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diff --git a/35961.txt b/35961.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..50d2baf --- /dev/null +++ b/35961.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3301 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inconstant, by George Farquhar + +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 Inconstant + +Author: George Farquhar + +Commentator: Elizabeth Inchbald + +Release Date: April 25, 2011 [EBook #35961] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INCONSTANT *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + + + THE + INCONSTANT; + + A COMEDY, + IN FIVE ACTS; + + + BY GEORGE FARQUHAR, ESQ. + + + AS PERFORMED AT THE + THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE. + + + PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS + FROM THE PROMPT BOOK. + + WITH REMARKS + BY MRS. INCHBALD. + + + LONDON: + PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, + PATERNOSTER ROW. + + + + + WILLIAM SAVAGE, PRINTER, + LONDON. + + + + +REMARKS. + + +This comedy, by a favourite writer, had a reception, on the first night +of its appearance, far inferior to that of his other productions. It +was, with difficulty, saved from condemnation; and the author, in his +preface, has boldly charged some secret enemies with having attempted +its destruction. + +Dramatic authors have fewer enemies at the present period, or they +have more humility, than formerly. For now, when their works are +hissed from the stage, they acknowledge they have had a fair trial, +and deserve their fate. Wherefore should an author seek for remote +causes, to account for his failures, when to himself alone, he is +certain ever to impute all his success? + +Neither the wit, humour, nor the imitation of nature, in this play, +are of that forcible kind, with which the audience had been usually +delighted by Farquhar; and, that the moral gave a degree of superiority +to this drama, was, in those days, of little consequence: the theatre +was ordained, it was thought, for mere pleasure, nor did any one wish +it should degenerate into instruction. + +It may be consolatory to the disappointed authors of the present day, +to find, how the celebrated author of this comedy was incommoded with +theatrical crosses. He was highly offended, that his play was not +admired; still more angry, that there was an empty house, on his sixth +night, and more angry still, that the Opera House, for the benefit of +a French dancer, was, about this time, filled even to the annoyance of +the crowded company. The following are his own words on the occasion: + +"It is the prettiest way in the world of despising the French king, +to let him see that we can afford money to bribe his dancers, when he, +poor man, has exhausted all his stock, in buying some pitiful towns and +principalities. What can be a greater compliment to our generous nation, +than to have the lady on her re-tour to Paris, boast of her splendid +entertainment in England: of the complaisance, liberty, and good nature +of a people, who thronged her house so full, that she had not room to +stick a pin; and left a poor fellow, who had the misfortune of being +one of themselves, without one farthing, for half a year's pains he +had taken for their entertainment." + +This complaint is curious, on account of the talents of the man who +makes it; and, for the same cause, highly reprehensible. If Farquhar, +thought himself superior to the French dancer, why did he honour her by +a comparison? and, if he wanted bread, why did he not suffer in silence, +rather than insinuate, he should like to receive it, through the medium +of a benefit? + +A hundred years of refinement (the exact time since this author wrote) +may have weakened the force of the dramatic pen; but it has, happily, +elevated authors above the servile spirit of dedications, or the meaner +practice, of taking public benefits. + +As the moral of this comedy has been mentioned as one of its highest +recommendations, it must be added--that, herein, the author did not +invent, but merely adopt, as his own, an occurrence which took place +in Paris, about that period, just as he has represented it in his last +act. The Chevalier de Chastillon was the man who is personated by young +Mirabel, in this extraordinary event; and the Chevalier's friend, his +betrothed wife, and his beautiful courtesan, are all exactly described +in the characters of Duretete, Oriana, and Lamorce. + +Having justly abridged Farquhar of the honour of inventing a moral, +it may be equally just, to make a slight apology for his chagrin +at the slender receipts of his sixth night.