patient Fancy<br> +The Amorous Prince—The Widow Ranter<br> +The Younger Brother</h5> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="illustration"> +<img src="images/publogo.gif" width="91" height="92" +alt="publisher’s device: W H and windmill"> +</p> + +<p> </p> + +<h6>LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN<br> +STRATFORD-ON-AVON: A. H. BULLEN<br> +MCMXV</h6> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<h4><a name="contents" id="contents">CONTENTS.</a></h4> + +<p class="mynote"> +The plays are located in two separate files, together with their +respective Notes.</p> + +<table class="toc" summary="table of contents"> +<tr> +<td></td> +<td class="number smallroman">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a href="#patient">SIR PATIENT FANCY</a></p></td> +<td class="number">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a href="#prince">THE AMOROUS PRINCE</a></p></td> +<td class="number">117</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a href="#widow">THE WIDOW RANTER</a></p></td> +<td class="number">215</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a href="#brother">THE YOUNGER BROTHER;<br> +OR, THE AMOROUS JILT</a></p></td> +<td class="number">311</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>NOTES</td> +<td class="number">401</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<span class="pagenum">423</span> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Printed by <span class="smallcaps">A. H. Bullen</span>, at the +Shakespeare Head Press, Stratford-upon-Avon.</i></p> + +<hr><hr> + +<span class="pagenum">1</span> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<h3><a name="patient" id="patient">SIR PATIENT FANCY.</a></h3> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">2</span> + +<p class="mynote"> +Scenes described in (parentheses) are unnumbered.</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p><a href="#patient_arg">Argument.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#patient_source">Source.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#patient_hist">Theatrical History.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_reader">To the Reader</a></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_pro">Prologue.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_cast">Dramatis Personæ.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_actI">Act I.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actI_sceneI">Scene I.</a> +<i>A Room in Lady Knowell’s House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actI_sceneIa">(<i>A Chair and a Table</i>)</a></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_actII">Act II.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> +<i>A Garden to Sir Patient Fancy’s House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> +<i>A Chamber.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_actIII">Act III.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> +<i>A room in Sir Patient Fancy’s house</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> +<i>Lady Knowell’s Chamber</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Garden.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>A Chamber</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneV">Scene V.</a> <i>A Garden.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneVI">Scene VI.</a> +<i>Lady Fancy’s Anti-chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneVII">Scene VII.</a> +<i>Lady Fancy’s Bed-chamber</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneVIII">Scene VIII.</a> +<i>The Garden.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIII_sceneIX">Scene IX.</a> +<i>The long Street</i></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_actIV">Act IV.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> +<i>Lady Knowell’s House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> +<i>A Chamber in Sir Patient Fancy’s House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Hall.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actIV_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> +<i>Lady Fancy’s Bed-Chamber.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_actV">Act V.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#patient_actV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> +<i>A Room in Sir Patient Fancy’s House.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#patient_epi">Epilogue.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#patient_notes">Notes to <i>Sir Patient Fancy</i></a></p> + +<div class="intro"> + +<span class="pagenum">3</span> + +<h4><a name="patient_arg" id="patient_arg">ARGUMENT.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">Sir</span> Patient Fancy, a hypochondriacal +old alderman, has taken a second wife, Lucia, a young and beautiful +woman who, although feigning great affection and the strictest conjugal +fidelity, intrigues with a gallant, Charles Wittmore, the only obstacle +to their having long since married being mutual poverty. However, the +jealousy and uxoriousness of the doting husband give the lovers few +opportunities; on one occasion, indeed, as Lady Fancy is entertaining +Wittmore in the garden they are surprised by Sir Patient, and she is +obliged to pass her visitor off under the name of Fainlove as a suitor +to her step-daughter, Isabella, in which rôle he is accepted by Sir +Patient. But Isabella has betrothed herself to Lodwick, a son of +the pedantic Lady Knowell: whilst Lucretia Knowell loves Leander, the +alderman’s nephew, in spite of the fact that she is promised by her +mother to Sir Credulous Easy, a bumpkinly knight from Devonshire. +Lodwick, who is a close friend of Leander, has been previously known to +Sir Credulous, and resolving to trick and befool the coxcomb warmly +welcomes him on his arrival in town. He persuades him, in fine, to give +a ridiculous serenade, or, rather, a hideous hubbub, of noisy +instruments under his mistress’ window. A little before this Lady +Knowell with a party of friends has visited Sir Patient, who is her next +neighbour, and the loud laughter, talking, singing and foppery so enrage +the precise old valetudinarian that he resolves to leave London +immediately for his country house, a circumstance which would be +fatal to his wife’s amours. Wittmore and she, however, persuade him that +he is very ill, and on being shown his face in a looking-glass that +magnifies instead of in his ordinary mirror, he imagines that he is +suddenly swollen and puffed with disease, and so is led lamenting to +bed, leaving the coast clear for the nonce. Isabella, however, has made +an assignation with Lodwick at the same time that her stepmother eagerly +awaits her own gallant, and in the dark young Knowell is by mistake +escorted to Lucia’s chamber, whilst Wittmore encountering Isabella, and +thinking her Lady Fancy, proceeds to act so amorously that the error is +soon discovered and the girl flies from his ardour. In her hurry, +however, she rushes blundering into Lucia’s bedchamber, where she finds +Knowell. It is just at this moment that Sir Credulous Easy’s deafening +fanfare re-echoes in the street, and Sir Patient, awakened and +half-stunned by the pandemonium, is led grouty and bawling into his +wife’s room, where he discovers Knowell, whom Lucia has all this time +taken for Wittmore; but her obvious confusion and dismay thereon are +such that Sir Patient does not suspect the real happenings, which she +glozes over with a tale concerning Isabella. Meantime the serenaders are +dispersed and routed by a band of the alderman’s servants and clerks. +Sir Credulous courting Lucretia, who loathes him, meets Knowell bringing +a tale of a jealous rival able to poison at a distance by means of some +strangely subtle venom, upon which the Devonshire knight conceals +himself in a basket, hoping to be conveyed away to +<span class="pagenum">4</span> +his old uncle in Essex, whereas he is merely transported next door. Sir +Patient, who surprises his lady writing a love-letter, which she turns +off by appending Isabella’s name thereto, is so overwhelmed with her +seeming affection and care for his family that he presents her with +eight thousand pounds in gold and silver, and resolves to marry his +daughter to Fainlove (Wittmore) without any further delay. But whilst he +is gone down to prayers and Lucia is entertaining her lover, the old +nurse informs him that his little daughter Fanny has long been privy to +an intrigue between Knowell and Isabella, whereupon, in great +perturbation, he rushes upstairs again to consult with his wife, who +hurries Wittmore under the bed. Sir Patient, however, warmed with +cordials which he quaffs to revive his drooping spirits, does not offer +to quit the chamber, but lies down on the bed, and the gallant is only +enabled to slip out unobserved after several accidents each of which +nearly betrays his presence. Upon the marriage morning Isabella in a +private interview rejects her pseudo-suitor with scorn and contumely, +whereat Knowell, who has of intent been listening, reveals to her that +it is his friend Wittmore and no real lover who is seemingly courting +her, and with his help, whilst Sir Patient is occupied with a +consultation of doctors (amongst whom Sir Credulous appears disguised as +a learned member of the faculty), Isabella and Knowell are securely +married. Lady Knowell, who has feigned a liking for Leander, generously +gives him to Lucretia, Sir Patient’s attention being still engrossed by +the physicians who assemble in great force. Soon after, at Leander’s +instigation, in order to test his wife, Sir Patient feigns to be dead of +a sudden apoplexy, and for a few moments, whilst others are present, +Lucia laments him with many plaints and tears, but immediately changes +when she is left alone with Wittmore. The lovers’ plans, however, are +overheard by the husband, who promptly confronts his wife with her +duplicity. Amazed and confounded indeed, he forgives Leander and his +daughter for marrying contrary to his former wishes; and when Lucia +coolly announces her intention to play the hypocrite and puritan no +more, but simply to enjoy herself with the moneys he has settled on her +without let or proviso, he humorously declares he will for his part also +drop the prig and canter, and turn town gallant and spark.</p> + + +<h4><a name="patient_source" id="patient_source">SOURCE.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">In</span> spite of Mrs. Behn’s placid +assertion in her address ‘To the Reader’ that she has only taken ‘but a +very bare hint’ from a foreign source, <i>Le Malade Imaginaire</i>, the +critics who cried out that <i>Sir Patient Fancy</i> ‘was made out of at +least four French plays’ are patently right. Sir Patient is, of course, +Argan throughout and in detail; moreover, in the scene where the old +alderman feigns death, there is very copious and obvious borrowing from +Act iii of <i>Le Malade Imaginaire</i>. Some of the doctors’ lingo also +comes from the third and final interlude of Molière’s comedy, whilst the +idea of the medical consultation is pilfered from <i>L’Amour +Médecin</i>, Act ii, <span class="smallroman">II</span>. Sir Credulous +Easy is Monsieur de Porceaugnac, but his first entrance is taken +wholesale from Brome’s <i>The Damoiselle; or, The New Ordinary</i> (8vo, +1653), Act ii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>, where Amphilus and +Trebasco discourse exactly as do Curry and his master. The pedantic Lady +Knowell is a mixture of Philaminte and +<span class="pagenum">5</span> +Bélise from <i>Les Femmes Savantes</i>. The circumstance in Act iv, +<span class="smallroman">II</span>, when Lucia, to deceive her +husband, appends Isabella’s name to the love-letter she has herself just +written, had already been used by Wycherley at the commencement of Act v +of that masterpiece of comedy, <i>The Country Wife</i> (4to, 1675, +produced in 1672), where Mrs. Pinchwife, by writing ‘your slighted +Alithea’ as the subscription of a letter, completely befools her +churlish spouse.</p> + +<p>Molière’s comedies, which were so largely conveyed in <i>Sir Patient +Fancy</i>, have been a gold mine for many of our dramatists. From <i>Le +Malade Imaginaire</i> Miller took his <i>Mother-in-Law; or, The Doctor +the Disease</i>, produced at the Haymarket, 12 February, 1734, and Isaac +Bickerstaffe, <i>Dr. Last in his Chariot</i>, produced at the same +theatre 25 August, 1769. In this farce Bickerstaffe further introduces +the famous consultation scene from <i>L’Amour Médecin</i>, a play +which had been made use of by Lacy, <i>The Dumb Lady; or, The Farrier +made a Physician</i> (1672); by Owen Swiney, <i>The Quacks; or, Love’s +the Physician</i>, produced at Drury Lane, 18 March, 1705; by Miller, +<i>Art and Nature</i>, produced at the same theatre 16 February, 1738; +and in an anonymous one act piece, which is little more than a bare +translation under the title <i>Love is the Doctor</i>, performed once +only at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 4 April, 1734.</p> + +<p><i>Monsieur de Pourceaugnac</i> supplied Ravenscroft with material no +less than three times. In <i>Mamamouchi; or, The Citizen turn’d +Gentleman</i>, acted early in 1672, we have Sir Simon Softhead, who is +Pourceaugnac in detail; in <i>The Careless Lovers</i>, produced at the +Duke’s House in 1673, and again in <i>The Canterbury Guests; or, +A Bargain Broken</i>, played at the Theatre Royal in 1694, we have +<i>in extenso</i> Act ii, Scenes <span class="smallroman">VIII</span>, +<span class="smallroman">IX</span>, <span class="smallroman">X</span>, of the French comedy. Crowne’s Sir Mannerley +Shallow (<i>The Country Wit</i>, 1675) comes from the same source. +<i>Squire Trelooby</i>, produced at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 20 March, +1704, and revived as <i>The Cornish Squire</i> at Drury Lane, 3 January, +1734, is ascribed to Vanbrugh, Congreve, and Walsh; but this, as well as +a farce produced at Dublin in 1720 by Charles Shadwell and entitled +<i>The Plotting Lovers; or, The Dismal Squire</i>, cannot claim to be +anything but translations. Miller’s <i>Mother-in-Law</i>, again, +includes much of <i>Monsieur de Pourceaugnac</i>; and Thomas Sheridan’s +<i>Captain O’Blunder; or, The Brave Irishman</i>, produced at Goodman’s +Fields, 31 January, 1746, is a poor adaptation. Mrs. Parsons abbreviated +Molière to <i>The Intrigues of a Morning</i>, played at Covent Garden, +18 April, 1792, a jejune effort. <i>Les Femmes Savantes</i> was +rather racily transformed by Thomas Wright into <i>The Female +Virtuosoes</i>, and produced at Drury Lane in 1693. It was revived as +<i>No Fools like Wits</i> at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 10 January, 1721, to +anticipate Cibber’s <i>The Refusal; or, The Ladies’ Philosophy</i>, +which had a run of six nights. Miller, in his <i>The Man of Taste</i>, +once more had resource to Molière. His play was produced at Drury Lane, +6 March, 1735. It has no value.</p> + +<p>Of all these borrowers Mrs. Behn is infinitely the best. <i>Sir +Patient Fancy</i> is, indeed, an excellent comedy, and had she used more +leisure might have been improved to become quite first rate. Perhaps she +plagiarized so largely owing to the haste with which her play was +written and staged, but yet <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘eveything’">everything</ins> she touched has been invested with +an irresistible humour. A glaring example of her hurry remains in +the fact that the ‘precise clerk’ +<span class="pagenum">6</span> +of Sir Patient has a double nomenclature. In Act iii he appears as Abel; +in Act iv, <span class="smallroman">III</span>, he is referred to as +Bartholomew, and under this last name has an exit marked in Act v. This +character is only on the stage twice and is given but some three or four +lines to speak. Obviously, when writing her fourth act, Aphra forgot she +had already christened him.</p> + + +<h4><a name="patient_hist" id="patient_hist">THEATRICAL +HISTORY.</a></h4> + +<p><i>Sir Patient Fancy</i> was produced at the Duke’s Theatre, Dorset +Garden, in January, 1678, with an exceptionally strong cast which +included both Betterton and his wife. It met with the great success it +fully deserved. The critics, indeed, were not slow to detect Mrs. Behn’s +plagiarisms, but the only real opposition was negligible disapproval of +a modest clique, who a few years later vainly tried to damn <i>The Lucky +Chance</i>. After the death of the two famous comedians Antony Leigh and +James Nokes in December, 1692, <i>Sir Patient Fancy</i>, owing to the +inability of succeeding actors to sustain the two rôles, Sir Patient and +Sir Credulous, which had been created by this gifted pair, completely +dropped out of the repertory of the theatre. It was not singular in its +fate, for Cibber expressly tells us that D’Urfey’s excellent comedy +<i>The Fond Husband</i>, and Crowne’s satirical <i>City Politics</i>, +‘lived only by the extraordinary performance of Nokes and Leigh.’</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<div class="play"> + +<span class="pagenum">7</span> +<h4><a name="patient_reader" id="patient_reader"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag1" id="patient_texttag1" +href="#patient_textnote1">TO THE READER.</a> </h4> + + +<p>I Printed this Play with all the impatient haste one ought to do, who +would be vindicated from the most unjust and silly aspersion, Woman +could invent to cast on Woman; and which only my being a Woman has +procured me; <i>That it was Baudy</i>, the least and most Excusable +fault in the Men writers, to whose Plays they all crowd, as if they came +to no other end than to hear what they condemn in this: <i>but from a +Woman it was unnaturall</i>: but how so Cruell an unkindness came into +their imaginations I can by no means guess; unless by those whose Lovers +by long absence, or those whom Age or Ugliness have rendered a little +distant from those things they would fain imagin here—But if such +as these durst profane their Chast ears with hearing it over again, or +taking it into their serious Consideration in their Cabinets; they would +find nothing that the most innocent Virgins can have cause to blush at: +but confess with me that no Play either Ancient or Modern has less of +that Bug-bear Bawdry in it. Others <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag1" id="patient_commtag1" href="#patient_commnote1">to show their breeding (as <i>Bays</i> sayes)</a> +cryed it was made out of at least four <i>French</i> Plays, when I had +but a very bare hint from one, the <i>Malad Imagenere</i>, which was +given me translated by a Gentleman infinitely to advantage; but how much +of the <i>French</i> is in this, I leave to those who do indeed +understand it and have seen it at the Court. The play had no other +Misfortune but that of coming out for a Womans: had it been owned by a +Man, though the most Dull Unthinking Rascally Scribler in Town, it had +been a most admirable Play. Nor does it’s loss of Fame with the Ladies +do it much hurt, though they ought to have had good Nature and justice +enough to have attributed all its faults to the Authours unhappiness, +who is forced to write for Bread and not ashamed to owne it, and +consequently ought to write to please (if she can) an Age which has +given severall proofs it was by this way of writing to be obliged, +though it is a way too cheap for men of wit to pursue who write for +Glory, and a way which even I despise as much below me.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">8</span> + +<div class="play"> + +<h3><a name="patient_text" id="patient_text">SIR PATIENT +FANCY.</a></h3> + + +<h4><a name="patient_pro" id="patient_pro">PROLOGUE,</a></h4> + +<h5>Spoken by Mr. <i>Betterton</i>.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">We</span> write not now, as th’ antient +Poets writ,</p> +<p>For your Applause of Nature, Sense and Wit;</p> +<p>But, like good Tradesmen, what’s in fashion vent,</p> +<p>And cozen you, to give ye all content.</p> +<p>True Comedy, writ even in <em>Dryden’s</em> Style,</p> +<p>Will hardly raise your Humours to a Smile.</p> +<p>Long did his Sovereign Muse the Scepter sway,</p> +<p>And long with Joy you did true Homage pay:</p> +<p>But now, like happy States, luxurious grown,</p> +<p>The Monarch Wit unjustly you dethrone,</p> +<p>And a <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘Tryannick’">Tyrannick</ins> Commonwealth prefer,</p> +<p>Where each small Wit starts up and claims his share;</p> +<p>And all those Laurels are in pieces torn,</p> +<p>Which did e’er while one sacred Head adorn.</p> +<p>Nay, even the Women now pretend to reign;</p> +<p>Defend us from a Poet <em>Joan</em> again!</p> +<p>That Congregation’s in a hopeful way</p> +<p>To Heaven, where the Lay-Sisters teach and pray.</p> +<p>Oh the great Blessing of a little Wit!</p> +<p>I’ve seen an elevated Poet sit,</p> +<p>And hear the Audience laugh and clap, yet say,</p> +<p>Gad after all, ’tis a damn’d silly Play:</p> +<p>He unconcern’d, cries only—Is it so?</p> +<p>No matter, these unwitty things will do,</p> +<p>When your fine fustian useless Eloquence</p> +<p>Serves but to chime asleep a drousy Audience.</p> +<span class="pagenum">9</span> +<p>Who at the vast expence of Wit would treat,</p> +<p>That might so cheaply please the Appetite?</p> +<p>Such homely Fare you’re like to find to night:</p> +<p>Our Author</p> +<p>Knows better how to juggle than to write:</p> +<p>Alas! a Poet’s good for nothing now,</p> +<p>Unless he have the knack of conjuring too;</p> +<p>For ’tis beyond all natural Sense to guess</p> +<p>How their strange Miracles are brought to pass.</p> +<p>Your Presto Jack be gone, and come again,</p> +<p>With all the Hocus Art of Legerdemain;</p> +<p>Your dancing Tester, Nut-meg, and your Cups,</p> +<p>Out-does your Heroes and your amorous Fops.</p> +<p>And if this chance to please you, by that rule,</p> +<p>He that writes Wit is much the greater Fool.</p> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">10</span> + +<h4><a name="patient_cast" id="patient_cast"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag2" id="patient_texttag2" +href="#patient_textnote2">DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</a> +</h4> + +<table class="cast" summary="cast of characters"> +<tr> +<td class="header" colspan="2">MEN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sir <i>Patient Fancy</i>, an old rich Alderman, and one that +fancies himself always sick,</p></td> +<td class="bracket" width="33%"> +Mr. <i>Anthony Leigh</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><i>Leander Fancy</i>, his Nephew, in love with +<i>Lucretia</i>,</p></td> +<td class="bracket"> +Mr. <i>Crosby</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><i>Wittmore</i>, Gallant to the Lady <i>Fancy</i>, a wild +young Fellow of a small Fortune,</p></td> +<td class="bracket"> +Mr. <i>Betterton</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><i>Lodwick Knowell</i>, Son to the Lady <i>Knowell</i>, in love +with <i>Isabella</i>,</p></td> +<td class="bracket"> +Mr. <i>Smith</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sir <i>Credulous Easy</i>, a foolish <i>Devonshire</i> Knight, +design’d to marry <i>Lucretia</i>,</p></td> +<td class="bracket"> +Mr. <i>Nokes</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Curry</i>, his Groom,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Richards</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Roger</i>, Footman to the Lady <i>Fancy</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Abel (Bartholomew)</i>, Clerk to Sir <i>Patient Fancy</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Brunswick</i>, a friend to <i>Lodwick Knowell</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Monsieur <i>Turboon</i>, a French Doctor.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Fat Doctor.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>An Amsterdam Doctor.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Leyden Doctor.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Page to the Lady <i>Knowell</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"> +<p>Guests, Six Servants to Sir <i>Patient</i>, Ballad-Singers and +Serenaders.</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="header" colspan="2">WOMEN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Lady <i>Fancy</i>, Young Wife to Sir <i>Patient</i>,</p></td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Currer</i>. +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Lady <i>Knowell</i>, an affected learned Woman, Mother to +<i>Lodwick</i> and <i>Lucretia</i>,</p></td> +<td class="bracket"> +Mrs. <i>Gwin</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Lucretia</i>, Daughter to the L. <i>Knowell</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Price</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><i>Isabella</i>, Daughter to Sir <i>Patient Fancy</i>,</p></td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Betterton</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><i>Fanny</i>, a Child of seven Years old, Daughter to Sir +<i>Patient Fancy</i>.</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Maundy</i>, the Lady <i>Fancy’s</i> Woman,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Gibbs</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Betty</i>, Waiting-woman to <i>Isabella</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Antic</i>, Waiting-woman to <i>Lucretia</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Nurse.</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p class="center">SCENE <i>London</i>, in two Houses.</p> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">11</span> + +<div class="play"> + +<h3 class="act"><a name="patient_actI" id="patient_actI"> +ACT I.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actI_sceneI" id="patient_actI_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +A Room <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag3" id="patient_texttag3" href="#patient_textnote3">in Lady +<em>Knowell’s</em> House</a>.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lucretia</em> with <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +’Tis much I owe to Fortune, my dear <i>Lucretia</i>, for being so kind +to make us Neighbours, where with Ease we may continually exchange our +Souls and Thoughts without the attendance of a Coach, and those other +little Formalities that make a Business of a Visit; it looks so like a +Journey, I hate it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Attendance is that Curse to Greatness that confines the Soul, and spoils +good Humour; we are free whilst thus alone, and can laugh at the +abominable Fopperies of this Town.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And lament the numberless Impertinences wherewith they continually +plague all young Women of Quality.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Yet these are the precious things our grave Parents still chuse out to +make us happy with, and all for a filthy Jointure, the undeniable +argument for our Slavery to Fools.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Custom is unkind to our Sex, not to allow us free Choice; but we above +all Creatures must be forced to endure the formal Recommendations of a +Parent, and the more insupportable Addresses of an odious Fop; whilst +the Obedient Daughter stands—thus—with her Hands pinn’d +before her, a set Look, few Words, and a Mein that cries—Come +marry me: out upon’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +I perceive then, whatever your Father designs, you are resolv’d to love +your own way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Thou mayst lay thy Maidenhead upon’t, and be sure of the Misfortune to +win.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +My Brother <i>Lodwick’s</i> like to be a happy Man then.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">12</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Faith, my dear <i>Lodwick</i> or no body in my heart, and I hope thou +art as well resolv’d for my Cousin <i>Leander</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Here’s my Hand upon’t, I am; yet there’s something sticks upon my +stomach, which you must know.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Spare the Relation, for I have observ’d of late your Mother to have +order’d her Eyes with some softness, her Mouth endeavouring to sweeten +it self into Smiles and Dimples, as if she meant to recal Fifteen again, +and gave it all to <i>Leander</i>, for at him she throws her Darts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Is’t possible thou should’st have perceived it already?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Long since.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +And now I begin to love him, ’twould vex me to see my Mother marry +him—well, I shall never call him Father.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +He’ll take care to give himself a better Title.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +This <i>Devonshire</i> Knight too, who is recommended to my Mother as a +fit Husband for me, I shall be so tormented with—My Brother +swears he’s the pertest, most unsufferable Fool he ever saw; when he was +at my Uncle’s last Summer, he made all his Diversion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Prithee let him make ours now, for of all Fops your Country Fop is the +most tolerable Animal; those of the Town are the most unmanagable Beasts +in Nature.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +And are the most noisy, keeping Fops.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Keeping begins to be as ridiculous as Matrimony, and is a greater +Imposition upon the Liberty of Man; the Insolence and Expence of their +Mistresses has almost tir’d out all but the Old and Doting part of +Mankind: The rest begin to know their value, and set a price upon a good +Shape, a tolerable Face and Mein:—and some there are who have +made excellent Bargains for themselves that way, and will flatter ye and +jilt ye an Antiquated Lady as artfully as the most experienc’d Miss of +’em all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Lord, Lord! what will this World come to?—but this Mother of +mine—<i>Isabella.</i> +<span class="stagedir">Sighs.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">13</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Is discreet and virtuous enough, a little too affected, as being +the most learned of her Sex.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Methinks to be read in the Arts, as they call ’em, is the peculiar +Province of the other Sex.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Indeed the Men would have us think so, and boast their Learning and +Languages; but if they can find any of our Sex fuller of Words, and to +so little purpose as some of their Gownmen, I’ll be content to change my +Petticoats for Pantaloons, and go to a Grammar-school.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Oh, they’re the greatest Babelards in Nature.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +They call us easy and fond, and charge us with all weakness; but look +into their Actions of Love, State or War, their roughest business, and +you shall find ’em sway’d by some who have the luck to find their +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag4" id="patient_texttag4" href="#patient_textnote4">Foibles</a>; witness my Father, a Man +reasonable enough, till drawn away by doting Love and Religion: what a +Monster my young Mother makes of him! flatter’d him first into +Matrimony, and now into what sort of Fool or Beast she pleases to make +him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +I wonder she does not turn him to Christianity; methinks a Conventicle +should ill agree with her Humour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Oh, she finds it the only way to secure her from his Suspicion, which if +she do not e’er long give him cause for, I am mistaken in her +Humour.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter L. <em>Knowell</em> and <em>Leander</em>.</p> + +<p>But see your Mother and my Cousin <i>Leander</i>, who seems, poor +man, under some great Consternation, for he looks as gravely as a +Lay-Elder conducting his Spouse from a Sermon.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, fy upon’t. See, Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, where your Cousin and my +<i>Lucretia</i> are idling: <i>Dii boni</i>, what an insupportable loss +of time’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Which might be better imploy’d, if I might instruct ’em, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Ay, Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, in Consultation with the +<span class="pagenum">14</span> +Antients.—Oh the delight of Books! when I was of their age, +I always imploy’d my looser Hours in reading—if serious, +’twas <i>Tacitus</i>, <i>Seneca</i>, <i>Plutarch’s Morals</i>, or some +such useful Author; if in an Humour gay, I was for Poetry, +<i>Virgil</i>, <i>Homer</i> or <i>Tasso</i>. Oh that Love between +<i>Renaldo</i> and <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag2" id="patient_commtag2" href="#patient_commnote2"><i>Armida</i></a>, Mr. +<i>Fancy</i>! Ah the Caresses that fair <i>Corcereis</i> gave, and +received from the young Warrior, ah how soft, delicate and tender! Upon +my Honour I cannot read them in the Excellence of their Original +Language, without I know not what Emotions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Methinks ’tis very well in our Mother Tongue, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +O, Faugh, Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, what have you said, Mother Tongue! Can any +thing that’s great or moving be express’d in filthy +<i>English</i>?—I’ll give you an Energetical proof, Mr. +<i>Fancy</i>; observe but divine <i>Homer</i> in the <i>Grecian</i> +Language—<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag5" id="patient_texttag5" href="#patient_textnote5"><i>Ton d’ apamibominous +prosiphe podas ochus Achilleus!</i></a> Ah how it sounds! which +English’t dwindles into the most grating stuff:—Then the +swift-foot <i>Achilles</i> made reply: oh, faugh.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +So now my Mother’s in her right Sphere.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Come, Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, we’ll pursue our first design of retiring into +my Cabinet, and reading a leaf or two in <i>Martial</i>; I am a +little dull, and wou’d fain laugh.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Methinks, Madam, Discourse were much better with these young Ladies. +Dear Lucretia, find some way to release me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, how I hate the impertinence of Women, who for the generality have no +other knowledge than that of dressing; I am uneasy with the +unthinking Creatures.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Indeed ’tis much better to be entertaining a young Lover alone; but I’ll +prevent her, if possible. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +No, I am for the substantial pleasure of an Author. +<i>Philosophemur!</i> is my Motto,—I’m strangely fond of you, Mr. +<i>Fancy</i>, for being a Scholar.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Who, Madam, I a Scholar? the greatest Dunce +<span class="pagenum">15</span> +in Nature—Malicious Creatures, will you leave me to her mercy? +<span class="stagedir"> +To them aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Prithee assist him in his misery, for I am <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag6" id="patient_texttag6" href="#patient_textnote6">Mudd</a>, and can do nothing towards it. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Who, my Cousin <i>Leander</i> a Scholar, Madam?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Sure he’s too much a Gentleman to be a Scholar.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I vow, Madam, he spells worse than a Country Farrier when he prescribes +a Drench.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Then, Madam, I write the leudest hand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Worse than a Politician or a States-man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +He cannot read it himself when he has done.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Not a word on’t, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +This agreement to abuse him, I understand— +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Well, then, Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, let’s to my Cabinet—your +hand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Now shall I be teas’d unmercifully,—I’ll wait on you, Madam. +<span class="stagedir continue">Exit Lady.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Find some means to redeem me, or I shall be mad. +<span class="stagedir">Exit <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hah, my dear Isabella here, and without a Spy! what a blessed +opportunity must I be forc’d to lose, for there is just now arriv’d my +Sister’s Lover, whom I am oblig’d to receive: but if you have a mind to +laugh a little—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Laugh! why, are you turn’d Buffoon, Tumbler, or Presbyterian +Preacher?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +No, but there’s a Creature below more ridiculous than either of +these.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +For love’s sake, what sort of Beast is that?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sir <i>Credulous Easy</i>, your new Lover just come to town Bag and +Baggage, and I was going to acquaint my Mother with it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +You’ll find her well employ’d with my Cousin <i>Leander</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +A happy opportunity to free him: but what shall I do now, Brother?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">16</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Oh, let me alone to ruin him with my Mother: get you gone, I think +I hear him coming, and this Apartment is appointed for him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Prithee haste then, and free <i>Leander</i>, we’ll into the Garden. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt <em>Luc.</em> and <em>Isab.</em></span></p> + +<h4 class="scene"> +A <a name="patient_actI_sceneIa" id="patient_actI_sceneIa">Chair and +a Table</a>. Enter Sir <em>Credulous</em> in a riding habit. +<em>Curry</em> his Groom carrying a Portmantle.</h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Yes—’tis the Right Worshipful, I’ll to my Mother with the News. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Lod.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Come undo my Portmantle, and equip me, that I may look like some body +before I see the Ladies—<i>Curry</i>, thou shalt e’en remove +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag7" id="patient_texttag7" href="#patient_textnote7">now, <i>Curry</i>, from</a> Groom to Footman; for +I’ll ne’er keep Horse more, no, nor Mare neither, since my poor +<i>Gillian’s</i> departed this Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +’Ds diggers, Sir, you have griev’d enough for your Mare in all +Conscience; think of your Mistress now, Sir, and think of her no +more.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Not think of her! I shall think of her whilst I live, poor Fool, that I +shall, though I had forty Mistresses.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Nay, to say truth, Sir, ’twas a good-natur’d civil beast, and so she +remain’d to her last gasp, for she cou’d never have left this World in a +better time, as the saying is, so near her Journey’s End.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A civil Beast! Why, was it civilly done of her, thinkest thou, to die at +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag8" id="patient_texttag8" +href="#patient_textnote8"><i>Branford</i></a>, when had she liv’d till +to morrow, she had been converted into Money and have been in my Pocket? +for now I am to marry and live in Town, I’ll sell off all my Pads; poor +Fool, I think she e’en died for grief I wou’d have sold her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +’Twas unlucky to refuse Parson <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag9" id="patient_texttag9" href="#patient_textnote9"><i>Cuffet’s</i></a> Wife’s Money for her, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ay, and to refuse her another kindness too, that shall be nameless which +she offer’d me, and which wou’d have given me good luck in Horse-flesh +too; Zoz, I was a modest fool, that’s truth on’t.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">17</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Well, well, Sir, her time was come you must think, and we are all Mortal +as the saying is.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Well, ’twas the lovingst Tit:—but Grass and Hay, she’s +gone—where be her Shoes, <i>Curry</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Here, Sir, her Skin went for good Ale at <i>Branford</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him the Shoes.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ah, how often has she carry’d me upon these Shoes to Mother +<i>Jumbles</i>; thou remember’st her handsome Daughter, and what pure +Ale she brew’d; between one and t’other my Rent came short home there; +but let that pass too, and hang sorrow, as thou sayst, I have +something else to think on. +<span class="stagedir continue">Takes his things out, lays them upon +the Table.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +And, <i>Curry</i>, as soon as I am drest, go you away to St. +<i>Clement’s Church-yard</i>, to <i>Jackson</i> the Cobler there.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +What, your Dog-tutor, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Yes, and see how my Whelp proves, I put to him last Parliament.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, Sir.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Leander</em>, and starts back seeing Sir <em>Cred.</em></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +And ask him what Gamesters come to the Ponds now adays, and what good +Dogs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +This is the Beast <i>Lodwick</i> spoke of; how could I laugh were he +design’d for any but <i>Lucretia!</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +And dost hear, ask him if he have not sold his own Dog <i>Diver</i> with +the white Ear; if I can purchase him, and my own Dog prove right, I’ll +be Duke of Ducking-Pond, ads zoz. +<span class="stagedir continue">Sir <em>Cred.</em> dresses +himself.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Well, I think I shall be fine anon, he.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But zo, zo, Sir, as the saying is, this Suit’s a little out of fashion, +’twas made that very year I came to your Worship, which is five Winters, +and as many Summers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What then Mun, I never wear it, but when I go to be drunk, and give my +Voice for a Knight o’th’ +<span class="pagenum">18</span> +Shire, and here at <i>London</i> in Term time, and that but eight times +in Eight Visits to Eight several Ladies to whom I was recommended.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I wonder that amongst eight you got not one, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Eight! Zoz, I had Eight score, Mun; but the Devil was in ’em, they were +all so forward, that before I cou’d seal and deliver, whip, quoth +<i>Jethro</i>, they were either all married to some body else, or run +quite away; so that I am resolv’d if this same <i>Lucretia</i> proves +not right, I’ll e’en forswear this Town and all their false Wares, +amongst which, zoz, I believe they vent as many false Wives as any +<i>Metropolitan</i> in Christendom, I’ll say that for’t, and a Fiddle +for’t, i’faith:—come give me my Watch out,—so, my Diamond +Rings too: so, I think I shall appear pretty well all together, +<i>Curry</i>, hah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Like some thing monstrously ridiculous, I’ll be sworn. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Here’s your Purse of broad Gold, Sir, that your Grandmother gave you to +go a wooing withal, I mean to shew, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ay, for she charg’d me never to part with it;—so, now for the +Ladies. +<span class="stagedir"> +Shakes his Ribbons.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +<i>Leander</i>, what mak’st thou here, like a Holy-day Fool gazing at a +Monster?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Yes; And one I hope I have no great reason to fear.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I am of thy opinion; away, my Mother’s coming; take this opportunity +with my Sister, she’s i’th’ Garden, and let me alone with this Fool, for +an Entertainment that shall shew him all at once: away— +<span class="stagedir continue">Exit <em>Lean.</em></span> +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lod.</em> goes in to Sir <em>Cred.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +<i>Lodwick</i>, my dear Friend! and little Spark of Ingenuity—Zoz, +Man, I’m but just come to Town. +<span class="stagedir"> +Embrace.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +’Tis a joyful hearing, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">19</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Not so joyful neither, Sir, when you shall know poor <i>Gillian’s</i> +dead, my little grey Mare; thou knew’st her, mun: Zoz, ’thas made me as +melancholy as the Drone of a <i>Lancashire</i> <ins class="correction" +title="anomalous hyphen in original">Bag-pipe</ins>. But let that +pass; and now we talk of my Mare, Zoz, I long to see this Sister of +thine.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +She’ll be with you presently, Sir <i>Credulous</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +But hark ye, Zoz, I have been so often fob’d off in these matters, that +between you and I, <i>Lodwick</i>, if I thought I shou’d not have her, +Zoz, I’d ne’er lose precious time about her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Right, Sir; and to say truth, these Women have so much Contradiction in +’em, that ’tis ten to one but a Man fails in the Art of pleasing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, there’s it:—therefore prithee, dear <i>Lodwick</i>, tell me a +few of thy Sister’s Humors, and if I fail,—then hang me, Ladies, +at your Door, as the Song says.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, faith, she has many odd Humors hard enough to hit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Zoz, let ’em be as hard as <i>Hercules</i> his Labors in the Vale of +<i>Basse</i>, I’ll not be frighted from attempting her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, she’s one of those fantastick Creatures that must be courted her +own way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, let’s hear her way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +She must be surpriz’d with strange Extravagancies wholly out of the Road +and Method of common Courtship.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Shaw, is that all? Zoz, I’m the best in Christendom at your +out-of-the-way bus’nesses.—Now do I find the Reason of all my ill +Success; for I us’d one and the same method to all I courted, whatever +their Humors were; hark ye, prithee give me a hint or two, and let me +alone to manage Matters.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I have just now thought of a way that cannot but take—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Zoz, out with it, Man.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">20</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, what if you should represent a dumb Ambassador from the Blind God +of Love.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How, a dumb Ambassador? Zoz, Man, how shall I deliver my Embassy then, +and tell her how much I love her?—besides, I had a pure +Speech or two ready by heart, and that will be quite lost. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Fy, fy! how dull you are! why, you shall do it by Signs, and I’ll be +your Interpreter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, faith, this will be pure; I understand you now, Zoz, I am +old excellent at Signs;—I vow this will be rare.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +It will not fail to do your business, if well manag’d—but stay, +here’s my Sister, on your life not a syllable.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lean.</em> <em>Lucr.</em> and <em>Isab.</em></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I’ll be rackt first, <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag3" id="patient_commtag3" href="#patient_commnote3">Mum +budget</a>,—prithee present me, I long to be at it, sure. +<span class="stagedir"> +He falls back, making Faces and Grimaces.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sister, I here present you with a worthy Knight, struck dumb with +Admiration of your Beauty; but that’s all one, he is employ’d Envoy +Extraordinary from the blind God of Love: and since, like his young +Master, he must be defective in one of his Senses, he chose rather to be +dumb than blind.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +I hope the small Deity is in good Health, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And his Mistress <i>Psyche</i>, Sir? +<span class="stagedir"> +He smiles and bows, and makes Signs.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +He says that <i>Psyche</i> has been sick of late, but somewhat +recovered, and has sent you for a Token a pair of Jet Bracelets, and a +Cambrick Handkerchief of her own spinning, with a Sentence wrought in’t, +<i>Heart in hand, at thy command.</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Looking every word upon Sir <em>Credulous</em> as he makes +signs.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Zoz, <i>Lodwick</i>, what do you mean? I’m the Son of an <i>Egyptian</i> +if I understand thee. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls him, he signs to him to hold his peace.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">21</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Come, Sir, the Tokens, produce, produce— +<span class="stagedir continue">He falls back making damnable +signs.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +How! Faith, I’m sorry for that with all my heart,—he says, being +somewhat put to’t on his Journey, he was forced to pawn the Bracelets +for half a Crown, and the Handkerchief he gave his Landlady on the Road +for a Kindness received,—this ’tis when People will be +fooling—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, the Devil’s in this <i>Lodwick</i>, for mistaking my Signs thus: +hang me if ever I thought of Bracelets or a Handkerchief, or ever +received a Civility from any Woman Breathing,—is he bewitcht trow? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +<i>Lodwick</i>, you are mistaken in the Knight’s meaning all this while. +Look on him, Sir,—do not you guess from that Look, and wrying of +his Mouth, that you mistook the Bracelets for Diamond Rings, which he +humbly begs, Madam, you would grace with your fair Hand?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Ah, now I perceive it plain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A Pox of his Compliment. Why, this is worse than t’other.—What +shall I do in this case?—should I speak and undeceive them, they +would swear ’twere to save my Jems: and to part with ’em—Zoz, how +simply should I look!—but hang’t, when I have married her, they +are my own again. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives the Rings, and falls back into Grimaces. <em>Leander</em> whispers +to <em>Lodwick</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Enough—Then, Sister, she has sent you a Purse of her own knitting +full of Broad Gold.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir. Cred.</span> +Broad Gold! why, what a Pox does the Man conjure?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Which, Sister, faith, you must accept of, you see by that Grimace how +much ’twill grieve him else.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A pretty civil way this to rob a Man.—Why, +<i>Lodwick</i>,—why, what a Pox, will they have no +mercy?—Zoz, I’ll see how far they’ll drive the Jest. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives the Gold and bows, and scrapes and screws.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Say you so, Sir? well I’ll see what may be done.—Sister, behold +him, and take pity on him; he has but +<span class="pagenum">22</span> +one more humble request to make you, ’tis to receive a Gold Watch which +he designs you from himself.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, how long has this Fellow been a Conjurer? for he does deal with the +Devil, that’s certain,—<i>Lodwick</i>— +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Ay do, speak and spoil all, do.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Speak and spoil all, quoth he! and the Duce take me if I am not provok’d +to’t; why, how the Devil should he light slap-dash, as they say, upon +every thing thus? Well, Zoz, I’m resolv’d to give it her, and shame her +if she have any Conscience in her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives his Watch with pitiful Grimaces.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Now, Sister, you must know there’s a Mystery in this Watch, ’tis a kind +of Hieroglyphick that will instruct you how a Married Woman of your +Quality ought to live.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How, my Watch Mysteries and Hieroglyphicks! the Devil take me, if I knew +of any such Virtues it had. +<span class="stagedir"> +They are all looking on the Watch.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag4" id="patient_commtag4" href="#patient_commnote4">Beginning at Eight</a>, from which down to Twelve +you ought to imploy in dressing, till Two at Dinner, till Five in +Visits, till Seven at the Play, till Nine i’th’ Park, Ten at Supper with +your Lover, if your Husband be <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag10" id="patient_texttag10" href="#patient_textnote10">not</a> at home, or keep his distance, which he’s +too well bred not to do; then from Ten to Twelve are the happy Hours +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag5" id="patient_commtag5" href="#patient_commnote5">the Bergere</a>, those of intire +Enjoyment.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Say you so? hang me if I shall not go near to think I may chance to be a +Cuckold by the shift.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Well, Sir, what must she do from Twelve till Eight again?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Oh! those are the dull Conjugal Hours for sleeping with her own Husband, +and dreaming of Joys her absent Lover alone can give her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, an she be for Sleeping, Zoz, I am as good at that as she can +be for her Heart; or Snoring either.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +But I have done; Sir <i>Credulous</i> has a dumb Oration to make you by +way of farther Explanation.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">23</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A dumb Oration! now do I know no more how to speak a dumb Speech than +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag11" id="patient_texttag11" href="#patient_textnote11">a Dog</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Oh, I love that sort of Eloquence extremely.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I told you this would take her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, I know your silent Speeches are incomparable, and I have such a +Speech in my Head.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Your Postures, your Postures, begin, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +He puts himself into a ready Posture as if he would speak, but only +makes Faces.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Page</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +Sir, my Lady desires to speak with you. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I’ll wait on her,—a Devil on’t.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +I have command to bring you, Sir, instantly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +This is ill luck, Madam, I cannot see the Farce out; I’ll wait on you as +soon as my good Fortune will permit me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag12" id="patient_texttag12" href="#patient_textnote12">with +<em>Page</em></a>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +He’s going to my Mother, dear <i>Isabella</i>, let’s go and hinder their +Discourse: Farewel, Sir Ambassador, pray remember us to <i>Psyche</i>, +not forgetting the little blind Archer, ha, ha, ha.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Lucr.</em> and <em>Isab.</em> laughing.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +So, I have undone all, they are both gone, flown I protest; why, what a +Devil ail’d em? Now have I been dumb all this while to no purpose, you +too never told her my meaning right; as I hope to breathe, had any but +yourself done this, I should have sworn by <i>Helicon</i> and all +the rest of the Devils, you had had a design to have abus’d me, and +cheated me of all my Moveables too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +What a hopeful Project was here defeated by my mistake! but courage, Sir +<i>Credulous</i>, I’ll put you in a way shall fetch all about again.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Say you so? ah, dear <i>Lodwick</i>, let me hear it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, you shall this Night give your Mistress a Serenade.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How! a Serenade!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Yes, but it must be perform’d after an Extravagant +<span class="pagenum">24</span> +manner, none of your dull amorous Night-walking Noises so familiar in +this Town; <i>Lucretia</i> loves nothing but what’s great and +extravagant, and passes the reach of vulgar practice.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What think you of a silent Serenade? Zoz, say but the word and it shall +be done, Man, let me alone for Frolicks, i’faith.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +A silent one! no, that’s to wear a good humour to the Stumps; +I wou’d have this want for no Noise; the extremes of these two +Addresses will set off one another.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Say you so? what think you then of the Bagpipe, Tongs, and Gridiron, +Cat-calls, and loud-sounding Cymbals?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Naught, naught, and of known use; you might as well treat her with Viols +and Flute-doux, which were enough to disoblige her for ever.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, what think you then of the King of <i>Bantam’s</i> own Musick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +How! the King of <i>Bantam’s</i> Musick?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ay, Sir, the King of <i>Bantam’s</i>: a Friend of mine had a +Present sent him from thence, a most unheard of curiosity I’ll +assure you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +That, that by all means, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Well, I’ll go borrow ’em presently.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +You must provide your self of a Song.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A Song! hang’t, ’tis but rummaging the Play-Books, stealing thence is +lawful Prize—Well, Sir, your Servant. +<span class="stagedir">Exit.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Leander</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I hope ’twill be ridiculous enough, and then the Devil’s in’t if it do +not do his Business with my Mother, for she hates all impertinent Noises +but what she makes herself. She’s now going to make a Visit to your +Uncle, purposely to give me an opportunity to <i>Isabella</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +And I’m ingag’d to wait on her thither, she +<span class="pagenum">25</span> +designs to carry the Fiddles too; he’s mad enough already, but such a +Visit will fit him for Bedlam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +No matter, for you have all a leud Hand with him; between his continual +imaginary Sickness, and perpetual Physic, a Man might take more +Pleasure in an Hospital. What the Devil did he marry a young Wife for? +and they say a handsome Creature too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +To keep up his Title of Cuckold I think, for she has Beauty enough for +Temptation, and no doubt makes the right use on’t: wou’d I cou’d know +it, that I might prevent her cheating my Uncle longer to my undoing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +She’ll be cunning enough for that, if she have Wit: but now thou talk’st +of Intrigues, when didst see <i>Wittmore</i>? that Rogue has some lucky +Haunt which we must find out.—But my Mother expects your +attendance; I’ll go seek my Sister, and make all the Interest there I +can for you, whilst you pay me in the same Coin to <i>Isabella</i>. +<i>Adieu.</i></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Trust my Friendship.—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag13" id="patient_texttag13" +href="#patient_textnote13">Ex. severally.</a></p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="patient_actII" id="patient_actII"> +ACT II.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actII_sceneI" id="patient_actII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +A Garden <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag14" id="patient_texttag14" href="#patient_textnote14">to Sir <em>Patient +Fancy’s</em> House</a>.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Fancy</em>, <em>Wittmore</em>, and <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Enough, my charming Mistress, you’ve set my Soul at Peace, and chas’d +away those Fears and Doubts my Jealousy created there.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Mr. <i>Wittmore’s</i> satisfy’d of your Constancy, Madam; though had I +been your Ladyship, I should have given him a more substantial +Proof, which you might yet do, if you wou’d make handsome use of your +time.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<i>Maundy</i> advises well; my dearest, let’s withdraw to yonder Covert +Arbour, whose kind Shades will secure us a Happiness that Gods might +envy. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to lead her out.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">26</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I dare not for the world, Sir <i>Patient</i> is now asleep, and ’tis to +those few Minutes we are oblig’d for this Enjoyment, which shou’d Love +make us transgress, and he shou’d wake and surprize us, we are undone +for ever: no, let us employ this little time we have in consulting how +we may be often happy, and securely so: Oh, how I languish for the dear +opportunity!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +And cou’d you guess what Torments I have suffer’d in these few fatal +Months that have divided us, thou wou’dst pity me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +—But to our Business; for though I am yet unsuspected by my +Husband, I am eternally plagu’d with his Company; he’s so fond of +me, he scarce gives me time to write to thee, he waits on me from room +to room, hands me in the Garden, shoulders me in the Balcony, nay, does +the office of my Women, dresses and undresses me, and does so smirk at +his handywork: In fine, dear <i>Wittmore</i>, I am impatient till I +can have less of his Company, and more of thine.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Does he never go out of Town?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Never without me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Nor to <ins class="correction" title="spelling unchanged">Chuch</ins>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +To a Meeting-house you mean, and then too carries me, and is as vainly +proud of me as of his rebellious Opinion, for his Religion means nothing +but that, and Contradiction; which I seem to like too, since ’tis the +best Cloke I can put on to cheat him with.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Right, my fair Hypocrite.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +But, dear <i>Wittmore</i>, there’s nothing so comical as to hear me +cant, and even cheat those Knaves, the Preachers themselves, that delude +the ignorant Rabble.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +What Miracles cannot your Eyes and Tongue perform!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Judge what a fine Life I lead the while, to be set up with an old formal +doting sick Husband, and a Herd of snivelling grinning Hypocrites, that +call themselves +<span class="pagenum">27</span> +the teaching Saints; who under pretence of securing me to the number of +their Flock, do so sneer upon me, pat my Breasts, and cry fie, fie upon +this fashion of tempting Nakedness. +<span class="stagedir"> +Through the Nose.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Dear Creature, how cou’d we laugh at thy new way of living, had we but +some Minutes allow’d us to enjoy that Pleasure alone.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Think, dear <i>Wittmore</i>, think, <i>Maundy</i> and I have thought +over all our Devices to no purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Pox on’t, I’m the dullest dog at plotting, thinking, in the world; +I should have made a damnable ill Town Poet: Has he quite left off +going to the Change?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, he’s grown cautiously rich, and will venture none of his substantial +Stock in transitory Traffick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Has he no mutinous Cabal, nor Coffee-houses, where he goes religiously +to consult the Welfare of the Nation?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +His imagin’d Sickness has made this their Rendesvouz.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +When he goes to his blind Devotion, cannot you pretend to be sick? that +may give us at least two or three opportunities to begin with.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh! then I should be plagu’d with continual Physick and Extempore Prayer +till I were sick indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Damn the humorous Coxcomb and all his Family, what shall we do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Not all, for he has a Daughter that has good Humour, Wit, and Beauty +enough to save her,—stay—that has jogg’d a Thought, as the +Learned say, which must jog on, till the motion have produc’d something +worth my thinking.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Roger</em> running.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Ad’s me, here’s danger near, our Scout comes in such haste.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +<i>Roger</i>, what’s the matter?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">28</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +My Master, Madam, is risen from sleep, and is come in to the +Garden.—See, Madam, he’s here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +What an unlucky Accident was this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +What shall I do, ’tis too late to obscure my self?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +He sees you already, through the Trees,—here—keep your +distance, your Hat under your Arm; so, be very ceremonious, whilst I +settle a demure Countenance.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Well, there never came good of Lovers that were given to too much +talking; had you been silently kind all this while, you had been willing +to have parted by this time.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em> in a Night-Gown, reading a Bill.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hum,—Twelve Purges for this present <i>January</i>—as I take +it, good Mr. Doctor, I took but Ten in all +<i>December.</i>—By this Rule I am sicker this Month, than I was +the last.—And, good Master Apothecary, methinks your Prizes are +somewhat too high: at this rate no body wou’d be sick.—Here, +<i>Roger</i>, see it paid however,—Ha, hum. +<span class="aside">Sees ’em, and starts back.</span> +What’s here, my Lady Wife entertaining a leud Fellow of the Town? +a flaunting Cap and Feather Blade.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Sir <i>Patient</i> cannot now be spoken with. But, Sir, that which I was +going just now to say to you, was, that it would be very convenient in +my opinion to make your Addresses to <i>Isabella</i>,—’twill give +us opportunities. +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +We Ladies love no Imposition; this is Counsel my Husband perhaps will +not like, but I would have all Women chuse their Man, as I have +done,—my dear <i>Wittmore.</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I profess ingenuously an excellent good Lady this of mine, though I do +not like her Counsel to the young Man, who I perceive would be a Suitor +to my Daughter <i>Isabella</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Madam, should I follow my inclinations, I should pay my Vows no +where but there,—but I am inform’d Sir <i>Patient</i> is a Man so +positively resolv’d.—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">29</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +That you should love his Wife. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +And I’ll comply with that Resolve of his, and neither love nor marry +<i>Isabella</i>, without his Permission; and I doubt not but I shall by +my Respects to him gain his Consent,—to cuckold him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I profess ingenuously, a very discreet young Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +But, Madam, when may I promise my self the satisfaction of coming again? +For I’m impatient for the Sight and Enjoyment of the fair Person I +love.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Sir, you may come at night, and something I will do by that time shall +certainly give you that access you wish for.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +May I depend upon that Happiness?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, doubt not my power over Sir <i>Patient</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +My Lady <i>Fancy</i>, you promise largely.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Sir <i>Patient</i> here!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +A Devil on him, wou’d I were well off: now must I dissemble, profess, +and lye most confoundedly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Your Servant, Sir, your Servant.—My Lady <i>Fancy</i>, your +Ladyship, is well entertain’d I see; have a care you make me not +jealous, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Indeed I have given you cause, Sir <i>Patient</i>, for I have been +entertaining a Lover, and one you must admit of too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Say you so, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>?—Well, Sir, I am a Man of +Reason, and if you shew me good causes why, can bid you welcome, for I +do nothing without Reason and Precaution.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Sir, I have—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I know what you wou’d say, Sir; few Words denoteth a Wise +Head,—you wou’d say that you have an Ambition to be my +Son-in-Law.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +You guess most right, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Nay, Sir, I’ll warrant I’ll read a Man as well as the best, I have +studied it.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">30</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Now, Invention, help me or never.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Your Name, I pray? +<span class="stagedir"> +Putting off his Hat gravely at every Word.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<i>Fainlove</i>, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Good Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, your Country?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<i>Yorkshire</i>, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What, not Mr. <i>Fainlove’s</i> Son of <i>Yorkshire</i>, who was +knighted in the good days of the late Lord Protector? +<span class="stagedir"> +Off his Hat.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +The same, Sir.—I am in, but how to come off again the Devil take +me if I know. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +He was a Man of admirable parts, believe me, a notable Head piece, +a publick-spirited Person, and a good Commonwealths-man, that he +was, on my word.—Your Estate, Sir, I pray? +<span class="stagedir"> +Hat off.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +I have not impair’d it, Sir, and I presume you know its value:—For +I am a Dog if I do. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +O’ my Word, ’tis then considerable, Sir; for he left but one Son, and +fourteen hundred Pounds <i>per Annum</i>, as I take it: which Son, +I hear, is lately come from <i>Geneva</i>, whither he was sent for +virtuous Education. I am glad of your Arrival, Sir.—Your +Religion, I pray?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +You cannot doubt my Principles, Sir, since educated at +<i>Geneva</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Your Father was a discreet Man: ah, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, he and I have +seen better days, and wish we cou’d have foreseen these that are +arriv’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That he might have turn’d honest in time, he means, before he had +purchas’d Bishops Lands.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Sir, you have no Place, Office, Dependance or Attendance at Court, +I hope?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +None, Sir,—Wou’d I had—so you were hang’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Nay, Sir, you may believe, I knew his Capacities and Abilities +before I would encourage his Addresses.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +My Lady <i>Fancy</i>, you are a discreet Lady;—Well, +<span class="pagenum">31</span> +I’ll marry her out of hand, to prevent Mr. <i>Lodwick’s</i> hopes: for +though the young man may deserve well, that Mother of his I’ll have +nothing to do with, since she refused to marry my Nephew. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Fanny</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Sir Father, here’s my Lady <i>Knowell</i>, and her Family come to see +you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How! her whole Family! I am come to keep open House; very fine, her +whole Family! she’s Plague enough to mortify any good +Christian,—Tell her, my Lady and I am gone forth; tell her any +thing to keep her away.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Shou’d I tell a lye, Sir Father, and to a Lady of her Quality?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Her Quality and she are a Couple of Impertinent things, which are very +troublesome, and not to be indur’d I take it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Sir, we shou’d bear with things we do not love sometimes, ’tis a sort of +Trial, Sir, a kind of Mortification fit for a good Christian.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, what a notable talking Baggage is this! How came you by this +Doctrine?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +I remember, Sir, you preach’d it once to my Sister, when the old +Alderman was the Text, whom you exhorted her to marry, but the wicked +Creature made ill use on’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Go your way for a prating Huswife, go, and call your Sister hither. +<span class="aside">Exit <em>Fanny</em>.</span> +—Well, I’m resolv’d to leave this Town, nay, and the World too, +rather than be tormented thus.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +What’s the matter, Dear, thou dost so fret thy self?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +The matter! my House, my House is besieged with Impertinence; the +intolerable Lady, Madam <i>Romance</i>, that walking Library of profane +Books is come to visit me.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">32</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +My Lady <i>Knowell</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Yes, that Lady of eternal Noise and hard Words.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Indeed ’tis with pain I am oblig’d to be civil to her, but I consider +her Quality, her Husband was too an Alderman, your Friend, and a great +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag6" id="patient_commtag6" href="#patient_commnote6">Ay and No Man</a> i’ th’ City, and a painful +Promoter of the good Cause.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +But she’s a Fop, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, and ever was so, an idle +conceited she Fop; and has Vanity and Tongue enough to debauch any +Nation under civil Government: but, Patience, thou art a Virtue, and +Affliction will come.—Ah, I’m very sick, alas, I have not +long to dwell amongst the Wicked, Oh, oh.—<i>Roger</i>, is the +Doctor come?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Roger</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +No, Sir, but he has sent you a small draught of a Pint, which you are to +take, and move upon’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah,—Well, I’ll in and take it;—Ah—Sir, I crave +your Patience for a moment, for I design you shall see my Daughter, I’ll +not make long work on’t, Sir: alas, I would dispose of her before I +die: Ah,—I’ll bring her to you, Sir, Ah, Ah.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out with <em>Roger</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +He’s always thus when visited, to save Charges,—But how, dear +<i>Wittmore</i>, cam’st thou to think of a Name and Country so +readily?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Egad, I was at the height of my Invention, and the Alderman civilly and +kindly assisted me with the rest; but how to undeceive him—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Take no care for that, in the mean time you’ll be shreudly hurt to have +the way laid open to our Enjoyment, and that by my Husband’s procurement +too: But take heed, dear <i>Wittmore</i>, whilst you only design to +feign a Courtship, you do it not in good earnest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Unkind Creature!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I would not have you endanger her Heart neither: for thou hast Charms +will do’t.—Prithee do not +<span class="pagenum">33</span> +put on thy best Looks, nor speak thy softest Language; for if thou dost, +thou canst not fail to undo her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Well, my pretty Flatterer, to free her Heart and thy Suspicions, I’ll +make such aukward Love as shall persuade her, however she chance to like +my Person, to think most leudly of my Parts.—But ’tis fit I take +my leave, for if <i>Lodwick</i> or <i>Leander</i> see me here, all will +be ruin’d; death, I had forgot that.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +<i>Leander’s</i> seldom at home, and you must time your Visits: but see +Sir <i>Patient’s</i> return’d, and with him your new Mistress.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em> and <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Here’s my Daughter <i>Isabella</i>, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>: she’ll serve +for a Wife, Sir, as times go; but I hope you are none of +those.—Sweet-heart, this Gentleman I have design’d you, he’s rich +and young, and I am old and sickly, and just going out of the World, and +would gladly see thee in safe Hands.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +He has been just going this twenty Years. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Therefore I command you to receive the tenders of his Affection.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Fanny</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Sir Father, my Lady <i>Knowell’s</i> in the Garden.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +My Dear, we must go meet her in decency.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A hard case, a Man cannot be sick in quiet. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag15" id="patient_texttag15" href="#patient_textnote15">with L. +<em>Fan.</em></a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +A Husband, and that not <i>Lodwick</i>! Heaven forbid. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Now Foppery assist to make me very ridiculous,—Death, she’s very +pretty and inviting; what an insensible Dog shall I be counted to refuse +the Enjoyment of so fair, so new a Creature, and who is like to be +thrown into my Arms too whether I will or not?—but Conscience and +<span class="pagenum">34</span> +my Vows to the fair Mother: No, I will be +honest.—Madam,—as Gad shall save me, I’m the Son of a Whore, +if you are not the most Belle Person I ever saw, and if I be not +damnably in love with you; but a pox take all tedious Courtship, +I have a free-born and generous Spirit; and as I hate being +confin’d to dull Cringing, Whining, Flattering, and the Devil and all of +Foppery, so when I give an Heart, I’m an Infidel, Madam, if I do not +love to do’t frankly and quickly, that thereby I may oblige the +beautiful Receiver of my Vows, Protestations, Passions, and +Inclination.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +You’re wonderful ingaging, Sir, and I were an Ingrate not to facilitate +a return for the Honour you are pleas’d to do me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Upon my Reputation, Madam, you’re a civil well-bred Person, you have all +the Agreemony of your Sex, <i>la belle Taille</i>, <i>la bonne Mine</i>, +& <i><ins class="correction" title="spelling unchanged">Reparteeé</ins> bien</i>, and are <i>tout oure toore</i>, as +I’m a Gentleman, <i>fort agreeable</i>.—If this do not please your +Lady, and nauseate her, the Devil’s in ’em both for unreasonable +Women.— +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Maun.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Gemini, Sister, does the Gentleman conjurer?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I know not, but I’m sure I never saw a more affected Fop.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +O, a damnable impertinent Fop! ’tis pity, for he’s a proper +Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Well, if I do hold out, Egad, I shall be the bravest young Fellow +in Christendom: But, Madam, I must kiss your Hand at present, +I have some Visits to make, Devoirs to pay, necessities of +Gallantry only, no Love Engagements, by <i>Jove</i>, Madam; it is +sufficient I have given my Parole to your Father, to do him the honour +of my Alliance; and an unnecessary Jealousy will but disoblige, Madam, +your Slave.—Death, these Rogues see me, and I’m undone.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">35</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Fancy</em>, Lady <em>Knowell</em>, Sir <em>Credulous</em> +and <em>Lucretia</em>, with other Women and Men, <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag16" id="patient_texttag16" href="#patient_textnote16"><em>Roger</em> attending</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +<i>Isabella</i>, your Servant, Madam: being sensible of the insociable +and solitary Life you lead, I have brought my whole Family to wait +on your Ladyship, and this my Son <i>in Futuro</i>, to kiss your Hands, +I beseech your Ladyship to know him for your humble Servant: my Son +and your Nephew, Madam, are coming with the Musick too, we mean to pass +the whole Day with your Ladyship:—and see they are here.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em> pulling in <em>Wittmore</em>, <em>Leander</em> +with them.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Nay, since we have met thee so luckily, you must back with us.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +You must excuse me, Gentlemen.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +We’ll shew you two or three fine Women.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Death, these Rogues will ruin me—but I have Business, Gentlemen, +that—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +That must not hinder you from doing Deeds of Charity: we are all come to +teeze my Uncle, and you must assist at so good a Work;—come, gad, +thou shall make love to my Aunt.—I wou’d he wou’d +effectually. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Now I think on’t, what the Devil dost thou make here?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Here!—oh, Sir—a—I have a design upon the Alderman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Upon his handsome Wife thou meanest; ah, Rogue!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Faith, no,—a—’tis to—borrow Mony of him; and as I take +it, Gentlemen, you are not fit Persons for a Man of Credit to be seen +with, I pass for a graver Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Well, Sir, take your Course—but, egad, he’ll sooner lend thee his +Wife than his Money.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Wittmore</em>, they come in.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Aunt, I have taken the boldness to bring a Gentleman of my Acquaintance +to kiss your Ladyship’s Hands.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">36</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Thy Aunt!—death, she’s very handsome.—Madam, your most +humble Servant. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kisses the L. <em>Fan.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Prithee imploy this Fool, that I may have an opportunity to entertain +thy Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sir <i>Credulous</i>, what, not a Word? not a Compliment? Hah,—be +brisk, Man, be gay and witty, talk to the Ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Talk to ’em! why, what shall I say to ’em?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Any thing, so it be to little purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, Sir, let me alone for that matter—but who are they, +prithee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, that’s my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, and that’s her Daughter-in-Law, salute +’em, Man.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Fair Lady,—I do protest and vow, you are the most beautiful of all +Mothers-in-Law, and the World cannot produce your equal.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +The Rogue has but one method for all Addresses. +<span class="stagedir"> +They laugh.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, absurd! this, Sir, is the beautiful Mother-in-Law. +<span class="stagedir"> +To L. <em>Fan.</em></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag17" id="patient_texttag17" +href="#patient_textnote17">Enter Sir <em>Patient</em>.</a></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Most noble Lady, I cry your mercy. Then, Madam, as the Sun amongst the +Stars, or rather as the Moon not in conjunction with the Sun, but in her +opposition, when one rises the other sets, or as the Vulgar call it, +Full Moon—I say, as the Moon is the most beautiful of all the +sparkling Lights, even so are you the most accomplish’d Lady under the +Moon—and, Madam, I am extremely sensible of your Charms and +celestial Graces. +<span class="stagedir">To <em>Isabella</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, this is abominable and insupportable.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +I find, Sir, you can talk to purpose when you begin once.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +You are pleased to say so, noble Lady: but I must needs say, I am +not the worst bred Gentleman for a Country Gentleman that ever you saw; +for you must +<span class="pagenum">37</span> +know, incomparable Lady, that I was at the University three Years, and +there I learnt my Logick and Rhetorick, whereby I became excellent at +Repartee, sweet Lady. As for my Estate, my Father died since I came of +Age, and left me a small younger Brother’s Portion, dear Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +A younger Brother’s, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ha, ha, I know what you would infer from that now: but you must know, +delicious Lady, that I am all the Children my Father had.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Witty, I protest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, Madam, when I set on’t I can be witty.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Cruel <i>Lucretia</i>, leave ’em, and let us snatch this opportunity to +talk of our own Affairs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +For you must know, bright Lady, though I was pleas’d to railly my self, +I have a pretty competent Estate of about 3000<i>l.</i> a Year, and +am to marry Madam <i>Lucretia</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +You are a happy Man, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Not so happy neither, inestimable Lady, for I lost the finest Mare +yesterday,—but let that pass: were you never in <i>Devonshire</i>, +Madam?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Never, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +In troth, and that’s pity, sweet Lady; for if you lov’d Hawking, +Drinking, and Whoring,—oh, Lord, I mean Hunting; i’faith, +there be good Fellows would keep you Company, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +This is a Plot upon me, a mere Plot.—My Lady <i>Fancy</i>, be +tender of my Reputation, Foppery’s catching, and I had as lieve be a +Cuckold as Husband to a vain Woman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Zoz, and that may be as you say, noble Sir. Lady, pray what Gentleman’s +this?—Noble Sir, I am your most humble Servant.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, cry your mercy, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Walks away.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +No Offence, dear Sir, I protest: ’slife, I believe ’tis the Master +of the House, he look’d with such +<span class="pagenum">38</span> +Authority;—why, who cares, let him look as big as the four Winds, +East, West, North and South, I care not this,—therefore I beg +your Pardon, noble Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Pray spare your Hat and Legs, Sir, till you come to Court, they are +thrown away i’th’ City.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +O Lord! dear Sir, ’tis all one for that, I value not a Leg nor an +Arm amongst Friends, I am a <i>Devonshire</i> Knight, Sir, all the +World knows, a kind of Country Gentleman, as they say, and am come +to Town, to marry my Lady <i>Knowell’s</i> Daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I’m glad on’t, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Walks away, he follows.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +She’s a deserving Lady, Sir, if I have any Judgment; and I think I +understand a Lady, Sir, in the Right Honourable way of Matrimony.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, Sir, that is to say, you have been married before, Sir; and what’s +all this to me, good Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Married before! incomparable, Sir! not so neither, for there’s +difference in Men, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Right, Sir, for some are Wits, and some are Fools.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +As I hope to breathe, ’twas a saying of my Grandmother’s, who us’d to +tell me, Sir, that bought Wit was best. I have brought Money to +Town for a small purchase of that kind; for, Sir, I wou’d fain set +up for a Country Wit.—Pray, Sir, where live the Poets, for I wou’d +fain be acquainted with some of them.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Sir, I do not know, nor do I care for Wits and Poets. Oh, this will kill +me quite; I’ll out of Town immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +But, Sir, I mean your fine railing Bully Wits, that have Vinegar, Gall +and Arsenick in ’em, as well as Salt and Flame, and Fire, and the Devil +and all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, defend me! and what is all this to me, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh, Sir, they are the very Soul of Entertainment; and, Sir, it is the +prettiest sport to hear ’em rail and haul at one another—Zoz, +wou’d I were a Poet.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">39</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I wish you were, since you are so fond of being rail’d at.—If I +were able to beat him, I would be much angry,—but Patience is +a Virtue, and I will into the Country. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +’Tis all one case to me, dear Sir,—but I should have the pleasure +of railing again, <i>cum privilegio</i>; I love fighting with those +pointless Weapons.—Zoz, Sir, you know if we Men of Quality fall +out— (for you are a Knight I take it) why, there comes a Challenge +upon it, and ten to one some body or other is run through the Gills; +why, a Pox on’t, I say, this is very damnable, give me Poet’s +Licence.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Take him off in pity. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Leander</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Indeed Railing is a Coin only current among the Poets, Sir +<i>Credulous</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh blest Deliverance!—what a profane Wretch is here, and what a +leud World we live in—Oh <i>London</i>, <i>London</i>, how thou +aboundest in Iniquity! thy young Men are debauch’d, thy Virgins +defloured, and thy Matrons all turn’d Bauds! My Lady <i>Fancy</i>, this +is not Company for you, I take it, let us fly from this vexation of +Spirit, on the never-failing Wings of Discretion.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Going to lead Lady <em>Fancy</em> off,—the Lady <em>Knowell</em> +speaking to <em>Isabella</em> all this while.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +How! marry thee to such a Fop, say’st thou? Oh egregious!—as thou +lovest <i>Lodwick</i>, let him not know his Name, it will be dangerous, +let me alone to evade it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I know his fiery Temper too well to trust him with the secret.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Hark ye, Sir, and do you intend to do this horrible thing?—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What thing, my Lady <i>Knowell</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Why, to marry your Daughter, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Yes, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +To a beastly Town Fool? <i>Monstrum horrendum!</i></p> + +<span class="pagenum">40</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +To any Fool, except a Fool of your Race, of your Generation.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +How! a Fool of my Race, my Generation! I know thou meanest my Son, +thou contumelious Knight, who, let me tell thee, shall marry thy +Daughter <i>invito te</i>, that is, (to inform thy obtuse Understanding) +in spite of thee; yes, shall marry her, though she inherits nothing but +thy dull Enthusiasms, which had she been legitimate she had been possest +with.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh abominable! you had best say she is none of my Daughter, and that I +was a Cuckold.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +If I should, Sir, it would not amount to <i>Scandalum Magnatum</i>: I’ll +tell thee more, thy whole Pedigree,—and yet for all this, +<i>Lodwick</i> shall marry your Daughter, and yet I’ll have none of your +Nephew.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Shall he so, my Lady <i>Knowell</i>? I shall go near to out-trick +your Ladyship, for all your politick Learning. ’Tis past the Canonical +Hour, as they call it, or I wou’d marry my Daughter instantly; +I profess we ne’er had good days since these Canonical Fopperies +came up again, mere Popish Tricks to give our Children time for +Disobedience,—the next Justice wou’d ha’ serv’d turn, and have +done the Business at any Hour: but Patience is a +Virtue—<i>Roger</i>, go after Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, and tell him I +wou’d speak with him instantly. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag18" id="patient_texttag18" +href="#patient_textnote18">Exit <em>Roger</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Come, come, Ladies, we lose fleeting time, upon my Honour, we do; for, +Madam, as I said, I have brought the Fiddles, and design to +sacrifice the intire Evening to your Ladyship’s Diversion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Incomparable Lady, that was well thought on; Zoz, I long to be +jigging.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Fiddles, good Lord! why, what am I come to?—Madam, I take it, +Sir <i>Patient Fancy’s</i> Lady is not a proper Person to make one at +immodest Revellings, and profane Masqueradings.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Why; ah, ’tis very true, Sir, but we ought +<span class="pagenum">41</span> +not to offend a Brother that is weak, and consequently, +a Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +An excellent Lady this, but she may be corrupted, ah, she may fall; +I will therefore without delay, carry her from this wicked +Town.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Come, come, Gentlemen, let’s in; Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, you must be my +Man;—Sir <i>Credulous</i>, come, and you, sweet Sir, come, +Ladies,—<i>Nunc est saltandum</i>, &c.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actII_sceneII" id="patient_actII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +Changes to a Chamber.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em> as before, Lady <em>Fancy</em>, +<em>Wittmore</em>, <em>Maundy</em>, and <em>Roger</em> with things.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<i>Maundy</i>, fetch my Clothes, I’ll dress me and out of Town +instantly,—persuade me not. +<span class="stagedir continue">To <em>Wit.</em></span></p> +<p class="continue"> +<i>Roger</i>, is the Coach ready, <i>Roger</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Yes, Sir, with four Horses.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Out of Town! Oh, I’m undone then, there will be no hopes of ever seeing +<i>Wittmore</i>. +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +—<i>Maundy</i>, oh, help me to contrive my stay, or I’m a dead +Woman.—Sir, sure you cannot go and leave your Affairs in Town.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Affairs! what Affairs?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Why, your Daughter’s Marriage, Sir:—and—Sir,—not, Sir, +but that I desire of all things in the World the Blessing of being alone +with you, far from the Noise and leud Disorders of this filthy Town.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Most excellent Woman! ah, thou art too good for sinful Man, and I will +therefore remove thee from the Temptations of it.—<i>Maundy</i>, +my Clothes—Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, I will leave <i>Isabella</i> +with my Lady <i>Fidget</i>, my Sister, who shall to morrow see you +married, to prevent farther Inconveniences.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +What shall I do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Madam, I have a Design, which considering his Spleen, must this time do +our Business,—’tis— +<span class="stagedir"> +Whispers.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">42</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I like it well, about it instantly, hah— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Ex. <em>Maundy</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Alas, Sir, what ails your Face? good Heaven,—look, +<i>Roger</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +My Face! why, what ails my Face? hah!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +See, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, oh, look on my Dear, is he not strangely +alter’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Most wonderfully.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Alter’d, hah—why, where, why, how alter’d?—hah, alter’d say +you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Lord, how wildly he stares!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, stare wildly!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Are you not very sick, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Sick! oh, Heavens forbid!—How does my dearest Love?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Methinks I feel myself not well o’th’ sudden—ah—a kind +of shivering seizes all my Limbs,—and am I so much chang’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +All over, Sir, as big again as you were.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Your Face is frightfully blown up, and your dear Eyes just starting from +your Head; oh, I shall sound with the apprehension on’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +Falls into <em>Wittmore’s</em> Arms.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +My Head and Eyes so big, say you: oh, I’m wondrous sick o’th’ +sudden,—all over say you—oh, oh—Ay, I perceive it +now, my Senses fail me too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +How, Sir, your Senses fail you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That’s a very bad sign, believe me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, ay, for I can neither feel nor see this mighty growth you speak of. +<span class="stagedir"> +Falls into a Chair, with great signs of Disorder.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Alas, I’m sorry for that, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Sure, ’tis impossible, I’ll run and fetch a Glass, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, stay, I wou’d not for the world he should see what a Monster he +is,—and is like to be before to morrow. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">43</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +I’ll fit him with a Glass,—I’ll warrant ye, it shall advance our +Design. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag18a" id="patient_texttag18a" +href="#patient_textnote18a">Exit <em>Roger</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em> with the Clothes, she starts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Good Heaven, what ails you, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh—oh—’tis so.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Lord, how he’s swoln! see how his Stomach struts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, ’tis true, though I perceive it not.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Not perceive it, Sir! put on your Clothes and be convinc’d,—try +’em, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +She pulls off his Gown, and puts on his Doublet and Coat, which come not +near by a handful or more.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, it needs not,—mercy upon me!— +<span class="stagedir continue">Falls back.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +I’m lost, I’m gone! Oh Man, what art thou but a Flower? I am +poison’d, this talking Lady’s Breath’s infectious; methought I felt the +Contagion steal into my Heart; send for my Physicians, and if I die I’ll +swear she’s my Murderer: oh, see, see, how my trembling increases, oh, +hold my Limbs, I die.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Roger</em> with a magnifying Glass, shews him the Glass; he +looks in it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +I’ll warrant I’ll shew his Face as big as a Bushel. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, oh,—I’m a dead Man, have me to Bed, I die away, undress +me instantly, send for my Physicians, I’m poison’d, my Bowels burn, +I have within an <i>Ætna</i>, my Brains run round, Nature within me +reels. +<span class="stagedir"> +They carry him out in a Chair.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +And all the drunken Universe does run on Wheels, ha, ha, ha.</p> +<p class="continue"> +Ah, my dear Creature, how finely thou hast brought him to his Journy’s +end!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +There was no other way but this to have secur’d my Happiness with thee; +there needs no more than that +<span class="pagenum">44</span> +you come anon to the Garden Back-gate, where you shall find +admittance;—Sir <i>Patient</i> is like to lie alone to night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Till then ’twill be a thousand Ages.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +At Games of Love Husbands to cheat is fair,</p> +<p>’Tis the Gallant we play with on the square. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag19" id="patient_texttag19" +href="#patient_textnote19">Exeunt severally.</a></span></p> +</div> + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="patient_actIII" id="patient_actIII"> +ACT III.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneI" id="patient_actIII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Scene draws off <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag20" id="patient_texttag20" href="#patient_textnote20">to a room in Sir +<em>Patient Fancy’s</em> house</a>, and discovers Lady <em>Knowell</em>, +<em>Isabella</em>, <em>Lucretia</em>, <em>Lodwick</em>, +<em>Leander</em>, <em>Wittmore</em>, Sir <em>Credulous</em>, other Men +and Women, as going to dance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Come, one Dance more, and then I think we shall have sufficiently teaz’d +the Alderman, and ’twill be time to part.—Sir <i>Credulous</i>, +where’s your Mistress?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag7" id="patient_commtag7" href="#patient_commnote7">Within a Mile of an Oak</a>, dear Madam, I’ll +warrant you.—Well, I protest and vow, sweet Lady, you dance +most nobly,—Why, you dance—like—like a—like a +hasty Pudding, before <i>Jove</i>.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +They dance some Antick, or <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag8" +id="patient_commtag8" href="#patient_commnote8">Rustick Antick</a>. +<em>Lodwick</em> speaking to <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<h5>SONG made by a Gentleman.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p class="indent2">Sitting by yonder River side,</p> +<p class="indent"><em>Parthenia</em> thus to <em>Cloe</em> cry’d,</p> +<p class="indent">Whilst from the fair Nymph’s Eyes apace</p> +<p>Another Stream o’er-flow’d her beauteous Face;</p> +<p class="indent">Ah happy Nymph, said she, that can</p> +<p class="indent">So little value that false Creature, Man.</p> + +<p class="stanza"> +Oft the perfidious things will cry,</p> +<p class="indent">Alas they burn, they bleed, they die;</p> +<p class="indent">But if they’re absent half a Day,</p> +<p>Nay, let ’em be but one poor Hour away,</p> +<p class="indent">No more they die, no more complain,</p> +<p class="indent">But like unconstant Wretches live again.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">45</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Well, have you consider’d of that Business yet, <i>Isabella</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +What business?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Of giving me admittance to night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And may I trust your honesty?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Oh, doubt me not, my mother’s resolv’d it shall be a match between you +and I, and that very consideration will secure thee: besides, who would +first sully the Linen they mean to put on?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Away, here’s my Mother.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Fancy</em> <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag21" +id="patient_texttag21" href="#patient_textnote21">and +<em>Maundy</em></a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Madam, I beg your pardon for my absence, the effects of my Obedience, +not Will; but Sir <i>Patient</i> is taken very ill o’th’ sudden, and I +must humbly intreat your Ladyship to retire, for Rest is only essential +to his Recovery.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Congruously spoken, upon my Honour. Oh, the impudence of this Fellow +your Ladyship’s Husband, to espouse so fair a Person only to make a +Nurse of!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Alas, Madam!—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +A Slave, a very Houshold Drudge.—Oh, faugh, come never +grieve;—for, Madam, his Disease is nothing but Imagination, +a Melancholy which arises from the Liver, Spleen, and Membrane +call’d <i>Mesenterium</i>; the <i>Arabians</i> name the Distemper +<i>Myrathial</i>, and we here in <i>England</i>, <i>Hypochondriacal +Melancholy</i>; I cou’d prescribe a most potent Remedy, but that I +am loth to stir the Envy of the College.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Really, Madam, I believe—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +But as you say, Madam, we’ll leave him to his Repose; pray do not grieve +too much.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Death! wou’d I had the consoling her, ’tis a charming Woman!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, your Hand; Madam, your most faithful +Servant.—<i>Lucretia</i>, come, <i>Lucretia</i>.—Your +Servant, Ladies and Gentleman.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">46</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +A Devil on her, wou’d the Nimbleness of her Ladyship’s Tongue were in +her Heels, she wou’d make more haste away: oh, I long for the blest +minute.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +<i>Isabella</i>, shall I find admittance anon?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +On fair Conditions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Trust my Generosity.—Madam, your Slave. +<span class="stagedir continue">Ex.</span> +<span class="stagedir"> +To L. <em>Fan.</em> gazing on her, goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Madam, I wou’d say something of your Charms and celestial Graces, but +that all Praises are as far below you, as the Moon in her Opposition is +below the Sun;—and so, luscious Lady, I am yours: Now for my +Serenade—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. all but L. <em>Fan.</em> and <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +<i>Maundy</i>, have you commanded all the Servants to bed?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Yes, Madam, not a Mouse shall stir, and I have made ready the Chamber +next the Garden for your Ladyship.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Then there needs no more but that you wait for <i>Wittmore’s</i> coming +to the Garden-Gate, and take care no Lights be in the House for fear of +Eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Madam, I understand Lovers are best by dark, and shall be diligent: the +Doctor has secur’d Sir <i>Patient</i> by a sleeping Pill, and you are +only to expect your approaching Happiness.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneII" id="patient_actIII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +Lady <em>Knowell’s</em> Chamber.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Knowell</em> and <em>Leander</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +<i>Leander</i>, raise your Soul above that little trifle +<i>Lucretia</i>;—cannot you guess what better Fate attends you? +fy, how dull you are! must I instruct you in plain right-down Terms? and +tell you, that I propose you Master of my Fortune.—Now possibly +you understand me.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lucretia</em>, and peeps.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I wish I did not, Madam,</p> +<p>Unless I’d Virtue to deserve the Bounty;</p> +<span class="pagenum">47</span> +<p>I have <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag22" id="patient_texttag22" href="#patient_textnote22">a thousand Faults</a> +Dissimulation hides,</p> +<p>Inconstant, wild, debauch’d as Youth can make me.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +All that will not do your Business. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Yet you wou’d have my Daughter take you with all these Faults; they’re +Virtues there, but to the name of Mother, they all turn retrograde: +I can endure a Man</p> +<div class="verse continue"> +<p>As wild and as inconstant as she can;</p> +<p>I have a Fortune too that can support that Humour,</p> +<p>That of <i>Lucretia</i> does depend on me,</p> +<p>And when I please is nothing;</p> +<p>I’m far from Age or Wrinkles, can be courted</p> +<p>By Men, as gay and youthful as a new Summer’s Morn,</p> +<p>Beauteous as the first Blossoms of the Spring,</p> +<p>Before the common Sun has kiss’d their Sweets away,</p> +<p>If with salacious Appetites I lov’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Faith, Madam, I cou’d wish—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +That I were but Fifteen: but</p> +<p>If there be inequality in Years,</p> +<p>There is so too in Fortunes, that might add</p> +<p>A Lustre to my Eyes, Charms to my Person,</p> +<p>And make me fair as <i>Venus</i>, young as <i>Hebe</i>.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Madam, you have enough to engage any unconquer’d Heart; but ’twas, +I thought, with your allowance I dispos’d of mine, and ’tis a Heart +that knows not how to change.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Then ’tis a foolish unambitious Heart, unworthy of the Elevation it has +not glorious Pride enough to aim at:—Farewel, Sir,—when you +are wiser, you may find admittance. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Stay, Madam—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lucretia</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +For what? to hear your Penitence! Forgive me, Madam, I will be a +Villain, forget my Vows of Love, made to <i>Lucretia</i>.</p> +<div class="verse continue"> +<p>And sacrifice both her, and those to Interest.</p> +<p>Oh, how I hate this whining and dissembling!</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">48</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Do, triumph o’er a wretched Man, <i>Lucretia</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +How! wretched in loving me so entirely, or that you cannot marry my +Mother, and be Master of her mighty Fortune? ’Tis a Temptation indeed so +between Love and Interest, hang me if ever I saw so simple a Look as you +put on when my Mother made love to you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +You may easily guess the Confusion of a Man in my Circumstances, to be +languishing for the lov’d Daughter, and pursu’d by the hated Mother, +whom if I refuse will ruin all my hopes of thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Refuse her! I hope you have more Wit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +<i>Lucretia</i>, cou’d she make a Monarch of me, I cou’d not marry +her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +And you wou’d be so wise to tell her so?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I wou’d no more abuse her, than I cou’d love her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Yet that last must be done.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +How!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Dost believe me so wicked to think I mean in earnest? No, tell her a +fine Story of Love and Liking, gaze on her, kiss her Hands, and sigh, +commend her Face and Shape, swear she’s the Miracle of the Age for Wit, +cry up her Learning, vow you were an Ass not to be sensible of her +Perfections all this while; what a Coxcomb, to doat upon the Daughter +when such Charms were so visible in the Mother? Faith, she’ll believe +all this.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +It may be so, but what will all this serve for?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +To give us time and opportunity to deceive her, or I’m mistaken.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I cannot teach my Tongue so much Deceit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +You may be a Fool, and cry, Indeed forsooth I cannot love, for alas I +have lost my Heart, and am unworthy of your proffer’d +Blessings—do, and see her marry me <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag23" id="patient_texttag23" href="#patient_textnote23">in spite to</a> this Fop <i>Easy</i>, this Knight +of Nonsense: no, no, dissemble me handsomely and like a Gentleman, and +then expect your good Fortune.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">49</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Madam, your Mother’s coming.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Away then, she must not see us together, she thinks you gone.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +But must I carry off no Comfort with me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Will you expose me to the incens’d Jealousy of a Parent? go, or I shall +hate ye.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Thrusts him out.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneIII" id="patient_actIII_sceneIII"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag24" id="patient_texttag24" +href="#patient_textnote24"><span class="smallcaps">Scene +III.</span></a> +A Garden. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em> by dark: Opens the Garden-Door.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Now am I return’d to my old Trade again, fetch and carry my Lady’s +Lovers; I was afraid when she had been married, these Night-works +wou’d have ended; but to say truth, there’s a Conscience to be used in +all things, and there’s no reason she should languish with an old Man +when a Young Man may be had.—The Door opens, he’s come.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>.</p> + +<p>I see you’re a punctual Lover, Sir, pray follow me as softly as you +can.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +This is some one whom I perceive <i>Isabella</i> has made the Confident +to our Amours.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneIV" id="patient_actIII_sceneIV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene IV.</span></a> +Draws off, and discovers L. <em>Fancy</em> in her Night-gown, in a +Chamber as by the dark.</h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, the agreeable Confusion of a Lover high with expectation of the +approaching Bliss! What Tremblings between Joy and Fear possess me? All +my whole Soul is taken up with <i>Wittmore</i>; I’ve no Ideas, no +Thoughts but of <i>Wittmore</i>, and sure my Tongue can speak no other +Language, but his Name.—Who’s there?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em> leading <em>Lodwick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Madam, ’tis I, and your expected Lover here—I put him into +your hands, and will wait your Commands in the next Chamber. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Maun.</em></span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">50</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Where are you, my dearest Creature?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Here—give me your Hand, I’ll lead you to those Joys we both so +long have sigh’d for.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hah! to Joys; sure she doth but dally with me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Why come you not on, my dear?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +And yet, why this Admission, and is th’ dark too, if she design’d me +none but virtuous Favours?—What damn’d Temptation’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Are you bewitch’d? what is’t that frights you?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I’m fix’d: Death, was ever such a Lover?</p> +<p>Just ready for the highest Joys of Love,</p> +<p>And like a bashful Girl restrain’d by Fear</p> +</div> +<p class="continue"> +Of an insuing Infamy—I hate to cuckold my own Expectations.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Heavens! what can you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Death, what’s this?—sure ’tis not Virtue in me,—Pray Heaven +it be not Impotence!—Where got I this damn’d Honesty, which I +never found my self master of till now!—why shou’d it seize me +when I had least need on’t?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +What ails you? are you mad?—we are safe, and free as Winds let +loose to ruffle all the Groves; what is’t delays you then? Soft.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Pox o’ this thought of Wife, the very Name destroys my appetite.</p> +<div class="verse"> +<p>Oh, with what Vigour I could deal my Love</p> +<p>To some fair leud unknown,</p> +<p>To whom I’d never made a serious Vow!</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Tell me the Mystery of this sudden Coldness: have I kept my Husband in +Town for this? Nay, persuaded him to be very sick to serve our purpose, +and am I thus rewarded—ungrateful Man!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hah,—’tis not <i>Isabella’s</i> Voice,—your Husband, say +you? +<span class="stagedir"> +Takes hold greedily of her Hand.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Is safe, from any fear of interrupting us.</p> +<span class="pagenum">51</span> +<p>Come—these Delays do ill consist with Love</p> +<p>And our Desires; at least if they are equal.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Death, ’tis the charming Mother!</p> +<p>What lucky Star directed me to night?</p> +<p>O my fair Dissembler, let us haste</p> +<p>To pay the mighty Tributes due to Love.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Follow me then with careful Silence,—for <i>Isabella’s</i> Chamber +joins to this, and she may hear us.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Not Flowers grow, nor smooth Streams glide away,</p> +<p>Not absent Lovers sigh, nor breaks the Day,</p> +<p>More silently than I’ll those Joys receive,</p> +<p>Which Love and Darkness do conspire to give.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneV" id="patient_actIII_sceneV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene V.</span></a> +Changes again to a Garden.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em> and <em>Fanny</em> in their Night-gowns.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Well, I have no mind to let this dear mad Devil <i>Lodwick</i> in to +night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Why, Sister, this is not the first Venture you have made of this kind, +at this Hour, and in this Place; these Arbours were they tell-tales, +cou’d discover many pretty stories of your Loves, and do you think +they’ll be less faithful now? pray trust them once again. Oh, I do +so love to hear Mr. <i>Lodwick</i> protest, and vow, and swear, and +dissemble, and when you don’t believe him, rail at you,—avads, +’tis the prettiest Man—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I have a strange apprehension of being surpriz’d to night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +I’ll warrant you, I’ll sit on yon Bank of Pinks, and when I hear a Noise +I’ll come and tell you; so <i>Lodwick</i> may slip out at the back Gate, +and we may be walking up and down as if we meant no harm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +You’ll grow very expert in the Arts of Love, <i>Fanny</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +When I am big enough I shall do my Endeavour, for I have heard you say, +Women were born to no other +<span class="pagenum">52</span> +end than to love: And ’tis fit I should learn to live and die in my +calling.—Come, open the Gate, or you’ll repent it, we shall have +my Father marry you within a day or two to that ugly Man that speaks +hard Words,—avads, I can’t abide him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +What Noise is that?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Why, ’tis Mr. <i>Lodwick</i> at the Garden-Door;—let him in whilst +I’ll to my flowry Bank, and stand Centinel.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Runs off. <em>Isabella</em> opens the Gate.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Who’s there?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Speak low, who shou’d it be but the kind Fool her self, who can deny you +nothing but what you dare not take?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Not take! what’s that? hast thou reserves in store?</p> +<p>—Oh, come and let me lead thee to thy Bed,</p> +<p>Or seat thee on some Bank of softer Flowers,</p> +<p>Where I may rifle all thy unknown Store.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +How! surely you’re not in earnest?—Do you love me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Love thee! by thy dear self, all that my Soul adores,</p> +<p>I’m all impatient Flame! all over Love!</p> +<p>—You do not use to doubt, but since you do,</p> +<p>Come, and I’ll satisfy thy obliging Fears,</p> +<p>And give thee Proofs how much my Soul is thine,</p> +<p>I’ll breathe it all anew into thy Bosom.—</p> +<p>Oh, thou art fit for the transporting Play,</p> +<p>All loose and wanton, like the Queen of Love</p> +<p>When she descends to meet the Youth in Shades.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And are you, Sir, in earnest? can it be?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That question was severe, what means my Love?</p> +<p>What pretty Art is this to blow my Flame?</p> +<p>Are you not mine? did we not meet t’enjoy?</p> +<p>I came not with more vigorous eager Haste,</p> +<span class="pagenum">53</span> +<p>When our first Sacrifice to Love we paid,</p> +<p>Than to perform that Ceremony now.</p> +<p>Come do not let the Sacred Fire burn out,</p> +<p>Which only was prepar’d for Love’s rich Altar,</p> +<p>And this is the divine, dark, silent Minute— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes to lead her off.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Hold, Ravisher, and know this saucy Passion</p> +<p>Has render’d back your Interest. Now I hate ye,</p> +<p>And my Obedience to my Father’s Will</p> +<p>Shall marry me to <i>Fainlove</i>, and I’ll despise ye. +<span class="stagedir"> +Flings from him.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Hah! <i>Isabella!</i> Death, I have made sweet work,—stay, +gentle Maid,—she’ll ruin all if she go:—stay—she knew +me, and cunningly drew me to this Discovery; I’ll after her and +undeceive her.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Runs after her.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +A confused Noise of the Serenade, the<br> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneVI" id="patient_actIII_sceneVI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene VI</span></a> +draws off to Lady <em>Fancy’s</em> Anti-chamber.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em> groping as in the dark.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Pray Heaven I get undiscover’d to my Chamber, where I’ll make Vows +against this perjured Man; hah, sure he follows still; no Wood-Nymph +ever fled before a Satyr, with half that trembling haste I flew from +<i>Lodwick</i>.—Oh, he has lost his Virtue, and undone me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Goes out groping, and the noise of Serenade again.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneVII" id="patient_actIII_sceneVII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene VII.</span></a> +Changes to Lady <em>Fancy’s</em> Bed-chamber, discovers her as before; +<em>Lodwick</em> as just risen in Disorder from the Bed, buttoning +himself, and setting himself in order; and Noise at the Door of +unlatching it.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em> groping, Sir <em>Patient</em> without.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +It is this Door that open’d, and which I thought I had secur’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<span class="aside"><a class="notes" name="patient_texttag25" id="patient_texttag25" href="#patient_textnote25">Within.</a></span> +Oh, insupportable, abominable, and not to be indur’d!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">54</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Hah, my Father! I’m discover’d and pursu’d,—grant me to find the +Bed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Heavens! ’twas my Husband’s Voice, sure we’re betray’d. It must be so, +for what Devil but that of Jealousy cou’d raise him at this late +hour?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Hah, where am I, and who is’t that speaks— +<span class="stagedir"> +To her self.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +So, he must know that I have made a Cuckold of him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<span class="aside"><a class="notes" name="patient_texttag26" id="patient_texttag26" href="#patient_textnote26">Within.</a></span> +Call up my Men, the Coachman, Groom, and Butler, the Footmen, Cook, and +Gardiner; bid ’em all rise and arm, with long Staff, Spade and +Pitchfork, and sally out upon the Wicked.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +S’heart! what a Death shall I die:—is there no place of safety +hereabouts—for there is no resisting these unmerciful Weapons.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +A Man’s Voice!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I know of none, nor how to prevent your <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag27" id="patient_texttag27" href="#patient_textnote27">Discovery</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<span class="aside"><a class="notes" href="#patient_textnote27a">Within.</a></span> +Oh, oh, lead me forward, I’ll lie here on the Garden-side, out of the +hearing of this Hellish Noise.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Hah, Noise!—what means he?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Nay, I know not, is there no escaping?—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Who can they be that talk thus? sure I have mistook my Chamber.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, he’s coming in—I’m ruin’d; what shall we do? here—get +into the Bed—and cover your self with the +Clothes—quickly—oh, my Confusion will betray me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Lodwick</em> gets into the Bed, <em>Isabella</em> hides behind the +Curtain very near to him.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em>, led by <em>Nurse</em> and <em>Maundy</em>, +with Lights.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Pray go back, Sir, my poor Lady will be frighted out of her Wits at this +danger you put your self into, the Noise shall be still’d.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">55</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, what’s the matter with my Love? what, do you mean to murder him? oh, +lead him instantly back to his Bed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, oh, no, I’ll lie here,—put me to bed, oh, +I faint,—my Chamber’s possest with twenty thousand Evil +Spirits.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Possest! what sickly Fancy’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, the House is beset, surrounded and confounded with profane tinkling, +with Popish Horn-Pipes, and Jesuitical Cymbals, more Antichristian and +Abominable than Organs, or Anthems.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Nurse.</span> +Yea verily, and surely it is the spawn of Cathedral Instruments plaid on +by Babylonish Minstrels, only to disturb the Brethren.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ay, ’tis so, call up my Servants, and let them be first chastiz’d and +then hang’d; accuse ’em for <i>French</i> Papishes, that had a design to +fire the City, or any thing:—oh, I shall die—lead me +gently to this Bed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +To hinder him will discover all:—stay, Sir.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, my Lady turn’d rebellious!—put me to Bed I say;— +<span class="aside">Throws himself forward to the Bed.</span> +—hah—what’s here?—what are +thou,—a Man,—hah, a Man, Treason! betray’d! my +Bed’s defil’d, my Lady polluted, and I am cornuted; oh thou vile Serpent +of my Bosom!</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +She stands with her Face towards the Stage in signs of fear.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +A Man, and in my virtuous Lady Mother’s Chamber! how fortunate was I to +light on this discovery!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Well, Sir, since you have seen him, I beseech you for my sake, +Dear, pardon him this one time. +<span class="stagedir"> +Coakesing him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Thou beg his Pardon! Oh, was ever heard such Impudence!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Indeed, my Love, he is to blame; but we that are judicious should bear +with the Frailities of Youth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh insupportable Audacity!—what canst thou say, false Woman?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">56</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Truly not much in his Defence, my Dear.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Oh cunning Devil!—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +But, Sir, to hide the weakness of your Daughter, I have a little +strain’d my Modesty.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Heavens! what says she?—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +’Tis <i>Isabella’s</i> Lover, Sir, whom I’ve conceal’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +A good hint to save both our Credits.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i> mean you?</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Lodwick</em> rises and comes a little more forward, +<em>Isabella</em> does the like, till both meet at the feet of the Bed, +and start, <em>Lodwick</em> looking simply.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Ay, my dear, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +<i>Isabella</i> here! must she know too what a fine inconstant Dog I +am?—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Lodwick!</i> and in my Mother’s Chamber! may I believe my Eyes!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +But how got he hither?—tell me that: oh Youth, Youth, to what +degree of Wickedness art thou arriv’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +She appointed him to come this Night, Sir, and he going to her Chamber, +by mistake came into mine, it being the next to her’s.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +But, Lord, Sir, had you heard how my Lady school’d him, whilst I ran +down to fetch a Light!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Now does my Conscience tell me, I am a damn’d Villain.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside, looking pitifully on <em>Isabella</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +But the poor Man presently perceiv’d his mistake, and beg’d my pardon in +such feeling Terms—that I vow I had not the heart to deny it +him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Oh Traytor! wou’d thou hadst been that Ravisher I took thee for, rather +than such a Villain—false! and with my Mother too!