--He once possessed the +income, which arose from a captain's commission in the army; and having +prudently conceived that this little revenue would not maintain a wife, +he had resolved to live single, unless chance should bestow on him a +woman of fortune. His person and address were so extremely alluring, +that a woman of family, but of no fortune, conceiving the passion she +felt for him to be love, pretended she possessed wealth, and deceived +him into a marriage, which plunged them both into the utmost poverty. + +This admirable dramatist seems to have been born for a dupe. In his +matrimonial distress, he applied to a nobleman, who had professed a +friendship for him, and besought his advice how to surmount his +difficulties: The counsel given, was--"Sell your commission, for +present support, and, before the money for its sale is expended, I will +procure you another." Farquhar complied--and his patron broke his word. + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + + + OLD MIRABEL _Mr. Dowton._ + YOUNG MIRABEL _Mr. C. Kemble._ + CAPTAIN DURETETE _Mr. Bannister._ + DUGARD _Mr. Holland._ + PETIT _Mr. De Camp._ + + BRAVOES--_Messrs. Maddocks, Webb, Evans and Sparks._ + + ORIANA _Mrs. Young._ + BISARRE _Mrs. Jordan._ + LAMORCE _Miss Tidswell._ + + + + +THE INCONSTANT. + + + + +ACT THE FIRST. + + +SCENE I. + +_The Street._ + +_Enter_ DUGARD, _and his Man_, PETIT, _in Riding Habits_. + + +_Dug._ Sirrah, what's o'clock? + +_Petit._ Turned of eleven, sir. + +_Dug._ No more! We have rid a swinging pace from Nemours, since two this +morning! Petit, run to Rousseau's, and bespeak a dinner, at a Lewis d'or +a head, to be ready by one. + +_Petit._ How many will there be of you, sir? + +_Dug._ Let me see--Mirabel one, Duretete two, myself three---- + +_Petit._ And I four. + +_Dug._ How now, sir? at your old travelling familiarity! When abroad, +you had some freedom, for want of better company, but among my friends, +at Paris, pray remember your distance--Begone, sir! [_Exit_ PETIT.] This +fellow's wit was necessary abroad, but he's too cunning for a domestic; +I must dispose of him some way else.--Who's here? Old Mirabel, and my +sister!--my dearest sister! + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL _and_ ORIANA. + +_Oriana._ My Brother! Welcome! + +_Dug._ Monsieur Mirabel! I'm heartily glad to see you. + +_Old Mir._ Honest Mr. Dugard, by the blood of the Mirabels, I'm your +most humble servant! + +_Dug._ Why, sir, you've cast your skin, sure; you're brisk and +gay--lusty health about you--no sign of age, but your silver hairs. + +_Old Mir._ Silver hairs! Then they are quicksilver hairs, sir. Whilst +I have golden pockets, let my hairs be silver, an' they will. Adsbud, +sir, I can dance, and sing, and drink, and--no, I can't wench. But Mr. +Dugard, no news of my son Bob in all your travels? + +_Dug._ Your son's come home, sir. + +_Old Mir._ Come home! Bob come home! By the blood of the Mirabels, Mr. +Dugard, what say you? + +_Oriana._ Mr. Mirabel returned, sir? + +_Dug._ He's certainly come, and you may see him within this hour or two. + +_Old Mir._ Swear it, Mr. Dugard, presently swear it. + +_Dug._ Sir, he came to town with me this morning; I left him at the +Banieurs, being a little disordered after riding, and I shall see him +again presently. + +_Old Mir._ What! and he was ashamed to ask a blessing with his boots on! +A nice dog! Well, and how fares the young rogue, ha? + +_Dug._ A fine gentleman, sir; he'll be his own messenger. + +_Old Mir._ A fine gentleman! But is the rogue like me still? + +_Dug._ Why, yes, sir; he's very like his mother, and as like you, as +most modern sons are to their fathers. + +_Old Mir._ Why, sir, don't you think that I begat him? + +_Dug._ Why, yes, sir; you married his mother, and he inherits your +estate. He's very like you, upon my word. + +_Oriana._ And pray, brother, what's become of his honest companion, +Duretete? + +_Dug._ Who, the captain? The very same, he went abroad; he's the only +Frenchman I ever knew, that could not change. Your son, Mr. Mirabel, is +more obliged to nature for that fellow's composition, than for his own: +for he's more happy in Duretete's folly than his own wit. In short, they +are as inseparable as finger and thumb; but the first instance in the +world, I believe, of opposition in friendship. + +_Old Mir._ Very well: will he be home, to dinner, think ye? + +_Dug._ Sir, he has ordered me to bespeak a dinner for us at Rousseau's, +at a Lewis d'or a head. + +_Old Mir._ A Lewis d'or a head! Well said, Bob; by the blood of the +Mirabels, Bob's improved! But, Mr. Dugard, was it so civil of Bob, to +visit Monsieur Rousseau, before his own natural father, eh? Harkye, +Oriana, what think you now, of a fellow that can eat and drink ye a +whole Lewis d'or at a sitting? He must be as strong as Hercules; life +and spirit in abundance. Before Gad, I don't wonder at these men of +quality, that their own wives can't serve them! A Lewis d'or a head! +'tis enough to stock the whole nation with bastards, 'tis, 'faith! Mr. +Dugard, I leave you with your sister. [_Exit._ + +_Dug._ Well, sister, I need not ask you how you do, your looks resolve +me; fair, tall, well-shaped; you're almost grown out of my remembrance. + +_Oriana._ Why, truly, brother, I look pretty well, thank nature, and my +toilet; I eat three meals a day, am very merry when up, and sleep +soundly when I'm down. + +_Dug._ But, sister, you remember that upon my going abroad, you would +chuse this old gentleman for your guardian; he's no more related to our +family, than Prester John, and I have no reason to think you mistrusted +my management of your fortune. Therefore, pray be so kind as to tell me, +without reservation, the true cause of making such a choice. + +_Oriana._ Lookye, brother, you were going a rambling, and 'twas proper, +lest I should go a rambling too, that somebody should take care of me. +Old Monsieur Mirabel is an honest gentleman, was our father's friend, +and has a young lady in his house, whose company I like, and who has +chosen him for her guardian as well as I. + +_Dug._ Who, Mademoiselle Bisarre? + +_Oriana._ The same; we live merrily together, without scandal or +reproach; we make much of the old gentleman between us, and he takes +care of us; all the week we dance and sing, and upon Sundays, go first +to church, and then to the play.--Now, brother, besides these motives +for chusing this gentleman for my guardian, perhaps I had some private +reasons. + +_Dug._ Not so private as you imagine, sister; your love to young +Mirabel's no secret, I can assure you, but so public, that all your +friends are ashamed on't. + +_Oriana._ O' my word, then, my friends are very bashful; though I'm +afraid, sir, that those people are not ashamed enough at their own +crimes, who have so many blushes to spare for the faults of their +neighbours. + +_Dug._ Ay, but, sister, the people say---- + +_Oriana._ Pshaw! hang the people! they'll talk treason, and profane +their Maker; must we, therefore infer, that our king is a tyrant, and +religion a cheat? Lookye, brother, their court of inquiry is a tavern, +and their informer, claret: They think as they drink, and swallow +reputations like loches; a lady's health goes briskly round with the +glass, but her honour is lost in the toast. + +_Dug._ Ay, but sister, there is still something---- + +_Oriana._ If there be something, brother, 'tis none of the people's +something: Marriage is my thing, and I'll stick to't. + +_Dug._ Marriage! young Mirabel marry! he'll build churches sooner. Take +heed, sister, though your honour stood proof to his home-bred assaults, +you must keep a stricter guard for the future: He has now got the +foreign air, and the Italian softness; his wit's improved by converse, +his behaviour finished by observation, and his assurances confirmed by +success. Sister, I can assure you, he has made his conquests; and 'tis a +plague upon your sex, to be the soonest deceived, by those very men that +you know have been false to others.--But then, sister, he's as fickle-- + +_Oriana._ For God's sake, brother, tell me no more of his faults, for, +if you do, I shall run mad for him: Say no more, sir; let me but get him +into the bands of matrimony, I'll spoil his wandering, I warrant him; +I'll do his business that way, never fear. + +_Dug._ Well, sister, I won't pretend to understand the engagements +between you and your lover; I expect when you have need of my counsel or +assistance, you will let me know more of your affairs. Mirabel is a +gentleman, and as far as my honour and interest can reach, you may +command me, to the furtherance of your happiness: In the mean time, +sister, I have a great mind to make you a present of another humble +servant; a fellow that I took up at Lyons, who has served me honestly +ever since. + +_Oriana._ Then why will you part with him? + +_Dug._ He has gained so insufferably on my good-humour, that he's grown +too familiar; but the fellow's cunning, and may be serviceable to you in +your affair with Mirabel. Here he comes. + + _Enter_ PETIT. + +Well, sir, have you been at Rousseau's? + +_Petit._ Yes, sir, and who should I find there but Mr. Mirabel and the +captain, hatching as warmly over a tub of ice, as two hen pheasants over +a brood--They would not let me bespeak any thing, for they had dined +before I came. + +_Dug._ Come, sir, you shall serve my sister, I shall still continue kind +to you; and if your lady recommends your diligence, upon trial, I'll use +my interest to advance you.--Wait on your lady home, Petit. [_Exit._ + +_Petit._ A chair! a chair! a chair! + +_Oriana._ No, no, I'll walk home, 'tis but next door. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + +_A Tavern._ + +YOUNG MIRABEL _and_ DURETETE _discovered, rising from Table_. + + +_Y. Mir._ Welcome to Paris once more, my dear Captain; we have eat +heartily, drank roundly, paid plentifully, and let it go for once. I +liked every thing but our women; they looked so lean and tawdry, poor +creatures! 'Tis a sure sign the army is not paid. Give me the plump +Venetian, brisk, and sanguine, that smiles upon me like the glowing +sun, and meets my lips like sparkling wine, her person, shining as the +glass, and spirit, like the foaming liquor. + +_Dur._ Ah, Mirabel, Italy I grant you; but for our women here in France, +they are such thin, brawn, fallen jades, a man may as well make a +bed-fellow of a cane chair. + +_Y. Mir._ France! A light, unseasoned country, nothing but feathers, +foppery, and fashions.