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +And just then, Sir, you came to the Door, and lest you shou’d see him, +intreated me to hide him from your Anger,—the Offence is not so +heinous, Sir, considering he is so soon to marry her.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">57</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, Sir, and what have you to say in your Defence?—hah, how, Mr. +<i>Knowell</i>,—worse and worse,—why, how came you hither, +Sir? hah.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Not <i>Wittmore</i>! oh, I am ruin’d and betray’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Falls almost in a swoon.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, <i>Isabella</i> here too!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Yes, Sir, to justify her Innocence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah! Innocence! and justify! take her away; go out of my sight, thou +Limb of Satan,—take her away, I say, I’ll talk with you to +morrow, Lady Finetricks—I will.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +—And I’ll know before I sleep, the mystery of all this, and who +’twas this faithless Man sent in his room to deceive me in the Garden. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +A plague of all ill-luck—how the Devil came she hither? +I must follow and reconcile her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Going out, Sir <em>Patient</em> stays him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Nay, Sir, we must not part so till I have known the truth of this +Business, I take it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Truth, Sir! oh, all that your fair Lady has said, Sir; I must +confess her Eyes have wounded me enough with Anger, you need not add +more to my Shame.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Some little comfort yet, that he prov’d indeed to be <i>Isabella’s</i> +Lover: Oh, that I should mistake so unluckily! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, I thought it had been Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +By all that’s good, and so did I.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I know you did, Madam, or you had not been so kind to me: Your Servant, +dear Madam.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Going, Sir <em>Patient</em> stays him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Pray, Sir, let him go; oh, how I abominate the sight of a Man that cou’d +be so wicked as he has been!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ha,—good Lady, excellent Woman: well, Sir, for my Lady’s sake I’ll +let you pass with this, but if I catch you here again, I shall +spoil your Intrigues, Sir, marry, shall I, and so rest ye satisfied, +Sir.—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">58</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +At this time, I am, Sir—Madam, a thousand Blessings on you +for this Goodness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Ten thousand Curses upon thee,—go, boast the Ruin you have made. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to <em>Lod.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Come, no more Anger now, my Lady; the Gentleman’s sorry you see, I’ll +marry my pert Huswife to morrow for this.—<i>Maundy</i>, see the +Gentleman safe out:—ah, put me to Bed; ah, this Night’s Work will +kill me, ah, ah.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt <em>Lodwick</em> and <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +The Scene draws over Sir <em>Patient</em> and Lady: draws again and +discovers<br> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneVIII" id="patient_actIII_sceneVIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene VIII.</span></a> +The Garden, <em>Wittmore</em>, <em>Fanny</em>, and +<em>Isabella</em>.</h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +How, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, it cannot be.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Indeed, Sister, ’tis the same, for all he talks so; and he told me his +coming was but to try your Virtue only.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em> and <em>Maundy</em> as passing over, but +stand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +That <i>Fainlove</i>! whom I am so soon to marry! and but this day +courted me in another Dialect!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That was my Policy, Madam, to pass upon your Father with. But I’m a Man +that knows the value of the Fair, and saw Charms of Beauty and of Wit in +you, that taught me to know the way to your Heart was to appear my self, +which now I do. Why did you leave me so unkindly but now?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hah, what’s this? whilst I was grafting Horns on another’s Head, some +kind Friend was doing that good Office for me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Sure ’tis <i>Wittmore</i>!—oh that Dissembler—this was his +Plot upon my Lady, to gain time with <i>Isabella</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +And being so near my Happiness, can you blame me, if I made a trial +whether your Virtue were agreeable to your Beauty, great, and to be +equally ador’d?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">59</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Death, I’ve heard enough to forfeit all my Patience!—Draw, Sir, +and make a trial of your Courage too.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Hah, what desperate Fool art thou? +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +One that will see thee fairly damn’d, e’er yield his Interest up in +<i>Isabella</i>—oh thou false Woman!</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +They fight out, <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag28" id="patient_texttag28" href="#patient_textnote28"><em>Isabella</em>, +<em>Fanny</em></a>, and <em>Maundy</em> run off.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIII_sceneIX" id="patient_actIII_sceneIX"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene IX.</span></a> +Changes to the long Street, a Pageant of an Elephant coming from +the farther end with Sir <em>Credulous</em> on it, and several others +playing on strange confused Instruments.</h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +This sure is extraordinary, or the Devil’s in’t, and I’ll ne’er trust +Serenade more. +<span class="stagedir continue">Come forward, and all play +again.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Hold, hold, now for the Song, which because I wou’d have most +deliciously and melodiously sung, I’ll sing my self; look +ye,—hum—hum.—</p> + +<h5>Sir <i>Credulous</i> should have sung.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p class="indent"> +<span class="firstword">Thou</span> Grief of my Heart, and thou Pearl +of my Eyes,</p> +<p class="indent"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag29" id="patient_texttag29" +href="#patient_textnote29">D’on thy Flannel</a> Petticoat quickly, and +rise;</p> +<p class="indent"> +And from thy resplendent Window discover</p> +<p class="indent"> +A Face that wou’d mortify any young Lover:</p> +<p class="indent"> +For I, like great <em>Jove</em> transformed, do wooe,</p> +<p>And am amorous Owl, to wit to wooe, to wit to wooe.</p> + +<p class="stanza indent"> +A Lover, Ads Zoz, is a sort of a Tool</p> +<p class="indent"> +That of all Things you best may compare to an Owl:</p> +<p class="indent"> +For in some dark Shades he delights still to sit,</p> +<p class="indent"> +And all the Night long he crys wo to wit.</p> +<p class="indent"> +Then rise, my bright <em>Cloris</em>, and <ins class="correction" +title="text unchanged: see Note on Flannel">d’on on</ins> slip +shoe:</p> +<p>And hear thy amorous Owl chant, wit to wooe, wit to wooe.</p> +</div> + +<p>—Well, this won’t do, for I perceive no Window open, nor Lady +bright appear, to talk obligingly:—perhaps the Song does not +please her: you Ballad-singers, have you no good Songs of another +fashion?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">60</span> +<p><span class="speaker">1 Man.</span> +Yes, Sir, Several, <i>Robin—Hark how the Waters fall, fall, +fall!</i></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How, Man! Zoz, remove us farther off, for fear of wetting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">1 Man.</span> +No, no, Sir, I only gave my Fellow a hint of an excellent Ballad that +begins—<i>Ill-wedded Joys, how quickly do you fade!</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Sings.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ay, ay, that, we’ll have that,—<i>Ill-wedded Joys, how quickly do +you fade</i>,— +<span class="aside">Sings.</span> +That’s excellent! Oh, now the Windows open, now, now shew your capering +Tricks. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Vaulting.</span> +<span class="stagedir"> +They all play again.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag30" id="patient_texttag30" +href="#patient_textnote30">Enter <em>Roger</em></a> and a Company of +Fellows as out of Sir <em>Patient’s</em> House, led on by <em>Abel</em> +a precise Clerk, all armed with odd Weapons.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Abel.</span> +Verily, verily, here be these Babes of Perdition, these Children of +Iniquity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +A pox of your Babes and Children, they are Men, and Sons of Whores, whom +we must bang confoundedly, for not letting honest godly People rest +quietly in their Beds at Midnight.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Who’s there?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +There, with a Pox to you; cannot a Right-worshipful Knight, that has +been sick these Twenty Years with taking Physick, sleep quietly in his +own House for you; and must we be rais’d out of our Beds to quiet your +Hell-pipes, in the Devil’s name?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Abel.</span> +Down with <i>Gog</i> and <i>Magog</i>, there; there’s the rotten Bell +weather that leads the rest astray, and defiles the whole Flock.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Hang your preaching, and let’s come to him, we’ll maul him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Beat Sir <em>Cred.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh, Quarter, Quarter, Murder, Help, Murder, Murder!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">61</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Damn these Rascals, who e’er they were, that so unluckily redeem’d a +Rival from my Fury,—Hah, they are here,—Egad, I’ll have one +touch more with ’em,—the Dogs are spoiling my design’d Serenade +too—have amongst ye.— +<span class="aside">Fights and beats ’em off.</span> +Sir <i>Credulous</i>, how is’t?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Who’s there? <i>Lodwick?</i> Oh dear Lad, is’t thou that hast redeem’d +me from the inchanted Cudgels that demolish’d my triumphant Pageant, and +confounded my Serenade? Zoz, I’m half kill’d, Man,—I have +never a whole Bone about me sure.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Come in with me—a plague upon the Rascal that escap’d me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag31" id="patient_texttag31" +href="#patient_textnote31">Exeunt.</a></p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="patient_actIV" id="patient_actIV"> +ACT IV.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIV_sceneI" id="patient_actIV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +Lady <em>Knowell’s</em> House.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lucretia</em>, followed by Sir <em>Credulous</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Marry’d to morrow! and leave my Mother the possession of <i>Leander</i>! +I’ll die a thousand Deaths first.—How the Fool haunts me! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, delicious Lady, you may say your Pleasure; but I will justify the +Serenade to be as high a piece of Gallantry as was ever practised in our +Age, though not comparable to your Charms and celestial Graces, which +shou’d I praise as I ought, ’twou’d require more time than the Sun +employs in his natural Motion between the Tropicks; that is to say, +a whole Year, (for by the way, I am no <i>Copernican</i>) for, +Dear Madam, you must know, my Rhetorick Master,—I say, my +Rhetorick Master, who was—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +As great a Coxcomb as your self;—pray leave me, I am +serious—I must go seek out <i>Lodwick</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Leave ye! I thank you for that, i’faith, before I have spoke out my +Speech; therefore I say, Divine Lady—because my Rhetorick Master +commanded the frequent +<span class="pagenum">62</span> +use of <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag9" id="patient_commtag9" href="#patient_commnote9"><i>Hypallages</i></a>, +<i>Allegories</i>, and the richest Figures of that beauteous +Art,—because my Rhetorick—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +I must leave the Fool, follow if you dare, for I have no leisure to +attend your Nonsense. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Knowell</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +What, alone, Sir <i>Credulous</i>? I left you with +<i>Lucretia</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +<i>Lucretia!</i> I’m sure she makes a very <i>Tarquinius Sextus</i> of +me, and all about this Serenade,—I protest and vow, +incomparable Lady, I had begun the sweetest Speech to +her—though I say’t, such Flowers of Rhetorick—’twou’d have +been the very Nosegay of Eloquence, so it wou’d; and like an ungrateful +illiterate Woman as she is, she left me in the very middle on’t, so +snuffy I’ll warrant.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Be not discourag’d, Sir, I’ll adapt her to a reconciliation: Lovers must +sometimes expect these little <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag10" id="patient_commtag10" href="#patient_commnote10"><i>Belli fugaces</i></a>; the <i>Grecians</i> +therefore truly named Love <i>Glucupicros Eros</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, bright Lady, I am as little discourag’d as another, but I’m sorry I +gave so extraordinary a Serenade to so little purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Name it no more, ’twas only a Gallantry mistaken; but I’ll accelerate +your Felicity, and to morrow shall conclude the great dispute, since +there is such Volubility and Vicissitude in mundane Affairs. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>, stays Sir <em>Credulous</em> as he is going out +the other way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sir <i>Credulous</i>, whither away so fast?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Zoz, what a Question’s there? dost not know I am to unty the Virgin Zone +to morrow, that is, barter Maiden-heads with thy Sister, that is, to be +married to her, Man, and I must to <i>Lincolns-Inn</i> to my Counsel +about it?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +My Sister just now told me of it; but, Sir, you must not stir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">63</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, what’s the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Have you made your Will?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +My Will! no, why my Will, Man?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Then, for the good of your Friends and Posterity, stir not from this +place.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Good Lord, <i>Lodwick</i>, thou art the strangest Man,—what do you +mean to fright a body thus?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +You remember the Serenade last night?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Remember it? Zoz, I think I do, here be the marks on’t sure.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls off his Peruke, and shews his Head broke.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Ads me, your Head’s broke.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +My Head broke! why, ’twas a hundred to one but my Neck had been +broke.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Faith, not unlikely,—you know the next House is Sir <i>Patient +Fancy’s</i>; <i>Isabella</i> too, you know, is his Daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Yes, yes, she was by when I made my dumb Oration.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +The same,—this Lady has a Lover, a mad, furious, fighting, +killing Hector, (as you know there are enough about this Town) this +Monsieur supposing you to be a Rival, and that your Serenade was +address’d to her—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Enough, I understand you, set those Rogues on to murder me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Wou’d ’twere no worse.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Worse! Zoz, Man, what the Devil can be worse?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, he has vow’d to kill you himself wherever he meets you, and now +waits below to that purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Sha, sha, if that be all, I’ll to him immediately, and make Affidavit I +never had any such design. Madam <i>Isabella</i>! ha, ha, alas, poor +man, I have some body else to think on.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Affidavit! why, he’ll not believe you, should you swear your Heart out: +some body has possess’d him that +<span class="pagenum">64</span> +you are a damn’d Fool, and a most egregious Coward, a Fellow that +to save your Life will swear any thing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What cursed Luck’s this!—why, how came he to know I liv’d +here?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I believe he might have it from <i>Leander</i>, who is his Friend.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +<i>Leander!</i> I must confess I never lik’d that <i>Leander</i> since +yesterday.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +He has deceiv’d us all, that’s the truth on’t; for I have lately found +out too, that he’s your Rival, and has a kind of a—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Smattering to my Mistress, hah, and therefore wou’d not be wanting to +give me a lift out of this World; but I shall give her such a +go-by—my Lady <i>Knowell</i> understands the difference between +three Thousand a Year, and—prithee what’s his Estate?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Shaw—not sufficient to pay Surgeons Bills.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Alas, poor Rat, how does he live then?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hang him, the Ladies keep him; ’tis a good handsome Fellow, and has a +pretty Town-Wit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +He a Wit! what, I’ll warrant he writes Lampoons, rails at Plays, curses +all Poetry but his own, and mimicks the Players—ha.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Some such common Notions he has that deceives the ignorant Rabble, +amongst whom he passes for a very smart Fellow,—’life, he’s +here.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Leander</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, what shall I do, he will not affront me before Company? hah!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Not in our House, Sir,—bear up and take no notice on’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lod.</em> whispers <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +No notice, quoth he? why, my very Fears will betray me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Let me alone—<i>Lodwick</i>, I met just now with an +<i>Italian</i> Merchant, who has made me such a Present!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">65</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +What is’t prithee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +A Sort of specifick Poison for all the Senses, especially for that of +smelling; so that had I a Rival, and I should see him at any reasonable +distance, I could direct a little of this Scent up to his Brain so +subtlely, that it shall not fail of Execution in a day or two.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How—Poison! +<span class="stagedir"> +Shewing great Signs of Fear, and holding his Nose.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Nay, shou’d I see him in the midst of a thousand People, I can so +direct it, that it shall assault my Enemy’s Nostrils only, without any +effects on the rest of the Company.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh,—I’m a dead Man!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Is’t possible?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Perhaps some little sneezing or so, no harm; but my Enemy’s a dead Man, +Sir, kill’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, this is the most damn’d <i>Italian</i> Trick I ever heard of; why, +this outdoes the famous Poisoner <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag11" id="patient_commtag11" href="#patient_commnote11">Madam <i>Brenvilliers</i></a>; well, here’s no +jesting, I perceive that, <i>Lodwick</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Fear nothing, I’ll secure you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to him.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p>—<i>Wittmore!</i> how is’t, Friend! thou lookest cloudy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +You’ll hardly blame me, Gentlemen, when you shall know what a damn’d +unfortunate Rascal I am.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Prithee what’s the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Why, I am to be marry’d, Gentlemen, marry’d to day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +How, marry’d! nay, Gad, then thou’st reason; but to whom prithee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +There’s the Devil on’t again, to a fine young fair, brisk Woman, that +has all the Temptations Heaven can give her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +What pity ’tis they shou’d be bestow’d to so wicked an end! Is this your +Intrigue, that has been so long conceal’d from your Friends?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">66</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +We thought it had been some kind Amour, something of Love and +Honour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Is she rich? if she be wondrous rich, we’ll excuse thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Her Fortune will be suitable to the Jointure I shall make her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Nay then ’tis like to prove a hopeful Match; what a Pox can provoke thee +to this, dost love her?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +No, there’s another Plague, I am cursedly in love elsewhere; and +this was but a false Address, to hide that real one.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +How, love another? in what quality and manner?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +As a Man ought to love, with a good substantial Passion, without any +design but that of right-down honest Injoyment.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Ay, now we understand thee, this is something. Ah Friend, I had +such an Adventure last Night.—You may talk of your Intrigues and +substantial Pleasures, but if any of you can match mine,—Egad, +I’ll forswear Womankind.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +An Adventure! prithee where?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What, last Night, when you rescued me from the <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag12" id="patient_commtag12" href="#patient_commnote12">Bilbo-Blades</a>! indeed ye look’d a little +furiously.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I had reason, I was just then come out of a Garden from fighting with a +Man whom I found with my Mistress; and I had at least known who’t had +been, but for the coming of those Rascals that set on you, who parted +us, whilst he made his escape in the Croud.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Death! that was I, who for fear of being known got away: was’t he then +that I fought with, and whom I learnt lov’d <i>Isabella</i>? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +You must know, Gentlemen, I have a sort of a matrimonial Kindness for a +very pretty Woman, she whom I tell you I disturb’d in the Garden, and +last night she made me an Assignation in her Chamber: when I came to the +Garden-door by which I was to have admittance, I found a kind of +Necessary call’d a Baudy +<span class="pagenum">67</span> +Waiting-Woman, whom I follow’d, and thought she wou’d have conducted me +to the right Woman; but I was luckily and in the dark led into a Lady’s +Chamber, who took me for a Lover she expected: I found my happy +mistake, and wou’d not undeceive her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +This could be none but <i>Lucia</i>. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Well, Sir, and what did you do there?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Do! why, what dost think? all that a Man inspir’d by Love cou’d do, +I followed all the dictates of Nature, Youth, and Vigor.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Oh, hold, my Heart—or I shall kill the Traitor. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Follow’d all the dictates of Nature, Youth and Vigor! prithee what’s +that?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I kiss’d a thousand times her balmy Lips, and greedily took in the +nimble Sighs she breath’d into my Soul.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Oh, I can scarce contain my self. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Pshaw, is that all, Man?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I clasp’d her lovely Body in my Arms,</p> +<p>And laid my Bosom to her panting Breast.</p> +<p>Trembling she seem’d all Love and soft Desire,</p> +<p>And I all Burnings in a youthful Fire.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Bless us, the Man’s in a Rapture!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Damnation on them both.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Well, to the point, Man: what didst do all this while?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Faith, I fancy he did not sleep, Sir <i>Credulous</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +No, Friend, she had too many Charms to keep me waking.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Had she so? I shou’d have beg’d her Charms pardon, I tell her that +though.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Curse on my Sloth, Oh, how shall I dissemble? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Thy Adventure was pretty lucky—but, <i>Wittmore</i>, thou dost not +relish it.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">68</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +My Mind’s upon my Marriage, Sir; if I thought he lov’d <i>Isabella</i>, +I wou’d marry her to be reveng’d on him, at least I’ll vex his +Soul, as he has tortur’d mine.—Well, Gentlemen, you’ll dine with +me,—and give me your opinion of my Wife.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Where dost thou keep the Ceremony?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +At Sir <i>Patient Fancy’s</i>, my Father-in-law<ins class="correction" +title="? for .">. </ins></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +How! Sir <i>Patient Fancy</i> to be your Father-in-law?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +My Uncle?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +He’s fir’d,—’tis his Daughter, Sir, I am to marry.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +<i>Isabella! Leander</i>, can it be? can she consent to this? and can +she love you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Why, Sir, what do you see in me, shou’d render me unfit to be belov’d? +<span class="stagedir"> +Angry.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Marry’d to day! by Heaven, it must not be, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws him aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Why, Sir, I hope this is not the kind Lady who was so soft, so sweet and +charming last night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hold, Sir,—we yet are Friends.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +And might have still been so, hadst thou not basely rob’d me of my +Interest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Death, do you speak my Language? +<span class="stagedir"> +Ready to draw.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +No, take a secret from my angry Heart, which all its Friendship to thee +cou’d not make me utter;—it was my Mistress you surpriz’d last +night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hah, my Lady <i>Fancy</i> his Mistress? Curse on my prating Tongue. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What a Devil’s all this, hard Words, Heart-burnings, Resentments, and +all that?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +You are not quarrelling, I hope, my Friends?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +All this, Sir, we suspected, and smok’d your borrowing Money last night; +and what I said was to gain the mighty secret that had been so long kept +from your Friends:—but thou hast done a baseness— +<span class="stagedir"> +Lays his Hand on his Sword.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">69</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Hold, what’s the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Did you not rob me of the Victory then I’ve been so long a toiling +for?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +If I had, ’twould not have made her guilty, nor me a Criminal; she +taking me for one she lov’d, and I her for one that had no Interest in +my Friend: and who the Devil wou’d have refus’d so fine a Woman? Nor had +I but that I was prevented by her Husband.—But <i>Isabella</i>, +Sir, you must resign.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +I will, provided that our Friendship’s safe; I am this day to marry +her, and if you can find a means to do’t in my room, I shall resign +my Interest to my Friend; for ’tis the lovely Mother I adore.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +And was it you I fought with in the Garden?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Yes, and thereby hangs a tale of a mistake almost equal to thine, which +I’ll at leisure tell you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Talks to <em>Lod.</em> and <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I’m glad they’re Friends; Zoz, here was like to have been a pretty +Business; what damnable work this same Womankind makes in a Nation of +Fools that are Lovers?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Look ye, I am a damn’d dull Fellow at Invention, I’ll therefore leave +you to contrive matters by your selves, whilst I’ll go try how kind +Fortune will be to me this Morning, and see in what readiness my Bride +is. What you do must be thought on suddenly; I’ll wait on you anon, and +let you know how matters go.—I’m as impatient to know the truth of +this, as for an opportunity to enjoy <i>Lucia.</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +<i>Leander</i>, what shall I do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +You were best consult your Mother and Sister; Women are best at +Intrigues of this kind: But what becomes of me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Let me alone to dispatch this Fool, I long to have him out of the +way, he begins to grow troublesome:—but now my Mother expects +you.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">70</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Prithee be careful of me.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What was this long Whisper, something about me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, yes, faith, I was persuading him to speak to his Friend about this +Business; but he swears there’s no hopes of a Reconciliation: you are a +dead Man, unless some cleanly conveyance of you be soon thought on.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, I’ll keep within doors, and defy Malice and foul Weather.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Oh, he means to get a Warrant, and search for stolen Goods, prohibited +Commodities or Conventicles; there’s a thousand Civil Pretences in this +Town to commit Outrages—let me see.— +<span class="stagedir"> +They both pause a while.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Well, I have thought,—and of such a Business, that the Devil’s +in’t if you don’t say I am a man of Intrigue.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +What is’t?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ha, ha, ha, I must have leave to laugh to think how neatly I shall +defeat this Son of a Whore of a thunder thumping Hector.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Be serious, Sir, this is no laughing matter; if I might advise, you +should steal into the Country, for two or three days, till the Business +be blown over.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Lord, thou art so hasty and conceited of thy own Invention, thou wilt +not give a Man leave to think in thy company: why, these were my very +thoughts; nay more, I have found a way to get off clever, though he +watch me as narrowly as an enraged Serjeant upon an Escape.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +That indeed wou’d be a Master-piece.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Why, look ye, do you see that great Basket there?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I do,—this you mean.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls in a Basket.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Very well, put me into this Basket, and cord me down, send for a couple +of Porters, hoist me away with a Direction, to an old Uncle of mine, one +Sir <i>Anthony Bubleton</i> at <i>Bubleton-Hall</i> in <i>Essex</i>; and +then <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag13" id="patient_commtag13" href="#patient_commnote13">whip slap-dash</a>, as +<i>Nokes</i> says in the Play, I’m gone, and who’s the wiser?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I like it well.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">71</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, lose no time in applauding, I’ll in, the Carrier goes this Morning; +farewel, <i>Lodwick</i>.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes Into the Basket.</span></p> +<p>I’ll be here again on <i>Thursday</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lod.</em> writes a Direction.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Boy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +By all means, Sir,—Who’s there,—call a couple of Porters. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit Boy.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +One word more, the Carrier lies at <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag14" id="patient_commtag14" href="#patient_commnote14">the <i>Bell</i> in <i>Friday-street</i></a>, pray +take care they set me not on my Head.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Pops in again.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Boy and two Porters.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Come hither, cord up this Basket, and carry it where he shall +direct.—<i>Leander</i> will never think he’s free from a Rival, +till he have him in his possession—To Mr. <i>Leander Fancy’s</i> +at the next door; say ’tis things for him out of the +Country.—Write a Direction to him on the Basket-lid. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to the Boy.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Porters going to carry off the Basket on a long Pole between ’em.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Knowell</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +What’s this? whither goes this Basket?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ah Lord! they are come with the Warrant. +<span class="stagedir"> +Peeps out of the Basket.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Only Books, Madam, offer’d me to buy, but they do not please me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Books! nay then set down the Basket, Fellows, and let me peruse ’em; who +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag32" id="patient_texttag32" +href="#patient_textnote32">are</a> their Authors, and what their +Language?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A pox of all Learning, I say,—’tis my Mother-in-law. +<span class="stagedir"> +Porters going to set down the Basket.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Hold, hold, Madam, they are only <i>English</i> and some +Law-<i>French</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, faugh, how I hate that vile sort of Reading! up with ’em again, +Fellows, and away. +<span class="stagedir"> +The Porters take up and go out.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">72</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +God-a-mercy, Law-<i>French</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Law-<i>French</i>! out upon’t, I cou’d find in my heart to have the +Porters bring it back, and have it burnt for a Heresy to Learning.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Or thrown into the <i>Thames</i>, that it may float back to +<i>Normandy</i>, to have the Language new modell’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +You say well; but what’s all this <i>ad Iphicli bonis</i>, where’s Sir +<i>Credulous</i> all this while? his Affairs expect him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +So does <i>Leander</i> your Ladyship within.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +<i>Leander! Hymen, Hymenæ</i>, I’ll wait on him, <i>Lodwick</i>; +I am resolv’d you shall marry <i>Isabella</i> too; I have a +design in my head that cannot fail to give you the possession of her +within this two or three hours.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Such an Indulgence will make me the happiest of Men, and I have +something to say to your Ladyship that will oblige you to hasten the +design.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Come in, and let me know it.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIV_sceneII" id="patient_actIV_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag33" id="patient_texttag33" +href="#patient_textnote33">A Chamber in Sir <em>Patient Fancy’s</em> +House.</a><br> +A Table and Chairs.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Fancy</em> in a Morning-dress, <em>Maundy</em> with Pen, +Ink and Paper.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +<i>Wittmore</i> in the Garden, sayst thou, with <i>Isabella</i>! Oh +perjur’d Man! it was by his contrivance then I was betray’d last +night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +I thought so too at first, Madam, till going to conduct Mr. +<i>Knowell</i> through the Garden, he finding Mr. <i>Wittmore</i> there +with <i>Isabella</i> drew on him, and they both fought out of the +Garden: what mischief’s done I know not.—But, Madam, I hope +Mr. <i>Knowell</i> was not uncivil to your Ladyship. I had no time +to ask what pass’d between you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, name it not: I gave him all I had reserv’d for <i>Wittmore</i>. +I was so possess’d with the thoughts of that +<span class="pagenum">73</span> +dear false one, I had no sense free to perceive the +cheat:—but I will be reveng’d.—Come let me end my Letter, we +are safe from interruption.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Yes, Madam, Sir <i>Patient</i> is not yet up, the Doctors have been with +him, and tell him he is not so bad as we persuaded him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +And was he soft and kind?—By all that’s good, she loves him, and +they contriv’d this meeting.—My Pen and Ink—I am +impatient to unload my Soul of this great weight of Jealousy.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Sits down, and writes.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em>, looking over her Shoulder a tip-toe.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Heaven! here’s Sir <i>Patient</i>, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Hah,—and ’tis too late to hide the Paper; I was just going to +subscribe my Name.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Good morrow, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, your Ladyship is well employ’d, +I see.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Indeed I was, and pleasantly too: I am writing a Love-letter, +Sir.—But, my Dear, what makes you so soon up?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A Love-letter!—let me see’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes to take it.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I’ll read it to you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +What mean you, Madam? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Lady <em>Fancy</em> reads.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +It was but yesterday you swore you lov’d me, and I poor easy Fool +believ’d; but your last Night’s Infidelity has undeceiv’d my Heart, and +render’d you the falsest Man that ever Woman sigh’d for. Tell me, how +durst you, when I had prepared all things for our Enjoyment, be so great +a Devil to deceive my languishing Expectations? and in your room send +one that has undone</p> + +<p class="halfway">Your—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Sure she’s mad to read this to him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hum,—I profess ingenuously—I think it is +<span class="pagenum">74</span> +indeed a Love-letter. My Lady <i>Fancy</i>, what means all this? as I +take it, here are Riddles and Mysteries in this Business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Which thus, Sir, I’ll unfold.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Takes the Pen, and writes <em>Isabella</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How! undone—Your—<i>Isabella</i>, meaning my Daughter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Yes, my Dear, going this morning into her Chamber, she not being there, +I took up a Letter that lay open on her Table, and out of curiosity +read it; as near as I can remember ’twas to this purpose: I writ it +out now, because I had a mind thou shou’dst see’t; for I can hide +nothing from thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A very good Lady, I profess! to whom is it directed?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Why,—Sir—What shall I say, I cannot lay it now on +<i>Lodwick</i>— +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +I believe she meant it to Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, for whom else cou’d it be +design’d? she being so soon to marry him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah,—Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>! so soon so fond and amorous!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Alas, ’tis the excusable fault of all young Women, thou knowst I was +just such another Fool to thee, so fond—and so in love.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ha,—thou wert indeed, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, indeed thou +wert.—But I will keep the Letter however, that this idle Baggage +may know I understand her Tricks and Intrigues. +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts up the Letter.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Nay then ’twill out: No, I beseech you, Sir, give me the Letter, +I wou’d not for the World <i>Isabella</i> shou’d know of my theft, +’twou’d appear malicious in me:—Besides, Sir, it does not befit +your Gravity to be concern’d in the little Quarrels of Lovers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Lovers! Tell me not of Lovers, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>; with Reverence to +your good Ladyship, I value not whether there be Love between ’em +or not. Pious +<span class="pagenum">75</span> +Wedlock is my Business,—nay, I will let him know his own too, +that I will, with your Ladyship’s permission.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +How unlucky I am!—Sir, as to his Chastisement, use your own +discretion, in which you do abound most plentifully. But pray let not +<i>Isabella</i> hear of it; for as I wou’d preserve my Duty to thee, by +communicating all things to thee, so I wou’d conserve my good Opinion +with her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, what a Blessing I possess in so excellent a Wife! and in regard I am +every day descending to my Grave.—ah—I will no longer +hide from thee the Provision I have made for thee, in case I +die.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +This is the Musick that I long’d to hear.—Die!—Oh, that +fatal Word will kill me— +<span class="stagedir continue">Weeps.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Name it no more, if you’d preserve my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah—now cannot I refrain joining with her in affectionate +Tears.—No, but do not weep for me, my excellent Lady, for I have +made a pretty competent Estate for thee. Eight thousand Pounds, which I +have conceal’d in my Study behind the Wainscot on the left hand as you +come in.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, tell me not of transitory Wealth, for I’m resolv’d not to survive +thee. Eight thousand Pound say you?—Oh, I cannot endure the +thoughts on’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Eight thousand Pounds just, my dearest Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, you’ll make me desperate in naming it,—is it in Gold or +Silver?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +In Gold, my dearest, the most part, the rest in Silver.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Good Heavens! why should you take such pleasure in afflicting me? +<span class="aside">Weeps.</span> +—Behind the Wainscot say you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Behind the Wainscot, prithee be pacified,—thou makest me lose my +greatest Virtue, Moderation, to see thee thus: alas, we’re all born to +die.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Again of dying! Uncharitable Man, why do +<span class="pagenum">76</span> +you delight in tormenting me?—On the left hand, say you as you go +in?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +On the left hand, my Love: had ever Man such a Wife?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, my Spirits fail me—lead me, or I shall faint,—lead me to +the Study, and shew me where ’tis,—for I am able to hear no more +of it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I will, if you will promise indeed and indeed, not to grieve too much. +<span class="stagedir"> +Going to lead her out.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Heaven grant me some kind opportunity to speak with <i>Lucia</i>! hah, +she’s here,—and with her the fond Cuckold her +Husband.—Death, he has spy’d me, there’s no avoiding +him.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, are you there, Sir?—<i>Maundy</i>, look to my +Lady,—I take it, Sir, you have not dealt well with a Person +of my Authority and Gravity. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gropes for the Letter in his pocket.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +So this can be nothing less than my being found out to be no +<i>Yorkshire</i> Esq; a Pox of my <i>Geneva</i> Breeding; it must +be so, what the Devil shall I say now?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +And this disingenuous dealing does ill become the Person you have +represented, I take it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Represented! ay, there ’tis, wou’d I were handsomely off o’ this +Business; neither <i>Lucia</i> nor <i>Maundy</i> have any intelligence +in their demure looks that can instruct a Man.—Why, faith, +Sir,—I must confess,—I am to blame—and that +I have—a—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, <i>Maundy</i>, he’ll discover all, what shall we do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Have what, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +From my violent Passion for your Daughter—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, I’m all Confusion.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Egad, I am i’th wrong, I see by <i>Lucia’s</i> Looks.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +That you have, Sir, you wou’d say, made +<span class="pagenum">77</span> +a Sport and May-game of the Ingagement of your Word; I take +it, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, ’tis not like the Stock you <a class="notes" +name="patient_texttag34" id="patient_texttag34" href="#patient_textnote34">come</a> from.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Yes, I was like to have spoil’d all, ’sheart, what fine work I had +made—but most certainly he has discover’d my Passion for his +Wife.—Well, Impudence assist me—I made, Sir, +a trifle of my Word, Sir! from whom have you this Intelligence?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +From whom shou’d I, Sir, but from my Daughter <i>Isabella</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<i>Isabella!</i> The malicious Baggage understood to whom my first +Courtship was address’d last Night, and has betray’d me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +And, Sir, to let you see I utter nothing without Precaution, pray read +that Letter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Hah—a Letter! what can this mean,—’tis <i>Lucia’s</i> Hand, +with <i>Isabella’s</i> Name to’t.—Oh, the dear cunning Creature, +to make her Husband the Messenger too.—How, I send one in my +room! +<span class="stagedir"> +He reads.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Yes, Sir, you think we do not know of the Appointment you made last +Night; but having other Affairs in hand than to keep your Promise, you +sent Mr. <i>Knowell</i> in your room,—false Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +I send him, Madam! I wou’d have sooner died.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Sir, as I take it, he cou’d not have known of your Designs and +Rendezvous without your Informations.—Were not you to have met my +Daughter here to night, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Yes, Sir, and I hope ’tis no such great Crime, to desire a little +Conversation with the fair Person one loves, and is so soon to marry, +which I was hinder’d from doing by the greatest and most unlucky +Misfortune that ever arriv’d: <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag35" id="patient_texttag35" href="#patient_textnote35">but for my sending him, Madam, credit me</a>, +nothing so much amazes me and afflicts me, as to know he was here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +He speaks well, ingenuously, he does.—Well, Sir, for your Father’s +sake, whose Memory I reverence, +<span class="pagenum">78</span> +I will for once forgive you. But let’s have no more Night-works, no +more Gambols, I beseech you, good Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +I humbly thank ye, Sir, and do beseech you to tell the dear Creature +that writ this, that I love her more than Life or Fortune, and that I +wou’d sooner have kill’d the Man that usurp’d my place last Night, than +have assisted him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Were you not false, then?—Now hang me if I do not credit him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Alas, good Lady! how she’s concern’d for my Interest, she’s even jealous +for my Daughter. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +False! charge me not with unprofitable Sins; wou’d I refuse a Blessing, +or blaspheme a Power that might undo me? wou’d I die in my full vigorous +Health, or live in constant Pain? All this I cou’d, sooner than be +untrue.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ingenuously, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, he speaks discreetly, and to +purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Indeed, my Dear, he does, and like an honest Gentleman: and I shou’d +think my self very unreasonable not to believe him.—And, Sir, I’ll +undertake your Peace shall be made with your Mistress.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, I am the most fortunate Man in a Wife, that ever had the blessing +of a good one.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Madam, let me fall at your Feet, and thank you for this +Bounty.—Make it your own case, and then consider what returns +ought to be made to the most passionate and faithful of Lovers. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I profess a wonderful good natur’d Youth, this; rise, Sir, my Lady +<i>Fancy</i> shall do you all the kind Offices she can, o’ my word, she +shall.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I’m all Obedience, Sir, and doubtless shall obey you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +You must, indeed you must; and, Sir, I’ll defer your Happiness no +longer, this Day you shall be marry’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +This Day, Sir!—why, the Writings are not made.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">79</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +No matter, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>; her Portion shall be equivalent to the +Jointure you shall make her, I take it, that’s sufficient.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +A Jointure, quoth he! it must be in new <i>Eutopian</i> Land +then.—And must I depart thus, without a kind Word, a Look, or +a Billet, to signify what I am to expect. +<span class="stagedir"> +Looking on her slily.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Come, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, shall I wait on you down to Prayer! Sir, you +will get your self in order for your Marriage, the great Affair of human +Life; I must to my Morning’s Devotion: Come, Madam. +<span class="stagedir"> +She endeavours to make Signs to <em>Wittmore</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Alas, Sir, the <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag36" id="patient_texttag36" href="#patient_textnote36">sad</a> Discourse you +lately made me, has so disorder’d me, and given me such a Pain in my +Head, I am not able to endure the Psalm-singing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +This comes of your Weeping; but we’ll omit that part of <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag15" id="patient_commtag15" href="#patient_commnote15">th’ Exercise</a>, and have no Psalm sung.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, by no means, Sir, ’twill scandalize the Brethren; for you know a +Psalm is not sung so much out of Devotion, as ’tis to give notice of our +Zeal and pious Intentions: ’tis a kind of Proclamation to the +Neighbourhood, and cannot be omitted.—Oh, how my Head aches!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +He were a damn’d dull Lover, that cou’d not guess what she meant by +this. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>, your Ladyship shall be obey’d,—come, +Sir, we’ll leave her to her Women. +<span class="stagedir">Exit Sir <em>Pat.</em></span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +As <em>Wittmore</em> goes out, he bows and looks on her; she gives him a +Sign.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That kind Look is a sufficient Invitation. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag37" id="patient_texttag37" +href="#patient_textnote37">Exit.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +<i>Maundy</i>, follow ’em down, and bring <i>Wittmore</i> back +again.— +<span class="aside">Exit <em>Maun.</em></span> +There’s now a necessity of our contriving to avoid this Marriage +handsomly,—and we shall at least make two Hours our own; +I never wish’d well to long Prayers till this Minute.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">80</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Oh my dear <i>Lucia</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh <i>Wittmore</i>! I long to tell thee what a fatal Mistake had like to +have happened last Night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +My Friend has told me all, and how he was prevented by the coming of +your Husband from robbing me of those sacred Delights I languish for. +Oh, let us not lose inestimable Time in dull talking; but haste to give +each other the only Confirmation we can give, how little we are our +own.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I see <i>Lodwick’s</i> a Man of Honour, and deserves a Heart if I had +one to give him.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIV_sceneIII" id="patient_actIV_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +A Hall.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em> and <em>Roger</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<i>Roger</i>, is Prayer ready, <i>Roger</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Truly nay, Sir, for Mr. <i>Gogle</i> has taken too much of the Creature +this Morning, and is not in case, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How mean you, Sirrah, that Mr. <i>Gogle</i> is overtaken with Drink?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Nay, Sir, he hath over-eaten himself at Breakfast only.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Alas, and that’s soon done, for he hath a sickly Stomach as well as I, +poor Man. Where is <i>Bartholomew</i> the Clerk? he must hold forth then +to day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Verily he is also disabled: for going forth last Night by your +Commandment to smite the Wicked, he received a blow over the +<i>Pericranium</i>.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, how now, Sirrah, Latin! the Language of the Beast! hah—and +what then, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Which Blow, I doubt, Sir, hath spoil’d both his Praying and his +Eating.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah! What a Family’s here? no Prayer to day!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Nurse</em> and <em>Fanny</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Nurs.</span> +Nay verily it shall all out, I will be no more the dark Lanthorn to +the deeds of Darkness.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">81</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What’s the matter here? +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag38" id="patient_texttag38" +href="#patient_textnote38">Exit <em>Roger</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Nurs.</span> +Sir, this young Sinner has long been privy to all the daily and nightly +meetings between Mr. <i>Lodwick</i> and <i>Isabella</i>; and just now I +took her tying a Letter to a String in the Garden, which he drew up to +his Window: and I have born it till my Conscience will bear it no +longer.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, so young a Baud!—Tell me, Minion—private meeting! tell +me truth, I charge ye, when? where? how? and how often? Oh, she’s +debauch’d!—her Reputation ruin’d, and she’ll need a double +Portion. Come, tell me truth, for this <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag39" id="patient_texttag39" href="#patient_textnote39">little</a> Finger here has told me all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Oh Geminy, Sir, then that little Finger’s the hougesest great Lyer as +ever was.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Huzzy, huzzy—I will have thee whip’d most unmercifully: Nurse, +fetch me the Rod.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Oh, pardon me, Sir, this one time, and I’ll tell all. +<span class="stagedir continue">Kneels.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Sir—I have seen him in the Garden, but not very often.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Often! Oh, my Family’s dishonoured. Tell me truly what he us’d to do +there, or I will have thee whipt without cessation. Oh, I’m in a cold +Sweat; there’s my fine Maid, was he with her long?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Long enough.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Long enough!—oh, ’tis so, long enough,—for what, hah? my +dainty Miss, tell me, and didst thou leave ’em?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +They us’d to send me to gather Flowers to make Nosegays, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, Demonstration; ’tis evident if they were left alone that they were +naught, I know’t.—And where were they the while? in the close +Arbour?—Ay, ay—I will have it cut down, it is the +Pent-house of Iniquity, the very Coverlid of Sin.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +No, Sir, they sat on the Primrose Bank.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What, did they sit all the while, or +stand—or—lie—or—oh, how was’t?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">82</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +They only sat indeed, Sir Father.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +And thou didst not hear a Word they said all the while?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Yes, I did, Sir, and the Man talk’d a great deal of this, and of that, +and of t’other, and all the while threw Jessamine in her Bosom.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well said, and did he nothing else?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +No, indeed, Sir Father, nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +But what did she say to the Man again?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +She said, let me see.—Ay, she said, Lord, you’ll forget your self, +and stay till somebody catch us.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, very fine,—then what said he?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Then he said, Well if I must be gone, let me leave thee with this hearty +Curse, A Pox take thee all over for making me love thee so +confoundedly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh horrible!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +—Oh, I cou’d live here for ever,—that was when he kist +her—her Hand only. Are you not a damn’d Woman for making so fond a +Puppy of me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh unheard-of Wickedness!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Wou’d the Devil had thee, and all thy Family, e’er I had seen thy cursed +Face.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, I’ll hear no more, I’ll hear no more!—why, what a blasphemous +Wretch is this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Pray, Sir Father, do not tell my Sister of this, she’ll be horribly +angry with me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +No, no, get you gone.—Oh, I am Heart-sick—I’ll up and +consult with my Lady what’s fit to be done in this Affair. Oh, never was +the like heard of.—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Goes out, <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag40" id="patient_texttag40" href="#patient_textnote40"><em>Fanny</em> and +<em>Nurse</em> go</a> the other way.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actIV_sceneIV" id="patient_actIV_sceneIV"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag41" id="patient_texttag41" +href="#patient_textnote41"><span class="smallcaps">Scene +IV.</span></a> +The Lady <em>Fancy’s</em> Bed-Chamber; she’s discover’d with +<em>Wittmore</em> in disorder. A Table, Sword, and Hat.</h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +<span class="aside"><a class="notes" name="patient_texttag42" id="patient_texttag42" href="#patient_textnote42">Entering.</a></span> +O Madam, Sir <i>Patient’s</i> coming up.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Coming up, say you!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +He’s almost on the top of the Stairs, Madam.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">83</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +What shall I do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, damn him, I know not; if he see thee here after my pretended +Illness, he must needs discover why I feign’d.—I have no +excuse ready,—this Chamber’s unlucky, there’s no avoiding him; +here—step behind the Bed; perhaps he has only forgot his +Psalm-Book and will not stay long. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Wittmore</em> runs behind the Bed.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, oh, pardon this Interruption, my Lady <i>Fancy</i>—Oh, +I am half killed, my Daughter, my Honour—my Daughter, my +Reputation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Good Heavens, Sir, is she dead?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I wou’d she were, her Portion and her Honour would then be sav’d. But +oh, I’m sick at Heart, <i>Maundy</i>, fetch me the Bottle of <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag16" id="patient_commtag16" href="#patient_commnote16"><i>Mirabilis</i></a> in the Closet,—she’s +wanton, unchaste.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em> with the Bottle.</p> + +<p>Oh, I cannot speak it; oh, the Bottle— +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +she has lost her Fame, her Shame, her Name.—Oh, +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +that is not the right Bottle, that with the red Cork +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Exit <em>Maundy</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +and is grown a very t’other-end-of-the-Town Creature, a very Apple +of <i>Sodom</i>, fair without and filthy within, what shall we do with +her? she’s lost, undone; hah!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + +<p>let me see, +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +this is +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +not as I take it— +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +—no, ’tis not the right,—she’s naught, she’s leud, +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +—oh, how you vex me— +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +This is not the right Bottle yet,— +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +No, no, here. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives her the Bottle.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +You said that with the red Cork, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I meant the blue;—I know not what I say.— In fine, my Lady, +let’s marry her out of hand, for she is fall’n, fall’n to Perdition; she +understands more Wickedness than had she been bred in a profane Nunnery, +a Court,</p> + +<span class="pagenum">84</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + +<p>or a Play-house, +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +—therefore let’s marry her instantly, out of hand +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +Misfortune on Misfortune. +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +—But Patience is a wonderful Virtue, +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +—Ha—this is very comfortable,—very +consoling—I profess if it were not for these Creatures, +ravishing Comforts, sometimes, a Man were a very odd sort of an +Animal +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +But ah—see how all things were ordain’d for the use and comfort of +Man<ins class="correction" title=". missing">. </ins> +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I like this well: Ah, Sir, ’tis very true, therefore receive it +plentifully and thankfully.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +Ingenuously—it hath made me marvellous lightsome; I profess +it hath a very notable Faculty,—very knavish—and as it were, +waggish,—but hah, what have we there on the Table? a Sword +and Hat? +<span class="stagedir"> +Sees <em>Wittmore’s</em> Sword and Hat on the Table, which he had +forgot.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Curse on my Dulness.—Oh, these, Sir, they are Mr. +<i>Fainlove’s</i>—he being so soon to be marry’d and being +straitned for time, sent these to <i>Maundy</i> to be new trim’d with +Ribbon, Sir—that’s all. Take ’em away, you naughty Baggage, must I +have Mens things seen in my Chamber?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Nay, nay, be not angry, my little Rogue; I like the young Man’s +Frugality well. Go, go your ways, get you gone, and finefy your Knacks +and <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag17" id="patient_commtag17" href="#patient_commnote17">Tranghams</a>, and do +your Business—go.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Smiling on <em>Maundy</em>, gently beating her with his Hand: she goes +out, he bolts the Door after her, and sits down on the Bed’s feet.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Heavens, what means he!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Come hither to me, my little Ape’s Face,—Come, come I +say—what, must I come fetch you?—Catch her, catch +her—catch her, catch her, catch her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Running after her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, Sir, I am so ill I can hardly stir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">85</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I’ll make ye well, come hither, ye Monky-face, did it, did it, did it? +alas for it, a poor silly Fool’s Face, dive it a blow, and I’ll +beat it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +You neglect your Devotion, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +No, no, no Prayer to day, my little Rascal,—no Prayer to +day—poor <i>Gogle’s</i> sick.—Come hither, why, you +refractory Baggage you, come or I shall touze you, ingenuously I shall; +tom, tom, or I’ll whip it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Have you forgot your Daughter, Sir, and your Disgrace?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A fiddle on my Daughter, she’s a Chick of the old Cock I profess; +I was just such another Wag when young.—But she shall be +marry’d to morrow, a good Cloke for her Knavery; therefore come +your ways, ye Wag, we’ll take a nap together: good faith, my little +Harlot, I mean thee no harm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +No, o’ my Conscience.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why then, why then, you little Mungrel?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +His precise Worship is as it were disguis’d, the outward Man is +over-taken—pray, Sir, lie down, and I’ll come to you +presently.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Away, you Wag, will you? will you?—Catch her there, catch her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I will indeed,—Death, there’s no getting from him,—pray lie +down—and I’ll cover thee close enough I’ll warrant thee.— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Aside.</span> +<span class="stagedir continue">He lies down, she covers +him.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Had ever Lovers such spiteful luck! hah—surely he sleeps, bless +the mistaken Bottle.—Ay, he sleeps,—whilst, +<i>Wittmore</i>—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +He coming out falls; pulls the Chair down, Sir <em>Patient</em> flings +open the Curtain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Plague of my over-care, what shall I do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What’s that, what Noise is that? let me see, we are not safe; lock up +the Doors, what’s the matter? What Thunder-Clap was that?</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Wittmore</em> runs under the Bed; she runs to Sir <em>Patient</em>, +and holds him in his Bed.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">86</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Pray, Sir, lie still, ’twas I was only going to sit down, and a sudden +Giddiness took me in my Head, which made me fall, and with me the Chair; +there is no danger near ye, Sir—I was just coming to sleep by +you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Go, you’re a flattering Huswife; go, catch her, catch her, catch her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Lies down, she covers him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, how I tremble at the dismal apprehension of being discover’d! Had I +secur’d my self of the eight thousand Pound, I wou’d not value +<i>Wittmore’s</i> being seen. But now to be found out, wou’d call my Wit +in question, for ’tis the Fortunate alone are wise.—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Wittmore</em> peeps from under the Bed; she goes softly to the Door +to open it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Was ever Man so plagu’d?—hah—what’s this?—confound my +tell-tale Watch, the Larum goes, and there’s no getting to’t to silence +it.—Damn’d Misfortune! +<span class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Patient</em> rises, and flings open the Curtains.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, what’s that?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Heavens! what’s the matter? we are destin’d to discovery. +<span class="stagedir"> +She runs to Sir <em>Patient</em>, and leaves the Door still +fast.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What’s that I say, what’s that? let me see, let me see, what ringing’s +that, Oh, let me see what ’tis. +<span class="stagedir"> +Strives to get up, she holds him down.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, now I see my Fate’s inevitable! Alas, that ever I was born to see’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Death, she’ll tell him I am here: Nay, he must know’t, a Pox of all +Invention and Mechanicks, and he were damn’d that first contriv’d a +Watch.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, dost weep?—why dost weep? I say, what Noise is that? +what ringing? hah.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +’Tis that, ’tis that, my Dear, that makes me weep. Alas, I never +hear this fatal Noise, but some dear Friend dies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, dies! Oh, that must be I, ay, ay, Oh.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +I’ve heard it, Sir, this two Days, but wou’d not tell you of it.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">87</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah! heard it these two Days! Oh, what is’t a +Death-watch?—hah.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Ay, Sir, a Death-watch, a certain Larum Death-watch, a thing +that has warn’d our Family this hundred Years, oh,—I’m the most +undone Woman!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +A Blessing on her for a dear dissembling Jilt—Death and the Devil, +will it never cease?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A Death-watch! ah, ’tis so, I’ve often heard of these +things—methinks it sounds as if ’twere under the Bed.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to look, she holds him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +You think so, Sir, but that ’tis about the Bed is my Grief; it therefore +threatens you: Oh wretched Woman!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ay, ay, I’m too happy in a Wife to live long: Well, I will settle +my House at <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag43" id="patient_texttag43" href="#patient_textnote43"><i>Hogsdowne</i></a>, +with the Land about it, which is 500<i>l.</i> a Year upon thee, live or +die,—do not grieve.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Lays himself down.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, I never had more Cause; come try to sleep, your Fate may be +diverted—whilst I’ll to Prayers for your dear Health.— +<span class="aside">Covers him, draws the Curtains.</span> +I have almost run out all my stock of Hypocrisy, and that hated Art +now fails me.—Oh all ye Powers that favour distrest Lovers, assist +us now, and I’ll provide against your future Malice. +<span class="stagedir"> +She makes Signs to <em>Wittmore</em>, he peeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +I’m impatient of Freedom, yet so much Happiness as I but now injoy’d +without this part of Suffering had made me too blest.—Death and +Damnation! what curst luck have I?</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Makes Signs to her to open the Door: whilst he creeps softly from under +the Bed to the Table, by which going to raise himself, he pulls down all +the Dressing-things: at the same instant Sir <em>Patient</em> leaps from +the Bed, and she returns from the Door, and sits on <em>Wittmore’s</em> +Back as he lies on his Hands and Knees, and makes as if she swooned.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What’s the matter? what’s the matter? has +<span class="pagenum">88</span> +Satan broke his everlasting Chain, and got loose abroad to plague poor +Mortals? hah—what’s the matter? +<span class="stagedir"> +Runs to his Lady.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, help, I die—I faint—run down, and call for +help.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +My Lady dying? oh, she’s gone, she faints,—what ho, who waits? +<span class="stagedir"> +Cries and bauls.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, go down and bring me help, the Door is lock’d,—they cannot +hear ye,—oh—I go—I& die.— +<span class="stagedir"> +He opens the Door, and calls help, help.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Damn him! there’s no escaping without I kill the Dog. +<span class="stagedir"> +From under her, peeping.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Lie still, or we are undone.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Sir <em>Patient</em> returns with <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Hah, discover’d!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Help, help, my Lady dies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Oh, I perceive how’tis.—Alas, she’s dead, quite gone; oh, rub her +Temples, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, I’m undone then,— +<span class="aside">Weeps.</span> +Oh my Dear, my virtuous Lady!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Oh, where’s my Husband, my dearest Husband—Oh, bring him near +me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I’m here, my excellent Lady.—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +She takes him about the Neck, and raises her self up, gives +<em>Wittmore</em> a little kick behind.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Oh the dear lovely Hypocrite, was ever Man so near discovery?— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, how hard she presses my Head to her Bosom!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Ah, that grasping hard, Sir, is a very bad Sign.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><ins class="correction" title="printed in roman (non-italic)">Sir Pat.</ins></span> +How does my good, my dearest Lady <i>Fancy</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Something better now, give me more Air,—that dismal Larum +Death-watch had almost kill’d me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah precious Creature, how she afflicts her self for me.—Come, +let’s walk into the Dining-room, ’tis +<span class="pagenum">89</span> +more airy, from thence into my Study, and make thy self Mistress of that +Fortune I have design’d thee, thou best of Women.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt, <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag44" id="patient_texttag44" href="#patient_textnote44">leading her</a>.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="patient_actV" id="patient_actV"> +ACT V.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="patient_actV_sceneI" id="patient_actV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag45" id="patient_texttag45" +href="#patient_textnote45">A Room in Sir <em>Patient Fancy’s</em> +House.</a> A Table, and six Chairs.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em> reading a Letter, <em>Betty</em> tricking +her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +How came you by this Letter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bet.</span> +Miss <i>Fanny</i> receiv’d it by a String from his Window, by which he +took up that you writ to him this Morning.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +What means this nicety? forbear I say.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts <em>Betty</em> from her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bet.</span> +You cannot be too fine upon your Wedding-day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Thou art mistaken, leave me,—whatever he says here to satisfy my +Jealousy, I am confirm’d that he was false: yet this assurance to +free me from this intended Marriage, makes me resolve to pardon him, +however guilty.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p>How now! what means this Insolence? How dare you, having so lately +made your guilty approaches, venture again into my presence?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Why? Is there any danger, but what’s so visible in those fair Eyes?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And there may lie enough, Sir, when they’re angry. By what Authority do +you make this saucy Visit?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That of a Husband, Madam; I <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag46" id="patient_texttag46" href="#patient_textnote46">come</a> to congratulate the mighty Joy this Day +will bring you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Thou darst not marry me, there will be danger in’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Why, sure you do not carry Death in your Embraces, I find no Terror +in that lovely Shape, no Daggers in that pretty scornful Look; that +Breath that utters so +<span class="pagenum">90</span> +much Anger now, last night was sweet as new-blown Roses are,—and +spoke such Words, so tender and so kind.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And canst thou think they were address’d to thee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +No, nor cou’d the Shade of Night hide the Confusion which disorder’d +you, at the discovery that I was not he, the blessed he you look’d +for.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Leave me, thou hated Object of my Soul.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +This will not serve your turn, for I must marry you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Then thou art a Fool, and drawest thy Ruin on; why, I will hate +thee,—hate thee most extremely.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +That will not anger me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Why, I will never let thee touch me, nor kiss my Hand, nor come into my +sight.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Are there no other Women kind, fair, and to be purchas’d? he cannot +starve for Beauty in this Age, that has a stock to buy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Why, I will cuckold thee, look to’t, I will most damnably.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +So wou’d you, had you lov’d me, in a year or two; therefore like a kind +civil Husband, I’ve made provision for you, a Friend, and one I +dare trust my Honour with,—’tis Mr. <i>Knowell</i>, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Lodwick!</i> What Devil brought that Name to his +knowledge?—Canst thou know him, and yet dare hope to marry me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +We have agreed it, and on these conditions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Thou basely injurest him, he cannot do a Deed he ought to blush for: +<i>Lodwick</i> do this! Oh, do not credit it,—prithee be just and +kind for thy own Honour’s sake; be quickly so, the hasty minutes fly, +and will anon make up the fatal Hour that will undo me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +’Tis true, within an hour you must submit to <i>Hymen</i>, there’s no +avoiding it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Nay, then be gone, my poor submissive Prayers, and all that dull +Obedience Custom has made us Slaves to.—Do sacrifice me, lead me +to the Altar, and see if +<span class="pagenum">91</span> +all the holy mystick Words can conjure from me the consenting Syllable: +No, I will not add one word to make the Charm complete, but stand +as silent in the inchanting Circle, as if the Priests were raising +Devils there.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Enough, enough, my charming <i>Isabella</i>, I am confirm’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Lodwick!</i> what good Angel conducted thee hither?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +E’en honest <i>Charles Wittmore</i> here, thy Friend and mine, no +Bug-bear Lover he.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Wittmore!</i> that Friend I’ve often heard thee name? Now some kind +mischief on him, he has so frighted me, I scarce can bring my Sense +to so much order, to thank him that he loves me not.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Thou shalt defer that payment to more leisure; we’re Men of business +now. My Mother, knowing of a Consultation of Physicians which your +Father has this day appointed to meet at his House, has bribed Monsieur +<i>Turboone</i> his <i>French</i> Doctor in Pension, to admit of a +Doctor or two of her recommending, who shall amuse him with discourse +till we get ourselves married; and to make it the more ridiculous, +I will release Sir <i>Credulous</i> from the Basket, I saw it +in the Hall as I came through, we shall have need of the Fool.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>, pulling in the Basket.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +’Twill do well.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sir <i>Credulous</i>, how is’t, Man? +<span class="stagedir"> +Opens the Basket.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What, am I not at the Carrier’s yet?—Oh <i>Lodwick</i>, thy Hand, +I’m almost poison’d—This Basket wants airing extremely, it smells +like an old Lady’s Wedding Gown of my acquaintance.—But what’s the +danger past, Man?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +No, but there’s a necessity of your being for some time disguis’d to act +a Physician.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">92</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How! a Physician! that I can easily do, for I understand Simples.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +That’s not material, so you can but banter well, be very grave, and put +on a starch’d Countenance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Banter! what’s that, Man?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Why, Sir, talking very much, and meaning just nothing; be full of Words +without any connection, sense or conclusion. Come in with me, and I’ll +instruct you farther.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Pshaw, is that all? say no more on’t, I’ll do’t, let me alone for +Bantering—But this same damn’d Rival—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +He’s now watching for you without and means <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag18" id="patient_commtag18" href="#patient_commnote18">to souse</a> upon you; but trust to me for your +security; come away, I have your Habit ready. +<span class="aside">Goes out.</span> +—This day shall make thee mine, dear <i>Isabella</i>.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Lodwick</em> and <em>Wittmore</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em>, <em>Leander</em>, and <em>Roger</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Marry <i>Lucretia</i>! is there no Woman in the City fit for you, but +the Daughter of the most notorious fantastical Lady within the +Walls?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Yet that fantastical Lady you thought fit for a Wife for me, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Yes, Sir, Foppery with Money had been something; but a poor Fop, hang’t, +’tis abominable.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Pray hear me, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Sirrah, Sirrah, you’re a Jackanapes, ingenuously you are, Sir: marry +<i>Lucretia</i>, quoth he?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +If it were so, Sir, where’s her fault?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, Mr. Coxcomb, all over. Did I with so much care endeavour to marry +thee to the Mother, only to give thee opportunity with +<i>Lucretia</i>?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Knowell</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +This Anger shews your great Concern for me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +For my Name I am, but ’twere no matter if thou wert hang’d, and thou +deservest it for thy leud +<span class="pagenum">93</span> +cavaliering Opinion.—They say thou art a Papist too, or at least a +Church-of-<i>England</i> Man, and I profess there’s not a Pin to +chuse.—Marry <i>Lucretia</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Were I querimonious, I shou’d resent the Affront <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag19" id="patient_commtag19" href="#patient_commnote19">this <i>Balatroon</i></a> has offer’d me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Dear Madam, for my sake do not anger him now. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Upon my Honour, you are very free with my Daughter, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How! she here! now for a Peal from her eternal Clapper; I had +rather be confin’d to an Iron-mill.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Sure <i>Lucretia</i> merits a Husband of as much worth as your Nephew, +Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A better, Madam, for he’s the leudest Hector in the Town; he has all the +Vices of Youth, Whoring, Swearing, Drinking, Damning, +Fighting,—and a thousand more, numberless and nameless.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Time, Sir, may make him more abstemious.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, never, Madam! ’tis in’s Nature, he was born with it, he’s given over +to Reprobation, ’tis bred i’th’ bone,—he’s lost.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +This is the first good Office that ever he did me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +What think you, Sir, if in defiance of your Inurbanity, I take him +with all these Faults my self?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How, Madam!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Without more Ambages, Sir, I have consider’d your former Desires, +and have consented to marry him, notwithstanding your Exprobrations.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +May I believe this, Madam? and has your Ladyship that +Goodness?—and hast thou, my Boy, so much Wit? Why, this is +something now.—Well, he was ever the best and sweetest-natur’d +Youth.—Why, what a notable Wag’s this? and is it true, my Boy, +hah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Yes, Sir, I had told you so before, had you permitted me to speak.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, Madam, he is only fit for your excellent +<span class="pagenum">94</span> +Ladyship, he is the prettiest civillest Lad.—Well, go thy ways; +I shall never see the like of thee; no—Ingenuously, the Boy’s +made for ever; two thousand Pounds a Year, besides Money, Plate and +Jewels; made for ever.—Well, Madam, the satisfaction I take in +this Alliance, has made me resolve to give him immediately my Writings +of all my Land in <i>Berkshire</i>, five hundred Pounds a year, Madam: +and I wou’d have you married this Morning with my Daughter, so one +Dinner and one Rejoicing will serve both.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +That, Sir, we have already agreed upon.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, I’ll fetch the Writings. Come, <i>Isabella</i>, I’ll not trust you +out of my sight to day. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. Sir <em>Pat.</em> and <em>Isab.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Well then, Madam, you are resolv’d upon this business of Matrimony.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Was it not concluded between us, Sir, this Morning? and at the near +approach do you begin to fear?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Nothing, Madam, since I’m convinc’d of your Goodness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +You flatter, Sir, this is mere Adulation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +No, I am that wild Extravagant my Uncle render’d me, and cannot live +confin’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +To one Woman you mean? I shall not stand with you for a Mistress or two; +I hate a dull morose unfashionable Blockhead to my Husband; nor +shall I be the first example of a suffering Wife, Sir. Women were +created poor obedient things.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +And can you be content to spare me five or six nights in a week?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, you’re too reasonable.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +And for the rest, if I get drunk, perhaps I’ll give to you: yet in my +drink I’m damn’d ill-natur’d too, and may neglect my Duty; perhaps shall +be so wicked, to call you cunning, deceitful, jilting, base, and swear +you have undone me, swear you have ravish’d from my faithful Heart all +that cou’d make it bless’d or happy.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">95</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lucretia</em> weeping.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +How now, <i>Lucretia</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Oh Madam, give me leave to kneel before, and tell you, if you pursue the +Cruelty I hear you’re going to commit, I am the most lost, most +wretched Maid that breathes; we two have plighted Faiths, and shou’d you +marry him, ’twere so to sin as Heaven would never pardon.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Rise, Fool.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +Never till you have given me back <i>Leander</i>, or leave to live no +more.—Pray kill me, Madam; and the same Flowers that deck your +nuptial Bed,</p> +<div class="verse"> +<p>Shall serve to strow my Herse, when I shall lie</p> +<p>A dead cold Witness of your Tyranny.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Rise; I still design’d him yours.—I saw with pleasure, Sir, +your reclination from my Addresses.—I have proved both your +Passions, and ’twere unkind not to crown ’em with the due Præmium of +each others Merits. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives her to <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Can Heaven and you agree to be so bountiful?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Be not amaz’d at this turn, <i><a class="comm" name="patient_commtag20" id="patient_commtag20" href="#patient_commnote20">Rotat omne</a> <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag47" id="patient_texttag47" href="#patient_textnote47">fatum</a></i>.—But no more,—keep still +that mask of Love we first put on, till you have gain’d the Writings: +for I have no Joy beyond cheating that filthy Uncle of +thine.—<i>Lucretia</i>, wipe your Eyes, and prepare for +<i>Hymen</i>, the Hour draws near. <i>Thalessio</i>, <i>Thalessio</i>, +as the <i>Romans</i> cry’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lucr.</span> +May you still be admir’d as you deserve!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em> with Writings, and <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How, Madam <i>Lucretia</i>, and in Tears?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +A little disgusted, Sir, with her Father-in-law, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, is that all? hold up thy Head, Sweet-heart, thy turn’s +next.—Here, Madam, I surrender my Title, with these Writings, +and with ’em my Joy, my Life, my Darling, my <i>Leander</i>.—Now +let’s away, where’s Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">96</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +He’s but stept into <i>Cheapside</i>, to fit the Ring, Sir, <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag48" id="patient_texttag48" href="#patient_textnote48">and will</a> be here immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I have Business anon about eleven of the Clock, a Consultation of +Physicians, to confer about this Carcase of mine.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Physicians, Sir, what to do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +To do! why, to take their advice, Sir, and to follow it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +For what, I beseech you, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, Sir, for my Health.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I believe you are not sick, Sir, unless they make you so.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +They make me so!—Do you hear him, Madam—Am not I sick, Sir? +not I, Sir <i>Patient Fancy</i>, sick?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +He’ll destroy my Design.—How, Mr. <i>Fancy</i>, not Sir +<i>Patient</i> sick? or must he be incinerated before you’ll credit +it?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ay, Madam, I want but dying to undeceive him, and yet I am not sick!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Sir, I love your Life, and wou’d not have you die with Fancy and +Conceit.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Fancy and Conceit! do but observe him, Madam,—what do you mean, +Sir, by Fancy and Conceit?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +He’ll ruin all;—why, Sir,—he means—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Nay, let him alone, let him alone, (with your Ladyship’s +pardon)—Come, Sir,—Fancy and Conceit, I take it, was +the Question in debate.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I cannot prove this to you, Sir, by force of Argument, but by +Demonstration I will, if you will banish all your cozening Quacks, and +take my wholesome Advice.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Do but hear him, Madam: not prove it!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Sir, he means nothing.—Not sick! alas, Sir, you’re very sick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ay, ay, your Ladyship is a Lady of profound Knowledge.—Why, have I +not had the advice of all the Doctors in <i>England</i>, and have I not +been in continual +<span class="pagenum">97</span> +Physick this twenty Years:—and yet I am not sick! Ask my dear +Lady, Sir, how sick I am, she can inform you. +<span class="stagedir"> +L. <em>Kno.</em> goes and talks to <em>Isab.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +She does her endeavour, Sir, to keep up the Humour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +She wishes you dead, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What said the Rascal? wishes me dead!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Sir, she hates you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How! hate me! what, my Lady hate me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +She abuses your Love, plays tricks with ye, and cheats ye, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Was ever so profane a Wretch! What, you will not prove this neither?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Yes, by demonstration too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, thou saucy Varlet, Sirrah, Sirrah, thank my Lady here I do not +cudgel thee.—Well, I will settle the rest of my Estate upon +her to morrow, I will, Sir; and thank God you have what you have, +Sir, make much on’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Pardon me, Sir, ’tis not my single Opinion, but the whole City takes +notice on’t: that I tell it you, Sir, is the Effect of my Duty, not +Interest. Pray give me leave to prove this to you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What, you are at your Demonstration again?—come—let’s +hear.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Why, Sir, give her frequent opportunities,—and then surprize +her;—or, by pretending to settle all upon her,—give her your +Power, and see if she do not turn you out of Doors;—or—by +feigning you are sick to death—or indeed by dying.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I thank you, Sir,—this indeed is Demonstration, I take it. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls off his Hat.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I mean but feigning, Sir; and be a witness your self of her Sorrow, or +Contempt.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<span class="aside">Pauses.</span> +Hah—hum,—why, ingenuously, this may be a very pretty +Project.—Well, Sir, suppose I follow +<span class="pagenum">98</span> +your advice?—nay, I profess I will do so, not to try her +Faith, but to have the pleasure to hear her conjugal Lamentations, feel +her Tears bedew my Face, and her sweet Mouth kissing my Cheeks a +thousand times; verily a wonderful Comfort.—And then, Sir, what +becomes of your Demonstration?—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em> with the Ring.</p> + +<p>Oh—Mr. <i>Fainlove</i>, come, come, you’re tardy, let’s away to +Church.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Roger</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Sir, here is Doctor <i>Turboon</i>, and those other Doctors your Worship +expected.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Fancy</em> <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag49" +id="patient_texttag49" href="#patient_textnote49">and +<em>Bartholomew</em></a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +The Doctors already!—well, bring ’em up; come, Madam, we have +waited for your Ladyship,—bring up the Doctors, <i>Roger</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag50" id="patient_texttag50" +href="#patient_textnote50">Exit <em>Roger</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +<i>Wittmore</i>, I have now brought that design to a happy Conclusion, +for which I married this formal Ass; I’ll tell thee more anon,—we +are observ’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, <i>Lodwick’s</i> come!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em>, Monsieur <em>Turboon</em>, Fat Doctor, +<em>Amsterdam</em>, <em>Leyden</em>, Sir <em>Credulous</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Doctor <i>Turboon</i>, your Servant, I expected you not this two +hours.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Nor had ee com, Sir, bot for dese wordy Gentlemen, whos Affairs wode not +permit dem to come at your hoar.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Are they English pray?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Dis is, Sir,— +<span class="aside">Pointing to <em>Lod.</em></span> +an admirable Physician, and a rare Astrologer.—Dis speaks good +<i>English</i>, bot a <i>Collender</i> born. +<span class="stagedir"> +Points to Sir <em>Cred.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +What a pox, does the Fellow call me a Cullender?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +He means a <i>High-Dutch-man</i> of the Town of <i>Collen</i>, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">99</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Sir, I have heard of your Fame.—Doctor, pray entertain these +Gentlemen till my return, I’ll be with you presently.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sir, I hope you go not forth to day. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gazing on his Face.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Not far, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +There is a certain Star has rul’d this two days, Sir, of a very +malignant Influence to Persons of your Complection and +Constitution.—Let me see—within this two hours and six +minutes, its Malice will be spent, till then it will be fatal.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hum, reign’d this two Days?—I profess and things have gone +very cross with me this two Days,—a notable Man this.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Oh, a very profound Astrologer, Sir, upon my Honour, I know +him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +But this is an Affair of that Importance, Sir,—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +If it be more than Health or Life, I beg your pardon, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Nay, no Offence, Sir, I beseech you, I’ll stay, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +How! Sir <i>Patient</i> not see us married?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +You shall excuse me, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +This was lucky; Oh Madam, wou’d you have my Dear venture out, when a +malignant Star reigns! not for the World.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +No, I’ll not stir; had it been any Star but a malignant Star, I had +waited on your Ladyship: but these malignant Stars are very pernicious +Stars. Nephew, take my Lady <i>Knowell</i>, Mr. <i>Fainlove</i> my +Daughter; and <i>Bartholomew</i> do you conduct my Lady, the Parson +stays for you, and the Coaches are at the Door.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt L. <em>Kno.</em> <em>Lean.</em> <em>Wit.</em> and <em>Isab.</em> +L. <em>Fancy</em> and <em>Bartholomew</em>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Boy</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +Sir, my Lady has sent for you. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag51" id="patient_texttag51" +href="#patient_textnote51">Exit.</a></span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">100</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Sir, I’ll be with you presently; Sir <i>Credulous</i>, be sure you lug +him by the Ears with any sort of Stuff till my return. I’ll send you a +Friend to keep you in countenance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Please you to sit, Gentlemen? +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag52" id="patient_texttag52" +href="#patient_textnote52">Exit <em>Lod.</em></a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Please you, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +To Sir <em>Cred.</em> who bows and runs back.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh Lord, sweet Sir, I hope you do not take me—Nay, I beseech +you, Noble Sir—Reverend Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Turning from one to t’other.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +By no means, Sir, a Stranger.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I beseech you—<i>Scavantissimi Doctores</i>,—incomparable +Sir,—and you—or you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +In troth, Sir, these Compliments are needless, I am something corpulent, +and love my ease. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sits.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Generous Sir, you say well; therefore <i>Conlicentia</i>, as the +<i>Grecians</i> have it. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sits.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +—Brother.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Nay, good Brother,—Sir <i>Patient</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ingenuously, not before you, Mr. Doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Excuse me, Sir, an Alderman, and a Knight.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Both below the least of the learned Society.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Since you will have it so. +<span class="stagedir"> +All sit and cry hum,—and look gravely.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Hum—hum, most Worthy, and most Renowned—<i><a class="comm" +name="patient_commtag21" id="patient_commtag21" href="#patient_commnote21">Medicinæ Professores</a>, qui hic assemblati +estis, & vos altri Messiores</i>; I am now going to make a +Motion for the publick Good of us all, but will do nothing without your +Doctorships Approbation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Judiciously concluded.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +The question then is, <i>Reverentissimi Doctores</i>, whether—for +mark me, I come to the matter in hand, hating long Circumstances of +Words; there being no necessity, as our learned Brother <i>Rabelais</i> +observes in that most notorious Treatise of his call’d +<i>Garagantua</i>; there is, says he, no necessity of going over the +Hedge when the Path lies fair before ye: therefore, as I said before, +<span class="pagenum">101</span> +I now say again, coming to my Question; for as that admirable +<i>Welch</i> Divine says, in that so famous Sermon of his, upon her +Creat Cranfather <i>Hadam</i> and her Creat Cranmother <i>Heeve</i> +concerning the Happell,—and her will, warrant her, her will keep +her to her Text still,—so I stick close to my question, which is, +<i>Illustrissimi Doctores</i>, whether it be not necessary to the Affair +in hand—to take—a Bottle; and if your Doctorships are +of my opinion—hold up your Thumbs. +<span class="stagedir continue">All hold up their Thumbs.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Look, Sir, you observe the Votes of the learned +<i>Cabalists</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Which shall be put in Act forthwith—I like this Man well, he +does nothing without mature <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag54" id="patient_texttag54" href="#patient_textnote54">Deliberation</a>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Brunswick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +By your leaves, Gentlemen—Sir <i>Credulous</i>— +<span class="stagedir"> +Whispers.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh—’tis <i>Lodwick’s</i> Friend, the Rascal’s dress’d like +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag22" id="patient_commtag22" href="#patient_commnote22"><i>Vanderbergen</i></a> in the +<i>Strand</i>:—Sir <i>Patient</i>, pray know this glorious Doctor, +Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +A Doctor, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A Doctor, Sir! yes, and as eloquent a Doctor, Sir, as ever set Bill to +Post: why, ’tis—the incomparable—<i>Brunswick</i>, +<i>High-Dutch</i> Doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +You’re welcome, Sir,—Pray sit; ah.—Well, Sir, you are come +to visit a very crazy sickly Person, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +Pray let me feel your Pulse, Sir;—what think you, Gentlemen, is he +not very far gone?— +<span class="stagedir"> +Feels his Pulse, they all feel.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ah, far, far.—Pray, Sir, have you not a certain wambling Pain in +your Stomach, Sir, as it were, Sir, a—a pain, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, very great, Sir, especially in a Morning fasting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I knew it by your stinking Breath, Sir—and are you not troubled +with a Pain in your Head, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +In my Head, Sir?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">102</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I mean a—kind of a—Pain,—a kind of a +<i>Vertigo</i>, as the <i>Latins</i> call it; and a <a class="notes" +name="patient_texttag55" id="patient_texttag55" href="#patient_textnote55"><i>Whirligigoustiphon</i></a>, as the +<i>Greeks</i> have it, which signifies in <i>English</i>, Sir, +a Dizzie-swimming kind—of a do ye +see—a thing—that—a—you understand me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, intolerable, intolerable!—why, this is a rare Man!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Your Reason, Sir, for that? +<span class="stagedir"> +To Sir <em>Cred.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +My Reason, Sir? why, my Reason, Sir, is this, <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag23" id="patient_commtag23" href="#patient_commnote23"><i>Haly</i> the <i>Moore</i>, and <i>Rabbi +Isaac</i></a>, and some thousands more of learned <i>Dutchmen</i>, +observe your dull Wall Eye and your +Whir—<i>Whirligigoustiphon</i>, to be inseparable.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +A most learned Reason!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Oh, Sir, inseparable.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +And have you not a kind of a—something—do ye mark me, when +you make Water, a kind of a stopping—and—a—do ye +conceive me, I have forgot the <i>English</i> Term, Sir, but in +Latin ’tis a <i>Stronggullionibus</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh, Sir, most extremely, ’tis that which makes me desperate, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Your ugly Face is an infallible Sign; your <i>Dysurie</i>, as the +<i>Arabicks</i> call it, and your ill-favour’d Countenance, are constant +Relatives.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Constant, constant.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Pray how do you eat, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ah, Sir, there’s my distraction. Alas, Sir, I have the weakest +Stomach—I do not make above four Meals a-day, and then indeed +I eat heartily—but alas, what’s that to eating to +live?—nothing, Sir, nothing.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Poor Heart, I pity him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +And between Meals, good Wine, Sweet-meats, Caudles,—Cordials and +Mirabilises, to keep up my fainting Spirits.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A Pox of his Aldermanship: an the whole Bench were such notable +Swingers, ’twould famish the City sooner than a Siege.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">103</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Brothers, what do you think of this Man?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Think, Sir? I think his Case is desperate.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Shaw, Sir, we shall soon rectify the quiblets and quillities of his +Blood, if he observes our Directions and Diet, which is to eat but once +in four or five days.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How, Sir, eat but once in four or five days? such a Diet, Sir, would +kill me; alas, Sir, kill me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh no, Sir, no; for look ye, Sir, the Case is thus, do you mind +me—so that the Business lying so obvious, do ye see, there is a +certain Method, do ye mark me—in a—Now, Sir, when a Man goes +about to alter the course of Nature,—the case is very plain, you +may as well arrest the Chariot of the Sun, or alter the Eclipses of the +Moon; for, Sir, this being of another Nature, the Nature of it is to be +unnatural, you conceive me, Sir?—therefore we must crave your +absence, Sir, for a few Minutes, till we have debated this great +Affair.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +With all my heart, Sir, since my Case is so desperate, a few hours +were not too much. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. Sir <em>Pat.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Now, Sir, my service to you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Fanny</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Oh living heart! what do all these Men do in our House? sure they are a +sort of new-fashion’d Conventiclers:—I’ll hear ’em preach. +<span class="stagedir"> +They drink round the while.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Sir, my service to you, and to your good Lady, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Again to you, Sir, not forgetting your Daughters: they are fine Women, +Sir, let Scandal do its worst. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +To our better trading, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +Faith, it goes but badly on, I had the weekly Bill, and ’twas a +very thin Mortality; some of the better sort die indeed, that have good +round Fees to give.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Verily, I have not kill’d above my five or six this Week.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">104</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +How, Sir, kill’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Kill’d, Sir! ever whilst you live, especially those who have the grand +<i>Verole</i>; for ’tis not for a Man’s Credit to let the Patient want +an Eye or a Nose, or some other thing. I have kill’d ye my five or +six dozen a Week—but times are hard.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +I grant ye, Sir, your Poor for Experiment and Improvement of Knowledge: +and to say truth, there ought to be such Scavengers as we to sweep away +the Rubbish of the Nation. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Cred.</em> and <em>Fat</em> seeming in Discourse.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Nay, an you talk of a Beast, my service to you, Sir— +<span class="aside">Drinks.</span> +Ay, I lost the finest Beast of a Mare in all <i>Devonshire</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +And I the finest Spaniel, Sir.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Here they all talk together till you come to —<em>purpose, +Sir</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Pray, what News is there stirring?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +Faith, Sir, I am one of those Fools that never regard whether +<i>Lewis</i> or <i>Philip</i> have the better or the worst.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Peace is a great Blessing, Sir, a very great Blessing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +You are i’th right, Sir, and so my service to you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Well, Sir, <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag24" id="patient_commtag24" href="#patient_commnote24"><i>Stetin</i></a> held +out nobly, though the Gazettes are various.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +There’s a world of Men kill’d they say; why, what a shame ’tis so many +thousands should die without the help of a Physician.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Hang ’em, they were poor Rogues, and not worth our killing; my service +to you, Sir, they’ll serve to fill up Trenches.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Spaniel, Sir! no Man breathing understands Dogs and Horses better than +my self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Your pardon for that, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +For look ye, Sir, I’ll tell you the Nature of Dogs and Horses.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +So can my Groom and Dog-keeper; but what’s this to th’ purpose, Sir?</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Here they leave off.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">105</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +To th’ purpose, Sir! good Mr. <i>Hedleburgh</i>, do you understand +what’s to th’ purpose? you’re <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag25" id="patient_commtag25" href="#patient_commnote25">a <i>Dutch</i> Butter-ferkin, +a Kilderkin</a>, a Double Jug.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +You’re an ignorant Blockhead, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +You lye, Sir, and there I was with you again.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +What, quarrelling, Men of your Gravity and Profession.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +That is to say, Fools and Knaves: pray, how long is’t since you left +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag26" id="patient_commtag26" href="#patient_commnote26">Toping and Napping</a>, for Quacking, good +Brother <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag27" id="patient_commtag27" href="#patient_commnote27">Cater-tray</a>?—but let that pass, for I’ll +have my Humour, and therefore will quarrel with no Man, and so I +drink.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes to fill again.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +—But, what’s all this to the Patient, Gentlemen?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ay,—the Wine’s all out,—and Quarrels apart, Gentlemen, as +you say, what do you think of our Patient? for something I conceive +necessary to be said for our Fees.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +I think that unless he follows our Prescriptions he’s a dead Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Ay, Sir, a dead Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Please you to write, Sir, you seem the youngest Doctor. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Amst.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Your Pardon, Sir, I conceive there maybe younger Doctors than I at the +Board.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A fine Punctilio this, when a Man lies a dying +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +—Sir, you shall excuse me, I have been a Doctor this 7 Years. +<span class="stagedir"> +They shove the Pen and Paper from one to the other.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +I commenc’d at <i>Paris</i> twenty years ago.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +And I at <i>Leyden</i>, almost as long since.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +And I at <i>Barcelona</i> thirty.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +And I at <i>Padua</i>, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +You at <i>Padua?</i></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Yes, Sir, I at <i>Padua</i>; why, what a pox, do ye think I never was +beyond Sea?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +However, Sir, you are the youngest Doctor, and must write.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">106</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I will not lose an inch of my Dignity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Nor I.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Nor I.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Nor I. +<span class="stagedir"> +Put the Paper from each other.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +Death, what Rascals are these?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Give me the Pen—here’s ado about your <i>Paduas</i> and +Punctilioes. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sets himself to write.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Every morning a Dose of my Pills <i>Merda queorusticon</i>, or the +Amicable Pill.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Fasting?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +Every Hour sixscore drops of <i>Adminicula Vitæ</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Fasting too? +<span class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Cred.</em> writes still.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +At Night twelve Cordial Pills, <i>Gallimofriticus</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Turb.</span> +Let Blood once a Week, a Glister once a day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +Cry Mercy, Sir, you’re a <i>French</i> Man.—After his first Sleep, +threescore restorative Pills, call’d <i>Cheatus Redivivus</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +And lastly, fifteen Spoonfuls of my <i>Aqua Tetrachymagogon</i>, as +often as ’tis necessary; little or no Breakfast, less Dinner, and go +supperless to Bed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Hum, your <i>Aqua Tetrachymagogon</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Yes, Sir, my <i>Tetrachymagogon</i>; for look ye, do you see, Sir, +I cur’d the Arch-Duke of <i>Strumbulo</i> of a <i>Gondileero</i>, +of which he dy’d, with this very <i>Aqua Tetrachymagogon</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Patient</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Well, Gentlemen, am I not an intruder?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fat D.</span> +Sir, we have duly consider’d the state of your Body; and are now about +the Order and Method you are to observe.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brun.</span> +Ay, this Distemper will be the occasion of his Death.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Hold, Brothers, I do not say the occasion of his Death; but the +occasional Cause of his Death. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Pat.</em> reads the Bill.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">107</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, here’s no time allow’d for eating, Gentlemen.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Amst.</span> +Sir, we’ll justify this Prescription to the whole College.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Leyd.</span> +If he will not follow it, let him die.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Ay, let him die.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lodwick</em> and <em>Leander</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +What, have you consulted without me, Gentlemen? +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lod.</em> reads the Bill.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Yes, Sir, and find it absolutely necessary for my Health, Sir, +I shou’d be starv’d: and yet you say I am not sick, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Very well, very well.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +No Breakfast, no Dinner, no Supper?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Little or none, but none’s best.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +But, Gentlemen, consider, no small thing?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Nothing, nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Sir, you must write for your Fee. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Lod.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Now I think on’t, Sir, you may eat +<span class="stagedir continue">Writes.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +a roasted Pippin cold upon a Vine-leaf, at night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Do you see, Sir, what damn’d canting Rascals these Doctors are?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ay, ay, if all Doctors were such, ingenuously, I shou’d soon be +weary of Physick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Give ’em their Fees, Sir, and send ’em to the Devil for a Company of +Cheats.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Truth is, there is no faith in ’em,—well, I thank you for +your Care and Pains. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives ’em Fees.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Sir, if you have any occasion for me, I live at the red-colour’d +Lanthorn, with eleven Candles in’t, in the <i>Strand</i>; where you may +come in privately, and need not be ashamed, I having no Creature in +my House but my self, and my whole Family.—</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Ick quam Van Neder Landt te spreken</p> +<p>End helpen Van Pocken end ander gebreken.</p> +</div> + +<p>That’s a top of my Bill, sweet Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="patient_texttag56" id="patient_texttag56" +href="#patient_textnote56">Exeunt Doctors.</a></span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">108</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Lord, Sir Father, why do you give ’em Money?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +For talking Nonsense this Hour or two upon his Distemper.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fan.</span> +Oh lemini, Sir, they did not talk one word of you, but of Dogs and +Horses, and of killing Folks, and of their Wives and Daughters; and when +the Wine was all out, they said they wou’d say something for their +Fees.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Say you so!—Knaves, Rogues, Cheats, Murderers! I’ll be reveng’d on +’em all,—I’ll ne’er be sick again,—or if I be, I’ll die +honestly of my self without the assistance of such Rascals,—go, +get you gone.— +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Fan.</em> who goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +A happy resolution! wou’d you wou’d be so kind to your self as to make a +trial of your Lady too; and if she prove true, ’twill make some kind of +amends for your so long being cozen’d this way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I’ll about it, this very minute about it,—give me a Chair.— +<span class="stagedir"> +He sits.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +So, settle your self well, disorder your Hair,—throw away your +Cane, Hat and Gloves,—stare, and rowl your Eyes, squeeze your Face +into Convulsions,—clutch your Hands, make your Stomach heave, so, +very well,—now let me alone for the rest—Oh, help, help, my +Lady, my Aunt, for Heavens sake, help,—come all and see him die. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em>, Lady <em>Fancy</em>, <em>Isabella</em>, +<em>Lucretia</em>, Lady <em>Knowell</em>, <em>Roger</em>, <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag57" id="patient_texttag57" href="#patient_textnote57">and <em>Nurse</em></a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<i>Leander</i>, what’s the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +See, Madam, see my Uncle in the Agonies of Death.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +My dearest Husband dying, Oh! +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +How hard he struggles with departing Life!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Father, dear Father, must I in one day receive a Blessing with so great +a Curse? Oh,—he’s just going, Madam.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">109</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Let me o’ertake him in the Shades below, why do you hold me, can I live +without him? do I dissemble well?— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to <em>Wit.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Not live without me!—do you hear that, Sirrah? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Pray mark the end on’t, Sir,—feign,—feign.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +We left him well, how came he thus o’th’ sudden?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +I fear ’tis an Apoplexy, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Run, run for his Physician; but do not stir a foot. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside to <em>Roger</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Look up, and speak but one kind word to me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +What crys are these that stop me on my way?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +They’re mine,—your Lady’s—oh, surely he’ll recover. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Your most obedient Wife’s.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +My Wife’s, my Heir, my sole Executrix.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Hah, is he in’s Senses? +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Aside to <em>Wit.</em></span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Oh my dear Love, my Life, my Joy, my All, +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Crys.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Oh, let me go; I will not live without him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Seems to faint in <em>Wittmore’s</em> Arms. All run about +her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Do ye hear that, Sirrah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Have yet a little Patience, die away,—very well—Oh, he’s +gone,—quite gone. +<span class="stagedir"> +L. <em>Fan.</em> swoons.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Look to my Lady there, +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Swoons again.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Sure she can but counterfeit. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +They all go about her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, my Lady dying!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Sir, I beseech you wait the event. Death! the cunning Devil will +dissemble too long and spoil all,—here—carry the dead Corps +of my dearest Uncle to his Chamber. Nurse, to your Care I commit him +now.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt with Sir <em>Pat.</em> in a Chair.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +All follow but <em>Wittmore</em>; who going the other way, meets Sir +<em>Credulous</em> and <em>Lodwick</em>, as before.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<i>Lodwick!</i> the strangest unexpected News, Sir <i>Patient’s</i> +dead!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">110</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +How, dead! we have play’d the Physicians to good purpose, i’faith, and +kill’d the Man before we administer’d our Physick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Egad, I fear so indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Dead!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +As a Herring, and ’twill be dangerous to keep these habits longer.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Dangerous! Zoz, Man, we shall all be hang’d, why, our very Bill +dispatch’d him, and our Hands are to’t,—Oh, I’ll confess +all.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +Death, Sir, I’ll cut your Throat if you stir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Wou’d you have me hang’d for Company, Gentlemen? Oh, where shall I hide +my self, or how come at my Clothes?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +We have no time for that; go get you into your Basket again, and lie +snug, till I have convey’d you safe away,—or I’ll abandon +you.— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Aside to him.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +’Tis not necessary he shou’d be seen yet, he may spoil <i>Leander’s</i> +Plot. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh, thank ye, dear <i>Lodwick</i>,—let me escape this bout, and if +ever the Fool turn Physician again, may he be choak’d with his own +<i>Tetrachymagogon</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Go, haste and undress you, whilst I’ll to <i>Lucia</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +<ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘Exeuut’">Exeunt</ins> +<em>Lod.</em> <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag58" id="patient_texttag58" href="#patient_textnote58">and Sir +<em>Cred.</em></a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +As <em>Wittmore</em> is going out at one Door, enter Sir +<em>Patient</em> and <em>Leander</em> at the other Door.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Hah, <i>Wittmore</i> there! he must not see my Uncle yet. +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts Sir <em>Pat.</em> back.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Wit.</em></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Nay, Sir, never detain me, I’ll to my Lady, is this your +Demonstration?—Was ever so virtuous a Lady—Well, I’ll to +her, and console her poor Heart; ah, the Joy ’twill bring her to see my +Resurrection!—I long to surprize her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Going off cross the Stage.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +Hold, Sir, I think she’s coming,—blest sight, and with her +<i>Wittmore</i>! +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts Sir <em>Pat.</em> back to the Door.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">111</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Fancy</em> <ins class="correction" title="printed in roman (emphatic) type">and</ins> <em>Wittmore</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, what’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Now, my dear <i>Wittmore</i>, claim thy Rites of Love without controul, +without the contradiction of wretched Poverty or Jealousy: Now +undisguised thou mayst approach my Bed, and reign o’er all my Pleasures +and my Fortunes, of which this Minute I create thee Lord, And thus begin +my Homage.