--There's nothing on this side the Alps worth my +humble service t'ye--Ha, Roma la Santa!--Italy for my money!--their +customs, gardens, buildings, paintings, music, policies, wine, and +women! the paradise of the world!--not pestered with a parcel of +precise, old, gouty fellows, that would debar their children every +pleasure, that they themselves are past the sense of;--commend me to +the Italian familiarity--"Here, son, there's fifty crowns, go, pay +your girl her week's allowance." + +_Dur._ Ay, these are your fathers, for you, that understand the +necessities of young men! not like our musty dads, who, because they +cannot fish themselves, would muddy the water, and spoil the sport of +them that can. But now you talk of the plump, what d'ye think of a Dutch +woman? + +_Y. Mir._ A Dutch woman's too compact,--nay, every thing among them +is so; a Dutch man is thick, a Dutch woman is squab, a Dutch horse is +round, a Dutch dog is short, a Dutch ship is broad bottomed; and, in +short, one would swear, that the whole product of the country were cast +in the same mould with their cheeses. + +_Dur._ Ay, but Mirabel, you have forgot the English ladies. + +_Y. Mir._ The women of England were excellent, did they not take such +unsufferable pains to ruin, what nature has made so incomparably well; +they would be delicate creatures indeed, could they but thoroughly +arrive at the French mien, or entirely let it alone; for they only +spoil a very good air of their own, by an awkward imitation of ours. +But come, Duretete, let us mind the business in hand; Mistresses we +must have, and must take up with the manufacture of the place, and +upon a competent diligence, we shall find those in Paris shall match +the Italians from top to toe. + +_Dur._ Ay, Mirabel, you will do well enough, but what will become of +your friend? you know, I am so plaguy bashful! so naturally an ass upon +these occasions, that---- + +_Y. Mir._ Pshaw! you must be bolder, man! Travel three years, and bring +home such a baby as bashfulness! A great lusty fellow, and a soldier; +fie upon it! + +_Dur._ Lookye, sir, I can visit, and I can ogle a little,--as thus, or +thus now. Then I can kiss abundantly--but if they chance to give me a +forbidding look, as some women, you know, have a devilish cast with +their eyes--or if they cry, "What do you mean? what d'ye take me for? +Fie, sir, remember who I am, sir--A person of quality to be used at +this rate!"--'Egad, I'm struck as flat as a fryingpan. + +_Y. Mir._ Words of course! never mind them: Turn you about upon your +heel, with a jantee air; hum out the end of an old song; cut a cross +caper, and at her again. + +_Dur._ [_Imitates him._] No, hang it, 'twill never do!--Oons! what did +my father mean, by sticking me up in an university, or to think that I +should gain any thing by my head, in a nation, whose genius lies all +in their heels!--Well, if ever I come to have children of my own, they +shall have the education of the country--they shall learn to dance, +before they can walk, and be taught to sing, before they can speak. + +_Y. Mir._ Come, come, throw off that childish humour--put on assurance, +there's no avoiding it; stand all hazards, thou'rt a stout, lusty +fellow, and hast a good estate;--look bluff, hector, you have a good +side-box face, a pretty impudent face; so, that's pretty well.--This +fellow went abroad like an ox, and is returned like an ass. [_Aside._ + +_Dur._ Let me see now, how I look. [_Pulls out a Pocket Glass, and looks +on it._] A side-box face, say you!--'Egad, I don't like it, Mirabel! +Fie, sir, don't abuse your friends, I could not wear such a face for the +best countess in christendom. + +_Y. Mir._ Why can't you, blockhead, as well as I? + +_Dur._ Why, thou hast impudence to set a good face upon any thing; I +would change half my gold for half thy brass, with all my heart. Who +comes here? Odso, Mirabel, your father! + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL. + +_Old Mir._ Where's Bob?--dear Bob? + +_Y. Mir._ Your blessing, sir? + +_Old Mir._ My blessing! Damn ye, ye young rogue, why did not you come +to see your father first, sirrah? My dear boy, I am heartily glad to +see thee, my dear child, 'faith!--Captain Duretete, by the blood of the +Mirabels, I'm yours! Well, my lads, ye look bravely, 'faith.--Bob, hast +got any money left? + +_Y. Mir._ Not a farthing, sir. + +_Old Mir._ Why, then, I won't gi' thee a souse. + +_Y. Mir._ I did but jest, here's ten pistoles. + +_Old Mir._ Why, then, here's ten more: I love to be charitable to those +that don't want it.