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Kisses him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Sure ’tis some Fiend! this cannot be my Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +’Tis something uncivil before your face, Sir, to do this.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Thou wondrous kind, and wondrous beautiful; that Power that made thee +with so many Charms, gave me a Soul fit only to adore ’em; nor wert thou +destin’d to another’s Arms, but to be render’d still more fit for +mine.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, is not that <i>Fainlove</i>, <i>Isabella’s</i> Husband? Oh Villain! +Villain! I will renounce my Sense and my Religion. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Another’s Arms! Oh, call not those hated</p> +<p>Thoughts to my remembrance,</p> +<p>Lest it destroy that kindly Heat within me,</p> +<p>Which thou canst only raise and still maintain.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Oh Woman! Woman! damn’d dissembling Woman. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Come, let me lead thee to that Mass of Gold he gave me to be +despis’d;</p> +<div class="verse continue"> +<p>And which I render thee, my lovely Conqueror,</p> +<p>As the first Tribute of my glorious Servitude.</p> +</div> +<p class="continue"> +Draw in the Basket which I told you of, and is amongst the Rubbish in +the Hall. +<span class="aside">Exit <em>Wittmore</em>.</span> +That which the Slave so many Years was toiling for, I in one moment +barter for a Kiss, as Earnest of our future Joys.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Was ever so prodigal a Harlot? was this the Saint? was this the most +tender <a class="notes" name="patient_texttag59" id="patient_texttag59" href="#patient_textnote59">Consort</a> that ever +Man had?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lean.</span> +No, in good faith, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">112</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wittmore</em> pulling in the Basket.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +This is it, with a direction on’t to thee, whither I design’d to send +it.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +<a class="comm" name="patient_commtag28" id="patient_commtag28" +href="#patient_commnote28">Good morrow</a> to the Day, and next the +Gold;</p> +<p>Open the Shrine, that I may see my Saint—</p> +<p>Hail the World’s Soul,— +<span class="stagedir"> +Opens the Basket, Sir <em>Cred.</em> starts up.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +O Heavens! what thing art thou?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +O, Pardon, Pardon, sweet Lady, I confess I had a hand in’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +In what, thou Slave?—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Killing the good believing Alderman;—but ’twas against my +Will.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Then I’m not so much oblig’d to thee,—but where’s the Money, the +8000<i>l.</i> the Plate and Jewels, Sirrah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Death, the Dog has eat it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Eat it! Oh Lord, eat 8000<i>l.</i> Wou’d I might never come out of this +Basket alive, if ever I made such a Meal in my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Ye Dog, you have eat it; and I’ll make ye swallow all the Doses you writ +in your Bill, but I’ll have it upward or downward. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Hah, one of the Rogues my Doctors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Oh, dear Sir, hang me out of the way rather.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maundy</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maun.</span> +Madam, I have sent away the Basket to Mr. <i>Wittmore’s</i> +Lodgings.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +You might have sav’d your self that Labour, I now having no more to +do, but to bury the stinking Corps of my quandom Cuckold, dismiss his +Daughters, and give thee quiet possession of all. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Wit.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Fair Lady, you’ll take me along with you? +<span class="stagedir"> +Snaps, pulls off his Hat, and comes up to her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +My Husband!—I’m betray’d—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Husband! I do defy thee, Satan, thou greater +<span class="pagenum">113</span> +Whore than she of <i>Babylon</i>; thou Shame, thou Abomination to thy +Sex.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Rail on, whilst I dispose my self to laugh at thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +<i>Leander</i>, call all the House in to be a Witness of our Divorce. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Lean.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +Do, and all the World, and let ’em know the Reason.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Methinks I find an Inclination to swear,—to curse my self and +thee, that I cou’d no better discern thee; nay, I’m so chang’d from what +I was, that I think I cou’d even approve of Monarchy and +Church-Discipline, I’m so truly convinc’d I have been a Beast and an Ass +all my Life.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Knowell</em>, <em>Isabella</em>, <em>Lucretia</em>, +<em>Leander</em>, <em>Lodwick</em>, <em>Fanny</em>, &c.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +Hah, Sir <i>Patient</i> not dead?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Ladies and Gentlemen, take notice that I am a Cuckold, a crop-ear’d +snivelling Cuckold.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A Cuckold! sweet Sir, shaw, that’s a small matter in a Man of your +Quality.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +And I beg your pardon, Madam, for being angry that you call’d me so. +<span class="aside">To L. <em>Kno.</em></span> +And yours, dear <i>Isabella</i>, for desiring you to marry my good +Friend there +<span class="aside">Points to <em>Wit.</em></span> +whose name I perceive I was mistaken in:—and yours, +<i>Leander</i>, that I wou’d not take your Advice long since: and yours, +fair Lady, for believing you honest,—’twas done like a credulous +Coxcomb:—and yours, Sir, for taking any of your Tribe for wise, +learned or honest. +<span class="stagedir"> +To Sir <em>Credulous</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Faith, Sir, I deceiv’d ye only to serve my Friend; and, Sir, your +Daughter is married to Mr <i>Knowell</i>: your Wife had all my stock of +Love before, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lod.</em> and <em>Isab.</em> kneel.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Why, God-a-mercy—some comfort that,—God bless +ye.—I shall love Disobedience while I live for’t.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">114</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +I am glad on’t, Sir, for then I hope you will forgive <i>Leander</i>, +who has married my Sister, and not my Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +How! has he served me so?—I’ll make him my Heir for’t, thou hast +made a Man of me, my Boy, and, faith, we will be merry,—Fair Lady, +you may depart in peace, fair Lady, restoring my Money, my Plate, my +Jewels and my Writings, fair Lady.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +You gave me no Money, Sir, prove it if you can; and for your Land, ’twas +not settled with this Proviso, if she be honest?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +’Tis well thou dost confess I am a Cuckold, for I wou’d have it known, +fair Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Fan.</span> +’Twas to that end I married you, good Alderman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I’faith, I think thou didst, Sweet-heart, i’faith, I think thou +didst.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wit.</span> +Right, Sir, we have long been Lovers, but want of Fortune made us +contrive how to marry her to your good Worship. Many a wealthy Citizen, +Sir, has contributed to the maintenance of a younger Brother’s Mistress; +and you are not the first Man in Office that has been a Cuckold, +Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +Some comfort that too, the Brethren of the Chain cannot laugh at me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +A very pleasant old Fellow this: faith, I cou’d be very merry with +him now, but that I am damnable sad.—Madam, I shall desire to +lay the Saddle on the right Horse. +<span class="stagedir"> +To L. <em>Kno.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +What mean you, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Only, Madam, if I were as some Men are, I should not be as I +am.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +It may be so, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +I say no more, but matters are not carried so swimmingly, but I can dive +into the meaning on’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Patient</em> talks this while to <em>Lodwick</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Kno.</span> +I hate this hypothetical way of arguing, answer me categorically.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">115</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Cred.</span> +Hypothetical and Categorical! what does she mean now? +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +—Madam, in plain <i>English</i>, I am made a <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag29" id="patient_commtag29" href="#patient_commnote29"><i>John-a-Nokes</i></a> of, +<i>Jack-hold-my-staff</i>, a <i>Merry Andrew</i> Doctor, to give +<i>Leander</i> time to marry your Daughter; and ’twas therefore I was +hoisted up in the Basket;—but as the play says, ’tis well ’tis no +worse: I’d rather lose my Mistress than my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +But how came this Rascal <i>Turboon</i> to admit you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lod.</span> +For the Lucre of our Fees, Sir, which was his recompence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Pat.</span> +I forgive it you, and will turn Spark, they live the merriest +Lives—keep some City Mistress, go to Court, and hate all +Conventicles.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>You see what a fine City-Wife can do</p> +<p>Of the true-breed; instruct her Husband too:</p> +<p>I wish all civil Cuckolds in the Nation</p> +<p>Would take example by my Reformation.</p> +</div> + + + + +<h4><a name="patient_epi" id="patient_epi">EPILOGUE,</a></h4> + +<h5>Spoken by Mrs. <i>Gwin</i>.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>I here and there o’erheard a Coxcomb cry, +<span class="stagedir">Looking about.</span></p> +<p>Ah, Rot it—’tis a Woman’s Comedy,</p> +<p>One, who because she lately chanc’d to please us,</p> +<p>With her damn’d Stuff, will never cease to teeze us.</p> +<p>What has poor Woman done, that she must be</p> +<p>Debar’d from Sense, and sacred Poetry?</p> +<p>Why in this Age has Heaven allow’d you more,</p> +<p>And Women less of Wit than heretofore?</p> +<p>We once were fam’d in story, and could write</p> +<p>Equal to Men; cou’d govern, nay, cou’d fight.</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr> +<td> +<p>We still have passive Valour, and can show,</p> +<p>Wou’d Custom give us leave, the active too,</p> +<p>Since we no Provocations want from you.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<span class="pagenum">116</span> +<p>For who but we cou’d your dull Fopperies bear,</p> +<p>Your saucy Love, and your brisk Nonsense hear;</p> +<p>Indure your worse than womanish Affectation,</p> +<p>Which renders you the Nusance of the Nation;</p> +<p>Scorn’d even by all the Misses of the Town,</p> +<p>A Jest to <a class="comm" name="patient_commtag30" id="patient_commtag30" href="#patient_commnote30">Vizard Mask</a>, the +<em>Pit-Buffoon</em>;</p> +<p>A Glass by which the admiring Country Fool</p> +<p>May learn to dress himself <em>en Ridicule:</em></p> +<p>Both striving who shall most ingenious grow</p> +<p>In Leudness, Foppery, Nonsense, Noise and Show.</p> +<p>And yet to these fine things we must submit</p> +<p>Our Reason, Arms, our Laurels, and our Wit.</p> +<p>Because we do not laugh at you, when leud,</p> +<p>And scorn and cudgel ye when you are rude.</p> +<p>That we have nobler Souls than you, we prove,</p> +<p>By how much more we’re sensible of Love;</p> +<p>Quickest in finding all the subtlest ways</p> +<p>To make your Joys, why not to make you Plays?</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr> +<td> +<p>We best can find your Foibles, know our own,</p> +<p>And Jilts and Cuckolds now best please the Town;</p> +<p>Your way of Writing’s out of fashion grown.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Method, and Rule—you only understand;</p> +<p>Pursue that way of Fooling, and be damn’d.</p> +<p>Your learned Cant of Action, Time and Place,</p> +<p>Must all give way to the unlabour’d Farce.</p> +<p>To all the Men of Wit we will subscribe:</p> +<p>But for your half Wits, you unthinking Tribe,</p> +<p>We’ll let you see, whate’er besides we do,</p> +<p>How artfully we copy some of you:</p> +<p>And if you’re drawn to th’ Life, pray tell me then,</p> +<p>Why Women should not write as well as Men.</p> +</div> + +</div> <!-- end div play --> + +<div class="textnote"> + +<h4><a name="patient_notes" id="patient_notes"> +Notes on the Text.</a></h4> + +<span class="pagenum notes">403</span> + +<h5 class="smallcaps">Sir Patient Fancy.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +To the Reader</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote1" id="patient_textnote1" href="#patient_texttag1">p. 7, l. 1</a> +<i>To the Reader.</i> Only in 4to 1678.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dramatis Personæ</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote2" id="patient_textnote2" href="#patient_texttag2">p. 10</a> +<i>Dramatis Personæ.</i> I have added ‘<i>Abel</i> (<i>Bartholmew</i>), +Clerk to <i>Sir Patient Fancy</i>; <i>Brunswick</i>, a friend to +<i>Lodwick Knowell</i>; <i>Antic</i>, Waiting-woman to <i>Lucretia</i>; +Nurse; Guests.’ In former editions the physicians are grouped together +as ‘Five Doctors’, and The Lady <i>Knowell</i> is mistakenly termed +‘Mother to <i>Lodwick</i> and <i>Isabella</i>’, which I have corrected +to ‘and <i>Lucretia</i>’. I have noted the confusion of ‘Abel’ and +‘Bartholmew’ in <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘the the’">the</ins> introduction, pp. 5-6.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote3" id="patient_textnote3" href="#patient_texttag3">p. 11, l. 2</a> +I have added ‘in Lady Knowell’s House.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote4" id="patient_textnote4" href="#patient_texttag4">p. <ins class="correction" title=", missing">13,</ins> l. 14</a> +<i>Foibles.</i> 4to 1678 ‘feables’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote5" id="patient_textnote5" href="#patient_texttag5">p. 14, l. 17</a> +<i>apamibominous ... podas.</i> 4to 1678 ‘apamibominus ... Podis’.<a +class="tag" name="tagA" id="tagA" href="#noteA">A</a></p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote6" id="patient_textnote6" href="#patient_texttag6">p. 15, l. 3</a> +<i>Mudd.</i> 1724 ‘mad’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene ia</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote7" id="patient_textnote7" href="#patient_texttag7">p. 16, l. 12</a> +<i>now, Curry, from.</i> 1724 omits ‘Curry’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote8" id="patient_textnote8" href="#patient_texttag8">p. 16, l. 25</a> +<i>Branford.</i> 1724 here and <i>infra</i> ‘Brentford’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote9" id="patient_textnote9" href="#patient_texttag9">p. 16, l. 30</a> +<i>Cuffet’s.</i> 1724 ‘Cusset’s’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote10" id="patient_textnote10" href="#patient_texttag10">p. 22, l. 22</a> +<i>not.</i> Erroneously omitted by 4to 1678.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote11" id="patient_textnote11" href="#patient_texttag11">p. 23, l. 2</a> +<i>a Dog.</i> 4to 1678 ‘the Dog.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote12" id="patient_textnote12" href="#patient_texttag12">p. 23, l. 16</a> +<i>with Page.</i> I have added the Page’s exit.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote13" id="patient_textnote13" href="#patient_texttag13">p. 25, l. 20</a> +<i>Ex. severally.</i> 4to 1678 adds ‘The End of the First Act.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote14" id="patient_textnote14" href="#patient_texttag14">p. 25, l. 22</a> +<i>to Sir Patient Fancy’s House.</i> I have added these words.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote15" id="patient_textnote15" href="#patient_texttag15">p. 33, l. 27</a> +<i>Exit with L. Fan.</i> I have added the necessary ‘with L. Fan.’ 4to +1678 reads ‘Goes out.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote16" id="patient_textnote16" href="#patient_texttag16">p. 35, l. 2</a> +<i>Roger attending.</i> I have added this entrance of Roger here.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote17" id="patient_textnote17" href="#patient_texttag17">p. 36, l. 21</a> +<i>Enter Sir Patient.</i> 4to 1678 gives this entrance after ‘mercy’, +l. 22.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote18" id="patient_textnote18" href="#patient_texttag18">p. 40, l. 25</a> +<i>Exit Roger.</i> I have added this exit here, and at <a name="patient_textnote18a" id="patient_textnote18a" href="#patient_texttag18a">p. 43, l. 2</a>.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote19" id="patient_textnote19" href="#patient_texttag19">p. 44, l. 6</a> +<i>Exeunt severally.</i> 4to 1678 adds ‘The End of the Second Act.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote20" id="patient_textnote20" href="#patient_texttag20">p. 44, l. 9</a> +<i>to a room in Sir Patient Fancy’s house.</i> I have supplied this +locale.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote21" id="patient_textnote21" href="#patient_texttag21">p. 45, l. 11</a> +<i>and Maundy.</i> I have supplied Maundy’s entrance here.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote22" id="patient_textnote22" href="#patient_texttag22">p. 47, l. 1</a> +<i>a thousand Faults.</i> 1724 mistakenly reads ‘a thousand hidden +Faults’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote23" id="patient_textnote23" href="#patient_texttag23">p. 48, l. 34</a> +<i>in spite to.</i> 1724 ‘in spite of’ which makes nonsense of the +passage.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote24" id="patient_textnote24" href="#patient_texttag24">p. 49, l. 8</a> +<i>Scene III.</i> I have numbered this and all the succeeding scenes of +Act III.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene vii</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote25" id="patient_textnote25" href="#patient_texttag25">p. 53, l. 32</a> +<i>Within.</i> Not in any previous edition.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote26" id="patient_textnote26" href="#patient_texttag26">p. 54, l. 10</a> +<i>Within.</i> All previous editions print this stage direction as part +of Sir Patient’s speech.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote27" id="patient_textnote27" href="#patient_texttag27">p. 54, l. 19</a> +<i>Discovery.</i> All previous editions here have ‘Enter Sir Patient’, +which is a very patent error. I have supplied <a name="patient_textnote27a" id="patient_textnote27a">‘Within’</a> as stage +direction.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote28" id="patient_textnote28" href="#patient_texttag28">p. 59, l. 6</a> +<i>Isabella, Fanny.</i> I have supplied ‘Fanny’ to this stage +direction.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote29" id="patient_textnote29" href="#patient_texttag29">p. 59, l. 19</a> +<i>D’on.</i> 4to 1678 misprints ‘D’on on Flannel’.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">404</span> +<p><a name="patient_textnote30" id="patient_textnote30" href="#patient_texttag30">p. 60, l. 13</a> +<i>Enter Roger.</i> I have supplied the names ‘Roger’ and ‘Abel’ to this +stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote31" id="patient_textnote31" href="#patient_texttag31">p. 61, l. 13</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> 4to 1678 adds ‘The End of the Third Act.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote32" id="patient_textnote32" href="#patient_texttag32">p. 71, l. 27</a> +<i>are.</i> 4to 1678, not so well, ‘were’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote33" id="patient_textnote33" href="#patient_texttag33">p. 72, l. 19</a> +<i>A Chamber in Sir Patient Fancy’s House.</i> I have supplied this +locale.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote34" id="patient_textnote34" href="#patient_texttag34">p. 77, l. 2</a> +<i>come.</i> 4to 1678 ‘came’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote35" id="patient_textnote35" href="#patient_texttag35">p. 77, l. 33</a> +<i>but for my sending him, Madam, credit me.</i> 1724 omits this +sentence.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote36" id="patient_textnote36" href="#patient_texttag36">p. 79, l. 13</a> +<i>sad.</i> 1724 ‘said’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote37" id="patient_textnote37" href="#patient_texttag37">p. 79, l. 31</a> +<i>Exit.</i> I have supplied this stage direction.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote38" id="patient_textnote38" href="#patient_texttag38">p. 81, l. 1</a> +<i>Exit Roger.</i> I have supplied this.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote39" id="patient_textnote39" href="#patient_texttag39">p. 81, l. 11</a> +<i>little.</i> 1724 misprints ‘letter’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote40" id="patient_textnote40" href="#patient_texttag40">p. 82, l. 30</a> +<i>Fanny and Nurse go.</i> All previous editions have ‘Fanny goes’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote41" id="patient_textnote41" href="#patient_texttag41">p. 82, l. 31</a> +<i>Scene IV.</i> I have numbered this scene.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote42" id="patient_textnote42" href="#patient_texttag42">p. 82, l. 33</a> +<i>Entering.</i> I have supplied this necessary stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote43" id="patient_textnote43" href="#patient_texttag43">p. 87, l. 15</a> +<i>Hogsdowne.</i> 1724 ‘Hogsdon’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote44" id="patient_textnote44" href="#patient_texttag44">p. 89, l. 3</a> +<i>leading her.</i> Omitted in 1724. 4to 1678 here has ‘The End of the +Fourth Act.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote45" id="patient_textnote45" href="#patient_texttag45">p. 89, l. 5</a> +<i>Scene I. A Room.</i> All previous editions have ‘Scene I. +A Table and Six Chairs.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote46" id="patient_textnote46" href="#patient_texttag46">p. 89, l. 28</a> +<i>come.</i> 4to 1678 ‘came’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote47" id="patient_textnote47" href="#patient_texttag47">p. 95, l. 20</a> +<i>fatum.</i> 4to 1678 ‘facum.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote48" id="patient_textnote48" href="#patient_texttag48">p. 96, l. 2</a> +<i>and will.</i> 1724, very erroneously, ‘and I will’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote49" id="patient_textnote49" href="#patient_texttag49">p. 98, l. 13</a> +<i>and Bartholomew.</i> I have added this entrance, unmarked in former +editions, as later in the scene (p. 99, l. 30) he is +addressed.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote50" id="patient_textnote50" href="#patient_texttag50">p. 98, l. <ins class="correction" title="text has ‘16.’">16</ins></a> +<i>Exit Roger.</i> I have supplied this.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote51" id="patient_textnote51" href="#patient_texttag51">p. 99, l. 35</a> +<i>Exit.</i> I have added this stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote52" id="patient_textnote52" href="#patient_texttag52">p. 100, l. 4</a> +<i>Exit Lod.</i> This is unmarked in previous editions.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote53" id="patient_textnote53" href="#patient_commtag21">p. 100, l. 25</a> +<i>Medicinæ Professores.</i> 1724 ‘Medicina Presessores, qui hic +assemblati esti, & vos altra Mesioris’. +<a class="crossref" href="#patient_commnote21">Critical Note</a></p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote54" id="patient_textnote54" href="#patient_texttag54">p. 101, l. 12</a> +<i>Deliberation.</i> 4to 1678 here has ‘[Goes out.’ which must obviously +be a mistake.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote55" id="patient_textnote55" href="#patient_texttag55">p. 102, l. 2</a> +<i>Whirligigoustiphon.</i> 1724 ‘Whirligigousticon’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote56" id="patient_textnote56" href="#patient_texttag56">p. 107, l. 36</a> +<i>Exeunt Doctors.</i> All previous editions faultily have ‘Exeunt.’ +after ‘whole Family.—’ I have added ‘Doctors.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote57" id="patient_textnote57" href="#patient_texttag57">p. 108, l. 27</a> +<i>and Nurse.</i> I have added these words as she is addressed later in +the scene (p. 109, l. 31.)</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote58" id="patient_textnote58" href="#patient_texttag58">p. 110, l. 24</a> +<i>and Sir Cred.</i> I have added these words.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_textnote59" id="patient_textnote59" href="#patient_texttag59">p. 111, l. 34</a> +<i>Consort.</i> 1724 ‘Comfort’.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum notes">411</span> + +<h4>Notes: Critical And Explanatory.</h4> + +<h5 class="smallcaps">Sir Patient Fancy.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +To the Reader</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote1" id="patient_commnote1" href="#patient_commtag1">p. 7</a> +<i>to show their breeding (as Bays sayes).</i> cf. <i>The Rehearsal</i>, +ii, <span class="smallroman">II</span>:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>1 <i>King.</i> You must begin, <i>Mon foy</i>.</p> +<p>2 <i>King.</i> Sweet, Sir, <i>Pardonnes moy</i>.</p> +<p><i>Bayes.</i> Mark that: I makes ’em both speak <i>French</i> to shew +their breeding.</p> +</div> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote2" id="patient_commnote2" href="#patient_commtag2">p. 14</a> +<i>Armida.</i> cf. Tasso’s <i>La Gerusalemme Liberata</i>, canto xiv, +&c. Armida is called Corcereis owing to the beauty and wonder of her +enchanted garden. Corcyra was the abode of King Alcinous, of whose +court, parks and orchards a famous description is to be found in the +seventh <i>Odyssey</i>. Martial (xiii, 37), speaks of ‘Corcyraei horti’, +a proverbial phrase.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene ia</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote3" id="patient_commnote3" href="#patient_commtag3">p. 20</a> +<i>Mum budget.</i> ‘Mum budget’, meaning ‘hush’, was originally the name +of a children’s game which required silence, cf. <i>Merry Wives of +Windsor</i>, v, <span class="smallroman">IV</span>: ‘I ... cried +<i>mum</i> and she cried <i>budget</i>.’ cf. also the term ‘Whist’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote4" id="patient_commnote4" href="#patient_commtag4">p. 22</a> +<i>Beginning at Eight.</i> The idea of this little speech is, of course, +from Bonnecorse’s <i>La Montre</i>, Mrs. Behn’s translation of which +will be found with an introduction in Vol. VI, p. 1.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote5" id="patient_commnote5" href="#patient_commtag5">p. 22</a> +<i>the Bergere.</i> cf. <i>The Feign’d Curtezans</i> (Vol. II, +p. 346): ‘The hour of the Berjere’; and the note on that passage +(p. 441). +<a class="crossref" href="#patient_crossref5"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The Feign’d Curtezans</i></a></p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote6" id="patient_commnote6" href="#patient_commtag6">p. 32</a> +<i>Ay and No Man.</i> cf. Prologue to <i>The False Count</i> (Vol. III, +p. 100): ‘By Yea and Nay’; and note on that passage (p. 480). +<a class="crossref" href="#patient_crossref6"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The False Count</i></a></p> + + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote7" id="patient_commnote7" href="#patient_commtag7">p. 44</a> +<i>Within a Mile of an Oak.</i> A proverbial saw. cf. D’Urfey’s <i>Don +Quixote</i> (1696), III, Act v, <span class="smallroman">I</span>, where Teresa cries: ‘The Ass was lost yesterday, +and Master <i>Carasco</i> tells us your Worship can tell within a mile +of an Oak where he is.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote8" id="patient_commnote8" href="#patient_commtag8">p. 44</a> +<i>Rustick Antick.</i> A quaint country dance.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote9" id="patient_commnote9" href="#patient_commtag9">p. 62</a> +<i>Hypallages.</i> A figure of speech by which attributes are +transferred from their proper subjects to others.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote10" id="patient_commnote10" href="#patient_commtag10">p. 62</a> +<i>Belli fugaces.</i> Ovid, <i>Amorum</i>, I, 9, has ‘Militat omnis +amans et habet sua castra Cupido’, and the idea is common. I have +made no attempt to correct the tags of Latinity in this play. Mrs. Behn +openly confessed she knew no Latin, and she was ill supplied here. +I do not conceive that the words are intentionally faulty and +grotesque. Lady Knowell is a pedant, but not ignorant.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote11" id="patient_commnote11" href="#patient_commtag11">p. 65</a> +<i><ins class="correction" title="body text has ‘Madam’">Madame</ins> Brenvilliers.</i> Marie-Marguerite d’Aubray, +Marquise de Brinvilliers, was executed at Paris 16 July, 1676.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote12" id="patient_commnote12" href="#patient_commtag12">p. 66</a> +<i>Bilbo-Blades!</i> Or oftener ‘bilbo-lords’, = swash-bucklers, cf. +<i>The Pilgrim</i> (folio, 1647), v, <span class="smallroman">VI</span>, where Juletta calls the old angry Alphonso ‘My +Bilbo Master’.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote13" id="patient_commnote13" href="#patient_commtag13">p. 70</a> +<i>whip slap-dash.</i> These nonsensical bywords, which were very +popular, are continually in the mouth of Sir Samuel Harty, a silly +coxcomb in +<span class="pagenum notes">412</span> +Shadwell’s <i>The Virtuoso</i> (1676). Nokes, who was acting Sir +Credulous, had created Sir Samuel Harty.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote14" id="patient_commnote14" href="#patient_commtag14">p. 71</a> +<i>The Bell in Friday-street.</i> The Bell was an inn of note in Friday +Street, Cheapside. cf. <i>Cal. State Papers</i> (1603-10, p. 455): +‘Sir Thomas Estcourt ... to Thomas Wilson. Is about to leave London and +proffers his services. If he has occasion to write to him he may have +weekly messengers ... at the Bell, Friday Street.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote15" id="patient_commnote15" href="#patient_commtag15">p. 79</a> +<i>th’ Exercise.</i> The puritanical term for private worship, cf. 1663 +<i>Flagellum; or, O. Cromwell</i> (1672), 21. ‘The Family was called +together to prayers; at which Exercise ... they continued long.’ cf. +<i>The Roundheads</i> (Vol. I), Act ii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>: ‘his Prayers; from which long-winded Exercise I +have of late withdrawn my self.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote16" id="patient_commnote16" href="#patient_commtag16">p. 83</a> +<i>Mirabilis.</i> Aqua mirabilis, a well-known invigorating +cordial, cf. Dryden’s <i>Marriage à la Mode</i> (1672), iii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>: ‘The country gentlewoman ... who ... opens her +dear bottle of Mirabilis beside, for a gill glass of it at parting.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote17" id="patient_commnote17" href="#patient_commtag17">p. 84</a> +<i>Tranghams.</i> Nick-nacks, toys, trinkets, cf. Arbuthnot, <i>History +of John Ball</i> (1712-3), Pt. <span class="smallroman">II</span>, c. +vi: ‘What’s the meaning of all these trangrams and gimcracks?’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote18" id="patient_commnote18" href="#patient_commtag18">p. 92</a> +<i>to souse.</i> cf. <i>Florio</i> (ed. 1611): ‘to leape or seaze +greedily upon, to souze downe as a hauke.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote19" id="patient_commnote19" href="#patient_commtag19">p. 93</a> +<i>this Balatroon.</i> A rogue. The word is very rare. cf. Cockeram +(1623): ‘<i>Ballatron</i>, a rascally base knave.’</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote20" id="patient_commnote20" href="#patient_commtag20">p. 95</a> +<i>Rotat omne fatum.</i> This would be an exceptionally rare use of +rotare = rotari, intransitive. But Mrs. Behn, as Dryden tells us in his +preface to the translation of Ovid’s <i>Heroides</i> (1680) ‘by many +hands’, insisted upon the fact that she knew no Latin.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote21" id="patient_commnote21" href="#patient_commtag21">p. 100</a> +<i>Medicinæ Professores.</i> This is from the <i>Troisième Intermède</i> +of <i>Le Malade Imaginaire</i> which commences:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Savantissimi doctores,</p> +<p>Medicinæ professores,</p> +<p>Qui hic assemblati estis;</p> +<p>Et vos, altri messiores,</p> +<p>Sententiarum facultatis. +<a class="crossref" href="#patient_textnote53"> +<i>Text Note</i></a></p> +</div> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote22" id="patient_commnote22" href="#patient_commtag22">p. 101</a> +<i>Vanderbergen.</i> A well-known empiric of the day.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote23" id="patient_commnote23" href="#patient_commtag23">p. 102</a> +<i>Haly the Moore, and Rabbi Isaac.</i> Ali Bey (Bobrowski), +a Polish scholar, died at Constantinople 1675. He wrote, amongst +other treatises, <i>De Circumcisione</i>; <i>De Aegrotorum +Visitatione</i>. These were published at Oxford in 1691. Isaac Levita or +Jean Isaac Levi was a celebrated rabbi of the sixteenth century. +A professor at Cologne, he practised medicine and astrology.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote24" id="patient_commnote24" href="#patient_commtag24">p. 104</a> +<i>Stetin.</i> Stettin, the capital of Pomerania, was one of the chief +towns of the Hanseatic league. Occupied by Sweden 1637-1713, it was the +centre of continual military operations.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote25" id="patient_commnote25" href="#patient_commtag25">p. 105</a> +<i>A Dutch Butter-ferkin, a Kilderkin.</i> These terms are common abuse +as applied to a corpulent person. A firkin (Mid. Dut., vierdekijn) += a small cask for holding liquids or butter; originally +half-a-kilderkin. <i>Dictionary of the Canting Crew</i> (1700) has +‘Firkin of foul Stuff; a ... Coarse, Corpulent Woman’. cf. Dryden’s +<i>Mac Flecknoe</i> (1682):—</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">413</span> +<div class="verse"> +<p>A Tun of Man in thy large Bulk is writ,</p> +<p>But sure thou’rt but a Kilderkin of wit.</p> +</div> + +<p>Shadwell was extremely gross in habit and of an unwieldy size.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote26" id="patient_commnote26" href="#patient_commtag26">p. 105</a> +<i>Toping and Napping.</i> ‘To top’ and ‘to nap’ are slang terms +signifying to cheat, especially with dice. cf. R. Head, <i>Canting +Academy</i> (1673), ‘What chance of the dye is soonest thrown in +topping, shoring, palming, napping.’ Both words occur very frequently, +and are amply explained in the Slang Dictionaries.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote27" id="patient_commnote27" href="#patient_commtag27">p. 105</a> +<i>Cater-Tray.</i> Quatre-trois; a cast at dice.</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote28" id="patient_commnote28" href="#patient_commtag28">p. 112</a> +<i>Good morrow.</i> Wittmore quotes the opening lines of <i>Volpone</i>, +Act i, <span class="smallroman">I</span>:</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Good morning to the day; and next my gold!</p> +<p>Open the shrine that I may see my saint.</p> +<p>Hail the world’s soul and mine!</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote29" id="patient_commnote29" href="#patient_commtag29">p. 115</a> +<i>John-a-Nokes.</i> The fictitious name for the one party in a legal +action. The term came to have the same meaning as ‘Jack-hold-my-staff’ = +any fool or nincompoop.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Epilogue</p> + +<p><a name="patient_commnote30" id="patient_commnote30" href="#patient_commtag30">p. 116</a> +<i>Vizard Mask.</i> The commonest Restoration synonym for a ‘bona roba’, +especially as plying the theatre.</p> + +</div> <!-- end div textnote --> + + +<div class="endnote"> +<h4>Cross-References</h4> + +<p><a name="patient_crossref5" id="patient_crossref5" href="#patient_commnote5">Note to p. 22</a>: <i>the Bergere.</i></p> + +<p><i>Feign’d Curtezans</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>The hour of the Berjere</i>. L’heure du berger ou l’amant trouve +celle qu’il aime favorable à ses voeux. cf. La Fontaine, <i>Contes. La +Coupe Enchantée</i>. ‘Il y fait bon, l’heure du berger sonne.’ It is a +favourite expression of Mrs. Behn. cf. <i>Sir Patient Fancy</i>, Act +i, <span class="smallroman">I</span>. ‘From Ten to Twelve are the +happy hours of the Bergere, those of intire enjoyment.’ Also the +charming conclusion of <i>The Lover’s Watch</i>:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Damon, my watch is just and new:</p> +<p>And all a Lover ought to do,</p> +<p>My Cupid faithfully will show.</p> +<p>And ev’ry hour he renders there</p> +<p>Except <i>l’heure du Bergère</i>.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="patient_crossref6" id="patient_crossref6" href="#patient_commnote6">Note to p. 32</a>: <i>Ay and No Man.</i></p> + +<p><i>False Count</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>By Yea and Nay</i>. ‘Yea and Nay’ was often derisively applied to the +Puritans, and hence to their lineal descendants the Whigs, in allusion +to the Scriptural injunction, <i>S. Matthew</i> v, 33-7, which they +feigned exactly to follow. Timothy Thin-beard, a rascally Puritan, in +Heywood’s <i>If you Know Not Me, You Know Nobody</i>, Part II (4to, +1606), is continually asseverating ‘By yea and nay’, cf. Fletcher’s +<i>Monsieur Thomas</i>, Act ii, <span class="smallroman">III</span>, where Thomas says:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Do not ye see me alter’d? ‘Yea and Nay,’ gentlemen;</p> +<p>A much-converted man.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<h4>Transcriber’s Footnote</h4> + +<p><a name="noteA" id="noteA" href="#tagA">A.</a> +“Ton d’ apamibominous prosiphe podas ochus Achilleus”</p> +<p class="inset"> +τὸν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς<br> +Ton d’ apameibomenos prosephê podas ôkus Achilleus</p> +<p>Each element (“Ton ... prosephê” and “podas ôkus Achilleus”) is used +several dozen times in the <i>Iliad</i>; the complete line occurs at +least ten times.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">117</span> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<h3><a name="prince" id="prince">THE AMOROUS PRINCE.</a></h3> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">118</span> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p><a href="#prince_arg">Argument.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#prince_source">Source.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#prince_hist">Theatrical History.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_pro">Prologue.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_cast">Dramatis Personæ.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_actI">Act I.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actI_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>The Chamber of +Cloris.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actI_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Grove.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actI_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>The Apartment of +Antonio.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actI_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>The Same.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_actII">Act II.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>The Apartment of +Frederick.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>Antonio’s +House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actII_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>The Street.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actII_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>Antonio’s +House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actII_sceneV">Scene V.</a> <i>A Chamber in Alberto’s +House.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_actIII">Act III.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>A Room in Salvator’s +House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Street.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIII_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Wood.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_actIV">Act IV.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>Antonio’s +House.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Street.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>Frederick’s +Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIV_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>A Street.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actIV_sceneV">Scene V.</a> <i>Antonio’s +House.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_actV">Act V.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>Laura’s Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Grove.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#prince_actV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>The Lodgings of +Curtius.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#prince_epi">Epilogue.</a></p> +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#prince_notes">Notes to <i>The Amorous Prince</i></a></p> +</div> + + +<div class="intro"> + +<span class="pagenum">119</span> +<h4><a name="prince_arg" id="prince_arg">ARGUMENT.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">Frederick</span>, ‘the Amorous Prince,’ a +mercurial young gallant, son to the Duke of Florence, under a solemn +promise of marriage debauches Cloris, sister to his friend and +confidant, Curtius. The girl has always led a secluded country life, and +this relationship is unknown to the Prince, who upon hearing the praises +of Laura, beloved by Curtius, straightway resolves to win this lady +also. Laura’s brother Lorenzo, a wanton madcap favourite of +Frederick’s, gladly effects the required introduction, and when Curtius +interrupts and forbids, Salvator, father to Laura and Lorenzo, promptly +turns the quondam lover out of the house. Lorenzo himself is idly +pursuing Clarina, wife to a certain Antonio, an abortive intrigue +carried on to his own impoverishment, but the enrichment of Isabella, +Clarina’s woman, a wench who fleeces him unmercifully. Antonio +being of a quaint and jealous humour would have his friend Alberto make +fervent love to Clarina, in order that by her refusals and chill denials +her spotless conjugal fidelity may be proved. However, Ismena, Clarina’s +sister, appears in a change of clothes as the wife, and manifold +complications ensue, but eventually all is cleared and Ismena accepts +Alberto, whom she has long loved; not before Isabella, having by a trick +compelled Lorenzo to declare himself her husband, enforces the bargain. +Cloris, meanwhile, disguised as a boy under the name of Philibert, +attaches herself to Frederick, first succouring him when he is wounded +in a duel by Curtius. Curtius to avenge his wrongs disguises himself, +and as a pandar entices Frederick into a snare by promises of supplying +the amorous Prince with lovely cyprians. Bravos, however, are in +waiting, but these prove to be in the service of Antonio, who appears +with Alberto and their friends, completely frustrating the plot, whilst +Clarina, Ismena, and other ladies have acted the courtezans to deceive +Curtius, and at the same time read the Prince a salutary lesson. He +profits so much by this experience that he takes Cloris, whose sex is +discovered, to be his bride, whilst Laura bestows her hand on the +repentant and forgiven Curtius.</p> + + +<h4><a name="prince_source" id="prince_source">SOURCE.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">Mrs. Behn</span> has taken her episode of +Antonio’s persuading Alberto to woo Clarina from Robert Davenport’s fine +play, <i>The City Night-Cap</i> (4to 1661, but licensed 24 October, +1624) where Lorenzo induces Philippo to test Abstemia in the same way. +Astrea, however, has considerably altered the conduct of the intrigue. +Bullen (<i>The Works of Robert Davenport</i>, 1890) conclusively and +exhaustively demonstrates that Davenport made use of Greene’s popular +<i>Philomela; the Lady Fitzwater’s Nightingale</i> (1592, 1615, and +1631), wherein Count Philippo employs Giovanni Lutesio to ‘make +experience of his wife’s [Philomela’s] honesty’, rather than was under +<span class="pagenum">120</span> +any obligation to Cervantes’ <i>Curioso Impertinente, Don Quixote</i>, +Book IV, ch. vi-viii. Read, Dunlop, and Hazlitt all had express’d the +same opinion. The Spanish tale turns upon the fact of Anselmo, the +Curious Impertinent, enforcing his friend Lothario to tempt his wife +Camilla. Such a theme, however, is common, and with variations is to be +found in Italian novelle. Recent authorities are inclined to suggest +that the plot of Beaumont and Fletcher’s <i>The Coxcomb</i> (1610), much +of which runs on similar lines, is not founded on Cervantes. Southerne, +in his comedy, <i>The Disappointment; or, The Mother in Fashion</i> +(1684) and ‘starch Johnny Crowne’ in <i>The Married Beau</i> (1694), +both comedies of no little wit and merit, are patently indebted to +<i>The Curious Impertinent</i>. Cervantes had also been used three +quarters of a century before by Nat Field in his <i>Amends for +Ladies</i> (4to, 1618), where Sir John Loveall tries his wife in an +exactly similar manner to Lorenzo, Count Philippo and Anselmo.</p> + +<p>The amours of the Florentine court are Mrs. Behn’s own invention; but +the device by which Curtius ensnares Frederick is not unlike Vendice and +Hippolito’s trapping of the lecherous old Duke in <i>The Revenger’s +Tragedy</i> (4to, 1607), albeit the saturnine Tourneur gives the whole +scene a far more terrible and tragic catastrophe.</p> + +<p>In January, 1537, Lorenzino de Medici having enticed Duke Alessandro +of Florence to his house under pretext of an assignation with a certain +Caterina Ginori, after a terrible struggle assassinated him with the aid +of a notorious bravo. Several plays have been founded upon this history. +Notable amongst them are Shirley’s admirable tragedy, <i>The Traitor</i> +(licensed May, 1631, 4to 1635) and in later days de Musset’s +<i>Lorenzaccio</i> (1834).</p> + +<p>The Mask in Act v of <i>The Amorous Prince</i> is in its purport most +palpably akin to the Elizabethans.</p> + + +<h4><a name="prince_hist" id="prince_hist">THEATRICAL +HISTORY.</a></h4> + +<p><i>The Amorous Prince</i> was produced by the Duke’s Company in the +spring of 1671 at their Lincoln’s Inn Fields theatre, whence they +migrated in November of the same year to the magnificent new house in +Dorset Garden. No performers’ names are given to the comedy, which met +with a very good reception. It seems to have kept the boards awhile, but +there is no record of any particular revival.</p> + +</div> + + +<span class="pagenum">121</span> +<h3>THE AMOROUS PRINCE.</h3> + + +<div class="play"> + +<h4><a name="prince_pro" id="prince_pro">PROLOGUE.</a></h4> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">Well!</span> you expect a <em>Prologue</em> +to the Play,</p> +<p>And you expect it too Petition-way;</p> +<p>With <em>Chapeau bas</em> beseeching you t’ excuse</p> +<p>A damn’d Intrigue of an unpractis’d Muse;</p> +<p>Tell you it’s Fortune waits upon your Smiles,</p> +<p>And when you frown, Lord, how you kill the whiles!</p> +<p>Or else to rally up the Sins of th’ Age,</p> +<p>And bring each Fop in Town upon the Stage;</p> +<p>And in one Prologue run more Vices o’er,</p> +<p>Than either Court or City knew before:</p> +<p>Ah! that’s a Wonder which will please you too,</p> +<p>But my Commission’s not to please you now.</p> +<p>First then for you grave <em>Dons</em>, who love no Play</p> +<p>But what is regular, <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag1" id="prince_commtag1" href="#prince_commnote1">Great <em>Johnson’s</em> +way</a>;</p> +<p>Who hate the <em>Monsieur</em> with the Farce and Droll,</p> +<p>But are for things well said with Spirit and Soul;</p> +<p>’Tis you I mean, whose Judgments will admit</p> +<p>No Interludes of fooling with your Wit;</p> +<p>You’re here defeated, and anon will cry,</p> +<p>’Sdeath! wou’d ’twere Treason to write Comedy.</p> +<p>So! there’s a Party lost; now for the rest,</p> +<p>Who swear they’d rather hear a smutty Jest</p> +<p>Spoken by <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag2" id="prince_commtag2" href="#prince_commnote2"><em>Nokes</em> or +<em>Angel</em></a>, than a Scene</p> +<p>Of the admir’d and well penn’d <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag3" id="prince_commtag3" href="#prince_commnote3"><em>Cataline</em></a>;</p> +<p>Who love <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag4" id="prince_commtag4" href="#prince_commnote4">the comick Hat</a>, +<a class="comm" name="prince_commtag5" id="prince_commtag5" href="#prince_commnote5">the Jig and Dance</a>,</p> +<p>Things that are fitted to their Ignorance:</p> +<p>You too are quite undone, for here’s no Farce</p> +<p>Damn me! you’ll cry, this Play will be mine A——</p> +<span class="pagenum">122</span> +<p>Not serious, nor yet comick, what is’t then?</p> +<p>Th’ imperfect issue of a lukewarm Brain:</p> +<p>’Twas born before its time, and such a Whelp;</p> +<p>As all the after-lickings could not help.</p> +<p>Bait it then as ye please, we’ll not defend it,</p> +<p>But he that dis-approves it, let him mend it.</p> +</div> + +</div> + + +<span class="pagenum">123</span> +<h4><a name="prince_cast" id="prince_cast"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag1" id="prince_texttag1" href="#prince_textnote1">DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</a> +</h4> + +<div class="cast"> +<p class="header">MEN.</p> + +<p><i>Frederick</i>, Son to the Duke.</p> +<p><i>Curtius</i>, his Friend.</p> +<p><i>Lorenzo</i>, a rich extravagant Lord, a kind of Favourite to +<i>Frederick</i>.</p> +<p><i>Salvator</i>, Father to <i>Lorenzo</i> and <i>Laura</i>.</p> +<p><i>Antonio</i>, a Nobleman of <i>Florence</i>.</p> +<p><i>Alberto</i>, his dear Friend, a Nobleman also.</p> +<p><i>Pietro</i>, Man to <i>Curtius</i>.</p> +<p><i>Galliard</i>, Servant to the Prince.</p> +<p><i>Guilliam</i>, Man to <i>Cloris</i>, a Country-fellow.</p> +<p>Valet to <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p class="header">WOMEN.</p> + +<p><i>Clarina</i>, Wife to <i>Antonio</i>.</p> +<p><i>Ismena</i>, Sister to <i>Antonio</i>, in love with +<i>Alberto</i>.</p> +<p><i>Laura</i>, Sister to <i>Lorenzo</i>, in love with +<i>Curtius</i>.</p> +<p><i>Cloris</i>, Sister to <i>Curtius</i>, disguis’d like a Country +Maid, in love with <i>Frederick</i>.</p> +<p><i>Isabella</i>, Woman to <i>Clarina</i>.</p> +<p><i>Lucia</i>, Maid to <i>Cloris</i>.</p> +<p>Pages and Musick.</p> +</div> + +<h4 class="scene"> +<em>SCENE</em>, The Court of <em>Florence</em>.</h4> + + +<div class="play"> + +<span class="pagenum">124</span> +<h3 class="act"><a name="prince_actI" id="prince_actI"> +ACT I.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actI_sceneI" id="prince_actI_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +The Chamber of <em>Cloris</em>.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Cloris</em> drest in her Night Attire, with <em>Frederick</em> +dressing himself.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +And will you leave me now to Fears,</p> +<p>Which Love it self can hardly satisfy?</p> +<p>But those, and that together sure will kill me,</p> +<p>If you stay long away.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +My Dear, ’tis almost day, and we must part;</p> +<p><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag2" id="prince_texttag2" +href="#prince_textnote2">Should those</a> rude Eyes ’mongst whom thou +dwell’st perceive us,</p> +<p>’Twould prove unhappy both to thee and me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +And will you, Sir, be constant to your Vows?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Ah Cloris! do not question what I’ve sworn;</p> +<p>If thou would’st have it once again repeated,</p> +<p>I’ll do’t. By all that’s good, I’ll marry thee;</p> +<p>By that most Holy Altar, before which we kneel’d,</p> +<p>When first I saw the brightest Saint that e’er ador’d it;</p> +<p>I’ll marry none but thee, my dearest <i>Cloris</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Sir, you have said enough to gain a credit</p> +<p>With any Maid, though she had been deceiv’d</p> +<p>By some such Flatteries as these before.</p> +<p>I never knew the pains of Fear till now; +<span class="stagedir"> +Sighs.</span></p> +<p>And you must needs forgive the Faults you make,</p> +<p>For had I still remain’d in Innocence,</p> +<p>I should have still believ’d you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Why, dost thou not, my Love?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Some doubts I have, but when I look on you,</p> +<p>Though I must blush to do so, they all vanish;</p> +<p>But I provide against your absence, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">125</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Make no provision, <i>Cloris</i>, but of Hope,</p> +<p>Prepare thy self against a Wedding day,</p> +<p>When thou shalt be a little Deity on Earth.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I know not what it is to dwell in Courts,</p> +<p>But sure it must be fine, since you are there;</p> +<p>Yet I could wish you were an humble Shepherd,</p> +<p>And knew no other Palace than this Cottage;</p> +<p>Where I would weave you Crowns, of Pinks and Daisies,</p> +<p>And you should be a Monarch every <i>May</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +And, <i>Cloris</i>, I could be content to sit</p> +<p>With thee, upon some shady River’s Bank,</p> +<p>To hear thee sing, and tell a Tale of Love.</p> +<p>For these, alas! I could do any thing;</p> +<p>A Sheep-hook I could prize above a Sword;</p> +<p>An Army I would quit to lead a Flock,</p> +<p>And more esteem that Chaplet wreath’d by thee,</p> +<p>Than the victorious <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag3" id="prince_texttag3" href="#prince_textnote3">Bays</a>:</p> +<p>All this I could, but, Dear, I have a Father,</p> +<p>Whom for thy sake, to make thee great and glorious,</p> +<p>I would not lose my Int’rest with.</p> +<p>But, <i>Cloris</i>, see, the unkind day approaches,</p> +<p>And we must kiss and part.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Unkind it is indeed, may it prove so</p> +<p>To all that wish its presence,</p> +<p>And pass as soon away,</p> +<p>That welcome Night may re-assume its place,</p> +<p>And bring you quickly back.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +With great impatience I’ll expect that Hour,</p> +<p>That shall conduct me in its Shades to thee;</p> +<p>Farewel.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Clo.</i> Farewel, Sir, if you must be gone. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sighs.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +One Kiss, and then indeed I will be gone. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kisses her.</span></p> +<p>A new blown Rose kist by the Morning Dew,</p> +<p>Has not more natural Sweetness.</p> +<p>Ah <i>Cloris</i>! can you doubt that Heart,</p> +<span class="pagenum">126</span> +<p>To whom such Blessings you impart?</p> +<p>Unjustly you suspect that Prize,</p> +<p>Won by such Touches and such Eyes.</p> +<p>My Fairest, turn that Face away,</p> +<p>Unless I could for ever stay;</p> +<p>Turn but a little while I go.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Sir, I must see the last of you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I dare not disobey; adieu till Evening. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lucia</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +How now, <i>Lucia</i>; is my Father up?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +No, not a Mouse stirs yet; I have kept a true</p> +<p>Watch all this Night, for I was cruelly afraid</p> +<p>Lest we should have been surpriz’d—</p> +<p>Is the Prince gone? but why do I ask,</p> +<p>That may read it in your sad Looks?</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Yes, he is gone, and with him too has taken— +<span class="stagedir"> +Sighs.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +What has he taken? I’ll swear you frighten me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +My heart, <i>Lucia</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Your Heart, I am glad ’tis no worse.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Why, what dost think he should have taken?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +A thing more hard to have been</p> +<p>Recovered again.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +What thing, prithee?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Your Maiden-head.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +What’s that?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +A thing young Gallants long extremely for,</p> +<p>And when they have it too, they say</p> +<p>They care not a Daisy for the Giver.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +How comest thou so wise, <i>Lucia</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Oh, the fine Gentleman that comes a-nights</p> +<p>With the Prince, told me so much, and bid me</p> +<p>Be sure never to part with it for fine Words;</p> +<p>For Men would lye as often as they swore;</p> +<p>And so bid me tell you too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Oh <i>Lucia</i>!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">127</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Why do you sigh?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +To think if Princes were like common Men,</p> +<p>How I should be undone,</p> +<p>Since I have given him all I had to give;</p> +<p>And who that looks on him can blame my Faith?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Indeed he surpasses <i>Damon</i> far;</p> +<p>But I’ad forgot my self, you are the Prince’s Wife;</p> +<p>He said you should be kneel’d to, and ador’d,</p> +<p>And never look’d on but on Holy-days:</p> +<p>That many Maids should wait upon your call,</p> +<p>And strow fine Flowers for you to tread upon.</p> +<p>Musick and Love should daily fill your Ears,</p> +<p>And all your other Senses should be ravish’d</p> +<p>With wonders of each kind great as your Beauty.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +<i>Lucia</i>, methinks you have learnt to speak fine things.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +I have a thousand more I’ve heard him say;</p> +<p>Oh, I could listen a whole Night to hear him talk:</p> +<p>But hark, I hear a Noise, the House is up,</p> +<p>And must not find us here.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Lock up this Box of Jewels for me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Luc.</span> +Oh rare! what, did these come to night?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Yes, yes, away.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actI_sceneII" id="prince_actI_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +A Grove.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Curtius</em> and <em>Pietro</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I wonder the Prince stays so long;</p> +<p>I do not like these Night-works;</p> +<p>Were I not confident of <i>Cloris’s</i> Virtue,</p> +<p>—Which shall no more be tempted.</p> +<p>I hear some coming, and hope ’tis he—</p> +<p><i>Pietro</i>, are the Horses ready?</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag4" id="prince_texttag4" href="#prince_textnote4">Exit <em>Pietro</em>.</a></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Frederick</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, you are welcome from <i>Cloris’s</i> Arms.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +With much ado, I am got loose from those fair</p> +<span class="pagenum">128</span> +<p>Fetters, but not from those of her Beauty;</p> +<p>By these she still inflames me,</p> +<p>In spite of all my humours of Inconstancy;</p> +<p>So soft and young, so fair and innocent,</p> +<p>So full of Air, and yet of Languishment;</p> +<p>So much of Nature in her Heart and Eyes,</p> +<p>So timorous and so kind without disguise:</p> +<p>Such untaught Sweets in every part do move,</p> +<p>As ’gainst my Reason does compel my Love;</p> +<p>Such artless smiles, look so unorder’d too,</p> +<p>Gains more than all the charms of Courts can do;</p> +<p>From Head to Foot, a spotless Statue seems,</p> +<p>As Art, not Nature, had compos’d her Limbs;</p> +<p>So white, and so unblemish’d, oh <i>Curtius</i>!</p> +<p>I’m ravisht beyond Sense when I but think on’t;</p> +<p>How much more must my Surprize be,</p> +<p>When I behold these Wonders.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +And have you seen her, Sir, in all this Beauty?</p> +<p>Oh Hell! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>, I will not hide my Soul from thee;</p> +<p>I have seen all the marvels of that Maid.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Cur.</i> My Soul, learn now the Art of being disguis’d; +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—’Tis much, my Lord, that one</p> +<p>Bred in such simple Innocence,</p> +<p>Should learn so soon so much of Confidence:</p> +<p>Pray, Sir, what Arts and Cunning do you use?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Faith, time and importunity refuse no body.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Is that the way? had you no other Aids?</p> +<p>Made you no promise to her, Sir, of Marriage?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Oh, yes, in abundance, that’s your only bait,</p> +<p>And though they cannot hope we will perform it,</p> +<p>Yet it secures their Honour and my Pleasure.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Then, Sir, you have enjoy’d her?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Oh, yes, and gather’d Sweets</p> +<p>Would make an Anchoret neglect his Vow,</p> +<span class="pagenum">129</span> +<p>And think he had mistook his way to future bliss,</p> +<p>Which only can be found in such Embraces;</p> +<p>’Twas hard to gain, but, <i>Curtius</i>, when once Victor,</p> +<p>Oh, how the joys of Conquest did enslave me!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But, Sir, methinks ’tis much that she should yield,</p> +<p>With only a bare promise that you’d marry her.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Yes, there was something more—but—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But, what, Sir, you are not married.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Faith, yes, I’ve made a Vow,</p> +<p>And that you know would go as far with any other Man.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But she it seems forgot you were the Prince?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +No, she urg’d that too,</p> +<p>And left no Arguments unus’d</p> +<p>Might make me sensible of what I did;</p> +<p>But I was fixt, and overcame them all,</p> +<p>Repeating still my Vows and Passions for her,</p> +<p>Till in the presence of her Maid and Heaven</p> +<p>We solemnly contracted.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But, Sir, by your permission, was it well?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +What wouldst thou have him do</p> +<p>That’s all on fire, and dies for an Enjoyment?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But having gain’d it, do you love her still?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Yes, yes, extremely,</p> +<p>And would be constant to the Vows I’ve made,</p> +<p>Were I a Man, as thou art of thy self;</p> +<p>But with the aid of Counsels I must chuse,</p> +<p>And what my Soul adores I must refuse.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +This Passion, Sir, Possession will destroy,</p> +<p>And you’l love less, the more you do enjoy.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +That’s all my hope of cure; I’ll ply that game,</p> +<p>And slacken by degrees th’ unworthy flame.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Methinks, my Lord, it had more generous been</p> +<p>To’ve check’d that flame when first it did begin,</p> +<p>E’er you the slighted Victory had won,</p> +<p>And a poor harmless Virgin quite undone:</p> +<p>And what is worse, you’ve made her love you too.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">130</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Faith, that’s the greater mischief of the two;</p> +<p>I know to such nice virtuous Souls as thine,</p> +<p>My juster Inclination is a Crime:</p> +<p>But I love Pleasures which thou canst not prize,</p> +<p>Beyond dull gazing on thy Mistress Eyes,</p> +<p>The lovely Object which enslaves my Heart,</p> +<p>Must yet more certain Cures than Smiles impart:</p> +<p>—And you on <i>Laura</i> have the same design.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, Sir, when justify’d by Laws Divine.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Divine! a pleasant Warrant for your Sin,</p> +<p>Which being not made, we ne’er had guilty been.</p> +<p>But now we speak of <i>Laura</i>,</p> +<p>Prithee, when is’t that I shall see that Beauty?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Never, I hope<ins class="correction" title=". missing">. </ins> +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +I know not, Sir,</p> +<p>Her Father still is cruel, and denies me,</p> +<p>What she and I have long made suit in vain for:</p> +<p>But, Sir, your Interest might prevail with him,</p> +<p>When he shall know I’m one whom you esteem;</p> +<p>He will allow my flame, and my address,</p> +<p>He whom you favour cannot doubt Success.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +This day I will begin to serve thee in it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, ’twill be difficult to get access to her,</p> +<p>Her Father is an humorous old Man,</p> +<p>And has his fits of Pride and Kindness too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Well, after Dinner I will try my Power,</p> +<p>And will not quit his Lodgings till I’ve won him.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I humbly thank you, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Fred.</i> Come let us haste, the Day comes on apace. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Fred.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I’ll wait upon you, Sir.</p> +<p>Oh <i>Cloris</i>, thou’rt undone, false amorous Girl;</p> +<p>Was it for this I bred thee in obscurity,</p> +<p>Without permitting thee to know what Courts meant,</p> +<p>Lest their too powerful Temptation</p> +<p>Might have betray’d thy Soul?</p> +<p>Not suffering thee to know thy Name or Parents,</p> +<span class="pagenum">131</span> +<p><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag5" id="prince_texttag5" +href="#prince_textnote5">Thinking an humble Life</a> might have +secur’d thy Virtue:</p> +<p>And yet I should not hate thee for this Sin,</p> +<p>Since thou art bred in so much Innocence,</p> +<p>Thou couldst not dream of Falsity in Men:</p> +<p>Oh, that it were permitted me to kill this Prince,</p> +<p>This false perfidious Prince;</p> +<p>And yet he knows not that he has abus’d me.</p> +<p>When did I know a Man of so much Virtue,</p> +<p>That would refuse so sweet and soft a Maid?</p> +<p>—No, he is just and good, only too much misled</p> +<p>By Youth and Flattery;</p> +<p>And one to whom my Soul is ty’d by Friendship;</p> +<p>—Yet what’s a Friend, a name above a Sister?</p> +<p>Is not her Honour mine?</p> +<p>And shall not I revenge the loss of it?</p> +<p>It is but common Justice.</p> +<p>But first I’ll try all gentle means I may,</p> +<p>And let him know that <i>Cloris</i> is my Sister;</p> +<p>And if he then persevere in his Crime,</p> +<p>I’ll lay my Interest and my Duty by,</p> +<p>And punish him, or with my Honour die.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actI_sceneIII" id="prince_actI_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +The Apartment of <em>Antonio</em>.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em> pulling in of <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Nay, nay, <i>Isabella</i>, there’s no avoiding me now,</p> +<p>You and I must come to a parley.</p> +<p>Pray what’s the reason</p> +<p>You took no notice of me,</p> +<p>When I came with so civil an address too?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Can you ever think to thrive in an Amour,</p> +<p>When you take notice of your Mistress,</p> +<p>Or any that belongs to her, in publick,</p> +<p>And when she’s a married Woman too?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Good <i>Isabella</i>, the loser may have leave to speak,</p> +<p>I am sure it has been a plaguy dear Amour to me.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">132</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Let me hear you name that again,</p> +<p>And you shall miss of my Assistance.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Nay, do but hear me a little;</p> +<p>I vow ’tis the strangest thing in the World,</p> +<p>A Man must part from so much Money as I have done,</p> +<p>And be confin’d to Signs and Grimaces only,</p> +<p>To declare his Mind in:</p> +<p>If a Man has a Tongue, let him exercise it, I say,</p> +<p>As long as he pays for speaking.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Again with your paying for’t? I see you are not</p> +<p>To be reclaim’d; farewel—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Stay, good <i>Isabella</i>, stay,</p> +<p>And thou shalt hear not one word of that more,</p> +<p>Though I am soundly urg’d to’t.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Yes, yes, pray count them, do;</p> +<p>I know you long to be at it,</p> +<p>And I am sure you will find you are in Arrears to us.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Say you so, I am not of that opinion: but well,</p> +<p>—Let me see—here ’tis, here ’tis—</p> +<p>My Bill of Charge for courting <i>Clarina</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws out his Table Book, and reads.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And here’s mine for the returns that have been</p> +<p>Made you; begin, begin. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls out her Book.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +<i>Item</i>, two hundred Crowns to <i>Isabella</i> for undertaking.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Item</i>, I have promis’d <i>Lorenzo</i> to serve him</p> +<p>In his Amour with all Fidelity.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, I own that Debt paid, if you keep</p> +<p>Your word—out with it then— +<span class="stagedir"> +He crosses that out.</span></p> +<p><i>Item</i>, two thousand Crowns in a Bracelet for +<i>Clarina</i>;</p> +<p>What say you to that now, <i>Isabella</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Item</i>, the day after they were presented,</p> +<p>She saluted you with a smile at the Chappel.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +And dost thou think it was not dearly bought?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +No Man in <i>Florence</i> should have had it</p> +<p>A Souce cheaper.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">133</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Say you so, <i>Isabella</i>? out with it then. +<span class="stagedir"> +Crosses it out.</span></p> +<p><i>Item</i>, one hundred more to thee for presenting them.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Which I did with six lyes in your Commendation,</p> +<p>Worth ten Pistoles a piece for the exactness of a Lye;</p> +<p>Write there indebted to me—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Nay then thou dost deserve it:</p> +<p>Rest due to <i>Isabella</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Writes.</span></p> +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Item</i>, Innumerable Serenades, Night-walks, Affronts</p> +<p>And Fears; and lastly, to the Poets for Songs, and the like.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +All which was recompensed in the excessive</p> +<p>Laughing on you that Day you praunc’d under our</p> +<p>Window on Horse-back, when you made such a</p> +<p>Deal of <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag6" id="prince_commtag6" href="#prince_commnote6">Capriol</a> and Curvet.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Yes, where I ventur’d my Neck to shew my</p> +<p>Activity, and therefore may be well <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag6" id="prince_texttag6" href="#prince_textnote6">accompted</a></p> +<p>Amongst my Losses.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Then she receiv’d your Presents,</p> +<p>Suffer’d your Serenades, without sending her Foot-men</p> +<p>To break your Pate with the Fiddles.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Indeed that was one of the best Signs;</p> +<p>For I have been a great Sufferer in that kind</p> +<p>Upon the like occasions: but dost thou think</p> +<p>In Conscience that this should satisfy?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Yes, any reasonable Man in the World, for the</p> +<p>First Month at least; and yet you are still up</p> +<p>With your Expences, as if a Lady of her Quality</p> +<p>Were to be gain’d without them.</p> +<p>—Let me hear of your Expences more, and I’ll—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Oh sweet <i>Isabella</i>! upon my Knees</p> +<p>I beg thou wilt take no fatal Resolution;</p> +<p>For I protest, as I am a Man of Honour,</p> +<p>And adore thy Sex, thou shalt only see,</p> +<p>Not hear of my Expences more;</p> +<p>And for a small testimony of it, here take this;</p> +<p>There’s twenty Pistoles upon Reputation. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives her Money.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">134</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Fy, fy, ’tis not brave, nor generous to name</p> +<p>The Sum, you should have slid it into my Coat,</p> +<p>Without saying what you had done.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +What signifies that, mun, as long as ’tis current,</p> +<p>And you have it sure?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Well, leave the management of your Affairs to me—</p> +<p>What shall we do? here’s <i>Alberto</i>.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, who can help it? I cannot walk invisible.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, what, making Love to <i>Isabella</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +She’l serve, my Lord, for want of a better.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +That’s but a coarse Complement.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +’Twill serve to disguise a Truth however. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to her.</span> +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Isab.</em></span></p> +<p>Faith, I’ll tell you, Sir, ’twas such another Damsel</p> +<p>As this, that sav’d me five hundred Pound once upon a time;</p> +<p>And I have lov’d the whole Tribe of Waiting-women</p> +<p>The better ever since.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +You have reason; how was it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, look you, Sir,</p> +<p>I had made Love a long time to a Lady;</p> +<p>But she shall be nameless,</p> +<p>Since she was of a quality not to be gain’d under</p> +<p>The aforesaid Sum: well, I brought it,</p> +<p>Came pouder’d and perfum’d, and high in expectation.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Well, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +And she had a very pretty Wench, who was to</p> +<p>Conduct me, and in the dark too;</p> +<p>And, on my Conscience, I e’en fell aboard of her,</p> +<p>And was as well accommodated for my five,</p> +<p>As five Hundred Pounds, and so return’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +A great defeat to the Lady the while, <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag7" id="prince_texttag7" href="#prince_textnote7">a +my</a> word.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Ay, she smelt the Plot, and made a Vow to follow</p> +<span class="pagenum">135</span> +<p>The <i>Italian</i> mode for the future;</p> +<p>And be serv’d in Affairs of that kind by none</p> +<p>But an old Woman.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +’Twas wittily resolv’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Are you for the Presence this Morning?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +No, I have business here with <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Lor.</i> Your Servant, my Lord. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I do not like this Fellow’s being here,</p> +<p>The most notorious Pimp and Rascal in <i>Italy</i>;</p> +<p>’Tis a vile shame that such as he should live,</p> +<p>Who have the form and sense of Man about them,</p> +<p>And in their Action Beast;</p> +<p>And that he thrives by too.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>—<i>Isabella</i>, is <i>Antonio</i> stirring?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +He is, please your Lordship to walk in.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +You may tell him I wait here:</p> +<p>For I would avoid all opportunity of seeing <i>Clarina</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +My Lord, you need not stand upon Ceremonies. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Alberto</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Clarina</em> and <em>Ismena</em>, dress’d like one another in +every thing, laughing and beholding one another.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>—Dress’d already! now on my conscience</p> +<p>I know not which is which:</p> +<p>Pray God <i>Antonio</i> be not mistaken at night,</p> +<p>For I’ll be sworn I am by day-light.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Dost think I may pass thus for <i>Clarina</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Madam, you are the same to a hair;</p> +<p>Wou’d I might never stir</p> +<p>If I can do any thing but wonder.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +But hark, <i>Isabella</i>, if thou shou’dst have</p> +<p>Heard amiss, and that thy information should not be good,</p> +<p>Thou hast defeated us of a design,</p> +<p>Wherein we promise our selves no little pleasure.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">136</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Yes, I vow, all the Jest is lost if it be so.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Isab.</i> I doubt ’twill be a true Jest on your side. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—I warrant you, Madam, my Intelligence is good;</p> +<p>And to assure you of what I have said,</p> +<p>I dare undertake you shall hear the same over again:</p> +<p>For just now <i>Alberto</i> is come to visit my Lord,</p> +<p>Who I am sure will entertain him with no other stories,</p> +<p>But those of his Jealousy,</p> +<p>And to persuade him to court you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +’Tis strange, since he set him that Task so long ago,</p> +<p>He would not begin before.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Nay, pray God he begin now;</p> +<p>Sister, he has hitherto took me for thee,</p> +<p>And sometimes his Eyes give me hope of a secret</p> +<p>Fire within, but ’twill not out;</p> +<p>And I am so impatient till he declares himself,</p> +<p>That if he do not do it soon,</p> +<p>I shall e’en tell him who I am;</p> +<p>For perhaps the Wife takes off the appetite,</p> +<p>Which would sharpen upon knowledge of the Virgin.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +What then, you’ll have all the sport to your self?</p> +<p>—But, <i>Ismena</i>, remember my little Revenge on +<i>Antonio</i></p> +<p>Must accompany your Love to <i>Alberto</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +But why this resemblance?</p> +<p>For, Madam, since he never saw you,</p> +<p>And takes <i>Ismena</i> to be you;</p> +<p>Might you not still pass so, without this likeness?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Didst thou not say <i>Antonio</i> left the Court</p> +<p>And City, on purpose to give <i>Alberto</i> the more freedom</p> +<p>To Court me?—Whilst he was away, I needed but retire,</p> +<p>And <i>Ismena</i> appear, and ’twould suffice;</p> +<p>But now he is return’d,</p> +<p>He may chance to see them together, <i>en passant</i>, or so,</p> +<p>And this dress will abuse him as well as <i>Alberto</i>;</p> +<p>For without that, this Plot of ours signifies little.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">137</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Ay, truly, for my part, I have no other design</p> +<p>Than doing my Sister a service.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +The Plot is very likely to thrive I see,</p> +<p>Since you are so good at dissembling.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Fie, <i>Isabella</i>, what an ill opinion you have of me?</p> +<p>—But, Sister, ’tis much <i>Alberto</i> being so intimate</p> +<p>With <i>Antonio</i>, should never see you all this whole</p> +<p>Six Months of your being married.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Had you been bred any where</p> +<p>But in a Monastery, you would have known</p> +<p>’Tis not the custom here for Men to expose their</p> +<p>Wives to the view of any.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I hear them coming, let’s away,</p> +<p>And pray listen to the Truths I have already told you.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag8" id="prince_texttag8" href="#prince_textnote8">They retire.</a></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actI_sceneIV" id="prince_actI_sceneIV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene IV.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag9" id="prince_texttag9" href="#prince_textnote9">The Same.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em> and <em>Alberto</em>. <em>Clarina</em> and +<em>Ismena</em> listen.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Once more, <i>Antonio</i>, welcome back to Court.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Oh my dear Friend, I long’d for thy Embraces;</p> +<p>—How goes the Game I left with thee to play?</p> +<p>What says my Wife, my beautiful <i>Clarina</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Clarina!</i>—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Yes, <i>Clarina</i>, have you not seen her yet?</p> +<p>I left the Court on purpose, for ’twas not handsome</p> +<p>For me to introduce you,</p> +<p>Lest she had look’d upon’t as some design.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Seen her—yes—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +And I conjur’d her too, to give you freedoms</p> +<p>Even equal to <i>Antonio</i>;</p> +<p>As far as I durst press with modesty,</p> +<p>And with pretence of Friendship;</p> +<p>And have you not attempted her?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes—but ’tis in vain.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Ant.</i> Oh villanous Dissembler! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">138</span> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +She’s cruel, strangely cruel,</p> +<p>And I’m resolv’d to give the Courtship o’er.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Sure, Friend, thou hast not us’d thy wonted power.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes, all that I know I’m master of, I us’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +But didst thou urge it home? did she not see</p> +<p>Thy Words and Actions did not well agree?</p> +<p>Canst thou dissemble well? didst cry and melt,</p> +<p>As if the pain you but express’d, you felt?</p> +<p>Didst kneel, and swear, and urge thy Quality,</p> +<p>Heightning it too with some Disgrace on me?</p> +<p>And didst thou too assail her feeble side?</p> +<p>For the best bait to Woman is her Pride;</p> +<p>Which some mis-call her Guard:</p> +<p>Didst thou present her with the set of Jewels?</p> +<p>For Women naturally are more inclin’d</p> +<p>To Avarice, than Men: pray tell me, Friend.</p> +<p>—Vile Woman! did she take them—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I never ask’d her that.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Poor <i>Antonio</i>, how I pity him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +No!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +No, I’ve done enough to satisfy thy Jealousy.</p> +<p>Here, take your set of Jewels back again; +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives a Box.</span></p> +<p>Upon my Life <i>Clarina</i> is all Chastity.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I were the happiest Man on Earth, were this but true;</p> +<p>But what are single Courtships?—give her these,</p> +<p>Which will assist thy Tongue to win her Heart;</p> +<p>And that once got, the other soon will follow;</p> +<p>There’s far more Women won by Gold than Industry:</p> +<p>Try that, my dear <i>Alberto</i>,</p> +<p>And save thy Eyes the trouble of dissembling.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Content thee here, and do not tempt thy Fate,</p> +<p>I have regard unto thy Honour, Friend;</p> +<p>And should she yield, as Women are no Gods,</p> +<p>Where were thy future Joys?</p> +<p>What is’t could make thee happy, or restore</p> +<span class="pagenum">139</span> +<p>That true Contentment which thou hadst before?</p> +<p>Alas! thou tempt’st me too, for I am frail,</p> +<p>And Love above my Friendship may prevail.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +This will not do;</p> +<p>No, as thou art my Friend, and lov’st my Honour,</p> +<p>Pursue <i>Clarina</i> further;</p> +<p>Rally afresh, and charge her with this Present,</p> +<p>Disturb her every night with Serenades;</p> +<p>Make Love-Songs to her, and then sing them too;</p> +<p>Thou hast a Voice enough alone to conquer.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Alb.</i> Fool, <i>Antonio</i>! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Come, wilt thou undertake it once again?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I would not.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I am resolv’d to get this tryal made,</p> +<p>And if thou dost refuse thy Amity,</p> +<p>I’ll try a Friend more willing, though less faithful;</p> +<p>With thee my Wife and Honour too are safe,</p> +<p>For should she yield, and I by that were lost,</p> +<p>’Twere yet some ease,</p> +<p>That none but thou wert witness to’t.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Well, if it must be done, I’ad rather do’t,</p> +<p>Than you should be expos’d to th’ scorn of others.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Spoke like my noble Friend;</p> +<p>Come dine with her to day, for I must leave you,</p> +<p>And give you all the opportunity</p> +<p>A real Lover wishes with a Mistress.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +So we have heard enough. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Clar.</em> and <em>Ism.</em></span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Oh, were <i>Clarina</i> chaste, as on my Soul</p> +<p>I cannot doubt, more than that I believe</p> +<p>All Womankind may be seduc’d from Virtue;</p> +<p>I were the Man of all the World most bless’d</p> +<p>In such a Wife, and such a Friend as thou.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +But what if I prevail, <i>Antonio</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Then I’ll renounce my faith in Womankind,</p> +<p>And place my satisfaction in thy Amity.</p> +<p>—But see, she comes, I’ll leave you to your task.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">140</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ismena</em> and <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Antonio not yet gone—</p> +<p>This must secure me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls down her Veil.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +<a class="comm" name="prince_commtag7" id="prince_commtag7" href="#prince_commnote7"><i>Clarina</i>, why thus clouded?</a></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I see he has most happily mistaken.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I was going, Sir, to visit <i>Laura</i>—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +You must not go, I’ve business to the Duke,</p> +<p>And you must entertain my Friend till my return;</p> +<p>It is a freedom not usual here amongst Ladies,</p> +<p>But I will have it so;</p> +<p>Whom I esteem, I’ll have you do so too.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Sir, I am all obedience.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Antonio</em>, she pulls off her Veil; <em>Alberto</em> salutes +her with seeming lowness.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh, how my Soul’s divided</p> +<p>Between my Adoration and my Amity! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>Friendship, thou sacred band, hold fast thy Interest;</p> +<p>For yonder Beauty has a subtle power,</p> +<p>And can undo that knot, which other Arts</p> +<p>Could ne’er invent a way for.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em>, and listens at the Door.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I’ll see a little how he behaves himself. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +But she’s <i>Antonio’s</i> Wife; my Friend <i>Antonio</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>A Youth that made an Interest in my Soul,</p> +<p>When I had Language scarce to express my sense of it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Death! he speaks not to her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +So grew we up to Man, and still more <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag10" id="prince_texttag10" href="#prince_textnote10">fixt</a>;</p> +<p>And shall a gaudy Beauty,</p> +<p>A thing which t’other day I never saw,</p> +<p>Deprive my Heart of that kind Heat,</p> +<p>And place a new and unknown Fire within? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p><i>Clarina</i>, ’tis unjust.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Sir, did you speak to me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I have betray’d my self— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<span class="pagenum">141</span> +<p>Madam, I was saying how unjust it was</p> +<p><i>Antonio</i> should leave <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag11" id="prince_texttag11" href="#prince_textnote11">me alone</a> with a Lady,</p> +<p>Being certainly the worst to entertain them in the World.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +His Face assures me he speaks of no Love to her now.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Alas, he speaks not to me.</p> +<p>Sure <i>Isabella</i> was mistaken, who told me that he lov’d me.</p> +<p>—<i>Alberto</i>, if thou art oblig’d to me, +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>For what I have not yet observ’d in thee,</p> +<p>Oh, do not say my Heart was easily won,</p> +<p>But blame your Eyes, whose forces none can shun.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Not a word, what can he mean by this?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Sir, will you please to sit a while?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Madam, the inner Chamber is much better,</p> +<p>For there he may repose upon the Cushions</p> +<p>Till my Lord’s return; I see he is not well—</p> +<p>—And you are both sick of one Disease. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I thank you, here’s more Air,</p> +<p>—And that I need, for I am all on fire, +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>And every Look adds fuel to my flame.</p> +<p>—I must avoid those Eyes, whose Light misguides me:</p> +<p>—Madam, I have some business calls me hence,</p> +<p>And cannot wait my Friend’s return.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Antonio</i>, Sir, will think ’tis my neglect</p> +<p>That drove you hence; pray stay a little longer.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +You shall command me, if you can dispense</p> +<p>With so dull Company.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag12" id="prince_texttag12" href="#prince_textnote12">Ism.</a></span> +I can with any thing <i>Antonio</i> loves.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Alb</i>. Madam, it is a Virtue that becomes you;</p> +<p>For though your Husband should not merit this,</p> +<p>Your Goodness is not less to be admir’d;</p> +<p>But he’s a Man so truly worth your Kindness,</p> +<p>That ’twere a Sin to doubt</p> +<p>Your Passion for him were not justly paid.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Sir, I believe you, and I hope he thinks</p> +<p>That my opinion of him equals yours;</p> +<span class="pagenum">142</span> +<p>’Tis plain he loves me not; +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>Perhaps his Virtue, thinking me <i>Clarina</i>,</p> +<p>May hide the real Passion of his Soul.</p> +<p>Oh Love, what dangerous Paths thou mak’st us tread!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Cold, cold as Devotion, oh inhuman Friendship! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What shall I do next? I must either be rude,</p> +<p>And say nothing, or speak of Love to her;</p> +<p>And then, my Friend, thou’rt lost should I prevail,</p> +<p>And I’m undone should she not hear my Tale,</p> +<p>Which for the World I would not have her hear;</p> +<p>And yet I fear my Eyes too much declare.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Since he’s in so ill an Humour, let’s leave him,</p> +<p>I’m satisfy’d now that thou’rt mistaken. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Ismena</em> and <em>Isabella</em> unseen.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +But they shall gaze no more on hers,</p> +<p>Nor stray beyond the limits of a just Salute.</p> +<p>—I will my Honour to my Love prefer,</p> +<p>And my <i>Antonio</i> shall out-rival her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Looks about, and misses them.</span></p> +<p>—Ah, am I left alone! how frail is Man!</p> +<p>That which last Moment I resolv’d upon,</p> +<p>I find my Heart already disapprove,</p> +<p>And grieve her loss; can this be ought but Love?</p> +<p>My Soul’s dissatisfy’d now she is gone,</p> +<p>And yet but now I wish’d to be alone.</p> +<p>—Inform me, Love, who shares the better part,</p> +<p>Friendship, or thee, in my divided Heart. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em>, and stays him.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Whither in such haste?</p> +<p>Thou look’st e’en as sad as a Lover repuls’d,</p> +<p>I fear that Fate’s not thine.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Now for a lye to satisfy him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>Prithee discharge me of this toil of dissembling,</p> +<p>Of which I grow as weary as she’s of hearing it.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">143</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Indeed!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Sure thou hast a design to make her hate me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Do you think so in earnest, why, was she angry?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh! hadst thou seen her pretty blushing Scorn,</p> +<p>Which she would fain have hid,</p> +<p>Thou wouldst have pitied what I made her suffer.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Is’t possible!</p> +<p>And didst present her with the Box of Jewels?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +And kneel, and cry and swear, and—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +All, all.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I hardly gave thee time for so much Courtship,</p> +<p>—But you are sure she was displeased with it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Extremely.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Enough, <i>Alberto</i>; adieu to thee and Friendship.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What mean you?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Ask your own Guilt, it will inform thee best.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Thou canst not think <i>Clarina</i> has abus’d thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I do not think she has, nor have you try’d her;</p> +<p>In that you have not only disoblig’d me,</p> +<p>But now you would impose upon my Weakness</p> +<p>—Did I not see how unconcern’d you were,</p> +<p>And hardly paying her a due respect;</p> +<p>And when she even invited thee to speak,</p> +<p>Most rudely thou wert silent?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Be calm, <i>Antonio</i>, I confess my error,</p> +<p>And hate that Virtue taught me to deceive thee;</p> +<p>—Here, take my Hand,—</p> +<p>I’ll serve you in good earnest.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +And now I do believe thee,</p> +<p>Go—thou shalt lose no time, I must away,</p> +<p>My Soul’s in torment, till I am confirm’d</p> +<p>Of my <i>Clarina’s</i> Virtue;</p> +<p>I do believe thou hast a generous Shame,</p> +<p>For what thou’st said and done to me thy Friend.</p> +<p>For could I doubt thy Love, oh, how ridiculous</p> +<span class="pagenum">144</span> +<p>This act of mine would seem!</p> +<p>But ’tis to thee, as to my Soul I come,</p> +<p>Disputing every petty Crime and Doubt.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Antonio</i>, <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag13" id="prince_texttag13" href="#prince_textnote13">if there need an Oath +between us—</a></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +No, I credit thee; go in,</p> +<p>And prithee dress thy Eyes in all their Charms;</p> +<p>For this uncertainty disturbs me more,</p> +<p>Than if I knew <i>Clarina</i> were a—Whore.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt severally.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="prince_actII" id="prince_actII"> +ACT II.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actII_sceneI" id="prince_actII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +The Apartment of <em>Frederick</em>.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Frederick</em> with a Letter, and <em>Galliard</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Not allow me to speak to her, say ye, ’tis strange;</p> +<p>Didst say it was the Prince that sent thee?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag14" id="prince_texttag14" href="#prince_textnote14">Gal.</a></span> +My Lord, I did, but he says, he cares not for</p> +<p>A thousand Princes.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I am resolv’d I will see this Woman;</p> +<p>—Harkye, go back again and say— +<span class="stagedir"> +Whispers.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em> drunk.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Hah, the Prince—he must not see me</p> +<p>In this pickle; for I would not lose my Reputation</p> +<p>Of Wenching for this of Drinking;</p> +<p>And I am sure I cannot be excellent at both,</p> +<p>They are inconsistent.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Gal.</span> +I shall, my Lord. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Your Highness’s humble Servant.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Ha, ha, what, <i>Lorenzo</i> in debauch?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Now my Tongue will betray me:—</p> +<p>Faith, my Lord, I have took six, but am come briskly off;</p> +<p>By this hand, my Lord, I am Cock over five</p> +<p>Stout Rogues too, I can tell you, at this sport.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I did not think thou hadst had that Virtue.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I’ll tell you, Sir, ’tis necessary those of my</p> +<p>Office and Quality should have more Virtues</p> +<span class="pagenum">145</span> +<p>Than one to recommend them;</p> +<p>But to tell you truth, for now I am most apt for that,</p> +<p>I was drunk in mere Malice to day.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Malice, against whom, prithee?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, why, Sir, the humorous old Fellow,</p> +<p>My Father,</p> +<p>He will not hear reason from me when I am sober.</p> +<p>My Lord, you know <i>Curtius</i> is an honest Fellow,</p> +<p>And one of us too;</p> +<p>My Sister <i>Laura</i> is a good pretty Wench,</p> +<p>He loves her, and she likes him;</p> +<p>And because this testy old Blade has done himself,</p> +<p>Do you think I can bring him to consider?</p> +<p>No, not for my Life, he won’t consider, Sir;</p> +<p>And now am I got drunk to see how that will edify him.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +How! is <i>Laura</i>, the Mistress of <i>Curtius</i>, your Sister?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Yes, marry is she, Sir, at least by the Mother’s side;</p> +<p>And to tell you truth,</p> +<p>We are too good-natur’d to believe</p> +<p><i>Salvator</i> our Father.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Thy Sister, and Daughter to <i>Salvator</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +So said my Mother, but she was handsome;</p> +<p>And on my conscience liv’d e’en in such another</p> +<p>Debauch’d World as ’tis now, let them say</p> +<p>What they will of their primitive Virtue.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +May not I see this Sister of thine, <i>Lorenzo</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Yes, by <i>Venus</i>, shall you, Sir,</p> +<p><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag15" id="prince_texttag15" +href="#prince_textnote15">An</a> she were my Mother.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +But art sure thy Father will permit us?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +My Father permit us!</p> +<p>He may do what he will when I am sober,</p> +<p>But being thus fortify’d with potent Wine,</p> +<p>He must yield obedience to my Will.</p> +<p>Why, my Lord, I’ll tell you,</p> +<span class="pagenum">146</span> +<p>I’ll make him ask me blessing when I am in this</p> +<p>Almighty Power.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +And is thy Sister so very fine?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +The Girl is well, and if she were not my Sister,</p> +<p>I would give you a more certain Proof of my</p> +<p>Opinion of her;</p> +<p>She has excellent good Hair, fine Teeth,</p> +<p>And good Hands, and the best natur’d Fool—</p> +<p>Come, come, Sir, I’ll bring you to her,</p> +<p>And then I’ll leave you;</p> +<p>For I have a small Affair of Love to dispatch.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +This is a freedom that sutes not with the</p> +<p>Humour of an <i>Italian</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +No, faith, my Lord; I believe my Mother play’d</p> +<p>Foul play with some <i>Englishman</i>;</p> +<p>I am so willing to do you a good office to my Sister.</p> +<p>And if by her Humour you become of that opinion too,</p> +<p>I shall hope to render myself more acceptable</p> +<p>To you by that Franchise.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Galliard</em>, whispers.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Thou knowest my grateful Temper,</p> +<p>—No matter; here, carry this Letter to <i>Cloris</i>,</p> +<p>And make some excuse for my not coming this Evening. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him a Letter, and goes out with <em>Lorenzo</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Gal.</span> +So, poor Lass, ’tis a hundred to one if she be not</p> +<p>Lay’d by now, and <i>Laura</i> must succeed her:</p> +<p>Well, even <i>Frederick</i>, I see, is but a Man,</p> +<p>But his Youth and Quality will excuse him;</p> +<p>And ’twill be call’d Gallantry in him,</p> +<p>When in one of us, ’tis Ill-nature and Inconstancy.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag16" id="prince_texttag16" +href="#prince_textnote16">Exit.</a></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actII_sceneII" id="prince_actII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag17" id="prince_texttag17" +href="#prince_textnote17"><em>Antonio’s</em> House.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ismena</em> and <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Nay, Madam, ’tis in vain to deny it;</p> +<p>Do you think I have liv’d to these years,</p> +<span class="pagenum">147</span> +<p>And cannot interpret cross Arms, imperfect Replies,</p> +<p>Your sudden Weepings, your often Sighing,</p> +<p>Your melancholy Walks, and making Verses too?</p> +<p>And yet I must not say that this is Love.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Art thou so notable a Judge of it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I should be, or I am a very dull Scholar,</p> +<p>For I have lost the foolish Boy as many Darts,</p> +<p>As any Woman of my age in <i>Florence</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Thou hast paid dear for thy knowledge then.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +No, the <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag18" id="prince_texttag18" href="#prince_textnote18">hurt ones</a> did, the +other still made good, with very little</p> +<p>Pain on either side.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I must confess, I think it is not so hard to get</p> +<p>Wounds, as ’tis to get them cur’d again.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I am not of your opinion, nor ever saw that</p> +<p>Man who had not Faults to <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag19" id="prince_texttag19" href="#prince_textnote19">Cure</a>,</p> +<p>As well as Charms to kill.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Since thou’rt so good a Judge of Men,</p> +<p>Prithee tell me how thou lik’st <i>Alberto</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I knew ’twould come to this— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>Why, well, Madam.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +No more than so?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Yes, wondrous well, since I am sure he loves you,</p> +<p>And that indeed raises a Man’s Value.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Thou art deceiv’d, I do not think he loves me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Madam, you cannot but see a thousand Marks on’t.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Thou hast more Skill than I;</p> +<p>But prithee why does he not tell me so himself?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Oh Madam, whilst he takes you for <i>Clarina</i>,</p> +<p>’Twould shew his disrespect to tell his Love?</p> +<p>But when he knows <i>Ismena</i> is the Object,</p> +<p>He’ll tire you with the wish’d for story.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Ah, thou art a pleasing Flatterer.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Page</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Page.</span> +Madam, <i>Alberto</i> is without.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">148</span> +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Tell him I’m indispos’d, and cannot see him now.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Nay, good Madam, see him now by all means,</p> +<p>For I am sure my Lord <i>Antonio</i> is absent on purpose.</p> +<p>—Bid him come in, Boy.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Page</em>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Antonio</i>, Sir, is not return’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Madam, this Visit was not meant to him,</p> +<p>But by a Cause more pressing I am brought,</p> +<p>Such as my Passion, not My Friendship taught;</p> +<p>A Passion which my Sighs have only shewn,</p> +<p>And now beg leave my bashful Tongue may own.</p> +<p>The knowledge, Madam, will not much surprise,</p> +<p>Which you have gain’d already from mine Eyes;</p> +<p>My timorous Heart that way my Tongue would spare,</p> +<p>And tells you of the Flames you’ve kindled there:</p> +<p>’Tis long I’ve suffered under this Constraint,</p> +<p>Have always suffer’d, but ne’er made Complaint;</p> +<p>And now against my will I must reveal</p> +<p>What Love and my Respect would fain conceal.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +What mean you, Sir? what have you seen in me,</p> +<p>That should encourage this temerity?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +A world of Beauties, and a world of Charms,</p> +<p>And every Smile and Frown begets new harms;</p> +<p>In vain I strove my Passion to subdue,</p> +<p>Which still increas’d the more I look’d on you;</p> +<p>Nor will my Heart permit me to retire,</p> +<p>But makes my Eyes the convoys to my Fire,</p> +<p>And not one Glance you send is cast away.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Enough, my Lord, have you nought else to say?</p> +<p>The Plot’s betray’d, and can no further go; +<span class="stagedir"> +Smiles.</span></p> +<p>The Stratagem’s discover’d to the Foe;</p> +<p>I find <i>Antonio</i> has more Love than Wit,</p> +<p>And I’ll endeavour too to merit it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What you have said, I do confess is true,</p> +<p><i>Antonio</i> beg’d I would make love to you;</p> +<span class="pagenum">149</span> +<p>But, Madam, whilst my heart was unconfin’d,</p> +<p>A thousand ways the Treachery I declin’d—</p> +<p>But now, <i>Clarina</i>, by my Life I swear,</p> +<p>It is my own concern that brings me here:</p> +<p>Had he been just to you, I had suppress’d</p> +<p>The Flames your Eyes have kindled in my Breast;</p> +<p>But his Suspicion rais’d my Passion more,</p> +<p>And his Injustice taught me to adore:</p> +<p>But ’tis a Passion which you may allow,</p> +<p>Since its effects shall never injure you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +You have oblig’d me, Sir, by your Confession,</p> +<p>And I shall own it too at such a rate,</p> +<p>As both becomes my Duty to <i>Antonio</i>,</p> +<p>And my Respect to you; but I must beg</p> +<p>You’ll never name your Passion to me more,</p> +<p>That guilty Language, Sir, I must not hear:</p> +<p>—And yet your silence kills me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Very well dissembled. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I can obey you, Madam, though I cannot live,</p> +<p>Whilst you command me silence;</p> +<p>For ’tis a Flame that dares not look abroad</p> +<p>To seek for pity from another’s Eyes.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +How he moves me! if this were real now,</p> +<p>Or that he knew to whom he made this Courtship— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh, do not turn away as if displeas’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +No more, you’ve discompos’d my thoughts;</p> +<p>Be gone, and never let me see thy Face again.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Madam, I go, and will no more offend you,</p> +<p>—But I will look my last—farewel. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Pray, Madam, call him back, he may be desperate.</p> +<p>—My Lord, return—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>, tell me what you’d have me do.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Ah, Madam, do not put me to my choice,</p> +<p>For Lovers are unreasonable;</p> +<p>If I might name it, I would have you love me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Love you, and what would be the end of that?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">150</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I cannot tell, but wish you were inclin’d</p> +<p>To make a tryal, Madam;</p> +<p>I have no thought or wish beyond that Blessing,</p> +<p>And that once gain’d, sure I should ask no more.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Were I inclin’d to this, have you consider’d</p> +<p>The fatal Consequences which attend</p> +<p>The breach of Vows and Friendship?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Madam, <i>Antonio</i> first was false to you,</p> +<p>And not to punish that were such a Virtue</p> +<p>As he would never thank you for;</p> +<p>By all that’s good, till he prov’d so to you,</p> +<p>He had my Soul in keeping;</p> +<p>But this act makes me resolve</p> +<p>To recompense his Folly.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +You’ve found the easiest Passage to my Heart,</p> +<p>You’ve took it on the weakest side;</p> +<p>—But I must beg you will pretend no further.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Divine <i>Clarina</i>, let me pay my thanks</p> +<p>In this submissive Posture, and never rise, +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels.</span></p> +<p>Till I can gain so much upon your Credit,</p> +<p>As to believe my Passion tends no farther</p> +<p>Than to adore you thus—and thus possess you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kisses her hand, and bows.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Have not I dissembled finely, <i>Isabella</i>? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Yes, if you could make me believe ’tis so. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Rise, Sir, and leave me, that I may blush alone</p> +<p>For what I’ve parted with so easily;</p> +<p>Pray do not visit me again too soon,</p> +<p>—But use your own discretion, and be secret.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Madam, the blessed Secret here is lodg’d,</p> +<p>Which Time shall ne’er reveal to human Knowledge. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Alb.</em></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I’m glad he’s gone before <i>Antonio’s</i> return.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Laura</em> weeping.</p> + +<p>—What, <i>Laura</i>, all in Tears! the reason, pray.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">151</span> +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Madam, the Prince, conducted by my Brother,</p> +<p>About an Hour since made me a Visit;</p> +<p>The Man of all the World I would have shun’d,</p> +<p>Knowing his amorous and inconstant Temper.</p> +<p>—At his approach he blusht and started back,</p> +<p>And I with great amazement did the like.</p> +<p>With fear I lost all power of going from him.</p> +<p>As he had done of making his Address;</p> +<p>He gaz’d and wonder’d, and I gaz’d on him,</p> +<p>And from his silence I became amaz’d.</p> +<p>—My Brother stood confounded at our Postures,</p> +<p>And only by the motion of his Head</p> +<p>(Which now he turn’d to me, then on the Prince)</p> +<p>We knew that he had Life.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Well, how recover’d ye?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +The Prince then kneel’d, but could approach no nearer;</p> +<p>And then as if he’d taken me for some Deity,</p> +<p>He made a long disorder’d amorous Speech,</p> +<p>Which brought me back to Sense again:</p> +<p>But <i>Lorenzo</i> told him that I was a Mortal,</p> +<p>And brought him nearer to me,</p> +<p>Where he began to make such Vows of Love—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +What then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Then I am ruin’d—</p> +<p>To all I said he found a contradiction,</p> +<p>And my denials did but more inflame him;</p> +<p>I told him of the Vows I’ad made to <i>Curtius</i>,</p> +<p>But he reply’d that <i>Curtius</i> was a Subject.</p> +<p>But sure at last I’d won upon his Goodness,</p> +<p>Had not my Father enter’d,</p> +<p>To whom the Prince addrest himself;</p> +<p>And with his moving tale so won upon him,</p> +<p>Or rather by his Quality,</p> +<p>That he has gain’d his leave to visit me,</p> +<p>And quite forbids me e’er to speak to <i>Curtius</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">152</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Alas the day, is this all?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +All! can there be more to make me miserable?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I see no reason thou hast to complain:</p> +<p>Come, wipe your Eyes, and take a good Heart;</p> +<p>For I’ll tell thee a Story of my own,</p> +<p>That will let thee see I have much more cause to weep;</p> +<p>And yet I have a thousand little Stratagems</p> +<p>In my Head, which give me as many hopes:</p> +<p>This unlucky restraint upon our Sex,</p> +<p>Makes us all cunning; and that shall assist thee now</p> +<p>With my help, I warrant thee;</p> +<p>Come in with me, and know the rest.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +So, so, disguise it how you will,</p> +<p>I know you are a real Lover;</p> +<p>And that secret shall advance my Love-design.</p> +<p>Yes, Madam, now I will be serv’d by you,</p> +<p>Or you shall fail to find a Friend of me.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Isab.</em></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actII_sceneIII" id="prince_actII_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag20" id="prince_texttag20" +href="#prince_textnote20">The Street.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em> drunk, with a <em>Page</em>, and Musick, as in +the dark.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Here’s the Door, begin and play your best,</p> +<p>But let them be soft low Notes, do you hear? +<span class="stagedir"> +They play.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Musick at my Lodgings! it is <i>Alberto</i>;</p> +<p>Oh, how I love him for’t—if <i>Clarina</i> stand his</p> +<p>Courtship, I am made;</p> +<p>I languish between Hope and Fear.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Stay, Friend, I hear somebody. +<span class="stagedir"> +Musick ceases.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +’Tis nobody, Sir.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +’Tis <i>Lorenzo</i>, and my Plot’s ripe; +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Lorenzo</em> <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag21" id="prince_texttag21" href="#prince_textnote21">being retir’d</a> the +while a little further.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +’Twill not sure be hard to get him, under pretence</p> +<span class="pagenum">153</span> +<p>Of seeing <i>Clarina</i>, into my Chamber,</p> +<p>And then I’ll order him at my pleasure;</p> +<p><i>Ismena</i> is on my side, for I know all her Secrets,</p> +<p>And she must wink at mine therefore. +<span class="stagedir"> +She retires.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Thou art in the right, Boy,</p> +<p>I think indeed ’twas nothing. +<span class="stagedir"> +Plays again.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +She yields, bad Woman!</p> +<p>Why so easily won?</p> +<p>By me too, who am thy Husband’s Friend:</p> +<p>Oh dangerous Boldness! unconsidering Woman!</p> +<p>I lov’d thee, whilst I thought thou couldst not yield;</p> +<p>But now that Easiness has undone thy Interest in my Heart,</p> +<p>I’ll back, and tell thee that it was to try thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +No, no, ’twas my Fears, away with the Song,</p> +<p>I’ll take it on your word that ’tis fit for my purpose.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fid.</span> +I’ll warrant you, my Lord.</p> +</div> + + +<h5>SONG.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">In</span> vain I have labour’d the Victor +to prove</p> +<p>Of a Heart that can ne’er give attendance to Love;</p> +<p class="indent4">So hard to be done.</p> +<p class="indent4">That nothing so young</p> +<p>Could e’er have resisted a Passion so long.</p> + +<p class="stanza"> +Yet nothing I left unattempted or said,</p> +<p>That might soften the Heart of this pitiless Maid;</p> +<p class="indent4">But still she was shy,</p> +<p class="indent4">And would blushing deny,</p> +<p>Whilst her willinger Eyes gave her Language the lye.</p> + +<p class="stanza"> +Since, <em>Phillis</em>, my Passion you vow to despise,</p> +<p>Withdraw the false Hopes from your flattering Eyes:</p> +<p class="indent4">For whilst they inspire</p> +<p class="indent4">A resistless vain Fire,</p> +<p>We shall grow to abhor, what we now do admire.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Musick</em>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">154</span> +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What’s this, and at <i>Clarina’s</i> Lodgings too?</p> +<p>Sure ’tis <i>Antonio</i>, impatient of delay,</p> +<p>Gives her a Serenade for me.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +’Tis the Fool himself—</p> +<p>My Lord, where are you?</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +How! a Woman’s Voice! ’tis dark, I’ll advance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Thou Simpleton, I told thee there was somebody.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +Lord, Sir, ’tis only <i>Isabella</i> that calls you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Away, Sirrah, I find by my fears ’tis no Woman. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out with the <em>Page</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Why don’t you come? here’s nobody.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Here I am.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Where?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Here. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives her his Hand.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +My Lord, you may venture, <i>Clarina</i> will be</p> +<p>Alone within this Hour, where you shall entertain</p> +<p>Her at your freedom: but you must stay awhile in my</p> +<p>Chamber till my Lord’s a bed;</p> +<p>For none but I must know of the favour she designs you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh Gods! what Language do I hear—</p> +<p>False and Perfidious Woman, I might have thought,</p> +<p>Since thou wert gain’d so easily by me,</p> +<p>Thou wouldst with equal haste yield to another.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +It is not <i>Lorenzo</i>, what shall I do? +<span class="stagedir"> +She steals in.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em> and <em>Page</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Pox of all damn’d cowardly fear!</p> +<p>Now did I think I had drunk Nature up to Resolution:</p> +<p>I have heard of those that could have dar’d in their Drink;</p> +<p>But I find, drunk or sober, ’tis all one in me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +The Traitor’s here,</p> +<p>Whom I will kill whoe’er he be.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Boy, go see for <i>Isabella</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag22" id="prince_texttag22" href="#prince_textnote22">Pag.</a></span> +I see a Man should not be a Coward and a Lover</p> +<p>At once—<i>Isabella</i>, <i>Isabella</i>, she’s gone, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Calls.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">155</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes, Villain, she’s gone, and in her room</p> +<p>Is one that will chastise thy Boldness.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +That’s a proud word though, whoe’er thou be;</p> +<p>But how I shall avoid it, is past my Understanding.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Where art thou, Slave? +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Alberto</em> gropes for him, he avoids him.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +Take heart, Sir, here’s company which I will</p> +<p>Get to assist you—</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em>.</p> + +<p>Sir, as you are a Gentleman, assist a stranger set upon by +Thieves.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +They fight, <em>Antonio</em> with <em>Alberto</em>, <em>Alberto</em> +falls, is wounded. <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag23" id="prince_texttag23" href="#prince_textnote23"><em>Lor.</em> and +<em>Page</em> run</a> away the while.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Whoe’er thou be’st that takes the Traitor’s part,</p> +<p>Commend me to the wrong’d <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>! dear <i>Alberto</i>, is it thee?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Antonio!</i></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I am asham’d to say I am <i>Antonio</i>;</p> +<p>Oh Gods, why would you suffer this mistake?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I am not wounded much,</p> +<p>My greatest pain is my concern for thee;</p> +<p>Friend, thou art wrong’d, falsely and basely wrong’d;</p> +<p><i>Clarina</i>, whom you lov’d and fear’d,</p> +<p>Has now betray’d thy Honour with her own.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Without that sad addition to my Grief,</p> +<p>I should not long have born the weight of Life,</p> +<p>Having destroy’d thine by a dire mistake.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Thou art deceiv’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Alas, why was it not permitted me</p> +<p>To lose my Friend, or Wife? had one surviv’d,</p> +<p>I might have dy’d in silence for the other;</p> +<p>Oh my <i>Alberto</i>! oh <i>Clarina</i> too!— +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Come, do not grieve for me, I shall be well,</p> +<p>I yet find strength enough to get away;</p> +<p>And then I’ll let thee know my Fate and thine.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">156</span> +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actII_sceneIV" id="prince_actII_sceneIV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene IV.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag24" id="prince_texttag24" +href="#prince_textnote24"><em>Antonio’s</em> House.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Clarina</em>, <em>Ismena</em>, and <em>Isabella</em> +weeping.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +For Heaven sake, Madam, pardon me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Be dumb for ever, false and treacherous Woman,</p> +<p>Was there no way but this to mask your Cheat?</p> +<p>A Lye which has undone us all.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Alas, ’twas in the dark, how could I know him?</p> +<p>Pray forgive it me, and try my future Service.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +I never will forgive thee, naughty Girl;</p> +<p><i>Alberto</i> now incens’d will tell <i>Antonio</i> all.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +What need you care, Madam?</p> +<p>You are secure enough.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Thou salv’st an Error with a greater still;</p> +<p>Dost thou not know <i>Antonio’s</i> Jealousy,</p> +<p>Which yet is moderate, rais’d to a higher pitch,</p> +<p>May ruin me, <i>Ismena</i>, and thy self?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Sister, there cannot be much harm in this;</p> +<p>’Tis an ill chance, ’tis true, for by it we have lost</p> +<p>The pleasure of an innocent Revenge</p> +<p>Upon <i>Antonio</i>; but if understood,</p> +<p>We have but miss’d that end.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Oh <i>Ismena!</i></p> +<p>This Jealousy is an unapprehensive madness,</p> +<p>A non-sense which does still abandon Reason.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Madam, early in the Morning</p> +<p>I’ll to <i>Alberto’s</i> Lodgings, and tell him the mistake.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +’Twill be too late.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Sister, what think you if I go myself?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +You should not be so daring;</p> +<p>Besides, I blush to think what strange opinion</p> +<p>He’ll entertain of me the while.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Do not let that afflict you.</p> +<p>Fetch my Veil, and if <i>Antonio</i> chance to ask for me,</p> +<p>Tell him I’m gone to <i>Laura</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Isab.</em></span></p> +<p>Believe me, I will set all strait again.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">157</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em> with the Veil.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Thou hast more Courage, Girl, than I.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +What need is there of much of that,</p> +<p>To encounter a gay young Lover,</p> +<p>Where I am sure there cannot be much danger?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +Well, take your chance, I wish you luck, Sir,</p> +<p>For I am e’en as much bent upon Revenge,</p> +<p>As thou art upon Marriage.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Come, my Veil, this and the Night</p> +<p>Will enough secure me. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag25" id="prince_texttag25" +href="#prince_textnote25">Puts on the Veil</a> and goes +out.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Clar.</em> and <em>Isab.</em></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actII_sceneV" id="prince_actII_sceneV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene V.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag26" id="prince_texttag26" +href="#prince_textnote26">A Chamber in <em>Alberto’s</em> +House.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Discovers <em>Alberto</em> and <em>Antonio</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Nay, thou shalt see’t before thou dost revenge it;</p> +<p>In such a case, thy self should be the Witness,</p> +<p>She knows not what has past to night between us,</p> +<p>Nor should she, if thou couldst contain thy Rage;</p> +<p>And that, <i>Antonio</i>, you shall promise me:</p> +<p>To morrow place thy self behind the Arras,</p> +<p>And from thy Eyes thy own Misfortunes know.</p> +<p>—What will not disobliged Passion do? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I’ll hide my Anger in a seeming calm,</p> +<p>And what I have to do consult the while,</p> +<p>And mask my Vengeance underneath a Smile. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Ant.</em></span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Page</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +My Lord, there is without a Lady</p> +<p>Desires to speak with you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Who is’t?</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Pag.</span> +I know not, Sir, she’s veiled. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag27" id="prince_texttag27" +href="#prince_textnote27">Exit <em>Page</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ismena</em> weeping.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Conduct her in.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Oh <i>Alberto</i>, <i>Isabella</i> has undone us all!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +She weeps, and looks as innocent!</p> +<p>—What mean you, false dissembling <i>Clarina</i>?</p> +<span class="pagenum">158</span> +<p>What, have you borrow’d from Deceit new Charms,</p> +<p>And think’st to fool me to a new belief?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +How, Sir, can you too be unkind?</p> +<p>Nay then ’tis time to die; alas, there wanted but your credit</p> +<p>To this mistake, to make me truly miserable.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What Credit? What Mistake? oh, undeceive me,</p> +<p>For I have done thee Injuries past Forgiveness,</p> +<p>If thou be’st truly innocent.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +If <i>Isabella</i>, under pretence of courting me</p> +<p>For <i>Lorenzo</i>, whom she designs to</p> +<p>Make a Husband,</p> +<p>Has given him freedoms will undo my Honour,</p> +<p>If not prevented soon.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +May I credit this, and that it was not by thy</p> +<p>Command she did it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Be witness, Heaven, my Innocence in this,</p> +<p>Which if <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag28" id="prince_texttag28" href="#prince_textnote28">you will believe</a>, I’m +safe again.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I do believe thee, but thou art not safe,</p> +<p>Here, take this Poyniard, and revenge thy Wrongs,</p> +<p>Wrongs which I dare not beg a Pardon for. +<span class="stagedir"> +He gives her a Dagger.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Why, Sir, what have you done? have you</p> +<p>Deceiv’d me, and do you not indeed love me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh <i>Clarina!</i> do not ask that Question,</p> +<p>Too much of that has made me ruin thee;</p> +<p>It made me jealous, drunk with Jealousy,</p> +<p>And then I did unravel all my Secrets.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +What Secrets, Sir? you have then seen <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Hah—Now, Wit, if e’er thou did’st possess</p> +<p>A Woman, assist her at her need. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—Well, Sir, rise and tell me all.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I will not rise till you have pardoned me,</p> +<p>Or punished my Misfortune.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Be what it will, I do forgive it thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Antonio</i>, Madam, knows my Happiness,</p> +<span class="pagenum">159</span> +<p>For in my Rage I told him that you lov’d me;</p> +<p>—What shall I do?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I cannot blame you though it were unkind.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +This I could help, but I have promis’d him,</p> +<p>That he shall be a witness of this Truth;</p> +<p>What say you, Madam, do I not merit Death?</p> +<p>Oh speak, and let me know my doom whate’er it be.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Make good your Word.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What mean you?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +What you have promised him, perform as you intended.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Then come as you design’d to visit me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +But let me know what ’tis you mean to do,</p> +<p>That I may act accordingly.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +No. Answer me to every Question ask’d,</p> +<p>And I perhaps may set all strait again;</p> +<p>It is now late, and I must not be missing:</p> +<p>But if you love me, be no more jealous of me,</p> +<p>—Farewel.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Must I be ignorant then of your Design?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Yes, <i>Alberto</i>;</p> +<p>And you shall see what Love will make a Woman do. +<span class="stagedir"> +He leads her out.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Now am I caught again, inconstant Nature.</p> +<p>—Would she had less of Beauty or of Wit,</p> +<p>Or that <i>Antonio</i> did but less deserve her;</p> +<p>Or that she were not married,</p> +<p>Or I’ad less Virtue, for ’tis that which awes me.