--Well, and how do you like Italy, my boys? + +_Y. Mir._ O, the garden of the world, sir! Rome, Naples, Venice, Milan, +and a thousand others--all fine. + +_Old Mir._ Ay! say you so? And they say, that Chiari is very fine too. + +_Dur._ Indifferent, sir, very indifferent; a very scurvy air, the most +unwholesome to a French constitution in the world. + +_Y. Mir._ Pshaw! nothing on't: these rascally gazetteers have misinformed +you. + +_Old Mir._ Misinformed me! Oons, sir, were we not beaten there? + +_Y. Mir._ Beaten, sir! we beaten! + +_Old Mir._ Why, how was it, pray, sweet sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Sir, the captain will tell you. + +_Dur._ No, sir, your son will tell you. + +_Y. Mir._ The captain was in the action, sir. + +_Dur._ Your son saw more than I, sir, for he was a looker on. + +_Old Mir._ Confound you both, for a brace of cowards! here are no +Germans to overhear you--why don't ye tell me how it was? + +_Y. Mir._ Why, then, you must know, that we marched up a body of the +finest, bravest, well dressed fellows in the universe; our commanders at +the head of us, all lace and feather, like so many beaux at a ball--I +don't believe there was a man of them but could dance a charmer, +Morbleau. + +_Old Mir._ Dance! very well, pretty fellows, 'faith! + +_Y. Mir._ We capered up to their very trenches, and there saw, peeping +over, a parcel of scare-crow, olive-coloured, gunpowder fellows, as ugly +as the devil. + +_Dur._ E'gad, I shall never forget the looks of them, while I have +breath to fetch. + +_Y. Mir._ They were so civil, indeed, as to welcome us with their +cannon! but for the rest, we found them such unmannerly, rude, +unsociable dogs, that we grew tired of their company, and so we +e'en danced back again. + +_Old Mir._ And did ye all come back? + +_Y. Mir._ No, two or three thousand of us staid behind. + +_Old Mir._ Why, Bob, why? + +_Y. Mir._ Pshaw! because they could not come that night. + +_Dur._ No, sir, because they could not come that night. + +_Y. Mir._ But, come, sir, we were talking of something else; pray, how +does your lovely charge, the fair Oriana? + +_Old Mir._ Ripe, sir, just ripe; you'll find it better engaging with her +than with the Germans, let me tell you. And what would you say, my young +Mars, if I had a Venus for thee too? Come, Bob, your apartment is ready, +and pray let your friend be my guest too; you shall command the house +between ye, and I'll be as merry as the best of you. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACT THE SECOND. + + +SCENE I. + +OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. + +ORIANA _and_ BISARRE. + + +_Bis._ And you love this young rake, d'ye? + +_Oriana._ Yes. + +_Bis._ In spite of all his ill usage? + +_Oriana._ I can't help it. + +_Bis._ What's the matter wi' ye? + +_Oriana._ Pshaw! + +_Bis._ Um!--before that any young, lying, swearing, flattering, +rakehelly fellow, should play such tricks with me--O, the devil take all +your Cassandras and Cleopatras for me.--I warrant now, you'll play the +fool when he comes, and say you love him! eh? + +_Oriana._ Most certainly; I can't dissemble, Bisarre; besides, 'tis past +that, we're contracted. + +_Bis._ Contracted! alack-a-day, poor thing!--What, you have changed +rings, or broken an old broadpiece between you! I would make a fool +of any fellow in France. Well, I must confess, I do love a little +coquetting, with all my heart! my business should be to break gold with +my lover one hour, and crack my promise the next; he should find me one +day with a prayer book in my hand, and with a play book another.--He +should have my consent to buy the wedding ring, and the next moment +would I ask him his name. + +_Oriana._ O, my dear! were there no greater tie upon my heart, than +there is upon my conscience, I would soon throw the contract out of +doors; but the mischief on't is, I am so fond of being tied, that +I'm forced to be just, and the strength of my passion keeps down the +inclination of my sex. + +_Bis._ But here's the old gentleman! + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL. + +_Old Mir._ Where's my wenches?--where's my two little girls? Eh! Have +a care,--look to yourselves, 'faith, they're a coming--the travellers +are a coming! Well! which of you two will be my daughter-in-law now? +Bisarre, Bisarre, what say you, madcap? Mirabel is a pure, wild fellow. + +_Bis._ I like him the worse. + +_Old Mir._ You lie, hussy, you like him the better, indeed you do! What +say you, my t'other little filbert, eh? + +_Oriana._ I suppose the gentleman will chuse for himself, sir. + +_Old Mir._ Why, that's discreetly said, and so he shall. + + _Enter_ MIRABEL _and_ DURETETE; _they salute the Ladies_. + +Bob, harkye, you shall marry one of these girls, sirrah! + +_Y. Mir._ Sir, I'll marry them both, if you please. + +_Bis._ [_Aside._] He'll find that one may serve his turn. + +_Old Mir._ Both! why, you young dog, d'ye banter me?--Come, sir, take +your choice.--Duretete, you shall have your choice too, but Robin shall +chuse first.--Come, sir, begin. Well! which d'ye like? + +_Y. Mir._ Both. + +_Old Mir._ But which will you marry? + +_Y. Mir._ Neither. + +_Old Mir._ Neither! Don't make me angry now, Bob--pray, don't make me +angry.