</p> +<p>That tender sense of nothing,</p> +<p>And makes the other Reasons seem as Bugbears.</p> +<p>—I love <i>Clarina</i> more than he can do.</p> +<p>And yet this Virtue doth oppose that Love,</p> +<p>Tells me there lurks a Treason there</p> +<p>Against <i>Antonio’s</i> and <i>Clarina’s</i> Virtue.</p> +<p>—’Tis but too true indeed, and I’m not safe,</p> +<span class="pagenum">160</span> +<p>Whilst I conceal the Criminal within:</p> +<p>I must reveal it, for whilst I hide the Traitor,</p> +<p>I seem to love the Treason too;</p> +<p>I will resign it then, since ’tis less blame</p> +<p>To perish by my Pain, than live with Shame.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="prince_actIII" id="prince_actIII"> +ACT III.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIII_sceneI" id="prince_actIII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag29" id="prince_texttag29" +href="#prince_textnote29">A Room in <em>Salvator’s</em> +House.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Frederick</em> and <em>Laura</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Laura</i>, consider well my Quality,</p> +<p>And be not angry with your Father’s Confidence,</p> +<p>Who left us here alone.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +He will repent that Freedom when he knows</p> +<p>What use you’ve made on’t, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Fy, fy, <i>Laura</i>, a Lady bred at Court, and</p> +<p>Yet want complaisance enough to entertain</p> +<p>A Gallant in private! this coy Humour</p> +<p>Is not <i>à-la-mode</i>.—Be not so peevish with a Heart that +dies for you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Pray tell me, Sir, what is’t in me that can</p> +<p>Encourage this?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +That which is in all lovely Women, <i>Laura</i>;</p> +<p>A thousand Blushes play about your Cheeks,</p> +<p>Which shows the briskness of the Blood that warms them.</p> +<p>—If I but tell you how I do adore you,</p> +<p>You strait decline your Eyes;</p> +<p>Which does declare you understand my meaning,</p> +<p>And every Smile or Frown betrays your thoughts,</p> +<p>And yet you cry, you do not give me cause.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maid</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>, Madam, waits without.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I do not like his haste,</p> +<p>—Tell him he cannot be admitted now.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">161</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Sir, he is one that merits better treatment from you;</p> +<p>How can you injure thus the Man you love?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Oh Madam, ask your Eyes, those powerful Attracts.</p> +<p>And do not call their Forces so in question,</p> +<p>As to believe they kindle feeble Fires,</p> +<p>Such as a Friendship can surmount. No, <i>Laura</i>,</p> +<p>They’ve done far greater Miracles.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Sir, ’tis in vain you tell me of their Power,</p> +<p>Unless they could have made a nobler Conquest</p> +<p>Than Hearts that yield to every petty Victor.</p> +<p>—Look on me well,</p> +<p>Can nothing here inform you of my Soul,</p> +<p>And how it scorns to treat on these Conditions? +<span class="stagedir"> +Looks on him, he gazes with a half Smile.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Faith, no, <i>Laura</i>.</p> +<p>I see nothing there but wondrous Beauty,</p> +<p>And a deal of needless Pride and Scorn,</p> +<p>And such as may be humbled.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Sir, you mistake, that never can abate.</p> +<p>But yet I know your Power may do me injuries;</p> +<p>But I believe <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag30" id="prince_texttag30" href="#prince_textnote30">you’re</a> guilty of no +Sin,</p> +<p>Save your Inconstancy, which is sufficient;</p> +<p>And, Sir, I beg I may not be the first +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels and weeps.</span></p> +<p>May find new Crimes about you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Rise, <i>Laura</i>, thou hast but too many Beauties,</p> +<p>Which pray be careful that you keep conceal’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +I humbly thank you, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Fred.</i>—But why should this interposing Virtue check me?</p> +<p>—Stay, <i>Laura</i>, tell me; must you marry +<i>Curtius</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Yes, Sir, I must.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Laura</i>, you must not.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +How, Sir!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">162</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I say you shall not marry him,</p> +<p>Unless you offer up a Victim,</p> +<p>That may appease the Anger you have rais’d in me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +I’ll offer up a thousand Prayers and Tears.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +That will not do.</p> +<p>Since thou’st deny’d my just Pretensions to thee,</p> +<p>No less than what I told you of shall satisfy me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Oh, where is all your Honour and your Virtue?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Fred</i>. Just where it was, there’s no such real thing.</p> +<p>I know that thou wert made to be possest,</p> +<p>And he that does refuse it, loves thee least.</p> +<p>—There’s danger in my Love, and your Delay,</p> +<p>And you are most secure whilst you obey. +<span class="stagedir"> +He pulls her gently.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Then this shall be my safety, hold off, +<span class="stagedir"> +She draws a Dagger.</span></p> +<p>Or I’ll forget you are my Prince. +<span class="stagedir"> +He laughs.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Pretty <i>Virago</i>, how you raise my Love?</p> +<p>—I have a Dagger too; what will you do? +<span class="stagedir"> +Shows her a Dagger.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘Curtuis’"><em>Curtius</em></ins>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +How! the Prince! arm’d against <i>Laura</i> too! +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Traitor, dost draw upon thy Prince?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Your Pardon, Sir, I meant it on a Ravisher,</p> +<p>A foul misguided Villain, +<span class="stagedir"> +Bows.</span></p> +<p>One that scarce merits the brave name of Man;</p> +<p>One that betrays his Friend, forsakes his Wife,</p> +<p>And would commit a Rape upon my Mistress.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Her Presence is thy Safety, be gone and leave me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +By no means, Sir; the Villain may return,</p> +<p>To which fair <i>Laura</i>, should not be expos’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Slave, dar’st thou disobey? +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to fight.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Hold, Sir, and do not make me guilty of a Sin,</p> +<p>Greater than that of yours.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">163</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Salvator</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Salv.</span> +Gods pity me; here’s fine doings!—Why, how</p> +<p>Came this roistring Youngster into my House? Sir,</p> +<p>Who sent for you, hah?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Love.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Salv.</span> +Love, with a Witness to whom? my Daughter?</p> +<p>—No, Sir, she’s otherwise dispos’d of I can assure</p> +<p>You. Be gone and leave my House, and that quickly</p> +<p>Too; and thank me that I do not secure</p> +<p>Thee for a Traitor.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Will you not hear me speak?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Salv.</span> +Not a word, Sir, go, be gone; unless your</p> +<p>Highness will have him apprehended. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Fred.</em></span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +No, Sir, it shall not need—<i>Curtius</i>, look</p> +<p>To hear from me.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Comes up to him, and tells him so in a menacing Tone, and go out +severally.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Salv.</span> +Go, Mrs. <i>Minks</i>, get you in.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Salv.</em> and <em>Lau.</em></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIII_sceneII" id="prince_actIII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag31" id="prince_texttag31" +href="#prince_textnote31">A Street.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Frederick</em> passing in Anger over the Stage, meets +<em>Lorenzo</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +O Sir, I’m glad I’ve found you; for</p> +<p>I have the rarest News for you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +What News?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Oh the Devil, he’s angry;—Why, Sir, the prettiest young—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +There’s for your Intelligence. +<span class="stagedir"> +Strikes him, and goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +So, very well; how mortal is the favour of</p> +<p>Princes! these be turns of State now; what the</p> +<p>Devil ails he trow; sure he could not be</p> +<p>Offended with the News I have brought him;</p> +<p>If he be, he’s strangely out of tune:</p> +<span class="pagenum">164</span> +<p>And sure he has too much Wit to grow virtuous at these</p> +<p>Years. No, no, he has had some repulse from a</p> +<p>Lady; and that’s a wonder; for he has a Tongue and a</p> +<p>Purse that seldom fails: if Youth and Vigour would</p> +<p>Stretch as far, he were the wonder of the Age.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Curtius</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, didst thou see the Prince?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Marry, did I, and feel him too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Why, did he strike you?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I’m no true Subject if he did not; and that</p> +<p>Only for doing that Service which once was most acceptable</p> +<p>To him.—Prithee what’s the matter with him, hah?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I know not, leave me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Leave thee, what, art thou out of humour too?</p> +<p>Let me but know who ’tis has disoblig’d thee, and I’ll—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +What wilt thou?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Never see his Face more, if a Man.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +And what if a Woman?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Then she’s an idle peevish Slut, I’ll warrant her.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Conclude it so, and leave me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Nay, now thou hast said the only thing that could</p> +<p>Keep me with thee, thou mayst be desperate; I’ll</p> +<p>Tell you, <i>Curtius</i>, these female Mischiefs make Men</p> +<p>Take dangerous Resolutions sometimes.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>, I’ve something to deliver to your Ear. +<span class="stagedir"> +Whispers.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<a class="comm" name="prince_commtag8" id="prince_commtag8" href="#prince_commnote8">Any thing from <i>Alberto</i> is welcome.</a></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, I will be hang’d if there be not some</p> +<p>Mischief in agitation; it cannot be wenching;</p> +<p>They look all too dull and sober for that;</p> +<p>And besides, then I should have been a party concern’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +The place and time.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +An hour hence i’th’ Grove by the River-side.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">165</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Alone, thou say’st?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Alone, the Prince will have it so.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I will not fail a moment. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Alb.</em></span></p> +<p>—So this has eas’d my heart of half its Load.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I’ll sneak away, for this is some fighting</p> +<p>Business, and I may perhaps be invited a Second,</p> +<p>A Compliment I care not for. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, a word with you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +’Tis so, what shall I do now? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Stay.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I am a little in haste, my Lord.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I shall soon dispatch you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I believe so, for I am half dead already</p> +<p>With Fear. +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +—Sir, I have promis’d to make a visit</p> +<p>To a Lady, and—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +What I’ve to say will not detain you long.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +What a Dog was I, I went not</p> +<p>When he first desir’d me to go!</p> +<p>Oh Impertinency, thou art justly rewarded!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, may I believe you love me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Now what shall I say, Ay or no? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>The Devil take me if I know.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Will you do me a favour?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +There ’tis again. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I know I may trust thee with a secret.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Truly, <i>Curtius</i>, I cannot tell.</p> +<p>In some cases I am not very retentive.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I am going about a business, that perhaps</p> +<p>May take up all the time I have to live,</p> +<p>And I may never see thy Sister more;</p> +<p>Will you oblige me in a Message to her?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +You know you may command me;</p> +<p>—I’m glad ’tis no worse. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Come, go with me into my Cabinet,</p> +<p>And there I’ll write to <i>Laura</i>;</p> +<p>And prithee if thou hear’st that I am dead,</p> +<span class="pagenum">166</span> +<p>Tell her I fell a Sacrifice to her,</p> +<p>And that’s enough, she understands the rest.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +But harkye, <i>Curtius</i>, by your favour, this is but a Scurvy Tale to +carry to your Mistress;</p> +<p class="continue"> +I hope you are not in earnest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Yes! why, what a foolish idle humour’s this in you? I vow ’twill go near +to break the poor Girl’s Heart;—</p> +<p class="continue"> +Come, be advis’d, Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Perhaps I may consider on’t for that reason.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +There are few that go about such businesses,</p> +<p>But have one thing or other to consider in favour of Life;</p> +<p>I find that even in the most magnanimous:—</p> +<p>Prithee who is’t with?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +That’s counsel: and pray let this too which I have</p> +<p>Told you be a Secret, for ’twill concern your Life.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Good <i>Curtius</i>, take it back again then;</p> +<p>For a hundred to one but my over-care of keeping it</p> +<p>Will betray it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Thou lovest thy self better.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, that’s a comfort yet.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIII_sceneIII" id="prince_actIII_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +A Wood.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Cloris</em> dressed like a Country-Boy, follow’d by +<em>Guilliam</em> a Clown; <em>Cloris</em> comes reading a Letter.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<div class="ital"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +<span class="aside"><em>Reads.</em></span> +<em>Cloris</em>, beware of Men; for though I my self be one,</p> +<p>Yet I have the Frailties of my Sex, and can dissemble too;</p> +<p>Trust none of us, for if thou dost, thou art undone;</p> +<p>We make Vows to all alike we see,</p> +<p>And even the best of Men, the Prince,</p> +<p>Is not to be credited in an affair of Love.</p> +</div> +<p>—Oh <i>Curtius</i>, thy advice was very kind;</p> +<p>Had it arriv’d before I’ad been undone!</p> +<p>—Can <i>Frederick</i> too be false!</p> +<span class="pagenum">167</span> +<p>A Prince, and be unjust to her that loves him too?</p> +<p>—Surely it is impossible—</p> +<p>Perhaps thou lov’st me too, and this may be +<span class="stagedir"> +Pointing to the Letter.</span></p> +<p>Some Plot of thine to try my Constancy:</p> +<p>—Howe’er it be, since he could fail last night</p> +<p>Of seeing me, I have at least a cause to justify</p> +<p>This shameful change; and sure in this Disguise,</p> +<p>I shall not soon be known, dost think I shall? +<span class="stagedir"> +Looks on herself.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Why, forsooth, what do you intend to pass for,</p> +<p>A Maid or a Boy?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Why, what I seem to be, will it not do?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Yes, yes, it may do, but I know not what;</p> +<p>I would Love would transmography me to a Maid now,</p> +<p>—We should be the prettiest Couple:</p> +<p>Don’t you remember when you dress’d me up the last</p> +<p>Carnival, was I not the woundiest handsome Lass</p> +<p>A body could see in a Summer’s day?</p> +<p>There was <i>Claud</i> the Shepherd as freakish after me,</p> +<p>I’ll warrant you, and simper’d and tript it like any thing.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Ay, but they say ’tis dangerous for young</p> +<p>Maids to live at Court.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Nay, then I should be loth to give temptation.</p> +<p>—Pray, forsooth, what’s that you read so often there?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +An advice to young Maids that are in love.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Ay, ay, that same Love is a very vengeance thing,</p> +<p>Wou’d I were in love too; I see it makes a body valiant;</p> +<p>One neither feels Hunger nor Cold that is possest with it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Thou art i’th’ right, it can do Miracles.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +So it seems, for without a Miracle you and I could never</p> +<p>Have rambled about these Woods all night without either Bottle or +Wallet:</p> +<p>I could e’en cry for hunger now.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +What a dull Soul this Fellow hath?</p> +<span class="pagenum">168</span> +<p>Sure it can never feel the generous Pains</p> +<p>Of Love, as mine does now; oh, how I glory</p> +<p>To find my Heart above the common rate!</p> +<p>Were not my Prince inconstant,</p> +<p>I would not envy what the Blessed do above:</p> +<p>But he is false, good Heaven!— +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps. <em>Guil.</em> howls.</span></p> +<p>—What dost thou feel, that thou shouldst weep with me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Nothing but Hunger, sharp Hunger, forsooth.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Leave calling me forsooth, it will betray us.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +What shall I call you then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Call me, <i>Philibert</i>, or any thing;</p> +<p>And be familiar with me: put on thy Hat, lest any come and see +us.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +’Tis a hard name, but I’ll learn it by heart.</p> +<p>—Well, <i>Philibert</i>—What shall we do when we come to +Court? +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts on his Hat.</span></p> +<p>Besides eating and drinking, which I shall do in abundance.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +We must get each of us a Service:</p> +<p>—But thou art such a Clown.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Nay, say not so, honest <i>Philibert</i>: for look ye,</p> +<p>I am much the properer Fellow of the two. +<span class="stagedir"> +Walks.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Well, try thy fortune; but be sure you never discover</p> +<p>Me, whatever Questions may chance to be asked thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +I warrant thee, honest Lad, I am true and trusty;</p> +<p>But I must be very familiar with you, you say.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Yes, before Company.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Pray let me begin and practise a little now,</p> +<p>An’t please you, for fear I should not be saucy enough,</p> +<p>When we arrive at Court.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I’ll warrant you you’ll soon learn there.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Oh Lord, <i>Philibert! Philibert!</i> I see a Man a coming</p> +<p>Most deadly fine, let’s run away.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Thus thou hast serv’d me all this night,</p> +<p>There’s not a Bush we come at, but thou start’st thus.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">169</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +’Tis true you are a Lover, and may stay the danger on’t;</p> +<p>But I’ll make sure for one.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +It is the Prince, oh Gods! what makes he here?</p> +<p>With Looks disorder’d too; this Place is fit for Death and sad</p> +<p>Despair; the melancholy Spring a sleepy murmur makes,</p> +<p>A proper Consort for departing Souls,</p> +<p>When mix’d with dying Groans, and the thick Boughs</p> +<p>Compose a dismal Roof;</p> +<p>Dark as the gloomy Shades of Death or Graves.</p> +<p>—He comes this way, I’ll hide my self awhile. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes behind a Bush.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Frederick</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +But yet not this, nor my despight to <i>Laura</i>,</p> +<p>Shall make me out of love with Life,</p> +<p>Whilst I have youthful Fires about my Heart:</p> +<p>—Yet I must fight with <i>Curtius</i>,</p> +<p>And so chastise the Pride of that fond Maid,</p> +<p>Whose saucy Virtue durst controul my Flame.</p> +<p>—And yet I love her not as I do <i>Cloris</i>;</p> +<p>But fain I would have overcome that Chastity,</p> +<p>Of which the foolish Beauty boasts so.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>, I thank thee, now I do believe thee.</p> +<p><i>Guilliam</i>, if thou seest any fighting anon, +<span class="stagedir"> +The Prince walks.</span></p> +<p>Be sure you run out and call some body.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +You need not bid me run away, when I once</p> +<p>See them go to that.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Curtius</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, I am come as you commanded me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +When you consider what you’ve lately done,</p> +<p>You will not wonder why I sent for you;</p> +<p>And when I mean to fight, I do not use to parly:</p> +<p>Come draw.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">170</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Shew me my Enemy, and then if I am slow—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I am he, needst thou one more powerful?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +You, Sir! what have I done to make you so?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +If yet thou want’st a further proof of it,</p> +<p>Know I’ll dispute my Claim to <i>Laura</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +That must not be with me, Sir;</p> +<p>God forbid that I should raise my Arm against my Prince.</p> +<p>—If <i>Laura</i> have so little Faith and Virtue,</p> +<p>To render up that Right belongs to me,</p> +<p>With all my heart I yield her</p> +<p>To any but to you:</p> +<p>And, Sir, for your own sake you must not have her.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Your Reason?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, you’re already married.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Thou lyest, and seek’st excuses for thy Cowardice.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I wish you would recal that hasty Injury;</p> +<p>Yet this I’ll bear from you, who know ’tis false.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Will nothing move thee?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +You would believe so, Sir, if I should tell you,</p> +<p>That besides all this, I have a juster Cause.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Juster than that of <i>Laura</i>? call it up, then,</p> +<p>And let it save thee from a further shame.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, so I will, ’tis that of <i>Cloris</i>,</p> +<p>Who needs my aids much more;</p> +<p>Do you remember such a Virgin, Sir?</p> +<p>For so she was till she knew <i>Frederick</i>,</p> +<p>The sweetest Innocent that ever Nature made.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Not thy own Honour, nor thy Love to <i>Laura</i>,</p> +<p>Would make thee draw, and now at <i>Cloris’</i> Name</p> +<p>Thou art incens’d, thy Eyes all red with Rage:</p> +<p>—Oh, thou hast rouz’d my Soul!</p> +<p>Nor would I justify my Wrongs to her,</p> +<p>Unless it were to satisfy my Jealousy,</p> +<p>Which thou hast rais’d in me by this concern.</p> +<p>—Draw, or I’ll kill thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Stay, Sir, and hear me out.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">171</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I will not stay, now I reflect on all</p> +<p>Thy former kindness to her—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I will not fight, but I’ll defend my self. +<span class="stagedir"> +They fight.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +We are betray’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, Sir, and you are wounded. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Guil.</em> runs bawling out, they are both wounded.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Oh Heaven defend the Prince! +<span class="stagedir"> +She peeps.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I hear some coming, go, be gone,</p> +<p>And save thy self by flight. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Frederick</em> stands leaning on his Sword.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, give me leave to stay, my flight will look like Guilt.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +By no means, <i>Curtius</i>, thou wilt be taken here,</p> +<p>And thou shalt never charge me with that Crime of betraying</p> +<p>Thee: when we meet next, we’ll end it.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I must obey you then. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Cloris</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Sir, has the Villain hurt you? +<span class="stagedir"> +She supports him.</span></p> +<p>—Pray Heaven my Sorrows do not betray me now;</p> +<p>For since he’s false, I fain would die conceal’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—Shew me your Wound, and I will tie it up.</p> +<p>Alas, you bleed extremely.—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Kind Youth, thy Succours are in vain, though welcome;</p> +<p>For though I bleed, I am not wounded much.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +No? why did you let him pass unpunish’d then,</p> +<p>Who would have hurt you more?</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Guilliam</em> <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag32" id="prince_texttag32" href="#prince_textnote32">with +<em>Galliard</em></a>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Gal.</span> +Where was’t?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Look ye, Sir, there, don’t you see them?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Gal.</span> +How does your Highness? This Fellow told me</p> +<p>Of a quarrel here, which made me haste.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Be silent, and carry me to my own apartment.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">172</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Gal.</span> +Alas, Sir, is it you that fought?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +No more Questions.—</p> +<p>Kind Boy, pray leave me not till I have found</p> +<p>A way to recompense thy pretty care of me.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I will wait on you, Sir.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt all but <em>Guil.</em></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em> <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag33" id="prince_texttag33" href="#prince_textnote33">and his +<em>Page</em></a>. Peeps first.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +What’s the matter here? the Prince is wounded too.</p> +<p>Oh, what a Dog was I to know of some such thing,</p> +<p>And not secure them all? +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lor.</em> stands gazing at <em>Guil.</em> <em>Guil.</em> stands +<a class="comm" name="prince_commtag9" id="prince_commtag9" href="#prince_commnote9">tabering</a> his Hat, and scruing his +Face.</span></p> +<p>—What’s here? Ha, ha, ha, this is the pleasantest</p> +<p>Fellow that e’er I saw in my Life.</p> +<p>Prithee, Friend, what’s thy Name?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +My Name, an’t shall like ye.</p> +<p>My Name, it is <i>Guilliam</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +From whence comest thou?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +From a Village a great huge way off.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +And what’s thy business here, hah?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Truly, Sir, not to tell a Lye;</p> +<p>I come to get a Service here at Court.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Service at Court! ha, ha, that’s a pleasant</p> +<p>Humour, i’faith. Why, Fellow, what canst thou do?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Do, Sir! I can do any thing.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, what canst thou do? canst thou dress well?</p> +<p>—Set a Peruke to advantage, tie a Crevat,</p> +<p>And Cuffs? put on a Belt with dexterity, hah?</p> +<p>These be the Parts that must recommend you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +I know not what you mean,</p> +<p>But I am sure I can do them all.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Thou art confident it seems, and I can tell</p> +<p>You, Sirrah, that’s a great step to Preferment;</p> +<p>—But well, go on then, canst ride the great Horse?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +The biggest in all our Town</p> +<p>I have rid a thousand times.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">173</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +That’s well; canst fence?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Fence, Sir, what’s that?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Term we use for the Art and Skill of handling a Weapon.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +I can thrash, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +What’s that, Man?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Why, Sir, it is—it is—thrashing.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +An Artist, I vow; canst play on any Musick?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Oh, most rogically, Sir, I have a Bagpipe that</p> +<p>Every Breath sets the whole Village a dancing.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Better still; and thou canst dance, I’ll warrant?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Dance, he, he, he, I vow you’ve light on</p> +<p>My Master-piece, y’fegs.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +And I’ll try thee: Boy, go fetch some of the +<span class="stagedir"> +To the <em>Page</em>.</span></p> +<p>Musick hither which I keep in pay. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag34" id="prince_texttag34" +href="#prince_textnote34">Ex. <em>Page</em>.</a></span></p> +<p>—But hark you, Friend, though I love Dancing very well,</p> +<p>And that may recommend thee in a great degree;</p> +<p>Yet ’tis wholly necessary that you should be valiant too:</p> +<p>We Great ones ought to be serv’d by Men of Valour,</p> +<p>For we are very liable to be affronted by many here</p> +<p>To our Faces, which we would gladly have beaten behind</p> +<p>Our Backs.—But Pox on’t, thou hast not the Huff</p> +<p>And Grimace of a Man of Prowess.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +As for fighting, though I do not care for it,</p> +<p>Yet I can do’t if any body angers me, or so.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +But I must have you learn to do’t when</p> +<p>Any body angers me too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Sir, they told me I should have no need on’t</p> +<p>Here; but I shall learn.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, you Fool, that’s not a thing to be learn’d,</p> +<p>—That’s a brave Inclination born with Man,</p> +<p>A brave undaunted something, a thing that,</p> +<p>That comes from, from, I know not what,</p> +<p>For I was born without it.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">174</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Page</em> and Musick.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Oh, are you come? let’s see, Sirrah, your Activity,</p> +<p>For I must tell you that’s another step to Preferment. +<span class="stagedir"> +He dances a Jig <em>en Paisant</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +’Tis well perform’d; well, hadst thou but Wit,</p> +<p>Valour, <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag35" id="prince_texttag35" href="#prince_textnote35"><i>Bone Mine</i></a>, +good Garb, a Peruke,</p> +<p>Conduct and Secrecy in Love-Affairs, and half</p> +<p>A dozen more good Qualities, thou wert</p> +<p>Fit for something; but I will try thee.</p> +<p>Boy, let him have better Clothes; as for his Documents,</p> +<p>I’ll give him those my self.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Hah, I don’t like that word, it sounds terribly. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Page</em> and <em>Guil.</em> <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag36" id="prince_texttag36" href="#prince_textnote36">with Musick</a>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +This Fellow may be of use to me; being</p> +<p>Doubtless very honest, because he is so very simple:</p> +<p>For to say truth, we Men of Parts are sometimes</p> +<p>Over-wise, witness my last night’s retreat</p> +<p>From but a supposed Danger, and returning to fall</p> +<p>Into a real one. Well, I’ll now to <i>Isabella</i>,</p> +<p>And know her final Resolution; if <i>Clarina</i> will</p> +<p>Be kind, so; if not, there be those that will.</p> +<p>—And though I cannot any Conquest boast</p> +<p>For all the Time and Money I have lost,</p> +<p>At least of <i>Isabel</i> I’ll be reveng’d,</p> +<p>And have the flattering Baggage soundly swing’d;</p> +<p>And rather than she shall escape my Anger,</p> +<p>My self shall be the Hero that shall bang her.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="prince_actIV" id="prince_actIV"> +ACT IV.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIV_sceneI" id="prince_actIV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<em>Antonio’s</em> House.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ismena</em> and <em>Isabella</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Madam, turn your back to that side,</p> +<p>For there <i>Antonio</i> is hid; he must not see your</p> +<p>Face: now raise your Voice, that he may hear what ’tis you say.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">175</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I’ll warrant you, <i>Isabella</i>:</p> +<p>Was ever wretched Woman’s Fate like mine,</p> +<p>Forc’d to obey the rigid Laws of Parents,</p> +<p>And marry with a Man I did not love?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Oh, there’s my cause of Fear. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Ant.</em> peeps.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Though since I had him, thou know’st I have endeavour’d</p> +<p>To make his Will my Law,</p> +<p>Till by degrees and Custom, which makes things natural,</p> +<p>I found this Heart, which ne’er had been engag’d</p> +<p>To any other, grow more soft to him;</p> +<p>And still the more he lov’d, the more I was oblig’d,</p> +<p>And made returns still kinder; till I became</p> +<p>Not only to allow, but to repay his Tenderness.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +She counterfeits rarely. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>Madam, indeed I have observ’d this truth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +See who ’tis knocks. +<span class="stagedir"> +One knocks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +What will this come to? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Madam, ’tis <i>Alberto</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em>. Bows.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +My Lord, you’ve often told me that you lov’d me,</p> +<p>Which I with Womens usual Pride believ’d;</p> +<p>And now, encourag’d by my hopeful Promises,</p> +<p>You look for some Returns: Sir, is it so?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What means she?</p> +<p>Pray Heaven I answer right. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—Madam, if I have err’d in that belief,</p> +<p>To know I do so, is sufficient punishment.</p> +<p>—Lovers, Madam, though they have no returns,</p> +<p>Like sinking Men, still catch at all they meet with;</p> +<p>And whilst they live, though in the midst of Storms,</p> +<p>Because they wish, they also hope for Calms.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +And did you, Sir, consider who I was?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes, Madam, Wife unto my Friend <i>Antonio</i>,</p> +<p>The only Man that has an Interest here:</p> +<p>—But, Madam, that must still submit to Love.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">176</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Canst thou at once be true to him and me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Madam, I know not that;</p> +<p>But since I must lose one,</p> +<p>My Friendship I can better lay aside.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Hast thou forgot how dear thou art to him?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +No, I do believe I am, and that his Life</p> +<p>Were but a worthless trifle, if I needed it.</p> +<p>Yet, Madam, you are dearer to him still</p> +<p>Than his <i>Alberto</i>; and ’tis so with me:</p> +<p>—Him I esteem, but you I do adore;</p> +<p>And he whose Soul’s insensible of Love,</p> +<p>Can never grateful to his Friendship prove.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +By your example, Sir, I’ll still retain</p> +<p>My Love for him; and what I had for you,</p> +<p>Which was but Friendship, I’ll abandon too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Happy <i>Antonio</i>.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Pray what have you <i>Antonio</i> cannot own?</p> +<p>Has he not equal Beauty, if not exceeding thine?</p> +<p>Has he not equal Vigour, Wit, and Valour?</p> +<p>And all that even raises Men to Gods,</p> +<p>Wert not for poor Mortality?</p> +<p>—Vain Man, couldst thou believe</p> +<p>That I would quit my Duty to this Husband,</p> +<p>And sacrifice his Right to thee?</p> +<p>—Couldst thou believe me yesterday?</p> +<p>When from thy Importunity and Impudence,</p> +<p>To send thee from me,</p> +<p>I promised thee to love thee.</p> +<p>—Nay, rather, treacherous Man,</p> +<p>Couldst thou believe I <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag37" +id="prince_texttag37" href="#prince_textnote37">did not hate</a> +thee then,</p> +<p>Who basely would betray thy Friend and me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Sure this is earnest. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Oh brave <i>Clarina</i>! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Speak, Traitor to my Fame and Honour;</p> +<p>Was there no Woman, but <i>Antonio’s</i> Wife,</p> +<p>With whom thou couldst commit so foul a Crime?</p> +<span class="pagenum">177</span> +<p>And none but he to bring to publick Shame?</p> +<p>A Man who trusted thee, and lov’d thee too?</p> +<p>—Speak—and if yet thou hast a sense of Virtue,</p> +<p>Call to the Saints for pardon, or thou dy’st. +<span class="stagedir"> +She draws a Poniard, and runs at him; he steps back to avoid +it.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Hold, <i>Clarina</i>!—I am amaz’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +But stay.</p> +<p>Thou say’st my Beauty forc’d thee to this Wickedness,</p> +<p>And that’s the cause you have abus’d <i>Antonio</i>.</p> +<p>—Nor is it all the Power I have with him,</p> +<p>Can make him credit what I tell him of thee;</p> +<p>And should I live, I still must be pursu’d by thee,</p> +<p>And unbeliev’d by him:</p> +<p>—<i>Alberto</i>, thou shalt ne’er be guilty more,</p> +<p>Whilst this—and this may meet. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offering to wound her self, is stay’d by <em>Alb.</em> and +<em>Isab.</em> <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘they’">They</ins> set <em>Ism.</em> in a Chair; <em>Alb.</em> kneels +weeping.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Hold, my divine <i>Clarina</i>.—</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Shall I discover my self, or steal away? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>And all asham’d of Life after this Action,</p> +<p>Go where the Sun or Day may <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag38" id="prince_texttag38" href="#prince_textnote38">never</a> find me?</p> +<p>Oh! what Virtue I’ve abus’d—</p> +<p>Curse on my little Faith;</p> +<p>And all the Curses Madness can invent,</p> +<p>Light on my groundless Jealousy. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Antonio</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Clarina</i>, why so cruel to my Heart?</p> +<p>’Tis true, I love you, but with as chaste an Ardour,</p> +<p>As Souls departing pay the Deities,</p> +<p>When with incessant Sighs they haste away,</p> +<p>And leave Humanity behind. Oh! so did I</p> +<p>Abandon all the lesser <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag39" +id="prince_texttag39" href="#prince_textnote39">Joys</a> of +Life,</p> +<p>For that of being permitted but t’adore ye.</p> +<p>Alas, if ’twere displeasing to you,</p> +<p>Why did your self encourage it?</p> +<p>I might have languish’d, as I did before,</p> +<span class="pagenum">178</span> +<p>And hid those Crimes which make you hate me now.</p> +<p>—Oh, I am lost? <i>Antonio</i>, thou’st undone me; +<span class="stagedir"> +He rises in Rage.</span></p> +<p>—Hear me, Ungrate; I swear by all that’s good,</p> +<p>I’ll wash away my Mischief with thy Blood.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Antonio</i> hears you not, Sir, for he’s departed.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Is <i>Antonio</i> gone? +<span class="stagedir"> +She looks pertly up, who before lay half dead.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +How’s this, has she but feign’d?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag40" id="prince_texttag40" +href="#prince_textnote40">Know it was</a> but feign’d; I hope this +proof</p> +<p>Of what I’ve promis’d you, does not displease you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Am I thus fortunate, thus strangely happy?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Time will confirm it to you—go, do not</p> +<p>Now thank me for’t, but seek <i>Antonio</i> out;</p> +<p>Perhaps he may have too great a Sense of the</p> +<p>Mischiefs his Jealousies had like to have caus’d:</p> +<p>But conjure him to take no notice of what’s past to me;</p> +<p>This easy <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag41" id="prince_texttag41" href="#prince_textnote41">slight</a> of mine +secures our Fears,</p> +<p>And serves to make <i>Antonio</i> confident,</p> +<p>Who now will unbelieve his Eyes and Ears;</p> +<p>And since before, when I was innocent,</p> +<p>He could suspect my Love and Duty too,</p> +<p>I’ll try what my dissembling it will do.</p> +<p>—Go haste.—</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Madam, I go, surpriz’d with Love and Wonder. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Alb.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +You’ll be more surpriz’d, when you know +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>That you are cheated too as well as <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIV_sceneII" id="prince_actIV_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag42" id="prince_texttag42" +href="#prince_textnote42">A Street.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Curtius</em> disguis’d in a black Peruke and Beard, with +<em>Pietro</em> disguised also.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Well, what hast thou learn’d?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +News enough, Sir, but none good;</p> +<p>That the Prince’s Wounds are small,</p> +<span class="pagenum">179</span> +<p>So that he intends to take the Air this Evening;</p> +<p>That he sollicits <i>Laura</i> hard;</p> +<p>And, Sir, that you are proclaim’d Traitor.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +So, what says the Messenger you sent to <i>Cloris</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Sir, he brings sad tidings back.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +What tidings? is she dead?</p> +<p>That would revive my Soul,</p> +<p>And fortify my easy Nature with some wicked Notions,</p> +<p>As deep as those this flattering Prince made use of,</p> +<p>When he betray’d my Sister, pretty <i>Cloris</i>:</p> +<p>—Come, speak it boldly, for nothing else</p> +<p>Will make me do her Justice.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +No, Sir, she is not dead,</p> +<p>But fled, and none knows whither;</p> +<p>Only <i>Guilliam</i> attends her.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Worse and worse; but what of <i>Laura</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +She, Sir, is kept a Prisoner by her Father,</p> +<p>And speaks with none but those that come from <i>Frederick</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<i>Laura</i> confin’d too! ’tis time to hasten then,</p> +<p>With my, till now, almost disarmed Revenge:</p> +<p>—Thus I may pass unknown the Streets of <i>Florence</i>,</p> +<p>And find an opportunity to reach this Prince’s Heart,</p> +<p>—Oh, Vengeance! luxurious Vengeance!</p> +<p>Thy Pleasures turn a Rival to my Love,</p> +<p>And make the mightier Conquest o’er my Heart.</p> +<p>—<i>Cloris</i>, I will revenge thy Tears and Sufferings;</p> +<p>And to secure the Doom of him that wrong’d thee,</p> +<p>I’ll call on injur’d <i>Laura</i> too.</p> +<p>—Here take these Pictures—and where thou see’st +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him Boxes.</span></p> +<p>A knot of Gallants, open one or two, as if by stealth,</p> +<p>To gaze upon the Beauties, and then straight close them—</p> +<p>But stay, here comes the only Man</p> +<p>I could have wish’d for; he’ll proclaim my Business</p> +<p>Better than a Picture or a Trumpet. +<span class="stagedir"> +They stand by.</span> +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Curtius</em> takes back the Pictures.</span></p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">180</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em> and <em>Guilliam</em> dressed in fineish Clothes, +but the same high-crown’d Hat.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Did, ha, ha, ha, did, ha, ha; did ever any</p> +<p>Mortal Man behold such a Figure as thou art now?</p> +<p>Well, I see ’tis a damnable thing not to</p> +<p>Be born a Gentleman; the Devil himself</p> +<p>Can never make thee truly jantee now.</p> +<p>—Come, come, come forward; these Clothes become</p> +<p>Thee, as a Saddle does a Sow; why com’st thou not?</p> +<p>—Why—ha, ha, I hope thou hast not</p> +<p><a class="comm" name="prince_commtag10" id="prince_commtag10" +href="#prince_commnote10">Hansel’d</a> thy new Breeches,</p> +<p>Thou look’st so filthily on’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +He advances, looking sourly.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +No, Sir, I hope I have more manners than so;</p> +<p>But if I should, ’tis not my fault;</p> +<p>For the necessary Houses are hard</p> +<p>To be met withal here at Court.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Very well, Sirrah; you begin already to be</p> +<p>Witty with the Court: but I can tell you, it has as</p> +<p>Many necessary Places in’t, as any Court in Christendom</p> +<p>—But what a Hat thou hast?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Why, Sir, though I say’t, this is accounted of</p> +<p>In our Village; but I had another but now,</p> +<p>Which I blew off in a high Wind; and I never mist it,</p> +<p>Till I had an occasion to pluck it off to a young</p> +<p>Squire, they call a Lacquey; and, Fegs,</p> +<p>I had none at all: and because I would not lose</p> +<p>My Leg for want of a Hat, I fetch’d this;</p> +<p>And I can tell you, Sir, it has a fashionable Brim.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Fool’s head of your own, has it not?</p> +<p>The Boys will hoot at us as we pass—hah,</p> +<p>Who be these, who be these— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes towards <em>Cur.</em> and <em>Piet.</em></span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Here—this to <i>Don Alonso</i>—this to the</p> +<p><i>English</i> Count; and this you may shew to the</p> +<p>Young <i>German</i> Prince—and this—</p> +<p>I will reserve for higher Prices. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives <em>Piet.</em> Pictures.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">181</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Will you shew none to the Courtiers, Sir?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Away, you Fool, I deal in no such Trash.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +How, Sir, how was that? pray how came we to</p> +<p>Gain your dis-favour?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I cry you mercy, Sir, pray what are you<ins class="correction" title="; unchanged">; </ins></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Courtier, Sir, I can assure you,</p> +<p>And one of the best Rank too;</p> +<p>I have the Prince’s ear, Sir.</p> +<p>—What have you there, hah?—Pictures? let me +see—</p> +<p>What, are they to be bought?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, they are Copies of most fair Originals,</p> +<p>Not to be bought but hired.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Say you so, Friend? the Price, the Price.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Five thousand Crowns a Month, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +The Price is somewhat saucy.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, they be curious Pieces, were never blown upon,</p> +<p>Have never been in Courts, nor hardly Cities.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Upon my word, that’s considerable;</p> +<p>Friend, pray where do they live?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +In the <i>Piazzo</i>, near the Palace.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, put up your Ware, shew not a face of them</p> +<p>Till I return! for I will bring you</p> +<p>The best Chapman in all <i>Florence</i>,</p> +<p>Except the Duke himself.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +You must be speedy then,</p> +<p>For I to morrow shall be going towards <i>Rome</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A subtle Rascal this: thou think’st, I warrant,</p> +<p>To make a better Market amongst the Cardinals.</p> +<p>—But take my word, ne’er a Cardinal of them all</p> +<p>Comes near this Man, I mean, to bring you in</p> +<p>Matters of Beauty—so, this will infallibly make</p> +<p>My Peace again: +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +Look ye, Friend</p> +<p>—Be ready, for ’tis the Prince, the noble generous +<i>Frederick</i>,</p> +<p>That I design your Merchant. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Your Servant, Sir,—that is <i>Guilliam</i>;</p> +<span class="pagenum">182</span> +<p>I cannot be mistaken in him, go call him back. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Pietro</em> fetches him back, who puts on a surly Face.</span></p> +<p>—Friend, what art thou?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +What am I? why, what am I? dost thou not see</p> +<p>What I am? a Courtier, Friend.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +But what’s thy Name?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +My Name, I have not yet considered.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +What was thy Name?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +What was my Name?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, Friend, thou hadst one.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Yes, Friend, thou hadst one.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Dog, do’st eccho me? do’st thou repeat?</p> +<p>I say again, what is thy Name? +<span class="stagedir"> +Shakes him.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Oh horrible!—why, Sir, it was <i>Guilliam</i></p> +<p>When I was a silly Swain.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘Gulliam’"><i>Guilliam</i></ins>—the same;</p> +<p>Didst thou not know a Maid whose name was <i>Cloris</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Yes, there was such a Maid,</p> +<p>But now she’s none!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Was such a Maid, but now she’s none!</p> +<p>—The Slave upbraids my Griefs. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Yes, Sir, so I said.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +So you said!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Why, yes, Sir, what, do you repeat?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +What mean you, Sirrah? have you a mind to</p> +<p>Have your Throat cut? tell me where she is.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +I dare as well be hang’d.</p> +<p>Now must I devise a lye, or never look <i>Cloris</i></p> +<p>In the Face more. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Here’s Gold for thee; I will be secret too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Oh, Sir, the poor Maid you speak of is dead.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Dead! where dy’d she? and how?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Now am I put to my wits; this ’tis to begin</p> +<p>In Sin, as our Curate said: I must go on: +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—Why, Sir, she came into the Wood—and hard by a</p> +<p>River-side—she sigh’d, and she wept full sore;</p> +<span class="pagenum">183</span> +<p>And cry’d two or three times out upon <i>Curtius</i>,</p> +<p>—And—then— +<span class="stagedir"> +Howls.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Poor <i>Cloris</i>, thy Fate was too severe.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +And then as I was saying, Sir,</p> +<p><a class="comm" name="prince_commtag11" id="prince_commtag11" +href="#prince_commnote11">She leapt into the River</a>, and swam up +the Stream. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Cur.</em> weeps.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +And why up the Stream, Friend?</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Because she was a Woman—and that’s all. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Guil.</em></span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Farewel, and thank thee.</p> +<p>—Poor <i>Cloris</i> dead, and banish’d too from +<i>Laura</i>!</p> +<p>Was ever wretched Lover’s Fate like mine!</p> +<p>—And he who injures me, has power to do so;</p> +<p>—But why, where lies this Power about this Man?</p> +<p>Is it his Charms of Beauty, or of Wit?</p> +<p>Or that great Name he has acquir’d in War?</p> +<p>Is it the Majesty, that holy something,</p> +<p>That guards the Person of this Demi-god?</p> +<p>This awes not me, there must be something more.</p> +<p>For ever, when I call upon my Wrongs,</p> +<p>Something within me pleads so kindly for him,</p> +<p>As would persuade me that he could not err.</p> +<p>—Ah, what is this? where lies this Power divine,</p> +<p>That can so easily make a Slave of mine?</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIV_sceneIII" id="prince_actIV_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag43" id="prince_texttag43" +href="#prince_textnote43"><em>Frederick’s</em> Chamber.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Frederick</em>, and <em>Cloris</em> finely dress’d.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +’Tis much methinks, a Boy of so dejected,</p> +<p>Humble Birth, should have so much of Sense</p> +<p>And Soul about him.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I know not that; but if I have a thought</p> +<p>Above that humble Birth or Education,</p> +<p>It was inspir’d by Love.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Still you raise my Wonder greater;</p> +<p>—Thou a Lover?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">184</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Yes, my Lord, though I am young,</p> +<p>I’ve felt the power of Beauty;</p> +<p>And should you look upon the Object, Sir,</p> +<p>Your Wonders soon would cease;</p> +<p>Each Look does even animate Insensibles,</p> +<p>And strikes a reverend Awe upon the Soul:</p> +<p>Nothing is found so lovely.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Thou speak’st prettily, I think Love</p> +<p>Indeed has inspir’d thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +These were the Flatteries, Sir, she us’d to me;</p> +<p>Of her it was I learn’d to speak, and sigh,</p> +<p>And look, as oft you say, I do on you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Why then, it seems she made returns?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Ah! Sir, ’twas I that first was blest,</p> +<p>I first the happy Object was belov’d;</p> +<p>For, ’twas a Person, Sir, so much above me,—</p> +<p>It had been Sin to’ve rais’d my Eyes to her;</p> +<p>Or by a glance, or sigh, betray my Pain.</p> +<p>But Oh! when with a thousand <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag44" id="prince_texttag44" href="#prince_textnote44">soft</a> Expressions,</p> +<p>She did encourage me to speak of Love!</p> +<p>—My God! how soon extravagant I grew,</p> +<p>And told so oft the story of my Passion,</p> +<p>That she grew weary of the repeated Tale,</p> +<p>And punish’d my presumption with a strange neglect. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +How, my good <i>Philibert</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Would suffer me to see her Face no more.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +That was pity; without a Fault?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Alas, Sir, I was guilty of no Crime,</p> +<p>But that of having told her how I lov’d her;</p> +<p>For all I had I sacrific’d to her;</p> +<p>—Poor worthless Treasures to any but a Lover;</p> +<p>And such you know accept the meanest things,</p> +<p>Which Love and a true Devotion do present.</p> +<p>When she was present, I found a thousand ways</p> +<p>To let her know how much I was her Slave;</p> +<span class="pagenum">185</span> +<p>And absent, still invented new ones,</p> +<p>And quite neglected all my little Business;</p> +<p>Counting the tedious Moments of the Day</p> +<p>By Sighs and Tears; thought it an Age to night,</p> +<p>Whose Darkness might secure our happy meeting:</p> +<p>But we shall meet no more on these kind Terms. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sighs.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Come, do not weep, sweet Youth, thou art too young,</p> +<p>To have thy blooming Cheeks blasted with sorrow;</p> +<p>Thou wilt out-grow this childish Inclination,</p> +<p>And shalt see Beauties here, whose every glance</p> +<p>Kindle new Fires, and quite expel the old.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Oh, never, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +When I was first in love, I thought so too,</p> +<p>But now with equal ardour</p> +<p>I doat upon each new and beauteous Object.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +And quite forget the old?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Not so; but when I see them o’er again,</p> +<p>I find I love them as I did before.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Oh God forbid, I should be so inconstant!</p> +<p>No, Sir, though she be false, she has my Heart,</p> +<p>And I can die, but not redeem the Victim.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Away, you little Fool, you make me sad</p> +<p>By this resolve: but I’ll instruct you better.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I would not make you sad for all the World.</p> +<p>Sir, I will sing, or dance, do any thing</p> +<p>That may divert you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I thank thee, <i>Philibert</i>, and will accept</p> +<p>Thy Bounty; perhaps it may allay thy Griefs awhile too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I’ll call the Musick, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +She goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +This Boy has strange agreements in him.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Cloris</em> with Musick.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +She bids them play, and dances a Jig.</p> + +<p>This was wondrous kind, my pretty <i>Philibert</i>.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag45" id="prince_texttag45" +href="#prince_textnote45">Exeunt Musick.</a></p> + +<span class="pagenum">186</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Page</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Page.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, my Lord, begs admittance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +He may come in. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag46" id="prince_texttag46" +href="#prince_textnote46">Exit <em>Page</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>—Well, <i>Lorenzo</i>, what’s the News with thee?</p> +<p>—How goes the price of Beauty, hah?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +My Lord, that question is <i>a propos</i> to</p> +<p>What I have to say; this Paper will answer your</p> +<p>Question, Sir— +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him a Paper, he reads.</span></p> +<p>—Hah, I vow to gad a lovely Youth; +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lor.</em> gazes on <em>Phil.</em></span></p> +<p>But what makes he here with <i>Frederick</i>?</p> +<p>This Stripling may chance to mar my market of Women now—</p> +<p>’Tis a fine Lad, how plump and white he is; +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>Would I could meet him somewhere i’th’ dark,</p> +<p>I’d have a fling at him, and try whether I</p> +<p>Were right <i>Florentine</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Well, Sir, where be these Beauties?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I’ll conduct you to them.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +What’s the Fellow that brings them?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A <i>Grecian</i>, I think, or something.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Beauties from <i>Greece</i>, Man!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, let them be from the Devil,</p> +<p>So they be new and fine, what need we care?</p> +<p>—But you must go to night.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I am not in a very good condition</p> +<p>To make Visits of that kind.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +However, see them, and if you like them,</p> +<p>You may oblige the Fellow to a longer stay,</p> +<p>For I know they are handsome.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +That’s the only thing thou art judge of;</p> +<p>—Well, go you and prepare them;</p> +<p>And <i>Philibert</i>, thou shalt along with me;</p> +<p>I’ll have thy Judgment too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Good Heaven, how false he is! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">187</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +What time will your Highness come?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Two Hours hence. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Fred.</em></span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +So then I shall have time to have a bout</p> +<p>With this jilting Huswife <i>Isabella</i>,</p> +<p>For my Fingers itch to be at her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span> +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Lorenzo</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Not know me yet? cannot this Face inform him?</p> +<p>My Sighs, nor Eyes, my Accent, nor my Tale?</p> +<p>Had he one thought of me, he must have found me out.</p> +<p>—Yes, yes, ’tis certain I am miserable;</p> +<p>He’s going now to see some fresher Beauties,</p> +<p>And I, he says, must be a witness of it;</p> +<p>This gives me Wounds, painful as those of Love:</p> +<p>Some Women now would find a thousand Plots</p> +<p>From so much Grief as I have, but I’m dull;</p> +<p>Yet I’ll to <i>Laura</i>, and advise with her,</p> +<p>Where I will tell her such a heavy Tale,</p> +<p>As shall oblige her to a kind concern:</p> +<p>—This may do; I’ll tell her of this Thought,</p> +<p>This is the first of Art I ever thought on;</p> +<p>And if this proves a fruitless Remedy,</p> +<p>The next, I need not study, how to die.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIV_sceneIV" id="prince_actIV_sceneIV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene IV.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag47" id="prince_texttag47" +href="#prince_textnote47">A Street.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em>, meets <em>Guilliam</em>, who passes by him, and +takes no notice of him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +How now, Manners a few?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +I cry you heartily, Sir, I did not see you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, Sirrah, the News.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Sir, the Gentlewoman whom you sent me to says That she’ll meet you +here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +That’s well, thou mayst come to be a States-man In time, thou art a +fellow of so quick dispatch: But hark ye, Sirrah, there are a few +Lessons I must learn you, +<span class="pagenum">188</span> +Concerning Offices of this nature; But another time for that: but— +<span class="stagedir"> +Whispers.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isabella</em>, and <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag48" id="prince_texttag48" href="#prince_textnote48"><em>Antonio’s Valet</em></a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Here he is; and prithee, when thou seest him in My Chamber, go and tell +my Lord, Under pretence of the care you have of the Honour of his +House.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Val.</span> +I warrant you, let me alone for a Tale, And a Lye at the end on’t; which +shall not over-much Incense him, nor yet make him neglect coming. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Val.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Oh, are you there, Mistress? what have you now To say for your last +Night’s Roguery? Are not you a Baggage? confess.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +You have a mind to lose your opportunity again, As you did last Night, +have ye not? Pray God your own Shadow scare you not, As it did then; and +you will possibly believe No body meant you harm then, nor now.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Art thou in earnest?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Are you in earnest?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Yes, that I am, and that <i>Clarina</i> shall find, If I once come to +her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Come, leave your frippery Jests, and come in.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +<i>Guilliam</i>, be sure you attend me here, And whoever you see, say +nothing; the best on’t is, Thou art not much known. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Isab.</em> and <em>Lor.</em> go in.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Guil.</span> +Well, I see there is nothing but <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag12" id="prince_commtag12" href="#prince_commnote12">foutering</a> In this Town; wou’d our <i>Lucia</i> +were here too for me, For all the Maids I meet with are so giglish And +scornful, that a Man, as I am, Gets nothing but flouts and flings from +them. Oh, for the little kind Lass that lives Under the Hill, of whom +the Song was made; Which because I have nothing else to do, I will +sing over now; hum, hum.</p> + + + + +<span class="pagenum">189</span> +<h5>The Song for <i>Guilliam</i>. +<span class="stagedir"><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag50" id="prince_texttag50" href="#prince_textnote50"><em>To some Tune like +him.</em></a></span></h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">In</span> a Cottage by the Mountain</p> +<p>Lives a very pretty Maid,</p> +<p>Who lay sleeping by a Fountain,</p> +<p>Underneath a Myrtle shade;</p> +<p>Her Petticoat of wanton Sarcenet,</p> +<p>The amorous Wind about did move,</p> +<p><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag51" id="prince_texttag51" +href="#prince_textnote51">And quite unveil’d,</a></p> +<p>And quite unveil’d the Throne of Love,</p> +<p>And quite unveil’d the Throne of Love.</p> +</div> + +<p>’Tis something cold, I’ll go take a <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag13" id="prince_commtag13" href="#prince_commnote13">Niperkin</a> of Wine<ins class="correction" title="comma in original">, </ins> +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Isab.</em> and <em>Lor.</em> above, as frighted into the +Balcony.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +This was some trick of thine, I will be hang’d else.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Oh, I’ll be sworn you wrong me;</p> +<p>Alas, I’m undone by’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Ant.</em> at the Door knocks.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Open the Door, thou naughty Woman.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Oh, oh, what shall I do? what shall I do?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Open the Door, I say.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Oh, ’tis a damnable leap out at this Balcony.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And yet you are a dead Man, if you see him.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Impudence, will you open the Door?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +I will, Sir, immediately.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Devise some way to let me down,</p> +<p>Or I will throw thee out; no Ladder of Ropes, no Device?</p> +<p>—If a Man would not forswear Whoring for the future</p> +<p>That is in my condition, I am no true Gentleman.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Open, or I will break the Door.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Hold the Door, and swear lustily that you</p> +<p>Are my Husband, and I will in the mean time</p> +<p>Provide for your safety,</p> +<p>Though I can think of none but the Sheets from the Bed. +<span class="stagedir"> +He holds the Door.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Any thing to save my Life;</p> +<span class="pagenum">190</span> +<p>—Sir, you may believe me upon my Honour,</p> +<p>I am lawful Husband to <i>Isabella</i>,</p> +<p>And have no designs upon your House or Honour.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Isab.</em> this while fastens the Sheets, which are to be suppos’d +from the Bed, to the Balcony.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Thou art some Villain.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +No, Sir, I am an honest Man, and married lawfully.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Who art thou?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Hast thou done?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Yes, but you must venture hard.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +’Tis <i>Lorenzo</i>, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Pox on her, now am I asham’d to all eternity.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +Sir, let me beg you’l take his Word and Oath to night,</p> +<p>And to morrow I will satisfy you. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lor.</em> gets down by the Sheets.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Look you make this good,</p> +<p>Or you shall both dearly pay for’t.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I am alive, yes, yes, all’s whole and sound,</p> +<p>Which is a mercy, I can tell you;</p> +<p>This is whoring now: may I turn <i>Franciscan</i>,</p> +<p>If I could not find in my heart to do penance</p> +<p>In <a class="comm" name="prince_commtag14" id="prince_commtag14" href="#prince_commnote14">Camphire Posset</a>, this +Month, for this.</p> +<p>—Well, I must to this Merchant of Love,</p> +<p>And I would gladly be there before the Prince:</p> +<p>For since I have mist here,</p> +<p>I shall be amorous enough,</p> +<p>And then I’ll provide for <i>Frederick</i>;</p> +<p>For ’tis but just, although he be my Master,</p> +<p>That I in these Ragousts should be his Taster.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actIV_sceneV" id="prince_actIV_sceneV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene V.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag52" id="prince_texttag52" +href="#prince_textnote52">Antonio’s House.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ismena</em> with a Veil.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Alberto</i> is not come yet, sure he loves me;</p> +<p>But ’tis not Tears, and Knees, that can confirm me;</p> +<span class="pagenum">191</span> +<p>No, I must be convinc’d by better Argument.</p> +<p>—Deceit, if ever thou a Guide wert made</p> +<p>To amorous Hearts, assist a Love-sick Maid.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Your pleasure, Madam?</p> +<p>—Oh that she would be brief,</p> +<p>And send me quickly from her,</p> +<p>For her Eyes will overthrow my purpose. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>, do you love me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +No.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +No! have you deceiv’d me then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Neither, <i>Clarina</i>; when I told you so,</p> +<p>By Heaven, ’twas perfect Truth.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +And what have I done since should</p> +<p>Merit your Dis-esteem?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Nothing but what has rais’d it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +To raise your Esteem, then it seems, is</p> +<p>To lessen your Love; or, as most Gallants are,</p> +<p>You’re but pleas’d with what you have not;</p> +<p>And love a Mistress with great Passion, till you find</p> +<p>Your self belov’d again, and then you hate her.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +You wrong my Soul extremely,</p> +<p>’Tis not of that ungrateful nature;</p> +<p>To love me is to me a greater Charm</p> +<p>Than that of Wit or Beauty.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I’m glad on’t, Sir; then I have pleasant News for you,</p> +<p>I know a Lady, and a Virgin too,</p> +<p>That loves you with such Passion,</p> +<p>As has oblig’d me to become her Advocate.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I am very much oblig’d to her,</p> +<p>If there be any such.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Upon my Life, there is; I am in earnest,</p> +<p>The Lady is my Sister too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +How, <i>Clarina</i>, this from you?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">192</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Nay, I have promis’d her, that you shall love her too,</p> +<p>Since both her Birth and Beauty merits you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Away, false Woman: I love your Sister!</p> +<p>No, I will hate ye both.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Why so Angry?</p> +<p>Alas, it is against my Will I do it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Did you betray my Faith, when ’twas so easy</p> +<p>To give a credit to your tale of Love?</p> +<p>—Oh Woman, faithless Woman!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>, with a world of shame I own</p> +<p>That I then lov’d you, and must do so still:</p> +<p>But since that Love must be accounted criminal,</p> +<p>And that a world of danger does attend it;</p> +<p>I am resolv’d, though I can never quit it,</p> +<p>To change it into kind Esteem for you;</p> +<p>And would ally you, Sir, as near to me,</p> +<p>As our unkind Stars will permit me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +I thank you, Madam: Oh, what a shame it is,</p> +<p>To be out-done in Virtue, as in Love!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Another favour I must beg of you,</p> +<p>That you will tell <i>Antonio</i> what is past.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +How mean you, Madam?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Why, that I love you, Sir,</p> +<p>And how I have deceiv’d him into confidence.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +This is strange; you cannot mean it sure.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +When I intend to be extremely good,</p> +<p>I would not have a secret Sin within,</p> +<p>Though old, and yet repented too: no, Sir,</p> +<p>Confession always goes with Penitence.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Do you repent you that you lov’d me then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Not so; but that I did abuse <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +And can you think that this will cure his Jealousy?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +Doubtless it will, when he knows how needless ’tis;</p> +<p>For when they’re most secure, they’re most betray’d:</p> +<span class="pagenum">193</span> +<p>Besides, I did but act the part he made;</p> +<p>And Ills he forces, sure he’ll not upbraid.</p> +<p>Go seek out <i>Antonio</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +You have o’ercome me, Madam, every way,</p> +<p>And this your last Command I can obey;</p> +<p>Your Sister too I’ll see, and will esteem,</p> +<p>But you’ve my Heart, which I can ne’er redeem.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt severally.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="prince_actV" id="prince_actV"> +ACT V.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actV_sceneI" id="prince_actV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag53" id="prince_texttag53" +href="#prince_textnote53"><em>Laura’s</em> Chamber.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Laura</em> and <em>Cloris</em> like a Boy, as before.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Forward, dear <i>Cloris</i><ins class="correction" title=", for .">. </ins></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +And, Madam, ’twas upon a Holyday,</p> +<p>It chanc’d Prince <i>Frederick</i> came into our Village,</p> +<p>On some reports were made him of my Beauty,</p> +<p>Attended only by the noble <i>Curtius</i>:</p> +<p>They found me in the Church at my Devotion,</p> +<p>Whom <i>Frederick</i> soon distinguished from the rest;</p> +<p>He kneel’d down by me, and instead of Prayer,</p> +<p>He fell to praise—but ’twas my Beauty only;</p> +<p>—That I could tell you, of my strange surprize!</p> +<p>My Zeal was all disordered, and my Eyes</p> +<p>Fed on the false, not real Sacrifice.</p> +<p>—I wanted Art my Sentiments to hide,</p> +<p>Which from my Eyes and Blushes soon he spy’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +And did you know him then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Not till he left me:</p> +<p>—But, to be short, Madam, we parted there;</p> +<p>But e’er he went he whisper’d in my ear,</p> +<p>And sigh’d, Ah, <i>Cloris</i>! e’er you do depart,</p> +<p>Tell me, where ’tis you will dispose my Heart?</p> +<p>—Pray give me leave to visit it again,</p> +<p>Your Eyes that gave can only ease my Pain.</p> +<p>I, only blushing, gave him my consent;</p> +<span class="pagenum">194</span> +<p>He paid his Thanks in Sighs, and from me went.</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr><td> +<p>That night, alas, I took but little rest;</p> +<p>The new and strange Disorder in my Breast</p> +<p>Can, Madam, only by your self be guest.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +I’ll not deny that I’m a Lover too,</p> +<p>And can imagine what was felt by you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +No sooner did the welcome Day appear,</p> +<p>But <i>Lucia</i> brought me word the Prince was there;</p> +<p>His very Name disorder’d me much more,</p> +<p>Than did his Sight or Touch the day before;</p> +<p>So soon my rising Love grew up to power,</p> +<p>So soon he did become my Conqueror.</p> +<p>—How pale and trembling, when he did appear,</p> +<p>I grew, he too had marks of Love and Fear.</p> +<p>—But I’ll omit the many visits paid,</p> +<p>Th’ unvalued Presents, and the Oaths he made,</p> +<p>My kind Disputes on all his Letters writ,</p> +<p>How all my Doubts were answer’d by his Wit;</p> +<p>How oft he vow’d to marry me, whilst I</p> +<p>Durst not believe the pleasing Perjury:</p> +<p>—And only tell you, that one night he came,</p> +<p>Led by designs of an impatient Flame;</p> +<p>When all the House was silently asleep,</p> +<p>Except my self, who Love’s sad Watch did keep;</p> +<p>Arm’d with his Ponyard, and his Breast all bare,</p> +<p>His Face all pale with restless Love and Fear;</p> +<p>So many wild and frantick things he said,</p> +<p>And so much Grief and Passion too betray’d,</p> +<p>So often vow’d he’d finish there his Life,</p> +<p>If I refus’d him to become his Wife;</p> +<p>That I half-dying, said it should be so;</p> +<p>Which though I fear’d, Oh, how I wish’d it too!</p> +<p>Both prostrate on the Ground i’th’ face of Heaven,</p> +<p>His Vows to me, and mine to him were given:</p> +<p>—And then, oh, then, what did I not resign!</p> +<p>With the assurance that the Prince was mine. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">195</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Poor <i>Cloris</i>, how I pity thee!</p> +<p>Since Fate has treated me with equal rigor;</p> +<p>—<i>Curtius</i> is banish’d, <i>Frederick</i> still pursues +me,</p> +<p>And by a cruel Father I’m confin’d,</p> +<p>And cannot go to serve my self or thee. +<span class="stagedir"> +One knocks.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +<span class="aside">Without.</span> +Sister <i>Laura</i>, Sister.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +It is my Brother, would he would be kind,</p> +<p>And set us free; he shall not see thee,</p> +<p>And I’ll persuade him. +<span class="stagedir"> +As she puts <em>Cloris</em> into her Closet, enter <em>Lorenzo</em> with +a Letter.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Hah, locking her Closet! now, were I a right</p> +<p><i>Italian</i>, should I grow jealous, and enrag’d at</p> +<p>I know not what: hah, Sister!</p> +<p>What are you doing here?</p> +<p>Open your Cabinet, and let me see’t.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Sir, ’tis in disorder, and not worth your seeing now.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +’Tis so, I care not for that, I’ll see’t.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Pray do not, Brother.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Your denial makes me the more inquisitive.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +’Tis but my saying, he came from the Prince,</p> +<p>And he dares not take it ill. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>—Here, Sir, +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him the Key.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +And here’s for you too; a Letter from <i>Curtius</i>,</p> +<p>And therefore I would not open it: I took it up</p> +<p>At the Post-house. +<span class="stagedir"> +She reads, and seems pleas’d.</span></p> +<p>Now if this should prove some surly Gallant of hers,</p> +<p>And give me a slash o’er the Face for peeping</p> +<p>I were but rightly serv’d;</p> +<p>And why the Devil should I expect my Sister should</p> +<p>Have more Virtue than my self?</p> +<p>She’s the same flesh and blood: or why, because</p> +<p>She’s the weaker Vessel,</p> +<p>Should all the unreasonable burden of the Honour</p> +<p>Of our House, as they call it,</p> +<p>Be laid on her Shoulders, whilst we may commit</p> +<span class="pagenum">196</span> +<p>A thousand Villanies? but ’tis so—</p> +<p>Here, open the Door;</p> +<p>I’ll put her before me, however. +<span class="stagedir"> +She opens the Door, and brings out <em>Cloris</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Sir, ’tis <i>Philibert</i> from the Prince.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, how now, Youngster, I see you intend</p> +<p>To thrive by your many Trades;</p> +<p>So soon, so soon, i’faith? but, Sirrah,</p> +<p>This is my Sister, and your Prince’s Mistress;</p> +<p>Take notice of that.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I know not what you mean.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Sir, you cannot deceive me so;</p> +<p>And you were right serv’d, you would be made fit</p> +<p>For nothing but the great <i>Turk’s Seraglio</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +You mistake my business, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Your Blushes give you the lye, Sirrah;</p> +<p>But for the Prince’s sake, and another reason I have,</p> +<p>I will pardon you for once.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +He has not done a fault, and needs it not.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Was he not alone with thee?</p> +<p>And is not that enough? Well, I see I am no <i>Italian</i></p> +<p>In Punctillio’s of honourable Revenge.</p> +<p>There is but one experiment left to prove my self so;</p> +<p>And if that fail, I’ll e’en renounce my Country.</p> +<p>—Boy, harkye,—there is a certain kindness</p> +<p>You may do me, and get your pardon for being found here.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +You shall command me any thing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Prithee how long hast thou been set up for thy self, Hah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +As how, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Poh, thou understand’st me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Indeed I do not, Sir; what is’t you mean?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A smooth-fac’d Boy, and ask such a Question?</p> +<p>Fy, fy, this Ignorance was ill counterfeited</p> +<p>To me that understand the World.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Explain your self, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">197</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Lookye, ten or twenty Pistoles will do you</p> +<p>No hurt, will it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Not any, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Why, so, ’tis well any thing will make thee</p> +<p>Apprehend.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +I shall be glad to serve you, Sir, without that fee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +That’s kindly said—</p> +<p>I see a Man must not be too easy of belief: had I been so,</p> +<p>This Boy would have been at, what d’ye mean, Sir?</p> +<p>And, Lord, I understand you not.</p> +<p>Well, <i>Philibert</i>, here’s earnest to bind the Bargain;</p> +<p>I am now in haste; when I see thee next,</p> +<p>I’ll tell thee more. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lorenzo</em> whispers to <em>Laura</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +This ’tis to be a Favourite now;</p> +<p>I warrant you I must do him some good office to the Prince,</p> +<p>Which I’ll be sure to do.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Nay, it must be done, for she has us’d me basely;</p> +<p>Oh, ’tis a Baggage.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Let me alone to revenge you on <i>Isabella</i>,</p> +<p>Get me but from this Imprisonment.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +I will: whilst I hold the old Man in a dispute,</p> +<p>Do you two get away; but be sure thou pay’st her home.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +I warrant you, Sir, this was happy;</p> +<p>Now shall I see <i>Curtius</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +<i>Philibert</i>, I advise you to have a care of</p> +<p>Wenching: ’twill spoil a good Face,</p> +<p>And mar your better market of the two. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Lor.</em></span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Come, let us haste, and by the way, I’ll tell thee</p> +<p>Of a means that may make us all happy.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actV_sceneII" id="prince_actV_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag54" id="prince_texttag54" +href="#prince_textnote54">A Grove.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Alberto</em> melancholy.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Antonio</i> said he would be here,</p> +<p>I’m impatient till he come—</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>, I have such a Project for thee!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">198</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Hah— +<span class="stagedir"> +Gazes.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +What ails thee, art thou well?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Where art thou sick?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +At Heart, <i>Antonio</i>, poison’d by thy Jealousy;</p> +<p>—Oh, thou hast ruin’d me, undone my Quiet,</p> +<p>And from a Man of reasonable Virtue,</p> +<p>Hast brought me to a wild distracted Lover.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Explain your self.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Thou’st taught me, Friend, to love <i>Clarina</i>;</p> +<p>Not, as I promis’d thee, to feign, but so,</p> +<p>That I, unless I do possess that Object,</p> +<p>I think must die; at best be miserable.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +How, Sir, have I done this?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes, Antonio, thou hast done this.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +My dear <i>Alberto</i>, said you that you lov’d her?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes, <i>Antonio</i>, against my will I do;</p> +<p>As much against my will, as when I told her so;</p> +<p>Urg’d by thy needless Stratagem.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Name it no more, it was an idle Fault,</p> +<p>Which I do so repent me,</p> +<p>That if you find I should relapse again,</p> +<p>Kill me, and let me perish with my Weakness:</p> +<p>And were that true you tell me of your Passion,</p> +<p>Sure I should wish to die, to make you happy.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +That’s kindly said, and I submit to you,</p> +<p>And am content to be out-done in Amity.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Yes, I’ll resign my Claims, and leave the World;</p> +<p><i>Alberto</i>, ’tis unkind to think I would be happy</p> +<p>By ways must ruin you:</p> +<p>But sure you tell me this, but only to afflict me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +’Tis truth, <i>Antonio</i>, I do love <i>Clarina;</i></p> +<p>And, what is yet far worse for thy repose,</p> +<p>Believe my self so bless’d to be belov’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +How, to be belov’d by her!</p> +<p>—Oh dire effects of Jealousy!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">199</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +All that you saw to day was only feign’d,</p> +<p>To let you see, that even your Eyes and Ears</p> +<p>Might be impos’d upon.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Can it be possible!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +And now she thinks she is enough reveng’d;</p> +<p>And lets you know, in her feign’d Scorn to me,</p> +<p>That all your Sleights and Cunnings are but vain:</p> +<p>She has deceiv’d them all, and by that Art,</p> +<p>Gives you a Confidence, and me a Heart.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I must confess, it is but just in her</p> +<p>To punish thus the Errors of my Fear;</p> +<p>I do forgive her, from my Soul I do.</p> +<p>—But, Sir, what satisfaction’s this to you?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +<i>Clarina</i> happy, I’ll from Court retire,</p> +<p>And by that Absence quench my Hopeless Fire:</p> +<p>War I will make my Mistress, who may be,</p> +<p>Perhaps, more kind than she has been to me;</p> +<p>Where though I cannot conquer, ’twill allow</p> +<p>That I may die; that’s more than this will do.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Ant.</i>—Why did you, Sir, betray my Weakness to her?</p> +<p>Though ’twas but what I did deserve from you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +By all that’s good, she knew the Plot before,</p> +<p>From <i>Isabella</i>, who it seems o’erheard us,</p> +<p>When you once press’d me to’t:</p> +<p>And had we wanted Virtue, thoud’st been lost.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I own the Crime;</p> +<p>And first I beg thy Pardon,</p> +<p>And after that will get it from <i>Clarina</i>;</p> +<p>Which done, I’ll wait upon thee to the Camp,</p> +<p>And suffer one year’s Penance for this Sin,</p> +<p>Unless I could divert this Resolution,</p> +<p>By a Proposal <i>Clarina</i> bid me make you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +What was it, Sir?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I have a Sister, Friend, a handsome Virgin,</p> +<p>Rich, witty, and I think she’s virtuous too;</p> +<p>Return’d last Week from St. <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag55" id="prince_texttag55" href="#prince_textnote55"><i>Teresia’s</i></a> Monastery.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">200</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Sure any thing that is to thee ally’d,</p> +<p>Must find a more than bare Respect from me;</p> +<p>But <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag56" id="prince_texttag56" href="#prince_textnote56">certain ’tis</a> I ne’er +shall love again,</p> +<p>And have resolv’d never to marry any,</p> +<p>Where Interest, and not Love, must join our hands.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +You cannot tell what Power there lies in Beauty;</p> +<p>Come, you shall see her, and if after that,</p> +<p>You find you cannot love her,</p> +<p>We’ll both to <i>Candia</i>, where we both will prove</p> +<p>Rivals in Honour, as we’re now in Love.</p> +<p>—But I’ad forgot to tell thee what I came for;</p> +<p>I must this Evening beg your Company,</p> +<p>Nay, and perhaps your Sword: come along with me,</p> +<p>And by the way I’ll tell you the Adventure.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="prince_actV_sceneIII" id="prince_actV_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +The Lodgings of <em>Curtius</em>.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Curtius</em> and <em>Pietro</em>, disguis’d as before.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I wonder we hear no news yet of the Prince,</p> +<p>I hope he’ll come; <i>Pietro</i>, be the Bravoes ready,</p> +<p>And the Curtezans?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +My Lord, they’ll be here immediately, all well dress’d too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +They be those Bravoes that belong to me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Yes, Sir, the same;</p> +<p>But <i>Antonio</i> is their Patron.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +They be stout and secret; ’tis well,</p> +<p>Is the Music and all things ready?</p> +<p>For I’ll not be seen till my Part is to be play’d.</p> +<p><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag57" id="prince_texttag57" +href="#prince_textnote57">What Arms have they?</a></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Pistols, Sir, would you have other?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +No, I have not yet consider’d how to kill him,</p> +<p>Nor scarce resolv’d to do so any way.</p> +<p>What makes this strange Irresolution in me?</p> +<p>—Sure ’tis the force of sacred Amity,</p> +<p>Which but too strictly was observ’d by me.</p> +<span class="pagenum">201</span> +<p>—My Prince, and Friend, my Wife, and Sister too;</p> +<p>Shall not those last, the powerful first out-do?</p> +<p>My Honour, and my Love, are there ingag’d,</p> +<p>And here, by ties of Duty, I’m oblig’d:</p> +<p>I satisfy but these, if he must bleed;</p> +<p>But ruin the whole Dukedom in the Deed,</p> +<p>The hopeful Heir of all their noble Spoils,</p> +<p>And Joy and Recompence of all their Toils.</p> +<p>—Why, so was <i>Cloris</i>, <i>Laura</i> too, to me,</p> +<p>Which both were ravish’d from me, Prince, by thee. +<span class="stagedir"> +Knocks within.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Sir, they be the Bravoes and Curtezans. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Pietro</em> goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +’Tis well, I need not talk with them,</p> +<p>They understand their work.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +They do, my Lord, and shall be ready at your stamp;</p> +<p>They are all <i>Neapolitans</i>, you know, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Are they the better for that?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Much, Sir, a <i>Venetian</i> will turn to your Enemy,</p> +<p>If he will give him but a Souse more than you have done;</p> +<p>And your <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag58" id="prince_texttag58" href="#prince_textnote58"><i>Millanoise</i></a> are +fit for nothing but to</p> +<p>Rob the Post or Carrier; a <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag59" id="prince_texttag59" href="#prince_textnote59"><i>Genovese</i></a> too</p> +<p>Will sooner kill by Usury than Sword or Pistol;</p> +<p>A <i>Roman</i> fit for nothing but a Spy.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Well, Sir, you are pleasant with my Countrymen.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +I’ll be so with my own too, Sir; and tell you,</p> +<p>That <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag60" id="prince_texttag60" href="#prince_textnote60">a <i>Maltan</i>, who +pretends</a> to so much Honour</p> +<p>And Gravity, are fit only to rob their Neighbours</p> +<p>With pretence of Piety,</p> +<p>—And <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag61" id="prince_texttag61" href="#prince_textnote61">a <i>Cicilian</i></a> so +taken up with Plots,</p> +<p>How to kill <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag62" id="prince_texttag62" href="#prince_textnote62">his</a> Vice-Roy, that it +keeps them</p> +<p>From being Rogues to a less degree.</p> +<p>But I have done, Sir, and beg your pardon.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Didst leave the Letter, I commanded thee,</p> +<p>For <i>Laura</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +I did, my Lord.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">202</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lorenzo</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Well, here’s the Prince just coming.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cor.</span> +Pray, Sir, conduct him in,</p> +<p>I’m ready for him.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Cur.</em> and <em>Piet.</em></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter the Prince, conducted by two Women in Masquerade, with Lights, he +endeavouring to take off their Masks.</p> + +<p><span class="stagedir"> +Ex. two Women.</span> +<span class="stagedir"> +He walks about while this Song is singing.</span></p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>What is the recompence of War,</p> +<p class="indent2">But soft and wanton Peace?</p> +<p>What the best Balsam to our Scars,</p> +<p class="indent2"> +But that which <em>Venus</em> gave to <em>Mars</em>,</p> +<p>When he was circled in a kind Embrace?</p> + +<p class="stanza"> +Behold a Prince, who never yet</p> +<p class="indent2">Was vanquished in the Field;</p> +<p>Awhile his Glories must forget,</p> +<p class="indent2">And lay his Laurels at the feet</p> +<p>Of some fair Female Power, to whom he’ll yield.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +What’s this the Preparation?</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Yes, so it should seem; but had you met</p> +<p>With so many defeats as I have done to night,</p> +<p>You would willingly excuse this Ceremony.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Musick for the Dance.</p> + +<p class="entrance long"> +Enter <em>Antonio</em> with <em>Ismena</em>, <em>Alberto</em> with +<em>Clarina</em>, <em>Laura</em> and <em>Cloris</em> with two Men more, +and all dress’d in Masquerade, with Vizards; they dance. The Prince +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag63" id="prince_texttag63" href="#prince_textnote63">sets</a> down: the Dance being done, they retire to +one side; and <em>Alberto</em> comes and presents him <em>Clarina</em>, +and bows and retires; who puts off her Mask, and puts it on again, and +retires.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +She’s wondrous fair;</p> +<p>Sure in his whole Cabal he cannot show a fairer—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">203</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +She resembles <i>Clarina</i>; I wish your Highness</p> +<p>Would see further, and then perhaps this would</p> +<p>Fall to my lot, for I love her for likeness sake.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Antonio</em> presents <em>Ismena</em>, and retires as the <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag64" id="prince_texttag64" href="#prince_textnote64">other</a>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +This I confess out-does the others;</p> +<p>An Innocency dwells upon her Face,</p> +<p>That’s strangely taking, is it not, <i>Lorenzo</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +To say truth, she is very fine indeed. +<span class="stagedir"> +They present <em>Laura</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Hah! I am amaz’d; see, <i>Lorenzo</i>,</p> +<p>Dost thou not know that Face?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag65" id="prince_texttag65" +href="#prince_textnote65">O’</a> my Conscience and Soul, ’tis my own +Sister <i>Laura</i>;</p> +<p>Why, how now, Mistress,</p> +<p>Do things go thus with you, i’faith? +<span class="stagedir"> +She shakes her <ins class="correction" title="text unchanged: error for Head?">Hand</ins>, as not understanding him.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Sir, she understands you not.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Is it not <i>Laura</i> then?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +No, Sir, it is a Stranger.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Let her be what she will, I’ll have her. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Fred.</em> seems to talk, when she answers in Grimaces.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +There have been Examples in the World</p> +<p>Of the good Offices done by a Brother to a Sister;</p> +<p>But they are very rare here,</p> +<p>And therefore will surely be the more acceptable.</p> +<p>Well, Sir, have you fix’d, that I may chuse?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I have, and had he thousands more, +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Lor.</em> goes to <em>Clar.</em></span></p> +<p>I would refuse them all for this fair Creature.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Pietro</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Piet.</span> +Sir, all things are ready as you desire,</p> +<p>But my Master must first speak with you alone<ins class="correction" title=", for .">. </ins></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +About the Price, I’ll warrant you;</p> +<p>Let him come in: +<span class="stagedir"> +All go out but <em>Fred</em>, to him <em>Cur.</em></span></p> +<p>—Are you the Master of the Ceremony?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">204</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I am.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Be speedy then, and by my Impatiency</p> +<p>To be with that agreeable Stranger,</p> +<p>Guess at my Approbation of the Ladies, and which I chuse.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Your mighty Heat, Sir, will be soon allay’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Shall it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, Sir, it shall, for you must die.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Sure thou art mad to tell me so, whoe’er thou be’st,</p> +<p>Whilst I have this about me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +That, Sir, you draw in vain; stand off— +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers a Pistol.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +What new conceited Preparation’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Sir, when you know this Face, it will inform you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls off his false Beard.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>! I am betray’d, oh Villain! +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to fight.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Ho, within there—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +He calls, and all the masked Men come out, and offer <a class="notes" +name="prince_texttag66" id="prince_texttag66" href="#prince_textnote66">their</a> Pistols at <em>Frederick</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Hold, I am the Prince of <i>Florence</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +These, Sir, are Rogues, and have no sense of ought,</p> +<p>But Mischief in their Souls;</p> +<p>Gold is their Prince and God,—go, be gone— +<span class="stagedir"> +They withdraw.</span></p> +<p>—See, Sir, I can command them.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>, why dost thou deal thus treacherously with me?</p> +<p>Did I not offer thee to fight thee fairly?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +’Tis like the Injuries, Sir, that you have done me;</p> +<p>Pardon me if my Griefs make me too rude,</p> +<p>And in coarse terms lay all your Sins before you.</p> +<p>—First, Sir, you have debauch’d my lovely Sister,</p> +<p>The only one I had;</p> +<p>The Hope and Care of all our noble Family:</p> +<p>Thou, Prince, didst ravish all her Virtue from her,</p> +<span class="pagenum">205</span> +<p>And left her nothing but a desperate sense of Shame,</p> +<p>Which only serv’d to do her self that Justice,</p> +<p>Which I had executed, had she not prevented me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +In this, upon my Soul, you do me wrong.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Next, (Oh, how unlike a brave and generous Man!)</p> +<p>Without a Cause, you cast me from your Bosom;</p> +<p>Withdrew the Honour of your promis’d Friendship,</p> +<p>And made me partner in my Sister’s Fate;</p> +<p>Only with this difference, that she</p> +<p>You left to act a Murder on her self;</p> +<p>And mine you would have been so kind to’ve done</p> +<p>With your own hand, but my respect prevented it.</p> +<p>—Next, Sir, you ravish’d <i>Laura</i> from me,</p> +<p>And under a pretence of sacred Friendship,</p> +<p>You prov’d your self the worst of Enemies;</p> +<p>And that’s a Crime you dare not say was Ignorance,</p> +<p>As you perhaps will plead your Sin to <i>Cloris</i> was.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Cloris</i>, why, what hast thou to do with <i>Cloris</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +She was my Sister, <i>Frederick</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Thy Sister!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, think of it well,</p> +<p>A Lady of as pure and noble Blood,</p> +<p>As that of the great Duke thy Father,</p> +<p>Till you, bad Man, infected it.</p> +<p>—Say, should I murder you for this base Action,</p> +<p>Would you not call it a true Sacrifice?</p> +<p>And would not Heaven and Earth forgive it too?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +No, had I known that she had been thy Sister,</p> +<p>I had receiv’d her as a Gift from Heaven;</p> +<p>And so I would do still.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +She must be sent indeed from Heaven,</p> +<p>If you receive her now.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Is <i>Cloris</i> dead? Oh, how I was to blame! +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> +<p>—Here thou mayst finish now the Life thou threaten’st.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Now, Sir, you know my Justice and my Power;</p> +<p>Yet since my Prince can shed a Tear for <i>Cloris</i>,</p> +<span class="pagenum">206</span> +<p>I can forgive him; here, Sir,—send me to <i>Cloris</i>, +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels, and offers his Sword.</span></p> +<p>That Mercy possibly will redeem the rest</p> +<p>Of all the Wrongs you’ve done me;</p> +<p>And you shall find nothing but Sorrow here,</p> +<p>And a poor broken Heart that did adore you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Rise, <i>Curtius</i>, and divide my Dukedom with me;</p> +<p>Do any thing that may preserve thy Life,</p> +<p>And gain my Pardon; alas, thy Honour’s safe,</p> +<p>Since yet none knows that <i>Cloris</i> was thy Sister,</p> +<p>Or if they do, I must proclaim this truth;</p> +<p>She dy’d thy Prince’s Wife.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +These Tidings would be welcome to my Sister,</p> +<p>And I the fitting’st Man to bear that News.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Offers to stab himself; is held by <em>Frederick</em>, <em>Laura</em>, +and <em>Cloris</em>, who come in with <em>Isabella</em>, dress’d like +<em>Philibert</em>, and the rest.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Stay, <i>Curtius</i>, and take me with thee in the way.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +<i>Laura</i>, my dearest <i>Laura</i>! how came you hither?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Commanded by your Letter; have you forgot it?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Curtius</i>, look here, is this not <i>Cloris’</i> Face?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +The same; Oh my sweet Sister, is it thee? +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Curtius</em> goes to embrace her, she goes back.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Do not be shy, my Soul, it is thy Brother.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Yes, a Brother who despis’d his Life,</p> +<p>When he believ’d yours lost or sham’d:</p> +<p>But now the Prince will take a care of it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +May I believe my Soul so truly bless’d?</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Yes, <i>Cloris</i>, and thus low I beg thy pardon +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels.</span></p> +<p>For all the Fears that I have made thee suffer.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter all the rest, first <em>Antonio</em> and <em>Alberto</em>, without +their <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag67" id="prince_texttag67" href="#prince_textnote67">Vizors</a>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Rise, Sir, it is my Duty and my Glory.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Sir, we have Pardons too to beg of you.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">207</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Antonio</i> and <i>Alberto</i>, what, turn’d Bravoes?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +I am amaz’d.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +You’ll cease your Wonder, Sir, when you shall know,</p> +<p>—Those <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag68" id="prince_texttag68" href="#prince_textnote68">Braves</a> which formerly +belong’d to you,</p> +<p>Are now maintain’d by me; which <i>Pietro</i> hir’d</p> +<p>For this night’s service; and from them we learnt</p> +<p>What was to be done, (though not on whom)</p> +<p>But that we guess’d, and thought it but our duty</p> +<p>To put this Cheat on <i>Curtius</i>;</p> +<p>Which had we seen had been resolv’d to kill you,</p> +<p>Had been by us prevented:</p> +<p>The Ladies too would needs be Curtezans</p> +<p>To serve your Highness.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +I’m much oblig’d to them, as you.</p> +<p>—<i>Cloris</i>, a while I’ll leave thee with thy Brother,</p> +<p>Till I have reconcil’d thee to my Father:</p> +<p>To marry me, is what he long has wish’d for,</p> +<p>And will, I know, receive this News with Joy. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit Prince.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Here’s fine doings; what am I like to come to if he</p> +<p>Turn honest now? This is the worst piece of Inconstancy</p> +<p>He ever was guilty of; to change ones Humour, or so,</p> +<p>Sometimes, is nothing: but to change Nature,</p> +<p>To turn good on a sudden, and never give a Man</p> +<p>Civil warning, is a Defeat not be endur’d;</p> +<p>I’ll see the end on’t though. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Here, <i>Antonio</i>—imagine how I love thee,</p> +<p>Who make thee such a Present.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Gives him <em>Clarina</em>, who is dressed just as <em>Ismena</em> was, +and <em>Ismena</em> in a Masquing Habit.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +<i>Clarina</i>, can you pardon my Offence,</p> +<p>And bless me with that Love,</p> +<p>You have but justly taken from me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +You wrong me, Sir, I ne’er withdrew my Heart,</p> +<p>Though you, but too unkindly, did your Confidence.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">208</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Do not upbraid me; that I was so to blame,</p> +<p>Is shame enough: pray pardon, and forget it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +I do.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>, to shew my Gratitude in what I may,</p> +<p>I beg you would receive <i>Ismena</i> from me.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Who’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Ismena, whom I promis’d thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +It is <i>Clarina</i>; do you mock my Pain? +<span class="stagedir"> +Shows <em>Ismena</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +By Heaven, not I; this is <i>Clarina</i>, Sir.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +That thy Wife <i>Clarina!</i></p> +<p>A Beauty which till now I never saw.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +Sure thou art mad, didst thou not give her me but now,</p> +<p>And hast not entertain’d her all this night?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Her Habit and her Vizard did deceive me;</p> +<p>I took her for this lady,—Oh bless’d Mistake!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +I see you’re in the dark, but I’ll unfold the Riddle,</p> +<p>—Sir, in the Passage from the Monastery,</p> +<p>Attended only by my Confessor,</p> +<p>A Gentleman, a Passenger, in the same Boat,</p> +<p>Address’d himself to me;</p> +<p>And made a many little Courtships to me:</p> +<p>I being veil’d, he knew not who receiv’d them,</p> +<p>Nor what Confusion they begot in me.</p> +<p>At the first sight, I grew to great esteems of him,</p> +<p>But when I heard him speak—</p> +<p>I’m not asham’d to say he was my Conqueror.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh, Madam, was it you?</p> +<p>Who by your Conversation in that Voyage,</p> +<p>Gave me Disquiets,</p> +<p>Which nothing but your Eyes could reconcile again?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +’Twas I whom you deceiv’d with some such Language.</p> +<p>—After my coming home I grew more melancholy,</p> +<p>And by my silence did increase my Pain;</p> +<span class="pagenum">209</span> +<p>And soon <i>Clarina</i> found I was a Lover,</p> +<p>Which I confess’d at last, and nam’d the Object.</p> +<p>She told me of your Friendship with <i>Antonio</i>,</p> +<p>And gave me hopes that I again should see you:</p> +<p>—But <i>Isabella</i> over-heard the Plot,</p> +<p>Which, Sir, <i>Antonio</i> did contrive with you,</p> +<p>To make a feigned Courtship to <i>Clarina</i>,</p> +<p>And told us all the story.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Oh, how I’m ravish’d with my Happiness!</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +<i>Clarina</i>, Sir, at first was much inrag’d,</p> +<p>And vow’d she would revenge her on <i>Antonio</i>;</p> +<p>But I besought her to be pleas’d again,</p> +<p>And said I would contrive a Counter-Plot,</p> +<p>Should satisfy her Honour and Revenge.</p> +<p>Thus, Sir, I got a Garment like to hers;</p> +<p>And to be courted, though but in jest, by you,</p> +<p>I run all hazards of my Brother’s Anger,</p> +<p>And your opinion of my Lightness too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clar.</span> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag69" id="prince_texttag69" +href="#prince_textnote69">’Twas a Temptation</a>, Sir, I would not +venture on,</p> +<p>Lest from the reasons of a just Revenge,</p> +<p>And so much Beauty as <i>Alberto</i> own’d,</p> +<p>My Virtue should not well secure your Interest.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +But why, <i>Ismena</i>, was that killing Plot,</p> +<p>When I was hid behind the Arras? for now I confess all.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +To make <i>Alberto</i> confident of my Love,</p> +<p>And try his Friendship to the utmost point.</p> +<p>—<i>Alberto</i> too I found had some reserves,</p> +<p>Which I believ’d his Amity to you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Yes, Madam, whilst I took you for his Wife,</p> +<p>I thought it crime enough but to adore you;</p> +<p>But now I may with honour own my Passion:</p> +<p>I will, <i>Ismena</i>, confidently assure you,</p> +<p>That I will die, unless you pity me.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ism.</span> +She that durst tell you, Sir, how much she lov’d,</p> +<p>When you believ’d it was a Sin to do so,</p> +<p>Will now make good that Promise with <i>Antonio’s</i> leave.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">210</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +With perfect Joy, <i>Ismena</i>, I resign thee, +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Ant.</em> gives him <em>Ism.</em></span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +By double Ties you now unite our Souls;</p> +<p>Though I can hardly credit what I see,</p> +<p>The Happiness so newly is arriv’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Ant.</em></span></p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Prince</em>, <em>Lorenzo</em>, and <em>Guilliam</em>, who +comes up scraping to <em>Cloris</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +My Father is the kindest Man on Earth,</p> +<p>And <i>Cloris</i> shall be welcome to his Bosom;</p> +<p>Who’ll make him happy in my Reformation.</p> +<p>—Here, <i>Curtius</i>, take <i>Laura</i>, who, I find,</p> +<p>Had rather be my Sister than my Mistress:</p> +<p>The Duke commands it so.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Cur.</span> +Till you have pardon’d me my late Offences,</p> +<p>I must deny myself so great a Happiness. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Cur.</em> kneels.</span></p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Rise, you have it.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Salvator</em>.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Sal.</span> +Is here not a Runegado belongs to me?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +No, Sir, my Faith’s entire,</p> +<p>And <i>Curtius</i> has the keeping of it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Sal.</span> +Who made him Master of it, hau?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lau.</span> +Heaven, my Inclinations and the Prince.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Sal.</span> +Three powerful Opposers;</p> +<p>Take her, since it must be so,</p> +<p>And mayst thou be happy with her.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Alberto</i>, would this Court afforded</p> +<p>A Lady worthy thee.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Alb.</span> +Sir, I’m already sped, I humbly thank you.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Sped, quoth ye? Heaven defend</p> +<p>Me from such Fortune.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, I had forgot thee; thou shalt e’en marry too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +You may command me any thing but marrying.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +What think you then of a smooth-fac’d Boy?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +A Pox on him, sure he will not tell now, will he?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">211</span> +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +My Lord, I beg your leave to challenge <i>Lorenzo</i>.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +What, to a Duel, <i>Philibert</i>?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +<i>Phil. Phil.</i> hold, do not ruin the Reputation</p> +<p>Of a Man that has acquir’d Fame amongst the female Sex;</p> +<p>I protest I did but jest.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +But, Sir, I’m in earnest with you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +This is not <i>Philibert</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +No, Sir, but <i>Isabella</i>—that was <i>Philibert</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pointing to <em>Cloris</em>.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Yes, Sir, I was the happy Boy to be belov’d,</p> +<p>When <i>Cloris</i> was forgotten.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Oh, how you raise my Love and Shame!</p> +<p>But why did <i>Isabella</i> change her Habit?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Only to take my place, lest you should miss me,</p> +<p>Who being with <i>Laura</i>, at the Lodgings of <i>Clarina</i>,</p> +<p>And comparing the Words of her Letter</p> +<p>With what the Bravoes had confess’d to <i>Antonio</i>,</p> +<p>We found the Plot which was laid for you,</p> +<p>And join’d all to prevent it.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +’Twas sure the work of Heaven.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +And now, Sir, I come to claim a Husband here.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Name him, and take him.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +<i>Lorenzo</i>, Sir.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Of all Cheats, commend me to a Waiting-Gentlewoman;</p> +<p>I her Husband?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Ant.</span> +I am a Witness to that Truth.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +’Tis plain against you; come, you must be honest.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Will you compel me to’t against my will?</p> +<p>Oh Tyranny, consider, I am a Man of Quality and Fortune.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Isab.</span> +As for my Qualities, you know I have sufficient,</p> +<p>And Fortune, thanks to your Bounty, considerable too.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +No matter, he has enough for both.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +Nay, Sir, an you be against me,</p> +<span class="pagenum">212</span> +<p>’Tis time to reform in my own defence;</p> +<p>But ’tis a thing I never consider’d, or thought on.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Marry first, and consider afterwards.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Lor.</span> +That’s the usual way, I confess;</p> +<p>Come, <i>Isabella</i>, since the Prince commands it,</p> +<p>I do not love thee, but yet I’ll not forswear it;</p> +<p>Since a greater Miracle than that is wrought,</p> +<p>And that’s my marrying thee;</p> +<p>Well, ’tis well thou art none of the most beautiful,</p> +<p>I should swear the Prince had some designs on thee else.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Clo.</span> +Yes, <i>Guilliam</i>, since thou hast been so faithful,</p> +<p>I dare assure thee <i>Lucia</i> shall be thine.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="prince_texttag70" id="prince_texttag70" +href="#prince_textnote70"><em>Clo.</em> speaks aside to +<em>Guil.</em></a> <em>Guil.</em> bows.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">Fred.</span> +Come, my fair <i>Cloris</i>, and invest thy self</p> +<p>In all the Glories which I lately promis’d:</p> +<p>—And, Ladies, you’ll attend her to the Court,</p> +<p>And share the Welcomes which the Duke provides her;</p> +<p>Where all the Sallies of my flattering Youth</p> +<p>Shall be no more remember’d, but as past.</p> +<p>Since ’tis a Race that must by Man be run,</p> +<p>I’m happy in my Youth it was begun;</p> +<p>It serves my future Manhood to improve,</p> +<p>Which shall be sacrific’d to War and Love.</p> +</div> + +<h5><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag71" id="prince_texttag71" +href="#prince_textnote71">Curtain Falls.</a></h5> + + +<h4><a name="prince_epi" id="prince_epi">EPILOGUE,</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance">Spoken by <em>Cloris</em>.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">Ladies</span>, the Prince was kind at +last,</p> +<p>But all the Danger is not past;</p> +<p>I cannot happy be till you approve</p> +<p>My hasty condescension to his Love.</p> +<p>’Twas want of Art, not Virtue, was my Crime;</p> +<p>And that’s, I vow, the Author’s Fault, not mine.</p> +<p>She might have made the Women pitiless,</p> +<p>But that had harder been to me than this:</p> +<span class="pagenum">213</span> +<p>She might have made our Lovers constant too,</p> +<p>A Work which Heaven it self can scarcely do;</p> +<p>But simple Nature never taught the way</p> +<p>To hide those Passions which she must obey.</p> +<p><a class="notes" name="prince_texttag72" id="prince_texttag72" +href="#prince_textnote72">E’en humble</a> Cottages and Cells,</p> +<p>Where Innocence and Virtue dwells,</p> +<p>Than Courts no more secure can be</p> +<p>From Love and dangerous Flattery.</p> +<p>Love in rural Triumph reigns,</p> +<p>As much a God amongst the Swains,</p> +<p>As if the Sacrifices paid</p> +<p>Were wounded Hearts by Monarchs made:</p> +<p>And this might well excuse th’ Offence,</p> +<p>If it be so to love a Prince.</p> +<p>But, Ladies, ’tis your Hands alone,</p> +<p>And not his Power, can raise me to a Throne;</p> +<p>Without that Aid I cannot reign,</p> +<p>But will return back to my Flocks again.</p> +</div> + +<p class="entrance"><em>Guilliam</em> advances.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p><em>Guil.</em> How, go from Court! nay, zay not zo.</p> +<p>Hear me but speak before you go:</p> +<p>Whoy zay the <a class="notes" name="prince_texttag73" id="prince_texttag73" href="#prince_textnote73">Leadies</a> should refuse +ye,</p> +<p>The Bleads I’m sure would better use ye—</p> +<p>So long as ye are kind and young,</p> +<p>I know they’ll clap ye right or wrong.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">214</span> + +</div> <!-- end div play --> + + +<div class="textnote"> + +<h4><a name="prince_notes" id="prince_notes">Notes on the +Text.</a></h4> + +<span class="pagenum notes">404</span> + +<h5 class="smallcaps">The Amorous Prince.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dramatis Personæ</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote1" id="prince_textnote1" href="#prince_texttag1">p. 123</a> +<i>Dramatis Personæ.</i> I have added to the list ‘<i>Salvator</i>, +Father to <i>Lorenzo</i> and <i>Laura</i>.’ ‘Ismena’ is spelled +‘Ismenia’ throughout by 1724.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote2" id="prince_textnote2" href="#prince_texttag2">p. 124, l. 10</a> +<i>Should those.</i> 4to 1671 reads ‘Dwell’st perceive us’ as a separate +line. Throughout the play, except in lines as this specially noted, +I carefully follow the metrical division of 4to 1671. 1724 prints +many speeches and whole scenes as prose which the quarto gives as verse. +It is noticeable that the edition of 1711 follows the quarto.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote3" id="prince_textnote3" href="#prince_texttag3">p. 125, l. 17</a> +<i>Bays.</i> 1724 ‘Bay’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene ii</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">405</span> +<p><a name="prince_textnote4" id="prince_textnote4" href="#prince_texttag4">p. 127, l. 31</a> +<i>Exit Pietro.</i> 1724 ‘Exit.’ which would tend to a confusion +here.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote5" id="prince_textnote5" href="#prince_texttag5">p. 131, l. 1</a> +<i>Thinking.</i> 4to 1671 ends this line at ‘Life’ and makes ‘Might ... +Virtue’ a second line.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote6" id="prince_textnote6" href="#prince_texttag6">p. 133, l. 15</a> +<i>accompted.</i> 1724 ‘accounted’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote7" id="prince_textnote7" href="#prince_texttag7">p. 134, l. 34</a> +<i>a my.</i> 1724 ‘on my’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote8" id="prince_textnote8" href="#prince_texttag8">p. 137, l. 15</a> +<i>They retire.</i> 4to 1671 ‘Exeunt.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote9" id="prince_textnote9" href="#prince_texttag9">p. 137, l. 16</a> +<i>Scene IV. The Same.</i> All previous editions ‘Scene IV.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote10" id="prince_textnote10" href="#prince_texttag10">p. 140, l. 28</a> +<i>fixt.</i> 1724 ‘fit’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote11" id="prince_textnote11" href="#prince_texttag11">p. 141, l. 2</a> +<i>me alone.</i> 1724 ‘me all alone’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote12" id="prince_textnote12" href="#prince_texttag12">p. 141, l. 28</a> +<i>Ism. I can.</i> 1724 wrongly gives this speech to Isabella.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote13" id="prince_textnote13" href="#prince_texttag13">p. 144, l. 4</a> +<i>if there need an Oath between us—</i> 1724 ‘is there need of +Oaths between us?’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote14" id="prince_textnote14" href="#prince_texttag14">p. 144, l. 15</a> +<i>Gal. My Lord.</i> All previous editions give Galliard’s lines with +speech-prefix ‘Ser.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote15" id="prince_textnote15" href="#prince_texttag15">p. 145, l. 30</a> +<i>An.</i> 4to 1671 ‘And’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote16" id="prince_textnote16" href="#prince_texttag16">p. 146, l. 30</a> +<i>Exit.</i> I have supplied this stage direction.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote17" id="prince_textnote17" href="#prince_texttag17">p. 146, l. 31</a> +<i>Antonio’s House.</i> I have added the locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote18" id="prince_textnote18" href="#prince_texttag18">p. 147, l. 10</a> +<i>hurt ones.</i> 4to 1671 ‘hurts one’. 1724 ‘hurt one’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote19" id="prince_textnote19" href="#prince_texttag19">p. 147, l. 16</a> +<i>Cure.</i> 1724 ‘spare’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote20" id="prince_textnote20" href="#prince_texttag20">p. 152, l. 18</a> +<i>The Street.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote21" id="prince_textnote21" href="#prince_texttag21">p. 152, l. 32</a> +<i>being retir’d.</i> 1724 ‘retires’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote22" id="prince_textnote22" href="#prince_texttag22">p. 154, l. 34</a> +<i>Pag.</i> All previous editions here give speech-prefix ‘Boy’. The +alteration from ‘Page’ to ‘Boy’ is quite unnecessary.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote23" id="prince_textnote23" href="#prince_texttag23">p. 155, l. 13</a> +<i>Lor. and Page run.</i> All previous editions ‘Lor. runs away’, but +obviously the Page accompanies his master.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote24" id="prince_textnote24" href="#prince_texttag24">p. 156, l. 1</a> +<i>Antonio’s House.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote25" id="prince_textnote25" href="#prince_texttag25">p. 157, l. 10</a> +<i>Puts on the Veil.</i> 1724 merely reads ‘Exeunt.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene v</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote26" id="prince_textnote26" href="#prince_texttag26">p. 157, l. 12</a> +<i>A Chamber.</i> I have supplied the locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote27" id="prince_textnote27" href="#prince_texttag27">p. 157, l. 29</a> +<i>Exit Page.</i> I have added this stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote28" id="prince_textnote28" href="#prince_texttag28">p. 158, l. 17</a> +<i>you will believe.</i> 1724 omits ‘will’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote29" id="prince_textnote29" href="#prince_texttag29">p. 160, l. 7</a> +<i>A Room.</i> I have supplied the locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote30" id="prince_textnote30" href="#prince_texttag30">p. 161, l. 23</a> +<i>you’re.</i> 1671 ‘your’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote31" id="prince_textnote31" href="#prince_texttag31">p. 163, l. 19</a> +<i>A Street.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote32" id="prince_textnote32" href="#prince_texttag32">p. 171, l. 30</a> +<i>Galliard.</i> 4to 1671 has ‘with a Galliard’, and to Galliard’s lines +gives speech-prefix ‘Serv.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote33" id="prince_textnote33" href="#prince_texttag33">p. 172, l. 6</a> +<i>and his Page.</i> I have marked the Page’s entrance here. It is not +noted by previous editions.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote34" id="prince_textnote34" href="#prince_texttag34">p. 173, l. 16</a> +<i>Ex. Page.</i> 4to 1671 ‘Ex. Boy.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote35" id="prince_textnote35" href="#prince_texttag35">p. 174, l. 6</a> +<i>Bone Mine.</i> 4to 1671 ‘Bon Meen’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote36" id="prince_textnote36" href="#prince_texttag36">p. 174, l. 13</a> +<i>with Musick.</i> I have added these words.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote37" id="prince_textnote37" href="#prince_texttag37">p. 176, l. 30</a> +<i>did not hate.</i> 1724 omits ‘not’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote38" id="prince_textnote38" href="#prince_texttag38">p. 177, l. 22</a> +<i>never.</i> 4to 1671 ‘ever’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote39" id="prince_textnote39" href="#prince_texttag39">p. 177, l. 32</a> +<i>Joys.</i> 4to 1671 ‘Joy’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote40" id="prince_textnote40" href="#prince_texttag40">p. 178, l. 10</a> +<i>Ism. Know it was.</i> Both 4to 1671, and 1724 read ‘No, it was’, +which does not give sense. There can be little doubt ‘Know’ is the +correct reading.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote41" id="prince_textnote41" href="#prince_texttag41">p. 178, l. 18</a> +<i>slight.</i> 1724 ‘flight’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote42" id="prince_textnote42" href="#prince_texttag42">p. 178, l. 29</a> +<i>A Street.</i> I have added this locale, which no previous edition +marks.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iii</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">406</span> +<p><a name="prince_textnote43" id="prince_textnote43" href="#prince_texttag43">p. 183, l. 25</a> +<i>Frederick’s Chamber.</i> I have added this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote44" id="prince_textnote44" href="#prince_texttag44">p. 184, l. 22</a> +<i>oft.</i> 1724 ‘soft’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote45" id="prince_textnote45" href="#prince_texttag45">p. 185, l. 35</a> +<i>Exeunt Musick.</i> I have inserted this stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote46" id="prince_textnote46" href="#prince_texttag46">p. 186, l. 3</a> +<i>Exit Page.</i> I have supplied this.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote47" id="prince_textnote47" href="#prince_texttag47">p. 187, l. 23</a> +<i>A Street.</i> I have added this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote48" id="prince_textnote48" href="#prince_texttag48">p. 188, l. 3</a> +<i>Antonio’s Valet.</i> 4to 1671 simply ‘Vallet.’ 1724 ‘Valet.’ The +servant is obviously Antonio’s man.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote49" id="prince_textnote49" href="#prince_commtag12">p. 188, l. 27</a> +<i>foutering.</i> 1724 ‘soutering’. +<a class="crossref" href="#prince_commnote12"> +Critical Note</a></p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote50" id="prince_textnote50" href="#prince_texttag50">p. 189, l. 2</a> +<i>To some Tune like him.</i> Only in 4to 1671.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote51" id="prince_textnote51" href="#prince_texttag51">p. 189, l. 9</a> +<i>And quite unveil’d.</i> Only 4to 1671 gives this line.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene v</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote52" id="prince_textnote52" href="#prince_texttag52">p. 190, l. 31</a> +<i>Antonio’s House.</i> I have supplied the locale.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote53" id="prince_textnote53" href="#prince_texttag53">p. 193, l. 10</a> +<i>Laura’s Chamber.</i> I have added the locale.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote54" id="prince_textnote54" href="#prince_texttag54">p. 197, l. 30</a> +<i>A Grove.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote55" id="prince_textnote55" href="#prince_texttag55">p. 199, l. 36</a> +<i>Teresia’s.</i> 4to 1671 ‘<i>Teretia’s</i>’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote56" id="prince_textnote56" href="#prince_texttag56">p. 200, l. 3</a> +<i>certain ’tis.</i> 4to 1671 ‘it is certain’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote57" id="prince_textnote57" href="#prince_texttag57">p. 200, l. 28</a> +<i>What Arms.</i> 4to 1671 gives this line to Pietro.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote58" id="prince_textnote58" href="#prince_texttag58">p. 201, l. 21</a> +<i>Millanoise.</i> 1724 ‘Milanese’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote59" id="prince_textnote59" href="#prince_texttag59">p. 201, l. 22</a> +<i>Genovese.</i> 1724 ‘Genoese’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote60" id="prince_textnote60" href="#prince_texttag60">p. 201, l. 27</a> +<i>a Maltan who pretends.</i> 1724 ‘the Maltese, who pretend’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote61" id="prince_textnote61" href="#prince_texttag61">p. 201, l. 30</a> +<i>a Cicilian.</i> 1724 ‘the Sicilians’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote62" id="prince_textnote62" href="#prince_texttag62">p. 201, l. 31</a> +<i>his.</i> 1724 ‘their’. The alterations made by 1724 and the confusion +of plurals and singular in this passage, which I have left untouched, +are noticeable.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote63" id="prince_textnote63" href="#prince_texttag63">p. 202, l. 27</a> +<i>sets.</i> 1724 ‘<i>sits</i>’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote64" id="prince_textnote64" href="#prince_texttag64">p. 203, l. 5</a> +<i>others.</i> 1724 ‘other’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote65" id="prince_textnote65" href="#prince_texttag65">p. 203, l. 12</a> +<i>O’.</i> 4to 1671 ‘A’.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote66" id="prince_textnote66" href="#prince_texttag66">p. 204, l. 20</a> +<i>their.</i> 4to 1671 ‘<i>the</i>’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote67" id="prince_textnote67" href="#prince_texttag67">p. 206, l. 33</a> +<i>Visors.</i> 1724 ‘<i>Vizards</i>’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote68" id="prince_textnote68" href="#prince_texttag68">p. 207, l. 5</a> +<i>Braves.</i> 1724 ‘Bravoes’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote69" id="prince_textnote69" href="#prince_texttag69">p. 209, l. 19</a> +<i>’Twas a Temptation.</i> 1724 quite erroneously gives this speech to +Cloris.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote70" id="prince_textnote70" href="#prince_texttag70">p. 212, l. 13</a> +<i>Clo. speaks aside to Guil.</i> 1724 ‘Aside to Guil.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote71" id="prince_textnote71" href="#prince_texttag71">p. 212, l. 24</a> +<i>Curtain Falls.</i> Only in 4to 1671.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Epilogue</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote72" id="prince_textnote72" href="#prince_texttag72">p. 213, l. 5</a> +<i>E’en humble.</i> 4to 1671 omits ‘E’en’.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_textnote73" id="prince_textnote73" href="#prince_texttag73">p. 213, l. 22</a> +<i>Leadies.</i> 1724 ‘Ladies’.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">413</span> + +<h4>Notes: Critical And Explanatory.</h4> + +<h5 class="smallcaps">The Amorous Prince.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +Prologue</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote1" id="prince_commnote1" href="#prince_commtag1">p. 121</a> +<i>Great Johnson’s way.</i> cf. what Mrs. Behn says in her ‘Epistle to +the Reader’ prefacing <i>The Dutch Lover</i> (Vol. I, p. 224), of +the Jonsonian enthusiast: ‘a man the most severe of Johnson’s Sect.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote2" id="prince_commnote2" href="#prince_commtag2">p. 121</a> +<i>Nokes and Angel.</i> The two celebrated low comedians. Angel died in +the spring of 1673. He was a great farceur, but gagged unmercifully, to +the no small annoyance of the poets.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote3" id="prince_commnote3" href="#prince_commtag3">p. 121</a> +<i>Cataline.</i> Jonson’s tragedy was revived with great splendour at +the King’s House, Friday, 18 December, 1668, and remained a stock play +until the retirement of Hart (who excelled in Catiline) at the Union in +1682. Michael Mohun was famous in Cethegus, and Mrs. Corey in Sempronia. +Pepys found the play itself rather dull as a whole ‘though most fine in +clothes, and a fine Scene of the Senate, and of a fight, as ever I saw +in my life.’ A year before its actual production his crony, Harry +Harris, a member of the rival theatre had ‘talked of +<i>Catiline</i> which is to be suddenly acted at the King’s House; and +there all agree that it cannot be well done at that house, there not +being good actors enough; and Burt acts Cicero, which they all conclude +he will not be able to do well. The King gives them £500 for robes, +there being, as they say, to be sixteen scarlet robes.’ (11 December, +1667.) In the first quarto (1672), of Buckingham’s <i>The Rehearsal</i>, +Bayes refers to <i>Catiline</i> saying that his design in a certain +scene is ‘<i>Roman</i> cloaths, guilded Truncheons, forc’d conceipt, +smooth Verse, and a Rant.’ The words ‘Roman cloaths’ are omitted in all +subsequent editions.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote4" id="prince_commnote4" href="#prince_commtag4">p. 121</a> +<i>the Comick Hat.</i> In 1670 there was produced at the Theatre Royal, +Dryden’s <i>The Conquest of Granada</i>, Part <span class="smallroman">I</span>. The witty prologue was ‘spoken by Mrs. Ellen +Gwyn’ (who acted Almahide) ‘in a Broad-Brimm’d Hat, and Waist Belt’. It +commences thus:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>This jest was first of t’other house’s making,</p> +<p>And five times tried, has never fail’d of taking;</p> +<span class="pagenum notes">414</span> +<p>For ’twere a shame a poet should be kill’d</p> +<p>Under the shelter of so broad a shield.</p> +<p>This is the hat, whose very sight did win ye</p> +<p>To laugh and clap as tho’ the devil were in ye.</p> +<p>As then, for Nokes, so now I hope you’ll be</p> +<p>So dull, to laugh, once more, for love of me.</p> +</div> + +<p>Two slightly different explanations are given of the jest. Theatrical +tradition has it that Dryden supplied Nell Gwynne, who was plump and +petite, with this hat of the circumference of a cart wheel, in ridicule +of a hat worn by Nokes of the Duke’s company whilst playing Ancient +Pistol. It is again said that in May, 1670, whilst the Court was at +Dover to receive the Duchess of Orleans, the Duke’s Company played there +Shadwell’s <i>The Sullen Lovers</i>, and Caryl’s <i>Sir Salomon; or, The +Cautious Coxcomb</i>, in which latter comedy Nokes acted Sir Arthur +Addle, a bawling fop. The dress of the French gallants attending +the Duchess was characterised by an excessively short laced scarlet or +blue coat, a very broad waist-belt and a wide-leaved hat. Nokes +appeared on the stage in a still shorter coat, a huger waist-belt, +and a hat of preposterous dimensions. The Duke of Monmouth buckled his +own sword to the actor’s side, and, according to old Downes, our +comedian looked more like a dressed-up ape or a quiz on the French than +Sir Arthur Addle. The English Court was straightway convulsed with +laughter at this mimicry, which seems, to say the least, in highly +questionable taste. When Nell Gwynne appeared and burlesqued the biter, +Charles II, who was present at the first performance of <i>The Conquest +of Granada</i>, well nigh died of merriment, and her verve in delivering +Dryden’s witty lines wholly completed her conquest of the King. Nell +Gwynne did not appear on the boards after 1670.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote5" id="prince_commnote5" href="#prince_commtag5">p. 121</a> +<i>The Jig and Dance.</i> cf. note (on p. 43), Vol. III, +p. 477: <i>A Jigg</i> (<i>The Town Fop</i>). The Jig is in +this prologue clearly distinct from a dance. Act iv, sc. <span class="smallroman">III</span> (p. 185): ‘Cloris dances a Jig’— +(i.e. the simple dance). +<a class="crossref" href="#prince_crossref5"> +Cross-reference: <i>The Town Fop</i></a></p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote6" id="prince_commnote6" href="#prince_commtag6">p. 133</a> +<i>Capriol.</i> Capriole (French) signifies a leap made by a horse +without advancing.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote7" id="prince_commnote7" href="#prince_commtag7">p. 140</a> +<i>Clarina why thus clouded?</i> Similar expressions in Davenant’s +<i>The Siege of Rhodes</i> (4to 1663), Part 1, the Second +Entry:—</p> + +<p class="verse"> +<i>Mustapha.</i> I bring the morning pictur’d in a cloud.</p> + +<p>And in Sir William Barclay’s <i>The Lost Lady</i> (folio, 1639), Act +ii:—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Phillida</em> veiled who talks to <em>Ergasto</em> aside and +then goes out.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><i>Cleon.</i> From what part of the town comes this fair day</p> +<p>In a cloud that makes you look so cheerfully?</p> +</div> + +<p>are burlesqued in <i>The Rehearsal</i>, iii, <span class="smallroman">V</span>:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><i>Vols.</i> Can vulgar vestments high-born beauty shroud?</p> +<p>Thou bring’st the Morning pictur’d in a Cloud.</p> +</div> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote8" id="prince_commnote8" href="#prince_commtag8">p. 164</a> +<i>... is welcome.</i> Buckingham parodies this in <i>The Rehearsal</i>, +iv, <span class="smallroman">III</span>:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><i>Cordelia.</i> My lieges, news from <i>Volscius</i> the prince.</p> +<p><i>Usher.</i> His news is welcome, whatso’er it be.</p> +<p><i>Smith.</i> How, sir, do you mean that? Whether it be good or +bad?</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum notes">415</span> +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote9" id="prince_commnote9" href="#prince_commtag9">p. 172</a> +<i>tabering.</i> Beating on; tapping; drumming. This rare word occurs in +<i>Nahum</i>, ii, <span class="smallroman">VII</span>: ‘Her maids +shall lead her as with the voice of doves tabering upon their +breasts.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote10" id="prince_commnote10" href="#prince_commtag10">p. 180</a> +<i>Hansel’d.</i> To handsel is to inaugurate with some ceremony of an +auspicious kind<ins class="correction" title=". for ,">, </ins>e.g. +to begin the New Year by presenting a new comer with a gift.</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote11" id="prince_commnote11" href="#prince_commtag11">p. 183</a> +<i>She leapt into the River. The Rehearsal</i>, Act v, burlesques +this:— ‘<i>The Argument of the Fifth Act</i> ... <i>Cloris</i> in +despair, drowns herself: and Prince <i>Pretty-man</i>, discontentedly, +walks by the River side.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote12" id="prince_commnote12" href="#prince_commtag12">p. 188</a> +<i>foutering.</i> Fouter (Fr. foutre; Lat. futuere), <i>verbum +obscaenum</i>. cf. the noun in phrase ‘to care not a fouter’ (footra, +footre, foutre), <i>2 Henry IV</i>, v, <span class="smallroman">III</span>. To ‘fouter’ is also used (a vulgarism and +a provincialism) in a much mitigated sense = to meddle about aimlessly, +to waste time and tongue doing nothing, as of a busybody. +<a class="crossref" href="#prince_textnote49"> +Text note</a></p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote13" id="prince_commnote13" href="#prince_commtag13">p. 189</a> +<i>Niperkin.</i> This would seem to be a slang expression, as Grose +gives it meaning ‘a small measure’. It was also used for the actual +stone jug. cf. D’Urfey, <i>Pills to Purge Melancholy</i> (1719): +‘Quart-pot, Pint-pot, nipperkin.’ <i>N.E.D.</i>, quoting this passage, +explains as ‘a small quantity of wine, ale, or spirits.’</p> + +<p><a name="prince_commnote14" id="prince_commnote14" href="#prince_commtag14">p. 190</a> +<i>Camphire Posset.</i> Camphor had a high reputation as an +antaphrodisiac. cf. Dryden, <i>The Spanish Friar</i> (1681), Act i, +where Gomez says of his wife: ‘I’ll get a physician that shall prescribe +her an ounce of camphire every morning, for her breakfast, to abate +incontinency’; also Congreve, <i>The Way of the World</i> (1700), iv, +<span class="smallroman">XII</span>: ‘You are all camphire and +frankincense, all chastity and odour.’</p> + +</div> + +<div class="endnote"> +<h4>Cross-Reference</h4> + +<p><a name="prince_crossref5" id="prince_crossref5" href="#prince_commnote5">Note to p. 121</a>: <i>The Jig and Dance.</i></p> + +<p><i>Town Fop</i> note:</p> + +<div class="inset"> +<p><i>A Jigg.</i> There were, in Post-Restoration times, two +interpretations of the word Jig. Commonly speaking it was taken to +mean exactly what it would now, a simple dance. Nell Gwynne and Moll +Davis were noted for the dancing of Jigs. cf. Epilogue to Buckingham’s +<i>The Chances</i> (1682):—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p class="indent2">The Author dreads the strut and meen</p> +<p>Of new prais’d Poets, having often seen</p> +<p>Some of his Fellows, who have writ before,</p> +<p>When Nel has danc’d her Jig, steal to the Door,</p> +<p>Hear the Pit clap, and with conceit of that</p> +<p>Swell, and believe themselves the Lord knows what.</p> +</div> + +<p>Thus at the end of Lacy’s <i>The Old Troop</i> (31 July, 1668), we +have ‘a dance of two hobby horses in armour, and a Jig.’ Also shortly +before the epilogue in Shadwell’s <i>The Sullen Lovers</i> (1668) we +read, ‘Enter a Boy in the habit of Pugenello and traverses the stage, +takes his chair and sits down, then dances a Jig.’</p> + +<p>But it must be remembered that beside the common meaning there was a +gloss upon the word derived from Elizabethan stage practice. In the +prologue to <i>The Fair Maid of the Inn</i> (licensed 1626), good plays +are spoken of as often scurvily treated, whilst</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>A Jigge shall be clapt at, and every rhime</p> +<p>Prais’d and applauded by a clam’rous chyme.</p> +</div> + +<p>The Pre-Restoration Jig was little other indeed than a ballad opera +in +embryo lasting about twenty-five minutes and given as an after-piece. +It was a rhymed farce in which the dialogue was sung or chanted by the +characters to popular ballad tunes. But after the Restoration the Jig +assumed a new and more serious complexion, and came eventually to be +dovetailed with the play itself, instead of being given at the fag end +of the entertainment. Mr. W. J. Lawrence, the well-known theatrical +authority to whom I owe much valuable information contained in this +note, would (doubtless correctly) attribute the innovation to Stapylton +and Edward Howard, both of whom dealt pretty freely in these Jigs. +Stapylton has in Act v of <i>The Slighted Maid</i> (1663) a ‘Song in +Dialogue’ between Aurora and Phoebus with a chorus of Cyclops, which +met with some terrible parody in <i>The Rehearsal</i> (cf. the present +editor’s edition of <i>The Rehearsal</i>, p. 145). Indeed all +extrinsic songs in dialogue, however serious the theme, were considered +‘Jigs’. A striking example would be the Song of the Spirits in Dryden’s +<i>Tyrannic Love</i>, Act iv.</p> + +<p>In Post-Restoration days a ballad sung in the streets by two persons +was frequently called a Jig, presumably because it was a ‘song in +dialogue’. Numerous examples are to be found amongst the Roxburgh +Ballads.</p> + +<p>The Jig introduced in <i>Sir Timothy Tawdrey</i> would seem to have +been the simple dance although not improbably an epithalamium was also +sung.</p> +</div> <!-- end div inset --> + +<hr><hr> + +<span class="pagenum">215</span> +<hr class="mid"> + +<h3><a name="widow" id="widow">THE WIDOW RANTER.</a></h3> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">216</span> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p><a href="#widow_arg">Argument.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#widow_source">Source.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#widow_hist">Theatrical History.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_dedic">Dedication.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_pro">Prologue.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_cast">Dramatis Personæ.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_actI">Act I.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actI_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>A Room with several +Tables.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actI_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>The +Council-Table.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actI_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>Surelove’s +House.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_actII">Act II.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>A Pavilion.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>The Widow Ranter’s +Hall.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actII_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Sevana.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actII_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>The +Council-Table.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_actIII">Act III.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actIII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>The Country +Court.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actIII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>The Sevana.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_actIV">Act IV.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actIV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>A Temple.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actIV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Field of +Tents.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actIV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Tent.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_actV">Act V.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>The Sevana.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>Wellman’s Tent.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A thick Wood.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actV_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>Another part of the +Wood.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#widow_actV_sceneV">Scene V.</a> <i>A Grove.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#widow_epi">Epilogue.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#widow_notes">Notes to <i>The Widow Ranter</i></a></p> +</div> + +<div class="intro"> + +<span class="pagenum">217</span> + +<h4><a name="widow_arg" id="widow_arg">ARGUMENT.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">Bacon</span>, General of the English in +Virginia, has fought with great success against the Indians and +repeatedly beaten back their tribes, although the Supreme Council, by +whom the Colony is governed, have refused him a commission, and, in +spite of his victories, persist in treating him as a rebel and a +traitor. This Council indeed is composed of a number of cowards and +rogues, who through sheer malice and carping jealousy attribute Bacon’s +prowess to his known passion for Semernia, the Indian Queen, and who +feign to think that he fights merely with the hope of slaying her +husband, the King Cavernio. These rascals are none the less mightily +afraid of the general’s valour and spirit, so they determine to entice +him from his camp under various specious pretexts, and then, once he is +completely in their power, to have him executed or assassinated. With +this object in view they send a friendly letter asking him to attend the +Council, to accept a regular commission, and to raise new forces. On his +way to the town Bacon is attacked by an ambush of soldiers, whom he +beats off with the help of one of his lieutenants, Fearless, backed by +Lieutenant Daring and a troop of his own men, who capture Whimsey and +Whiff, two very prominent justices, instigators of the plot. He +accordingly appears before the Council with a couple of prisoners. The +populace, who are all for their hero, realizing the treachery, raise a +riot, and throw the Councillors into a state of the utmost confusion and +alarm. They spur themselves to action, however, and under the leadership +of Colonel Wellman, Deputy Governor, proceed to take the field against +Bacon, who is declared an open and lawless rebel. When he appears the +soldiers, none the less, join themselves to their hero, and as at the +same moment news is brought that the Indians have risen and are +attacking the town, Bacon is induced to lead the troops against the foe; +and in a pitched battle Cavernio is slain. That night whilst his army is +revelling after their victory the Council and their party with infamous +treachery suddenly attack the camp. There are further skirmishes with a +remnant of the Indian fugitives, and in one of these frays Bacon +accidentally wounds Semernia, who is flying disguised in man’s attire. +He recognizes her voice, and she sinks into his <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘ams’">arms</ins> to die. As he is +weeping over her body Fearless rushes in with drawn sword shouting that +the day is all but lost. Bacon, his mistress dead, deeming that his men +are overcome by the attack from the town and that he will himself be +captured, takes poison which he carries concealed in the pommel of his +sword, whilst Daring and his soldiers are heard shouting ‘Victory! +Victory!’ The hero, however, expires at the moment his men have +conquered, but the Council speedily come to terms, naming with a +commission Daring as General, whilst Colonel Wellman announces his +intention of weeding this body of rogues and cowards against the arrival +of the new Governor who is expected from England.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">218</span> +<p>Daring, upon his commission, is wedded to the Widow Ranter, first +mistress and then wife of old Colonel Ranter, recently deceased, +a wealthy, buxom virago who has followed her soldier during the +fighting in man’s attire and even allowed herself to be taken prisoner +by a young gallant, Hazard, just landed from England, and who has +occupied his time in an amour with a certain Mrs. Surelove. Hazard, upon +his arrival, meets an old acquaintance, Friendly, who loves and is +eventually united to Crisante, daughter to Colonel Downright; whilst +Parson Dunce, the Governor’s chaplain, is made to marry Mrs. Flirt, the +keeper of a hostelry, a good dame with whom he has been a little +too familiar on a promise of matrimony.</p> + + +<h4><a name="widow_source" id="widow_source">SOURCE.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">The</span> admirable comic scenes and +characters of <i>The Widow Ranter</i> are original invention, but Mrs. +Behn has founded the serious and historical portion of her play upon a +contemporary pamphlet, <i>Strange News from Virginia being a full and +true account of the Life and Death of Nathaniel Bacon esq. London: +printed for Wm. Harris, 1677</i>. With regard to the catastrophe and +Bacon’s love for the Indian Queen, Mrs. Behn has quite legitimately +departed from the narrative, but otherwise she keeps fairly closely to +her sources. There is also a <i>History of Bacon and Ingram’s Rebellion +in Virginia in 1675-76</i>, written at the time but first published in +1867.</p> + +<p>The <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i> gives a very ample yet +concise account of Bacon, with valuable references to original +documents. He was the son of Sir Thomas Bacon of Friston Hall, Suffolk. +Born in 1642, about 1673 he married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edward +Duke, Bart., and shortly afterwards in a spirit of roving adventure +emigrated to Virginia. Here he was elected a member of the Council, and +his estates being especially exposed to Indian raids the volunteer +colonists chose him General. The Governor, however, delayed to send the +necessary commission, and Bacon having in this interval attacked a band +of Indian marauders was promptly declared a rebel. The Governor was +thereupon forced to yield by a general revolt, and in a second +expedition Bacon defeated the Indians with terrific slaughter. +A little later when reinforcements had arrived the Governor again +declared him an outlaw, but after a brief struggle was himself obliged +to take refuge at sea, whilst Jamestown fell into the hands of the +victorious General, who not being able to garrison the houses, burned it +to the ground. In the midst of his success, whilst he was busied with +new plans for the welfare and protection of the colonists, Bacon died +suddenly, 1676. He left one daughter, Mary, who married Hugh +Chamberlain, M.D., physician to Queen Anne. Mrs. Behn has drawn his +character with remarkable accuracy. Even his enemies were obliged to +allow he possessed extraordinary ability, and he won all by the grace +and charm of his manner. Oldys, in a MS. note on Langbaine (Mrs. Behn), +attributes to the colonist <i>A Historical Discourse of the +Government of England</i> (1647), but the date of publication +sufficiently shows that the antiquary is palpably in error.</p> + +<p>Langbaine in his note on <i>The Widow Ranter</i> abruptly and +sweepingly remarks ‘Plot from the known story of Cassius,’ which the +<i>Biographia +<span class="pagenum">219</span> +Dramatica</i> yet more erroneously expands as follows: ‘The tragedy part +of it, particularly the catastrophe of Bacon, is borrowed from the +well-known story of Cassius, who, on the supposition of his friend +Brutus being defeated, caused himself to be put to death by the hand of +his freedman Dandarus.’ C. Cassius Longinus was defeated at +Philippi (<span class="smallroman">B.C.</span> 42), by Antony, and +ignorant that the left wing commanded by Brutus had conquered Octavius, +he straightway commanded his freedman Pindarus to put an end to his +life. It is strange that both authorities should have made this mistake, +the more so as Bacon expressly alludes to the fate of Hannibal, from +whose history, and not that of Cassius, Mrs Behn doubtless borrowed the +idea of her hero’s suicide. Cassius is indeed alluded to but casually, +and not by Bacon’s self. Hannibal had fled to the court of Prusias, King +of Bithynia, who, unable to resist the demands of the Romans, eventually +sent troops to arrest his guest. The great Carthaginian, however, having +provided himself with poison in case of such an event, swallowed the +venomed drug to prevent himself falling into the hands of his enemies. +Dullman, Timorous Cornet, Whimsey, Whiff, and the other Justices of the +Peace who appear in this play are aptly described in <i>Oroonoko</i>, +where Mrs. Behn speaks of the Governor’s Council ‘who (not to disgrace +them, or burlesque the Government there) consisted of such notorious +villains as Newgate ever transported; and, possibly, originally were +such who understood neither the laws of God or man, and had no sort of +principles to make them worthy of the name of men; but at the very +council-table would contradict and fight with one another, and swear so +bloodily, that it was terrible to hear and see them. (Some of them were +afterwards hanged, when the Dutch took possession of the place, others +sent off in chains.)’</p> + + +<h4><a name="widow_hist" id="widow_hist">THEATRICAL +HISTORY.</a></h4> + +<p>When <i>The Widow Ranter; or, The History of Bacon in Virginia</i> +was produced at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1690—the year +after Mrs. Behn’s death—owing to the slipshod and slovenly way in +which it was put on, or rather, ‘murdered’, to use the phrase of the +dedication, it did not meet with the success so capital a piece fully +deserved. Such ample and needless omissions were made that the intrigue +soon became hopelessly fogged, many incidents seeming absolutely +disjointed and superfluous. For not only were heavier scenes, including +the apparition of Cavernio, cut, but the essential comic relief was +woefully maltreated. The Court House opening of Act iii was expunged in +its entirety, whilst other episodes were so mangled and the speeches so +pruned that they proved practically unintelligible. Again, the play was +badly cast. Indifferent performers such as Barnes, Baker, Cudworth, were +entrusted with rôles they were incapable of acting, whilst Daring, the +dashing, gallant, and handsome young officer, who is loved by the Widow, +was alloted to Sanford, of all men most supremely unfitted for the part. +Indeed, it would seem that the casting was done on purpose perversely +and malignly to damn the play. Samuel Sanford, who had joined Davenant’s +company within a year of their opening, had been forced by nature, being +low of stature and crooked of person, rather than by choice, into a line +denoted by such characters as Iago, Creon in +<span class="pagenum">220</span> +Dryden and Lee’s <i>Oedipus</i>, Malignii, Osmund the wizard in <i>King +Arthur</i>. ‘An excellent actor in disagreeable characters’ Cibber terms +him, and old Aston sums him up thus: ‘Mr. <i>Sanford</i>, although not +usually deem’d an Actor of the first Rank, yet the Characters allotted +him were such, that none besides, then, or since, ever topp’d; for his +Figure, which was diminutive and mean, (being Round-shoulder’d, +Meagre-fac’d, Spindle-shank’d, Splay-footed, with a sour Countenance and +long lean Arms) render’d him a proper Person to discharge <i>Jago</i>, +<i>Foresight</i> and <i>Ma’lignij</i>, in the <i>Villain</i>.—This +Person acted strongly with his Face,—and (as King <i>Charles</i> +said) was the best <i>Villain</i> in the World.’ The performance of an +actor with such a marked personality and unpleasantly peculiar talents +as are thus enumerated, in the rôle of Daring must been grotesque and +distasteful to a degree. In such an accumulation of unfortunate +circumstances there could have been no other event than the failure of +the play, which was so complete as effectually to bar any chance of +subsequent revival. Indeed, there seems to have been only one feature of +any merit: Betty Currer, the original Aquilina in <i>Venice +Preserv’d</i>, acted the name part with the greatest spirit and +abandon.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">221</span> +<h4><a name="widow_dedic" id="widow_dedic"> </a><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag1" id="widow_texttag1" href="#widow_textnote1">To the much Honoured</a> <br> +<a class="comm" name="widow_commtag1" id="widow_commtag1" href="#widow_commnote1"><span class="extended">MADAM +WELLDO</span>N</a>.</h4> + +<p>Madam</p> + +<p>Knowing Mrs. <i>Behn</i> in her Life-time design’d to Dedicate some +of her Works to you, you have a Naturall Title, and claim to this and I +could not without being unjust to her Memory, but fix your Name to it, +who have not only a Wit above that of most of your Sex; but a goodness +and Affability Extreamly Charming, and Engaging beyond Measure, and +perhaps there are few to be found like you, that are so Eminent for +Hospitallity, and a Ready and Generous Assistance to the distress’d and +Indigent, which are Quallities that carry much more of Divinity with +them, than a Puritannicall outward Zeal for Virtue and Religion.</p> + +<p>Our Author, Madam, who was so true a Judge of Wit, was (no doubt of +it) satisfyed in the Patroness she had pitcht upon: If ever she had +occasion for a Wit and Sense like yours ’tis now, to Defend this (one of +the last of her Works) from the Malice of her Enemies, and the ill +Nature of the Critticks, who have had Ingratitude enough not to Consider +the Obligations they had to her when Living; but to do those Gentlemen +Justice, ’tis not (altogether) to be Imputed to their Critticism, that +the Play had not that Success which it deserv’d, and was expected by her +Friends; The main fault ought to lye on those who had the management of +it. Had our Authour been alive she would have Committed it to the Flames +rather than have suffer’d it to have been Acted with such Omissions as +was made, and on which the Foundation of the Play Depended: For Example, +they thought fit to leave out a Whole Scene of the <i>Virginian Court of +Judicature</i>, which was a lively resemblance of that Country-Justice; +and on which depended a great part of the Plot, and wherein were many +unusuall and very Naturall Jests which would at least have made some +sort of People laugh: In another Part of the Play is Omitted the +appearance of the Ghost of the <i>Indian King</i>, kill’d by +<i>Bacon</i>, and tho’ the like may have been Represented in other +Plays, yet I never heard or found but that the sight was very agreeable +to an Audience, and very Awfull: besides the Apparition of the Ghost was +necessary, for it was that which struck a Terror in the Queen, and +frighten’d her from heark’ning to the Love of <i>Bacon</i>, believing it +a horrid thing to receive the Caresses and Embraces of her Husbands +Murderer: And Lastly, many of the Parts being false Cast, and given to +<span class="pagenum">222</span> +those whose Tallants and Genius’s suited not our Author’s Intention: +These, Madam, are some of the Reasons that this Play was unsuccessfull, +and the best Play that ever was writ must prove so: if it have the Fate +to be Murder’d like this.</p> + +<p>However, Madam, I can’t but believe you will find an hours diversion +in the reading, and will meet with not only Wit, but true Comedy, (tho’ +low) by reason many of the Characters are such only as our +<i>Newgate</i> afforded, being Criminals Transported.</p> + +<p>This play, Madam, being left in my hands by the Author to Introduce +to the Publick, I thought my self oblig’d to say thus much in its +defence, and that it was also a Duty upon me to choose a Patroness +proper for it, and the Author having pitcht upon your Name to do Honour +to some of her Works, I thought your Protection, could be so +usefull to none, as to this, whose owning it may Silence the Malice of +its Enemies; Your Wit and Judgment being to be Submitted to in all +Cases; Besides your Natural Tenderness and Compassion for the +Unfortunate, gives you in a manner another Title to it: The Preference +which is due to you upon so many Accounts is therefore the Reason of +this present Address, for at the Worst, if this Play should be so +Unfortunate as not to be thought worthy of your Acceptance; Yet it is +certain, that its worth any Man’s while to have the Honour of +subscribing himself,</p> + +<p class="rightside center"> +Madam,<br> +Your Most Obedient Humble,<br> +Servant,</p> + +<p class="right"> +<a class="comm" name="widow_commtag2" id="widow_commtag2" href="#widow_commnote2">G. J.</a></p> + +</div> + + +<span class="pagenum">223</span> +<h3>THE WIDOW RANTER:<br> +Or, the History of Bacon in <i>Virginia</i>.</h3> + +<div class="play"> + +<h4><a name="widow_pro" id="widow_pro"> </a><a class="comm" +name="widow_commtag3" id="widow_commtag3" href="#widow_commnote3">PROLOGUE</a>, </h4> + +<p class="center">By Mr. <i>Dryden</i>.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">Heaven</span> save ye, Gallants; and this +hopeful Age,</p> +<p>Y’ are welcome to the downfal of the Stage:</p> +<p>The Fools have laboured long in their Vocation;</p> +<p>And Vice (the Manufacture of the Nation)</p> +<p>O’er-stocks the Town so much, and thrives so well,</p> +<p>That Fops and Knaves grow Drugs, and will not sell.</p> +<p>In vain our Wares on Theaters are shown,</p> +<p>When each has a Plantation of his own.</p> +<p>His <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag2" id="widow_texttag2" +href="#widow_textnote2">Cruse</a> ne’er fails; for whatsoe’er he +spends,</p> +<p>There’s still God’s plenty for himself and Friends.</p> +<p>Shou’d Men be rated by Poetick Rules,</p> +<p>Lord, what a <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag3" id="widow_texttag3" href="#widow_textnote3">Poll</a> would there be +rais’d from Fools!</p> +<p>Mean time poor Wit prohibited must lie,</p> +<p>As if ’twere made some <em>French</em> Commodity.</p> +<p>Fools you will have, and rais’d at vast expence;</p> +<p>And yet as soon as seen, they give offence.</p> +<p>Time was, when none would cry that Oaf was me,</p> +<p>But now you strive about your Pedigree:</p> +<p>Bauble and Cap no sooner are thrown down,</p> +<p>But there’s a <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag4" id="widow_commtag4" href="#widow_commnote4">Muss</a> of more than half +the Town.</p> +<p>Each one will challenge a Child’s part at least,</p> +<p>A sign the Family is well increas’d.</p> +<p>Of Foreign Cattle there’s no longer need,</p> +<p>When we’re supply’d so fast with <em>English</em> Breed,</p> +<span class="pagenum">224</span> +<p>Well! Flourish, Countrymen; drink, swear and roar,</p> +<p>Let every free-born Subject keep his Whore;</p> +<p>And wandring in the Wilderness about,</p> +<p>At end of Forty Years not wear her out.</p> +<p>But when you see these Pictures, let none dare</p> +<p>To own beyond a Limb or single share:</p> +<p>For where the Punk is common, he’s a Sot,</p> +<p>Who needs will father what the Parish got.</p> +</div> + +</div> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">225</span> + +<h4><a name="widow_cast" id="widow_cast"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag4" id="widow_texttag4" href="#widow_textnote4">DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</a> </h4> + +<table class="cast" summary="cast of characters"> +<tr> +<td class="header" colspan="2">MEN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Indian King</i> called <i>Cavernio</i>,</td> +<td> Mr. <i>Bowman</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Bacon</i>, General of the <i>English</i>,</td> +<td> Mr. <i>Williams</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Colonel <i>Wellman</i>, Deputy Governor,</td> +<td> Mr. <i>Freeman</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Col. <i>Downright</i>, a loyal honest Colonel,</td> +<td> Mr. <i>Harris</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> + <table class="inner" summary="grouped names"> + <tr> + <td> + <i>Hazard</i><br> + <i>Friendly</i> + </td> + <td class="bracket"> + <p>Two Friends known to one another many Years in <i>England</i>,</p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> +</td> +<td class="bracket flip"> +Mr. <i>Alexander</i>,<br> +Mr. <i>Powell</i>. +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> + <table class="inner" summary="grouped names"> + <tr> + <td> + <i>Daring</i><br> + <i>Fearless</i> + </td> + <td class="bracket"> + <p>Lieutenant Generals to <i>Bacon</i></p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> +</td> +<td class="bracket flip"> +Mr. <i>Sandford</i>,<br> +Mr. <i>Cudworth</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Dullman</i>, a Captain,</td> +<td> Mr. <i>Bright</i>.</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> + <table class="inner" summary="grouped names"> + <tr> + <td><i>Timorous Cornet</i>,<br> + <i>Whimsey</i>,<br> + <i>Whiff</i>,<br> + <i>Boozer</i>, + </td> + <td class="bracket" style="background-image: +url(images/bracket3.gif);"> + <p>Justices of the Peace, and very great Cowards,</p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> +</td> +<td class="bracket" style="background-image: +url(images/bracket3_rt.gif);"> +Mr. <i>Underhill</i>,<br> +Mr. <i>Trefuse</i>,<br> +Mr. <i>Bowen</i>,<br> +Mr. <i>Barns</i>. +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td><i>Brag</i>, a Captain.</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> + <table class="inner" summary="grouped names"> + <tr> + <td><i>Grubb</i>,</td> + <td class="bracket flip"> + <p>One complain’d of by Capt. <i>Whiff</i>, for calling his Wife +Whore.</p></td> + </tr> + </table> +</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>A Petitioner against <i>Brag</i>,</td> +<td> Mr. <i>Blunt</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Parson <i>Dunce</i>, formerly a Farrier, fled from +<i>England</i>, and Chaplain to the Governour,</p></td> +<td class="bracket">Mr. <i>Baker</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Jeffery</i>, Coachman to <i>Widow Ranter</i>.</p> +<p><i>Cavaro</i>, an <i>Indian</i>, Confidant to the <i>Indian +King</i>.</p> +<p><i>Jack</i>, a Sea-Boy.</p> +</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="toppad" colspan="2"> +<p>Clerk; Boy; An Officer; Messenger; Seaman; 2nd Seaman; +A Highlander.</p> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="header" colspan="2">WOMEN.</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><p><i>Indian Queen</i>, call’d <i>Semernia</i>, belov’d by +<i>Bacon</i>,</p></td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Bracegirdle</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Madam <i>Surelove</i>, belov’d by <i>Hazard</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Knight</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mrs. <i>Chrisante</i>, Daughter to Colonel +<i>Downright</i>,</p></td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Jordan</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Widow Ranter</i>, in love with <i>Daring</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Currer</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Mrs. <i>Flirt</i>, a Tapstress,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Cory</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p>Mrs. <i>Whimsey</i>.</p> +<p>Mrs. <i>Whiff</i>.</p> +<p><i>Jenny</i>, Maid to <i>Widow Ranter</i>.</p> +<p><i>Nell</i>, Maid at the Inn.</p> +<p><i>Anaria</i>, Confidante to the <i>Indian Queen</i>.</p> +<p>Maid to Madam <i>Surelove</i>.</p> +</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="toppad" colspan="2"> +<p>Priests, Indians, Bailiffs, Soldiers, Rabble, Negroes, with other +Attendants.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<h4>SCENE, <i>Virginia</i>: in <i>Bacon’s</i> Camp, <i>James-Town</i> +and the surrounding Country.</h4> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">226</span> + +<div class="play"> + +<h3 class="act"><a name="widow_actI" id="widow_actI"> +ACT I.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actI_sceneI" id="widow_actI_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +A Room with several Tables.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Hazard</em> in a travelling Habit, and <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag5" id="widow_texttag5" href="#widow_textnote5"><em>Jack</em></a>, a Sea-Boy, carrying his +Portmantle.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +What Town’s this, Boy?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +<i>James-Town</i>, Master.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Take care my Trunk be brought ashore to night, and there’s for your +Pains.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +God bless you, Master.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +What do you call this House?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +Mrs. <i>Flirt’s</i>, Master, the best House for Commendation in all +<i>Virginia</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +That’s well, has she any handsome Ladies, Sirrah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +Oh! she’s woundy handsome her self, Master, and the kindest +Gentlewoman—look, here she comes, Master.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag6" id="widow_texttag6" href="#widow_textnote6">Enter <em>Flirt</em> and <em>Nell</em>.</a></p> + +<p>God bless you, Mistress, I have brought you a young Gentleman +here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +That’s well, honest <i>Jack</i>.—Sir, you are most heartily +welcome.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Madam, your Servant. +<span class="stagedir"> +Salutes her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Please you walk into a Chamber, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +By and by, Madam; but I’ll repose here awhile for the coolness of the +Air.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +This is a Publick Room, Sir, but ’tis at your service.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Madam, you oblige me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +A fine spoken Person. A Gentleman, I’ll warrant him: come, <i>Jack</i>, +I’ll give thee <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag5" id="widow_commtag5" href="#widow_commnote5">a Cogue of Brandy</a> for old +acquaintance. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt Landlady and Boy.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<em>Hazard</em> pulls out Pen, Ink and Paper, and goes to write.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">227</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Friendly</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Here, <i>Nell</i>, a Tankard of cool Drink, quickly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Nell.</span> +You shall have it, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Hah! who’s that Stranger? he seems to be a Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +If I should give credit to mine Eyes, that should be +<i>Friendly</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Sir, you seem a Stranger; may I take the liberty to present my Service +to you? +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag7" id="widow_texttag7" href="#widow_textnote7">Exit <em>Nell</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +If I am not mistaken, Sir, you are the only Man in the World whom I +would soonest pledge; you’ll credit me, if three Year’s absence has not +made you forget <i>Hazard</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +<i>Hazard</i>, my Friend! come to my Arms and Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +This unexpected Happiness o’erjoys me. Who could have imagin’d to have +found thee in <i>Virginia</i>? I thought thou hadst been in +<i>Spain</i> with thy Brother.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +I was so till ten Months since, when my Uncle Colonel <i>Friendly</i> +dying here, left me a considerable Plantation; and, faith, I find +Diversions not altogether to be despis’d; the God of Love reigns here +with as much power as in Courts or popular Cities. But prithee what +Chance (fortunate to me) drove thee to this part of the new World.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Why, faith, ill Company, and that common Vice of the Town, Gaming, soon +run out my younger Brother’s Fortune: for imagining, like some of the +luckier Gamesters, to improve my Stock at the <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag6" id="widow_commtag6" href="#widow_commnote6">Groom +Porter’s</a>, <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag8" id="widow_texttag8" href="#widow_textnote8">I </a>ventur’d on, and +lost all. My elder Brother, an errant Jew, had neither Friendship nor +Honour enough to support me; but at last being mollified by Persuasions, +and the hopes of <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag9" id="widow_texttag9" href="#widow_textnote9">being</a> for ever rid of me, +sent me hither with a small Cargo to seek my Fortune—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +And begin the World withal.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I thought this a better Venture than to turn sharping Bully, <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag10" id="widow_texttag10" href="#widow_textnote10">Cully in</a> Prentices and Country Squires, with my +Pocket full of false Dice, your <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag7" id="widow_commtag7" href="#widow_commnote7">high +and low Flats and +<span class="pagenum">228</span> +Bars</a>; or turn Broker to young Heirs; take up Goods to pay tenfold at +the Death of their Fathers, and take Fees on both sides; or set up all +night at the Groom-Porter’s, begging his Honour to go a Guinea the +better of the lay. No, <i>Friendly</i>, I had rather starve abroad, +than live pity’d and despis’d at home.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Thou art in the right, and art come just in the nick of time to make thy +Fortune.—Wilt thou follow my Advice?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Thou art too honest to command <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag11" id="widow_texttag11" href="#widow_textnote11">any +thing</a> that I shall refuse.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +You must know then, there is about a Mile from <i>James-Town</i> a young +Gentlewoman—no matter for her Birth, her Breeding’s the best this +World affords, she is married to one of the richest Merchants here; he +is old and sick, and now gone into <i>England</i> for the recovery of +his Health, where he’ll e’en give up the Ghost: he has writ her word he +finds no Amendment, and resolves to stay another Year. The letter I +accidentally took up, and have about me; ’tis easily counterfeited, and +will be of great use to us.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Now do I fancy I conceive thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Well, hear me first, you shall get another Letter writ like this +Character, which shall say, you are his Kinsman, that is come to +traffick in this Country, and ’tis his will you should be received into +his House as such.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Well, and what will come of this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Why, thou art young and handsome, she young and desiring; ’twere easy to +make her love thee; and if the old Gentleman chance to die, you guess +the rest, you are no Fool.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Ay, but if he shou’d return—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +If—Why, if she love you, that other will be but a slender Bar to +thy Happiness; for if thou canst not marry her, thou mayst lie with her: +and, Gad, a younger Brother may pick out a pretty Livelihood here +that way, +<span class="pagenum">229</span> +as well as in <i>England</i>. Or if this <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag12" id="widow_texttag12" href="#widow_textnote12">fail, thou</a> wilt find a perpetual Visiter, the +Widow <i>Ranter</i>, a Woman bought from the ship by old Colonel +<i>Ranter</i>; she served him half a Year, and then he marry’d her, and +dying in a Year more, left her worth fifty thousand Pounds Sterling, +besides Plate and Jewels: She’s a great Gallant, but assuming the humour +of the Country Gentry, her Extravagancy is very pleasant, she retains +something of her primitive Quality still, but is good-natur’d and +generous.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I like all this well.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +But I have a further End in this matter; you must know there is in the +same House a young Heiress, one Colonel <i>Downright’s</i> Daughter, +whom I love, I think not in vain: her Father indeed has an +implacable Hatred to me, for which reason I can but seldom visit her, +and in this Affair I have need of a Friend in that House.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Me you’re sure of.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +And thus you’ll have an opportunity to manage both our Amours: Here you +will find occasion to shew your Courage, as well as express your Love; +for at this time the <i>Indians</i>, by our ill Management of Trade, +whom we have armed against our selves, very frequently make War upon us +with our own Weapons; though often coming by the worst, they are forced +to make Peace with us again, but so, as upon every turn they fall to +massacring us <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag13" id="widow_texttag13" href="#widow_textnote13">wherever</a> we lie exposed +to them.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I heard the News of this in <i>England</i>, which hastens the new +Governour’s arrival here, who brings you fresh Supplies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Would he were landed, we hear he is a noble Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +He has all the Qualities of a Gallant Man: besides, he is nobly +born.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +This Country wants nothing but to be peopled with a well-born Race, to +make it one of the best Colonies in the World; but for want of a +Governour we are ruled +<span class="pagenum">230</span> +by a Council, some of <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag14" id="widow_texttag14" href="#widow_textnote14">whom</a> have been perhaps +transported Criminals, who having acquired great Estates, are now become +your Honour and Right Worshipful, and possess all Places of Authority; +there are amongst them some honest Gentlemen, who now begin to take upon +’em, and manage Affairs as they ought to be.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +<i>Bacon</i> I think was one of the Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Now you have named a Man indeed above the common Rank, by Nature +generous, brave, resolv’d and daring; who studying the Lives of the +<i>Romans</i> and great Men, that have raised themselves to the most +elevated Fortunes, fancies it easy for ambitious Men to aim at any pitch +of Glory. I’ve heard him often say, Why cannot I conquer the Universe as +well as <i>Alexander</i>? or like another <i>Romulus</i>, form a new +<i>Rome</i>, and make my self ador’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Why might he not? Great Souls are born in common Men sometimes, as well +as Princes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +This Thirst of Glory cherish’d by sullen Melancholy, I believe, was +the first motive that made him in love with the young <i>Indian</i> +Queen, fancying no Hero ought to be without his Princess. And this was +the reason why he so earnestly press’d for a Commission, to be made +General against the <i>Indians</i>, which long was promis’d him; but +they fearing his Ambition, still put him off, till the Grievances grew +so high, that the whole Country flock’d to him, and beg’d he would +redress them.—He took the opportunity, and led them forth to +fight, and vanquishing brought the Enemy to fair Terms; but now instead +of receiving him as a Conqueror, we treat him as a Traitor.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Then it seems all the Crime this brave Fellow has committed, is serving +his Country without Authority.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +’Tis so, and however I admire the Man, I am resolv’d to be of the +contrary Party, that I may make an Interest in our new Governor. Thus +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag15" id="widow_texttag15" href="#widow_textnote15">stand</a> Affairs, so that after you have seen Madam +<i>Surelove</i>, I’ll present you to the Council for a Commission.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">231</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +But my Kinsman’s Character—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +He was a <i>Leicestershire</i> younger Brother, came over with a small +Fortune, which his Industry has increas’d to a thousand Pounds a year; +and he is now Colonel <i>John Surelove</i>, and one of the Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Enough.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +About it then, Madam <i>Flirt</i> to direct you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +You are full of your Madams here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Oh! ’tis the greatest Affront imaginable to call a Woman Mistress, +though but a retail Brandy-monger. Adieu.—One thing more, to +morrow is our Country-Court, pray do not fail to be there, for the +rarity of the Entertainment: but I shall see you anon at +<i>Surelove’s</i>, where I’ll salute thee as my first meeting, and as an +old Acquaintance in <i>England</i>—here’s Company, farewel. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Friend</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Dullman</em>, <em>Timorous</em> and <em>Boozer</em>. +<em>Hazard</em> sits at a Table and writes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Here, <i>Nell</i>—Well, Lieutenant <i>Boozer</i>, what are you +for?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Nell</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +I am for cooling <i>Nants</i>, Major.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Here, <i>Nell</i>, a Quart of <i>Nants</i>, and some Pipes and <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag16" id="widow_texttag16" href="#widow_textnote16">Smoke</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +And do ye hear, <i>Nell</i>, bid your Mistress come in to joke a little +with us; for, adzoors, I was damnable drunk last Night, and I am +better at the Petticoat than the Bottle to day. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag17" id="widow_texttag17" href="#widow_textnote17">Exit <em>Nell</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Drunk last Night, and sick to Day! how comes that about, Mr. Justice? +you use to bear your Brandy well enough.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, your <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag8" id="widow_commtag8" +href="#widow_commnote8">shier</a> Brandy I’ll grant you; but I was +drunk at Col. <i>Downright’s</i> with your high Burgundy Claret.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +A Pox of that <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag9" id="widow_commtag9" href="#widow_commnote9">paulter</a> Liquor, your +<i>English French</i> Wine, I wonder how the Gentlemen do to drink +it.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">232</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, so do I, ’tis for want of a little <i>Virginia</i> Breeding: how +much more like a Gentleman ’tis, to drink as we do, brave edifying Punch +and Brandy.—But they say, the young Noblemen now, and Sparks in +<i>England</i>, begin to reform, and take it for their Mornings draught, +get drunk by Noon, and despise the lousy Juice of the Grape.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Mrs. <em>Flirt</em>, <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag19" +id="widow_texttag19" href="#widow_textnote19">and <em>Nell</em>, +with drink, pipes, etc.</a></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Come, Landlady, come, you are so taken up with Parson <i>Dunce</i>, that +your old Friends can’t drink a Dram with you.—What, no smutty +Catch now, no Gibe or Joke to make the Punch go down merrily, and +advance Trading? Nay, they say, Gad forgive ye, you never miss going to +Church when Mr. <i>Dunce</i> preaches,—but here’s to you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Lords, your Honours are pleas’d to be merry— but my service to +your Honour. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Honours! who the Devil have we here? some of the wise Council at least, +I’d sooner <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag20" id="widow_texttag20" href="#widow_textnote20">take</a> ’em for <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag10" id="widow_commtag10" href="#widow_commnote10">Hoggerds</a>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Say what you please of the Doctor, but I’ll swear he’s a fine Gentleman, +he makes the prettiest Sonnets, nay, and sings ’em himself to the rarest +Tunes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Nay, the Man will serve for both Soul and Body; for they say he was a +Farrier in <i>England</i>, but breaking, turn’d Life-guard-man, and his +Horse dying, he counterfeited a Deputation from the Bishop, and came +over here a substantial Orthodox. But come, where stands the Cup? Here, +my service to you, Major.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Your Honours are pleased,—but methinks Doctor <i>Dunce</i> is a +very edifying Person, and a Gentleman, and I pretend to know a +Gentleman; for I my self am a Gentlewoman: my Father was a Baronet, but +undone in the late Rebellion, and I am fain to keep <a class="notes" +name="widow_texttag21" id="widow_texttag21" href="#widow_textnote21">an</a> Ordinary now, Heaven help me.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">233</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Good lack, why, see how Virtue may be bely’d. We heard your Father was a +Taylor, but <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag11" id="widow_commtag11" href="#widow_commnote11">trusting for old +<i>Oliver’s</i> Funeral broke</a>, and so came hither to hide his +Head.—But my service to you; what, you are never the worse?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Your Honour knows this is a scandalous place, for they say your Honour +was but a broken Excise-Man, who spent the King’s Money to buy your Wife +fine Petticoats; and at last not worth a Groat, you came over a poor +Servant, though now a Justice of the Peace, and of the Honourable +Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Adz zoors, if I knew who ’twas said so, I’d sue him for <i>Scandalum +Magnatum</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Hang ’em, Scoundrels, hang ’em, they live upon Scandal, and we are +Scandal-proof.—They say too, that I was a Tinker, and running the +Country, robb’d a Gentleman’s House there, was put into <i>Newgate</i>, +got a Reprieve after Condemnation, and was transported hither; +—and that you, <i>Boozer</i>, was a common Pick-pocket, and being +often flogg’d at the Carts-tale, afterwards turn’d Evidence, and when +the Times grew honest was fain to flie.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Ay, ay, Major, if Scandal would have broke our Hearts, we had not +arriv’d to the Honour of being Privy-Counsellors.—But come, Mrs. +<i>Flirt</i>, what, never a Song to entertain us?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Yes, and a Singer too newly come ashore.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Adz zoors, let’s have it then.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a Girl who sings, <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag12" id="widow_commtag12" href="#widow_commnote12">they bear the Bob</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Here, Maid, a Tankard of your Drink.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Quickly, <i>Nell</i>, wait upon the Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Please you, Sir, to taste of our Liquor.—My service to you. +I see you are a Stranger, and alone; please you to come to our +Table? +<span class="stagedir"> +He rises and comes.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Come, Sir, pray sit down here; these are very honourable Persons, +I assure you: This is Major <i>Dullman</i>, +<span class="pagenum">234</span> +Major of his Excellency’s own Regiment, when he arrives; this Mr. +<i>Timorous</i>, Justice a Peace in <i>Corum</i>; this Captain +<i>Boozer</i>, all of the honourable Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +With your leave, Gentlemen. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sits.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +My service to you, Sir. +<span class="stagedir continue">Drinks.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +What, have you brought over any Cargo, Sir? I’ll be your Customer.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Ay, and cheat him too, I’ll warrant him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I was not bred to Merchandizing, Sir, nor do intend to follow the +drudgery of Trading.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Men of Fortune seldom travel hither, Sir, to see Fashions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Why, Brother, it may be the Gentleman has a mind to be a Planter; will +you hire your self to make a Crop of Tobacco this Year?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I was not born to work, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Not work, Sir! Zoors, your Betters have workt, Sir. I have workt my +self, Sir, both set and stript Tobacco, for all I am of the honourable +Council. Not work, quoth a!—I suppose, Sir, you wear your +Fortune upon your Back, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Is it your Custom here, Sir, to affront Strangers? I shall expect +Satisfaction. +<span class="stagedir"> +Rises.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Why, does any body here owe you any thing?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +No, unless he means to be paid for drinking with us,—ha, ha, +ha.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +No, Sir, I have money to pay for what I drink: here’s my Club, my +Guinea, +<span class="stagedir continue">Flings down a <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag23" id="widow_texttag23" href="#widow_textnote23">Guinea</a>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +I scorn to be oblig’d to such Scoundrels.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Hum—call Men of Honour Scoundrels. +<span class="stagedir"> +Rise in huff.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Let him alone, let him alone, Brother; how should he learn Manners? he +never was in <i>Virginia</i> before.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +He’s some Covent-Garden Bully.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Or some broken Citizen turned Factor.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">235</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Sir, you lye, and you are a Rascal. +<span class="stagedir"> +Flings the Brandy in his Face.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Adz zoors, he has spil’d all the Brandy. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Tim.</em> runs behind the Door, <em>Dull</em>, and <em>Booz.</em> +strike <em>Hazard</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I understand no Cudgel-play, but wear a Sword to right myself. +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws, they run off.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Good Heavens! what, quarelling in my House?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Do the Persons of Quality in this Country treat Strangers thus?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Alas, Sir, ’tis a familiar way they have, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I’m glad I know it.—Pray, Madam, can you inform one how I may be +furnish’d with a Horse and a Guide to Madam <i>Surelove’s</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +A most accomplish’d Lady, and my very good Friend, you shall be +immediately—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actI_sceneII" id="widow_actI_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag24" id="widow_texttag24" href="#widow_textnote24">The Council-Table.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wellman</em>, <em>Downright</em>, <em>Dunce</em>, +<em>Whimsey</em>, <em>Whiff</em>, and others.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Come, Mr. <i>Dunce</i>, though you are no Counsellor, yet your Counsel +may be good in time of Necessity, as now.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +If I may <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag25" id="widow_texttag25" href="#widow_textnote25">give</a> worthy Advice, +I do not look upon our Danger to be so great from the +<i>Indians</i>, as from young <i>Bacon</i>, whom the People have +nick-nam’d <i>Fright-all</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Ay, ay, that same <i>Bacon</i>, I would he were well hang’d: +I am afraid that under pretence of killing all the <i>Indians</i> +he means to murder us, lie with our Wives, and hang up our little +Children, and make himself Lord and King.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Brother <i>Whimsey</i>, not so hot; with leave of the honourable Board, +my Wife is of opinion, that <i>Bacon</i> came seasonably to our Aid, and +what he has done was for our Defence, the <i>Indians</i> came down upon +us, and ravish’d us all, Men, Women, and Children.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">236</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +If these Grievances were not redrest, we had our Reasons for it; it was +not that we were insensible, Captain <i>Whiff</i>, of what we suffer’d +from the Insolence of the <i>Indians</i>; but all knew what we must +expect from <i>Bacon</i>, if that by lawful Authority he had arrived to +so great a Command as General; nor would we be hufft out of our +Commissions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +’Tis most certain that <i>Bacon</i> did not demand a Commission out of a +design of serving us, but to satisfy his Ambition and his Love; it being +no secret that he passionately admires the <i>Indian</i> Queen, and +under the pretext of a War, intends to kill the King her Husband, +establish himself in her Heart, and on all occasions <a class="notes" +name="widow_texttag26" id="widow_texttag26" href="#widow_textnote26">make</a> himself a more formidable Enemy than the +Indians are.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Nay, nay, I ever foresaw he would prove a Villain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Nay, and he be thereabout, my <i>Nancy</i> shall have no more to do with +him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +But, Gentlemen, the People daily flock to him, so that his Army is too +considerable for us to oppose by any thing but Policy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +We are sensible, Gentlemen, that our Fortunes, our Honours, and our +Lives are at stake; and therefore you are call’d together to consult +what’s to be done in this Grand Affair, till our Governour and Forces +arrive from <i>England</i>: the Truce he made with the <i>Indians</i> +will be out to morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay, and then he intends to have another bout with the <i>Indians</i>. +Let’s have patience, I say, till he has thrumb’d their Jackets, and +then to work with your Politicks as soon as you please.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Colonel <i>Wellman</i> has answer’d that point, good Captain +<i>Whiff</i>; ’tis the Event of this Battel we ought to dread; and if +won or lost, will be equally fatal for us, either from the +<i>Indians</i> or from <i>Bacon</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +With the Permission of the honourable Board, I think I have hit +upon an Expedient that may prevent this Battel: your Honours shall write +a Letter to <i>Bacon</i>, +<span class="pagenum">237</span> +where you shall acknowledge his Services, invite him kindly home, and +offer him a Commission for General—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Just my <i>Nancy’s</i> Counsel—Dr. <i>Dunce</i> has spoken like a +Cherubin, he shall have my Voice for General; what say you, Brother +<i>Whimsey</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag27" +id="widow_texttag27" href="#widow_textnote27">Down.</a></span> +I say he is a Noble Fellow, and fit for a General.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +But conceive me right, Gentlemen; as soon as he shall have render’d +himself, seize him, and strike off his Head at the Fort.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Hum! his Head—Brother.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Ay, ay, Dr. <i>Dunce</i> speaks like a Cherubin.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Mr. <i>Dunce</i>, your Counsel in extremity, I confess, is not +amiss; but I should be loth to deal dishonourably with any Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +His Crimes deserve Death, his Life is forfeited by Law, but shall never +be taken by my consent by Treachery: If by any Stratagem we could take +him alive, and either send him for <i>England</i> to receive there his +Punishment, or keep him Prisoner here till the Governour arrive, +I should agree to it; but I question his coming in upon our +Invitation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Leave that to me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Come, I’ll warrant him, the Rogue’s as stout as <i>Hector</i>, he fears +neither Heaven nor Hell.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +He’s too brave and bold to refuse our Summons, and I am for sending him +for <i>England</i>, and leaving him to the King’s Mercy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +In that you’ll find more difficulty, Sir; to take him off here will be +more quick and sudden: for the People worship him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I’ll never yield to so ungenerous an Expedient. The seizing him I am +content in the Extremity wherein we are to follow. What say you, Colonel +<i>Downright</i>? shall we send him a Letter now, while this two days +Truce lasts, between him and the <i>Indians</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +I approve it.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">238</span> +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +And I, and I, and I.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +If your Honours please to make me the Messenger, I’ll use some Arguments +of my own to prevail with him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +You say well, Mr. <i>Dunce</i>, and we’ll dispatch you presently.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Well.</em> <em>Down.</em> and all but <em>Whim.</em> +<em>Whiff.</em> and <em>Dunce</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ah, Doctor, if you could but have persuaded Colonel <i>Wellman</i> and +Colonel <i>Downright</i> to have hanged him—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Why, Brother <i>Whiff</i>, you were for making him a General but +now.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +The Counsels of wise States-men, Brother <i>Whimsey</i>, must change as +Causes do, d’ye see.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Your Honours are in the right; and whatever those two leading +Counsellors say, they would be glad if <i>Bacon</i> were dispatch’d: but +the punctilio of Honour is such a thing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Honour, a Pox on’t; what is that Honour that keeps such a bustle in the +World, yet never did good as I heard of?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Why, ’tis a foolish word only, taken up by great Men, but rarely +practis’d.—But if you wou’d be great Men indeed—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag28" id="widow_texttag28" href="#widow_textnote28">If we wou’d</a>, Doctor, name, name the way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Why, you command each of you a Company—when <i>Bacon</i> comes +from the Camp, as I am sure he will, (and full of this silly thing +call’d Honour, will come unguarded too) lay some of your Men in Ambush +along those Ditches by the <i>Sevana</i>, about a Mile from the Town; +and as he comes by, seize him, and hang him up upon the next Tree.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Hum—hang him! a rare Plot.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Hang him!—we’ll do’t, we’ll do’t, Sir, and I doubt not but to be +made General for the Action—I’ll take it all upon my self. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">239</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +If you resolve upon this, you must about instantly—Thus I shall at +once serve my Country, and revenge my self on the Rascal for affronting +my Dignity once at the Council-Table, by calling me Farrier. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Dr.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Do you know, Brother, what we are to do?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +To do! yes, to hang a General, Brother, that’s all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +All! but is it lawful to hang any General?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Lawful, yes, that ’tis lawful to hang any General that fights against +Law.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +But in what he has done, he has serv’d the King and our Country, and +preserv’d our Lives and Fortunes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +That’s all one, Brother; if there be but a Quirk in the Law offended in +this Case, though he fought like <i>Alexander</i>, and preserv’d the +whole World from Perdition, yet if he did it against Law, ’tis lawful to +hang him; why, what, Brother, is it fit that every impudent Fellow that +pretends to a little Honour, Loyalty, and Courage, should serve his King +and Country against the Law? no, no, Brother, these things are not to be +suffer’d in a civil Government by Law establish’d,—wherefore let’s +about it.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actI_sceneIII" id="widow_actI_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +<em>Surelove’s</em> House.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ranter</em> and <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag29" id="widow_texttag29" href="#widow_textnote29"><em>Jeffery</em></a> her +Coachman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Here, <i>Jeffery</i>, ye drunken Dog, set your Coach and Horses up, I’ll +not go till the cool of the Evening, I love to ride in +<i>Fresco</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a <em>Boy</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Coach.</span> +Yes, after hard drinking— +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +It shall be done, Madam. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag30" id="widow_texttag30" href="#widow_textnote30">Exit.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +How now, Boy, is Madam <i>Surelove</i> at home?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +Yes, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Go tell her I am here, Sirrah.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">240</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +Who are you pray forsooth?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Why, you Son <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag31" id="widow_texttag31" href="#widow_textnote31">of a Baboon</a>, don’t you +know me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +No, Madam, I came over but in the last Ship.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +What, from <i>Newgate</i> or <i>Bridewell</i>? from <a class="comm" +name="widow_commtag13" id="widow_commtag13" href="#widow_commnote13">shoveing the Tumbler</a>, Sirrah, <a class="comm" +name="widow_commtag14" id="widow_commtag14" href="#widow_commnote14">lifting</a> or <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag15" id="widow_commtag15" href="#widow_commnote15">filing the Cly</a>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Boy.</span> +I don’t understand this Country Language, forsooth, yet.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +You Rogue, ’tis what we transport from <i>England</i> first—go, ye +Dog, go tell your Lady the Widow <i>Ranter</i> is come to dine with +her— +<span class="aside">Exit <em>Boy</em>.</span> +I hope I shall not find that Rogue <i>Daring</i> here sniveling +after Mrs. <i>Chrisante</i>: If I do, by the Lord, I’ll lay him thick. +Pox on him, why shou’d I love the Dog, unless it be a Judgment upon +me.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Surelove</em> and <em>Chrisante</em>.</p> + +<p>—My dear Jewel, how do’st do?—as for you, Gentlewoman, +you are my Rival, and I am in Rancour against you till you have +renounc’d my <i>Daring</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +All the Interest I have in him, Madam, I resign to you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Ay, but your House lying so near the Camp, gives me mortal +Fears—but prithee how thrives thy Amour with honest +<i>Friendly</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +As well as an Amour can that is absolutely forbid by a Father on one +side, and pursued by a good Resolution on the other.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Hay Gad, I’ll warrant for <i>Friendly’s</i> Resolution, what though his +Fortune be not answerable to yours, we are bound to help one +another.—Here, Boy, some Pipes and a Bowl of Punch; you know my +Humour, Madam, I must smoak and drink in a Morning, or I am maukish +all day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +But will you drink Punch in a Morning?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Punch! ’tis my Morning’s Draught, my Table-drink, my Treat, my <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag16" id="widow_commtag16" href="#widow_commnote16">Regalio</a>, my every thing; ah, my dear +<i>Surelove</i>, if thou wou’d but refresh and cheer thy +<span class="pagenum">241</span> +Heart with Punch in a Morning, thou wou’dst not look thus cloudy all the +day.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Pipes and a great Bowl, she falls to smoaking.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +I have reason, Madam, to be melancholy, I have receiv’d a Letter +from my Husband, who gives me an account that he is worse in +<i>England</i> than when he was here, so that I fear I shall see him no +more, the Doctors can do no good on him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +A very good hearing. I wonder what the Devil thou hast done with him so +long? an old fusty weatherbeaten Skeleton, as dried as Stock-fish, and +much of the Hue.—Come, come, here’s to the next, may he be young, +Heaven, I beseech thee. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +You have reason to praise an old Man, who dy’d and left you worth fifty +thousand <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag33" id="widow_texttag33" href="#widow_textnote33">Pound</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Ay, Gad—and what’s better, Sweetheart, dy’d in good time too, and +left me young enough to spend this fifty thousand <a class="notes" +href="#widow_texttag33">Pound</a> in better Company—rest his +Soul for that too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +I doubt ’twill be all laid out in <i>Bacon’s</i> mad Lieutenant General +<i>Daring</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Faith, I think I could lend it the Rogue on good Security.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +What’s that, to be bound Body for Body?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Rather that he should love no body’s Body besides my own; but my fortune +is too good to trust the Rogue, my Money makes me an Infidel.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +You think they all love you for that.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +For that, ay, what else? if it were not for that, I might sit still +and sigh, and cry out, a Miracle! a Miracle! at sight of a Man +within my Doors.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maid</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +Madam, here’s a young Gentleman without wou’d speak with you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +With me? sure thou’rt mistaken; is it not <i>Friendly</i>?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">242</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +No, Madam, ’tis a Stranger.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +’Tis not <i>Daring</i>, that Rogue, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +No, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Is he handsome? does he look like a Gentleman?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +He’s handsome, and seems a Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Bring him in then, I hate a Conversation without a +Fellow,—hah,—a good handsome Lad indeed.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Hazard</em> with a Letter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +With me, Sir, would you speak?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +If you are Madam <i>Surelove</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +So I am call’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Madam, I am newly arriv’d from <i>England</i>, and from your Husband my +Kinsman bring you this.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives a Letter.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Please you to sit, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +She’s extremely handsome. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside—sits down.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Come, Sir, will you smoke a Pipe?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I never do, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Oh, fie upon’t, you must learn then, we all smoke here, ’tis a part of +good Breeding.—Well, well, what Cargo, what Goods have ye? any +Points, Lace, rich Stuffs, Jewels; if you have, I’ll be your Chafferer, +I live hard by, any body will direct you to the Widow +<i>Ranter’s</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I have already heard of you, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +What, you are like all the young Fellows, the first thing they do when +they come to a strange Place, is to enquire what Fortunes there are.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Madam, I had no such Ambition.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Gad, then you’re a Fool, Sir; but come, my service to you; we rich +Widows are the best Commodity this Country affords, I’ll tell you +that.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +This while <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag34" id="widow_texttag34" href="#widow_textnote34"><em>Sure.</em> reads</a> +the Letter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Sir, my Husband has recommended you here in a most particular manner, by +which I do not only find the esteem he has for you, but the desire he +has of gaining you +<span class="pagenum">243</span> +mine, which on a double score I render you, first for his sake, next for +those Merits that appear in your self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Madam, the endeavours of my Life shall be to express my Gratitude for +this great Bounty.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maid</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +Madam, Mr. <i>Friendly’s</i> here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Bring him in.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +<i>Friendly!</i>—I had a dear Friend of that name, who I hear is +in these Parts.—Pray Heaven it may be he.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +How now, <i>Charles</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Friendly</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Madam, your Servant—Hah! should not I know you for my dear friend +<i>Hazard</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Embracing him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Or you’re to blame, my <i>Friendly</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Prithee what calm brought thee ashore?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Fortune <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag35" id="widow_texttag35" href="#widow_textnote35"><i>de la guerre</i></a>, +but prithee ask me no Questions in so good Company, where a Minute lost +from this Conversation is a Misfortune not to be retriev’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Dost like her, Rogue— +<span class="stagedir"> +Softly aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Like her! have I sight, or sense?—Why, I adore her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Mrs. <i>Chrisante</i>, I heard your Father would not be here to day, +which made me snatch this opportunity of seeing you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Come, come, a Pox of this whining Love, it spoils good Company.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +You know, my dear Friend, these Opportunities come but seldom, and +therefore I must make use of them.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Come, come, I’ll give you a better Opportunity at my House to morrow, we +are to eat a Buffalo there, and I’ll secure the old Gentleman from +coming.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Then I shall see <i>Chrisante</i> once more before I go.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Go—Heavens—whither, my <i>Friendly</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +I have received a Commission to go against the <i>Indians</i>, +<i>Bacon</i> being sent for home.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">244</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +But will he come when sent for?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +If he refuse we are to endeavour to force him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +I do not think he will be forc’d, not even by <i>Friendly</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +And, faith, it goes against my Conscience to lift my Sword against him, +for he is truly brave, and what he has done, a Service to the +Country, had it but been by Authority.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +What pity ’tis there should be such false Maxims in the World, that +noble Actions, however great, must be criminal for want of a Law to +authorise ’em.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Indeed ’tis pity that when Laws are faulty they should not be mended or +abolish’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Hark ye, <i>Charles</i>, by Heaven, if you kill my <i>Daring</i> I’ll +pistol you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +No, Widow, I’ll spare him for your sake. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag36" id="widow_texttag36" href="#widow_textnote36">They join with <em>Surelove</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Oh, she’s all divine, and all the Breath she utters serves but to blow +my Flame.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Maid</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Maid.</span> +Madam, Dinner’s on the Table—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Please you, Sir, to walk in—come, Mr. <i>Friendly</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +She takes <em>Hazard</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Prithee, good Wench, bring in the Punch-Bowl.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="widow_actII" id="widow_actII"> +ACT II.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actII_sceneI" id="widow_actII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +A Pavilion.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Discovers the <em>Indian King</em> and <em>Queen</em> sitting in State, +with Guards of <em>Indians</em>, Men and Women attending: To them +<em>Bacon</em> richly dress’d, attended by <em>Daring</em>, +<em>Fearless</em> and other Officers; he bows to the <em>King</em> and +<em>Queen</em>, who rise to receive him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +I am sorry, Sir, we meet upon these Terms, we who so often have embrac’d +as Friends.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">245</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +How charming is the Queen! +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +War, Sir, is not my Business nor my Pleasure: Nor was I bred in Arms, my +Country’s Good has forc’d me to assume a Soldier’s Life; and ’tis with +much regret that I employ the first Effects of it against my Friends: +yet whilst I may—whilst this Cessation lasts, I beg we may +exchange those Friendships, Sir, we have so often paid in happier +Peace.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +For your part, Sir, you’ve been so noble, that I repent the fatal +Difference that makes us meet in Arms. Yet though I’m young, I’m +sensible of Injuries; and oft have heard my Grandsire say, That we were +Monarchs once of all this spacious World, till you, an unknown People, +landing here, distress’d and ruin’d by destructive Storms, abusing all +our charitable Hospitality, usurp’d our Right, and made your Friends +your Slaves.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I will not justify the Ingratitude of my Forefathers, but finding here +my Inheritance, I am resolv’d still to maintain it so, and by my +Sword which first cut out my Portion, defend each Inch of Land, with my +last drop of Blood.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Even his Threats <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag37" id="widow_texttag37" href="#widow_textnote37">have Charms</a> that please +the Heart. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Come, Sir, let this ungrateful Theme alone, which is better disputed in +the Field.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Is it impossible there might be wrought an understanding betwixt my Lord +and you? ’Twas to that end I first desired this Truce, my self proposing +to be <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag38" id="widow_texttag38" +href="#widow_textnote38">Mediator</a>, to which my Lord +<i>Cavernio</i> shall agree, could you but condescend—I know +you are noble: And I have heard you say our tender Sex could never plead +in vain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Alas! I dare not trust your pleading, Madam: a few soft Words from such +a charming Mouth <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag39" id="widow_texttag39" href="#widow_textnote39">would make me lay the +Conqueror</a> at your Feet, as a Sacrifice for all the Ills he has done +you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +How strangely am I pleas’d to hear him talk. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">246</span> +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +<i>Semernia</i>, see, the Dancers do appear;</p> +<p class="continue"> +Sir, will you take your Seat? +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Bacon</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +He leads the <em>Queen</em> to a Seat, they sit and talk.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Curse on his Sports that interrupted me, my very Soul was hovering at my +Lip, ready to have discover’d all its Secrets. But oh! I dread to +tell her of my pain, and when I wou’d an awful trembling seizes me, and +she can only from my dying Eyes read all the Sentiments of my captive +Heart. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sits down, the rest wait.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Indians</em> that dance <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag17" id="widow_commtag17" href="#widow_commnote17">Anticks</a>: after the Dance the <em>King</em> seems +in discourse with <em>Bacon</em>, the <em>Queen</em> rises and comes +forth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +The more I gaze upon this <i>English</i> Stranger, the more Confusion +struggles in my Soul: Oft I have heard of Love, and oft this Gallant Man +(when Peace had made him pay his idle Visits) has told a thousand Tales +of dying Maids; and ever when he spoke, my panting Heart, with a +prophetick Fear in Sighs reply’d, I shall fall a Victim to his +Eyes.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter an <em>Indian</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Indian.</span> +Sir, here’s a Messenger from the <i>English</i> Council desires +admittance to the General. +<span class="stagedir"> +To the <em>King</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +With your Permission he may advance. +<span class="stagedir"> +To the <em>King</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Re-enter <em>Indian</em> with <em>Dunce</em>. A Letter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +All Health and Happiness attend your Honour, this from the honourable +Council. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him a Letter.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +I’ll leave you till you have dispatch’d the Messenger, and then expect +your presence in the Royal Tent.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt <em>King</em>, <em>Queen</em>, and <em>Indians</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Lieutenant, read the Letter. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Daring</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"><em>Daring</em> reads.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +SIR, the necessity of what you have acted makes it pardonable, and we +could wish we had done the Country and our +<span class="pagenum">247</span> +selves so much Justice as to have given you that Commission you +desired.—We now find it reasonable to raise more Forces, to oppose +these Insolences, which possibly yours may be too weak to accomplish, to +which end the Council is ordered to meet this Evening, and desiring you +will come and take your place there, and be pleas’d to accept from us a +Commission to command in Chief in this War.—Therefore send those +Soldiers under your Command to their respective Houses, and haste, Sir, +to your affectionate Friends—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Sir, I fear the Hearts and Pen did not agree when this was writ.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +A plague upon their shallow Politicks! Do they think to play the old +Game twice with us?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Away, you wrong the Council, who of themselves are honourable Gentlemen; +but the base coward Fear of some of them, puts the rest on tricks that +suit not with their Nature.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Sir, ’tis for noble ends you are sent for, and for your safety I’ll +engage my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +By Heaven, and so you shall;—and pay it too with all the rest of +your wise-headed Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Your Zeal is too officious now; I see no Treachery, and can fear no +Danger.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Treachery! now Heavens forbid, are we not Christians, Sir, all Friends +and Countrymen? believe me, Sir, ’tis Honour calls you to increase your +Fame, and he who would dissuade you is your Enemy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Go cant, Sir, to the Rabble—for us, we know you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +You wrong me when you but suspect for me; let him that acts +dishonourably fear. My innocence and my good Sword’s my Guard.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +If you resolve to go, we will attend you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +What, go like an invader! No, <i>Daring</i>, the Invitation’s friendly, +and as a Friend attended only by my menial Servants, I’ll wait upon the +Council, that they +<span class="pagenum">248</span> +may see that when I could command it, I came an humble Suppliant +for their Favour.—You may return, and tell ’em I’ll attend.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +I kiss your Honour’s Hands— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +’Sdeath, will you trust the faithless Council, Sir, who have so long +held you in hand with Promises, that Curse of States-men, that unlucky +Vice that renders even Nobility despis’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Perhaps the Council thought me too aspiring, and would not add Wings to +my ambitious Flight.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +A pox of their considering Caps, and now they find that you can soar +alone, they send for you to <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag18" +id="widow_commtag18" href="#widow_commnote18">knip</a> your +spreading Wings. Now, by my Soul, you shall not go alone.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Forbear, lest I suspect you for a Mutineer; I am resolv’d to +go.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +What, and send your Army home; a pretty fetch.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +By Heaven, we’ll not disband, not till we see how fairly you are dealt +with: If you have a Commission to be General, here we are ready to +receive new Orders: If not, we’ll ring them such a thundring Peal shall +beat the Town about their treacherous Ears.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I do command you not to stir a Man, till you’re inform’d how I am +treated by ’em.—leave me, all. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt Officers.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +While <em>Bacon</em> reads the Letter again, to him the <em>Indian +Queen</em> with Women waiting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Now while my Lord’s asleep in his Pavilion, I’ll try my Power with the +General for an Accommodation of a Peace: The very dreams of War fright +my soft Slumbers that us’d to be employ’d in kinder Business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Ha!—the Queen—what Happiness is this presents it self which +all my Industry could never gain?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Sir— +<span class="stagedir"> +Approaching him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Prest with the great extremes of Joy and Fear, I trembling stand, +unable to approach her.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">249</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +I hope you will not think it Fear in me, though timorous as a Dove by +nature fram’d: Nor that my Lord, whose Youth’s unskill’d in War, can +either doubt his Courage, or his Forces, that makes me seek a +Reconciliation on any honourable Terms of Peace.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Ah Madam! if you knew how absolutely you command my Fate, I fear +but little Honour would be left me, since whatsoe’er you ask me I should +grant.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Indeed I would not ask your Honour, Sir, that renders you too brave in +my esteem. Nor can I think that you would part with that. No, not to +save your Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I would do more to serve your least commands than part with trivial +Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Bless me, Sir, how came I by such a Power?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +The Gods and Nature gave it you in your Creation, form’d with all the +Charms that ever grac’d your Sex.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Is’t possible? am I so beautiful?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +As Heaven, or Angels there.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Supposing this, how can my Beauty make you so obliging?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Beauty has still a Power over great Souls, and from the moment I beheld +your Eyes, my stubborn Heart melted to compliance, and from a nature +rough and turbulent, grew soft and gentle as the God of Love.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +The God of Love! what is the God of Love?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +’Tis a resistless Fire, that’s kindled thus—at every +<span class="stagedir continue">Takes her by the Hand and gazes on +her.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +gaze we take from such fine Eyes, from such bashful Looks, and such soft +Touches—it makes us sigh,—and pant as I do now, and stops +the breath when e’er we speak of Pain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Alas for me if this should be Love! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +It makes us tremble when we touch the fair one; and all the Blood runs +shivering through the Veins, the Heart’s surrounded with a feeble +Languishment, the Eyes are dying, and the Cheeks are pale, the Tongue is +faltring, and the Body fainting.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">250</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Then I’m undone, and all I feel is Love. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p>If Love be catching, Sir, by Looks and Touches, let us at distance +parley—or rather let me fly, for within view is too near— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Ah! she retires—displeas’d I fear with my presumptuous +Love,—Oh, pardon, fairest Creature. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +I’ll talk no more, our Words exchange our Souls, and every Look fades +all my blooming Honour, like Sun-beams on unguarded Roses—Take all +our Kingdoms —make our People Slaves, and let me fall beneath your +conquering Sword: but never let me hear you talk again, or gaze upon +your Eyes.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +She loves! by Heaven, she loves! and has not Art enough to hide her +Flame, though she have cruel Honour to suppress it. However, I’ll pursue +her to the Banquet.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actII_sceneII" id="widow_actII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +The Widow <em>Ranter’s</em> Hall.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Surelove</em> fan’d by two Negroes, followed by +<em>Hazard</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +This Madam <i>Ranter</i> is so prodigious a Treater —oh! +I hate a Room that smells of a great Dinner, and what’s worse, +a desert of Punch and Tobacco—what! are you taking leave so +soon, Cousin?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Yes, Madam, but ’tis not fit I should let you know with what regret I +go,—but Business will be obey’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Some Letters to dispatch to <i>English</i> Ladies you have left +behind—come, Cousin, confess.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I own I much admire the <i>English</i> Beauties but never yet have put +their Fetters on.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Never in love! oh, then you have pleasure to come.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Rather a Pain when there’s no Hope attends it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Oh, such Diseases quickly cure themselves.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I do not wish to find it so; for even in Pain I find a Pleasure too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +You are infected then, and come abroad for Cure.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Rather to receive my Wounds, Madam.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">251</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Already, Sir,—whoe’er she be, she made good haste to conquer, we +have few here boast that Dexterity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +What think you of <i>Chrisante</i>, Madam?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +I must confess your Love and your Despair are there plac’d right, of +which I am not fond of being made a Confident, since I am assur’d she +can love none but <i>Friendly.</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Coldly.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Let her love on as long as Life shall last, let <i>Friendly</i> take +her, and the Universe, so I had my next wish— +<span class="stagedir continue">Sighs.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Madam, it is yourself that I adore—I should not be so vain to tell +you this, but that I know you have found the Secret out already from my +Sighs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Forbear, Sir, and know me for your Kinsman’s Wife, and no more.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Be scornful as you please, rail at my Passion, and refuse to hear it; +yet I’ll love on, and hope in spite of you; my Flame shall be so +constant and submissive, it shall compel your Heart to some return.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +You’re very confident of your Power, I perceive; but if you chance +to find yourself mistaken, say your Opinion and your Affectation were +misapply’d, and not that I was cruel. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Surelove</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Whate’er denials dwell upon your Tongue, your Eyes assure me that your +Heart is tender. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter the Bagpiper, playing before a great Bowl of Punch, carry’d +between two Negroes, a Highlander dancing after it; the Widow +<em>Ranter</em> led by <em>Timorous</em>; <em>Chrisante</em> by +<em>Dullman</em>; Mrs. <em>Flirt</em> and <em>Friendly</em>, all dancing +after it; they place it on the Table.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +This is like the noble Widow all over, i’faith.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, ay, the Widow’s Health in a full Ladle, Major. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Drinks.</span></p> +<span class="pagenum">252</span> +<p class="continue"> +—But a Pox on’t, what made that young Fellow here, that affronted +us yesterday, Major? +<span class="stagedir"> +While they drink about.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Some damned Sharper that would lay his Knife aboard your Widow, +Cornet.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Zoors, if I thought so, I’d arrest him for Salt and Battery, lay him in +Prison for a swinging Fine, and take no Bail.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Nay, had it not been before my Mistress here, Mrs. <i>Chrisante</i>, +I had swinged him for his Yesterday’s Affront;—ah, my sweet +Mistress <i>Chrisante</i>—if you did but know what a power you +have over me—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Oh, you’re a great Courtier, Major.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Would I were any thing for your sake, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Thou art anything, but what thou shouldst be; prithee, Major, leave off +being an old Buffoon, that is, a Lover turn’d ridiculous by Age, +consider thy self a mere rouling Tun of +<i>Nantz</i>,—a walking Chimney, ever smoaking with nasty +<a class="comm" name="widow_commtag19" id="widow_commtag19" href="#widow_commnote19">Mundungus</a>, and then thou hast a Countenance like +an old worm-eaten Cheese.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Well, Widow, you will joke, ha, ha, ha—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gad’ Zoors, she’s pure company, ha, ha—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +No matter for my Countenance,—Col. <i>Downright</i> likes my +Estate, and is resolved to have it a match.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Dear Widow, take off your damned Major, for if he speak another word to +<i>Chrisante</i>, I shall be put past all my patience, and fall +foul upon him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +S’life, not for the world—Major, I bar Love-making within my +Territories, ’tis inconsistent with the Punch-Bowl, if you’l drink, do, +if not, be gone.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Nay, Gad’s Zooks, if you enter me at the Punch-Bowl you enter me in +Politicks—well, ’tis the best Drink in Christendom for a +Statesman. +<span class="stagedir"> +They drink about, the Bagpipe playing.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Come, now you shall see what my High-land Valet can do. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag41" id="widow_texttag41" href="#widow_textnote41">A <em>Scots</em> Dance.</a></span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">253</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +So—I see, let the World go which way it will, Widow, you are +resolv’d for mirth,—but come—to the conversation of the +Times.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +The Times! why, what a Devil ails the Times? I see nothing in the +Times but a Company of Coxcombs that fear without a Cause.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +But if these Fears were laid, and <i>Bacon</i> were hanged, I look +upon <i>Virginia</i> to be the happiest part of the World, gads +zoors,—why, there’s <i>England</i>—’tis nothing +to’t,—I was in <i>England</i> about six Years ago, and was +shewed the Court of Aldermen, some were nodding, some saying nothing, +and others very little to purpose; but how could it be otherwise, for +they had neither Bowl of Punch, Bottles of Wine or Tobacco before ’em, +to put Life and Soul into ’em as we have here: then for the young +Gentlemen—their farthest Travels is to <i>France</i> or +<i>Italy</i>, they never come hither.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +The more’s the pity, by my troth. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Where they learn to swear Mor-blew, Mor-dee—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +And tell you how much bigger the <i>Louvre</i> is than <i>Whitehall</i>; +buy a suit a-la-mode, get a swinging Clap of some <i>French</i> +Marquise, spend all their Money, and return just as they went.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +For the old Fellows, their business is Usury, Extortion, and undermining +young Heirs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Then for young Merchants, their Exchange is the Tavern, their Ware-house +the Play-house, and their Bills of Exchange <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag42" id="widow_texttag42" href="#widow_textnote42">Billet-Douxs</a>, where to sup with their Wenches at +the other end of the Town,—now judge you what a condition poor +<i>England</i> is in: for my part I look upon it as a lost Nation, gads +zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +I have considered it, and have found a way to save all yet.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +As how, I pray?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +As thus: we have Men here of great Experience and Ability—now I +would have as many sent into <i>England</i>, +<span class="pagenum">254</span> +as would supply all Places and Offices, both Civil and Military, d’ye +see; their young Gentry should all travel hither for breeding, and to +learn the mysteries of State.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +As for the old covetous Fellows, I would have the Tradesmen get in +their Debts, break and turn Troopers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +And they’d be soon weary of Extortion, gad zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Then for the young Merchants, there should be a Law made, none should go +beyond <i>Ludgate</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +You have found out the only way to preserve that great Kingdom. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag43" id="widow_texttag43" href="#widow_textnote43">Drinking all this while sometimes.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Well, gad zoors, ’tis a fine thing to be a good Statesman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Ay, Cornet, which you had never been had you staid in Old +<i>England</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Why, Sir, we were somebody in <i>England</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +So I heard, Major.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +You heard, Sir! what have you heard? he’s a Kidnapper that says he heard +any thing of me—and so my service to you.—I’ll sue you, Sir, +for spoiling my Marriage here by your Scandals with Mrs. +<i>Chrisante</i>: but that shan’t do, Sir, I’ll marry her for all that, +and he’s a Rascal that denies it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +S’death, you lye, Sir—I do.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gad zoors, Sir, lye to a Privy-Counsellor, a Major of Horse! +Brother, this is an Affront to our Dignities: draw and I’ll side with +you. +<span class="stagedir"> +They both draw on <em>Friendly</em>, the Ladies run off.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +If I disdain to draw, ’tis not that I fear your base and cowardly Force, +but for the respect I bear you as Magistrates, and so I leave you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +An arrant Coward, gad zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +A mere Paultroon, and I scorn to drink in his Company.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt, putting up their Swords.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">255</span> +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actII_sceneIII" id="widow_actII_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +A <em>Sevana</em>, or large Heath.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Whimsey</em>, <em>Whiff</em>, and <em>Boozer</em>, with some +Soldiers arm’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Stand—stand—and hear the word of Command—do ye see yon +Cops, and that Ditch that runs along Major <i>Dullman’s</i> +Plantation?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +We do.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Place your Men there, and lie flat on your Bellies, and when +<i>Bacon</i> comes, (if alone) seize him, d’ye see.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Observe the Command now (if alone) for we are not for blood-shed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +I’ll warrant you for our parts. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt all but <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Now we have ambusht our Men, let’s light our Pipes, and sit down and +take an encouraging dram of the Bottle. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag44" id="widow_texttag44" href="#widow_textnote44">Pulls a Bottle</a> of Brandy out of his +Pocket—they sit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Thou art a Knave, and hast emptied half the Bottle in thy Leathern +Pockets; but come, here’s young <i>Frightall’s</i> Health.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +What, wilt drink a Man’s Health thou’rt going to hang?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +’Tis all one for that, we’ll drink his Health first, and hang him +afterwards, and thou shalt pledge me, d’ye see, and though ’twere under +the Gallows.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Thou’rt a Traitor for saying so, and I defy thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Nay, since we are come out like loving Brothers to hang the General, +let’s not fall out among our selves; and so here’s to you, +<span class="aside"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag45" id="widow_texttag45" href="#widow_textnote45">Drinks.</a></span> +though I have no great Maw to this Business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Prithee, Brother <i>Whiff</i>, do not be so villainous a Coward, for I +hate a Coward.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Nay, ’tis not that—but, my <i>Whiff</i>, my <i>Nancy</i> dreamt to +night she saw me hanged.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +’Twas a cowardly Dream, think no more on’t; +<span class="pagenum">256</span> +but as Dreams are expounded by contraries, thou shalt hang the +General.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay—but he was my Friend, and I owe him at this time a hundred +Pounds of Tobacco.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Nay, then I am sure thou’dst hang him if he were thy Brother.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +But hark—I think I hear the Neighing of Horses, where shall we +hide our selves? for if we stay here, we shall be mawled damnably. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt both behind a Bush, peeping.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Bacon</em>, <em>Fearless</em>, and 3 or 4 Footmen.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Let the Groom lead the Horses o’er the <i>Sevana</i>; we’ll walk it on +Foot, ’tis not a quarter of a Mile to the Town; and here the Air is +cool.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +The Breezes about this time of the Day begin to take wing, and fan +refreshment to the Trees and Flowers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +And at these Hours how fragrant are the Groves!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +The Country’s well, were but the people so.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +But come, lets on— +<span class="stagedir"> +They pass to the Entrance.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +There, Boys— +<span class="stagedir"> +The Soldiers come forth and fall on <em>Bacon</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Hah! Ambush—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Draws, <em>Fearless</em> and Footmen draw, the Soldiers after a while +fighting, take <em>Bacon</em> and <em>Fearless</em>, they having laid 3 +or 4 dead.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +So, so, he’s taken; now we may venture out.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +But are you sure he’s taken?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Sure! can’t you believe your Eyes, come forth; I hate a +Coward—Oh, Sir, have we caught your Mightiness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Are you the Authors of this valiant Act? None but such villainous +Cowards <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag46" id="widow_texttag46" href="#widow_textnote46">durst</a> have attempted +it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Stop his railing Tongue.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +No, no, let him rail, let him rail now his Hands are ty’d, ha, ha. Why, +good General <i>Frightall</i>, what, was no body able d’ye think to tame +the roaring Lyon?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">257</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +You’ll be hanged for this.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Come, come, away with him to the next Tree.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +What mean you, Villains?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Only to hang your Honour a little, that’s all. We’ll teach you, Sir, to +serve your Country against Law.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +As they go off, enter <em>Daring</em> with Soldiers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Hah—my General betray’d!—this I suspected.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +His Men come in, they fall on, release <em>Bacon</em> and +<em>Fearless</em>, and his Man, and get Swords. <em>Whimsey’s</em> Party +put <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em> before ’em striking ’em as they +endeavour to run on this side or that, and forcing ’em to bear up, they +are taken after some fighting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Did not the General tell you Rogues, you’d be all hang’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Oh, <i>Nancy</i>, <i>Nancy</i>, how prophetick are thy Dreams!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Come, lets on—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +S’death, what mean you, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +As I designed—to present my self to the Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +By Heavens, we’ll follow then to save you from their Treachery, ’twas +this that has befallen you that I feared, which made me at a distance +follow you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Follow me still, but still at such a distance as your Aids may be +assisting on all occasions.—<i>Fearless</i>, go back and bring +your Regiment down; and <i>Daring</i>, let your Sergeant with his Party +guard these Villains to the Council. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Bac.</em> <em>Dar.</em> and <em>Fearless</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +A Pox on your Worship’s Plot.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A Pox of your forwardness to come out of the Hedge.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. Officers, with <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em>.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">258</span> +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actII_sceneIV" id="widow_actII_sceneIV"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene IV.</span></a> +The Council-Table.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Col. <em>Wellman</em>, Col. <em>Downright</em>, <em>Dullman</em>, +<em>Timorous</em>, and about seven or eight more seat themselves.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +You heard Mr. <i>Dunce’s</i> opinion, Gentlemen, concerning +<i>Bacon’s</i> coming upon our Invitation. He believes he will come, but +I rather think, though he be himself undaunted, yet the persuasions of +his two Lieutenant-Generals, <i>Daring</i> and <i>Fearless</i>, may +prevent him—Colonel, have you order’d our Men to be in Arms?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a <em>Soldier</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +I have, and they’l attend further order on the <i>Sevana.</i></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +May it please your Honours, <i>Bacon</i> is on his way, he comes +unattended by any but his Footmen, and Col. <i>Fearless</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Who is this Fellow?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +A Spy I sent to watch <i>Bacon’s</i> Motions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +But there is a Company of Soldiers in Ambush on this side of the +<i>Sevana</i> to seize him as he passes by.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +That’s by no order of the Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Omnes.</span> +No, no, no order.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Nay, ’twere a good design if true.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gad zoors, wou’d I had thought on’t for my Troop.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +I am for no unfair dealing in any extremity.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag47" id="widow_texttag47" href="#widow_textnote47">Enter <em>Brag</em></a> in haste.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +An’t please your Honours, the saddest News—an Ambush being laid +for <i>Bacon</i>, they rush’d out upon him on the <i>Sevana</i>, and +after some fighting took him and <i>Fearless</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Is this your sad News—zoors, wou’d I had had a hand in’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +When on a sudden, <i>Daring</i> and his Party fell +<span class="pagenum">259</span> +in upon us, turn’d the tide—kill’d our Men, and took Captain +<i>Whimsey</i>, and Captain <i>Whiff</i> Pris’ners; the rest run away, +but <i>Bacon</i> fought like fury.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +A bloody Fellow!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag48" id="widow_texttag48" href="#widow_textnote48"><i>Whimsey</i></a> and <i>Whiff</i>? they deserve +Death for acting without order.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +I’m of the Colonel’s Opinion, they deserve to hang for’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Why, Brother, I thought you had <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag49" id="widow_texttag49" href="#widow_textnote49">wish’d that the Plot</a> had been yours but now.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, but the Case is alter’d since that, good Brother.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Now he’s exasperated past all hopes of a Reconciliation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +You must make use of the Statesman’s Refuge, wise Dissimulation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +For all this, Sir, he will not believe but that you mean honourably, and +no Persuasions could hinder him from coming, so he has dismiss’d all his +Soldiers, and is entring the Town on foot.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +What pity ’tis a brave Man should be guilty of an ill Action.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +But the noise of his danger has so won the Hearts of the Mobile, that +they increase his Train as he goes, and follow him in the Town like a +Victor.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Go wait his coming. +<span class="stagedir continue">Exit <em>Brag</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +He grows too popular and must be humbled.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +I was ever of your mind, Colonel.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Ay, right or wrong—but what’s your Counsel now?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +E’en as it used to be, I leave it to wiser Heads.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Brag</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +<i>Bacon</i>, Sir, is entring.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gad zoors, wou’d I were safe in bed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Colonel, keep in your Heat, and treat calmly with him.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">260</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I rather wish you would all follow me, I’d meet him at the head of all +his noisy Rabble, and seize him from the Rout.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +What, Men of Authority dispute with Rake-hells! ’tis below us, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +To stake our Lives and Fortunes against their nothing.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Bacon</em>, after him the Rabble with Staves and Clubs, +bringing in <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em> bound.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +What means this Insolence?—What, Mr. <i>Bacon</i>, do you come in +Arms?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I’d need, Sir, come in Arms, when Men that should be honourable can have +so poor Designs to take my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Thrust out his following Rabble.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">1st Rab.</span> +We’ll not stir till we have the General safe back again.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Let not your Loves be too officious—but retire—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">1st Rab.</span> +At your Command we vanish.— +<span class="stagedir"> +The Rabble retire.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I hope you’ll pardon me, if in my own defence I seized on these two +Murderers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +You did well, Sir, ’twas by no order they acted—stand forth and +hear your Sentence—in time of War we need no formal Tryals to hang +Knaves that act without order.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Oh, Mercy, Mercy, Colonel—’twas Parson <i>Dunce’s</i> Plot.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Issue out a Warrant to seize <i>Dunce</i> immediately—you shall be +carry’d to the Fort to pray.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Oh, good your Honour, I never pray’d in all my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +From thence drawn upon a Sledge to the place of Execution—where +you shall hang till you are dead—and then be cut down +and—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">261</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Oh, hold—hold—we shall never be able to endure half this. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneeling.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I think the Offence needs not so great Punishment; their Crime, Sir, is +but equal to your own, acting without Commission.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +’Tis very well explained, Sir,—had I been murder’d by Commission +then, the Deed had been approved, and now perhaps I am beholding to the +Rabble for my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +A fine Pretence to hide a popular Fault, but for this once we pardon +them and you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Pardon! for what? by Heaven, I scorn your Pardon, I’ve not offended +Honour nor Religion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +You have offended both in taking Arms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Should I stand by and see my Country ruin’d, my King dishonour’d, and +his Subjects murder’d, hear the sad Crys of Widows and of Orphans? you +heard it loud, but gave no pitying <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag50" id="widow_texttag50" href="#widow_textnote50">care</a> to’t, and till the War and Massacre was +brought to my own door, my Flocks and Herds surprized, I bore it +all with Patience. Is it unlawful to defend my self against a Thief that +breaks into my Doors?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +And call you this defending of your self?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I call it doing of my self that right, which upon just demand the +Council did refuse me; if my Ambition, as you’re pleased to call it, +made me demand too much, I left my self to you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Perhaps we thought it did.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Sir, you affront my Birth—I am a Gentleman, and yet my Thoughts +were humble—I would have fought under the meanest of your +Parasites.