--Lookye, sirrah, if I don't dance at your wedding to-morrow, I +shall be very glad to cry at your grave. + +_Y. Mir._ That's a bull, father. + +_Old Mir._ A bull! Why, how now, ungrateful sir, did I make thee a man, +that thou shouldst make me a beast? + +_Y. Mir._ Your pardon, sir; I only meant your expression. + +_Old Mir._ Harkye, Bob, learn better manners to your father before +strangers! I won't be angry this time: But oons, if ever you do't again, +you rascal!--remember what I say. [_Exit._ + +_Y. Mir._ Pshaw! what does the old fellow mean by mewing me up here with +a couple of green girls?--Come, Duretete, will you go? + +_Oriana._ I hope, Mr. Mirabel, you han't forgot-- + +_Y. Mir._ No, no, madam, I han't forgot, I have brought you a thousand +little Italian curiosities; I'll assure you, madam, as far as a hundred +pistoles would reach, I han't forgot the least circumstance. + +_Oriana._ Sir, you misunderstand me. + +_Y. Mir._ Odso! the relics, madam, from Rome. I do remember, now, you +made a vow of chastity before my departure; a vow of chastity, or +something like it--was it not, madam? + +_Oriana._ O sir, I'm answered at present. [_Exit._ + +_Y. Mir._ She was coming full mouth upon me with her contract--'Would I +might despatch t'other! + +_Dur._ Mirabel, that lady there, observe her, she's wondrous pretty, +'faith! and seems to have but few words; I like her mainly--speak to +her, man, pr'ythee speak to her. + +_Y. Mir._ Madam, here's a gentleman, who declares---- + +_Dur._ Madam, don't believe him, I declare nothing--What, the devil, do +you mean, man? + +_Y. Mir._ He says, madam, that you are as beautiful as an angel. + +_Dur._ He tells a damned lie, madam! I say no such thing--Are you mad, +Mirabel? Why, I shall drop down with shame. + +_Y. Mir._ And so, madam, not doubting but your ladyship may like him as +well as he does you, I think it proper to leave you together. + + [_Going_, DURETETE _holds him_. + +_Dur._ Hold, hold--Why, Mirabel, friend, sure you won't be so barbarous +as to leave me alone! Pr'ythee, speak to her for yourself, as it were! +Lord, Lord, that a Frenchman should want impudence! + +_Y. Mir._ You look mighty demure, madam.--She's deaf, Captain. + +_Dur._ I had much rather have her dumb. + +_Y. Mir._ The gravity of your air, madam, promises some extraordinary +fruits from your study, which moves us with curiosity to inquire the +subject of your ladyship's contemplation.--Not a word! + +_Dur._ I hope in the Lord, she's speechless! if she be, she's mine this +moment. Mirabel, d'ye think a woman's silence can be natural? + +_Bis._ But the forms which logicians introduce, and which proceed from +simple enumeration, are dubitable, and proceed only upon admittance-- + +_Y. Mir._ Hoyty toyty! what a plague have we here? Plato in petticoats! + +_Dur._ Ay, ay, let her go on, man; she talks in my own mother tongue. + +_Bis._ 'Tis exposed to invalidity, from a contradictory instance; looks +only upon common operations, and is infinite in its termination. + +_Y. Mir._ Rare pedantry! + +_Dur._ Axioms! axioms! self-evident principles! + +_Bis._ Then the ideas wherewith the mind is pre-occupate.--O, gentlemen, +I hope you'll pardon my cogitation! I was involved in a profound point +of philosophy, but I shall discuss it somewhere else, being satisfied, +that the subject is not agreeable to your sparks, that profess the +vanity of the times. [_Exit._ + +_Y. Mir._ Go thy way, good wife Bias! Do you hear, Duretete? Dost hear +this starched piece of austerity? + +_Dur._ She's mine, man, she's mine--My own talent to a T.--I'll match +her in dialectics, 'faith! I was seven years at the university, man, +nursed up with Barbaro, Celarunt, Darii, Ferio, Baralipton. Did you ever +know, man, that 'twas metaphysics made me an ass? It was, 'faith! Had +she talked a word of singing, dancing, plays, fashions, or the like, I +had foundered at the first step; but as she is--Mirabel, wish me joy! + +_Y. Mir._ You don't mean marriage, I hope? + +_Dur._ No, no, I am a man of more honour. + +_Y. Mir._ Bravely resolved, Captain! now for thy credit--warm me this +frozen snowball--'twill be a conquest above the Alps! + +_Dur._ But will you promise to be always near me? + +_Y. Mir._ Upon all occasions, never fear. + +_Dur._ Why, then, you shall see me, in two moments, make an induction +from my love to her hand, from her hand to her mouth, from her mouth to +her heart, and so conclude in her bed, categorematice. + +_Y. Mir._ Now the game begins, and my fool is entered.