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +There’s <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag20" id="widow_commtag20" href="#widow_commnote20">a Bob</a> for us, Brother. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Dull.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +But still you put me off with Promises—and when compell’d to stir +in my Defence I call’d none to my aid, and those that came, ’twas their +own Wrongs that urg’d them.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +’Tis fear’d, Sir, under this Pretence, you aim at Government.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">262</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I scorn to answer to so base an Accusation; the height of my Ambition is +to be an honest Subject.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +An honest Rebel, Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +You know you wrong me, and ’tis basely urg’d—but this is +trifling—here are my Commissions. +<span class="stagedir"> +Throws down Papers, <em>Down.</em> reads.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +To be General of the Forces against the <i>Indians</i>, and blank +Commissions for his Friends.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Tear them in pieces—are we to be imposed upon? Do ye come in +hostile manner to compel us?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Be not too rough, Sir, let us argue with him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I am resolv’d I will not.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Then we are all dead Men, Gudzoors! he will not give us time to say our +Prayers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +We every day expect fresh force from <i>England</i>, till then, we of +our selves shall be sufficient to make defence against a sturdy +Traitor.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Traitor! S’death, Traitor—I defy ye, but that my Honour’s yet +above my Anger, I’d make you answer me that Traitor dearly. +<span class="stagedir"> +Rises.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Hah—am I threatned—Guards, secure the Rebel. +<span class="stagedir"> +Guards seize him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Is this your honourable Invitation? Go—triumph in your short-liv’d +Victory, the next turn shall be mine. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt Guards with <em>Bac.</em></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +A Noise of Fighting—Enter <em>Bacon</em>, <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag51" id="widow_texttag51" href="#widow_textnote51"><em>Wellman’s</em> Guards</a> beat back by the +Rabble, <em>Bacon</em> snatches a Sword from one, and keeps back the +Rabble, <em>Tim.</em> gets under the Table.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +What means this Insolence?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rab.</span> +We’ll have our General, and knock that Fellow’s Brains out, and hang up +Colonel <i>Wellman</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Ay, ay, hang up <i>Wellman</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +The Rabble seize <em>Well.</em> and <em>Dull.</em> and the +rest.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Hold, hold, Gentlemen, I was always for the General.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">263</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Rab.</span> +Let’s <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag21" id="widow_commtag21" +href="#widow_commnote21">barbicu</a> this fat Rogue.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Be gone, and know your distance to the Council. +<span class="stagedir"> +The Rabble let ’em go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I’d rather perish by the meanest Hand, than owe my safety poorly thus to +<i>Bacon</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +In Rage.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +If you persist still in that mind I’ll leave you, and conquering make +you happy ’gainst your will. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Bacon</em> and Rabble, hollowing a <em>Bacon</em>, +a <em>Bacon</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Oh villanous Cowards! who will trust his Honour with Sycophants so base? +Let us to Arms—by Heaven, I will not give my Body rest, till +I’ve chastised the boldness of this Rebel.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt <em>Well.</em> <em>Down.</em> and the rest, all but +<em>Dull.</em> <em>Tim.</em> peeps from under the Table.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +What, is the roistering Hector gone, Brother?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Ay, ay, and the Devil go with him. +<span class="stagedir"> +Looking sadly, <em>Tim.</em> comes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Was there ever such a Bull of <i>Bashan</i>! Why, what if he should come +down upon us and kill us all for Traitors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +I rather think the Council will hang us all for +Cowards—ah—oh—a Drum—a Drum—oh. +<span class="stagedir"> +He goes out.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +This is the Misery of being great.</p> +<p>We’re sacrific’d to every turn of State.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag52" id="widow_texttag52" href="#widow_textnote52">Exit.</a></p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="widow_actIII" id="widow_actIII"> +ACT III.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actIII_sceneI" id="widow_actIII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +The Country Court, a great Table, with Papers, +a <em>Clerk</em> writing.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a great many People of all sorts, then <em>Friendly</em>, after +him <em>Dullman</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +How now, Major; what, they say <i>Bacon</i> scar’d you all out of the +Council yesterday; What say the People?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Say? they curse us all, and drink young <i>Frightall’s</i> Health, and +swear they’ll fight through Fire and Brimstone for him.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">264</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +And to morrow will <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag53" id="widow_texttag53" href="#widow_textnote53">hollow</a> him to the +Gallows, if it were his chance to come there.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +’Tis very likely: Why, I am forced to be guarded to the Court now, the +Rabble swore they would <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag22" id="widow_commtag22" href="#widow_commnote22"><i>De-Wit</i></a> me, but I +shall hamper some of ’em. Wou’d the Governour were here to bear the +brunt on’t, for they call us the evil Counsellors.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Hazard</em>, goes to <em>Friendly</em>.</p> + +<p>Here’s the young Rogue that drew upon us too, we have Rods in Piss +for him, i’faith.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Timorous</em> with <em>Bailiffs</em>, whispers to +<em>Dullman</em>, after which to the <em>Bailiffs</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gadzoors, that’s he, do your Office.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bail.</span> +We arrest you, Sir, in the King’s Name, at the suit of the honourable +Justice <i>Timorous</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Justice <i>Timorous</i>! who the Devil’s he?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +I am the man, Sir, d’ye see, for want of a better; you shall repent, +Guds zoors, your putting of tricks upon Persons of my Rank and Quality. +<span class="stagedir"> +After he has spoke, he runs back as afraid of him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Your Rank and Quality!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, Sir, my Rank and Quality; first I am one of the honourable Council, +next, a Justice of Peace in <i>Quorum</i>, Cornet of a Troop of +Horse, d’ye see, and Church-warden.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +From whence proceeds this, Mr. Justice? you said nothing of this at +Madam <i>Ranter’s</i> yesterday; you saw him there, then you were good +Friends.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, however I have carried my Body swimmingly before my Mistress, d’ye +see, I had Rancour in my Heart, Gads zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Why, this Gentleman’s a Stranger, and but lately come ashore.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +At my first landing I was in company with this +<span class="pagenum">265</span> +Fellow and two or three of his cruel Brethren, where I was affronted by +them, some Words pass’d, and I drew—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, ay, Sir, you shall pay for’t,—why—what, Sir, cannot a +civil Magistrate affront a Man, but he must be drawn upon presently?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Well, Sir, the Gentleman shall answer your Suit, and I hope you’ll take +my Bail for him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +’Tis enough—I know you to be a civil Person.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<em>Timorous</em> and <em>Dullman</em> take their Places on a long Bench +placed behind the Table, to them <em>Whimsey</em> and <em>Whiff</em>, +they seat themselves, then <em>Boozer</em> and two or three more; who +seat themselves: Then enter two, bearing a Bowl of Punch and a great +Ladle or two in it; the rest of the Stage being fill’d with People.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Brothers, it hath often been mov’d at the Bench, that a new Punch-Bowl +shou’d be provided, and one of a larger Circumference; when the Bench +sits late about weighty Affairs, oftentimes the Bowl is emptied before +we end.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A good Motion; Clerk, set it down.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Clerk.</span> +Mr. Justice <i>Boozer</i>, the Council has order’d you a Writ of Ease, +and dismiss your Worship from the Bench.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Me from the Bench, for what?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +The Complaint is, Brother <i>Boozer</i>, for drinking too much Punch in +the time of hearing Tryals.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +And that you can neither write nor read, nor say the Lord’s Prayer.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +That your Warrants are like a Brewer’s Tally, a Notch on a Stick; +if a special Warrant, then a couple. Gods zoors, when his Excellency +comes he will have no such Justices.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Why, Brother, though I can’t read my self, I have had <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag23" id="widow_commtag23" href="#widow_commnote23"><i>Dalton’s</i> Country-Justice</a> read over to me +two or three times, and understand the Law. This is your Malice, Brother +<i>Whiff</i>, because my Wife does not come to your +<span class="pagenum">266</span> +Warehouse to buy her Commodities,—but no matter, to show I have no +Malice in my Heart, I drink your Health.—I care not +this, I can turn Lawyer, and plead at the Board. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks, all pledge him, and hum.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Mr. Clerk, come to the Tryals on the Dockett. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Clerk</em> reads.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cler.</span> +The first is between his Worship Justice <i>Whiff</i> and one +<i>Grubb</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Ay, that <i>Grubb’s</i> a common Disturber, Brother, your Cause is a +good Cause if well manag’d, here’s to’t. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I thank you, Brother <i>Dullman</i>—read my Petition. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cler.</span> +The Petition of Captain <i>Thomas Whiff</i>, sheweth, <a class="notes" +name="widow_texttag54" id="widow_texttag54" href="#widow_textnote54">That</a> whereas <i>Gilbert Grubb</i> calls his +Worship’s Wife <i>Ann Whiff</i> Whore, and said he would prove it; your +Petitioner desires the Worshipful Bench to take it into Consideration, +and your Petitioner shall ever pray, <i>&c.</i>— Here’s two +Witnesses have made Affidavit <i>viva voce</i>, an’t like your +Worships.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Call <i>Grubb</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cler.</span> +<i>Gilbert Grubb</i>, come into the Court.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Grub.</span> +Here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Well, what can you say for your self, Mr. <i>Grubb</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Grub.</span> +Why, an’t like your Worship, my Wife invited some Neighbours Wives to +drink <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag24" id="widow_commtag24" +href="#widow_commnote24">a Cagg</a> of Syder; now your Worship’s Wife, +Madam <i>Whiff</i>, being there fuddled, would have thrust me out of +doors, and bid me go to my old Whore Madam <i>Whimsey</i>, meaning your +Worship’s Wife. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Whimsey</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Hah! My Wife called Whore, she’s a Jade, and I’ll arrest her Husband +here—in an Action of Debts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gad zoors, she’s no better than she should be, I’ll warrant her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Look ye, Brother <i>Whimsey</i>, be patient; you know the humour of my +<i>Nancy</i>, when she’s drunk; but +<span class="pagenum">267</span> +when she’s sober, she’s a civil Person, and shall ask your pardon.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Let this be done, and I am satisfied. And so here’s to you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Go on to the Trial.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Grub.</span> +I being very angry, said indeed, I would prove her a greater Whore +than Madam <i>Whimsey</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cler.</span> +An’t like your Worships, he confesses the Words in open Court.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Grub.</span> +Why, an’t like your Worships, she has had two Bastards, I’ll prove +it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Sirrah, Sirrah, that was when she was a Maid, not since I marry’d her; +my marrying her made her honest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Let there be an order of Court to sue him for <i>Scandalum +magnatum</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Mr. Clerk, let my Cause come next.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cler.</span> +The Defendant’s ready, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Hazard</em> comes to the Board.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Brothers of the Bench, take notice, that this Hector here coming into +Mrs. <i>Flirt’s</i> Ordinary, where I was with my Brother <i>Dullman</i> +and Lieutenant <i>Boozer</i>; we gave him good Counsel to fall to work: +Now my Gentleman here was affronted at this, forsooth, and makes no more +to do but calls us Scoundrels, and drew his Sword on us; and had I not +defended my self by running away, he had murdered me, and assassinated +my two Brothers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +What Witness have you, Brother?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Here’s Mrs. <i>Flirt</i> and her Maid <i>Nell</i>,—besides, we may +be Witness for one another, I hope, our Words may be taken.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cler.</span> +Mrs. <i>Flirt</i> and <i>Nell</i> are sworn. +<span class="stagedir"> +They stand forth.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +By the Oaths that you have taken, speak nothing but the truth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +An’t please your Worships, your Honours came to my House, where you +found this young Gentleman: +<span class="pagenum">268</span> +and your Honours invited him to drink with your Honours; Where after +some opprobrious Words given him, Justice <i>Dullman</i>, and Justice +<i>Boozer</i> struck him over the Head; and after that indeed the +Gentleman drew.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Mark that, Brother, he drew.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +If I did, it was <i>se defendendo</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Do you hear that, Brothers, he did it in defiance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Sir, you ought not to sit Judge and Accuser too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +The Gentleman’s i’th’ right, Brother, you cannot do’t according to +Law.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gads zoors, what new tricks, new querks?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Gentlemen, take notice, he swears in Court.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gads zoors, what’s that to you, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +This is the second time of his swearing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +What, do you think we are deaf, Sir? Come, come, proceed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +I desire he may be bound to his Good Behaviour, fin’d, and deliver up +his Sword, what say you, Brother? +<span class="stagedir"> +Jogs <em>Dull.</em> who nods.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +He’s asleep, drink to him and waken him,— you have miss’d the +Cause by sleeping, Brother. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Justice may nod, but never sleeps, Brother— you were +at—Deliver his Sword—a good Motion, let it be done. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +No, Gentlemen, I wear a Sword to right my self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +That’s fine, i’faith, Gads zoors, I’ve worn a Sword this dozen Year, and +never cou’d right my self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay, ’twou’d be a fine World if Men should wear Swords to right +themselves; he that’s bound to the Peace shall wear no Sword.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +I say, he that’s bound to the Peace ought to wear no Peruke, they may +change ’em for black or white, and then who can know them.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I hope, Gentlemen, I may be allowed to speak for my self.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">269</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay, what can you say for your self, did you not draw your Sword, +Sirrah?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I did.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +’Tis sufficient, he confesses the Fact, and we’ll hear no more.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +You will not hear the Provocation given.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +’Tis enough, Sir, you drew—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Ay, ay, ’tis enough, he drew—let him be fin’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +The Gentleman should be heard, he’s Kinsman too to Colonel <i>John +Surelove</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Hum—Colonel <i>Surelove’s</i> Kinsman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Is he so? nay, then all the reason in the World he should be heard, +Brothers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Come, come, Cornet, you shall be Friends with the Gentleman; this was +some drunken bout, I’ll warrant you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ha, ha, ha, so it was, Gads zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Come, drink to the Gentleman, and put it up.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Sir, my service to you, I am heartily sorry for what’s pass’d, but it +was in my drink. +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +You hear his Acknowledgments, Sir, and when he’s sober he never +quarrels. Come, Sir, sit down, my Service to you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I beg your excuse, Gentlemen—I have earnest business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Let us adjourn the Court, and prepare to meet the Regiments on the +<i>Sevana</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +All go but <em>Friend.</em> and <em>Hazard</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Is this the best Court of Judicature your Country affords?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +To give it its due, it is not. But how does thy Amour thrive?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +As well as I can wish in so short a time.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +I see she regards thee with kind Eyes, Sighs and Blushes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Yes, and tells me I am so like a Brother she had +<span class="pagenum">270</span> +—to excuse her kind concern,—then blushes so prettily, that, +Gad, I cou’d not forbear making a discovery of my Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Have a care of that, come upon her by slow degrees, for I know she is +virtuous;—but come, let’s to the <i>Sevana</i>, where I’ll present +you to the two Colonels, <i>Wellman</i> and <i>Downright</i>, the Men +that manage all till the arrival of the Governour.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag55" id="widow_texttag55" href="#widow_textnote55">Exeunt.</a></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actIII_sceneII" id="widow_actIII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +The <em>Sevana</em> or Heath.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wellman</em>, <em>Downright</em>, <em>Boozer</em>, and +Officers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Have you dispatch’d the Scouts, to watch the Motions of the Enemies? +I know that <i>Bacon</i> is violent and haughty, and will resent +our vain Attempts upon him; therefore we must be speedy in +prevention.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +What Forces have you raised since our last order?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Here’s a List of ’em, they came but slowly in, till we promised every +one a Bottle of Brandy.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Officer</em> and <em>Dunce</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Offi.</span> +We have brought Mr. <i>Dunce</i> here, as your Honour commanded us; +after strict search we found him this Morning in bed with Madam +<i>Flirt</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +No matter, he’ll exclaim no less against the Vices of the Flesh the next +Sunday.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +I hope, Sir, you will not credit the Malice of my Enemies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +No more, you are free, and what you counsell’d about the Ambush, was +both prudent and seasonable, and perhaps I now wish it had taken +effect.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Friendly</em> and <em>Hazard</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +I have brought an <i>English</i> Gentleman to kiss your Hands, Sir, and +offer you his Service, he is young and brave, and Kinsman to Colonel +<i>Surelove</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Sir, you are welcome; and to let you see you +<span class="pagenum">271</span> +are so, we will give you your Kinsman’s Command, Captain of a Troop of +Horse-Guards, and which I’m sure will be continued to you when the +Governour arrives.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I shall endeavour to deserve the Honour, Sir.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Dull.</em> <em>Tim.</em> <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em>, +all in Buff, Scarf, and Feather.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +So, Gentlemen, I see you’re in a readiness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Readiness! What means he, I hope we are not to be drawn out to go +against the Enemy, Major.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +If we are, they shall look a new Major for me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +We were debating, Gentlemen, what course were best to pursue against +this powerful Rebel.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Why, Sir, we have Forces enough, let’s charge him instantly, Delays are +dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Why, what a damn’d fiery Fellow is this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +But if we drive him to extremities, we fear his siding with the +<i>Indians</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Colonel <i>Downright</i> has hit it; why should we endanger our Men +against a desperate Termagant; If he love Wounds and Scars so well, let +him exercise on our Enemies—but if he will needs fall upon us, +’tis then time enough for us to venture our Lives and Fortunes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +How, we go to <i>Bacon</i>! under favour, I think ’tis his duty to +come to us, an you go to that, Gads zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +If he do, ’twill cost you dear, I doubt, Cornet.—I find +by our List, Sir, we are four thousand Men.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gads zoors, not enough for a Breakfast for that insatiate <i>Bacon</i>, +and his two Lieutenant Generals, <i>Fearless</i> and <i>Daring</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Whiff</em> sits on the Ground with a Bottle of Brandy.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A Morsel, a Morsel.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I am for an attack, what say you, Gentlemen, to an attack?—What, +silent all? What say you, Major?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +I say, Sir, I hope my Courage was never in dispute. But, Sir, I am +going to marry Colonel <i>Downright’s</i> +<span class="pagenum">272</span> +Daughter here—and should I be slain in this Battle ’twould break +her Heart;—besides, Sir, I should lose her Fortune. +<span class="stagedir"> +Speaks big.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I’m sure here’s a Captain will never flinch. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Whim.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Who, I, an’t like your Honour?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Ay, you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Who, I? ha, ha, ha: Why, did your Honour think that I would fight?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Fight! yes; why else do you take Commissions?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Commissions! Oh Lord, O Lord, take Commissions to fight! ha, ha, ha; +that’s a jest, if all that take Commissions should fight—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Why do you bear Arms then?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Why, for the Pay; to be called Captain, noble Captain, to show, to cock +and look big, and bluff as I do: to be bow’d to thus as we pass, to +domineer and beat our Soldiers: Fight, quoth a, ha, ha, ha.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +But what makes you look so simply, Cornet?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Why, a thing that I have quite forgot, all my Accounts for +<i>England</i> are to be made up, and I’m undone if they be +neglected—else I wou’d not flinch for the stoutest he that wears a +Sword— +<span class="stagedir"> +Looking big.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +What say you, Captain <i>Whiff</i>? +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Whiff</em> almost drunk.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I am trying, Colonel, what Mettle I’m made on; I think I am +valiant, I suppose I have Courage, but I confess <a class="notes" +name="widow_texttag56" id="widow_texttag56" href="#widow_textnote56">’tis a little of the D—— breed</a>, but +a little inspiration from the Bottle, and the leave of my <i>Nancy</i>, +may do wonders.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a <em>Seaman</em> in haste.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sea.</span> +An’t please your Honours, <i>Frightall’s</i> Officers have seiz’d all +the Ships in the River, and rid now round the Shore, and had by this +time secur’d the sandy Beach, and landed Men to fire the Town, but that +they are high +<span class="pagenum">273</span> +in drink aboard the Ship call’d the Good-Subject; the Master of her sent +me to let your Honours know, that a few Men sent to his assistance will +surprize them and retake the Ships.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Now, Gentlemen, here is a brave occasion for Emulation—why writ +not the Master?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Ay, had he writ, I had soon been amongst them, i’faith; but this is some +Plot to betray us.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sea.</span> +Keep me here, and kill me if it be not true.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +He says well—there’s a Brigantine and a Shallop ready, I’ll embark +immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +No, Sir, your Presence is here more necessary, let me have the Honour of +this Expedition.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I’ll go your Volunteer, <i>Charles</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Who else offers to go?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A mere Trick to kidnap us, by <i>Bacon</i>,—if the Captain had +writ.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, ay, if he had writ—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I see you’re all base Cowards, and here cashier ye from all Commands and +Offices.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Look ye, Colonel, you may do what you please, but you lose one of the +best dress’d Officers in your whole Camp, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +And in me, such a Head-piece.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I’ll say nothing, but let the State want me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +For my part I am weary of weighty Affairs.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +In this while <em>Well.</em> <em>Down.</em> <em>Friend.</em> and +<em>Haz.</em> talk.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Command what Men you please, but Expedition makes you half a +Conqueror.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Friend.</em> and <em>Haz.</em></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter another <em>Seaman</em> with a Letter, gives it to +<em>Downright</em>, he and <em>Wellman</em> read it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Look ye now, Gentlemen, the Master has writ.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Has he—he might have writ sooner, while I was in Command,—if +he had—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Ay, Major—if he had—but let them miss us.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">274</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Colonel, <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag57" id="widow_texttag57" href="#widow_textnote57">haste with</a> your Men, +and reinforce the Beach, while I follow with the Horse;—Mr. +<i>Dunce</i>, pray let that Proclamation be read concerning +<i>Bacon</i>, to the Soldiers. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Down.</em> and <em>Well.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +It shall be done, Sir. Gentlemen, how simply you look now.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +The Scene opens and discovers a Body of Soldiers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Why, Mr. Parson, I have a scruple of Conscience upon me, I am +considering whether it be lawful to kill, though it be in War; +I have a great aversion to’t, and hope it proceeds from +Religion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I remember the Fit took you just so when the <i>Dutch</i> besieged us, +for you cou’d not then be persuaded to strike a stroke.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, that was because they were Protestants as we are; but, Gads zoors, +had they been <i>Dutch</i> Papists I had maul’d them: but +Conscience—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +I have been a Justice of Peace this six Years, and never had a +Conscience in my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Nor I neither, but in this damn’d thing of fighting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Gentlemen, I am commanded to read the Declaration of the honourable +Council to you. +<span class="stagedir"> +To the Soldiers.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Hum, hum, hum—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Silence—silence— +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Dunce</em> reads.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +By an order of Council, dated <i>May</i> the 10th, 1670. To all +Gentlemen Soldiers, Merchants, Planters, and whom else it may concern. +Whereas <i>Bacon</i>, contrary to Law and Equity, has, to satisfy his +own Ambition, taken up Arms with a pretence to fight the <i>Indians</i>, +but indeed to molest and enslave the whole Colony, and to take away +their Liberties and Properties; this is to declare, that whoever shall +bring this Traitor dead or alive to the Council, shall have three +hundred pounds Reward. And so God save the King.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +A Council, a Council! Hah— +<span class="stagedir"> +Hollow.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">275</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a <em>Soldier</em> hastily.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +Stand to your Arms, Gentlemen, stand to your Arms, <i>Bacon</i> is +marching this way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Hah—what Numbers has he?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +About a hundred Horse, in his march he has surpriz’d Colonel +<i>Downright</i>, and taken him Prisoner.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Let’s fall on <i>Bacon</i>—let’s fall on <i>Bacon</i>, hay. +<span class="stagedir"> +Hollow.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +We’ll hear him speak first—and see what he can say for +himself.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Ay, ay, we’ll hear <i>Bacon</i> speak. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Dunce</em> pleads with them.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Well, Major, I have found a Stratagem shall make us Four the greatest +Men in the Colony, we’ll surrender our selves to <i>Bacon</i>, and say +we disbanded on purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Good—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Why, I had no other design in the World in refusing to fight.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Nor I, d’ye think I wou’d have excus’d it with the fear of disordering +my Cravat-String else.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +Why, Gentlemen, he designs to fire <i>James</i> Town, murder you all, +and then lie with your Wives; and will you slip this opportunity of +seizing him?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Here’s a termagant Rogue, Neighbours—we’ll hang the Dog.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Ay, ay, hang <i>Bacon</i>, hang <i>Bacon</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Bacon</em> and <em>Fearless</em>, some Soldiers leading in +<em>Downright</em> bound; <em>Bacon</em> <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag58" id="widow_texttag58" href="#widow_textnote58">stands and stares a while</a> on the Regiments, who +are silent all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Well, Gentlemen, in order to your fine Declaration, you see I come to +render my self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +How came he to know of our Declaration?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Rogues, Rogues among our selves, that inform.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +What, are ye silent all,—not a Man to lift his Hand in Obedience +to the Council, to murder this Traytor +<span class="pagenum">276</span> +that has exposed his Life so often for you? Hah, what, not for three +hundred Pound?—You see I’ve left my Troops behind, and come all +wearied with the Toils of War, worn out by Summers heats, and Winters +cold, march’d tedious Days and Nights through Bogs and Fens as dangerous +as your Clamours, and as faithless,—what though ’twas to preserve +you all in Safety, no matter, you shou’d obey the grateful Council, and +kill this honest Man that has defended you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Hum, hum, hum.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +The General speaks like a Gorgon.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Like a Cherubin, Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +All silent yet—where’s that mighty Courage, that cried so loud but +now, A Council, a Council? where is your Resolution? cannot +three hundred Pound excite your Valour to seize that Traitor +<i>Bacon</i> who has bled for you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +A <i>Bacon</i>, a <i>Bacon</i>, a <i>Bacon</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Hollow.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Oh villainous Cowards!—Oh the faithless Multitude!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +What say you, Parson?—you have a forward Zeal.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +I wish my Coat, Sir, did not hinder me from acting as becomes my Zeal +and Duty.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A plaguy rugged Dog,—that Parson—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +<i>Fearless</i>, seize me that canting Knave from out the Herd, and next +those honourable Officers.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Points to <ins class="correction" title=", for ."><em>Dull.</em></ins> <ins class="correction" title=", for ."><em>Whim.</em></ins> <em>Whiff</em>, and <em>Tim.</em> +<em>Fearless</em> seizes them, and gives them to the Soldiers, and takes +the Proclamation from <em>Dunce</em>, and shews <em>Bacon</em>; they +read it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Seize us, Sir, you shall not need, we laid down our Commissions on +purpose to come over to your Honour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +We ever lov’d and honour’d your Honour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +So intirely, Sir—that I wish I were safe in <i>James</i> Town for +your sake, and your Honour were hang’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +This fine Piece is of your penning, Parson,—though it be +countenanc’d by the Council’s Names.—Oh +<span class="pagenum">277</span> +Ingratitude! Burn, burn the treacherous Town, fire it +immediately.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +We’ll obey you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay, ay, we’ll make a Bonfire on’t, and drink your Honour’s health round +about it. +<span class="stagedir"> +They offer to go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Yet hold, my Revenge shall be more merciful, I ordered that all the +Women of Rank shall be seiz’d and brought to my Camp. I’ll make their +Husbands pay their Ransoms dearly; they’d rather have their Hearts bleed +than their Purses.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Dear General, let me have the seizing of Colonel <i>Downright’s</i> +Daughter; I would fain be plundering for a Trifle call’d a +Maiden-head.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +On pain of Death treat them with all respect; assure them of the safety +of their Honour. Now, all that will follow me, shall find a welcome, and +those that will not, may depart in Peace.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +Hay, a General, a General, a General. +<span class="stagedir"> +Some Soldiers go off: Some go to the side of <em>Bacon</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em> and Soldiers, with <em>Chrisante</em>, +<em>Surelove</em>, Mrs. <em>Whim.</em> and Mrs. <em>Whiff</em>, and +several other Women.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Successful <i>Daring</i>, welcome, what Prizes have ye?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +The fairest in the World, Sir; I’m not for common Plunder.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Hah, my Daughter and my Kinswoman!—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +’Tis not with Women, Sir, nor honest men like you, that I intend to +combat; not their own Parents <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag59" id="widow_texttag59" href="#widow_textnote59">shall be</a> more indulgent, nor better Safe-guard +to their Honours, Sir: But ’tis to save the expence of Blood I seize on +their most valued Prizes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +But, Sir, I know your wild Lieutenant General has long lov’d my +<i>Chrisante</i>, and perhaps, will take this time to force her to +consent.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +I own I have a Passion for <i>Chrisante</i>, yet by my General’s Life, +or her fair self, what now I act is on the score of War, I scorn to +force the Maid I do adore.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">278</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Believe me, Ladies, you shall have honourable Treatment here.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +We do not doubt it, Sir, either from you or <i>Daring</i>; if he love +me, that will secure my Honour; or if he do not, he’s too brave to +injure me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +I thank you for your just opinion of me, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +But, Sir, ’tis for my Father I must plead; to see his reverend Hands in +servile Chains; and then perhaps, if stubborn to your Will, his Head +must fall a Victim to your Anger.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +No, my good pious Girl, I cannot fear ignoble usage from the General; +and if thy Beauty can preserve thy Fame, I shall not mourn in my +Captivity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +I’ll ne’er deceive your kind opinion of me—Ladies, I hope +you’re all of that Opinion too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +If seizing us, Sir, can advance your Honour, or be of any use +considerable to you, I shall be proud of such a Slavery.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mrs. Whim.</span> +I hope, Sir, we shan’t be ravish’d in your Camp.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Fie, Mrs. <i>Whimsey</i>, do Soldiers use to ravish?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mrs. Whiff.</span> +Ravish! marry, I fear ’em not, I’d have ’em know, I scorn to be +ravish’d by any Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Ay, o’ my Conscience, Mrs. <i>Whiff</i>, you are too good-natur’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Madam, I hope you’ll give me leave to name Love to you, and try by all +submissive ways to win your Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Do your worst, Sir: I give you leave, if you assail me only with your +Tongue.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +That’s generous and brave, and I’ll requite it.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Soldier</em> in haste.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +The Truce being ended, Sir, the <i>Indians</i> grow so insolent as to +attack us even in our Camp, and have killed several of our Men.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">279</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +’Tis time to check their Boldness; <i>Daring</i>, haste, draw up our Men +in order to give ’em Battel, I rather had expected their +submission.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>The Country now may see what they’re to fear,</p> +<p>Since we that are in Arms are not secure.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt, leading the Ladies.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="widow_actIV" id="widow_actIV"> +ACT IV.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actIV_sceneI" id="widow_actIV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +A Temple, with an <em>Indian</em> God placed upon it, Priests and +Priestesses attending: Enter <em>Indian King</em> on one side attended +by <em>Indian</em> Men; the <em>Queen</em> enters on the other with +Women. All bow to the Idol, and divide on each side of the Stage. Then +the Musick playing louder, the <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag60" id="widow_texttag60" href="#widow_textnote60">Priests</a> and Priestesses dance about the Idol +with ridiculous Postures, and crying (as for Incantations) thrice +repeated, <em><a class="comm" name="widow_commtag25" id="widow_commtag25" href="#widow_commnote25">Agah Yerkin</a>, Agah Boah, +Sulen Tawarapah, Sulen Tawarapah</em>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +After this soft Musick plays again: then they sing something fine: after +which the Priests lead the <em>King</em> to the Altar, and the +Priestesses the <em>Queen</em>; they take off little Crowns from their +Heads, and offer them at the Altar.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Invoke the God of our <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag26" id="widow_commtag26" href="#widow_commnote26">Quiocto</a> to declare what +the Event shall be of this our last War against the <i>English</i> +General. +<span class="stagedir"> +Soft Musick ceases.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +The Musick changes to confused Tunes, to which the Priests and +Priestesses dance, antickly singing between, the same Incantation as +before; and then dance again, and so invoke again alternately: Which +Dance ended, a Voice behind the Altar cries, while soft Musick +plays,</p> + +<div class="song plain"> +<p>The <i>English</i> General shall be</p> +<p>A Captive to his Enemy;</p> +<p>And you from all your Toils be freed,</p> +<p>When by your Hand the Foe shall bleed:</p> +<p>And e’er the Sun’s swift course be run,</p> +<p>This mighty Conquest shall be won.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">280</span> +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +I thank the Gods for taking care of us; prepare new Sacrifice against +the Evening, when I return a Conqueror, I will my self perform the +Office of a Priest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Oh, Sir, I fear you’ll fall a Victim first.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +What means <i>Semernia</i>? why are thy Looks so pale?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Alas, the Oracles have double meanings, their Sense is doubtful, and +their Words Enigmas: I fear, Sir, I cou’d make a truer +Interpretation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +How, <i>Semernia</i>! by all thy Love I charge thee, as you respect my +Life, to let me know your Thoughts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Last Night I dream’d a Lyon fell with hunger, spite of your Guards, slew +you, and bore you hence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +This is thy Sex’s fear, and no Interpretation of the Oracle.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +I cou’d convince you farther.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Hast thou a Secret thou canst keep from me? thy Soul a Thought that I +must be a Stranger to? This is not like the Justice of <i>Semernia</i>: +Come unriddle me the Oracle.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +The <i>English</i> General shall be a Captive to his Enemy; he is so, +Sir, already, to my Beauty, he says he languishes for Love of me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Hah! the General my Rival—but go on—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +And you from all your War be freed: Oh, let me not explain that fatal +Line, for fear it mean, you shall be freed by Death.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +What, when by my Hand the Foe shall bleed?—away—it cannot +be—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +No doubt, my Lord, you’ll bravely sell your Life, and deal some Wounds +where you’ll receive so many.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +’Tis Love, <i>Semernia</i>, makes thee dream while waking:</p> + +<p>I’ll trust the Gods, and am resolv’d for Battel.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter an <em>Indian</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ind.</span> +Haste, haste, great Sir, to Arms; <i>Bacon</i> with all his Forces is +prepar’d, and both the Armies ready to engage.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">281</span> +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Haste to my General, bid him charge ’em instantly; I’ll bring up the +Supplies of stout <i>Teroomians</i>, those so well skill’d in the +envenom’d Arrow. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Indian</em>.</span></p> +<p>—<i>Semernia</i>—Words but poorly do express the Griefs +of parting Lovers—’tis with dying Eyes, and a Heart +trembling—thus— +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts her Hand on his Heart.</span></p> +<p>they take a heavy leave;—one parting Kiss, and one Love +pressing sigh, and then farewel:—but not a long farewel; +I shall return victorious to thy Arms—commend me to the Gods, +and still remember me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Alas! What pity ’tis I saw the General, before my Fate had given me to +the King—But now—like those that change their Gods, my +faithless Mind betwixt my two Opinions wavers; while to the Gods my +Monarch I commend; my wandring Thoughts in pity of the General makes +that Zeal cold, declin’d—ineffectual.—If for the General I +implore the Deities, methinks my Prayers should not ascend the Skies, +since Honour tells me ’tis an impious Zeal.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Which way soever my Devotions move,</p> +<p>I am too wretched to be heard above.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Goes in. All exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actIV_sceneII" id="widow_actIV_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Shows a Field of Tents, seen at some distance through the Trees of a +Wood, Drums, Trumpets and the noise of Battel, with hollowing. The +<em>Indians</em> are seen with Battel-Axes to retreat fighting from the +<em>English</em>, and all go off; when they re-enter immediately beating +back the <em>English</em>, the <em>Indian King</em> at the head of his +Men, with Bows and Arrows; <em>Daring</em> being at the head of the +<em>English</em>: They fight off; the Noise continues less loud as more +at distance.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Bacon</em> with his Sword drawn, meets <em>Fearless</em> with +his Sword drawn.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Haste, haste, Sir, to the Entrance of the Wood, <i>Daring’s</i> engaged +past hope of a Retreat, venturing too far, pursuing of the Foe; the King +in Ambush, with his +<span class="pagenum">282</span> +poison’d Archers, fell on, and now we are dangerously distrest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +<i>Daring</i> is brave, but he’s withal too rash, come on and follow me +to his Assistance— +<span class="stagedir"> +Go out.</span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +A hollowing within, the Fight renews; enter the <em>Indians</em> beaten +back by <em>Bacon</em>, <em>Daring</em> and <em>Fearless</em>; they +fight off; the noise of Fighting continues a while, this still behind +the Wood.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Indians</em> flying over the Stage, pursued by the +<em>King</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Turn, turn, ye fugitive Slaves, and face the Enemy; Oh Villains, +Cowards, deaf to all Command: by Heaven, I had my Rival in my view, +and aim’d at nothing but my conquering him—now like a Coward I +must fly with Cowards, or like a desperate Madman fall, thus singly, +midst the numbers. +<span class="stagedir"> +Follows the <em>Indians</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Bacon</em> inraged with his Sword drawn, <em>Fearless</em> and +<em>Daring</em> following him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +—Where is the King, oh ye perfidious Slaves? how, have you hid him +from my just Revenge?—search all the Brakes, the Furzes and the +Trees, and let him not escape on pain of Death.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +We cannot do wonders, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +But you can run away.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Yes, when we see occasion—yet—shou’d any but my General tell +me so—by Heaven, he should find I were no starter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Forgive me, I’m mad—the King’s escaped, hid like a trembling Slave +in some close Ditch, where he will sooner starve than fight it out.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Re-enter <em>Indians</em> running over the Stage, pursued by the +<em>King</em>, who shoots them as they fly; some few follow him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +All’s lost—the Day is lost—and I’m betray’d;—Oh +Slaves, that even Wounds can’t animate. +<span class="stagedir"> +In Rage.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +The King!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">283</span> +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +The General here! by all the Powers, betray’d by my own Men!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Abandon’d as thou art, I scorn to take thee basely; you shall have +Soldiers chance, Sir, for your Life, since Chance so luckily has brought +us hither; without more Aids we will dispute the Day: This Spot of Earth +bears both our Armies Fates; I’ll give you back the Victory I have won, +and thus begin a-new on equal Terms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +That’s nobly said!—the Powers have heard my Wish. You, Sir, first +taught me how to use a Sword, which heretofore has served me with +Success: But now—’tis for <i>Semernia</i> that it draws, +a Prize more valued than my Kingdom, Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Hah, <i>Semernia</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Your Blushes do betray your Passion for her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +’Sdeath, have we fought for this, to expose the Victor to the conquer’d +Foe?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +What, fight a single Man—our Prize already.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Not so, young Man, while I command a Dart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Fight him! by Heaven, no reason shall dissuade me, and he that +interrupts me is a Coward; whatever be my Fate, I do command ye to +let the King pass freely to his Tents.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +The Devil’s in the General.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +’Sdeath, his Romantick Humour will undo us. +<span class="stagedir"> +They fight and pause.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +You fight as if you meant to outdo me this way, as you have done in +Generosity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +You’re not behind-hand with me, Sir, in courtesy: Come, here’s to set us +even— +<span class="stagedir"> +Fight again.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +You bleed apace.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +You’ve only breath’d a Vein, and given me new Health and Vigour by +it.</p> + +<p class="stagedir continue">They fight again, Wounds on both sides, +the <em>King</em> staggers; <em>Bacon</em> takes him in his Arms; the +<em>King</em> drops his Sword.</p> + +<p class="continue"> +How do you, Sir?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">284</span> +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Like one—that’s hovering between Heaven and Earth; +I’m—mounting—somewhere—upwards—but giddy with my +flight,—I know not where.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Command my Surgeons,—instantly—make haste;</p> +<p>Honour returns, and Love all bleeding’s fled. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Fearless</em>.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">King.</span> +Oh, <i>Semernia</i>, how much more Truth had thy Divinity than the +Predictions of the flattering Oracles! Commend me to +her—I know you’ll—visit—your fair Captive, Sir, +and tell her—oh—but Death prevents the rest. +<span class="stagedir"> +Dies.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Fearless</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +He’s gone—and now, like <i>Cæsar</i>, I could weep over the +Hero I my self destroyed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +I’m glad for your repose I see him there—’twas a mad hot-brain’d +Youth, and so he died.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Come bear him on your Shoulders to my Tent, from whence with all the +solemn State we can, we will convey him to his own Pavilion.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a <em>Soldier</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +Some of our Troops pursuing of the Enemy even to their Temples, which +they made their Sanctuary, finding the Queen at her Devotion there with +all her <i>Indian</i> Ladies, I’d much ado to stop their violent Rage +from setting fire to the holy Pile.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Hang ’em immediately that durst attempt it, while I my self will fly to +rescue her. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out, they bear off the <em>King’s</em> Body; Ex. all.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Whimsey</em>, pulling in <em>Whiff</em>, with a Halter about +his Neck.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Nay, I’m resolved to keep thee here till his Honour the General +comes.—What, to call him Traitor, and run away after he had so +generously given us our freedom, and listed us <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag27" id="widow_commtag27" href="#widow_commnote27">Cadees</a> for the next Command that fell in his +Army—I’m resolved to hang thee—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">285</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Wilt thou betray and peach thy Friend? thy Friend <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘taht’">that</ins> kept thee Company +all the while thou wert a Prisoner—drinking at my own +charge—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +No matter for that, I scorn Ingratitude, and therefore will hang +thee—but as for thy drinking with me—I scorn to be +behind-hand with thee in Civility, and therefore here’s to thee. +<span class="stagedir"> +Takes a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket, Drinks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I can’t drink.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A certain sign thou wo’t be hang’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +You us’d to be o’ my side when a Justice, let the Cause be how it wou’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Ay—when I was a Justice I never minded Honesty, but now I’ll be +true to my General, and hang thee to be a great Man.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +If I might but have a fair Trial for my Life—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A fair Trial!—come, I’ll be thy Judge—and if thou canst +clear thy self by Law, I’ll acquit thee: Sirrah, Sirrah, what canst thou +say for thy self for calling his Honour Rebel? +<span class="stagedir"> +Sits on a Drum-head.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +’T was when I was drunk, an’t like your Honour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +That’s no Plea; for if you kill a Man when you are sober, you must be +hanged when you are drunk. Hast thou any thing else to say for thy self +why Sentence may not pass upon thee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I desire the Benefit of the Clergy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +The Clergy! I never knew any body that ever did benefit by ’em; why, +thou canst not read a word.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Transportation then—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +It shall be to <i>England</i> then—but hold—who’s this? +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Dullman</em> creeping from a Bush.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +So the Danger’s over, I may venture out—Pox on’t, I wou’d not +be in this fear again, to be Lord Chief Justice of our Court. Why, how +now, Cornet?—what, in dreadful Equipage? Your Battle-Ax bloody, +with Bow and Arrows.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">286</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Timorous</em> with Battle-Ax, Bow and Arrows, and Feathers on +his Head.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +I’m in the posture of the times, Major—I cou’d not be idle +where so much Action was; I’m going to present my self to the General, +with these Trophies of my Victory here—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Victory—what Victory—did not I see thee creeping out of +yonder Bush, where thou wert hid all the Fight—stumble on a dead +<i>Indian</i>, and take away his Arms?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Why, didst thou see me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +See thee, ay—and what a fright thou wert in, till thou wert sure +he was dead.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Well, well, that’s all one—Gads zoors, if every Man that passes +for valiant in a Battel, were to give an account how he gained his +Reputation, the World wou’d be but thinly stock’d with Heroes; I’ll say +he was a great War-Captain, and that I kill’d him hand to hand, and who +can disprove me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Disprove thee—why, that pale Face of thine, that has so much of +the Coward in’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Shaw, that’s with loss of Blood—Hah, I am overheard I +doubt—who’s yonder— +<span class="aside">Sees <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em>.</span> +how, Brother <i>Whiff</i> in a Hempen Cravat-string?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +He call’d the General Traitor, and was running away, and I’m resolv’d to +peach.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Hum—and one Witness will stand good in Law, in case of +Treason—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gads zoors, in case of Treason, he’ll be hang’d if it be proved against +him, were there ne’er a Witness at all; but he must be tried by a +Council of War, Man—Come, come, let’s disarm him—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +They take away his Arms, and pull a Bottle of Brandy out of his +Pocket.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +What, I hope you will not take away my Brandy, Gentlemen, my last +comfort.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">287</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gads zoors, it’s come in good time—we’ll drink it off, here, +Major— +<span class="stagedir"> +Drinks, <em>Whiff</em> takes him aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Hark ye, Cornet—you are my good Friend, get this matter made up +before it come to the General.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +But this is Treason, Neighbour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +If I hang—I’ll declare upon the Ladder how you kill’d your +War-Captain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Come, Brother <i>Whimsey</i>—we have been all Friends and loving +Magistrates together, let’s drink about, and think no more of this +Business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Ay, ay, if every sober Man in the Nation should be called to account of +the Treason he speaks in’s Drink, the Lord have mercy upon us +all.—Put it up—and let us, like loving Brothers, take an +honest Resolution to run away together; for this same <i>Frightall</i> +minds nothing but Fighting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +I’m content, provided we go all to the Council, and tell them (to make +our Peace) we went in obedience to the Proclamation, to kill +<i>Bacon</i>, but the Traitor was so strongly guarded we could not +effect it: but mum—who’s here?—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +To them, enter <em>Ranter</em> and <em>Jenny</em>, as Man and +Footman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Hah, our four reverend Justices—I hope the Blockheads will +not know me—Gentlemen, can you direct me to Lieutenant General +<i>Daring’s</i> Tents?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Hum, who the Devil’s this?—that’s he you see coming this way. +’Sdeath, yonder’s <i>Daring</i>—let’s slip away before he +advances.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt all but <em>Ran.</em> and <em>Jen.</em></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Jen.</span> +I am scar’d with those dead Bodies we have pass’d over; for God’s sake, +Madam, let me know your design in coming.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Why, now I tell thee—my damn’d mad Fellow <i>Daring</i>, who has +my Heart and Soul, loves <i>Chrisante</i>, has stolen her, and carried +her away to his Tents; she hates him, while I am dying for him.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">288</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Jem.</span> +Dying, Madam! I never saw you melancholy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Pox on’t, no; why should I sigh and whine, and make my self an Ass, and +him conceited? no, instead of snivelling I am resolved—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Jen.</span> +What, Madam?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Gad, to beat the Rascal, and bring off <i>Chrisante</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Jen.</span> +Beat him, Madam! what, a Woman beat a Lieutenant-General?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Hang ’em, they get a name in War from Command, not Courage; but how know +I but I may fight? Gad, I have known a Fellow kick’d from one end +of the Town to t’other, believing himself a Coward; at last forced to +fight, found he could; got a Reputation, and bullied all he met with; +and got a Name, and a great Commission.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Jen.</span> +But if he should kill you, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +I’ll take care to make it as comical a Duel as the best of ’em; as much +in love as I am, I do not intend to die its Martyr.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em> and <em>Fearless</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Have you seen <i>Chrisante</i> since the Fight?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Yes, but she is still the same, as nice and coy as Fortune when she’s +courted by the wretched; yet she denies me so obligingly, she keeps my +Love still in its humble Calm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Can you direct me, Sir, to one <i>Daring’s</i> Tent? +<span class="stagedir"> +Sullenly.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +One <i>Daring!</i>—he has another Epithet to his Name.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +What’s that, Rascal, or Coward?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Hah, which of thy Stars, young Man, has sent thee hither, to find that +certain Fate they have decreed?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +I know not what my Stars have decreed, but I shall be glad if they have +ordain’d me to fight with <i>Daring</i>:—by thy concern thou +shou’dst be he?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">289</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +I am, prithee who art thou?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Thy Rival, though newly arrived from <i>England</i>, and came to marry +fair <i>Chrisante</i>, whom thou hast ravish’d, for whom I hear another +Lady dies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Dies for me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Therefore resign her fairly—or fight me fairly—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Come on, Sir—but hold—before I kill thee, prithee inform me +who this dying Lady is?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Sir, I owe ye no Courtesy, and therefore will do you none by telling +you—come, Sir, for <i>Chrisante</i>—<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag61" id="widow_texttag61" href="#widow_textnote61">draw</a>. +<span class="stagedir"> +They offer to fight, <em>Fearless</em> steps in.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Hold—what mad Frolick’s this?—Sir, you fight for one you +never saw +<span class="aside">to <em>Ranter</em>.</span> +and you for one that loves you not. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Dar.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Perhaps she’ll love him as little.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Gad, put it to the Trial, if you dare—if thou be’st generous, +bring me to her, and whom she does neglect shall give the other +place.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +That’s fair, put up thy Sword—I’ll bring thee to her +instantly.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actIV_sceneIII" id="widow_actIV_sceneIII"> </a> +<span class="smallcaps"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag62" id="widow_texttag62" href="#widow_textnote62">Scene III.</a></span> +A Tent. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Chrisante</em> and <em>Surelove</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +I’m not so much afflicted for my Confinement, as I am that I cannot hear +of <i>Friendly</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +Art not persecuted with <i>Daring</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Not at all; though he tells me daily of his Passion, I rally him, +and give him neither Hope nor Despair,—he’s here.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em>, <em>Fear.</em> <em>Rant.</em> and +<em>Jenny</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Madam, the Complaisance I show in bringing you my Rival, will let you +see how glad I am to oblige you every way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +I hope the Danger I have exposed my self to for +<span class="pagenum">290</span> +the Honour of kissing your Hand, Madam, will render me something +acceptable—here are my Credentials— +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives her a Letter.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<em>Chrisante</em> reads.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Creature, I have taken this Habit to free you from an impertinent +Lover, and to secure the damn’d Rogue <em>Daring</em> to my self: +receive me as sent by Colonel <em>Surelove</em> from <em>England</em> to +marry you—favour me—no more—</p> + +<p class="letter right"> +Yours, <em>Ranter</em>.</p> + +<p>—Hah, <i>Ranter</i>? +<span class="aside">Aside.</span> +—Sir, you have too good a Character from my Cousin Colonel +Surelove, not to receive my Welcome. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives <em>Surelove</em> the Letter.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Stand by, General—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Pushes away <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag63" id="widow_texttag63" href="#widow_textnote63"><em>Daring</em>, looks</a> +big, and takes <em>Chrisante</em> by the Hand, and kisses it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +’Sdeath, Sir, there’s room enough—at first sight so kind! Oh +Youth, Youth and Impudence, what Temptations are you to Villanous +Woman?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +I confess, Sir, we Women do not love these rough fighting Fellows, +they’re always scaring us with one Broil or other.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Much good may it do you with your tame Coxcomb.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Well, Sir, then you yield the Prize?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Ay, Gad, were she an Angel, that can prefer such a callow Fop as thou +before a Man—take her and domineer. +<span class="stagedir continue">They all laugh.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—’Sdeath, am I grown ridiculous?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Why hast thou not found the Jest? by Heaven, ’tis <i>Ranter</i>, ’tis +she that loves you; carry on the humour. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Faith, Sir, if I were you, I wou’d <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag64" id="widow_texttag64" href="#widow_textnote64">devote</a> my self to Madam <i>Ranter</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Ay, she’s <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag65" id="widow_texttag65" href="#widow_textnote65">the fittest</a> Wife for +you, she’ll fit your Humour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +<i>Ranter</i>—Gad, I’d sooner marry a she-Bear, +<span class="pagenum">291</span> +unless for a Penance for some horrid Sin; we should be eternally +challenging one another to the Field, and ten to one she beats me there; +or if I should escape there, she wou’d kill me with drinking.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Here’s a Rogue—does your Country abound with such Ladies?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +The Lord forbid, half a dozen wou’d ruin the Land, debauch all the Men, +and scandalize all the Women.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +No matter, she’s rich.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Ay, that will make her insolent.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Nay, she’s generous too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Yes, when she’s drunk, and then she’ll lavish all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +A pox on him, how he vexes me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Then such a Tongue—she’ll rail and smoke till she choke again; +then six Gallons of Punch hardly recovers her, and never but then is she +good-natur’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +I must lay him on—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +There’s not a Blockhead in the Country that has not—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +What—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Been drunk with her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +I thought you had meant something else, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +In huff.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Nay—as for that—I suppose there is no great difficulty.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +’Sdeath, Sir, you lye—and you are a Son of a Whore. +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws and fences with him, and he runs back round the Stage.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Hold—hold, Virago—dear Widow, hold, and give me thy +hand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Widow!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +’Sdeath, I knew thee by instinct, Widow, though I seemed not to do so, +in Revenge for the Trick you put on me in telling me a Lady dy’d for +me.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">292</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Why, such an one there is, perhaps she may dwindle forty or fifty +years—or so—but will never be her own Woman again, that’s +certain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +This we are all ready to testify, we know her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Upon my Life, ’tis true.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Widow, I have a shreud Suspicion, that you your self may be this dying +Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Why so, Coxcomb?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Because you took such Pains to put your self into my hands.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Gad, if your Heart were but half so true as your Guess, we should +conclude a Peace before <i>Bacon</i> and the Council will—besides, +this thing whines for <i>Friendly</i>, and there’s no hopes. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Chrisante</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Give me thy Hand, Widow, I am thine—and so entirely, I will +never—be drunk out of thy Company:—<i>Dunce</i> is in my +Tent,—prithee let’s in and bind the Bargain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Nay, faith, let’s see the Wars at an end first.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Nay, prithee take me in the humour, while thy Breeches are on—for +I never lik’d thee half so well in Petticoats.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Lead on, General, you give me good incouragement to wear them.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="widow_actV" id="widow_actV"> +ACT V.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actV_sceneI" id="widow_actV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +The <em>Sevana</em> in sight of the Camp; the Moon rises.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Friendly</em>, <em>Hazard</em> and <em>Boozer</em>, and a +Party of Men.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +We are now in sight of the Tents.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Is not this a rash Attempt, Gentlemen, with so small Force to set upon +<i>Bacon’s</i> whole Army?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Oh, they are drunk with Victory and Wine; there will be nought but +revelling to night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Would we could learn in what Quarter the +<span class="pagenum">293</span> +Ladies are lodg’d, for we have no other business but to release +them—But hark—who comes here?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Booz.</span> +Some Scouts, I fear, from the Enemy.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Dull.</em> <em>Tim.</em> <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em>, +creeping as in the dark.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Let’s shelter ourselves behind yonder Trees—lest we be +surpriz’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Wou’d I were well at home-Gad zoors, if e’er you catch me a <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag28" id="widow_commtag28" href="#widow_commnote28">Cadeeing</a> again, I’ll be content to be set in the +fore-front of the Battle for Hawks-Meat.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Thou’rt afraid of every Bush.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, and good reason too: Gad zoors, there may be Rogues +hid—prithee, Major, do thou advance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +No, no, go on—no matter of Ceremony in these cases of running +away. +<span class="stagedir"> +They advance.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +They approach directly to us, we cannot escape them—their numbers +are not great—let us advance. +<span class="stagedir"> +They come up to them.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Oh! I am annihilated.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Some of <i>Frightall’s</i> Scouts, we are lost Men. +<span class="stagedir"> +They push each other foremost.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Who goes there?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Oh, they’ll give us no Quarter; ’twas long of you, Cornet, that we ran +away from our Colours.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Me—’twas the Major’s Ambition here—to make himself a great +Man with the Council again.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Pox o’ this Ambition, it has been the ruin of many a gallant Fellow.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +If I get home again, the height of mine shall be <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag29" id="widow_commtag29" href="#widow_commnote29">to +top Tobacco</a>; would I’d some Brandy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gads zoors, would we had, ’tis the best Armour against +Fear—hum—I hear no body now—prithee advance a +little.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +What, before a Horse-Officer?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Stand, on your Lives—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">294</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Oh, ’tis impossible—I’m dead already.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +What are ye?—speak—or I’ll shoot.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Friends to thee,—who the Devil are we Friends to?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +E’en who please you, Gad zoors.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Hah—Gad zoors—who’s there, <i>Timorous</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Hum—I know no such Scoundrel— +<span class="stagedir"> +Gets behind.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Hah—that’s <i>Friendly’s</i> Voice.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Right—thine’s that of <i>Dullman</i>—who’s with you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Only <i>Timorous</i>, <i>Whimsey</i> and <i>Whiff</i>, all valiantly +running away from the Arch-Rebel that took us Prisoners.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Can you inform us where the Ladies are lodg’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +In the hither Quarter, in <i>Daring’s</i> Tent; you’ll know them by +Lanthorns on every corner—there was never better time to surprize +them—for this day <i>Daring’s</i> married, and there’s nothing but +Dancing and Drinking.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Married! to whom?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +That I ne’er enquir’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +’Tis to <i>Chrisante</i>, Friend—and the Reward of my Attempt is +lost. Oh, I am mad, I’ll fight away my Life, and my Despair shall +yet do greater Wonders, than even my Love could animate me to. Let’s +part our Men, and beset his Tents on both sides. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Friendly</em> goes out with a Party.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Come, Gentlemen, let’s on—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +On, Sir,—we on, Sir?—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Ay, you on, Sir—to redeem the Ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Oh, Sir, I am going home for Money to redeem my <i>Nancy</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +So am I, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +I thank my Stars I am a Batchelor.—Why, what a Plague is a +Wife?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Will you march forward?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +We have atchiev’d Honour enough already, in having made our Campaign +here— +<span class="stagedir"> +Looking big.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">295</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +’Sdeath, but you shall go—put them in the front, and prick them +on—if they offer to turn back, run them thro.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Oh, horrid— +<span class="stagedir"> +The Soldiers prick them on with their Swords.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Oh, <i>Nancy</i>, thy Dream will yet come to pass.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Will you advance, Sir? +<span class="stagedir"> +Pricks <em>Whiff</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Why, so we do, Sir; the Devil’s in these fighting Fellows. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag66" id="widow_texttag66" href="#widow_textnote66">Exeunt.</a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +An Alarm at a distance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Within.</span> +To Arms, to Arms, the Enemy’s upon us.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +A Noise of Fighting, after which enters <em>Friendly</em> with his +Party, retreating and fighting from <em>Daring</em> and some Soldiers, +<em>Ranter</em> fighting like a Fury by his side, he putting her back in +vain; they fight out. Re-enter <em>Daring</em> and <em>Friendly</em> all +bloody. Several Soldiers enter with <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag30" id="widow_commtag30" href="#widow_commnote30">Flambeaux</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Now, Sir—what Injury have I ever done you, that you should use +this Treachery against me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +To take advantage any way in War, was never counted Treachery—and +had I murder’d thee, I had not paid thee half the Debt I owe +thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +You bleed too much to hold too long a Parley— come to my Tent, +I’ll take a charitable care of thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +I scorn thy Courtesy, who against all the Laws of Honour and of Justice, +hast ravish’d innocent Ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Sir, your upbraiding of my Honour shall never make me forfeit it, or +esteem you less—Is there a Lady here you have a Passion for?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Yes, on a nobler score than thou darest own.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +To let you see how you’re mistaken, Sir, whoe’er that Lady be whom you +affect, I will resign, and give you both your Freedoms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Why, for this Courtesy, which shews thee brave, in the next fight I’ll +save thy Life to quit the Obligation.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">296</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +I thank you, Sir;—come to my Tent,—and when we’ve dress’d +your Wounds, and yielded up the Ladies, I’ll give you my Pass-port for +your Safe-Conduct back, and tell your Friends i’th’ Town, we’ll visit +them i’th’ Morning.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +They’ll meet you on your way, Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Come, my young Soldier, now thou’st won my Soul. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag67" id="widow_texttag67" href="#widow_textnote67">Exeunt.</a></span></p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +An Alarm beats: Enter at another Passage <em>Boozer</em> with all the +Ladies; they pass over the Stage, while <em>Hazard</em> and +<em>Downright</em> <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag68" id="widow_texttag68" href="#widow_textnote68">beat</a> back a Party of +Soldiers. <em>Dull.</em> <em>Tim.</em> <em>Whim.</em> and +<em>Whiff</em>, prick’d on by their Party to <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag69" id="widow_texttag69" href="#widow_textnote69">fight, lay</a> about them like Madmen. +<em>Bacon</em>, <em>Fearless</em> and <em>Daring</em> come in, rescue +their Men, and fight out the other Party, some falling dead. +<em>Bacon</em>, <em>Fearless</em> and <em>Daring</em> return tired, with +their Swords drawn. Enter <em>Soldier</em> running.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +Return, Sir, where your Sword will be more useful—a Party of +<i>Indians</i>, taking advantage of the Night, have set fire on your +Tents, and borne away the Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Hah, the Queen! By Heaven, this Victory shall cost them dear; come, let +us fly to rescue her.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag70" id="widow_texttag70" href="#widow_textnote70">All go out.</a></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actV_sceneII" id="widow_actV_sceneII"> </a> +<span class="smallcaps"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag71" id="widow_texttag71" href="#widow_textnote71">Scene II.</a></span> +Changes to <em>Wellman’s</em> Tent. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wellman</em>, <em>Brag</em>, <em>Grubb</em>, and Officers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I cannot sleep, my Impatience is so great to engage this haughty Enemy, +before they have reposed their weary Limbs—Is not yon ruddy Light +the Morning’s dawn?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +’Tis, and please your Honour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Is there no News of <i>Friendly</i> yet, and <i>Hazard</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +Not yet—’tis thought they left the Camp to night, with some design +against the Enemy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +What Men have they?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Brag.</span> +Only <i>Boozer’s</i> Party, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">297</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I know they are brave, and mean to surprize me with some handsome +Action.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Friendly</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +I ask a thousand Pardons, Sir, for quitting the Camp without your +leave.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Your conduct and your Courage cannot err; I see thou’st been in +action by thy Blood.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Sir, I’m ashamed to own these slender Wounds, since without more my luck +was to be taken, while <i>Hazard</i> did alone effect the Business, the +rescuing of the Ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +How got ye Liberty?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +By <i>Daring’s</i> Generosity, who sends ye word he’ll visit you this +Morning.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +We are prepared to meet him.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Down.</em> <em>Hazard</em>, <em>Ladies</em>, <em>Whim.</em> +<em>Whiff</em>, <em>Dullman</em>, <em>Tim.</em> looking big. +<em>Well.</em> embraces <em>Down.</em></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +My worthy Friend, how am I joyed to see you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +We owe our Liberties to these brave Youths, who can do Wonders when they +fight for Ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +With our assistance, Ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +For my part I’ll not take it as I have done; Gad, I find, when I am +damnable angry, I can beat both Friend and Foe.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +When I fight for my <i>Nancy</i> here—adsfish, I’m a Dragon.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mrs. Whiff.</span> +Lord, you need not have been so hasty.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Do not upbraid me with your Eyes, <i>Chrisante</i>; but let these Wounds +assure you I endeavour’d to serve you, though <i>Hazard</i> had the +Honour on’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +But, Ladies, we’ll not expose you in the Camp,—a Party of our +Men shall see you safely conducted to Madam <i>Surelove’s</i>; ’tis but +a little Mile from our Camp.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +Let me have that honour, Sir.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">298</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +No, I conjure you let your Wounds be dress’d; obey me if you love me, +and <i>Hazard</i> shall conduct us home.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +He had the Toil, ’tis fit he have the Recompence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +He the Toil, Sir! what, did we stand for Cyphers?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +The very appearance I made in the front of the Battel, aw’d the +Enemy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Ay, ay, let the Enemy say how I maul’d ’em—but Gads zoors, +I scorn to brag.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Since you’ve regain’d your Honour so gloriously, I restore you to +your Commands you lost by your seeming Cowardice.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Valour is not always in humour, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Come, Gentlemen, since they’ve resolv’d to engage us, let’s set our Men +in order to receive ’em. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt all but the four Justices.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Our Commissions again—you must be bragging, and see what comes +on’t; I was modest ye see, and said nothing of my Prowess.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +What a Devil does the Colonel think we are made of Iron, continually to +be beat on the Anvil?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Look, Gentlemen, here’s two Evils—if we go we are dead Men; if we +stay we are hang’d—and that will disorder my +Cravat-string:—therefore the least Evil is to go—and set a +good Face on the Matter, as I do—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Goes out singing. <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag72" id="widow_texttag72" href="#widow_textnote72">All exeunt.</a></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actV_sceneIII" id="widow_actV_sceneIII"> </a> +<span class="smallcaps"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag73" id="widow_texttag73" href="#widow_textnote73">Scene III.</a></span> +A thick Wood. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Queen</em> dress’d like an <em>Indian</em> Man, with a Bow in +her Hand, and Quiver at her Back; <em>Anaria</em> her Confident +disguis’d so too; and about a dozen <em>Indians</em> led by +<em>Cavaro</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +I tremble yet, dost think we’re safe, <i>Cavaro</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cav.</span> +Madam, these Woods are intricate and vast, and ’twill be difficult to +find us out—or if they do, this Habit will secure you from the +fear of being taken.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">299</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Dost think if <i>Bacon</i> find us, he will not know me? Alas, my Fears +and Blushes will betray me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ana.</span> +’Tis certain, Madam, if we stay we perish; for all the Wood’s surrounded +by the Conqueror.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Alas, ’tis better we should perish here, than stay to expect the +Violence of his Passion, to which my Heart’s too sensibly inclin’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ana.</span> +Why do you not obey its Dictates then? why do you fly the Conqueror?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Not fly—not fly the Murderer of my Lord?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ana.</span> +What World, what Resolution can preserve you? and what he cannot gain by +soft <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag74" id="widow_texttag74" +href="#widow_textnote74">submission</a>, Force will at last +o’ercome.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +I wish there were in Nature one excuse, either by Force or Reason to +compel me:—For Oh, <i>Anaria</i>—I adore this +General;—take from my Soul a Truth—till now +conceal’d—at twelve Years old—at the <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag75" id="widow_texttag75" href="#widow_textnote75"><i>Pauwomungian</i></a> Court, I saw this +Conqueror. I saw him young and gay as new-born Spring, glorious and +charming as the Mid-day’s Sun; I watch’d his Looks, and listned +when he spoke, and thought him more than mortal.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ana.</span> +He has a graceful Form.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +At last a fatal Match concluded was between my Lord and me; I gave +my Hand, but oh, how far my Heart was from consenting, the angry Gods +are Witness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ana.</span> +’Twas pity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Twelve tedious Moons I pass’d in silent Languishment; Honour +endeavouring to destroy my Love, but all in vain; for still my Pain +return’d whenever I beheld my Conqueror; but now when I consider him as +Murderer of my Lord— +<span class="aside">Fiercely.</span> +I sigh and wish—some other fatal Hand had given him his +Death.—But now there’s a necessity, I must be brave and +overcome my Heart; What if I do? ah, whither shall I fly? I have no +<i>Amazonian</i> Fire about me, all my Artillery is Sighs +<span class="pagenum">300</span> +and Tears, the Earth my Bed, and Heaven my Canopy. +<span class="stagedir continue">Weeps.</span> +<span class="stagedir continue"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag76" id="widow_texttag76" href="#widow_textnote76">After Noise</a> of Fighting.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Hah, we are surpriz’d; Oh, whither shall I fly? And yet methinks a +certain trembling Joy, spite of my Soul, spite of my boasted Honour, +runs shivering round my Heart.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter an <em>Indian</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ind.</span> +Madam, your Out-guards are surpriz’d by <i>Bacon</i>, who hews down all +before him, and demands the Queen with such a Voice, and Eyes so fierce +and angry, he kills us with his Looks.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cav.</span> +Draw up your poison’d Arrows to the head, and aim them at his Heart, +sure some will hit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Cruel <i>Cavaro</i>,—wou’d ’twere fit for me to contradict thy +Justice. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +<span class="aside">Within.</span> +The Queen, ye Slaves, give me the Queen, and live!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +He enters furiously, beating back some <em>Indians</em>; +<em>Cavaro’s</em> Party going to shoot, the <em>Queen</em> runs in.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Hold, hold, I do command ye.</p> + +<p class="stagedir continue"> +<em>Bacon</em> flies on ’em as they shoot and miss him, fights like a +Fury, and wounds the <em>Queen</em> in the Disorder; beats them all +out.</p> + +<p class="continue"> +—hold thy commanding Hand, and do not kill me, who wou’d not hurt +thee to regain my Kingdom— +<span class="stagedir"> +He snatches her in his Arms, she reels.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Hah—a Woman’s Voice,—what art thou? Oh my Fears!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Thy Hand has been too cruel to a Heart—whose Crime was only tender +Thoughts for thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +The Queen! What is’t my sacrilegious Hand has done!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +The noblest Office of a gallant Friend, thou’st sav’d my Honour, and +hast given me Death.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Is’t possible! ye unregarding Gods, is’t possible?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">301</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Now I may love you without Infamy, and please my dying Heart by gazing +on you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Oh, I am lost—for ever lost—I find my Brain turn with +the wild confusion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +I faint—oh, lay me gently on the Earth. +<span class="stagedir"> +Lays her down.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Who waits— +<span class="stagedir"> +Turns in Rage to his Men.</span></p> +<p>Make of the Trophies of the War a Pile, and set it all on fire, that +I may leap into consuming Flames—while all my Tents are burning +round about me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Wildly.</span></p> +<p>Oh thou dear Prize, for which alone I toil’d! +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps, and lies down by her.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Fearless</em> with his Sword drawn.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Hah, on the Earth—how do you, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +What wou’dst thou?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +<i>Wellman</i> with all the Forces he can gather, attacks us even in our +very Camp; assist us, Sir, or all is lost.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Why, prithee let him make the World his Prize, I have no business +with the Trifle now; it contains nothing that’s worth my care, since my +fair Queen—is dead—and by my hand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +So charming and obliging is thy Moan, that I cou’d wish for Life to +recompense it; but oh, Death falls—all cold upon my Heart, like +Mildews on the Blossoms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +By Heaven, Sir, this Love will ruin all—rise, rise, and save us +yet.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Leave me, what e’er becomes of me—lose not thy share of +Glory—prithee leave me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Queen.</span> +Alas, I fear thy Fate is drawing on, and I shall shortly meet thee in +the Clouds; till then—farewel—even Death is pleasing to me, +while thus—I find it in thy Arms— +<span class="stagedir"> +Dies.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +There ends my Race of Glory and of Life. +<span class="stagedir"> +An Alarm at distance—continues a while.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">302</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Hah—Why should I idly whine away my Life, since there are nobler +ways to meet with Death? Up, up, and face him +then—Hark—there’s the Soldier’s Knell—and all the Joys +of Life—with thee I bid farewel— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out. The <em>Indians</em> bear off the Body of the +<em>Queen</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +The Alarm continues: Enter <em>Downright</em>, <em>Wellman</em>, and +others, Swords drawn.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +They fight like Men possest—I did not think to have found +them so prepar’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +They’ve good Intelligence—but where’s the Rebel?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Sure he’s not in the Fight; Oh, that it were my happy chance to meet +him, that while our Men look on, we might dispatch the business of the +War—Come, let’s fall in again, now we have taken breath. +<span class="stagedir"> +They go out.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em> and <em>Fearless</em> hastily, with their Swords +drawn; meet <em>Whim.</em> <em>Whiff</em>, with their Swords drawn, +running away.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +How now, whither away? +<span class="stagedir"> +In anger.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Hah, <i>Daring</i> here—we are pursuing of the Enemy, Sir; stop us +not in the pursuit of Glory. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Stay!—I have not seen you in my Ranks to day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Lord, does your Honour take us for <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag31" id="widow_commtag31" href="#widow_commnote31">Starters</a>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Yes, Sirrah, and believe you are now <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag32" id="widow_commtag32" href="#widow_commnote32">rubbing off</a>—confess, or I’ll run you +through.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Oh, mercy, Sir, mercy, we’ll confess.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +What will you confess? we were only going behind yon Hedge to untruss a +point; that’s all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay, your Honours will smell out the truth, if you keep us here long.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Here, carry them Prisoners to my Tent. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. Soldiers with <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em>.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">303</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Ranter</em> without a Hat, and Sword drawn, <em>Daring</em> +angrily goes the other way.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +A pox of all ill luck, how came I to lose <i>Daring</i> in the fight? +Ha—who’s here? <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag33" id="widow_commtag33" href="#widow_commnote33"><i>Dullman</i> and +<i>Timorous</i></a> dead—the Rogues are Counterfeits.—I’ll +see what Moveables they have about them, all’s lawful Prize in War. +<span class="stagedir"> +Takes their Money, Watches and Rings; goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +What, rob the dead?—why, what will this villanous World come to? +<span class="stagedir"> +Clashing of Swords, just as they were going to rise.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Hazard</em> bringing in <em>Ranter</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Thou cou’dst expect no other Fate, young Man; thy Hands are yet too +tender for a Sword.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Thou look’st like a good-natur’d Fellow, use me civilly, and +<i>Daring</i> shall ransom me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Doubt not a generous Treatment. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag77" id="widow_texttag77" href="#widow_textnote77">They go out.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +So the Coast is clear, I desire to move my Quarters to some place of +more safety— +<span class="stagedir"> +They rise and go off.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Wellman</em> and Soldiers hastily.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +’Twas this way <i>Bacon</i> fled. Five hundred Pound for him who finds +the Rebel.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Go out.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actV_sceneIV" id="widow_actV_sceneIV"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag78" id="widow_texttag78" href="#widow_textnote78"><span class="smallcaps">Scene IV.</span> Changes +to another part of the Wood.</a> </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Bacon</em> and <em>Fearless</em> with their Swords drawn, all +bloody.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +’Tis just, ye Gods! that when ye took the Prize for which I fought, +Fortune and you should all abandon me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Oh, fly, Sir, to some place of safe retreat, for there’s no mercy to be +hop’d if taken. What will you do? I know we are pursu’d, by Heaven, +I will not die a shameful Death.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Oh, they’ll have pity on thy Youth and Bravery, but I’m above their +Pardon. +<span class="stagedir"> +A noise is heard.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">304</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Within.</span> +This way—this way—hay halloo.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Alas, Sir, we’re undone—I’ll see which way they take. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +So near! Nay, then to my last shift. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Undoes the Pomel of his Sword.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Come, my good Poison, like that of <a class="comm" name="widow_commtag34" id="widow_commtag34" href="#widow_commnote34"><i>Hannibal</i></a>; long I have born a noble Remedy +for all the Ills of Life. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Takes Poison.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +I have too long surviv’d my Queen and Glory, those two bright Stars that +influenc’d my Life are set to all Eternity. +<span class="stagedir"> +Lies down.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Fearless</em>, runs to <em>Bacon</em>, and looks on his +Sword.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +—Hah—what have ye done?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Secur’d my self from being a publick Spectacle upon the common Theatre +of Death.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em> and Soldiers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Victory, Victory! they fly, they fly, where’s the victorious +General?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Here,—taking his last Adieu.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Dying! Then wither all the Laurels on my Brows, for I shall never +triumph more in War; where <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag79" +id="widow_texttag79" href="#widow_textnote79">are</a> the +Wounds?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +From his own Hand, by what he carried here, believing we had lost the +Victory.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +And is the Enemy put to flight, my Hero? +<span class="stagedir"> +Grasps his Neck.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +All routed Horse and Foot; I plac’d an Ambush, and while they were +pursuing you, my Men fell on behind, and won the day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Bac.</span> +Thou almost makest me wish to live again, if I cou’d live now fair +<i>Semernia’s</i> dead.—But oh—the baneful Drug is just and +kind, and hastens me away—Now while you are Victors, make a +Peace—with the <i>English</i> Council, and never let +Ambition,—Love,—or Interest, make you +<span class="pagenum">305</span> +forget, as I have done, your Duty and +Allegiance—Farewel—a long Farewel— +<span class="stagedir"> +Dies embracing their Necks.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +So fell the <i>Roman Cassius</i>, by mistake—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Soldiers with <em>Dunce</em>, <em>Tim.</em> and +<em>Dullman</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +An’t please your Honour, we took these Men running away.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Let ’em loose—the Wars are at an end, see where the General +lies—that great-soul’d Man, no private Body e’er contain’d a +nobler; and he that cou’d have conquered all <i>America</i>, finds only +here his scanty length of Earth. Go, bear the Body to his own +Pavilion— +<span class="stagedir continue">Soldiers <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag80" id="widow_texttag80" href="#widow_textnote80">go +out</a> with the Body.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +though we are Conquerors we submit to treat, and yield upon Condition: +You, Mr. <i>Dunce</i>, shall bear our Articles to the Council.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +With Joy I will obey you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Good General, let us be put in the Agreement.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +You shall be obliged—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Dar.</em> <em>Dun.</em> <em>Dull.</em> and <em>Tim.</em> as +<em>Fear.</em> goes out a Soldier meets him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sold.</span> +What does your Honour intend to do with <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag81" id="widow_texttag81" href="#widow_textnote81"><i>Whimsey</i></a> and <i>Whiff</i>, who are +condemn’d by a Council of War?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em>, <em>Dullman</em>, <em>Tim.</em> +<em>Fearless</em>, and Officers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +You come too late, Gentlemen, to be put into the Articles; nor am I +satisfy’d you’re worthy of it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Why, did not you, Sir, see us lie dead in the Field?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Yes, but I see no Wound about you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +We were stun’d with being knock’d down; Gads zoors, a Man may be +kill’d with the but-end of a Musquet, as soon as with the point of a +Sword.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Dunce</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +The Council, Sir, wishes you Health and Happiness, and sends you these +sign’d by their Hands— +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives Papers.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">306</span> +<p class="center"><i>Dar.</i> reads.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +That you shall have a general Pardon for your self and Friends; that you +shall have all new Commissions, and <em>Daring</em> to command as +General; that you shall have free leave to inter your dead General in +<em>James</em> Town. And to ratify this, we will meet you at Madam +<em>Surelove’s</em> House, which stands between the Armies, attended +only by our Officers.</p> + +<p>The Council’s noble, and I’ll wait upon them.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag82" id="widow_texttag82" href="#widow_textnote82">Exeunt.</a></p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="widow_actV_sceneV" id="widow_actV_sceneV"> </a> +<span class="smallcaps"><a class="notes" name="widow_texttag83" id="widow_texttag83" href="#widow_textnote83">Scene V.</a></span> +A Grove near Madam <em>Surelove’s</em>. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Surelove</em> weeping, <em>Well.</em> <em>Chrisante</em>, Mrs. +<em>Flirt</em>, <em>Ranter</em> as before, <em>Down.</em> <em>Haz.</em> +<em>Friend.</em> <em>Booz.</em> <em>Brag</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +How long, Madam, have you heard the News of Col. <i>Surelove’s</i> +Death?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +By a Vessel last Night arriv’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +You shou’d not grieve when Men so old pay their debt to Nature; you are +too fair not to have been reserved for some young <a class="notes" +name="widow_texttag84" id="widow_texttag84" href="#widow_textnote84">Lover’s</a> Arms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +I dare not speak,—but give me leave to hope.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +The way to oblige me to’t, is never <a class="notes" name="widow_texttag85" id="widow_texttag85" href="#widow_textnote85">more</a> to speak to me of Love till I shall think +it fit— +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Wellman</em> speaks to <em>Down.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Come, you shan’t grant it—’tis a hopeful Youth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +You are too much my Friend to be denied—<i>Chrisante</i>, do you +love <i>Friendly</i>? nay, do not blush—till you have done a +fault, your loving him is none—Here, take her, young Man, and with +her all my Fortune—when I am dead, Sirrah—not a Groat +before—unless to buy ye Baby-Clouts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Friend.</span> +He merits not this Treasure, Sir, can wish for more.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Daring</em>, <em>Fearless</em>, <em>Dunce</em>, Officers, +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag86" id="widow_texttag86" href="#widow_textnote86">and the rest</a>, they meet <em>Well.</em> and +<em>Down.</em> who embrace ’em. <em>Dull.</em> and <em>Tim.</em> +stand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +Can you forgive us, Sir, our Disobedience?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">307</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Your offering Peace while yet you might command it, has made such kind +impressions on us, that now you may command your Propositions; your +Pardons are all seal’d and new Commissions.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +I’m not ambitious of that Honour, Sir, but in obedience will accept your +Goodness; but, Sir, I hear I have a young Friend taken Prisoner by +Captain <i>Hazard</i>, whom I intreat you will render me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Sir—here I resign him to you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him <em>Ran.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ran.</span> +Faith, General, you left me but scurvily in Battle.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dar.</span> +That was to see how well you cou’d shift for your self; now I find you +can bear the brunt of a Campaign, you are a fit Wife for a Soldier.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">All.</span> +A Woman—<i>Ranter</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Haz.</span> +Faith, Madam, I should have given you kinder Quarter, if I had known my +happiness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +I have an humble Petition to you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sure.</span> +In which we all join.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +An’t please you, Sir, Mr. <i>Dunce</i> has long made Love to me, and on +promise of Marriage has— +<span class="stagedir"> +Simpers.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +<a class="notes" name="widow_texttag87" id="widow_texttag87" href="#widow_textnote87">What has he, Mistress?</a> What has he, Mrs. +<i>Flirt</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Flirt.</span> +Only been a little familiar with my Person, Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Do you hear, Parson—you must marry Mrs. <i>Flirt</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dun.</span> +How, Sir, a Man of my Coat, Sir, marry a Brandy-monger?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +Of your Calling you mean, a Farrier and no Parson— +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside to him.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +She’ll leave her Trade, and spark it above all the Ladies at Church: No +more—take her, and make her honest.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Whim.</em> and <em>Whiff</em> stript.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Chris.</span> +Bless me, what have we here?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +Why, an’t like your Honours, we were taken by the Enemy—hah, +<i>Daring</i> here, and <i>Fearless</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +How now, Gentlemen, were not you two condemn’d to be shot for running +from your Colours.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">308</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +From your Colours!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Fear.</span> +Yes, Sir, they were both listed in my Regiment.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Down.</span> +Then we must hang them for deserting us.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +So, out of the Frying Pan—you know where, Brother—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +Ay, he that’s born to be hang’d—you know the rest; a Pox of +these Proverbs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Well.</span> +I know ye well—you’re all rank Cowards; but once more we forgive +ye; your Places in the Council shall be supplied by these Gentlemen of +Sense and Honour. The Governor when he comes, shall find the Country in +better hands than he expects to find it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whim.</span> +A very fair Discharge.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Whiff.</span> +I’m glad ’tis no worse, I’ll home to my <i>Nancy</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dull.</span> +Have we expos’d our Lives and Fortunes for this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Tim.</span> +Gad zoors, I never thriv’d since I was a Statesman, left Planting, and +fell to promising and lying; I’ll to my old Trade again, bask under the +shade of my own Tobacco, and drink my Punch in Peace.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p><em>Well.</em> Come, my brave Youths, let all our Forces meet,</p> +<p>To make this Country happy, rich and great;</p> +<p>Let scanted <em>Europe</em> see that we enjoy</p> +<p>Safer Repose, and larger Worlds, than they.</p> +</div> + + + + +<span class="pagenum">309</span> +<h4><a name="widow_epi" id="widow_epi"> </a><a class="comm" +name="widow_commtag35" id="widow_commtag35" href="#widow_commnote35">EPILOGUE.</a> </h4> + + +<div class="song"> +<p>Gallants, you have so long been absent hence,</p> +<p>That you have almost cool’d your Diligence:</p> +<p>For while we study or revive a Play,</p> +<p>You like good Husbands in the Country stay,</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr><td> +<p>There frugally wear out your Summer-Suit,</p> +<p>And in Frize Jerkin after Beagles toot,</p> +<p>Or in Mountero Caps at Fel-fares shoot:</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +<p>Nay, some are so obdurate in their Sin,</p> +<p>That they swear never to come up again;</p> +<p>But all their charge of Clothes and Treat retrench.</p> +<p>To Gloves and Stockings for some Country-Wench.</p> +<p>Even they who in the Summer had Mishaps,</p> +<p>Send up to Town for Physick, for their Claps.</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr><td> +<p>The Ladies too, are as resolv’d as they,</p> +<p>And having Debts unknown to them, they stay,</p> +<p>And with the gain of Cheese and Poultry pay.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +<p>Even in their Visits, they from Banquets fall,</p> +<p>To entertain with Nuts and Bottle-Ale;</p> +<p>And in Discourse with secrecy report</p> +<p>Stale News that past a Twelve-month since at Court.</p> +<p>Those of them who are most refin’d and gay,</p> +<p>Now learn the Songs of the last Summer’s Play:</p> +<p>While the young Daughter does in private mourn</p> +<p>Her Love’s in Town, and hopes not to return.</p> +<p>These Country-Grievances too great appear;</p> +<p>But, cruel Ladies, we have greater here;</p> +<p>You come not sharp, as you were wont, to Plays;</p> +<p>But only on the first and second Days:</p> +<p>This made our Poet in his Visits look</p> +<p>What new strange Courses for your Time you took;</p> +<span class="pagenum">310</span> +<p>And to his great regret he found too soon,</p> +<p><em>Basset</em> and <em>Ombre</em> spent the Afternoon:</p> +<p>So that we cannot hope to see you here</p> +<p>Before the little Net-work Purse be clear.</p> +<p>Suppose you should have luck:—</p> +<p>Yet sitting up so late as I am told,</p> +<p>You’ll lose in Beauty what you win in Gold;</p> +<p>And what each Lady of another says,</p> +<p>Will make you new Lampoons, and us new Plays.</p> +</div> + +</div> <!-- end div play --> + + +<div class="textnote"> + +<h4><a name="widow_notes" id="widow_notes">Notes on the +Text.</a></h4> + +<span class="pagenum notes">406</span> + +<h5 class="smallcaps">The Widow Ranter.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dedication</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote1" id="widow_textnote1" href="#widow_texttag1">p. 221, l. 1</a> +<i>To the much Honoured.</i> This Dedicatory Epistle is only found in +the 4to 1690.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Prologue</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote2" id="widow_textnote2" href="#widow_texttag2">p. 223, l. 13</a> +<i>Cruse.</i> Misprinted ‘Cause’ in 4to 1690 and in 1724. <i>The True +Widow</i> (4to 1679), and the edition of 1720 (Shadwell’s collected +works) give ‘Cruse.’ All editions of Dryden until Christie misread +‘Cause’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote3" id="widow_textnote3" href="#widow_texttag3">p. 223, l. 16</a> +<i>Poll.</i> 4to 1690 <i>Pole</i>. 1724 <i>Pool</i>. <i>The True +Widow</i> (4to 1679) and edition of 1720 both give ‘Poll’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dramatis Personæ</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote4" id="widow_textnote4" href="#widow_texttag4">p. 225</a> +<i>Dramatis Personæ.</i> I have added to the list ‘<i>Cavaro</i>, an +<i>Indian</i>, Confidant to the <i>Indian King</i>. <i>Jack</i>, +a Sea-Boy. An Officer; Messenger; Seaman; 2nd Seaman; +A Highlander. <i>Jenny</i>, Maid to <i>Widow Ranter</i>. +<i>Nell</i>, Maid at the Inn. <i>Anaria</i>, Confidante to the <i>Indian +Queen</i>. Maid to Madam <i>Surelove</i>. Bailiffs, Rabble, Negroes. +I have supplied the +<span class="pagenum notes">407</span> +name <i>Jeffery</i> to the Coachman from i, <span class="smallroman">III</span> (p. 239), and also designated Mrs. +<i>Flirt</i> ‘a Tapstress’. <i>Daring</i>, which name is indifferently +spelt in the 4to 1690 <i>Dareing</i> or <i>Daring</i>, I have given +consistently throughout. For <i>Chrisante</i> 1724 sometimes has +<i>Crisante</i>. To the Scene I have added ‘<i>James-Town</i>, and the +surrounding Country.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote5" id="widow_textnote5" href="#widow_texttag5">p. 226, l. 3</a> +<i>Jack.</i> I have inserted this name from <i>infra</i> l. 20.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote6" id="widow_textnote6" href="#widow_texttag6">p. 226, l. 17</a> +<i>Enter Flirt and Nell.</i> I have supplied this necessary +entrance.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote7" id="widow_textnote7" href="#widow_texttag7">p. 227, l. 9</a> +<i>Exit Nell.</i> I have inserted this exit. Nell’s entrance is marked +later and she is certainly not on the stage during the ensuing +scene.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote8" id="widow_textnote8" href="#widow_texttag8">p. 227, l. 27</a> +<i>I.</i> Omitted in 4to 1690.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote9" id="widow_textnote9" href="#widow_texttag9">p. 227, l. 30</a> +<i>being.</i> ‘was’ 4to 1690.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote10" id="widow_textnote10" href="#widow_texttag10">p. 227, l. 35</a> +<i>Cully in.</i> ‘Cully’ as a verb. 1724 ‘Cully to’. ‘Cully’ as a +substantive.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote11" id="widow_textnote11" href="#widow_texttag11">p. 228, l. 10</a> +<i>any thing.</i> 4to 1690 ‘any thing any thing’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote12" id="widow_textnote12" href="#widow_texttag12">p. 229, l. 1</a> +<i>fail, thou.</i> 4to 1690 ‘fail, there thou’. This insertion of +‘there’ interrupts the sense.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote13" id="widow_textnote13" href="#widow_texttag13">p. 229, l. 26</a> +<i>wherever.</i> 1724 ‘whenever’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote14" id="widow_textnote14" href="#widow_texttag14">p. 230, l. 1</a> +<i>whom.</i> 4to 1690 ‘<i>which</i>’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote15" id="widow_textnote15" href="#widow_texttag15">p. 230, l. 34</a> +<i>stand.</i> 4to 1690 ‘<i>stands</i>’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote16" id="widow_textnote16" href="#widow_texttag16">p. 231, l. 24</a> +<i>Smoke.</i> 1724 ‘Tobacco’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote17" id="widow_textnote17" href="#widow_texttag17">p. 231, l. 28</a> +<i>Exit Nell.</i> I have supplied this stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote18" id="widow_textnote18" href="#widow_commtag9">p. 231, l. 34</a> +<i>paulter.</i> 1724 ‘paultry’. <i>Vide</i> <a class="comm" href="#widow_commnote9">critical note</a> on this passage.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote19" id="widow_textnote19" href="#widow_texttag19">p. 232, l. 8</a> +<i>and Nell with drink, pipes, etc.</i> I have supplied these words.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote20" id="widow_textnote20" href="#widow_texttag20">p. 232, l. 19</a> +<i>take.</i> 4to 1690 ‘took’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote21" id="widow_textnote21" href="#widow_texttag21">p. 232, l. 34</a> +<i>an.</i> 4to 1690 ‘on’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote22" id="widow_textnote22" href="#widow_commtag12">p. 233, l. 28</a> +<i>the Bob.</i> 1724 ‘a Bob’. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_commnote12"> +Critical note</a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote23" id="widow_textnote23" href="#widow_texttag23">p. 234, l. 28</a> +<i>Guinea.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Guinia’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote24" id="widow_textnote24" href="#widow_texttag24">p. 235, l. 17</a> +<i>The Council-Table.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote25" id="widow_textnote25" href="#widow_texttag25">p. 235, l. 22</a> +<i>give.</i> My own emendation: previous editions ‘be’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote26" id="widow_textnote26" href="#widow_texttag26">p. 236, l. 12</a> +<i>make.</i> 4to 1690 ‘have’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote27" id="widow_textnote27" href="#widow_texttag27">p. 237, l. 6</a> +<i>Down. I say.</i> 4to 1690 wrongly gives this speech to Dunce.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote28" id="widow_textnote28" href="#widow_texttag28">p. 238, l. 25</a> +<i>If we wou’d.</i> 1724 ‘If he wou’d’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote29" id="widow_textnote29" href="#widow_texttag29">p. 239, l. 25</a> +<i>Jeffery.</i> I have supplied the name here from the following +line.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote30" id="widow_textnote30" href="#widow_texttag30">p. 239, l. 31</a> +<i>Exit.</i> Not noted in former editions.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote31" id="widow_textnote31" href="#widow_texttag31">p. 240, l. 2</a> +<i>of a Baboon.</i> 4to 1690 ‘of Baboone’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote32" id="widow_textnote32" href="#widow_commtag13">p. 240, l. 5</a> +<i>Tumbler.</i> 4to 1690 misprints ‘Fumbler’. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_commnote13"> +Critical note</a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote33" id="widow_textnote33" href="#widow_texttag33">p. 241, ll. 15, 18</a> +<i>Pound.</i> 1724 ‘Pounds’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote34" id="widow_textnote34" href="#widow_texttag34">p. 242, l. 32</a> +<i>Sure. reads.</i> 4to 1690 and 1724 ‘she reads’, which is +ambiguous.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote35" id="widow_textnote35" href="#widow_texttag35">p. 243, l. 16</a> +<i>de la guerre.</i> 4to 1690 ‘de la gare’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote36" id="widow_textnote36" href="#widow_texttag36">p. 244, l. 17</a> +<i>They join with Surelove.</i> Only in 4to 1690.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote37" id="widow_textnote37" href="#widow_texttag37">p. 245, l. 21</a> +<i>have Charms.</i> 1724 ‘have those Charms’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote38" id="widow_textnote38" href="#widow_texttag38">p. 245, l. 28</a> +<i>Mediator.</i> 1724 ‘Meditator’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote39" id="widow_textnote39" href="#widow_texttag39">p. 245, l. 32</a> +<i>would make me lay the Conqueror.</i> 1724 ‘would lay me a +Conqueror’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote40" id="widow_textnote40" href="#widow_commtag18">p. 248, l. 12</a> +<i>knip.</i> 1724 mis-spells this rare word ‘nip’. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_commnote18"> +Critical note</a></p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote41" id="widow_textnote41" href="#widow_texttag41">p. 252, l. 36</a> +<i>A Scots Dance.</i> 1724 ‘A Scotch Dance.’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote42" id="widow_textnote42" href="#widow_texttag42">p. 253, l. 28</a> +<i>Billet-Douxs.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Billet-Deaxs’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote43" id="widow_textnote43" href="#widow_texttag43">p. 254, l. 12</a> +<i>Drinking all this while sometimes.</i> Only in 4to 1690.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote44" id="widow_textnote44" href="#widow_texttag44">p. 255, l. 16</a> +<i>Pulls a Bottle.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Pulls out a Bottle’.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">408</span> +<p><a name="widow_textnote45" id="widow_textnote45" href="#widow_texttag45">p. 255, l. 28</a> +<i>Drinks.</i> Only in 4to 1690.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote46" id="widow_textnote46" href="#widow_texttag46">p. 256, l. 31</a> +<i>durst.</i> 4to 1690 ‘darst’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote47" id="widow_textnote47" href="#widow_texttag47">p. 258, l. 26</a> +<i>Enter Brag.</i> Both 4to 1690 and 1724 have ‘Enter a Messenger’, and +give l. 27 speech-prefix ‘Mes.’ Both, however, give the next speech +he speaks (l. 33) to Brag and have later ‘Exit Brag.’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote48" id="widow_textnote48" href="#widow_texttag48">p. 259, l. 5</a> +<i>Whimsey.</i> Both 4to 1690 and 1724 here and elsewhere cut the name +down to ‘Whim.’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote49" id="widow_textnote49" href="#widow_texttag49">p. 259, l. 9</a> +<i>wish’d that the Plot.</i> 4to 1690 ‘wish’d the Plot’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote50" id="widow_textnote50" href="#widow_texttag50">p. 261, l. 17</a> +<i>care.</i> 1724 ‘ear’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote51" id="widow_textnote51" href="#widow_texttag51">p. 262, l. 25</a> +<i>Wellman’s Guards.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Wellman, his Guards’. But Wellman has +not left the stage. The comma printed by 1690 is probably a mistake and +we should read ‘Wellman his Guards’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote52" id="widow_textnote52" href="#widow_texttag52">p. 263, l. 24</a> +<i>Exit.</i> 4to 1690 gives no direction. 1724 has ‘Exeunt.’ But +Timorous is left alone on the stage.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote53" id="widow_textnote53" href="#widow_texttag53">p. 264, l. 1</a> +<i>hollow.</i> 4to 1690 ‘hallow’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote54" id="widow_textnote54" href="#widow_texttag54">p. 266, l. 15</a> +<i>That.</i> Omitted in 4to 1690.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote55" id="widow_textnote55" href="#widow_texttag55">p. 270, l. 8</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> 4to 1690 gives no stage direction here.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote56" id="widow_textnote56" href="#widow_texttag56">p. 272, l. 28</a> +<i>’tis a tittle of the D— breed.</i> +<span class="aside">sic</span> +4to 1690. 1724 ‘’tis little of the D— breed’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote57" id="widow_textnote57" href="#widow_texttag57">p. 274, l. 1</a> +<i>haste with.</i> 1724 ‘haste you with’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote58" id="widow_textnote58" href="#widow_texttag58">p. 275, l. 28</a> +<i>stands and stares a while.</i> 1724 ‘stands a while and stares’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote59" id="widow_textnote59" href="#widow_texttag59">p. 277, l. 28</a> +<i>shall be.</i> 4to 1690 ‘shall not be’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote60" id="widow_textnote60" href="#widow_texttag60">p. 279, l. 12</a> +<i>Priests.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Priest.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote61" id="widow_textnote61" href="#widow_texttag61">p. 289. l. 10</a> +<i>draw.</i> 4to 1690 ‘draws’, but not as a stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote62" id="widow_textnote62" href="#widow_texttag62">p. 289, l. 21</a> +<i>Scene III.</i> I have numbered this scene.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote63" id="widow_textnote63" href="#widow_texttag63">p. 290, l. 14</a> +<i>Daring, looks.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Daring, and looks’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote64" id="widow_textnote64" href="#widow_texttag64">p. 290, l. 31</a> +<i>devote.</i> 1724 ‘divorce’, a bad error.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote65" id="widow_textnote65" href="#widow_texttag65">p. 290, l. 33</a> +<i>the fittest.</i> 1724 ‘a fit’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote66" id="widow_textnote66" href="#widow_texttag66">p. 295, l. 9</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Ex.’ 1724 ‘Exit’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote67" id="widow_textnote67" href="#widow_texttag67">p. 296, l. 8</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> I have supplied this necessary stage direction.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote68" id="widow_textnote68" href="#widow_texttag68">p. 296, l. 11</a> +<i>beat.</i> 4to 1690 ‘beating’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote69" id="widow_textnote69" href="#widow_texttag69">p. 296, l. 13</a> +<i>fight, lay.</i> 4to 1690 ‘fight, so that they lay’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote70" id="widow_textnote70" href="#widow_texttag70">p. 296, l. 22</a> +<i>All go out.</i> Previous editions ‘Goes out.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote71" id="widow_textnote71" href="#widow_texttag71">p. 296, l. 23</a> +<i>Scene II.</i> I have numbered this scene.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote72" id="widow_textnote72" href="#widow_texttag72">p. 298, l. 26</a> +<i>All Exeunt.</i> I have added this direction.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote73" id="widow_textnote73" href="#widow_texttag73">p. 298, l. 27</a> +<i>Scene III.</i> I have numbered this scene.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote74" id="widow_textnote74" href="#widow_texttag74">p. 299, l. 12</a> +<i>submission.</i> 1724 ‘Admission’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote75" id="widow_textnote75" href="#widow_texttag75">p. 299, l. 17</a> +<i>Pauwomungian.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Pauwmungian’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote76" id="widow_textnote76" href="#widow_texttag76">p. 300, l. 2</a> +<i>After Noise.</i> 1724 omits ‘After’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote77" id="widow_textnote77" href="#widow_texttag77">p. 303, l. 16</a> +<i>They go out.</i> Previous editions ‘Goes out.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote78" id="widow_textnote78" href="#widow_texttag78">p. 303, l. 23</a> +<i>Scene IV. Changes to another part of the Wood.</i> All previous +editions ‘Scene changes to a Wood.’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote79" id="widow_textnote79" href="#widow_texttag79">p. 304, l. 21</a> +<i>are.</i> 4to 1690 ‘is’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote80" id="widow_textnote80" href="#widow_texttag80">p. 305, l. 12</a> +<i>go out.</i> 4to 1690 ‘goes out’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote81" id="widow_textnote81" href="#widow_texttag81">p. 305, l. 21</a> +<i>Whimsey.</i> In former editions abbreviated to ‘Whim.’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote82" id="widow_textnote82" href="#widow_texttag82">p. 306, l. 9</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> Former editions ‘Exit Dunce.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene v</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote83" id="widow_textnote83" href="#widow_texttag83">p. 306, l. 10</a> +<i>Scene V.</i> I have numbered this scene.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote84" id="widow_textnote84" href="#widow_texttag84">p. 306, l. 18</a> +<i>Lover’s.</i> 4to 1690 ‘Love’s’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote85" id="widow_textnote85" href="#widow_texttag85">p. 306, l. 20</a> +<i>more.</i> 1724 omits.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">409</span> +<p><a name="widow_textnote86" id="widow_textnote86" href="#widow_texttag86">p. 306, l. 32</a> +<i>and the rest.</i> Previous editions ‘and officers’, but plainly all +the characters of the preceding scene assemble.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote87" id="widow_textnote87" href="#widow_texttag87">p. 307, l. 21</a> +<i>What has he, Mistress?</i> 4to 1690 omits.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_textnote88" id="widow_textnote88" href="#widow_commtag35">p. 309, l. 1</a> +<i>Epilogue.</i> It will be noted that with some trifling alterations +this is the Prologue to <i>Abdelazar</i>. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_commnote35"> +Critical note</a></p> + + +<span class="pagenum notes">415</span> + +<h4>Notes: Critical And Explanatory.</h4> + + +<h5 class="smallcaps">The Widow Ranter.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dedication</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote1" id="widow_commnote1" href="#widow_commtag1">p. 221</a> +<i>Madam Welldon.</i> This Dedicatory Epistle only appears in 4to 1690. +The lady doubtless belonged to a branch of the famous Weldons, of +Swanscombe, Kent, and is probably to be identified with Madam Lucy +Weldon, <i>née</i> Necton, the wife of Colonel George Weldon.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote2" id="widow_commnote2" href="#widow_commtag2">p. 222</a> +<i>G. J.</i> Almost certainly George Jenkins, of whom we have two copies +of complimentary verse prefixed to <i>La Montre, or The Lover’s +Watch</i>. <i>vide</i> Vol. VI, pp. 9-11.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Prologue</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote3" id="widow_commnote3" href="#widow_commtag3">p. 223</a> +<i>Prologue.</i> This prologue was first spoken to Shadwell’s comedy, +<i>The True Widow</i>, produced at the Duke’s Theatre, Dorset Garden, 21 +March, 1678, and it is printed with all copies of that play. It was, no +doubt, used on the present occasion by permission of Dryden. It will be +noticed that the Epilogue to <i>The Widow Ranter</i> is the Prologue to +<i>Abdelazar</i>.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote4" id="widow_commnote4" href="#widow_commtag4">p. 223</a> +<i>Muss.</i> A scramble. cf. <i>Antony and Cleopatra</i>, iii, +13:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p class="halfway">... of late, when I cried ‘Ho!’</p> +<p>Like boys unto a muss, Kings would start forth,</p> +<p>And cry ‘Your will?’</p> +</div> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote5" id="widow_commnote5" href="#widow_commtag5">p. 226</a> +<i>a Cogue of Brandy.</i> ‘Cogue’ is a Kentish word. <i>Kent +Glossary</i> (1887), has ‘cogue; a dram of brandy’; and Wright, +<i>Eng. Dial. Dic.</i>, who gives ‘cogue’ as exclusively Kentish, +assigns precisely the same meaning. D’Urfey, however, <i>Pills to Purge +Melancholy</i> (1719), vi, p. 351, has ‘a cogue of good ale’.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">416</span> +<p><a name="widow_commnote6" id="widow_commnote6" href="#widow_commtag6">p. 227</a> +<i>Groom Porter’s.</i> The Groom Porter was an officer of the Royal +Household. This post was abolished in the reign of George III. From the +sixteenth century he regulated all matters connected with card playing, +gambling, and dicing within the precincts of the court. He even +furnished cards and dice, and settled disputes concerning the game.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote7" id="widow_commnote7" href="#widow_commtag7">p. 227</a> +<i>high and low Flats and Bars.</i> i.e. Doctored dice. cf. <i>Chamber’s +Cycl. Supp.</i> (1753), ‘Barr Dice, a species of false dice so +formed that they will not easily lie on certain sides.’ This cant term +is found as early as 1545. cf. Ascham’s <i>Toxophilus</i>. Flats are +also cards. —(Grose, and J. H. Vaux, <i>Flash Dic.</i>)</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote8" id="widow_commnote8" href="#widow_commtag8">p. 231</a> +<i>shier.</i> Schire = clear; pure. A Gaelic word. cf. Herd, +<i>Scotch Songs</i> (2nd ed. 1776), 11, <i>Gloss.</i>—‘We call +clear liquor shire’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote9" id="widow_commnote9" href="#widow_commtag9">p. 231</a> +<i>paulter.</i> Mean; worthless. This rare form is perhaps found only +here. The <i>N.E.D.</i> does not give it. But we have ‘paltering’ and +‘palterly’. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_textnote18"> +Text note</a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote10" id="widow_commnote10" href="#widow_commtag10">p. 232</a> +<i>Hoggerds.</i> A rare word, being obsolete for Hogherd. cf. De Parc’s +<i>Francion</i>, iv, 3 (tr. 1655): ‘Our Regent (who had in him no more +humanity than a Hoggard).’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote11" id="widow_commnote11" href="#widow_commtag11">p. 233</a> +<i>trusting for old Oliver’s Funeral broke.</i> The obsequies of Oliver +Cromwell, originally fixed for 9 November, 1658, owing to the +extraordinary magnificence of the preparations were not performed until +23 November. For many days his waxen effigy, dressed in robes of state, +was exhibited at Somerset House. The expenses totalled £60,000, and it +was a public scandal that a great part of this wanton and wasteful +extravagance remained unpaid, to the undoing of the undertakers. On 25 +August, 1659, in the <i>Kalendar of State Affairs (Domestic)</i>, the +following occurs: ‘Report by the Committee appointed by Parliament to +examine what is due for mourning for the late General Cromwell, that on +perusal of the bills signed by Cromwell’s servants, and of the account +of Abr. Barrington, his auditor, it appears that £19,303 0<i>s.</i> +11<i>d.</i> is still due and unpaid for mourning. Also that Nath. +Waterhouse, servant to Rich. Cromwell, should be authorized to see the +persons in a list [missing] annexed for that mourning. Col. Rich to make +this report. Schedule of debts due to 11 mercers and drapers for the +funeral of the late General Cromwell. Total £19,303 0<i>s.</i> +11<i>d.</i>’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote12" id="widow_commnote12" href="#widow_commtag12">p. 233</a> +<i>they bear the Bob.</i> i.e. They join in the chorus or refrain. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_textnote22"> +Text note</a></p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote13" id="widow_commnote13" href="#widow_commtag13">p. 240</a> +<i>shoveing the Tumbler.</i> ‘Thieves’ cant for being whipped at the +cart’s tail.’ —(Grose). Tumbler, perhaps = tumbril. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_textnote32"> +Text note</a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote14" id="widow_commnote14" href="#widow_commtag14">p. 240</a> +<i>lifting.</i> Filching. This slang term is very old and common.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote15" id="widow_commnote15" href="#widow_commtag15">p. 240</a> +<i>filing the Cly.</i> ‘Thieves’ cant for picking a pocket.’ +—(Grose). ‘Cly,’ a pocket.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote16" id="widow_commnote16" href="#widow_commtag16">p. 240</a> +<i>Regalio.</i> An obsolete and, indeed, erroneous form of ‘regalo’, an +elegant repast; choice food or drink. The word is very common, and the +spelling, ‘Regalio’, is frequent in the second half of the seventeenth +century.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote17" id="widow_commnote17" href="#widow_commtag17">p. 246</a> +<i>Anticks.</i> Quaint fantastic measures. A favourite word with +Mrs. Behn.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote18" id="widow_commnote18" href="#widow_commtag18">p. 248</a> +<i>to knip.</i> To clip. (Dutch ‘knippen’, to cut, snip.) <i>N.E.D.</i> +neglecting this passage, only gives the meaning as to bite or crop +(grass) of cattle. It appends two quotations having this sense—the +one from Dunbar’s <i>Poems</i> (1500-20), the second from Douglas, +<i>Aeneis</i> (1513). +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_textnote40"> +Text note</a></p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">417</span> +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote19" id="widow_commnote19" href="#widow_commtag19">p. 252</a> +<i>Mundungus.</i> Shag, or rank tobacco. cf. Sir R. Howard, <i>The +Committee</i> (folio, 1665), ii: ‘A Pipe of the worst Mundungus.’ +Shadwell, <i>The Humourists</i> (1671), iii, speaks with contempt of +‘bottle ale ... and a pipe of Mundungus.’ Johnson in his +<i>Dictionary</i> (1755) has: ‘Mundungus. Stinking tobacco. A cant +word.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote20" id="widow_commnote20" href="#widow_commtag20"><ins class="correction" title=". missing">p.</ins> 261</a> +<i>a Bob.</i> cf. Prologue, <i>The False Count</i> (Vol. III, +p. 100), ‘dry bobs,’ and note on that passage, pp. 479-80. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_crossref20"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The False Count</i></a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote21" id="widow_commnote21" href="#widow_commtag21">p. 263</a> +<i>barbicu.</i> Better ‘barbecu’. An Americanism meaning to broil over +live coals. Beverley, <i>Virginia</i>, iii, <span class="smallroman">XII</span> (1705), thus explains it: ‘Broyling ... at some +distance above the live coals [the Indians] & we from them call +Barbecuing.’ cf. Pope, <i>Imitations of Horace</i>, Sat. ii, 25, +26:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><i>Oldfield</i> with more than Harpy throat endued</p> +<p>Cries, ‘Send me, Gods, a whole hog barbecued!’</p> +</div> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote22" id="widow_commnote22" href="#widow_commtag22">p. 264</a> +<i>De-Wit.</i> ‘To De-Wit’ = to lynch. The word often occurs; it is +derived from the deaths of John and Cornelius De Wit, opponents of +William III (when stadt-holder). They were murdered by a mob in 1672. +cf. ‘to godfrey’ = to strangle, from the alleged murder of Sir Edmond +Bury Godfrey* in 1678. Crowne, <i>Sir Courtly Nice</i> (1685), ii, <span +class="smallroman">II</span>, has: ‘Don’t throttle me, don’t +<i>Godfrey</i> me.’ The <i>N.E.D.</i> fails to include ‘to godfrey’.</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* It is now pretty certainly established that this melancholist +committed suicide.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote23" id="widow_commnote23" href="#widow_commtag23">p. 265</a> +<i>Dalton’s Country-Justice.</i> A well-known work by the celebrated +lawyer Michael Dalton (1554-1620). It was long held in great repute and +regarded as supremely authoritative. On a page of advertisements (Some +Books printed this Year 1677. For <i>John Amery</i>, at the +<i>Peacock</i>, against St. <i>Dunstan’s Church</i> in +<i>Fleet-street</i>) in the <i>Rover I</i> (4to 1677), occurs ‘<i>The +Country Justice</i>, Containing the practice of the Justices of the +Peace, in and out of their Sessions, with an Abridgment of all Statutes +relating thereunto to this present Year 1677. By <i>Michael Dalton</i> +Esq; <i>Fol.</i> price bound 12s.’ cf. <i>The Plain Dealer</i> (4to +1676), iii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>:</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><i>Widow Blackacre.</i> Let’s see Dalton, Hughs, Shepherd, +Wingate.</p> +<p><i>Bookseller’s Boy.</i> We have no law books.</p> +</div> + +<p class="right"><a href="#brother_commnote14"> +Return to <i>Younger Brother</i> notes</a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote24" id="widow_commnote24" href="#widow_commtag24">p. 266</a> +<i>a Cagg.</i> Now corrupted to ‘Keg’, a small cask. cf. +<i>Cotgrave</i> (1611), ‘Encacquer’ to put in to a little barrell or +cag. <i>N.E.D.</i> quotes this present passage.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote25" id="widow_commnote25" href="#widow_commtag25">p. 279</a> +<i>Agah Yerkin.</i> The various dictionaries and vocabularies of the +Indian languages I have had resource to give none of these words. There +is, however, so great a confusion of Indian jargons and dialects that +they cannot be pronounced fictitious. Yet Mrs. Behn would hardly, even +if she had learned the language, have retained any exact knowledge of +such barbaric tongues, and one may almost certainly say that these cries +and incantations are her own composition. Amongst other authorities I +have consulted <i>The Voyage of Robert Dudley ... to the West +Indies</i>, 1594-5, edited by G. F. Warner for the Hakluyt Society +(1889). Dr. Brinton’s <i>Arawack Language of Guiana</i>, an exhaustive +monograph, (Philadelphia, 1871.) M. M. Crevaux, Sagot, +L. Adam, <i>Grammaires et +<span class="pagenum notes">418</span> +Vocabulaires roucouyenne, arrouague, piapoco, et d’autres Langues de la +Région des Guyanes</i> (Paris, 1882). <i>Relation des Missions ... dans +les Isles et dans la terre ferme de l’Amerique Meridionale ... avec une +introduction à la langue des Gabilis Sauvages</i> (Paris, 1655), by +Father Pierre Pelleprat, S.J.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote26" id="widow_commnote26" href="#widow_commtag26">p. 279</a> +<i>Quiocto.</i> Mrs. Behn probably meant to spell this word +‘Quiyoughcto’, the sound being identical. There is in Virginia a river +which in the seventeenth century was called the ‘Quiyough’. The +inhabitants of the banks of this river had mysterious or supernatural +properties ascribed to them. <i>In the Voyages & Discoveries of +Capt. John Smith</i> (1606), we have: ‘They thinke that their Werowanees +and Priests, which they also esteeme Quiyoughcosughes, when they are +dead, doe goe beyond the mountaines towards the setting of the sun.’ No +doubt Mrs. Behn knew this passage. I owe the above interesting note +to the kindness of my friend Mr. Gosse.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote27" id="widow_commnote27" href="#widow_commtag27">p. 284</a> +<i>Cadees.</i> The original form of ‘cadets’ from the French +pronunciation. <i>N.E.D.</i> cites this passage as the earliest +occurence of the word.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote28" id="widow_commnote28" href="#widow_commtag28">p. 293</a> +<i>Cadeeing.</i> The verb ‘to cadee’ is only found here and may be a +nonce phrase. <i>N.E.D.</i> does not include it.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote29" id="widow_commnote29" href="#widow_commtag29">p. 293</a> +<i>to top Tobacco.</i> i.e. to cultivate our tobacco plantations.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote30" id="widow_commnote30" href="#widow_commtag30">p. 295</a> +<i>Flambeaux.</i> Mrs. Behn (or, haply, George Jenkins, the first editor +of <i>The Widow Ranter</i>), here uses the ordinary form ‘flambeaux’ as +a plural. In <i>The Emperor of the Moon</i> (Vol. III, p. 418), she +writes ‘a Flambeaux’. In addition to the example from Herbert which I +give in my note (Vol. III, p. 475), I find a plural +‘Flambeaux’s’ used by Mrs. Manley. cf. <i>Secret Memoirs & Manners +of Several Persons of Quality of Both Sexes from the New Atalantis</i> +(1709, the Second Edition), Vol. I, p. 88: ‘She but thinks of an +expensive Funeral, white Flambeaux’s, Chariots, Horses, Streamers, and a +Train of Mourners.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote31" id="widow_commnote31" href="#widow_commtag31">p. 302</a> +<i>Starters.</i> i.e. cowards. cf. <i>The Double Marriage</i> (Fletcher +and Massinger, folio 1647), ii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Master.</span> +We’ll spare her our main-top-sail;</p> +<p>She shall not look us long, we are no starters.</p> +<p>Down with the fore-sail too! we’ll spoom before her.</p> +</div> + +<p>cf. also <i>The Lucky Chance</i>, i, <span class="smallroman">I</span>: ‘I am no Starter.’ (Vol. III, p. 193), and +note on that passage, p. 485. +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_crossref31"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The Lucky Chance</i></a></p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote32" id="widow_commnote32" href="#widow_commtag32">p. 302</a> +<i>rubbing off.</i> Very common slang still in use for ‘making off’, +‘clearing out’, cf. Shadwell’s <i>The Virtuoso</i> (1676), Act v, sc. +<span class="smallroman">III</span>, the Masquerade, where Sir Samuel +Harty says: ‘Who held my sword while I danc’d? ... A curse on him! +he’s rubb’d off with it!’</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote33" id="widow_commnote33" href="#widow_commtag33">p. 303</a> +<i>Dullman and Timorous.</i> No entrance has been marked for these two +characters, and I have not ventured to insert one owing to the fact that +this fifth Act has been so cut (e.g. the omission of the Indian King’s +ghost, as noted by Jenkins in the Dedication) and mutilated that it +would be perilous to make any insertion or alteration here as the copy +now stands. We may suppose these two coward justices to have rushed on +in one of the many mêlées.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote34" id="widow_commnote34" href="#widow_commtag34">p. 304</a> +<i>Hannibal.</i> Hannibal, when betrayed by Prusias, King of Bithynia, +at whose court he had taken refuge, poisoned himself rather than fall +into the hands of the Romans.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">419</span> +<p class="notehead"> +Epilogue</p> + +<p><a name="widow_commnote35" id="widow_commnote35" href="#widow_commtag35">p. 309</a> +<i>Epilogue.</i> This Epilogue is, it will be noted, almost precisely +the same as the Prologue to <i>Abdelazer</i>. In line 32 we have +‘Basset’ in place of the obsolescent game, ‘Beasts’ (damn’d Beasts). +Basset, which resembled Faro, was first played at Venice. cf. Evelyn’s +<i>Diary</i>, 1645 (Ascension Week at Venice): ‘We went to the Chetto de +San Felice, to see the noblemen and their ladies at basset, a game +at cards which is much used.’ It became immensely popular in England. +Evelyn, in his famous description of ‘the inexpressible luxury and +profaneness, gaming, and all dissoluteness’ on the Sunday se’nnight +before the death of Charles II, specially noted that ‘about twenty of +the great courtiers and other dissolute persons were at Basset round a +large table, a bank of at least 2000 in gold before them.’ +<a class="crossref" href="#widow_textnote88">Text note</a></p> + +</div> + +<div class="endnote"> +<h4>Cross-References</h4> + +<p><a name="widow_crossref20" id="widow_crossref20" href="#widow_commnote20">Note to p. 261</a>: <i>a Bob.</i></p> + +<p><i>False Count</i> text:</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p class="halfway">—who will desert me,</p> +<p>Because they find no dry bobs on your Party</p> +</div> + +<p><i>False Count</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>dry bobs.</i> A bob was a sarcastic jest or jibe. cf. <i>Sir Giles +Goosecappe</i> (1606), Act v, <span class="smallroman">I</span>. +‘Marry him, sweet Lady, to answere his bitter Bob,’ and Buckingham‘s +<i>The Rehearsal</i> (1671), Act iii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>, where Bayes cries: ’There‘s a bob for the Court.’ +A dry bob (literally = a blow or fillip that does not break the skin) is +an intensely bitter taunt, cf. <i>Cotgrave</i> (1611), <i>Ruade +seiche</i>, a drie bob, jeast or nip. <i>Bailey</i> (1731) has ‘<i>Dry +Bob</i>. a Taunt or Scoff’.</p> + +<p><a name="widow_crossref31" id="widow_crossref31" href="#widow_commnote31">Note to p. 302</a>: <i>Starters.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>Starter.</i> This slang word usually means a milksop, but here it +is equivalent to ‘a butterfly’, ‘a weathercock’—a man of +changeable disposition. A rare use.</p> + +</div> + + +<span class="pagenum">311</span> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<h3><a name="brother" id="brother">THE YOUNGER BROTHER;</a><br> +OR, THE AMOROUS JILT.</h3> + +<hr class="mid"> + +<span class="pagenum">312</span> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<p><a href="#brother_arg">Argument.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#brother_source">Source.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#brother_hist">Theatrical History.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_dedic">Dedication.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_pro">Prologue.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_cast">Dramatis Personæ.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_actI">Act I.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actI_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>A Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actI_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Chamber.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_actII">Act II.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>Sir Rowland’s +Lodging.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actII_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>Another +Chamber.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_actIII">Act III.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actIII_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>A rich +Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actIII_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>A Chamber, and +Alcove.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actIII_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Garden by +Night.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_actIV">Act IV.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actIV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>The Prince’s +Lodgings.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actIV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>Mirtilla at her +Toylet.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actIV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>Lady +Youthly’s.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_actV">Act V.</a></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actV_sceneI">Scene I.</a> <i>Welborn’s +Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actV_sceneII">Scene II.</a> <i>The +Dressing-Room.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actV_sceneIII">Scene III.</a> <i>A Chamber.</i></p> +<p class="inset"> +<a href="#brother_actV_sceneIV">Scene IV.</a> <i>My Lady +Youthly’s.</i></p> + +<p><a href="#brother_epi">Epilogue.</a></p> + +<p class="smallcaps"> +<a href="#brother_notes">Notes to <i>The Younger Brother</i></a></p> + +<div class="intro"> + +<span class="pagenum">313</span> +<h4><a name="brother_arg" id="brother_arg">ARGUMENT.</a></h4> + +<p><span class="firstword">Mirtilla</span>, the Amorous Jilt, who had +once been attached to George Marteen, the Younger Brother, married for a +convenience the clownish Sir Morgan Blunder. Prince Frederick, who had +seen and fallen in love with her during a religious ceremony in a Ghent +convent, follows her to England. They meet accidentally and she promises +him a private interview. George Marteen had recommended a page to +Mirtilla, and the lad is his sister Olivia in disguise. Mirtilla, +although she falls in love with her ‘smooth-chin’d boy’, receives Prince +Frederick, but the house wherein she lodges catches fire that night, and +it is George Marteen who, in spite of the fact that he knows his friend +the Prince is with her, procures a ladder and rescues the lady at some +danger to himself. The Prince is able to escape by the same way, and he +then carries Mirtilla to his own lodgings, where feigning to be ill with +fatigue and terror she begs her lover to leave her to repose. This is +done with the idea of entertaining her page, and on Frederick’s approach +she conceals Olivia, who thus creeps off unseen, beneath the train of +her gown, whilst she herself retires with the amorous Prince. None the +less, Mirtilla still pursues Olivia, and eventually Frederick discovers +she is a wanton jilt, as he surprises her leading the page to her bed. +He is, however, reconciled when Mirtilla discovering to her amaze that +the lad is a woman reveals this fact to the Prince to confound him, but +afterwards avowing her frailty, throws herself on Frederick’s +generosity. Olivia has been promised by her old father, Sir Rowland +Marteen, to Welborn, whom she has never seen. On meeting Welborn she +falls in love with him, without knowing who he is, and he, also, whilst +ignorant of her name, is soon enamoured of her in turn. Prince Frederick +lodges in the same house as Welborn and it is hither that after the fire +she attends Mirtilla. Welborn, supposing her to be Mirtilla’s page, out +of kindness offers her half his bed, which for fear of arousing +suspicion she is bound to accept. She slips away, however, before +daybreak, leaving a letter for her companion, by which he learns that +the page is none other than the lady whom he had seen in the Mall. +Welborn and Olivia are eventually married. George Marteen’s elder +brother, Sir Merlin, a boon companion of Sir Morgan Blunder, is a +rakehelly dog, who leads a wild town life to the great anger of old Sir +Rowland. George, who whilst secretly leading a gay life under the name +of Lejere, appears before his father as a demure and sober young +prentice, is designed for Lady Youthly, an ancient, toothless crone, +palsied and blind with extreme old age, whose grand-daughter, Teresia, +is to be married to Sir Rowland himself. George, however, falls in love +with Teresia, who is also pursued by Sir Merlin, and finally weds her in +despite of his father, brother and the beldame. But Sir Rowland shortly +relents and even forgives his eldest son, who has married Diana, the +cast off mistress of a gambler, whilst Lady Youthly is left to the +tender consolations of her chaplain.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">314</span> +<h4><a name="brother_source" id="brother_source">SOURCE.</a></h4> + +<p><i>The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt</i> was written (in +great part at least) by Mrs. Behn a good many years before her death, +after which it was brought on the stage under the auspices of Gildon, in +1696; and in the Epistle Dedicatory he expressly says ‘all the +Alterations which I made were in the first Act, in removing that old +bustle about <i>Whigg</i> and <i>Tory</i> (which was the subject of most +of the Second Scene) and placing the Character of a <i>Rake-hell</i> in +its room.’ Mrs. Behn probably wrote the first Act sometime about the +years 1681-3, when there was a continual ‘rout with Whigging and with +Torying’, and afterwards completed the remainder at her leisure. In his +notice of this comedy Langbaine’s editor (Gildon), who finds Mirtilla +‘genteel’, says that Astrea took a portion of the plot ‘from a true +story of the brother of Col. Henry Martin, and a Lady that must be +nameless. See the Novel call’d <i>Hatige</i>.’ <i>Hattige: or, the +Amours of the King of Tamaran. A Novel</i>, by Gabriel de Brémond, +was translated in 1680. (12mo. For Simon the African: Amsterdam, [R. +Bentley? London.]) A biting satire on Charles II and Lady +Castlemaine, the tale is told with considerable spirit and attained +great vogue. Another edition was issued in 1683, and under the title +<i>The Beautiful Turk</i> it is to be found in <i>A Select +Collection of Novels</i> (1720 and 1729), Vol. III. This novel had first +appeared anonymously at Cologne in 1676—<i>Hattigé ou la Belle +Turque, qui contient ses amours avec le roi Tamaran</i>—and Nodier +in his <i>Mélanges d’une petite Bibliothèque</i> describes a ‘clef’. +Hattigé is, of course, Lady Castlemaine; Tamaran, Charles II; and the +handsome Rajeb with whom the lady deceives the monarch, Jack Churchill. +It is a wanton little book, and at the time must have been irresistibly +piquant. Beyond the likeness between the characters of Mirtilla and +Hattigé the novel has, however, little in common with Mrs. Behn’s play. +Gildon’s comment is, of course, founded upon the passage in +<i>Oroonoko</i> which says: ‘We met on the river with Colonel Martin, +a man of great gallantry, wit and goodness, and whom I have +celebrated in a character of my new comedy by his own name in memory of +so brave a man.’</p> + +<p>In D’Urfey’s <i>The Royalist</i>, an excellent comedy produced at +Dorset Garden, 1682 (4to, 1682), the author introduces a certain damsel +Philippa, who, disguised as a page, follows the loyal Sir Charles +Kinglove with whom she is enamoured. At the end of the second Act her +boy’s clothes involve her in the same predicament as befalls Olivia in +Act iv of <i>The Younger Brother</i>. Although Genest prefers Mrs. +Behn’s treatment of the situation, it must, I think, be allowed +that D’Urfey has managed the jest with far greater verve and spirit. +Honest Tom D’Urfey is in fact one of the least read and most maligned of +all our dramatists. He had the merriest comic gifts, and perhaps when +the critics and literary historians deign to read his plays he will +attain a higher position in our theatrical libraries.</p> + +<p>Some critics have suggested that D’Urfey, in his <i>The Intrigues at +Versailles</i>, produced at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 1697, may have taken a +hint +<span class="pagenum">315</span> +from Mrs. Behn’s Mirtilla, and Wycherley’s Olivia (<i>The Plain +Dealer</i>) for his ‘Madame de Vandosme a right jilt in all humours’, +a rôle created by Mrs. Barry. There is indeed some resemblance +between all these three characters, base heartless coquettes; and +D’Urfey, in making his jilt prefer Sir Blunder Bosse, ‘a dull sordid +brute and mongrel, whose humour is to call everybody by clownish names’, +to all her other gallants, seems not to have forgotten Mirtilla’s +marriage with Sir Morgan Blunder. The very names call attention to the +plagiarism. <i>The Intrigues at Versailles</i> is none the less a clever +and witty comedy, but a little overcrowded with incident and +business.</p> + + +<h4><a name="brother_hist" id="brother_hist">THEATRICAL +HISTORY.</a></h4> + +<p>As sufficiently explained by Gildon, under whose auspices this +posthumous play was produced at Drury Lane in 1696, <i>The Younger +Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt</i> met with brutal treatment from the +audience. There appears to have been a faction, particularly in evidence +at its first performance and on the third day, who were steadfastly +resolved to damn the comedy, and in spite of fine acting and every +advantage it was hissed from the boards. Gildon attributes the failure +to ‘the tedious Scenes in Blank Verse betwixt Mirtilla and Prince +Frederick’ which he thinks demanded ‘another more easy Dress,’ but, in +truth, it can only be attributed to the most verjuiced spite and +personal malice. The plot, though somewhat complicated with perhaps a +press of crowding incidents, is none the less highly interesting, and +the characters are most of them excellently, all well, drawn and +sustained. The fact that certain episodes had to be cut in +representation in order to bring the comedy within a reasonable time +limit, though it may have tended to obscure the connection of the +intrigue, could not have insured in spite of its many real merits so +absolute a doom for the much maltreated play, a sentence which +seems to have wantonly precluded any revival.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">316</span> +<h4><a name="brother_dedic" id="brother_dedic"> </a><span class="smaller"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag1" id="brother_texttag1" +href="#brother_textnote1">THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY</a> <br> +TO</span><br> +<a class="comm" name="brother_commtag1" id="brother_commtag1" href="#brother_commnote1">Collonel Codrington</a>.</h4> + + +<p><span class="firstword">The</span> unjust Sentence this Play met +with before very partial Judges in the Acting, will, I’m pretty sure, be +revers’d by the more unprejudiced Readers, and it’s evident, Merit will +exert itself so far, as to justify my Presumption in Dedicating it, +notwithstanding its small success, to you, Sir, for whom I must always +profess the highest Esteem and Value, sprung from that Nobleness of your +Nature that takes a God-like Delight in redressing the Misfortunes of +’em, more than fly to you for their unhappiness; a generous Soul +indeed, never gives a greater Proof of her Excellence, than in her +Protection of the Unfortunate; for tho suffering Merit challenges a +Regard from all, yet it meets with it from none but such as you, Sir, +who are so Eminent for that Vertue, which more than all the rest, +commands the Esteem and Veneration of the Thinking World, your +Generosity I mean, Sir, which gives the most Perfect Touches of that +likeness, man can have to his Almighty Original; for those are but +scurvey awkard Copies of Him that want it. ’Tis, I may say, the +very Essence of God, Who with our <i>Beings</i>, dispenses the grateful +Knowledge of Himself in the Benefits He bestows.</p> + +<p><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag2" id="brother_texttag2" +href="#brother_textnote2">The narrow Virtues of the Old Philosophers, +[which] were</a> rather Vices, if winnow’d well, form’d to gratify their +Proud, Lazy, Superiority, at the Expence of all the Publick Duties +incumbent on mankind, whom they pretend to Purge from his Passions, to +make him happy, by that means to amuse our Curiosity with Chymera’s, +whilst we lost our real Good, will still naturally flow from those +Springs of Pleasure, Honour, Glory, and Noble Actions, the Passions +given us by Heaven for our common Good. But their own Practice generally +shew’d the Vanity of their Emperic Boasts, when they Buried all the +Nobler Pleasures of the Mind in Avarice, and Pedantick Pride, as +<i>Lucian</i> has pleasantly made out in <i>Hermotimus</i>.</p> + +<p>Those Notional Excellencies that divert us from, or weaken a Publick +Spirit, are always False and Hypocritical, that under a gaudy out-side +conceals a rotten Carcass, full of Infectious Distempers that destroy +the noblest end of our Being, <i>The doing good to one another</i>. +Vanity has always been the Refuge of little Souls, that place their +Value in a False Greatness, Hyppocrisie, and great Titles. What a +seeming Holiness does for the +<span class="pagenum">317</span> +Avaritious, Designing Saint; Titles do for the proud Avarice of the meer +Man of Quality, cheaply Purchasing a Respect from the many; but ’tis the +Generous man only that fixes himself in the Hearts of the most valuable +part of mankind, when proper Merit only is esteem’d, and the Man, not +his Equipage, and Accidental Appurtenances respected.</p> + +<p>The Application of this, I shall leave to all that know you, Sir, who +are all sensible what Virtues you make your Darlings, and choice of +Virtue shews the Nobleness of our Temper, as much as Choice of Friends, +the degrees of our Understandings; and if that be true that most Men +choose those Virtues which are nearest a-kin to their Darling Vices, I’m +sure ’twill be a strong proof, that ev’n your Failings (for ev’ry Man +has his share of them too) are more Beneficial to the world than the +Vertues of a numerous part of Mankind. In Collonel <i>Codrington</i> +indeed, we find the true Spirit and Bravery of old <i>Rome</i>, that +despises all dangers, that in the Race of Glory thou art the Noble +Chace. Nor can the manly Roughness of your Martial Temper (Fierce to +none but your Countries Foes) destroy that ingaging sweetness your +agreeable Conversation abounds with, which heightened with so large a +share of Wit, Learning, and Judgment, improves as well as delights; so +that to have known you any way, must give us some advantage or other. +This it was that encourag’d me to dedicate this Play, Sir, to you, of +which I may venture to say more, and with more assurance, than if it had +been my own.</p> + +<p>Mrs. BEHN was a Woman so Accomplish’d, and of so Established a Fame +among the Men of Sense, that I cou’d not suppose a very severe treatment +from the Town, which has been very indulgent to the Performances of +others; especially when, besides the Reputation of the <i>Author</i>, +the Play itself had an Intrinsic Merit; for we find it full of Humour, +Wit, and Variety; the Conversation Gay and Genteel, the Love Soft and +Pathetic, the incidents Natural, and Easy, and the Conduct of the Plot +very Justifiable. So that I may reasonably impute its miscarriage to +some Faction that was made against it, which indeed was very Evident on +the First day, and more on the endeavours employed, to render the +Profits of the Third, as small as could be.</p> + +<p>It suffer’d not, I’m sure, in the Action, nor in <a class="comm" +name="brother_commtag2" id="brother_commtag2" href="#brother_commnote2">Mr. <i>Verbruggen’s</i> reading of some of his +Part</a>, since he lost nothing of the Force of Elocution, nor +Gracefulness of Action; nor indeed can I, with Justice to my self, +impute it to any part that I ventur’d to add to the Original; for all +the Alterations which I made were in the first Act, in removing that old +bustle about <i>Whigg</i> and <i>Tory</i>, (which was the Subject of +most of the Second Scene) and placing the Character of a +<i>Rake-hell</i> in its room, which was so little, that it could not +Influence a more Capricious Audience, to the +<span class="pagenum">318</span> +Damning of the whole. There might indeed be some objections about the +Plot, but not very Rational, I think; I’m sure, at least, ’tis the +first Play, for some Years, could be quarrell’d at for having too much +Plot. In the Edition however I have put in a great deal, which the +length of the Play oblig’d me to cut out for the Action.</p> + +<p>Here, Sir, if the Play had been my own, I should have complain’d +that the Town had its favourite Fools, as well as favourite Wits, and +that Comedy or Farce from any other hand wou’d no more go down with +them, than their favourites will with true Judges that read, not see +’em. I should have had indignation enough, perhaps, to’ve rail’d at +the Criticks of all Degrees, and Denominations of Box and Pit, nay, +Galleries too, and told ’em that they were so conceited of their own +Wit, that they cou’d take no pleasure in hearing that of another, or +that Wit in a Play seeming to affront the Parts of the Audience, they +suffer’d their Resentment to destroy their Satisfaction. This, and a +great many other Satyrical Reflections, which are natural for a +Disappointed Poet to make, I shou’d then have vented; but being +satisfy’d, that the Reputation of Mrs. BEHN is not affected by the +malicious Endeavours of some of my Enemies, I now present it under +your Patronage, Sir, to the more competent Judges; Proud of the +Opportunity of Offering you an occasion of so agreeable a Province, as +the Protection of the unfortunate, and letting the World know how much I +am, Sir,</p> + +<p class="rightside">Your Humble Servant,</p> + +<p class="right"><i>CH. GILDON.</i></p> + +</div> +<!-- end div intro --> + + +<div class="play"> + +<span class="pagenum">319</span> +<h3>THE YOUNGER BROTHER;<br> +or, The Amorous Jilt.</h3> + +<h4><a name="brother_pro" id="brother_pro">PROLOGUE,</a></h4> + +<p class="center">By an unknown Hand.</p> + +<p class="center">Spoke by Mr. <i>Powell</i>.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">As</span> Rivals of each other jealous +prove,</p> +<p>And both strive which shall gain the Lady’s Love,</p> +<p>So we for your Affections daily vie:</p> +<p>Not <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag3" id="brother_texttag3" href="#brother_textnote3">an Intriguer</a> in the +Gallery</p> +<p>(Who squeezes hand of <em>Phillis</em> mask’d, that stood</p> +<p>Ogling for Sale, in Velvet Scarf and Hood)</p> +<p>Can with more Passion his dear Nymph pursue,</p> +<p>Than we to make Diversion fit for you.</p> +<p>Grant we may please, and we’ve our utmost Aim,</p> +<p>’Tis to your Favour only we lay claim.</p> +<p>In what can we oblige? Cou’d we present you</p> +<p>With <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag4" id="brother_texttag4" href="#brother_textnote4">Mistress young</a>, and +safe, it wou’d content you;</p> +<p>Then Husbands, weary’d out with Spouse alone,</p> +<p>And hen-peck’d Keepers that drudge on with one,</p> +<p>I fancy hither wou’d in Crouds resort,</p> +<p>As thick as Men for Offices to Court:</p> +<p>Who’d stay behind? the Beau above Threescore,</p> +<p>Wou’d hobble on, and gape for one bit more;</p> +<p>Men of all Stations, from the Nobles, down</p> +<p>To <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag3" id="brother_commtag3" href="#brother_commnote3">grave Sir +<em>Roger</em></a> in his Cap and Gown,</p> +<p>Wou’d hither come. But we some time must take,</p> +<p>E’er we a Project of such moment make;</p> +<p>Since that’s laid by, for your Diversion then,</p> +<p>We do invite the Brothers of the Pen;</p> +<span class="pagenum">320</span> +<p>The Courtier, Lawyer, Soldier, Player too,</p> +<p>Wit n’er had more Encouragement than now;</p> +<p>Though free, or Aliens to our Stage, we take ’em,</p> +<p>Not kick ’em out, but native Subjects make ’em.</p> +<p>The Ladies too are always welcome here,</p> +<p>Let ’em in Writing or in Box appear.</p> +<p>To that fair Sex we are oblig’d to day,</p> +<p>Oh! then be kind to a poor Orphan-Play,</p> +<p>Whose Parent while she liv’d oblig’d you all;</p> +<p>You prais’d her living, and you mourn’d her Fall.</p> +<p>Who cou’d, like her, our softer Passions move,</p> +<p>The Life of Humour, and the Soul of Love?</p> +<p>Wit’s eldest Sister; thro-out every Line,</p> +<p>You might perceive some Female Graces shine.</p> +<p>For poor <em>Astrea’s</em> Infant we implore,</p> +<p>Let it then live, though she is now no more.</p> +</div> + + + + +<span class="pagenum">321</span> +<h4><a name="brother_cast" id="brother_cast"> </a><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag5" id="brother_texttag5" href="#brother_textnote5">DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</a> </h4> + +<table class="cast" summary="cast of characters"> +<tr> +<td class="header" colspan="2">MEN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Prince <i>Frederick</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Verbruggen</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Sir <i>Rowland Marteen</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Johnson</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>George Marteen</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Powell</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Mr. <i>Welborn</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Horden</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Sir <i>Merlin Marteen</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Pinkethman</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Sir <i>Morgan Blunder</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Bullock</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Mr. <i>Twang</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Smeaton</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Britton</i>,</td> +<td>Mr. <i>Kent</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Philip</i>.</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="header" colspan="2">WOMEN.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Mirtilla</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Knight</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Olivia</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Verbruggen</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Teresia</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Temple</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Lady <i>Blunder</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Powell</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Mrs. <i>Manage</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Willis</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Lady <i>Youthley</i>,</td> +<td>Mrs. <i>Harris</i>.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><i>Diana</i>.</td> +<td></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="toppad" colspan="2"> +<p>Constable and Watch, Pages, Footmen, Masqueraders, Servants, +Rakehells, &c.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<span class="pagenum">322</span> +<h3 class="act"><a name="brother_actI" id="brother_actI"> +ACT I.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actI_sceneI" id="brother_actI_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +A Chamber.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George Marteen</em>, in a rich Riding Habit, with his Valet +<em>Britton</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Were you with Mrs. <i>Manage</i>, <i>Britton</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Britt.</span> +Yes, Sir; and she cries as much for her wanting room for you in her +House, as she would have done some forty Years ago for a Disappointment +of her Lover. But she assures me, the Lodging she has taken for you, is +the best in all <i>Lincolns-Inn-Fields</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And did you charge her to send <i>Mirtilla’s</i> Page to me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Britt.</span> +I did, Sir; and he’ll be with you instantly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Tis well—Then shall I hear some News of my <i>Mirtilla.</i> +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +<i>Britton</i>, haste thee, and get my Equipage in order; +a handsome Coach, rich Liveries, and more Footmen: for ’tis +Appearance only passes in the World—And d’ye hear, take care none +know me by any other Name than that of <i>Lejere</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Britt.</span> +I shall, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I came not from <i>Paris</i> into <i>England</i>, as my old Father +thinks, to reform into a dull wretched Life in <i>Wales.</i> No, I’ll +rather trust my kind Mistress Fortune, that has still kept me like her +Darling, than purchase a younger Brother’s narrow Stipend, at the +expence of my Pleasure and Happiness.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em> in a Page’s Habit. She runs and embraces +<em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +My ever charming Brother!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +My best, my dear <i>Olivia</i>!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">323</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +The same lovely Man still! Thy Gallantry and Beauty’s all thy own; +<i>Paris</i> could add no Graces to thy Air; nor yet pervert it into +Affectation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Spare me, and tell me how <i>Mirtilla</i> fares.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I think, Brother, I writ you word to Paris, of a Marriage concluded +betwixt me and <i>Welborn</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +That Letter I receiv’d: but from the dear <i>Mirtilla</i>, not one soft +word; not one tender Line has blest my Eyes, has eas’d my panting Heart +this tedious three Months space; and thou with whom I left the weighty +Charge of her dear Heart, to watch her lovely Eyes, to give me notice +when my Rivals press’d, and when she waver’d in her Faith to me, even +thou wert silent to me, cruel Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Thou wilt be like a Lover presently, and tire the Hearer with a Book of +Words, of heavy Sighs, dying Languishments, and all that huddle of +Nonsense; and not tell me how you like my Marriage.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Welborn’s</i> my Friend, and worthy of thy Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I never saw him yet; and to be sold unseen, and unsigh’d for, in the +Flower of my Youth and Beauty, gives me a strange aversion to the +Match.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Oh! you’ll like him when you see him—But my +<i>Mirtilla</i>.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Like him—no, no, I never shall—what, come a Stranger to my +Husband’s Bed? ’Tis Prostitution in the leudest manner, without the +Satisfaction; the Pleasure of Variety, and the Bait of Profit, may make +a lame excuse for Whores, who change their Cullies, and quit their +nauseous Fools—No, no, my Brother, when Parents grow arbitrary, +’tis time we look into our Rights and Privileges; therefore, my dear +<i>George</i>, if e’er thou hope for Happiness in Love, assist my +Disobedience.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +In any worthy Choice be sure of me; but canst thou wish Happiness in +Love, and not inform me something of <i>Mirtilla</i>?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">324</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I’ll tell you better News—our hopeful elder Brother, Sir +<i>Merlin</i>, is like to be disinherited; for he is, Heaven be +thanked—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Marry’d to some Town-Jilt, the common fate of Coxcombs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Not so, my dear <i>George</i>, but sets up for a celebrated Rake-hell, +as well as Gamester; he cou’d not have found out a more dextrous way to +have made thee Heir to four Thousand Pounds a Year.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What’s that without <i>Mirtilla</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Prithee no more of her—Love spoils a fine Gentleman: Gaming, +Whoring and Fighting may qualify a Man for Conversation; but Love +perverts all one’s Thoughts, and makes us fit Company for none but one’s +self; for even a Mistress can scarce dispense with a <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘fighing’">fighting</ins>, whining +Lover’s Company long, though all he says flatters her Pride.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Why dost thou trifle with me, when thou knowest the Violence of my +Love?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I wish I could any way divert your Thoughts from her, I would not +have your Joy depend on such a fickle Creature.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Mirtilla</i> false! What, my <i>Mirtilla</i> false!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Even your <i>Mirtilla’s</i> false, and married to another.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Married! <i>Mirtilla</i> married! ’Tis impossible.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Nay, married to that bawling, drinking Fool, Sir <i>Morgan +Blunder</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Married, and married to Sir <i>Morgan Blunder</i>! a Sot, an +ill-bred senseless Fool; almost too great a Fool to make a Country +Justice?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +No doubt, she had her Aims in’t, he’s a very convenient Husband, I’ll +assure you, and that suits her Temper: he has Estate and Folly enough, +and she has Youth and Wantonness enough to match ’em.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Her Choice gives me some Comfort, and some Hopes; for I’ll pursue her, +but for Revenge, not Love.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">325</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Forget her rather, for she’s not worth Revenge, and that way ’twill be +none; prostitute in Soul as Body, she doats even on me in Breeches.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +On thee, her Page? doat on thee, a Youth! she knew thee not as +Woman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +No, that Secret I have kept to do you Service.—At first she said +she lov’d me for your sake, because you recommended me; and when I sung, +or plaid upon my Flute, wou’d kiss my Cheek, and sigh, and often (when +alone) wou’d send for me, and smile, and talk, and set my Hair in Curls, +to make me saucy and familiar with her. One Day she said, +<i>Endimion</i>, thy Name-sake was thus caress’d by <i>Cynthia</i>: +A Goddess did not scorn the humble Swain, whom by her Love she +equal’d to her Deity. She found that I had Sense to understand her, and +paid her Advances back with equal Ardour.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Oh, Curse! where learnt she all this Wickedness? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +But she being oblig’d to go for <i>Flanders</i>, to see her Sister take +the holy Habit, I feign’d a Sickness to be left behind, hoping that +Absence might abate her Flame; yet she return’d more amorous, and +fearing the Thefts of Love might wound her Honour, she thought a Husband +would secure that Shame; and luckily my Aunt arriv’d from <i>Wales</i>, +and brought Sir <i>Morgan</i> with her, who lodging where we did, at +Mrs. <i>Manage’s</i>, my Aunt (that doats on Quality in either Sex) made +up this hasty Match, unknown to me, though for my sake.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What will not faithless Woman do, when she is raging?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +And now having so well prepar’d the way, she grows impatient for an +Opportunity; and thou art arriv’d, most happily to succour me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, for some days keep this habit on, it may be useful to us; but I must +see this faithless perjur’d Woman, which I must contrive with Mrs. +<i>Manage</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">326</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Yet pray resolve to see my Father first; for now’s the critical time to +make thy Fortune: he came to Town last night, and lodges here at Mrs. +<i>Manage’s</i>, with my Aunt <i>Blunder</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What, in the House with thee, and not know thee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +No more than a Priest Compassion; he thinks me at <i>Hackney</i>, +<a class="comm" name="brother_commtag4" id="brother_commtag4" href="#brother_commnote4">making Wax Babies</a>, where he intends to visit me +within these three days,—But I forgot to tell you, our Brother, +Sir <i>Merlin</i>, lodges in this House with you; and shou’d he know +you—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Tis impossible—I’ve not see him, or my Father, these five Years. +Absence, my Growth, and this unexpected Equipage, will not be penetrated +by his Capacity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +True, he’ll never look for his Brother <i>George</i>, in the Gallantry +and Person of Monsieur <i>Lejere</i>—My good Father expects you +home, like the prodigal Son, all torn and tatter’d, and as penitent +too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +To plod on here, in a laborious Cheating, all my Youth and Vigour, in +hopes of drunken Pleasures when I’m old; or else go with him into +<i>Wales</i>, and there lead a thoughtless Life, hunt, and drink, and +make love to none but Chamber-maids. No, my <i>Olivia</i>, I’ll use the +sprightly Runnings of my Life, and not hope distant Pleasures from its +Dregs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +For that, use your Discretion; now equip your self to your present +Business; the more simply you are clad and look, the better. I’ll home +and expect you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Do so, my good Sister; a little formal Hypocrisy may do, ’twill relish +after Liberty; for a Pleasure is never so well tasted, as when it’s +season’d with some Opposition.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Britton</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Britt.</span> +Sir, I’ve News to tell you, will surprize you; Prince <i>Frederick</i> +is arriv’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Is’t possible? I left him going for <i>Flanders</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">327</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Britt.</span> +Passing by our Door, and seeing your Livery, <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag6" id="brother_texttag6" href="#brother_textnote6">he</a> enquir’d for you; and finding you here, +alighted just now. But see, Sir, he’s here.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Prince <em>Frederick</em>; they meet and embrace.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +My Life’s Preserver, welcome to my Arms as Health to sick Men.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag7" +id="brother_texttag7" href="#brother_textnote7">Prince.</a></span> +And thou to mine as the kind Mistress to the longing Lover; my Soul’s +Delight, and Darling of the Fair.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ah Prince! you touch my bleeding Wound.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><a class="notes" href="#brother_textnote7">Prince.</a></span> +Ha, <i>Lejere</i>! leave to unhappy Lovers those Sighs, those folded +Arms, and down-cast Eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Then they are fit for me; my Mistress, Sir, that Treasure of my Life, +for whom you’ve heard me sigh, is perjur’d, false, and married to +another. Yet what is worse, I find my Prince, my Friend, here in my +native Country, and am not able to pay him what his Greatness +merits.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><a class="notes" href="#brother_textnote7">Prince.</a></span> +You pain me when you compliment my Friendship. +<span class="stagedir"> +Embracing.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Perhaps you will not think me worth this Honour, when you shall hear my +Story.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Thou canst say nothing I can value less.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Perhaps too my way of Living has deceiv’d you, being still receiv’d by +Princes, as Companions in all their Riots, Loves, and Divertisements; +where ev’n you did me the Honour to esteem, and call me Friend.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Whate’er thou art, I’m sure thy Mind’s illustrious.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +My Family, I must confess, is honourable; but, Sir, my Father was the +younger House, of which my unhappy self was destin’d to be last: I’m a +<i>Cadet</i>, that Out-cast of my Family, and born to that curse of our +old <i>English</i> Custom. Whereas in other Countries, younger Brothers +are train’d up to the Exercise of Arms, where +<span class="pagenum">328</span> +Honour and Renown attend the Brave; we basely bind our youngest out to +Slavery, to lazy Trades, idly confin’d to Shops or Merchants Books, +debasing of the Spirit to the mean Cunning, how to cheat and +chaffer.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +A Custom insupportable!—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +To this, to this low wretchedness of Life, your Servant, Sir—was +destin’d by his Parents, and am yet this bound indentur’d Slave.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Thou hast no cause to quarrel with thy Stars, since Virtue is most +valu’d when opprest—Are all your Merchants Apprentices thus +gay?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Not all—but, Sir, I could not bow my Mind to this so necessary +Drudgery; and yet however, I assum’d my native Temper, when out +o’th’ Trading City; in it, I forc’d my Nature to a dull slovenly +Gravity, which well enough deceiv’d the busy Block-heads; my Clothes and +Equipage I lodg’d at this End of the Town, where I still pass’d for +something better than I was, whene’er I pleas’d to change the Trader for +the Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +And liv’d thus undiscover’d—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +With Ease, still lov’d and courted by the Great, ever play’d high with +those durst venture most; and durst make Love where’er my Fancy lik’d: +but sometimes running out my Master’s Cash, (which was supply’d still by +my Father) they sent me, to reform my expensive Life, a Factor, +into <i>France</i>—still I essay’d to be a plodding Thriver, but +found my Parts not form’d for dirty Business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +There’s not a Thought, an Action of thy Soul, that does not tend to +something far more glorious.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +If yet you think me worthy of your Favour, command that Life you have so +oft preserv’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No more;—Thou hast increas’d my Value for thee.—Oh! take my +Heart, and see how’t has been us’d by a fair Charmer, since I saw thee +last—That sullen day we parted, you for <i>England</i>, you may +remember I design’d for <i>Flanders</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">329</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I do, with Melancholy, Sir, remember it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Arriv’d at <i>Ghent</i>, I went to see an <i>English</i> Nun +initiated, where I beheld the pretty Innocent, deliver’d up a Victim to +foolish Chastity; but among the Relations, then attending the Sacrifice, +was a fair Sister of the young Votress, but so surpassing all I’ad seen +before, that I neglecting the dull holy Business, paid my Devotion to +that kneeling Saint.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +That was the nearest way to Heaven, my Lord.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Her Face, that had a thousand Charms of Youth, was heighten’d with an +Air of Languishment; a lovely Sorrow dwelt upon her Eyes, that +taught my new-born-Passion Awe and Reverence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +This Description of her fires me.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Her dimpl’d Mouth, her Neck, her Hand, her Hair, a Majesty and +Grace in every Motion, compleated my Undoing; I rav’d, +I burnt, I languish’d with Desire, the holy Place cou’d scarce +contain my Madness: with Pain, with Torture, I restrain’d my +Passion when she retir’d, led sadly from the Altar. I, mixing with the +Croud, enquir’d her Name and Country; her Servant told me, that she was +of Quality, and liv’d in <i>England</i>, nay, in this very Town: this +gave me Anguish not to be conceiv’d, till I resolv’d to follow her, +which is the cause you find me here so soon. Thy Aid, thy Aid, +<i>Lejere</i>, or I am lost.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I wish to live no longer than to serve your Highness: if she be, Sir, +a Maid of Quality, I shall soon find her out, and then you’ll +easily conquer. You’ve all the Youth, and Beauty, that can charm; and +what gains most upon a Woman’s Heart, you’ve a powerful Title, Sir,<a +class="notes" name="brother_texttag8" id="brother_texttag8" href="#brother_textnote8"> a </a>sort of Philter, that ne’er fails to +win. But you’ve not told me yet the Lady’s Name.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I had forgot that;—’Tis in these <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag9" id="brother_texttag9" href="#brother_textnote9">Tablets written</a>: +<span class="stagedir continue">Gives him the Tablets.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +I’m now in haste, going to receive some Bills: I lodge +<span class="pagenum">330</span> +at <i>Welborn’s</i>, who came over with me, being sent for to be +marry’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I know the House, ’tis in <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag5" id="brother_commtag5" href="#brother_commnote5"><i>Southampton-Square</i></a>: I’ll wait upon your +Highness— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Exit <em>Prince</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Let me see—Daughter to a deceas’d Lord; a Maid, and no Dowry, +but Beauty; living in <i>Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields</i>. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Opening the Tablets, reads.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Ha!—her Name <i>Mirtilla! Mirtilla</i>! +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Pauses.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Prince, thou hast paid thyself for all the Favours done me. +<i>Mirtilla!</i> +<span class="stagedir continue">Pauses.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Why, yes, <i>Mirtilla</i>! He takes but what she has given away +already.—</p> +<p class="continue"> +Oh! damn her, she has broke her Faith, her Vows, and is no longer +mine—And thou’rt my Friend. +<span class="stagedir continue">Pauses again.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +<i>Mirtilla’s</i> but my Mistress, and has taken all the Repose of my +poor Life away—Yes, let him take her, I’ll resign her to him; and +therefore shut my Eyes against her Charms: fix her Inconstancy about my +Heart, and scorn whatever she can give me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actI_sceneII" id="brother_actI_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +A Chamber.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Morgan Blunder</em> in a Night-Gown and Cap; to him +<em>Manage</em> with a <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag10" id="brother_texttag10" href="#brother_textnote10">Caudle</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Your Lady Mother has sent you a <a class="notes" href="#brother_textnote10">Caudle</a>, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Good Mrs. <i>Manage</i>, remember my kind Love to my Lady Mother, and +tell her, I thank her for her Posset, but never eat in a Morning +after hard drinking over night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Ah, Sir, but now you’re marry’d to a fine Lady, you ought to make much +of your self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Good Madam, as little of your Matrimony as of your Caudle; my Stomach is +plaguy squeamish, and a hair of the old Dog’s worth both of ’em. Oh! +sick! sick!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">331</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Merlin</em>, singing a Song in praise of a Rake-hell’s +Life.</p> + +<h5>A SONG.<br> +The <i>Town-Rake</i>; written by <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag6" id="brother_commtag6" href="#brother_commnote6">Mr. <i>Motteux</i></a>.</h5> + +<h5>I.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>What Life can compare with the jolly Town-Rake’s,</p> +<p>When in Youth his full Swing of all Pleasure he takes?</p> +<p>At Noon, he gets up, for a Whet, and to dine,</p> +<p>And wings the dull Hours with Mirth, Musick and Wine;</p> +<p>Then jogs to the <em>Play-house</em>, and chats with the Masks,</p> +<p>And thence to <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag7" id="brother_commtag7" href="#brother_commnote7">the <em>Rose</em></a>, +where he takes his three Flasks.</p> +<p>There, great as a <em>Cæsar</em>, he revels, when drunk,</p> +<p>And <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag8" id="brother_commtag8" href="#brother_commnote8">scours</a> all he meets, +as he reels to his Punk;</p> +<p>Then finds the dear Girl in his Arms when he wakes.</p> +<p>What Life can compare with the Jolly Town-Rake’s?</p> +</div> + +<h5>II.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>He, like the <em>Great Turk</em>, has his Favourite She;</p> +<p>But the Town’s his <em>Seraglio</em>, and still he lives free.</p> +<p>Sometimes she’s a Lady; but as he must range,</p> +<p><em>Black-Betty</em>, or <em>Oyster-Doll</em>, serves for a +Change.</p> +<p>As he varies his Sports, his whole Life is a Feast;</p> +<p>He thinks him that’s soberest the most like a Beast.</p> +<p>At Houses of Pleasure breaks Windows and Doors;</p> +<p>Kicks Bullies and Cullies, then lies with their Whores.</p> +<p>Rare work for the Surgeon, and Midwife he makes.</p> +<p>What Life can compare with the Jolly Town-Rake’s?</p> +</div> + +<h5>III.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Thus in <em>Covent-Garden</em> he makes his Campaign,</p> +<p>And no Coffee-house haunts, but to settle his Brain.</p> +<p>He laughs at dry Morals, and never does think,</p> +<p>Unless ’tis to get the best Wenches and Drink.</p> +<p>He dwells in a Tavern, and lies ev’ry where,</p> +<p>And improving his hours, lives an Age in a Tear:</p> +<span class="pagenum">332</span> +<p>For as Life is uncertain, he loves to make haste;</p> +<p>And thus he lives longest, because he lives fast:</p> +<p>Then a Leap in the dark to the Devil he takes.</p> +<p>What Death can compare with the Jolly Town-Rake’s?</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Why, how now, Sir <i>Morgan</i>, I see you’ll make a Husband of the +right Town-Mode: What, married but four Days, and at your separate +Apartment already?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +A Plague of your what d’ye call ums.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Rakehells you would say, Cousin, an honourable Appellation for Men of +Bravery.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Ay, ay, your Rakehells—I was never so muddled with Treason, +Tierce Claret, Oaths and Dice, all the Days of my Life—Was I in +case to do Family duty? S’life, you drank down all my Love, all my +Prudence too; Gad forgive me for it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Why, how the Devil cam’st thou to bear thy Liquor so ill? Ods my Life, +you drunk like a <i>Frenchman</i> new come to the University.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Pox, I can bear their drinking as well as any Man; but your +<i>London</i> way of Bousing and Politics does not agree with my +Constitution. Look ye, Cousin, <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag11" id="brother_texttag11" href="#brother_textnote11">set quietly to’t, and I’ll stand my ground; but to +have screaming Whores, noisy</a> Bullies, rattling Dice, swearing and +cursing Gamesters, Couz. turns the Head of a Country-Drinker, more than +the Wine.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Oh! Use, Cousin, will make an able Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Use, Cousin! Use me no Uses; for if ever you catch me at your damn’d +Clubs again, I’ll give you my Mother for a Maid: Why, you talk downright +Treason.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Treason, ay—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Ah Cousin, why, we talk’d enough to—hang us all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +My honest Country-Couz. when wilt thou understand the <i>Guelphs</i>, +and the <i>Gibelins</i>, and learn to +<span class="pagenum">333</span> +talk Treason o’ this side the Law? bilk a Whore without remorse; break +Windows, and not pay for ’em; drink your Bottle without asking +Questions; kill your Man without letting him draw; play away your Money +without fear of your Spouse, and stop her Mouth by undermining her +Nose?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Come, come, look you, Cousin, one word of Advice now I’m sober; what the +Devil should provoke thee and me to put ourselves on our twelve +Godfathers for a Frolick? We who have Estates. I shou’d be loth to +leave the World with a scurvy Song, composed by <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag9" id="brother_commtag9" href="#brother_commnote9">the Poet <i>Sternhold</i></a>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter at the Door Sir <em>Rowland</em>, hearkning.</p> + +<p>Or why, d’ye see, shou’d I expose my Noddle to the <a class="comm" +name="brother_commtag10" id="brother_commtag10" href="#brother_commnote10">Billmen in Flannel</a>, and lie in the +<i>Roundhouse</i>, when I may go to bed in a whole skin with my Lady +Wife?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Gad, Sir <i>Morgan</i>, thou hast sometimes pretty smart satirical +Touches with thee; use but <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag11" +id="brother_commtag11" href="#brother_commnote11"><i>Will’s</i> +Coffee-house</a> a little, and with thy Estate, and that Talent, thou +mayst set up for a Wit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Mercy upon me, Sir <i>Merlin</i>, thou art stark mad: What, I a +Wit! I had rather be one of your Rakehells: for, look ye, +a Man may swear and stare, or so; break Windows, and Drawers Heads, +or so; unrig a needy Whore, and yet keep one’s Estate: but should I turn +Wit, ’twere impossible; for a Wit with an Estate is like a Prisoner +among the Cannibals.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +How so, good Sir <i>Morgan</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Why, the needy Rogues only feed him with Praise, to fatten him for their +Palates, and then devour him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +I applaud your choice, Cousin; for what Man of Bravery wou’d not prefer +a Rake to a Wit? The one enjoys the Pleasures the other can only rail +at; and that not out of Conscience, but Impotence: for alas! a Wit +has no quarrel to Vice in Perfection, but what the +<span class="pagenum">334</span> +Fox had to the Grapes; he can’t play away his hundred Pound at sight; +<a class="comm" name="brother_commtag12" id="brother_commtag12" href="#brother_commnote12">his Third Day</a> won’t afford it; and therefore +he rails at Gamesters; Whores shun him, as much as Noblemen, and for the +same cause, Money; those care not to sell their Carcases for a Sonnet, +nor these to scatter their Guineas, to be told an old Tale of a Tub, +they were so well acquainted with before.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +What’s that, Sir <i>Merlin</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Why, their Praise;—for the Poet’s Flattery seldom reaches the +Patron’s Vanity; and what’s too strong season’d for the rest of the +World, is too weak for their Palates.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Why, look ye, Cousin, you’re a shreud Fellow: Whence learn’d you this +Satire? for I’m sure ’tis none of thy own; for I shou’d as soon suspect +thee guilty of good Nature, as Wit.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +I scorn it; and therefore I confess I stole the Observation from a Poet; +but the Devil pick his Bones for diverting me from the noble Theme of +Rakehells.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Noble Theme, Sir <i>Merlin</i>! look ye, d’ye see: Don’t mistake me, +I think ’tis a very scurvy one; and I wou’d not have your Father +know that you set up for such a Reprobate; for Sir <i>Rowland</i> would +certainly disinherit thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +O, keep your musty Morals to your self, good Country Couz; they’ll do +you service to your <i>Welch</i> Criminals, for stealing an Hen, or +breaking up a Wenches Inclosure, or so, Sir <i>Morgan</i>; but for me, +I despise ’em: I have not been admitted into the Family of the +<i>Rakehellorums</i> for this, Sir: Let my Father drink old <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag13" id="brother_commtag13" href="#brother_commnote13"><i>Adam</i></a>, read the <i>Pilgrim’s +Progress</i>, <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag14" id="brother_commtag14" href="#brother_commnote14"><i>The Country +Justice’s Calling</i></a>, or for a Regale, drink the dull Manufacture +of Malt and Water; I defy him; he can’t cut off the Entail of what +is settled on me: and for the rest, I’l trust Dame <i>Fortune</i>; and +pray to the Three Fatal Sisters to cut his rotten Thred in two, before +he thinks of any such Wickedness.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">335</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Rowland</em> in a great Rage.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Will you so, Sir? Why, how now, Sirrah! get you out of my House, Rogue; +get out of my Doors, Rascal. +<span class="stagedir"> +Beats him.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Blunder</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Upon my Honour now, Brother, what’s the matter? Whence this ungenerous +Disturbance?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What’s the matter! the disturbance! Why, Sister, this Rogue +here—this unintelligible graceless Rascal here, will needs set up +for a Rakehell, when there’s scarce such a thing in the Nation, above an +Ale-draper’s Son; and chuses to be aukardly out of fashion, merely for +the sake of Tricking and Poverty; and keeps company with the senseless, +profane, lazy, idle, noisy, groveling Rascals, purely for the sake of +spending his Estate like a notorious Blockhead: But I’ll take care he +shall not have what I can dispose of—You’ll be a Rake-hell, will +you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +How, Cousin! Sure you’ll not be such a filthy beastly thing, will +you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Lord, Aunt, I only go to the Club sometimes, to improve my self in the +Art of Living, and the Accomplishments of a fine Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +A fine Gentleman, Sot, a fine Coxcomb! +<span class="stagedir"> +Beats him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Hold, hold, good Uncle; my Cousin has been only drawn in, a little +or so, d’ye see, being Heir to a good Estate; and that’s what his Club +wants, to pay off old Tavern Scores, and buy Utensils for Whores in +Fashion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +My Estate sold to pay Tavern-Scores, and keep nasty Whores!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Whores! ay, filthy Creatures; do they deal in Whores? Pray, Cousin, +what’s a Rake-hell?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +A Rake-hell is a Man that defies Law and good Manners, nay, and good +Sense too; hates both +<span class="pagenum">336</span> +Morality and Religion, and that not for any Reason (for he never thinks) +but merely because he don’t understand ’em: He’s the Whore’s Protection +and Punishment, the Baud’s Tool, the Sharper’s Bubble, the Vintner’s +Property, the Drawer’s Terror, the Glasier’s Benefactor; in short, +a roaring, thoughtless, heedless, ridiculous, universal +Coxcomb.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +O Lord, Aunt, no more like him than an Attorney’s like an honest Man. +Why, a Rake-hell is—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What, Sirrah! what, you Rebel? +<span class="stagedir"> +Strikes him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Nay, good Brother, permit my Nephew to tell us his Notion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Why, Aunt, I say a Rake-hell is your only Man of Bravery; he slights all +the Force of Fortune, and sticks at no Hazard—plays away his +hundred Pounds at sight, pays a Lady’s Bill at sight, drinks his Bottle +without equivocation, and fights his Man without any Provocation.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Nay then, Mr. Rogue, I’ll be sworn thou art none: Come, Sir, will you +fight, Sir? will you fight, Sir? Ha! +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws his Sword.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Fight, Sir! fight, Sir!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Yes, fight, Sir: Come, spare your Prayers to the three Fatal Sisters, +and cut my Thred thy self, thou graceless reprobate Rascal—Come, +come on, you Man of Bravery.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Runs at Sir <em>Merlin</em>, who retires before him: Sir <em>Morgan</em> +holds Sir <em>Rowland</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Oh, good Sir, hold: I recant, Sir, I recant.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +<span class="aside">Putting up.</span> +Well, I’m satisfy’d thou’lt make no good Rake-hell in this Point, +whatever you will in the others. And since Nature has made thee a +Coward, Inclination a Coxcomb, I’ll take care to make thee a Beggar; and +so thou shalt be a Rake-hell but in Will, I’ll disinherit thee, +I will, Villain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +What, disinherit your eldest Son, Brother?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">337</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ay, Aunt, his very Heir apparent? Aunt, to show you how the old +Gentleman has misrepresented us, give me leave to present you a Dance I +provided to entertain your Son with, in which is represented all the +Beauties of our Lives.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Oh! by all means, Cousin, by all means.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag12" +id="brother_texttag12" href="#brother_textnote12">Sir +Mer.</a></span> +What hoa! <i>Roger</i>, bring in the Dancers.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Here the Dance, representing Rake-hells, Constable, Watch, &c.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Philip</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Phil.</span> +Sir, who do’s your Worship think is arriv’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +My Son <i>George</i>, I hope, come in the Nick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Phil.</span> +Even so, Sir, from <i>Paris</i>— +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +The Prodigal return’d! then kill the fatted Calf.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em> drest like a Prentice.</p> + +<p>—My own dear Boy, thou art welcome to my Arms, as e’er thy +Mother was; for whose dear sake I pardon all thy Follies. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag13" id="brother_texttag13" +href="#brother_textnote13"><em>George</em> Kneels.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag14" id="brother_texttag14" +href="#brother_textnote14">Ay, Sir</a>, I had a Mother too, or I’m +bely’d— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Weeping.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Pox take him that he should come just in the nick, as the old Fellow +says— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Yes, you had a Mother, whom in my Youth I was compel’d to marry; and, +Gad, I think, I got thee with as ill a Will; but <i>George</i> +and my <i>Olivia</i> in heat of Love, when my desire was new. But +harkye, Boy <i>George</i>, you have cost me a damn’d deal of Money, +Sirrah; but you shall marry, and redeem all, <i>George</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What you please, Sir; to study Virtue, Duty and Allegiance, shall be my +future Business.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Well said, <i>George</i>, here’s a Boy now.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Virtue and Allegiance! Lord, Lord, how came so sneaking a fellow to +spend five thousand Pounds of his Master’s Cash?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">338</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +She’s rich, <i>George</i>, but something homely.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +She’ll not be proud then, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Not much of her Beauty—she’s of a good staid Age too, about some +fourscore.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Better still, Sir, I shall not fear Cuckoldom.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +For that I cannot answer; but she has two thousand a year. I mean +to settle my Family, and then—marry my self, <i>George</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +What, to this old Lady’s Grand-daughter? Methinks she’s more fit for +your Son, <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag15" id="brother_texttag15" href="#brother_textnote15">Sir <i>Rowland</i></a>, +and the old Lady for you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +No, no, the young Rogues can help themselves with Mistresses; but ’tis +well if an old Man can keep his Wife to himself—I’ve invited ’em +to Dinner to day, and see, they are come.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Youthly</em>, led by her <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag16" id="brother_texttag16" href="#brother_textnote16">Chaplain <em>[</em>Mr. <em>Twang]</em>, and +leaning</a> on a Staff, and <em>Teresia</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Where’s Sir <i>Rowland Marteen</i>? Oh, your Servant, Sir, I am +come. +<span class="stagedir"> +Runs against <em>George</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker"><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag16a" id="brother_texttag16a" href="#brother_textnote16">Twang.</a></span> +Your Ladyship is mistaken, this is not Sir <i>Rowland</i>, but a +handsome proper young Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +A young Man! I cry your mercy heartily—Young Man, I alighted +in the Sun, and am almost blind.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +With wondrous old Age. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Good lack, Sir <i>Rowland</i>, that I should mistake a young Man so!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Ay, Madam, and such a young Man too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Ay, ay, I see him now. +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts on her Spectacles.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +S’death, what a Sepulcher is here to bury a Husband in? How came she to +escape the Flood? for sure she was not born since. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +This is the lusty Lad, my Son <i>George</i>, I told your Ladyship +of.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Cot so, cot so, is it so, Sir? I ask your Pardon, +<span class="pagenum">339</span> +Sir. Mr. <i>Twang</i>, take a survey of him, and give me your Opinion of +his Person and his Parts.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Twang.</span> +Truly, Madam, the young Man is of a comely Personage and Lineaments.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Of what, Sir?—Lord, I have such a Cold. +<span class="stagedir"> +Coughs.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Which she got when the <i>Picts</i> went naked.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Madam, you have a Power over Sir <i>Rowland</i>; pray intreat him to +take his Son, Sir <i>Merlin</i>, into Grace again. +<span class="stagedir"> +To <em>Teresia</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +That, Sir, you must grant me; pray let me know the Quarrel. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Rowland</em> seems to tell.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +By Heaven, she’s fair as the first ruddy Streaks of opening Day. +<span class="stagedir"> +Looking on <em>Teresia</em>.</span></p> +<p>Young as the budding Rose, soft as a <i>Cupid</i>, but never felt his +Dart, she is so full of Life and Gaiety. Pray, Madam, who is that Lady? +<span class="stagedir"> +To Lady <em>Blun.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +The Grandchild of your Mistress, and your Mother that must be.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Then I shall <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag17" id="brother_texttag17" href="#brother_textnote17">cuckold</a> my Father, +that’s certain. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +For your sake, Madam, once again I re-establish him in my family; but +the first Fault cashiers him—Come, let’s in—Here, my Lady +<i>Youthly</i>, take <i>George</i> by the hand; but have a care of the +young Rogue, if he comes once to touch so brisk a Widow, he sets her +Heart on fire.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Which will burn like a snuff of a Candle; no body will be able to endure +it. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—So Fortune, I see, provides for me:</p> +<div class="verse"> +<p>On this hand Wealth, on that young Pleasures lie;</p> +<p>He ne’er wants these, who has that kind Supply.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + +<h5><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag18" id="brother_texttag18" href="#brother_textnote18">The End of the First +Act.</a></h5> + + + + +<span class="pagenum">340</span> +<h3 class="act"><a name="brother_actII" id="brother_actII"> +ACT II.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actII_sceneI" id="brother_actII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag19" id="brother_texttag19" +href="#brother_textnote19">Sir <em>Rowland’s</em> Lodging.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Rowland</em>, <em>Teresia</em>, and Lady <em>Youthly</em>, +&c.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Well, Sir <i>Rowland</i>, if I should be inclin’d to cast away my self +on your Son <i>George</i>, what wou’d you settle?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Settle! not a Souse, Madam; he carries the best younger Brother’s +Fortune in <i>Christendom</i> about him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Why, the young Man’s deserving, I confess. But he’s your Son, Sir +<i>Rowland</i>, and something ought to be settled upon the Heirs of our +Bodies, lawfully begotten.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +All <i>Hercules</i> his Labours were a Jig to his that shall beget ’em. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +If you like him upon these terms, to make him Master of your +Fortune—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +For that, let him trust to me, and his own deservings.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +No trusting in these fickle Times, Madam—Why, I’ll let the young +sturdy Rogue out to hire; he’ll make a pretty Livelihood at +Journey-Work; and shall a Master-Workman, a Husband, deserve +nothing?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Ay, these Husbands that know their own Strength, as they say, set so +high a value on their conjugal Virtues. And if he be disloyal, again +o’t’other side he gives a Wife so ill an Example—for we are all +liable to Temptations.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Well said; if thou beest so, it must be the old Tempter himself. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag20" id="brother_texttag20" +href="#brother_textnote20">Look ye</a>, Madam, I’ll propose a fair +Swap; if you’ll consent that I shall marry <i>Teresia</i>, I’ll consent +that you shall marry <i>George</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +How, my Grand-daughter? Why, I design’d her for your eldest Son, +Sir <i>Merlin</i>; and she has a good Fortune of five hundred a year +that I cannot hinder her of; and is too young for you.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">341</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +So is <i>George</i> for your Ladyship; and as for his Fortune, ’tis more +than likely I shall make him my eldest Son.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Say you so, Sir, well, I’ll consider, and take Advice of my Friends.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Consider! alas, Madam, my House will be besieged by all the Widows in +Town; I shall get more by shewing him, than the <i>Rhinoceros</i>. +Gad, I’ll sell the young Rogue <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag15" id="brother_commtag15" href="#brother_commnote15">by Inch of Candle</a>, before he’s debauch’d and +spoil’d in this leud Town.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Well, suppose—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Nothing under <i>Teresia</i>—Gad, I think some old Dog-Star +reigns to Day, that so many old <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag21" id="brother_texttag21" href="#brother_textnote21">Hearts</a> are burning in their Sockets—I’m +in love with this young Tittymouse here, most damnably—Well, what +say you, Widow? Speak now, or you know the Proverb.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Well, Sir <i>Rowland</i>, you are too hard for me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Ex. all but <em>Teresia</em>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em>, runs to her and embraces her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +’Tis as you said, <i>Olivia</i>, I am destin’d to your Father.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +What, the Sentence is past then?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Ay, but the Devil is in us, if we stay till Execution Day: Why, this is +worse than being mew’d up at <i>Hackney-School</i>—my Fortune’s my +own, without my Grandmother, and with that Stock I’ll set up for my +self, and see what Traffick this wide World affords a young +beginner.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +That’s well resolv’d; I am of the same mind, rather than marry Mr. +<i>Welborn</i>, whom I never saw.—But prithee let’s see what we +have in Stock, besides ready Money—What Toys and Knick-nacks to +invite.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Faith, my Inventory is but small—Let me see—First, one +pretty well made Machine, call’d a Body, of a very good Motion, fit for +several uses—one pretty conceited +<span class="pagenum">342</span> +Head-Piece, that will fit any body’s Coxcomb,—when ’tis grave and +dull, ’twill fit an Alderman; when politick and busy, a Statesman; +turn it to Intrigue, <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag22" id="brother_texttag22" href="#brother_textnote22">’twill</a> fit a City +Wife; and to Invention, it will set up an Evidence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Very well!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +<i>Item</i>, One Tongue, that will prattle Love, if you put the Heart in +time (for they are Commodities I resolve shall go together) I have +Youth enough to please a Lover, and Wit enough to please my self.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Most excellent Trifles all! As for my out-side, I leave to the +Discretion of the Chafferer; but I have a rare Device, call’d an +Invention, that can do many Feats; a Courage that wou’d stock a +Coward; and a pretty Implement, call’d a Heart, that will strike fire +with any convenient force: I have eight thousand Pounds to let out +on any able Security, but not a Groat unless I like the Man.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Thus furnish’d, we shall ruin all the <i>Jews</i>, and undo the <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag23" id="brother_texttag23" href="#brother_textnote23"><i>India</i></a> Houses—But where shall we +show? where meet with the Love-Merchants?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +What think you of the Gallery at the Play in Masks?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Shu, a State-Trick, first taken up by Women of Quality, and now run into +Ridicule, by all the little common Devils of the Town; and is only a +Trap for a <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag16" id="brother_commtag16" href="#brother_commnote16">Termer</a>, +a small new rais’d Officer, or a City Cully, where they baul out +their eighteen Pence in Baudy, and filthy Nonsense, to the disturbance +of the whole House, and the King’s Peace: the Men of Quality have +forsaken it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +What think you of the <i>Mall</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +As too publick to end an Intrigue; our Affairs require a Conquest as +sudden as that of <i>Cæsar</i>, who came, saw and overcame.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +’Tis true, besides there’s so many Cruisers, we shall never board a +Prize. What think you of the Church?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +An hypocritical Shift; of all Masks I hate that +<span class="pagenum">343</span> +of Religion; and it shou’d be the last place I’d wish to meet a Lover +in, unless to marry him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +And, Faith, that’s the last thing a Lover shou’d do, but we are +compell’d to haste, ’tis our last Refuge; if we cou’d but see and like +our Men, the business were soon dispatcht.—Let me see—Faith, +e’en put on Breeches too, and thus disguis’d seek our +Fortune—I am within these three days to be fetch’d from +<i>Hackney School</i>, where my Father believes me still to be, and thou +in that time to be marry’d to the old Gentleman; Faith, +resolve—and let’s in and dress thee—away, here’s my +Lady—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +They run out.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actII_sceneII" id="brother_actII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag24" id="brother_texttag24" +href="#brother_textnote24">A Chamber.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Mirtilla</em> and Mrs. <em>Manage</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Ah, let me have that Song again.</p> + +<h5>A Song by Mr. <i>Gildon</i>.<br> +I.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>No, <em>Delia</em>, no: What Man can range</p> +<p>From such Seraphic Pleasure?</p> +<p>’Tis want of Charms that make us change,</p> +<p>To grasp the Fury, Treasure.</p> +<p>What Man of Sense wou’d quit a certain Bliss,</p> +<p>For Hopes and empty Possibilities?</p> +</div> + +<h5>II.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Vain Fools! that sure Possessions spend,</p> +<p>In hopes of Chymic Treasure,</p> +<p>But for their fancy’d Riches find</p> +<p>Both want of Gold and Pleasure.</p> +<p>Rich in my Delia, I can wish no more;</p> +<p>The Wanderer, like the Chymist, must be poor.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Not see him, Madam—I protest he’s handsomer, and handsomer, +<i>Paris</i> has given him such an Air:—Lord, +<span class="pagenum">344</span> +he’s all over Monsieur—Not see him, Madam—Why? I hope +you do not, like the foolish sort of Wives, design a strict Obedience to +your Husband.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Away, a Husband!—when Absence, that sure Remedy of Love, had +heal’d the bleeding Wound <i>Lejere</i> had made, by Heaven, +I thought I ne’er shou’d love again—but since <i>Endymion</i> +has inspir’d my Soul, and for that Youth I burn, I pine, +I languish.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em> richly drest, stands at a distance gazing on +<em>Mirtilla</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +See, Madam, there’s an Object may put out that Flame, and may revive the +old one.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Shame and Confusion.—<i>Lejere.</i> +<span class="stagedir"> +Turns and walks away.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yonder she is, that Mien and Shape I know, though the false Face be +turn’d with shame away. +<span class="stagedir continue">Offers to advance, and +stops.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—’Sdeath,—I tremble! yet came well fortify’d with Pride +and Anger. I see thou’st in thy Eyes a little Modesty. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Goes to her nearer.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +That wou’d conceal the Treasons of thy Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Perhaps it is their Scorn that you mistake.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +It may be so; she that sets up for Jilting, shou’d go on; ’Twere mean to +find remorse, so young, and soon: Oh, this gay Town has gloriously +improv’d you amongst the rest; that taught you Perjury.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Alas! when was it sworn?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +In the blest Age of Love, When every Power look’d down, and heard thy +Vows.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +I was a Lover then; shou’d Heaven concern it self with Lovers Perjuries, +’twould find no leisure to preserve the Universe.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And was the Woman so strong in thee, thou couldst not wait a little? +Were you so raving mad for Fool and Husband, you must take up with the +next ready +<span class="pagenum">345</span> +Coxcomb. Death, and the Devil, a dull clumsey Boor!—What was +it charm’d you? The beastly quantity of Man about him?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Faith, a much better thing, five thousand Pounds a Year, his Coach and +Six, it shews well in the <i>Park</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Did I want Coach, or Equipage, and Shew?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +But still there wanted Fool, and Fortune to’t; He does not play at the +Groom-Porter’s for it; nor do the Drudgery of some worn-out Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +If I did this, thou hadst the spoils of all my Nation’s Conquests, while +all the whole World was wondering whence it came; for Heav’n had left +thee nothing but thy Beauty, that dear Reward of my industrious +Love.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +I do confess—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Till time had made me certain of a Fortune, which now was hasting +on.—</p> + +<p>And is that store of Love and wondrous Joys I had been hoarding up so +many tender Hours, all lavish’d on a Brute, who never lusted ’bove my +Lady’s Woman? for Love he understands no more than Sense.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Prithee reproach me on— +<span class="stagedir"> +Sighs.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Sdeath, I cou’d rave! Is this soft tender Bosom to be prest by such a +Load of Fool? Damnation on thee—Where got’st thou this coarse +Appetite? Take back the Powers, those Charms she’s sworn adorn’d me, +since a dull, fat-fac’d, noisy, taudry Blockhead, can serve her turn as +well. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +You shall not go away with that Opinion of me.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Oh, that false Tongue can now no more deceive—Art thou not +marry’d? Tell me that, false Charmer.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Yes.— +<span class="stagedir"> +Holding him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Curse on that word: wou’d thou hadst never learnt it—it gave thy +Heart, and my Repose away.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Dost think I marry’d with that dull design? Canst thou believe I gave my +Heart away, because I gave my Hand?—Fond Ceremony +that—A necessary trick, devis’d +<span class="pagenum">346</span> +by wary Age, to traffick ’twixt a Portion and a Jointure; him whom I +lov’d, is marry’d to my Soul.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Art thou then mine? And wilt thou make Atonement, by such a charming +way?—Come to my clasping Arms.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Blunder</em> at the Door. Sees ’em, and offers to go out +again.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Oh, Heavens! How rude am I?—Cry Mercy, Madam, I protest I +thought you’d been alone.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Sdeath! my Aunt <i>Blunder</i>! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Only this Gentleman, Madam—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Sir, I beg your Pardon—and am really sorry—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +That you find me with your Daughter, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +I hope you take me to be better bred, Sir: Nor had I interrupted you, +but for an Accident that has happen’d to Sir <i>Morgan</i>, coming out +of the City in a beastly <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag25" +id="brother_texttag25" href="#brother_textnote25">Hackney-Coach</a>, +he was turn’d over in <i>Cheap-side</i>, and striking the filthy +Coach-man, the nasty Mob came out, and had almost kill’d him, but for a +young Gentleman, a Stranger, that came to his Rescue, and whom he +has brought to kiss your Ladyship’s Hands—But I’ll instruct him in +his Duty, he shall wait till your Ladyship is more at +leisure—alas! he’s already on the Stairs. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Let him wait there—<i>Lejere</i>, ’tis necessary you depart, sure +of my Heart, you cannot fear the rest; the Night is hasting on; trust me +but some few Hours, and then, <i>Lejere</i>, I’ll pay you back with +Interest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +All Blessings light on thee. But will your Lady Mother make no Discovery +of my being here?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +She’d sooner <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag26" id="brother_texttag26" href="#brother_textnote26">pimp</a> for me, and +believe it a part of good Breeding:—away, I hear ’em coming. +<span class="stagedir"> +She puts him out at a back-Door.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Blunder</em> peeping.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +He’s gone—Sir <i>Morgan</i>, you may approach.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">347</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Morgan</em>, pulling in the <em>Prince</em>, Sir +<em>Merlin</em>, and a <em>Page</em> to the <em>Prince</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Nay, as Gat shall save me, Sir, you shall see my Lady, or so, d’ye see, +and receive the Thanks of the House.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +As Gat shall save me, Sir, I am sorry for it—another time, +Sir: I have earnest business. Now, I am sure nothing worth +seeing can belong to this litter of Fools.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +My Daughter is a Person of Quality, I assure you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I doubt it not, Madam—If she be of the same Piece—Send me a +fair Deliverance. +<span class="stagedir continue">Sir <em>Morgan</em> leads him to +<em>Mirtilla</em>, he starts.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Ha! What bright Vision’s that?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Heav’n! ’Tis the lovely Prince I saw in <i>Flanders</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Look how he stares—why, what the Devil ails he?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +To her, Sir, or so, d’ye see, what a Pox, are you afraid of her?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +He’s in Admiration of her Beauty, Child.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +By Heav’n, the very Woman I adore! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +How d’ye, see, Sir, how do ye, ha, ha, ha?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I cannot be mistaken; for Heav’n made nothing but young Angels like +her!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Look ye, Page, is your Master in his right Wits?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Sure he’s in love, and Love’s a devilish thing.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +<a class="comm" name="brother_commtag17" id="brother_commtag17" +href="#brother_commnote17">Sa</a>, ho, ho, ho, where are you, Sir, +where are you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +In Heav’n! +<span class="stagedir continue">Puts him away.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Oh! do not rouse me from this charming Slumber, lest I shou’d wake, and +find it but a Dream.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +A plaguy dull Fellow this, that can sleep in so good Company as we +are.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">348</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Dream—A Fiddle-stick; to her, Man, to her, and kiss her soundly, +or so, d’ye see.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ay, ay; kiss her, Sir, kiss her—ha, ha, ha, he’s very simple.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Kiss her,—there’s universal Ruin in her Lips.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +I never knew ’em guilty of such Mischiefs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +No, I’ll be sworn, I have kist ’em twenty times, and <a class="notes" +name="brother_texttag27" id="brother_texttag27" href="#brother_textnote27">they</a> never did me harm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Thou kiss those Lips? impossible, and false; they ne’er were prest but +by soft <i>Southern</i> Winds.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +<i>Southern</i> Winds—ha, ha, lookye, d’ye see, Boy, thy Master’s +mad, or so, d’ye see—why, what a Pox, d’ye think I never kiss my +Wife, or so, d’ye see.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Thy Wife!—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +He will betray his Passion to these Fools: Alas, he’s mad—and will +undo my Hopes. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Thou mayst as well claim Kindred to the Gods; she’s mine, a Kingdom +shall not buy her from me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Hay day, my Wife yours! look ye, as d’ye see, what, is it +<i>Midsummer-moon</i> with you, Sir, or so, d’ye see?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +In pity give him way, he’s madder than a Storm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Thou know’st thou art, and thy dear Eyes confess +it—a numerous Train attended our Nuptials, witness the +Priest, witness the sacred Altar where we kneel’d—when the blest +silent Ceremony was perform’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Alas! he’s mad, past all recovery mad.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Mad, say, poor Soul—Friend, how long has your Master been thus +intoxicated?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Page.</span> +He’s mad indeed to make this Discovery. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Alas, Sir, he’s thus as often as he sees a beautiful Lady, since he lost +a Mistress, who dy’d in <i>Flanders</i> to whom he was contracted.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Good lack—ay, ay, he’s distracted, it seems.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Page.</span> +See how he kneels to her! stand off, and do but mind him.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">349</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Rise, Sir,—you’l ruin me—dissemble if you love—or you +can ne’er be happy. +<span class="stagedir"> +In a low Voice, and raising him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +My Transport is too high for a Disguise—give me some hope, promise +me some Relief, or at your Feet I’ll pierce a wounded Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Rise, and hope for all you wish: Alas, he faints— +<span class="stagedir"> +She takes him up, he falls upon her Bosom.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Page.</span> +Hold him fast, Madam, between your Arms, and he’ll recover presently. +Stand all away.—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Oh! tell me, wilt thou bless my Youth and Love? Oh! swear, lest thou +shouldst break—for Women wou’d be Gods, but for Inconstancy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Page.</span> +See, he begins to come to himself again—keep off—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +You have a thousand Charms that may secure you—The Ceremony of my +Nuptials is every Evening celebrated, the noise of which draws all the +Town together; be here in Masquerade, and I’ll contrive it so, that you +shall speak with me this Night alone.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +So, now let my Soul take Air—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +What pity ’tis so fine a Gentleman shou’d be thus.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +You must be bringing home your Fops to me, and see what comes of it. +<span class="stagedir"> +As she passes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Fops! I thought him no more a Fop, than I do my own natural Cousin here. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. <em>Mir.</em> in Scorn.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Where am I? +<span class="stagedir"> +The <em>Page</em> has whispered him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Why, here, Sir, here, at <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag28" +id="brother_texttag28" href="#brother_textnote28">Sir <i>Morgan +Blunder’s</i></a> Lodging in <i>Lincolns-Inn-Fields</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +That’s well, he has told me—Where have I been this long half hour, +and more?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Nay, the Lord knows.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I fancy’d I saw a lovely Woman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Fancy’d—why, so you did, Man, my Lady <i>Mirtilla Blunder</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">350</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Methought I slept upon her snowy Bosom, and dreamt I was in Heaven, +where I claim’d her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Good lack aday—why, so you did, Sir, ha, ha, ha.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +And rav’d on Love; and talk’d abundance of Nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Ha, ha, ha, by my Troth, and so you did, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I ask your Pardon, Sir, ’tis an infirmity I have that ever takes me at +the approach of a fine Woman, which made me so unwilling to see your +Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Lookye, I ask your Pardon heartily, or so, d’ye see—and am sorry +you are not in a Condition to visit her often.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I shall be better when I am us’d to her; ’tis the first time only +affects me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Pray, Sir, be pleas’d to use your self to her, or so, d’ye +see—she’s a civil Person, and a Person of Quality before I marry’d +her, d’ye see.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +My Son tells you Truth, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Madam, I doubt it not, pray beg her Pardon, and do you give me yours. +<span class="stagedir"> +Bows and kisses her Hand and goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +A most accomplish’d Person—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actII_sceneIII" id="brother_actII_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag29" id="brother_texttag29" +href="#brother_textnote29">Another Chamber.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em> and <em>Teresia</em>, in Mens Clothes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Well, the Ball does not begin these three Hours, and we’ll divert our +selves at my Aunt’s Basset-Table, which you see is preparing; her +natural Propensity to oblige both Sexes makes her keep a Bank on purpose +to bring ’em together. There we shall see the old and the young, the +ugly and the handsome, Fools that have Money, and Wits that have none; +and if the Table affords nothing to please the Appetite, we’ll abroad +for Forage.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">351</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Merlin</em> pulling in <em>George</em>, follow’d by Sir +<em>Morgan</em>, Page and Footmen to <em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Nay, Sir, I am resolv’d you shall honour my Aunt’s +Basset-Table—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +My Aunt’s Basset-Table? There may be Money stirring among these Fools, +and Fortune may befriend me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Sir <i>Morgan</i>, pray know this worthy Gentleman, I have the +honour to lodge in the House with him. +<span class="stagedir"> +They salute one <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag30" id="brother_texttag30" href="#brother_textnote30">another</a>.</span></p> + +<p>Sir, this is Sir <i>Morgan Blunder</i>, a Person of Quality in +<i>Wales</i>, I assure you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I question it not, Sir, and am proud of the Honour of kissing your +Hands.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Yonder’s a handsom Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +My Brother <i>George</i>, as I live, ’tis as I cou’d wish. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Welborn</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +<i>Lejere!</i></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Welborn!</i> Welcome from <i>Paris</i>, I heard of your arrival +from Prince <i>Frederick</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Yes, I am come to my Destruction, Friend.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ay, thou’rt to be marry’d, I hear, to a <i>Welch</i> Fortune.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Though Matrimony be a sufficient Curse, yet that’s not the +worst—I am fall’n most damnably in love, since I arriv’d, +with a young Creature I saw in the <i>Mall</i> t’other Night; of Quality +she was, I dare swear, by all that was about her; but such a Shape! +a Face! a Wit! a Mind, as in a moment quite subdu’d my +Heart: she had another Lady with her, whom (dogging her Coach) +I found to be a Neighbour of mine, and Grand-Daughter to the Lady +<i>Youthly</i>; but who my Conqueror was I never since could learn.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">352</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +’Slife, <i>Teresia</i>, yonder’s the handsom Fellow that entertain’d us +with so much Wit, on <i>Thursday</i> last in the <i>Mall</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +What, when you chang’d your Breeches for Petticoats at my Lodgings.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +That Night, and ever since, I have felt a sort of <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag31" id="brother_texttag31" href="#brother_textnote31">a Tendre</a> for him.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +As I do for his Friend—Pray Heav’n he be not marry’d! I fear +he has laid an Imbargo on my Heart, before it puts out of the Port.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Are you not for the Basset?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +No, I’ve business at the Ball to night; besides, my Lady <i>Blunder</i> +has a Quarrel to me for last Night’s Debauch; I’ll wait on you in the +Morning. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Welborn</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Well, you to your Business, and I to mine. +<span class="stagedir"> +Speaks as the rest go out.</span></p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Let the dull trading Fool by Business live,</p> +<p>Statesmen by Plots; the Courtier cringe to thrive;</p> +<p>The Fop of Noise and Wealth be cullied on,</p> +<p>And purchase no one Joy by being undone,</p> +<p>Whilst I by nobler careless ways advance,</p> +<p>Since Love and Fortune are acquir’d by Chance.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt Omnes.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +The End of the Second Act.</p> + + +<h5>A Song, sung by Sir <i>Rowland</i> in the second Act.<br> +To <i>TERESIA</i>.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Though the Young prize <em>Cupid’s</em> Fire,</p> +<p>’Tis more valu’d by the Old;</p> +<p>The Sun’s Warmth we now admire,</p> +<p>More than when the Season’s cold.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">353</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Dialogues in the Masque, at the beginning of the third Act.</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">He.</span> +Time and Place you see conspire,</p> +<p>With tender Wishes, fierce Desire;</p> +<p>See the willing Victim stands</p> +<p>To be offer’d by your Hands:</p> +<p>Ah! Let me on Love’s Altars lying,</p> +<p>Clasp my Goddess whilst I’m dying.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">She.</span> +Oh Lord! what hard words, and strange things d’ye say;</p> +<p>Your Eyes <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag32" id="brother_texttag32" href="#brother_textnote32">too</a> seem closing, +and just dying away:</p> +<p>Ah! pray what d’ye want? Explain but your mind,</p> +<p>Which did I but know, perhaps I’d be kind.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">He.</span> +My pretty soft Maid, full of innocent Charms,</p> +<p>I languish to sigh out my Soul in thy Arms;</p> +<p>Oh! then, if I’m lov’d, deny not the Bliss,</p> +<p>But tell me I’m happy, with a ravishing Kiss.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">She.</span> +Oh! Fy, Sir, I vow I cannot endure you;</p> +<p>Be civil, or else I’ll cry out I assure you;</p> +<p>I will not be kiss’d so, nor tumbled, not I,</p> +<p>I’ll tell all your tricks, that I will, if I die.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">He.</span> +Nay, never dissemble, nor smother that Fire;</p> +<p>Your Blushes, and Eyes betray your Desire.</p> +<p>The Practis’d, not Innocent, dally with Bliss,</p> +<p>Then prithee be kind, and taste what it is.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">She.</span> +Let me die now, you’re grown a strange sort of a Man,</p> +<p>To force a young Maid, let her do what she can;</p> +<p>I fear now I blush to think what we’re doing,</p> +<p>And is this the end of all you Men’s wooing?</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<span class="speaker">He.</span> +At this Pleasure all aim, both Godly and Sinners,</p> +<p>And none of ’em blush for’t but poor young Beginners.</p> +<p>In Pleasure both Sexes, all Ages agree,</p> +<p>And those that take most, most happy will be.</p> + +<p class="speaker"> +<i>Chorus</i>. In Pleasure both Sexes, &c.</p> +</div> + + + + +<span class="pagenum">354</span> +<h3 class="act"><a name="brother_actIII" id="brother_actIII"> +ACT III.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actIII_sceneI" id="brother_actIII_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag33" id="brother_texttag33" +href="#brother_textnote33">A rich Chamber.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em> as a Man, <em>Teresia</em> in Masquerade; the +Scene opens, and discovers Lady <em>Youthly</em>, Lady <em>Blunder</em>, +<em>Mirtilla</em>, <em>Manage</em>, Prince <em>Frederick</em> in a rich +Habi, <em>Welborn</em> in one like his, with a Cloke over him, stands +aside, and several others of both Sexes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Oh, my dear <i>Teresia</i>, I’m lost in Love! I’ve seen a Man,—or +rather ’tis an Angel! so gay, so soft, so charming, and so witty; so +dress’d! so shap’d! and danc’d with such an Air!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Hey day! Prithee where’s this Wonder to be seen?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Why dost thou ask? Hast thou not seen a Man of Dress, and Movement of +uncommon Fashion?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +A great many, very odd, and fantastick, I’m sure my dear Man is none of +’em. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sighs.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Thy Heart when fir’d burns easily, and soft, but I am all impatient, +Darts, and Flames, and all the effects of Love are panting in my Heart, +yet never saw his Face: but see, he comes, and I must find a way to let +him know the mischiefs he has done.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +<i>Endimion</i>, where’s Sir <i>Morgan</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +At his usual Diversion, Madam, drinking.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Do you wait near me to Night, I may perhaps have kinder Business +for you e’er the Morning.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +You heap too many Blessings on me, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Oh, turn thy lovely Eyes upon thy Slave, that waits and watches for a +tender Look.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Oh, Sir, why do you press a yielding Heart too much, undone by what +you’ve said already?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Those soft Addresses must be those of Love. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +My Honour was in danger when I promis’d—and yet I blush to tell +you I was pleas’d, and blest the dear necessity that forc’d me.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">355</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ha! ’tis the Man I love—and courts <i>Mirtilla</i>, and she +receives him with inviting Looks. ’Sdeath, she’s a common Lover! already +I’m arriv’d to Jealousy!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em> in Masquerade, with a Paper on his Back and +Breast, goes to <em>Mirtilla</em>, sees one courting her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What gilded thing is that?—I must disturb ’em—’Tis I, +<i>Mirtilla</i>, languishing for the appointed Happiness, while you, +perhaps, are taken up with different Thoughts—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +<i>Lejere!</i> How very feeble do old Lovers charm! Only the new and gay +have pow’r to warm—How shall I put him off? For now my ambitious +Love declares for <i>Frederick</i>; ’tis great to enslave a Prince. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—<i>Lejere</i>—wait till I give the word—perhaps it +may be late—go mix your self i’th’ Crowd, you may be else +suspected— +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes from him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +I have a shreud guess that this should be my Man by his Shape, and Mein. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Looking round about <em>George</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Let me see—What’s this written on his Back?—To be lett ready +furnish’d— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Reading it.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +A very good hearing: So ho, ho, ho, who’s within here? +<span class="stagedir"> +Claps him on the Back.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Who’s there? +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Olivia</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Love and Fortune.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Two very good Friends of mine, prithee who art thou that bring’st +’em?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +A wandring Nymph, that has had a swinging Character of your Person and +Parts—if thou be’st the Man, prithee, dear Stranger, let me see +thy Face; and if I’m not mistaken, ’tis ten to one, but we may go near +to strike up some odd Bargain or other.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And I am as likely a Fellow for some odd Bargain or other, as ever you +met with—Look ye, am I the Man?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Let me see—a very handsome Face, inclining to round; fine wanton +Eyes, with a plaguy Roguish Lear; plump, round, red Lips; not tall, nor +low, and extremely +<span class="pagenum">356</span> +well fashion’d. +<span class="stagedir continue">Reads all this in her +Tablets.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—Ay, ay, you are the Man—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I am glad on’t, and prithee, dear Creature, let me see if thou art not +the Woman—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Heav’n! what Woman, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Why, any Woman that’s pretty, witty, young, and good-natur’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +I had rather shew anything almost than my Face.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Faith, and that’s kind; but every thing in its due time: I love to +arrive at Happiness by degrees, there’s as much Pleasure in the Journey +of Love, as in the Arrival to’t, and the first Stage is a handsom +Face.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Where you bait a while, take a short Survey, and away.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +To Wit, and good Humour; where a Man finds Pleasure enough to engage him +a long while.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Then to all the small Villages, call’d little Freedoms, Kissing, +Playing, Fooling, Sighing, Dying—and so on to the last Stage, +where Whip and Spur laid by, all tir’d and dull, you lazily lie down and +sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, I’m a more vigorous Lover: And since in <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag18" id="brother_commtag18" href="#brother_commnote18">the Country of True Love</a> there remains a +<i>Terra Incognita</i>, I shall always be making new +Discoveries.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +True Love! is there such a thing in the whole Map of Nature?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yes, I once discover’d it in my Voyage round the World.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Sure ’tis some enchanted Place, and vanishes as soon as ’tis +approach’d.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Rowland</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Faith, let’s set out for it, and try; if we lose our Labour, we shall, +like Searchers for the Philosophers Stone, find something that will +recompense our pains.— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Lady <em>Youthly</em> sees her, and sends her Woman to take her from +him.</span> +<span class="pagenum">357</span> +<p class="continue"> +Ha, gone—I must not part so with you—I’ll have you in +my Eye.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +The <em>Spanish</em> Dance: Whilst they dance, the <em>Prince</em> talks +to <em>Mirtilla</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +This Night gives you an Assignation—I tremble at the +thought—Ah, why will you pursue me thus to Ruin? Why with +resistless Charms invade my Heart, that cannot stand their +Force—alone—without my Woman?—the Enterprize with you +would be too dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Dangerous to be ador’d! and at your Feet behold your Slave making +eternal Vows?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +If I were sure that you would pass no further—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Let the fond God of Love be my Security—will you not trust a +Deity?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Whom should she trust, that dares not trust her self?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +That is some Lover, whom I must observe. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Alas, the Foe’s within that will betray me, Ambition, and our Sex’s +Vanity—Sir, you must prevail—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +And in return, for ever take my Soul.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Anon I’ll feign an Illness, and retire to my Apartment, whither this +faithful Friend shall bring you, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pointing to <em>Manage</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Hum!—that looks like some Love Bargain, and <i>Manage</i> call’d +to Witness. By Heav’n, gay Sir, I’ll watch you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +But hark ye, my Fellow-Adventurer, are you not marry’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Marry’d—that’s a Bug-word—prithee if thou hast any such +Design, keep on thy Mask, lest I be tempted to Wickedness.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Nay, truth is, ’tis a thousand pities to spoil a handsom man, to make a +dull Husband of: I have known an old batter’d Bully of Seventy, +unmarry’d, more agreeable for a Gallant, than any scurvy, +out-of-humour’d Husband at Eight and Twenty.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">358</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Gad, a thousand times.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Know, I have Five Hundred Pounds a Year.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Good.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +And the Devil and all of <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag34" +id="brother_texttag34" href="#brother_textnote34">Expectations</a> +from an old Woman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Very good.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +And this Youth, and little Beauty to lay out in love. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls off her Mask.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Teresia!</i> the lovely Maid design’d for my Mother! now, what a Dog +am I? that gives me the greater Gust to her, and wou’d fain cuckold my +Father. +<span class="stagedir"> +Talks to her aside. <em>Mirtilla</em> seems to faint.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +My Lady faints—help, help.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Only the Heat oppresses me—but let it not disturb the Company, +I’ll take the Air a little, and return. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out with <em>Manage</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Is this design’d or real?—perhaps she is retir’d for me—Mrs. +<i>Manage</i>.— +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Manage</em> re-enters, he pulls her by the Sleeve.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Hah! Monsieur <i>Lejere</i>! what shall I feign to put him off withal. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Why dost thou start? How does my dear <i>Mirtilla</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Reposing, Sir, awhile, but anon I’ll wait on her for your +admittance.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Prince <em>Frederick</em> puts on <em>Welborn’s</em> Cloke, goes out, +and <em>Welborn</em> enters into the Company dress’d like the +<em>Prince</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ha, she spoke in passing by that gay thing—What means it, but I’ll +trace the Mystery.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +The young People are lazy, and here’s nothing but gaping and peeping in +one another’s Vizards; come, Madam, let you and I shame ’em into +Action.