--But here comes +one to spoil my sport; now shall I be teased to death, with this +old-fashioned contract! I should love her too, if I might do it my own +way, but she'll do nothing without witnesses, forsooth! I wonder women +can be so immodest! + + _Enter_ ORIANA. + +Well, madam, why d'ye follow me? + +_Oriana._ Well, sir, why do you shun me? + +_Y. Mir._ 'Tis my humour, madam, and I'm naturally swayed by +inclination. + +_Oriana._ Have you forgot our contract, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ All I remember of that contract is, that it was made some +three years ago, and that's enough, in conscience, to forget the rest +on't. + +_Oriana._ 'Tis sufficient, sir, to recollect the passing of it; for, in +that circumstance, I presume, lies the force of the obligation. + +_Y. Mir._ Obligations, madam, that are forced upon the will, are no tie +upon the conscience; I was a slave to my passion, when I passed the +instrument, but the recovery of my freedom makes the contract void. + +_Oriana._ Come, Mr. Mirabel, these expressions I expected from the +raillery of your humour, but I hope for very different sentiments from +your honour and generosity. + +_Y. Mir._ Lookye, madam, as for my generosity, 'tis at your service, +with all my heart: I'll keep you a coach and six horses, if you please, +only permit me to keep my honour to myself. Consider, madam, you have no +such thing among ye, and 'tis a main point of policy to keep no faith +with reprobates--thou art a pretty little reprobate, and so get thee +about thy business! + +_Oriana._ Well, sir, even all this I will allow to the gaiety of your +temper; your travels have improved your talent of talking, but they are +not of force, I hope, to impair your morals. + +_Y. Mir._ Morals! why, there 'tis again now!--I tell thee, child, there +is not the least occasion for morals, in any business between you and +I. Don't you know that, of all commerce in the world, there is no such +cozenage and deceit, as in the traffic between man and woman? we study +all our lives long, how to put tricks upon one another.--No fowler lays +abroad more nets for his game, nor a hunter for his prey, than you do, +to catch poor innocent men.--Why do you sit three or four hours at +your toilet in a morning? only with a villanous design to make some +poor fellow a fool before night. What d'ye sigh for?--What d'ye weep +for?--What d'ye pray for? Why, for a husband: That is, you implore +Providence to assist you, in the just, and pious design, of making the +wisest of his creatures a fool, and the head of the creation, a slave. + +_Oriana._ Sir, I am proud of my power, and am resolved to use it. + +_Y. Mir._ Hold, hold, madam, not so fast--As you have variety of vanities +to make coxcombs of us; so we have vows, oaths, and protestations, of +all sorts and sizes, to make fools of you--And this, in short, my dear +creature, is our present condition. I have sworn, and lied, briskly, to +gain my ends of you; your ladyship has patched and painted violently, to +gain your ends of me; but, since we are both disappointed, let us make a +drawn battle, and part clear on both sides. + +_Oriana._ With all my heart, sir! give me up my contract, and I'll never +see your face again. + +_Y. Mir._ Indeed, I won't, child! + +_Oriana._ What, sir! neither do one nor t'other? + +_Y. Mir._ No, you shall die a maid, unless you please to be otherwise, +upon my terms. + +_Oriana._ What do you intend by this, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Why, to starve you into compliance;--lookye, you shall never +marry any man; and you had as good let me do you a kindness as a +stranger. + +_Oriana._ Sir, you're a---- + +_Y. Mir._ What am I, ma'am? + +_Oriana._ A villain, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ I'm glad on't--I never knew an honest fellow in my life, but +was a villain upon these occasions. Han't you drawn yourself, now, into +a very pretty dilemma? ha! ha! ha! the poor lady has made a vow of +virginity, when she thought of making a vow to the contrary. Was ever +poor woman so cheated into chastity? + +_Oriana._ Sir, my fortune is equal to yours, my friends as powerful, and +both shall be put to the test, to do me justice. + +_Y. Mir._ What! you'll force me to marry you, will ye? + +_Oriana._ Sir, the law shall. + +_Y. Mir._ But the law can't force me to do any thing else, can it? + +_Oriana._ Pshaw, I despise thee--Monster! + +_Y. Mir._ Kiss and be friends, then--Don't cry, child, and you shall +have your sugar plumb--Come, madam, d'ye think I could be so unreasonable +as to make you fast all your life long! No, I did but jest, you shall +have your liberty--here, take your contract, and give me mine. + +_Oriana._ No, I won't. + +_Y. Mir._ Eh! What, is the girl a fool? + +_Oriana._ No, sir, you shall find me cunning enough to do myself +justice; and since I must not depend upon your love, I'll be revenged, +and force you to marry me, out of spite. + +_Y. Mir._ Then I'll beat thee out of spite, and make a most confounded +husband! + +_Oriana._ O, sir, I shall match ye! A good husband makes a good wife at +any time. + +_Y. Mir._ I'll rattle down your china about your ears. + +_Oriana._ And I'll rattle about the city, to run you in debt for more. + +_Y. Mir._ I'll tear the furbelow off your clothes, and when you swoon +for vexation, you shan't have a penny, to buy a bottle of hartshorn. + +_Oriana._ And you, sir, shall have hartshorn in abundance. + +_Y. Mir._ I'll keep as many mistresses as I have coach horses. + +_Oriana._ And I'll keep as many gallants as you have grooms. + +_Y. Mir._ But, sweet madam, there is such a thing as a divorce! + +_Oriana._ But, sweet sir, there is such a thing as alimony! so divorce +on, and spare not. [_Exit._ + +_Y. Mir._ Ay, that separate maintenance is the devil--there's their +refuge!