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Rowland</em> and Lady <em>Youthly</em> dance. After the Dance, +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag35" id="brother_texttag35" +href="#brother_textnote35"><em>Olivia</em> enters</a> with a Letter, +and gives it to <em>Welborn</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Ha! what’s this, Sir, a Challenge?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">359</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +A soft one, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +A Billet—whoever the Lady be, +<span class="stagedir continue">Reads.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +She merits something for but believing I am worth her Mirth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I know not, Sir, how great a Jest you may make of it; but I assure you +the Lady is in earnest, and if you be at leisure to hear Reason from +her—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Fair and softly, my dear Love-Messenger, I am for no hasty +Bargains; not but I shou’d be glad to hear Reason from any of the +Sex—But I have been so damnably jilted—Is she of +Quality?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Then I’ll not hear any thing from her: they are troublesome, and +insolent; and if she have a Husband, to hide her Intrigues she has +recourse to all the little Arts and Cunnings of her Sex; and she that +jilts her Husband, will her Lover.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +She is not troubled with a Husband, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +What, she’s parted from the Fool! then she’s expensive, and for want of +Alimony, jilts all the believing Block-heads that she meets with.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +But this is a Maid, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Worse still! At every turn she’s raving on her Honour; then if she have +a Kinsman, or a Brother, I must be challeng’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Sir, you mistake, my Lady is for Matrimony.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +How!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +You have not forsworn it, I hope.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Not so—but—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +If a Lady, young and handsom, and Ten Thousand Pounds—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Nay, I am not positive—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag36" id="brother_texttag36" +href="#brother_textnote36">Enter Sir <em>Morgan</em></a>, and Sir +<em>Merlin</em>, drunk, singing.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Wise Coxcombs be damn’d, here’s a health to the Man,</p> +<p>That since Life is but short, lives as long as he can.</p> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">360</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Where is my Lady <i>Mirtilla</i>, Rogues?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +And my Mistress, Rascals? For we are resolv’d to shew our selves in +Triumph to our Wives and Mistresses.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Your Mistress, Sir <i>Merlin</i>? mistake not your Mark.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ha! Art thou there, old Cathedral? Why, thou look’st as magnificiently +as <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag19" id="brother_commtag19" +href="#brother_commnote19">old Queen <i>Bess</i> in the +<i>Westminster</i>-Cupboard</a>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Lookye as <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag37" id="brother_texttag37" href="#brother_textnote37">de</a> see, when +<i>Adam</i> wore a Beard, she was in her Prime, or so, <a class="notes" href="#brother_textnote37">de</a> see. +<span class="stagedir"> +Sings.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Sir, you are a saucy <i>Jack</i>, and your Father shall correct you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +My Father! my Father’s an old Toast, de see; and I hope to see him +hang’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Here’s a Heathen-Christian! see his Father hang’d!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ay, hang’d, and all the old Fathers in <i>Christendom</i>. Why, what a +Pox shou’d Fathers trouble the World for? when I come to reign in +Parliament, I will enact it Felony, for any Father to have so +little Grace to live, that has a Son at Years of Discretion.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +A damn’d Rogue, I’ll disinherit him immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Is it so great a Crime, Brother, for a Gentleman to be drunk?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +You lye like a Son of a Whore—I have been drinking Confusion +to all the Fathers and Husbands in <i>England</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +How, Sir, Confusion to Husbands! Look ye, de see, Sir, swallow me that +Word, or I’ll make you deposit all the conjugal Wine you have drunk.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +I deposit all your Wine! Sirrah, you’re a Blunderbuss.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Sirrah, you are a diminutive Bully.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Sirrah, you’re the Whore of <i>Babylon</i>, and I defy you.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">361</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Lookye, de see, I scorn to draw upon a drunken Man, or so, I being +sober; but I boldly challenge you into the Cellar, where thou shalt +drink till thou renounce thy Character, or talk Treason enough to hang +thee, and that’s fair and civil.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Agreed; and when I’m drunk enough to ravish, I’ll cuckold my old Dad, +and fight him for his Mistress.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +I have no Patience; I’ll kill the Dog, because I’ll have the Law on my +side—Come on, Sir.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Draws, the Ladies run out. Sir <em>Merlin</em> draws. <em>George</em> +runs in and parts ’em.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Villain! Rascal! What, draw upon thy Father!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Pray, Sir, who are you? that I may thank you for my Life.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +One, Sir, whose Duty ’twas. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls off his Vizard.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What, my dear <i>George</i>!—I’ll go and cut off the Intail of my +Estate presently, and thou shalt have it all, Boy, thou shalt—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt all but <em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Fortune is still my Friend: Had but Mirtilla been so! I wonder that +she sends not to me: my Love’s impatient, and I cannot wait—while +the dull Sot is boozing with his Brother-Fools in the Cellar, I’ll +softly to the Chamber of my Love—Perhaps she waits me +there—</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actIII_sceneII" id="brother_actIII_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +A Chamber, and Alcove, discovers <em>Mirtilla</em> and Prince +<em>Frederick</em>.</h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Oh! I am ravish’d with excess of Joy.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Enough, my charming Prince! Oh, you have said enough.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Never, my <i>Mirtilla</i>!</p> +<p class="continue"> +The Sun that views the World, nor the bright Moon, that favours Lovers +Stealths, shall ever see that Hour. Vast, as thy Beauties, are my young +Desires; and every new Possession kindles new Flames, soft as thy Eyes, +soft +<span class="pagenum">362</span> +as thy tender Touches; and e’er the Pantings of my Heart are laid, new +Transports, from new Wishes, dance about it, and still remain in Love’s +harmonious Order. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kisses and embraces her.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em>, softly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +This House I know, and this should be her Bed-Chamber, because the best; +and yet methought I heard another Voice—but I may be mistaken.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I faint with Pleasure of each tender Clasp; I sigh, and languish, +gazing on thy Eyes! and die upon thy Lips, with every Kiss.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Surely I know that Voice! Torments, and Hell!—but ’tis impossible. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Oh! satisfy my Doubt, my trembling Doubt! Am I belov’d? Have I about me +ought engaging to thee, Charmer of my Soul?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +It is the Prince. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Ah, Prince! Can <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag38" id="brother_texttag38" href="#brother_textnote38">you</a> such needless +Questions ask, after the Sacrifice which I have made?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Hell take thee for that Falshood. +<span class="stagedir"> +Draws.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Think not the mighty Present of your Jewels, enough to purchase +Provinces, has bought one single Sigh, or Wish: No, my dear Prince, you +owe ’em all to Love, and your own Charms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Oh, damn’d, dissembling Jilt! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No more, no more, my Soul’s opprest with Joy: let me unload it in thy +tender Arms, and sigh it out into thy ravishing Bosom.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Death, and Damnation!—</p> + +<p>I shall forget his Quality and Virtue, forget he was my Friend, or +sav’d this Life; and like a River, swell’d with angry Tides, o’erflow +those Banks that made the Stream so gay.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Who’s there?—I heard a Voice—<i>Manage</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yes. +<span class="stagedir"> +Softly.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">363</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Approach, thou Confident of all my Joys; approach, and be +rewarded— +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Prince</em> takes his Jewel from his Hat.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yes, for my excellent Bauding—By Heav’n, I dare not touch his +princely Person.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Where art thou? take this Jewel and retire. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gropes for his Hand, gives it him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +E’en my Misfortunes have a sort of Luck; but I’ll withdraw, for fear +this Devil about me shou’d raise my too rash Hand against his Life. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Come, my eternal Pleasure—each Moment of the happy Lover’s Hour, +is worth an Age of dull, and common Life.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt into the Alcove, the Scene shuts.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actIII_sceneIII" id="brother_actIII_sceneIII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene III.</span></a> +A Garden by Night still.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em> with his Sword in his Hand, as before.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Why do I vainly call for Vengeance down, and have it in my +Hand?—By Heav’n, I’ll back—<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag39" id="brother_texttag39" href="#brother_textnote39">Whither?</a> To kill a Woman, a young +perjur’d Woman!—Oh, ye false Fair Ones! shou’d we do you Justice, +a universal Ruin wou’d ensue; not one wou’d live to stock the World +anew. Who is’t among ye All, ye Fair Deceivers, ye charming Mischiefs to +the noble Race, can swear she’s Innocent, without Damnation? No, no, go +on—be false—be fickle still: You act but Nature—But, +my faithless Friend—where I repose the secrets of my +Soul—except this one—Alas! he knew not this:—Why do I +blame him then?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em>, dress’d as before.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Fire! Fire! Fire!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Olivia’s</i> Voice!—Ha! what art thou? Thy Voice shou’d be +<i>Olivia’s</i>, but thy Shape—and yet a Woman is all o’er +Disguise.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Blunder</em> in her Night-Gown.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Fire! Fire! Fire! My Son, my dear Sir <i>Morgan</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">364</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Rowland</em>, and Servants.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +A Pox on your Son, and mine to boot; they have set all the Sack-Butts a +Flaming in the Cellar, thence the Mischief began. <i>Timothy</i>, +<i>Roger</i>, <i>Jeffrey</i>, my Money-Trunks, ye Rogues! my +money-Trunks!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +My Son, good <i>Roger</i>! my own Sir <i>Moggy</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +The ten thousand Pounds, ye Rascal, in the Iron Trunk, that was to be +paid Mr. <i>Welborn</i> for <i>Olivia’s</i> Portion. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Oh my Son! my Son!—run to the Parson, <i>Sam</i>, and let him send +the Church-Buckets. Oh, some help! some help!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Manage</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Oh, Heavens! my Lady <i>Mirtilla’s</i> Chamber’s all on Flame.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Britton</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ha,—the Prince! I had forgot his Danger.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Ah! look up, and see how it burns.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Britton</i>, a Million for a Ladder!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Blessing on you, Sir, if you dare venture through the House; there lies +one in the Fore-Garden.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Britt.</span> +The Passage is on fire, Sir, you cannot go.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Revenge is vanish’d, and Love takes its place: Soft Love, and mightier +Friendship seizes all. I’ll save him, though I perish in the Attempt. +<span class="stagedir"> +Runs out, <em>Britton</em> after him.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter at another Door, Sir <em>Rowland</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +A thousand Pound for him that saves Sir <i>Morgan</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +And, do ye hear, let my Rogue lie; I’d rather he should be burnt, than +hang’d on <i>Tyburn</i> Road, for murdering his Father.—But +where’s Boy <i>George</i>?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Men with Trunks.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Safe, Sir, I hope; he was not in the House.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">365</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +So, so, away with these Trunks to my Lady <i>Youthly’s</i> in +<i>Southampton</i>-Square, and tell her we must trouble her to night. +Come, Sister, let’s away. +<span class="stagedir"> +Ex. Lady <em>Blunder</em>, and Sir <em>Rowland</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Prince <em>Frederick</em> and <em>Mirtilla</em>, appear at the Window, +the Flame behind ’em.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Help, help, and save <i>Mirtilla</i>! Ask any Price, my Life, my +Fortune! All!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Oh, Heav’ns, the Flame pursues us as we fly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No help! Oh Gods, I shall prevent the Flame, and perish by my Fears to +see you die!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Alas! Sir, you with ease may save your Life! This Window you may leap, +but I want Courage.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No, my <i>Mirtilla</i>, if it be thy Fate, I’ll grasp thee, ev’n in +Flames, and die with thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +We die! we die! the Flame takes hold of us.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em> with a Ladder, and puts it to the Window.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Ha! some pitying God takes care of us. Haste, haste, my Charmer; Heav’n +has sent us Aid.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Puts her on the Ladder, she descends into <em>George’s</em> Arms; after +her, the <em>Prince</em>. <em>George</em> puts her into +<em>Manage’s</em> Arms, she faints; he runs up to receive the +<em>Prince</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +<i>Lejere!</i> dear Man of Luck—Some happy Star reign’d at thy +glorious Birth; every thing is prosperous thou espousest.—How +fares my Love, the Treasure of my Soul?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Only fainting with the Fright, but she recovers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +My Chair there, quickly, that waits for me.—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Chair; he puts her, and <em>Manage</em> into it.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em>.</p> + +<p>Carry ’em to Mr. <i>Welborn’s</i>, to my Lodgings there, and then +return to me; for I am wondrous faint, and cannot walk.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ha! by my Life, my Man!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">366</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +But if I might impose so much, <i>Lejere</i>, upon thy Friendship, +I beg thou wouldst see her safely carry’d to my Lodgings at +<i>Welborn’s</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +You shall command me, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt Chair, <em>George</em> and <em>Britton</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +You seem not well, Sir, pray repose upon my Arm a while.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I thank you, Sir, indeed I am not well.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Methinks I find a Pleasure but in touching him—Wou’d I cou’d see +his Face by all this fatal Light.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Constable</em> and Watch.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Const.</span> +So, so, the Fire abates, the Engines play’d rarely, and we have Ten +Guineas here, Neighbours, to watch about the House; for where there’s +Fire, there’s Rogues—Hum, who have we here?—How now, +Mr.—Hum, what have you got under your Arm there, ha? Take away +this Box of Jewels. +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Sir <em>Morgan</em>, <ins class="correction" title="printed in roman (emphatic) type">and</ins> Sir <em>Merlin</em>, creeping out of the +Cellar Window.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Ha, who have we here creeping out of the Cellar-Window? more Rogues!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Sirrah! you’re a Baud, Sirrah! and for a Tester will wink at the Vices +of the Nation, Sirrah! Call men of the best Quality Rogues! that have +stood for Knights of the Shire, and made the Mobile drunk, Sirrah!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Const.</span> +We cry you Mercy, Sir, we did not know your Worships.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Lookye, de see, here’s a Crown for you; carry us to the next Tavern, and +we’ll make thee, and all thy Mirmidons, as drunk as a Boat in a +Storm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Sir, I find you have Interest with these arbitrary Tyrants of the +Parish; pray will you bail me, and this Gentleman?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +What, <i>Endimion</i>! my Lady <i>Mirtilla’s</i> Page? He lent me Money +to Night at the Basset-Table; I’ll be bound Hand and Foot for him, Mr. +Constable, and, gad, we’ll all to the Tavern, and <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag20" id="brother_commtag20" href="#brother_commnote20">drink up the Sun</a>, Boys.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">367</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Yonder Gentleman too has receiv’d some hurt by the Fire, and must go +home, Sir; but you must restore him the Box, Mr. Constable.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Ay, ay, lookye, de see, return the Gentleman all; they’re Gentlemen, and +our intimate Friends, d’ye see. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exeunt <em>Prince</em>, and <em>Olivia</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a <em>Servant</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Const.</span> +Stand: Who goes there?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +<i>Philip</i>—Lookye, d’ye see, he shall along with us to the +Tavern.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Serv.</span> +Sir <i>Morgan</i>, I came to seek you: your Lady Mother sent me back on +purpose; she has spoil’d her Beauty with crying for you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +And wash’d off all her Paint?—Or so, de see! Gad sa’ me, +<i>Philip</i>, this is ill Luck. Come, let us go drink down Sorrow.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Serv.</span> +Being sent of such an Errand, as your Safety, Sir, I dare not stay +and drink now, before I’ve satisfy’d your Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Not drink! I charge you in the King’s Name, Mr. Constable, bring him +along. +<span class="stagedir"> +The <em>Constable</em> and Watch seize him.</span></p> + +<p class="center">Sings.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Wise Coxcombs be damn’d, here’s a Health to the Man,</p> +<p>That since Life is but short, lives as long as he can.</p> +</div> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag40" id="brother_texttag40" +href="#brother_textnote40">Exeunt.</a></p> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="brother_actIV" id="brother_actIV"> +ACT IV.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actIV_sceneI" id="brother_actIV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +The <em>Prince’s</em> Lodgings.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Page with Lights, sets ’em on the Table. +<span class="stagedir">Ex.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Mirtilla</em>, led by Mrs. <em>Manage</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Ha! where am I, <i>Manage</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Heav’n be thanked, Madam, at the Prince’s Lodgings.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">368</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +What happy Star conducted us, and sav’d us from the Fury of the +Flames?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Those whose Influence are always gracious to your Ladyship.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +But where’s the Prince? where’s my illustrious Lover?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Waiting the Return of the Chair, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +But my <i>Endimion</i>?—Is <i>Endimion</i> safe?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Madam, he is: I saw him in the Garden.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Then perish all the rest—Go send to search him out, and let him +instantly be brought to me—Hah—<i>Lejere</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Baud, stand aside—and do your Office yonder— +<span class="stagedir continue">Puts away <em>Manage</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Why are you frighted, Madam, because I’m not the Lover you expected?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +What Lover! be witness, Heaven—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +That thou art false, false as the insatiate Seas, that smiling tempt the +vain Adventurer, whom flattering, far from any saving there, swell their +false Waves to a destructive Storm.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Why all this mighty Rage?—Because I disappointed you to night?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, by Heaven, I dully cou’d have waited for the Hour; have hop’d, and +wish’d, and languish’d out an Age. But, oh <i>Mirtilla</i>! Oh thou +perjur’d Fair!—But vanish all the Softness of my Soul, I will +be satirical.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>A Plague, a Torment, to your fickle Sex,</p> +<p>Those smiling, sighing, weeping Hypocrites.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +And can you think my Flight is criminal? because I sav’d this worthless +Life—for you—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What Innocence adorns her Tongue, and Eyes! while Hell and Furies give +her Heart its motion. You know not where you are?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Perhaps I do not.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">369</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Swear, for thou’rt damn’d already, and by what black Degrees I will +unfold: When first I saw this gay, this glorious Mischief, though nobly +born, ’twas hid in mean Obscurity; the shining Viper lay half dead with +Poverty, I took it up, and laid it next my Heart, fed it, and +call’d its faded Beauties back.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Confess’d; And what of this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Confirm’d you mine, by all the Obligations Profuseness cou’d invent, or +Love inspire.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +And yet at your Return you found me marry’d to another.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Death and Hell! that was not yet the worst: You flatter’d me with some +Pretence of Penitence; but on the Night, the dear destructive Night, you +rais’d my Hopes to all distracting Love cou’d wish—that very +Night—Oh, let me rave and die, and never think that Disappointment +o’er!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +What, you saw me courted at the Ball, perhaps.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Perhaps I saw it in your Chamber too. Breathless and panting, with +new-acted Joys, the happy Lover lay—Oh <i>Mirtilla</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Nay, if he knows it, I’ll deny’t no more. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +There is no Honesty in all thy Kind.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Or if there be, those that deal in’t are weary of their Trade. But +where’s the mighty Crime?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, I expect thou shouldst out-face my Eyes, out-swear my Hearing, and +out-lye my Senses.—The Prince! the Prince! thou faithless dear +destruction.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +The Prince! good Heaven! Is all this Heat for him?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Thou own’st the Conquest then?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +With as much Vanity as thou wouldst do, if thou hadst won his Sword: +Hast thou took care wisely to teach me all the Arts of Life, and dost +thou now upbraid my Industry? Look round the World, and thou shalt see, +<i>Lejere</i>, Ambition still supplies the place of Love. The worn-out +Lady, that can serve your Interest, you swear +<span class="pagenum">370</span> +has Beauties that out-charms Fifteen; and for the Vanity of Quality, you +feign and languish, lye, protest, and flatter—All Things in Nature +cheat, or else are cheated.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Well said; take off thy Veil, and shew the Jilt.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +You never knew a Woman thrive so well by real Love, as by Dissimulation: +This has a thousand Arts and Tricks to conquer; appears in any Shape, in +any Humour; can laugh or weep, be coy or play, by turns, as suits the +Lover best, while simple Love has only one Road of Sighs and Softness; +these to <i>Lejere</i> are due: But all my Charms, and Arts of gay +dissembling, are for the credulous Prince.—Ha—he’s +here!—and with him the dear Youth that has enslav’d me, who +triumphs o’er the rest. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Prince <em>Frederick</em>, <em>Olivia</em> following, sees +<em>Mirtilla</em>, and withdraws.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ha! <i>Mirtilla</i>, and my Brother here? Oh, how I long to see that +Stranger’s Face. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +<i>Mirtilla</i>, thou Charmer of Life’s dull and tedious Hours, how +fares thy Heart? Dwells any Pantings there, but those that Love, and his +dear Joys create?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Or if there do, you shou’d excuse it now.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +How many Devils reign in beauteous Woman!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +My dear <i>Lejere</i>, congratulate my Joys; take all my Friendship +thou—but thou my Soul. Come, come, my Friend, let us retire +together; I’ll give thee leave to gaze upon my Heaven, and feed on all +the Sweets that Friendship may: But all the rest of the vast Store is +mine.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Madam, <i>Endimion</i> is already here. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Thou hast reviv’d me—Let him wait my Call.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag41" id="brother_texttag41" +href="#brother_textnote41">Exit <em>Prince</em> with +<em>Mirtilla</em></a>, <em>George</em> goes out, and peeps at the Door. +<em>Olivia</em> comes forward.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Spite, Spite, and dire Revenge seize my fond Soul!—Oh, that I were +a Man, a loose leud Man; how easily wou’d I rob him of her Heart, +and leave him but the shadow of Enjoyment!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">371</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Re-enter <em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Now, my dear Sister, if thou ever lov’dst me, revenge thy Brother on +this perjur’d Woman, and snatch her from this gallant Rival’s Arms. She +loves thee—Dissemble thou to love again; meet her Advances with an +equal Ardour, and when thou hast wound her up to dalliance, I’ll bring +the Prince a witness of her Shame.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +But what if he shou’d kill me—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I’ll take care of that.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Then e’er the morning dawns, you shall behold it: She languishes to see +me, and I wait on purpose for her Commands.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +As I cou’d wish: Be sure to act the Lover well. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag42" id="brother_texttag42" +href="#brother_textnote42">Exit.</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +As well as I can act it.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Welborn</em>, habited as last.</p> + +<p>That all Mankind are damn’d, I’m positive; at least all Lovers +are.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +What have we here? the Spark that rally’d me about a Woman at the Ball +to night? Who is it, Sir, you curse so heartily.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ha, how beautiful he is—how many Charms dwell in that lovely +Face— +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +’Tis you I curse.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Gad, I thank you for that, you were kinder to night, when you told me of +a fine Woman that was in love with me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Why, what have you to do with Woman-kind?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +A pretty civil Question; has the Lady that sent you a mind to be +inform’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Or if she had, you’re not at leisure now, you are taken up, Sir, with +another Beauty. Did not you swear, never to speak to Woman-kind, till I +had brought her, I told you, sigh’d for you?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Right, and I have kept my word religiously.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">372</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +The Devil you have, witness the Joy <i>Mirtilla</i> gave your Soul: Even +now you were all Transport, all Extasy of Love; by Heaven, you had +forgot you brought me in, and past triumphant in <i>Mirtilla’s</i> Arms, +Love in your Heart, and Pleasure in your Eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Ay, sure he mistakes me for the amorous Prince, and thus, perhaps, has +mistook me all the Night: I must not undeceive him. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Whate’er you saw, I have a Heart unwounded, a Heart that never +soundly loved, a little scratch it got the other day by a young +Beauty in the <i>Mall</i>, her Name I know not, but I wish’d to know it, +and dogg’d her Coach, I sigh’d a little after her, but since ne’er +saw the lovely Vision.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Sure this was I. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +What Livery had she, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +That I took notice of, ’twas Green and Gold—Since that, +I trifle now and then with Love, to chase away this Image, and +that’s all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ha, now I view him well, ’tis the same handsome Fellow that entertain’d +us in the <i>Mall</i> last Thursday.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Come, Sir, ’tis late, please you to take a Bed with me to Night, where +we’ll beget a better Understanding.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +A better than you imagine—’Sdeath, to bed with him, I tremble +at the thought—Sir, I do not love a Bedfellow.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Sir, I have lent my Lodgings to a Stranger of Quality, or I wou’d offer +you a single Bed—but for once you may dispense with a +Bedfellow.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I will not put you to that trouble, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Do you design to make me your Friend, and use me with Ceremony? Who +waits there?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Footman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +’Slife, what shall I do? I cou’d even consent, to prevent his going to +<i>Mirtilla</i>—besides, I have no home to go to—</p> + +<span class="pagenum">373</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Come, no more Scruples—here—a Night-Gown and a Cap for +the Gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +What shall I do?—I have a little urgent Business, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +If there be absolute necessity, I’ll see you to your Lodgings.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Oh, by no means, Sir. ’Sdeath, whither can I go?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Why do you pause? Deal freely with me, Sir, I hope you do not take +me for a Lover of my own Sex— Come, come to bed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Go you, Sir, I’ll sit and read by you till Day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +’Sdeath, Sir, d’ye think my bed’s infectious?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I shall betray my Sex in my denial, and that at last I can but do if +Necessity compel me to’t. +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Go on, Sir, you have shamed me. +<span class="stagedir"><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag43" +id="brother_texttag43" href="#brother_textnote43">Exeunt.</a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Prince</em> and <em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +And thus thou hast my whole Adventure out, short was the Conquest, but +the Joys are lasting.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I am glad on’t, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Why dost wear a Cloud upon thy brows, when Love’s gay Sunshine dances in +my Eyes? If thou’rt her Lover too, I pity thee; her solemn Vows +breath’d in the height of Love, disarm me <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag44" id="brother_texttag44" href="#brother_textnote44">of thy hopes</a>, if Friendship wou’d permit +thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I do not think it, Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Not think it, not think that she has sworn!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yes, doubtless, Sir—she’s prodigal of Vows, and I dare swear, by +all she’s sworn by, she’ll break ’em all: She has less Faith than all +the fickle Sex, uncertain and more wanton than the Winds, that spare no +Births of Nature in their wild course, from the tall Cedar to the +Flowers beneath, but <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag45" id="brother_texttag45" href="#brother_textnote45">ruffle, ravish, and +ruin</a> all.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I speak of my <i>Mirtilla</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Why, so do I—of yours, of mine, or any Man’s <i>Mirtilla</i>.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">374</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Away, she that with force of Love can sigh and weep—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +This very she, has all the while dissembled! Such Love she deals to +every gaudy Coxcomb, how will she practice then upon a Hero?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Away, it cannot be.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +By all your Friendship to me, Sir, ’tis truth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag46" id="brother_texttag46" +href="#brother_textnote46">Racks</a> and Tortures!—let her have +made of me a mere Example, by whom the cozen’d World might have grown +wise: No matter, then I had been pleas’d, though cullyed—Why hast +thou ruined my Repose with Truths that carry more Damnation than a Lye? +But Oh—thou art my Friend, and I forgive thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Sir, I have done, and humbly ask your Pardon. +<span class="stagedir"> +Offers to go.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Stay, stay, <i>Lejere</i>,—if she be false, thou’rt all the World +has left me; and I believe—but canst thou prove this to me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Perhaps I may before the Morning’s dawn.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Ha, prove it here—here, in this very House!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ay, here, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +What, in my Lodgings will she receive her Spark—by Heaven, were he +the darling Son of a Monarch, an Empire’s Hope, and Joy of all the Fair, +he shou’d not live to rifle me of Peace.—Come, shew me this +destin’d Victim to my Rage.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, my Revenge is only comical—If you wou’d see how Woman can +dissemble, come on, and follow me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +What, disturb her Rest! Didst thou not see her fainting with the +Fatigues this Night had given her, and begg’d me I would leave her to +Repose?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yes, and wonder’d at her Art; and when you begg’d to watch by her +Bed-side, with what dear Promises she put you off; while every word fell +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag47" id="brother_texttag47" +href="#brother_textnote47">feebly</a> from her Tongue, as if’t had +been her last, so very sick she was—till +<span class="pagenum">375</span> +you were gone—Hark—a Door opens—I will +obscure the Lights. +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts away the Lights.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia.</em> They retire a little.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Was ever Maid so <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag48" id="brother_texttag48" href="#brother_textnote48">near to being</a> +undone? Oh Heavens! in bed with the dear Man I love, ready to be +betray’d by every Sigh. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>George</em> peeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Tis <i>Olivia</i>.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Manage</em> groping.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +I left him here—what, by dark? <i>Endimion</i>, young, handsome +Sir, where are you? +<span class="stagedir"> +Calls <em>Olivia</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Do you hear that, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Oh, are you here?— +<span class="stagedir"> +Runs against <em>Olivia</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +’Slife, ’tis <i>Manage</i>—how shall I escape?— +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Come, Sir, my Lady <i>Mirtilla</i> has dismiss’d her troublesome Lovers, +for your more agreeable Company.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +D’ye hear that, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Come softly on, Sir, and follow me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I’m all Obedience—</p> +<p class="continue"> +She cannot ravish me, and that’s a Comfort. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside, going out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Oh, <i>Lejere</i>—can this be possible? Can there be such a +Woman?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Follow him, Sir, and see—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +See what!—be witness of her Infamy? Hell! Hell, and all the Fires +of Lust possess her! when she’s so old and leud, all Mankind shun +her.—I’ll be a Coward in my own dire Revenge, and use no manly +Mercy.—But oh, I faint, I faint with Rage and Love, +which like two meeting Tides, swell into Storms.—Bear me a minute +to my Couch within.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What have I done! now I repent my Rashness.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag49" id="brother_texttag49" +href="#brother_textnote49">Exeunt.</a></p> + + +<span class="pagenum">376</span> +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actIV_sceneII" id="brother_actIV_sceneII"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag50" id="brother_texttag50" +href="#brother_textnote50"><span class="smallcaps">Scene +II.</span></a> +Draws off, discovers <em>Mirtilla</em> at her Toylet, +dress’d. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Manage</em>, leading <em>Olivia</em> in as <em>Endymion</em>, +who falls at <em>Mirtilla’s</em> Feet, whilst she’s there, sings a Song; +she takes him up.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Rise,—When Lovers are alone they pardon +Ceremony.—I sent for you to end the Night with me; +say—how shall we employ it?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I’ll sigh, and gaze upon your lovely Face.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Nothing but sigh, and gaze; we shall grow dull.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I’ll tell you Tales of Love, and sing you Songs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Thy Voice, ’tis true, can charm a thousand ways; but Lovers time their +Joys, these for the Day, those for the lovely Night. And when they would +be silently in love, have Musick of soft Sighs and gentler Whispers.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Oh, Love inspires all this—What shall I do? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Nay, think not because I sent for you alone, while Night and Silence +favour Lovers Stealths, to take advantage of my yielding Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +I wou’d to Heaven she were in earnest now.</p> + +<p class="entrance">A Noise. Enter <em>Manage</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Oh, hide your Favourite, Madam—do you hear.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +A jealous Lover only, comes in such a Storm—Dear, to my Heart, +whose Safety is my Life. Submit to be conceal’d—but where—Oh +Heavens, he comes—’Tis for you I fear— +<span class="stagedir"> +They search for a place.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +He comes—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Here, let my Train secure you—Till now I never found the right Use +of long Trains and Farthingals. +<span class="stagedir"> +She kneels, <em>Man.</em> puts her Train over +<em>Olivia</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Prince</em> and <em>George</em>, at the Door.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Sdeath, you have made these Pauses and Alarms to give her time to jilt +you.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">377</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Pray Heaven she do—I’d not be undeceiv’d for all the Sun surveys. +<span class="stagedir"> +Enters.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +My Lord the Prince! now you are kind indeed. +<span class="stagedir continue">Goes and embraces him.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—hah! what means this Unconcern?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I thought I’ad left you sick, extremely sick.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +And are you griev’d to find my Health return?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No, wondrous glad of it. You’re mighty gay, <i>Mirtilla</i>, much in +Glory.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Can he, who lays his Fortune at my Feet, think me too glorious for his +Arms and Eyes?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Fifty to one the Gipsy jilts him yet. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Pray Heaven she lyes but handsomly— +<span class="stagedir continue">Aside.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—for mine, <i>Mirtilla</i>! Ha—ha—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Am I not yours? You cannot doubt my Vows.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +She’ll do’t, and make me love her anew for her rare dexterity at +dissembling.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I left you wearied, going to your Bed, but find you at your Toylet gayly +dress’d, as if some Conquest you design’d e’er morning.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +<i>Manage</i>, Sir, from the Fire, secur’d these Trifles, and I was +trying several Dresses on; that this slight Beauty that you say has +charm’d you, might, when you saw it next, complete the Conquest.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And that thou wilt, if Flattery can do’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Now, were she guilty, as I’m sure she’s not, this Softness would undo +me, and appease me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +You seem as if you doubted what I say. +<span class="stagedir continue">This while, <em>Olivia</em> gets off +unseen.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +By all the Powers—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Hold, I scorn to need an Oath to fix my Faith; Oh! thou art all divine, +and canst not err. +<span class="stagedir continue">Embraces her.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Curs’d be the Tongue that dares profane thy Virtue, and curs’d the +listning Fool that dares believe it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What a poor, wretched, baffled thing is Man, by feebler Woman aw’d and +made a Coxcomb!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">378</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Durst any one traduce my Virtue, Sir, and is it possible that you could +hear it?—Then perish all the Beauties you have flatter’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Tears her Head-things.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Come to my Arms, thou Charmer of my Soul! and if one spark of Jealousy +remain, one of those precious Tears shall quench the Crime—Oh, +come, and let me lead thee to thy Bed, and breathe new Vows into thy +panting Bosom. +<span class="stagedir"> +Leads her off, she looks back on <em>George</em> and smiles.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Now all the Plagues of injur’d Lovers wreck thee; ’Sdeath, where has she +hid <i>Olivia</i>? or how am I deceiv’d?—’Tis Day, and with it new +Invention rise to damn this Woman to the sin of Shame; break all the +Chains that hold the princely Youth, and sink her with her fancy’d Power +and Vanity.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exit.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actIV_sceneIII" id="brother_actIV_sceneIII"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag50a" id="brother_texttag50a" +href="#brother_textnote50"><span class="smallcaps">Scene +III.</span></a> +Changes to Lady <em>Youthly’s</em>. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Sir <em>Rowland</em> half dress’d, Lady <em>Blunder</em> in an +Undress, Lady <em>Youthly</em> in her morning-dress, <em>Teresia</em> +and Mr. <em>Twang</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Morrow, my Lady <i>Youthly</i>, and thank you for my Night’s +Lodging—You are as early up as if it had been your +Wedding-day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Truly, Sir <i>Rowland</i>, that I intend.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +But where’s the Bride-groom, Madam?</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Roger</em>.</p> + +<p>How now, <i>Roger</i>, what, no news yet of <i>George</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +Alas! none, Sir, none, till the Rubbish be removed.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Rubbish—What—what, is <i>George</i> become the Rubbish of +the World then? +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Twang.</span> +Why, Man is but Dust, as a Man may say, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +But are you sure, <i>Roger</i>, my Jewel, my Sir <i>Moggy</i> +escap’d?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Rog.</span> +The Watch drew him out of the Cellar-window, Madam.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">379</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +How, Mr. <i>Twang</i>, the young Gentleman burnt—Oh— +<span class="stagedir"> +Falls in a Chair.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Alas! my Grandmother faints with your ill News.—Good Sir +<i>Rowland</i>, comfort her, and dry your Eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Burnt, Madam! No, no, only the House fell on him, or so— +<span class="stagedir"> +Feigns Chearfulness, and speaks to Lady <em>Youthly</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +How! the House fell on him—Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Ah, Madam, that’s all; why, the young Rogue has <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag21" id="brother_commtag21" href="#brother_commnote21">a Back like an Elephant—’twill bear a +Castle</a>, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Alas, good Man: What a Mercy ’tis, Mr. <i>Twang</i>, to have a Back like +an Elephant!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Of what wonderful Use it is upon occasion—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Ay—but—but I shall never see him more, Back nor Breast. +<span class="stagedir"> +Weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Twang.</span> +Good Sir, discomfort not my Lady—Consider Man’s a +Flower—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Ay, but <i>George</i> was such a Flower! He was, Mr. <i>Twang</i>, he +was the very Pink of Prentices. Ah! what a rare rampant Lord Mayor he +wou’d have made! And what a swinging Sheriff— +<span class="stagedir"> +Cries.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +What, cry, so near your Wedding-day, Sir Rowland?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Well, if he be gone—Peace be with him: and, ’Ifaks, Sweet-heart, +we’ll marry, and beget new Sons and Daughters—but—but I +shall ne’er beget another <i>George</i>. +<span class="stagedir"> +Cries.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +This is but a Scurvy Tune for your hymenical Song, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Alas! Mrs. <i>Teresia</i>, my Instrument is untun’d, and good for +nothing now but to be hung upon the Willows.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Cry within.</span> +Murder, Murder, Murder!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Footman. <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag51" id="brother_texttag51" href="#brother_textnote51">Sir <em>Merlin</em> +with his Sword</a> drawn, and Sir <em>Morgan</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What’s here, my Rogue?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">380</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Twang.</span> +What’s the matter, Gentlemen, that ye enter the House in this hostile +manner?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +What, Mr. <i>Twang</i>, de see!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ay, ay—stand by Divinity—and know, that we, the Pillars of +the Nation, are come, de see—to ravish.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Oh, my dear Sir Morgan. +<span class="stagedir"> +Embraces him.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +I do not intend to ravish, like a <i>Jew</i>, in my own Tribe—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +What say they, Mr. <i>Twang</i>, ravish? Oh, save my Honour—lead +me to my Bed-Chamber, where, if they dare venture to come, they come +upon their Peril. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Twang</em> leads her out. Sir <em>Morgan</em> goes to +<em>Ter.</em></span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Old Fellow, do’st hear? Sir <i>Pandarus</i> of <i>Troy</i>, deliver me +my <i>Cressida</i>, de see, peacefully, or I am resolved to bear her off +<i>Vi & Armis</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Sweet Nephew, retire, we are just upon making your Peace.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ha—<a class="comm" name="brother_commtag22" id="brother_commtag22" href="#brother_commnote22">Old Queen +<i>Gwiniver</i></a>, without her Ruff on?</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Sir <em>Merlin</em> takes hold of her to bear her off; <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag52" id="brother_texttag52" href="#brother_textnote52">she cries out</a>: Sir <em>Rowland</em> draws upon +him. As they are going to fight, <em>George</em> enters.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Is there a Man in Nature’s Race so vile, dares lift a guilty Hand +against his Father?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Father me no Fathers; I fight for <i>Teresia</i>, my lawfully begotten +Spouse.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +That I once called you Brother, saves your Life; therefore resign your +Sword here at his reverend Feet.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Sirrah, you lye, Sirrah—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +There, drag away this Brute. +<span class="stagedir"> +Disarms him. To the Footman.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Rogues, Dogs, bring Mrs. <i>Teresia</i> along with you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Sure this is my fine Fellow—and yet the very same that’s to be +married to my Grandmother; nor can that City Habit hide the Gentleman. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>George</em> speaks this while with his Father, who embraces +him.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">381</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Burnt, say you, Mrs. <i>Teresia</i>, de see—my Lady +<i>Mirtilla</i> burnt! Nay, then, ’tis time to go to sleep, get sober, +and marry again. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Enough, my Boy, enough; thou deserv’st my whole Estate, and thou shalt +have it, Boy—This day thou shalt marry the Widow, and I her +Grand-child. I’ll to my Lawyers, and settle all upon thee instantly. +<span class="stagedir"> +Goes out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +How, marry to day—Old Gentleman, you must be cozen’d; and, Faith, +that goes against my Conscience—Ha, the Fair, the Young +<i>Teresia</i> there—When a man’s bent upon Wickedness, the Devil +never wants an Opportunity to present him with, that she shou’d be in my +way now—Fair Creature, are you resolv’d to be my +Mother-in-law?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +As sure as you to be my Grandfather, Sir—And see—the News of +your being come, has rais’d my Grandmother.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Lettice</em>, <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag53" id="brother_texttag53" href="#brother_textnote53">my Lady’s maid</a>, +and Lady <em>Youthly</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +A Pox upon her, her Ghost had been less frightful.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +I cou’d have spar’d her now too; but see she advances as swift as +Time.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And as old: What shall I do? I dye to speak with you—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Where—where’s this Young Welcome Gentleman—Oh, are you here, +Sir— +<span class="stagedir"> +She sees him not, but runs upon him.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +<i>Lettice</i>, take <i>Teresia</i>, and get you to your Chamber, she +has her Trinkets to get ready against the Wedding anon, for we’ll make +but one work of both.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Ay, ’twill save Charges, Madam—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Ay, ay, get you gone, Lovers sometimes wou’d be private.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Heark ye—leave me not to her mercy, by Love, if you do, I’ll +follow you to your Chamber.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Leave you! No, hang me if I do, till I have told you a piece of my mind, +for I find there’s no dallying.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">382</span> +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Well, Sir, I have finish’d the Great Work.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I wish you had—<i>Teresia</i>, once you made me hope you did not +hate me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +What says he, <i>Teresia</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +He says, he hopes you do not hate him, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +No, by my Troth, Sir; I feel something for you, I have not felt +before.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Not these Threescore Years, I dare swear—You have too much +Wit, <i>Teresia</i>, to have been only pleas’d with the Embroider’d +Coat, and Gawdy Plume, when still the man’s the same.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +What says he, Embroider’d Coat and Plume?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +He hopes your Ladyship likes him ne’er the worse, for being without +those Fopperies.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Marry do I not, I love not this over-finery in a Husband; those Fellows +that dress, think so well of themselves, they never mind their +Wives.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Are you so dull, <i>Teresia</i>, not to see, this Habit was put on, only +to get an Opportunity to tell you my Passion?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Tell me of his Passion! was it so, alas, good Young Man—Well, +well, I’ll defer your Joys no longer, this Night shall make you happy, +Mr. <i>Twang</i> shall join us, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +A blessed hearing—You see, Charming Maid, how very short a space +there is between this and the hast’ning hour; stand not on Virgin +Niceties, but answer me, our time admits of no Consideration.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +I have not been this Four and Twenty hours a Lover, to need Considering; +as soon as you had my Heart, you had my Consent, and that was the first +moment I saw you at the <i>Basset-Table</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ha! at the Basset-Table!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Yes, I was the frank Youth that lent you Money—but no +more—your Time and Place.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +What are you prating to him there?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">383</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +He doubts your Love, Madam, and I’m confirming it.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Alas, good Gentleman!—anon I’ll convince him—for in the +Ev’ning, Sir, the Priest shall make us one.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ah, Madam, I cou’d wish ’twere not so long defer’d, for sure I love you +like a sighing Swain, and as a Proof of it, I have here prepar’d an +Emblem of my Love in a Dance of Country Lovers, when Passion is +sincere.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Good-lack-a-day, indeed you’re so obliging: But pray let us have the +Dance. +<span class="stagedir"> +Dance.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Very pretty indeed. Come, good Gentleman, don’t droop, don’t droop; +come, hold up your Head—you may be allow’d one kiss +beforehand.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<span class="aside">Kisses her.</span> +Oh, what a pestilential Blast was there! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Come, come, <i>Teresia</i>, come with me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<span class="aside"><ins class="correction" +title="printed with reversed italic and roman type">to +<em>Teresia</em>.</ins></span> I’ll send a Chair to your Back-gate anon, +that shall wait you on the Field-side, and bring you whither I shall +appoint. Get ready instantly.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +And if I fail, may I be eternally damn’d to the Embraces of old Age.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt all but <em>George</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Mirtilla</i>, thus thy Scorn I will out-brave, And let my Father the +kind Cheat forgive;</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p>If I with dexterous charitable care</p> +<p>Ease him of Burdens he wants strength to bear. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit.</span></p> +</div> + + + + +<h3 class="act"><a name="brother_actV" id="brother_actV"> +ACT V.</a></h3> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actV_sceneI" id="brother_actV_sceneI"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene I.</span></a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag54" id="brother_texttag54" +href="#brother_textnote54"><em>Welborn’s</em> Chamber.</a></h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Welborn</em> dressing himself; to him a Footman with a +Letter.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Prithee what became of the Spark that lay with me last Night?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Foot.</span> +I know not, Sir, he ’rose before day—What Letter’s this, Sir? It +lay upon your Toylet. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives <em>Welborn</em> a Letter.</span></p> + +<span class="pagenum">384</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +<i>To the dear Man whose Name I would be glad to know</i>— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Reads.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Hum—a Woman’s Hand— +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Opens it.</span></p> +<p class="continue ital"> +The Lady you saw last <em>Thursday</em> in the <em>Mall</em>, you had in +Bed with you last Night. <em>Adieu</em>.</p> +<p class="continue"> +Oh! dull Divinity of Love! that by no Instinct, no sympathizing Pains or +Pleasure, could instruct my Sense, how near I was to Happiness!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em>, fine.</p> + +<p>—<i>Lejere</i>, behold me here the most unlucky Fellow +breathing. Thou know’st I told thee how I was in love with a young Woman +in the <i>Mall</i>: And this very Night I had this very Woman in my +Arms.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Is this your ill Luck, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +’Sdeath, all the while I took her for a Man: But finding me asleep, she +softly rose; and, by a Light yet burning in my Chamber, she writ this +Billet, and left it on my Table. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives it <em>George</em>, he reads it.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +By all that’s good, <i>Olivia</i>!—And were you very honest, +Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +To my eternal Shame, as chaste as Ice.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What will you say now, <i>Charles</i>, if I bring this Woman to you +again?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Canst thou? Oh, let me kiss thy Lips away.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +For all her Frolick, <i>Charles</i>, she’s very honest, a Fortune, +and of Quality—and were’t not for <i>Olivia</i>, thou shouldst +marry her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +<i>Olivia</i> I ne’er saw, and now ’twill be too late.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Nay then, Sir, I must fight in her Defence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +You fight in her defence! Why, dost thou love her?—By all that’s +good, I will resign her to thee.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +You shall not, Sir; and know she is my Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +<i>Olivia</i> thy Sister!—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Ask no more Questions, but defend your self, if you refuse to marry her; +for her Honour’s mine.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">385</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Were she an Angel, I must love this Woman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Then thou shall have her—Haste, and get a Licence—no +more—trust my Friendship—Go. +<span class="stagedir"> +Exit <em>Welborn</em>.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Olivia</em>.</p> + +<p><i>Olivia</i>, where did you lie last Night?—Nay do not blush, +for you may yet be virtuous.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Virtuous! Not the young Roses in the bud secur’d, nor breaking Morn +ungaz’d at by the Sun, nor falling Snow has more of Purity.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I do believe you; but your dangerous Frolicks will make the World talk +shamefully.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Let <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag55" id="brother_texttag55" href="#brother_textnote55">him</a> talk on, I will +not humour Fools.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No more—here’s <i>Manage</i>—Contrive an Assignation with +<i>Mirtilla</i>; but do not hide again where none may find you. This +done, I’ll tell you more, and make you happy. How now, <i>Manage</i>, is +the Prince stirring?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +He’s in his Dressing-Room, Sir.—This from my Lady, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Slides the Letter into <em>Olivia’s</em> Hand as she passes +out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What have you there, Olivia? +<span class="stagedir"> +Takes the Billet.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +An Assignation from your perjur’d Mistress, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +’Tis well—you must obey the Summons; and wind her up to all the +height of Love; then let her loose to Shame. I’ll bring her Lover in the +height of Dalliance, who, when he sees her Perfidy, will hate her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +And then the lovely Man stands fair for me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Go write an Answer back—and wait her hour.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt severally.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">386</span> +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actV_sceneII" id="brother_actV_sceneII"> +<span class="smallcaps">Scene II.</span></a> +The Dressing-Room. Discovers the <em>Prince</em> at his Toylet, +dressing. Musick and a Song.</h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>George</em>, waits till the Song is ended. The <em>Prince</em> +sees him, comes to him with Joy, and falls about his Neck.</p> + + +<h5>SONG, by Mr. <i>Gildon</i>.<br> +I.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Ah <em>Charmion!</em> shroud those killing Eyes,</p> +<p>That dart th’ extremes of Pleasure,</p> +<p>Else <em>Celidon</em>, though favour’d, dies</p> +<p>As well as him that you despise,</p> +<p>Though with this diff’rent measure:</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr><td> +<p>While lingring Pains drag on his Fate,</p> +<p>Dispatch is all th’ Advantage of my State;</p> +<p>For ah! you hill with Love, as well as Hate.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<h5>II.</h5> + +<div class="song"> +<p>Abate thy Luxury of Charms,</p> +<p>And only Part discover;</p> +<p>Your Tongue, as well as Eyes, <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag56" id="brother_texttag56" href="#brother_textnote56">has</a> Arms</p> +<p>To give a Thousand fatal Harms</p> +<p>To the poor listening Lover:</p> +<p>Thy Beams, like Glorys veil’d shou’d be,</p> +<p>And like the Front of Heav’n, unseen, pass by;</p> +<p>For to behold ’em, in full force, we die.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag57" id="brother_texttag57" +href="#brother_textnote57"><i>Mirtilla</i></a>, O! I faint, I die +with thy Beauty’s Luxury! by Heaven, I’m all Rapture, Love, and Joy: +Such a dear Night, <i>Lejere</i>!—Poets may fancy pressing +Goddesses, on downy Beds of Clouds—But oh, +<i>Lejere</i>!—Those Gods were never half so blest as I!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What pity ’twere to wake you from this Dream.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +It is not in the power of Time nor Age: For even then <i>Mirtilla</i> +will have Charms! Oh, how she speaks! how well she’ll grace a Story!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">387</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +How gay her Wit! how movingly she writes!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I do believe she does. +<span class="stagedir"> +A little seriously.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Would it displease you, should you see a Billet from her?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +That’s as it were directed. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gravely.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +You would not credit what you saw last Night.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Nor wou’d have lost that Night for all the Treasure the vast Ocean +hides.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I wou’d not have a Man, so good and great, be made a Woman’s +Property—There, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him the Billet.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I’ll not believe it her’s; there are a thousand ways to ruin Innocence; +if she be false—she’s damn’d. Confirm me, and of course I shall +despise her. You cure me, when you shew her worth my Scorn.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Will you be rul’d then, and believe it Friendship in me?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I will.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Give her, by Absence, but an Opportunity; feign some Excuse to leave the +Town to day.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +See where she comes—</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Mirtilla</em>.</p> + +<p>Adorn’d with all the beauteous Wonders of her Sex. The Gods of Love +are playing in her Eyes, and give us Wounds from ev’ry graceful Motion. +Ah, my <i>Mirtilla</i>! how shall I support the Absence of a many coming +Hours, that languish, being from thee but a Moment?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +I hope, my Lord, Fate is not so unkind, to let me live without you many +Hours.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Can all this be dissembl’d? +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside to <em>George</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +How much more have I heard? yet all was false.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +I must this Day—this tedious live-long Day, be absent from thy +Sight—but shall be back i’th’ Evening: I’ll leave <i>Lejere</i> to +wait on your Commands.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +<i>Lejere</i> shall ever, Sir, be dear to me—But I’ll +<span class="pagenum">388</span> +retire, and sigh till your Return—that World affords no Pleasure +where you are not.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Do you hear that, Sir? +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Aside to <em>George</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Till Night, thou dearest Blessing of my Life—Adieu. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Mirtilla</em> going out, pulls <em>Lejere</em> by the +Sleeve.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Thou little, mischievous informing Thing, how vainly hast thou lavish’d +out Invention! +<span class="stagedir continue"> +Smiling.</span> +<span class="stagedir">Exit.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +By Heaven, methinks ’twere Sin but to suspect her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Think so; I’ll trouble your Repose no more: I’ve done my Duty, and I +wou’d not see you made a—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Property—Ha—A loath’d convenient Tool—A Woman’s +Implement—’Sdeath! she that off—Loose to the nasty Love of +every Fool, that will be flatter’d, cozen’d, jilted, cuckolded—No +more—I will, unseen, convey my self into the Closet in my +Dressing-Room; ’tis near her Bed—and if I find her +wanton—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +If you find her—the Youth is waiting now that shall convince +you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Where?—Oh, set the happy Slave but in my View, and—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, faith, Sir, be convinc’d before you strike, for fear she jilt you +out of Sense and Reason—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Come to my Closet, from thence we may observe all that passes in her +Chamber; from whence I’ll break upon the perjur’d Fair, like Thunder +from a Cloud, and more destructive.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt.</p> + + +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actV_sceneIII" id="brother_actV_sceneIII"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag58" id="brother_texttag58" +href="#brother_textnote58"><span class="smallcaps">Scene +III.</span></a> +A Chamber. </h4> + +<p class="entrance"> +Draws and discovers <em>Mirtilla</em> and <em>Manage</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Is the Prince gone?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Yes, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Then bring <i>Endimion</i> to me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Man.</span> +Madam, I wish you’d think no more of him; for I foresee, that this Amour +must ruin you. Remember <a class="notes" name="brother_texttag59" id="brother_texttag59" href="#brother_textnote59">you have left</a> a +Husband for the Prince.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">389</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +A Husband! my Drudge, to toil for me, and save me the Expence of careful +Thoughts: My Cloke, my Led-Horse, for Necessity to fill my +Train—no more—but <i>Endimion</i> waits. +<span class="stagedir continue">Exit <em>Manage</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +—There is a native Generosity in me, that checks my Inconstancy to +this great Man; yet I have so much Woman in my Soul, cannot pain my self +to do him Justice—A new desire of humouring my wish, sways +all my Interest, and controuls all my Honour. Why should I lose a +Pleasure for a Promise? since Time, that gives our Youth so short a +Date, may well excuse our needful Perjury.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Manage</em>, and <em>Olivia</em>, she runs and embraces +him.</p> + +<p>—Let the young bashful Maid, unskill’d in Love, deny the +pressing Swain.</p> +<p class="continue"> +Let wither’d Age, who fondly dreams of Virtue, lose the dear +Opportunities of Life.</p> +<p class="continue"> +The coming Hours present themselves to us; and are too nice, not to be +snatch’d when offer’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +So hasty! this disarms me of Excuse. +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Why are thy Eyes bent down? Why dost thou pause?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +So hot!—I must prepare to shew my Sex’s Evidence, if nothing else +will do. +<span class="stagedir"> +Unbuttons her Coat.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +What, not a Word!</p> + +<p>Advance, thou bashful Youth—Love in thy Eyes, and Coward in thy +Heart! The one all Fire, the other too much Ice.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +<em>Prince</em> and <em>George</em> looking out.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Yet stay me, my <i>Lejere</i>, from my hasty Vengeance.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ah, Madam, how are you mistaken! ’Tis not Coldness in +me—but—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +What, Bashfulness!</p> +<p>Oh, Love will lend thee Courage;</p> +<p>This Trembling is the soft Effects of it.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Oh, how vilely she’s mistaken!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">390</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Come to my Bed, and press the Roses down; and lend more sweetness to ’em +than they bring.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +She leading him to her Bed, the <em>Prince</em> enters, with +<em>Lejere</em>, holding his Sword in Hand; he takes hold of +<em>Olivia</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Love—thus I fling thy gaudy Fetters off, and am no more a Slave to +faithless Beauty.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +The <em>Prince</em> holding <em>Olivia</em> by the Bosom of her Coat, +her Breast appears to <em>Mirtilla</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +<a class="comm" name="brother_commtag23" id="brother_commtag23" +href="#brother_commnote23">Ha! what do I see?</a>—Two Female +rising Breasts. By Heav’n, a Woman.—Oh fortunate Mischance! +<span class="stagedir"> +This while <em>George</em> is arguing with the <em>Prince</em> not to +hurt <em>Olivia</em>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No, I will not hurt thee, cease thy trembling.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Oh, Sir, ’twere Sin to hurt the lovely Youth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +No, Madam, since I have taken back my Heart, I can present you with +another Lover. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives <em>Olivia</em> to her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Ha! another Lover!—What means my Prince?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Eternally to leave you to your Frailty.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Can you so easily cancel all your Vows? Then kill me at your Feet, +I do implore it. +<span class="stagedir"> +Kneels and weeps.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Away, I do forgive thee, wretched Woman.—But yet be +gone—lest Love and Rage return, and I should kill you yet with +your young Darling.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Whom mean you, Sir, this lovely Maid?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Maid!—What means she? Sure she cannot know me.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Talk on, false Woman! till thou hast persuaded my Eyes and Ears out of +their native Faculties, I scorn to credit other Evidences.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Try ’em once more, and then repent, and die. +<span class="stagedir"> +Opens <em>Olivia’s</em> Bosom, shews her Breasts.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Ha—By Heav’n, a Woman!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +You that wou’d smile at my suppos’d undoing, present yourself no more +before my Eyes.</p> +<span class="pagenum">391</span> +<div class="verse continue"> +<p>’Twas to perplex you that I feign’d this Passion.</p> +<p>I saw you had your Spies to watch for Mischief, +<span class="stagedir continue">To <em>George</em>.</span></p> +<p>And poison all my Happiness with the Prince.—</p> +</div> +<p class="continue"> +And since I am thought so criminal, I’ll take an everlasting leave of +you. +<span class="stagedir continue">To the <em>Prince</em>.</span> +<p>When I am dead, may she you honour next repay your Tenderness as I +have done—But may she never meet my wretched Fate. +<span class="stagedir"> +She snatches <em>Olivia’s</em> Sword out.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Hold, thou most valu’d Treasure of the World, or turn the pointed Weapon +to my Heart.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +No, I’m false, unworthy of your Love.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Yes, by Heaven. But thou hast jilted him so handsomly, thou’st +vanquish’d all my Rage.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Yes, I am false; false to this Gallant Man,— +<span class="stagedir continue">To <em>George</em>.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +false to my Husband, to my Sex’s Fame; for you more charming, +I alas am perjur’d.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +<i>Lejere</i>, have I then injur’d thee?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +This is the fatal Beauty, Sir, for whom so often you have seen me +languish.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Ah! wouldst thou see me on a Precipice, and not prevent my Danger?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +To mightier Friendship I cou’d all surrender, and silently have born her +Perjuries; but those to you, awaken’d all my Rage: but she has +out-trick’d me, and I beg her Pardon—And to secure her yours, have +lov’d anew, and beg Protection in your Lodgings, Sir, for a young Maid +whom I design to marry.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Command my Life, my Fortune, and my Sword, for the unwilling Injury I +have done thee—And is this the charming, perjur’d Fair, +<i>Mirtilla</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +It is, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Since it is possible that you cou’d cease to love this Gallant Man, whom +I have heard with so much tender Passion tell your Loves, what sacred +Vows had +<span class="pagenum">392</span> +past, and what Endearments, how can I hope from thee a lasting +Faith?—Yet on the Oaths that thou hast sworn to me—by all +thy Hopes of Pardon for thy Perjuries, to ease my panting +Heart—once speak the Truth—Didst thou not take this Woman +for a Man?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +I did—and were she so, I wou’d with Pride own all the Vows I’ve +broke.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Why, this is fair—and though I buy this Knowledge at the vast +Price of all my Repose; yet I must own, ’tis a better Bargain than +chaff’ring of a Heart for feign’d Embraces—Thou hast undone +me—yet must have my Friendship; and ’twill be still some Ease in +this Extreme, to see thee yet repent, and love <i>Lejere</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +No, Sir, this Beauty must be first declining, to make me take up with a +former Lover.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +No, Sir, I have dispos’d my Heart another way; and the first knowledge +of her Falshood cur’d me: Her Marriage I forgave—that thing of +Form—but never could her Fondness to this Youth.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Who’s this Lady, Sir, whose Pardon I must beg?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +My Sister, Sir, who I disguis’d on purpose to be a Guard to this +suspected Fair One.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Welborn</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Ha, she’s there!</p> + +<p>Now every Feature points me out my Conqueress.—Nay, start +not—I have found Thee, thou malicious Charmer, to bring me so +near to Bliss, and not afford me one kind hint.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +And are not you a very dull Fellow, that lov’d and long’d, and had the +Maid so near you, and yet needed a Hint?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Nay, if you conceal’d your precious Talent, how shou’d it profit any +body?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Conceal’d it!—No, Faith, I made a very fair Tender; but you +refus’d it, as not being current Coin.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +But if you most feloniously, and unlawfully deface +<span class="pagenum">393</span> +our Sovereign’s Image, so as it may be as soon taken for the Grand +Signior’s, I may suspect the Metal too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +What say you if I tender it before these lawful Witnesses?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +I’ll take it for good Payment—I <i>Charles +Welborn</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Ha, <i>Welborn</i>! +<span class="stagedir"> +Aside.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Take thee—whom?—Gad, if the Parson of the Parish knew your +Name no better than I—’twill be but a blind Bargain.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +<i>Olivia Marteen</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +My destin’d Wife!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +The very same: Have you the Parson ready?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +He waits in my Chamber.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Oliv.</span> +Madam, I beg you’ll lend me something more becoming my Sex.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +<i>Manage</i> will furnish you from my Wardrobe. +<span class="stagedir"> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag60" id="brother_texttag60" +href="#brother_textnote60">Exit <em>Olivia</em> with +<em>Manage</em>.</a></span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Teresia</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And see my good Genius appears too.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +See, Sir, I am resolv’d to be welcome to your Arms; look, here are the +Writings of the Estate my Grandfather left me, and here’s three thousand +Pound my Grandmother has settled on me, upon her Marriage with you. +<span class="stagedir"> +Gives him the Writings.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +And here’s my Father’s Estate settled on me—Come, let’s put them +together—and go in, and let the Parson do as much for us. +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts ’em in her Case.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +But have you very well considered this Matter?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Teresia, we’ll do like most Couples, marry first, and consider +afterwards— +<span class="stagedir"> +Leads her in.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter a Footman.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Foot.</span> +Sir, here’s Sir <i>Merlin</i>, with a Lady mask’d, wou’d speak with +you.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Wel.</span> +Carry ’em into the Dining-Room, I’ll wait on ’em anon.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Exeunt <em>Omnes</em>.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum">394</span> +<h4 class="scene"> +<a name="brother_actV_sceneIV" id="brother_actV_sceneIV"> </a> +<a class="notes" name="brother_texttag61" id="brother_texttag61" +href="#brother_textnote61"><span class="smallcaps">Scene +IV.</span></a> +My Lady <em>Youthly’s</em>; Discovers her, and <em>Lettice</em> dressing +her. </h4> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Hold the Glass higher, <i>Lettice</i>; is not <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag24" id="brother_commtag24" href="#brother_commnote24">this Tour</a> too brown?—Methinks it does +not give a youthful Aire to my Face.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lett.</span> +That’s not in Nature.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Like Nature! Ay, but Nature’s self wants Art, nor does this <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag25" id="brother_commtag25" href="#brother_commnote25">Fontange</a> suit with my Complexion—put on +a little more red, <i>Lettice</i>, on my Cheeks, and Lips. +<span class="stagedir"> +She does so.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Lett.</span> +Ay, for they are but a little too much upon the <a class="comm" name="brother_commtag26" id="brother_commtag26" href="#brother_commnote26"><i>Coventry</i>-Blue</a>—This Tour must come +more forward, Madam, to hide the Wrinkles at the corners of your +Eyes— +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls it.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Ay, <i>Lettice</i>, but there are others, that neither Tours, nor Paint, +nor Patches will hide, I fear—yet altogether, +<i>Lettice</i>— +<span class="stagedir"> +Puts on her Spectacles, and looks in the Glass.</span></p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter <em>Sir Rowland</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What, no Bride yet, nor Bridegroom?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Ay, what can be the meaning of this?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +But <i>Teresia</i>, Madam, where can she be gadding?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +Why, <i>Lettice</i> tells me, she went to buy some Trifles to adorn her +this Night—Her Governante is with her, and my Steward.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Mr. <em>Twang</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Twang.</span> +Alas, what pity ’tis; the Supper is quite spoil’d, and no Bridegroom +come!</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +A Noise of hallowing without, and Musick.</p> + +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Lady <em>Blunder</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Bless us! Here’s a whole Regiment of Liveries, Coaches, and Flambeaux at +the Door! the Fops of the Town have heard of a Wedding, and are come in +Masquerade.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">395</span> +<p class="entrance"> +Enter Musick playing; after them, Prince <em>Frederick</em>, leading +<em>Mirtilla</em>, <em>George</em> leading <em>Teresia</em>; Sir +<em>Merlin</em>, <em>Diana</em>; Mrs. <em>Manage</em>, <em>Britton</em>; +Pages, and Footmen, all in Masquerade. Sir <em>Morgan</em> comes in, all +in Mourning; <em>Welborn</em>, and <em>Olivia</em>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Hearing of a high Wedding, Sir, we made bold (as the saying is) to give +you Joy. Sir, are not you the Bridegroom?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +Where’s your Bride, Sir? Ha! ha! ha!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ay, ay, where’s your Bride?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What’s that to you, <i>Sir</i> Coxcomb?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Hum—how the devil came he to know me now?—Is this reverend +Gentlewoman your Lady, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Ounds, they come to mock us!—Hark ye, hark ye, <a class="comm" +name="brother_commtag27" id="brother_commtag27" href="#brother_commnote27">Tawdrums</a>, if you are Men, shew your Faces; if +Apes, play over your Monkey-Tricks and be gone, d’ye hear.—We are +not at leisure for Fooling.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Be but at leisure, Sir, to pardon +<span class="stagedir continue"> +<em>George</em> kneels.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +this one Disobedience of my Life, and all the rest I’ll dedicate to +please and humour you. Sir, I am marry’d. +<span class="stagedir"> +Pulls off his Mask.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +What the Devil’s that to me, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Do not you know me, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +No, Sir, nor don’t care to know any such flaunting Coxcombs.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Look on me, Sir. +<span class="stagedir"> +Looks on him, knows him, goes away, and returns.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Hum, hum, hum—</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Ter.</span> +It is your Son, Sir, your darling Son, who has sav’d your Life from +Insolence.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Hum—<i>Teresia</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Youth.</span> +How, <i>Teresia</i>! what, robb’d me of my intended Husband? Oh, undone! +undone! +<span class="stagedir"> +Falls into a Chair.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +And hast thou, after all, served me such a Rogue’s Trick, thou +ungracious Varlet? What, cuckold thine own Father!</p> + +<span class="pagenum">396</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Oh, do not frown, I cannot bear your Anger! Here will I hang for ever +till you Pardon me. +<span class="stagedir"> +Clasps his Knees.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Look—look—now cannot I be angry with the good-natur’d young +Rogue. +<span class="stagedir continue">Weeps.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +Well, <i>George</i>—But hark ye, Sirrah, this is a damn’d Trick of +yours.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Sir, I found my Youth was fitter for her than your Age, and you’ll be as +fond of a Grand-Child of my begetting as you would of a Son of another +Man’s perhaps.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Thou’rt in the Right on’t.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Mer.</span> +Ha! Is Monsieur <i>Lejere</i> then my Brother <i>George</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +Sir, Here’s another Couple wants your Pardon; my Brother <i>Merlin</i>, +and my Lady <i>Diana</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +<i>Diana</i>! What, Sir <i>Harry Modish’s</i> Mistress?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Dia.</span> +Yes, he pawn’d me at the <i>Basset-Table</i>; and, in Revenge, +I resolv’d to marry the next Man of Fortune I met with.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +The Fool had more Wit than I thought he had; for which I’ll give him a +Thousand Pound a Year.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +I humbly thank you, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +Pray, Melancholy Sir, who are you in Mourning for?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Alas, Madam, for a Person of Quality that was my Wife; but rest her +Soul, she’s burnt. +<span class="stagedir continue">Weeps.</span></p> +<p class="continue"> +And I shall never see any thing again like her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Mir.</span> +No! What think you of this Face, Sir?</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +As Gad shall sa’ me, as like as if the same.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +In troth, and so she is.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +’Tis true, she was once your Wife; but I have preserv’d her from the +Flames, and I have most Right to her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +That’s a hard Case, Sir, that a Man must lose his Wife, because another +has more Right to her than himself; Is that Law, Sir?</p> + +<span class="pagenum">397</span> +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +Lover’s Law, Sir.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">L. Blun.</span> +Ay, ay, Son, ’tis the Fashion to marry one Week, and separate the next. +I’ll set you a President for it my self.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +In this time <em>Welborn</em> kneels with <em>Olivia</em>; <em>Sir +Rowland</em> takes ’em up, and kisses ’em.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +Nay, if it be the Fashion, I’ll e’en into the Country, and be merry with +my Tenants, and Hawk, and Hunt, and Horse-match.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Prince.</span> +But now, Sir, I’ll resign my Right to you, and content myself with the +Honour to have preserv’d her from the Fire. +<span class="stagedir"> +<em>Prince</em> delivers <em>Mirtilla</em> to Sir <em>Morgan</em>, who +receives her.</span></p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Morg.</span> +As gad shall sa’ me, Sir, you’re a civil Person; and now I find you can +endure a Woman, Sir, I’ll give you leave to visit her.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Sir Row.</span> +Well, since we’re all agreed, and that the Fiddles are here, adsnigs, +we’ll have a Dance, Sweet-heart, though thou hast out-witted me.</p> + +<p class="stagedir"> +Takes <em>Teresia</em>, <em>George</em> takes Lady <em>Youthly</em>, +&c. After the Dance, Lady <em>Youthly</em> weeps.</p> + +<p><span class="speaker">Geo.</span> +What, weeping yet? Here, Mr. <i>Twang</i>, take the Lady to your Care; +in these Cases, there’s nothing like the Consolation of your young +Chaplain.</p> + +<div class="song plain"> +<p>The Widow, with young Jointure, and old Face,</p> +<p>Affected Mein, and Amorous Grimace,</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr><td> +<p>Uses to fall to th’ younger Brother’s share;</p> +<p>But I by Fortune, and Industrious Care,</p> +<p>Have got one that’s Rich, Witty, Young, and Fair.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<h5 class="extended"><i>FINIS.</i></h5> + + + + +<span class="pagenum">398</span> +<h4><a name="brother_epi" id="brother_epi">EPILOGUE.</a></h4> + +<p class="center">Spoken by Mr. <i>Horden</i>.</p> + +<div class="song"> +<p><span class="firstword">We’ve</span> grown Impatient to be out of +pain,</p> +<p>And fain wou’d know our fortune, loss, or gain:</p> +<p>The Merchants phrase mayn’t be Improper now,</p> +<p>If ye our City Character allow.</p> +<p>But some Spruse Criticks, I hear, swears ’tis strange,</p> +<p>To take a powder’d Beau off from the Exchange;</p> +<p>A place more fam’d for Band, and dress precise,</p> +<p>For greasy Cuckholds, Stockjobbers, and lies,</p> +<p>Than for a Spark o’ th’ town, but now a days</p> +<p>The Cit sets up in box, puffs, perfumes, plays,</p> +<p>And tho’ he passes for a Man of Trade,</p> +<p>Is the chief squeaker at the Masquerade,</p> +<p>Let him his Sister, or his wife beware,</p> +<p>’Tis not for nothing Courtiers go so far;</p> +<p>Thus for a while he holds, till Cash is found</p> +<p>To be a Dr. many a woful Pound,</p> +<p>Then off he moves, and in another year,</p> +<p>Turns true Alsatian, or Solicitor.</p> +<p>For we (except o’ th’ stage) shall seldom find</p> +<p>To a poor broken Beau, a Lady kind,</p> +<p>Whilst pow’rful <em>Guinea</em> last, he’s wondrous pretty,</p> +<p>And much the finest Gentlemen o’ th’ City,</p> +<p>But when fob’s empty, he’s an odious Creature.</p> +<p><a class="notes" name="brother_texttag62" id="brother_texttag62" href="#brother_textnote62">Fough, how he +stinks!</a> h’as not one taking feature,</p> +<p>Then such an Awkard mein, and vulgar sence,</p> +<p>I vow, I wonder at his Impudence!</p> +<p>’Tis well <em>Lejere</em> appear’d, <em>George</em> owes the +prize</p> +<p>To the Gay Monsieur, Footmen and Disguise,</p> +<span class="pagenum">399</span> +<p>Charms which few English Women can withstand,</p> +<p>What can’t a Man of Quality command?</p> +<table class="triplet" summary="triplet"> +<tr><td> +<p>As to the faults, or Merits of the Play</p> +<p>We leave ye to be judges of, yet say,</p> +<p>Ye ought in justice to be kind to day.</p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td> +<p>For to our Cost alas, we soon shall find,</p> +<p>Perhaps not half the money ye design’d,</p> +<p>Consider, Sirs, it goes to be refin’d.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +<p>And since in all Exchanges ’tis a notion,</p> +<p>For what ye take to be in due proportion,</p> +<p>So may we justly hope no wrong is done ye</p> +<p>If ye have <em>par of Wit for par of Money</em>.</p> +</div> + +</div> <!-- end div play --> + + +<div class="textnote"> + +<h4><a name="brother_notes" id="brother_notes">Notes on the +Text.</a></h4> + +<span class="pagenum notes">409</span> + +<h5 class="smallcaps">The Younger Brother.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dedication</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote1" id="brother_textnote1" href="#brother_texttag1">p. 316, l. 1</a> +<i>The Epistle Dedicatory.</i> This only appears in 4to 1696. It is +there followed by <i>An Account of the Life of the Incomparable Mrs. +BEHN</i>, an entirely worthless composition of some three pages, +afterwards vastly expanded into <i>Memoirs</i> ‘by one of the Fair +Sex’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote2" id="brother_textnote2" href="#brother_texttag2">p. 316, l. 21</a> +<i>The narrow Virtues ... [which] were.</i> 4to 1696 omits ‘which’ but +it is necessary that this or some similar word be inserted to make the +paragraph sufficiently grammatical.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Prologue</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote3" id="brother_textnote3" href="#brother_texttag3">p. 319, l. 9</a> +<i>an Intriguer.</i> 4to 1696 ‘the intrigues’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote4" id="brother_textnote4" href="#brother_texttag4">p. 319, l. 17</a> +<i>Mistress young.</i> 4to 1696 erroneously gives ‘young’ as a proper +name ‘Mistress Young’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dramatis Personæ</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote5" id="brother_textnote5" href="#brother_texttag5">p. 321</a> +<i>Dramatis Personæ.</i> I have added ‘Philip; Diana; Pages, Footmen, +Masqueraders, Servants, Rakehells, &c.’ 4to 1696 spells Britton +‘Brittone’; Mr. Pinketham ‘Mr. Pinkerman.’ Powell is indifferently spelt +‘Powell’ or ‘Powel’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote6" id="brother_textnote6" href="#brother_texttag6">p. 327, l. 2</a> +<i>he.</i> 4to 1696 omits.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote7" id="brother_textnote7" href="#brother_texttag7">p. 327, l. 7</a> +<i>Prince.</i> Here and in ll. 11 and 19 all former editions give +speech-prefix ‘Fred’, but afterwards uniformly ‘Prince’ throughout the +play.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote8" id="brother_textnote8" href="#brother_texttag8">p. 329, l. 31</a> +<i>a.</i> 4to 1696 omits.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote9" id="brother_textnote9" href="#brother_texttag9">p. 329, l. 34</a> +<i>Tablets</i>: 4to 1696 gives ‘Tablets write:’ which is obviously a +misprint for ‘Tablets written:’ or, perhaps, ‘Tablets writ’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote10" id="brother_textnote10" href="#brother_texttag10">p. 330, l. 23</a> +<i>Caudle.</i> Here, and in the following line, 4to 1696 misprints +‘Candle’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote11" id="brother_textnote11" href="#brother_texttag11">p. 332, l. 22</a> +<i>set.</i> 1724 ‘sit’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote12" id="brother_textnote12" href="#brother_texttag12">p. 337, l. 7</a> +<i>Sir Mer.</i> 4to 1696 misprints ‘Sir Mark.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote13" id="brother_textnote13" href="#brother_texttag13">p. 337, l. 19</a> +<i>George Kneels.</i> I have inserted ‘George’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote14" id="brother_textnote14" href="#brother_texttag14">p. 337, l. 20</a> +<i>Ay, Sir.</i> 4to 1696 marks this line ‘Aside.’ An obvious error.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote15" id="brother_textnote15" href="#brother_texttag15">p. <ins class="correction" title="text reads ‘331’">338</ins>, l. 10</a> +<i>Sir Rowland.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Sir Merlin’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote16" id="brother_textnote16" href="#brother_texttag16">p. 338, l. 16</a> +<i>Chaplain [Mr. Twang], and leaning.</i> 4to 1696 ‘her Chaplain, and +leaning’. I have inserted Twang’s name and given in <a href="#brother_texttag16a">l. 19</a> speech-prefix ‘Twang’ which all +former editions mark ‘Chap.’, altering, however, to ‘Twang’ later in +this scene at ‘Truly, Madam’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote17" id="brother_textnote17" href="#brother_texttag17">p. 339, l. 20</a> +<i>cuckold.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Cuckhold’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote18" id="brother_textnote18" href="#brother_texttag18">p. 339, l. 34</a> +<i>The End of the First Act.</i> Only in 4to 1696.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote19" id="brother_textnote19" href="#brother_texttag19">p. 340, l. 2</a> +<i>Sir Rowland’s Lodging.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote20" id="brother_textnote20" href="#brother_texttag20">p. 340, l. 29</a> +<i>Lookye.</i> 4to 1696 has ‘(Alone.) Lookye’—an obvious error. +‘(Alone.)’ is probably a misprint for ‘(Aloud.)’ which is of itself +quite unnecessary.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote21" id="brother_textnote21" href="#brother_texttag21">p. 341, l. 13</a> +<i>Hearts.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Heats’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote22" id="brother_textnote22" href="#brother_texttag22">p. 342, l. 3</a> +<i>’twill.</i> 4to 1696 ‘will’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote23" id="brother_textnote23" href="#brother_texttag23">p. 342, l. 19</a> +<i>India.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Indian’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote24" id="brother_textnote24" href="#brother_texttag24">p. 343, l. 13</a> +<i>A Chamber.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote25" id="brother_textnote25" href="#brother_texttag25">p. 346, l. 17</a> +<i>Hackney-Coach.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Hackney’.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">410</span> +<p><a name="brother_textnote26" id="brother_textnote26" href="#brother_texttag26">p. 346, l. 31</a> +<i>pimp.</i> 4to 1696 misprints ‘Pump’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote27" id="brother_textnote27" href="#brother_texttag27">p. 348, l. 8</a> +<i>they.</i> 4to 1696 omits.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote28" id="brother_textnote28" href="#brother_texttag28">p. 349, l. 29</a> +<i>Sir Morgan Blunder’s.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Sir M. Blun.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote29" id="brother_textnote29" href="#brother_texttag29">p. 350, l. 24</a> +<i>Another Chamber.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote30" id="brother_textnote30" href="#brother_texttag30">p. 351, l. 10</a> +<i>another.</i> 4to 1696 adds to this stage direction ‘Sir Mer. +together.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote31" id="brother_textnote31" href="#brother_texttag31">p. 352, l. 7</a> +<i>a Tendre.</i> 1724 omits ‘a’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote32" id="brother_textnote32" href="#brother_texttag32">p. 353, l. 11</a> +<i>too.</i> 4to 1696 ‘to’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote33" id="brother_textnote33" href="#brother_texttag33">p. 354, l. 2</a> +<i>A rich Chamber.</i> I have supplied this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote34" id="brother_textnote34" href="#brother_texttag34">p. 358, l. 4</a> +<i>Expectations.</i> 1724 ‘Expectation’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote35" id="brother_textnote35" href="#brother_texttag35">p. 358, l. 34</a> +<i>Olivia enters.</i> 4to 1696 reads ‘Enter Olivia with a letter. Olivia +gives Welborn the letter.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote36" id="brother_textnote36" href="#brother_texttag36">p. 359, l. 33</a> +<i>Enter Sir Morgan.</i> Before the couplet 4to 1696 repeats ‘Sir Morg. +and Sir Merl. singing.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote37" id="brother_textnote37" href="#brother_texttag37">p. 360, l. 10</a> +<i>de.</i> 1724 here and elsewhere ‘d’ye’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote38" id="brother_textnote38" href="#brother_texttag38">p. 362, l. 18</a> +<i>you.</i> 4to 1696 ‘thou’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote39" id="brother_textnote39" href="#brother_texttag39">p. 363, l. 17</a> +<i>Whither?</i> 4to 1696 ‘Whether?’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote40" id="brother_textnote40" href="#brother_texttag40">p. 367, l. 26</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> I have added this stage direction.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote41" id="brother_textnote41" href="#brother_texttag41">p. 370, l. 30</a> +<i>Exit Prince with Mirtilla.</i> Former editions ‘and Mirtilla’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote42" id="brother_textnote42" href="#brother_texttag42">p. 371, l. 14</a> +<i>Exit.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Exit George.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote43" id="brother_textnote43" href="#brother_texttag43">p. 373, l. 15</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Exit both.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote44" id="brother_textnote44" href="#brother_texttag44">p. 373, l. 23</a> +<i>of thy hopes.</i> 4to 1696 omits ‘of’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote45" id="brother_textnote45" href="#brother_texttag45">p. 373, l. 32</a> +<i>ruffle, ravish, and ruin.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Ruffles, Ravishes, and +Ruines’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote46" id="brother_textnote46" href="#brother_texttag46">p. 374, l. 8</a> +<i>Racks.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Wrecks’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote47" id="brother_textnote47" href="#brother_texttag47">p. 374, l. 35</a> +<i>feebly.</i> 1724 ‘freely’. A patent error.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote48" id="brother_textnote48" href="#brother_texttag48">p. 375, l. 4</a> +<i>near to being.</i> 1724 ‘near being’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote49" id="brother_textnote49" href="#brother_texttag49">p. 375, l. 33</a> +<i>Exeunt.</i> Not in 4to 1696.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote50" id="brother_textnote50" href="#brother_texttag50">p. 376, l. 1</a> +<i>Scene II.</i> I have numbered this scene, and the following +(p. 378, l. 16.) <a href="#brother_texttag50a">Scene +III</a>.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I:V Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote51" id="brother_textnote51" href="#brother_texttag51">p. 379, l. 33</a> +<i>Sir Merlin with his Sword.</i> 4to 1696 ‘Sir Merlin his Sword’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote52" id="brother_textnote52" href="#brother_texttag52">p. 380, l. 19</a> +<i>she cries out.</i> 1724 omits ‘out’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote53" id="brother_textnote53" href="#brother_texttag53">p. 381, l. 17</a> +<i>My Lady’s maid.</i> I have inserted these words.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote54" id="brother_textnote54" href="#brother_texttag54">p. 383, l. 27</a> +<i>Welborn’s Chamber.</i> I have marked this locale.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote55" id="brother_textnote55" href="#brother_texttag55">p. 385, l. 13</a> +<i>him.</i> 1724 ‘them’.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote56" id="brother_textnote56" href="#brother_texttag56">p. 386, l. 18</a> +<i>has.</i> 4to 1696 ‘had’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote57" id="brother_textnote57" href="#brother_texttag57">p. 386, l. 24</a> +<i>Mirtilla.</i> All previous editions here have ‘Lydia’, which makes no +sense. It is probable that the original name of Mirtilla was Lydia, and +Mrs. Behn, or Gildon, neglected to alter it in this passage.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote58" id="brother_textnote58" href="#brother_texttag58">p. 388, l. 28</a> +<i>Scene III.</i> All previous editions have ‘Scene discovers Mirtilla +and Manage.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote59" id="brother_textnote59" href="#brother_texttag59">p. 388, l. 35</a> +<i>you have left.</i> 1724 ‘you left’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote60" id="brother_textnote60" href="#brother_texttag60">p. 393, l. 17</a> +<i>Exit Olivia with Manage.</i> I have added Manage’s name here.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote61" id="brother_textnote61" href="#brother_texttag61">p. 394, l. 1</a> +<i>Scene IV.</i> I have numbered this scene.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Epilogue</p> + +<p><a name="brother_textnote62" id="brother_textnote62" href="#brother_texttag62">p. 398, l. 26</a> +<i>Fough, how he stinks!</i> 4to 1696 ‘Fough, he how he stinks?’</p> + + +<span class="pagenum notes">419</span> + +<h4>Notes: Critical And Explanatory.</h4> + + +<h5 class="smallcaps">The Younger Brother.</h5> + +<p class="notehead"> +Dedication</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote1" id="brother_commnote1" href="#brother_commtag1">p. 316</a> +<i>Collonel Codrington.</i> Christopher Codrington (1668-1710) was born +at Barbadoes, and thence sent to England to be educated. In 1685 he +passed as a gentleman commoner to Christ Church, Oxford. Five years +later he was elected as a probationer fellow to All Souls. Here he +speedily became known for the catholicity and thoroughness of his +studies, and ‘soon acquir’d the deserv’d character of an accomplished, +well-bred gentleman, and an universal scholar’. He was already an +enthusiastic bibliophile. In 1694 he followed William III to Flanders, +and having fought with great gallantry at Hay and Namur in 1695, +received various military distinctions. In the same year he attended the +King to Oxford, and pronounced the university oration on this royal +visit. There are dedications to him by Creech, Dennis, and others, but +it has been pertinently remarked that ‘his fame is rather to be +inferred’ hence ‘than from actually existent performances on his part’, +albeit we have copies of complimentary verses (e.g. prefixed to Garth’s +<i>Dispensary</i>) from his pen. In 1697 he succeeded his father as +commander-in-chief of the Leeward Isles. He does not seem to have been +popular, and resigned in 1703, retiring to a life of seclusion and study +on his Barbadoes estate. He died 7 April, 1710, and his body was brought +back to England to be buried in All Souls’ chapel. To this college he +left £10,000, and £6,000 worth of books, a legacy which built, +furnished and endowed the magnificent Codrington library there.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote2" id="brother_commnote2" href="#brother_commtag2">p. 317</a> +<i>Mr. Verbruggen’s reading some of his part.</i> One may remember the +incident recorded by Pepys (2 February, 1669), how, after Kynaston +had been assaulted by Sedley’s bravos, and was too ill to appear, the +young actor’s rôle was ‘done by Beeston, who is fain to read it out of a +book all the while and thereby spoils the part, and almost the play, it +being one of the best parts in it.... But it was pleasant to see Beeston +come in with others, supposing it to be dark, and yet he is forced to +read his part by the light of the candles: and this I observing to a +gentleman that sat by me, he was mightily pleased therewith, and spread +it up and down.’</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Prologue</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote3" id="brother_commnote3" href="#brother_commtag3">p. 319</a> +<i>grave Sir Roger.</i> ‘Sir Roger’ was a common nickname for any +clergyman from the well-known comic character ‘Sir Roger, Curate to the +<span class="pagenum notes">420</span> +Lady’, in Beaumont and Fletcher’s popular <i>The Scornful Lady</i>. This +excellent play, a rare favourite with Restoration audiences, kept +the boards until the death of Mrs. Oldfield in 1730. After the great +actress’ demise it would seem that none of her successors ventured to +attempt the title-rôle, hence the piece soon fell out of the repertory. +In 1783, however, an alteration, made by Cooke the barrister for Mrs. +Abington, was produced with great success at Covent Garden. In this +meagre adaptation the Curate disappears. Shanks originally acted this +part, but Lacy was the acknowledged ‘Sir Roger’ in Restoration days.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote4" id="brother_commnote4" href="#brother_commtag4">p. 326</a> +<i>making Wax Babies.</i> Playing at dolls.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote5" id="brother_commnote5" href="#brother_commtag5">p. 330</a> +<i>Southampton Square.</i> The original name of Bloomsbury Square, so +called from the Earl of Southampton’s town residence, afterwards Bedford +House. Southampton Square was at this period, and for long afterwards, +the headquarters of fashion in the metropolis: <i>vide</i> further, Vol. +III, <i>The Town Fop</i>, p. 22, ‘Southampton House,’ and note on +that passage (p. 476). +<a class="crossref" href="#brother_crossref5"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The Town Fop</i></a></p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act I: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote6" id="brother_commnote6" href="#brother_commtag6">p. 331</a> +<i>Mr. Motteux.</i> Peter Anthony Motteux was a French Hugenot who came +to England upon the restoration of the Edict of Nantes (1685). He soon +mixed with the gayest society, and became well known as a prolific +writer of songs, prologues, epilogues, masques, and the lighter dramatic +fare. Much of this work is not lacking in wit and volatile smartness, +but it is all far too ephemeral to have any permanent value as +literature. He edited <i>The Gentleman’s Journal</i>, but is perhaps +best remembered for his translation of <i>Don Quixote</i>, and his +concluding Urquhart’s version of Rabelais.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote7" id="brother_commnote7" href="#brother_commtag7">p. 331</a> +<i>the Rose.</i> This celebrated house stood in Russell Street, Covent +Garden, and adjoined Drury Lane. There are innumerable references to it. +The greater portion of the ‘Rose’ was demolished in 1776, when a new +front was being built to the theatre.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote8" id="brother_commnote8" href="#brother_commtag8">p. 331</a> +<i>scours.</i> i.e. violently assaults. ‘To scour’ was to rampage the +streets, breaking windows, fighting with passers-by, beating the watch, +&c. Shadwell has an excellent comedy, <i>The Scowrers</i> (1691), +which, giving a vivid picture of the times, show these drunken and +blackguardly gentry in a very unamiable light. Several plays treat of +their exploits. Vanbrugh’s <i>The Provoked Wife</i> (1696), Act iii, +<span class="smallroman">II</span>, and iv, <span class="smallroman">II</span> and <span class="smallroman">IV</span>, is +perhaps the locus <ins class="correction" title="text unchanged: usual term is ‘classicus’">classical</ins> for mohocking.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote9" id="brother_commnote9" href="#brother_commtag9">p. 333</a> +<i>the Poet Sternhold.</i> Thomas Sternhold (<i>ob.</i> 1549), was the +author with John Hopkins (<i>ob.</i> 1570), of a metrical version of the +Psalms, which became a bye-word for doggerel. Sir Morgan is, of course, +alluding to some pious rhymes groaned on the way to the triple tree. cf. +Shadwell, <i>The Miser</i> (1672), i, <span class="smallroman">I</span>, ‘She would be more welcome to thee than a +reprieve would, if thou wert just now trolling out Hopkins and Sternhold +upon a ladder.’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote10" id="brother_commnote10" href="#brother_commtag10">p. 333</a> +<i>Billmen in Flannel.</i> Bills were the common weapon of the watch. +cf. <i>The Coxcomb</i> (folio 1647), Act i, where Ricardo says to the +constable of the watch, ‘Give me the bill, for I’ll be the sergeant.’ +Doctor Johnson tells us that the Lichfield watchmen carried bills as +late as 1778.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote11" id="brother_commnote11" href="#brother_commtag11">p. 333</a> +<i><ins class="correction" title="body text has ‘Will’s’">Wills’</ins> Coffee-house. vide</i> Vol. III, Preface, <i>The +Lucky Chance</i>, p. 187, and note on that passage (p. 484). +<a class="crossref" href="#brother_crossref11"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The Lucky Chance</i></a></p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">421</span> +<p><a name="brother_commnote12" id="brother_commnote12" href="#brother_commtag12">p. 334</a> +<i>his Third Day. vide</i> Vol. III, Preface, <i>The Lucky Chance</i>, +p. 187, and note on that passage (p. 484). +<a class="crossref" href="#brother_crossref12"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The Lucky Chance</i></a></p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote13" id="brother_commnote13" href="#brother_commtag13">p. 334</a> +<i>old Adam. vide</i> Vol. I, <i>The Rover</i>, Part II, p. 133, +and note on that passage (p. 446). +<a class="crossref" href="#brother_crossref13"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The Rover</i></a></p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote14" id="brother_commnote14" href="#brother_commtag14">p. 334</a> +<i>The Country Justice’s Calling. vide supra</i>, <i>The Widow +Ranter</i>, p. 265. <i>Dalton’s Country Justice</i>, and <a href="#widow_commnote23">note</a> on that passage.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote15" id="brother_commnote15" href="#brother_commtag15">p. 341</a> +<i>by Inch of Candle.</i> An auction where bids are taken so long as an +inch of candle burns, the last bid before the flame expires obtaining +the lot.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote16" id="brother_commnote16" href="#brother_commtag16">p. 342</a> +<i>a Termer.</i> Originally a frequenter of the law courts, and as many +came up from the country to London during term time on legal business, +it occasionally (as here) signified an unsophisticated stranger. In +Dryden’s <i>Sir Martin Mar-All</i> (1667), i, Mrs. Millicent, newly +arrived from Canterbury, replies to Lady Dupe’s greeting, ‘I came up, +Madam, as we country-gentlewomen use at an Easter term, to the +destruction of tarts and cheese cakes, to see a new play, buy a new +gown, take a turn in the Park, and so down again to sleep with my +forefathers.’ In Mountford’s farce, <i>Dr. Faustus</i> (4to 1697, but +produced at the Theatre Royal November-December, 1685, or very early in +1686), we have Scaramouch asking what practice the Doctor has, and +Harlequin replies: ‘Why his Business is to patch up rotten Whores +against the Term for Country Lawyers and Attorneys Clerks; and against +<i>Christmas</i>, <i>Easter</i>, and <i>Whitsun</i> Holidays, for City +Apprentices.’ cf. Southerne’s <i>Oroonoko</i> (1696), i, <span class="smallroman">I</span>, when Charlot Welldon says to her sister Lucia, +‘Nay, the young Inns-of-Court beaus, of but one Term’s standing in the +fashion, who knew nobody but as they were shown ’em by the orange-women, +had nicknames for us.’ More often a Termer meant ‘A person, whether male +or female, who resorted to London in term time only, for the sake of +tricks to be practised, or intrigues to be carried on at that period.’ +—(Nares.)</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act II: Scene ii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote17" id="brother_commnote17" href="#brother_commtag17">p. 347</a> +<i>Sa.</i> i.e. Save us! Sir Morgan has a frequent exclamation ‘God sa +me!’ God save me! The abbreviation is early and frequent.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene i</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote18" id="brother_commnote18" href="#brother_commtag18">p. 356</a> +<i>the Country of True Love.</i> Mrs. Behn, an omnivorous reader of +romances, was thinking of the celebrated <i>Carte de Tendre</i> +(Loveland), to be found in Mlle. de Scudéri’s <i>Clélie</i> (1654, Vol. +I, p. 399), and reproduced in the English folio edition of 1678. +This fantastic map, which is said to have been suggested by Chapelain, +aroused unbounded ridicule. In scene <span class="smallroman">IV</span> of Molière’s <i>Les Précieuses Ridicules</i> +(1659), Cathos cries, ‘Je m’en vais gager qu’ils n’ont jamais vu la +carte de Tendre, et que Billets-Doux, Petits-Soins, Billets-Galante, et +Jolis-Vers sont des terres inconnues pour eux.’ This imaginary land is +divided by the River of Inclination: on the one side are the towns of +Respect, Generosity, A Great Heart, and the like; on the other +Constant Friendship, Assiduity, Submission, &c. Across the Dangerous +Sea another continent is marked, ‘Countreys undiscovered.’ <i>Terra +Incognita.</i></p> + +<p>The extravagant penchant for romances of the Scudéri +<i>Parthenissa</i> school was amply satirized by Steele in his clever +comedy <i>The Tender Husband</i> (1705), and as late as 1752 by Mrs. +Charlotte Lennox in <i>The Female Quixote</i>, an amusing novel.</p> + +<span class="pagenum notes">422</span> +<p><a name="brother_commnote19" id="brother_commnote19" href="#brother_commtag19">p. 360</a> +<i>old Queen Bess in the Westminster-Cupboard.</i> The waxen effigies +which yet remain at Westminster are preserved in the wainscot presses +over the Islip Chapel. Queen Elizabeth, in her tattered velvet robes, is +still one of the most famous. They were formerly far more numerous. +A waxen figure of the deceased, dressed in the habit worn whilst +living, was, in the case of any royal or notable personage, very +frequently carried as part of the torchlight funeral procession and, +after the obsequies, left over the grave to serve as a kind of temporary +monument.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act III: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote20" id="brother_commnote20" href="#brother_commtag20">p. 366</a> +<i>drink up the Sun.</i> i.e. carouse till dawn.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act IV: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote21" id="brother_commnote21" href="#brother_commtag21">p. 379</a> +<i>a Back like an Elephant—’twill bear a Castle.</i> Dr. Aldis +Wright, in his notes on <i>Twelfth Night</i>, draws attention to the +fact that the celebrated ‘Elephant and Castle,’ at Newington, in the +south suburbs of London, can be traced back to the middle of the +seventeenth century.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote22" id="brother_commnote22" href="#brother_commtag22">p. 380</a> +<i>Old Queen Gwiniver.</i> For ‘Queen Gwiniver’ applied as a term of +abuse to an old woman cf. Dekker’s <i>Satiromastix, or, The Untrussing +of the Humorous Poet</i> (4to 1602), iii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>, where Tucca rallying Mistress Miniver cries: +‘Now, now, mother Bunch, how dost thou? what, dost frowne, Queen +Gwyniver, dost wrinckle?’ The reference is, of course, to Arthur’s +queen.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iii</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote23" id="brother_commnote23" href="#brother_commtag23">p. 390</a> +<i>Ha! what do I see?</i> cf. The incident in <i>The Plain Dealer</i>, +iv, <span class="smallroman">II</span>, of which there are obvious +reminiscences here. Olivia, making love to Fidelia, who is dressed as a +boy, is surprised by Vernish. Olivia runs out, and he discovering the +supposed lad to be a woman proceeds to turn the tables on his +spouse.</p> + +<p class="notehead"> +Act V: Scene iv</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote24" id="brother_commnote24" href="#brother_commtag24">p. 394</a> +<i>this Tour.</i> cf. ‘your false Towers’, <i>The False Count</i>, i, +<span class="smallroman">II</span> (Vol. III, p. 116), and note +on that passage (p. 480). +<a class="crossref" href="#brother_crossref24"> +Cross-Reference: <i>The False Count</i></a></p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote25" id="brother_commnote25" href="#brother_commtag25">p. 394</a> +<i>Fontange.</i> A ‘fontange’ was a bow of ribbons, so called from the +celebrated Madame de Fontanges. Her hair coming down during a +hunting-party at Vincennes, she tied it up hastily with one of her +garters. Louis XIV, whose mistress she was, so admired the result that +he begged her to continue to wear her hair in the same way. This set the +fashion, which soon spread into England and long remained popular. cf. +Shadwell’s <i>Bury Fair</i> (1689), ii, <span class="smallroman">II</span>: ‘<i>Milliner.</i> What d’ye lack, Ladies? fine +Mazarine hoods, fontanges, girdles, sable tippets?’</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote26" id="brother_commnote26" href="#brother_commtag26">p. 394</a> +<i>Coventry-Blue.</i> A kind of blue thread manufactured at Coventry and +formerly much used for embroidery, &c. cf. Greene’s <i>James IV</i> +(1592), iv, <span class="smallroman">III</span>, where Slipper +ordering a doublet cries: ‘Edge me the sleeves with Coventry blue.’ Ben +Jonson, <i>Gipsies Metamorph.</i> (1621), speaks of ‘A skein of Coventry +blue’.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_commnote27" id="brother_commnote27" href="#brother_commtag27">p. 395</a> +<i>Tawdrums.</i> Fal-lals. cf. Marston’s <i>Dutch Courtezan</i> (4to +1605), v, ‘no matter for lace and tawdrums’.</p> + +</div> +<!-- end div textnote --> + +<div class="endnote"> +<h4>Cross-References</h4> + +<p><a name="brother_crossref5" id="brother_crossref5" href="#brother_commnote5">Note to p. 330</a>: +<i>Southampton Square.</i></p> + +<p><i>Town Fop</i> text:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +meet me to morrow Morning about five, with your Sword in your Hand, +behind <i>Southampton</i> House</p> + +<p><i>Town Fop</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>Southampton House</i>. Southampton House, Bloomsbury, occupied +the whole of the north side of the present Bloomsbury Square. It had +‘a curious garden behind, which lieth open to the +fields,’—<i>Strype</i>. A great rendezvous for duellists, cf. +Epilogue to Mountfort’s <i>Greenwich Park</i> (Drury Lane, 1691) spoken +by Mrs. Mountfort:—</p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>If you’re displeased with what you’ve seen to-night</p> +<p>Behind Southampton House we’ll do you right;</p> +<p>Who is’t dares draw ’gainst me and Mrs. Knight?</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="brother_crossref11" id="brother_crossref11" href="#brother_commnote11">Note to p. 333</a>: +<i>Wills’ Coffee-house.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> text:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +a Wit of the Town, a Friend of mine at Wills Coffee House</p> + +<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>Wills Coffee House</i>. This famous coffee-house was No. 1 Bow +Street, Covent Garden, on the west side corner of Russell Street. It +derived its name from Will Unwin who kept it. The wits’ room was +upstairs on the first floor. Some of its reputation was due to the +fact that it was a favourite resort of Dryden.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_crossref12" id="brother_crossref12" href="#brother_commnote12">Note to p. 334</a>: +<i>his Third Day.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> text:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +I will be kinder to my Brothers of the Pen, than they have been to a +defenceless Woman; for I am not content to write for a Third day +only.</p> + +<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>write for a Third day only</i>. The whole profits of the third day’s +performance went to the author of the play; and upon these +occasions his friends and patrons would naturally rally to support him. +There are numberless allusions to this custom, especially in Prefaces, +Prologues and Epilogues.</p> + +<p><a name="brother_crossref13" id="brother_crossref13" href="#brother_commnote13">Note to p. 334</a>: +<i>old Adam.</i></p> + +<p><i>Rover II</i> text:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +For your parts, who are the poor dependent, brown Bread and old Adam’s +Ale is only current amongst ye</p> + +<p><i>Rover II</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>old Adam’s Ale.</i> A very ancient colloquialism for water. In +Scotland ‘Adam’s wine’ and frequently merely ‘Adam’. Prynne in his +<i>Sovereign Power of Parliament</i> (1648), speaks of prisoners +‘allowed only a poor pittance of Adam’s ale.’ cf. Peter Pindar (John +Wolcot), <i>The Lousiad</i>, Canto ii, ll. 453-4:— </p> + +<div class="verse"> +<p>Old Adam’s beverage flows with pride</p> +<p>From wide-mouthed pitchers in a plenteous tide.</p> +</div> + +<p><a name="brother_crossref24" id="brother_crossref24" href="#brother_commnote24">Note to p. 394</a>: +<i>this Tour.</i></p> + +<p><i>False Count</i> text:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +you must be a Lady, and have your Petticoats lac’d four Stories high; +wear your false Towers, and cool your self with your <i>Spanish</i> +Fan</p> + +<p><i>False Count</i> note:</p> + +<p class="inset"> +<i>Towers.</i> The tower at this time was a curled frontlet of false +hair. cf. Crowne’s <i>The Country Wit</i> (1675), Act ii, <span +class="smallroman">II</span>, where Lady Faddle cries to her maid, +‘run to my milliner’s for my gloves and essences ... run for my new +towre.’ Shadwell, <i>The Virtuoso</i> (1676), Act iii, mentions ‘Tires +for the head, locks, tours, frouzes, and so forth’. <i>The Debauchee</i> +(1677), Act ii, <span class="smallroman">I</span>: Mrs. Saleware +speaks of buying ‘fine clothes, and tours, and Points and knots.’ <i>The +Younger Brother</i> (1696), Act v, the last scene, old Lady Youthly +anxiously asks her maid, ‘is not this Tour too brown?’ During the reign +of Mary II and particularly in the time of Anne a Tower meant almost +exclusively the high starched head-dress in vogue at that period.</p> + +<hr><hr> + +<div class="endnote"> + +<h4><a name="notes" id="notes"> +Arrangement of Editor’s Notes</a></h4> + +<p>In the printed book, all notes were grouped at the end of the volume +as “Notes on the Plays” and “Notes: Critical and Explanatory”. For this +e-text, Notes have been placed after their respective plays.</p> + +<p>The Notes as printed give only page and line numbers. References to +Acts and Scenes were added by the transcriber. All links lead directly +to the cited text. Annotated passages are identified in the body text +with two kinds of link: <a class="notes" href="#notes">dotted +underlining</a> for text notes; <a class="comm" href="#notes">solid +underlining</a> for critical notes. Passages that have both kinds of +note are linked to the “Critical and Explanatory” note.</p> + +<p>The critical notes include a few cross-references to other volumes of +the Complete Works. Where appropriate, these texts are quoted after each +play’s Notes. The “N.E.D.” of the Notes is now generally known as the +OED.</p> + +<p>In the Notes, the variation between .’ and ’. (close quote before or +after final period) is as printed and has not been regularized. The +abbreviation “cf.” is always lower-case. Brackets are in the +original.</p> + +</div></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF APHRA BEHN *** + +***** This file should be named 27273-h.htm or 27273-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/2/7/27273/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, Wendy Bertsch and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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