--O' my conscience, one would take cuckoldom for a meritorious +action, because the women are so handsomely rewarded for it. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ DURETETE _and_ PETIT. + +_Dur._ And she's mighty peevish, you say? + +_Petit._ O sir, she has a tongue as long as my leg, and talks so +crabbedly, you would think she always spoke Welsh. + +_Dur._ That's an odd language, methinks, for her philosophy. + +_Petit._ But sometimes she will sit you half a day without speaking a +word, and talk oracles all the while by the wrinkles of her forehead, +and the motions of her eyebrows. + +_Dur._ Nay, I shall match her in philosophical ogles, 'faith!--that's +my talent: I can talk best, you must know, when I say nothing. + +_Petit._ But d'ye ever laugh, sir? + +_Dur._ Laugh? Won't she endure laughing? + +_Petit._ Why, she's a critic, sir, she hates a jest, for fear it should +please her; and nothing keeps her in humour, but what gives her the +spleen.--And then, for logic, and all that, you know---- + +_Dur._ Ay, ay, I'm prepared, I have been practising hard words and no +sense, this hour, to entertain her. + +_Petit._ Then place yourself behind this screen, that you may have a +view of her behaviour before you begin. + +_Dur._ I long to engage her, lest I should forget my lesson. + +_Petit._ Here she comes, sir--I must fly. + [_Exit_ PETIT, _and_ DURETETE _stands + peeping behind the Curtain_. + + _Enter_ BISARRE _and_ MAID. + +_Bis._ [_With a Book._] Pshaw! hang books! they sour our temper, spoil +our eyes, and ruin our complexions. [_Throws away the Book._ + +_Dur._ Eh? the devil such a word there is in all Aristotle! + +_Bis._ Come, wench, let's be free--call in the fiddle, there's nobody +near us. + +_Dur._ 'Would to the Lord there was not! + +_Bis._ Here, friend, a minuet----[_Music._] Quicker time--ha--'would we +had a man or two! + +_Dur._ [_Stealing away._] You shall have the devil sooner, my dear, +dancing philosopher! + +_Bis._ Uds my life!--Here's one! + [_Runs to_ DURETETE, _and hales him back_. + +_Dur._ Is all my learned preparation come to this? + +_Bis._ Come, sir, don't be ashamed, that's my good boy--you're very +welcome, we wanted such a one--Come, strike up--[_Dance._] I know you +dance well, sir, you're finely shaped for't--Come, come, sir;--quick, +quick! you miss the time else. + +_Dur._ But, madam, I come to talk with you. + +_Bis._ Ay, ay, talk as you dance, talk as you dance,--come. + +_Dur._ But we were talking of dialectics-- + +_Bis._ Hang dialectics! [_Music._] Mind the time----quicker, sirrah! +--Come--and how d'ye find yourself now, sir? + +_Dur._ In a fine breathing sweat, Doctor. + +_Bis._ All the better, patient, all the better;--Come, sir, sing now, +sing, I know you sing well: I see you have a singing face--a heavy, +dull, sonata face. + +_Dur._ Who, I sing? + +_Bis._ O you're modest, sir--but come, sit down closer--closer. Here, a +bottle of wine! [_Exit_ MAID, _and returns with Wine_.] Come, sir--sing, +sir. + +_Dur._ But, madam, I came to talk with you. + +_Bis._ O sir, you shall drink first.--Come, fill me a bumper--here, sir, +bless the king! + +_Dur._ 'Would I were out of his dominions!--By this light, she'll make +me drunk too! + +_Bis._ O pardon me, sir, you shall do me right--fill it higher.--Now, +sir, can you drink a health under your leg? + +_Dur._ Rare philosophy that, 'faith! + +_Bis._ Come, off with it to the bottom!--Now, how d'ye like me, sir? + +_Dur._ O, mighty well, madam! + +_Bis._ You see how a woman's fancy varies! sometimes, splenetic and +heavy, then, gay and frolicsome.--And how d'ye like the humour? + +_Dur._ Good madam, let me sit down to answer you, for I am heartily +tired. + +_Bis._ Fie upon't! a young man, and tired! up, for shame, and walk +about!--Action becomes us--a little faster, sir--What d'ye think now of +my Lady La Pale, and Lady Coquet, the duke's fair daughter? Ha! Are they +not brisk lasses? Then there is black Mrs. Bellair, and brown Mrs. +Bellface! + +_Dur._ They are all strangers to me, madam. + +_Bis._ But let me tell you, sir, that brown is not always despicable--O +Lard, sir, if young Mrs. Bagatell had kept herself single till this time +o'day, what a beauty there had been! And then, you know, the charming +Mrs. Monkeylove, the fair gem of St. Germain's! + +_Dur._ Upon my soul, I don't! + +_Bis._ And then, you must have heard of the English beau, Spleenamore, +how unlike a gentleman---- + +_Dur._ Hey!--not a syllable on't, as I hope to be saved, madam! + +_Bis._ No! Why, then, play me a jig;--[_Music._]--Come, sir. + +_Dur._ By this light, I cannot! 'faith, madam, I have sprained my leg! + +_Bis._ Then sit you down, sir;--and now tell me what's your business +with me? What's your errand? Quick, quick, despatch!--Odso, may be, you +are some gentleman's servant, that has brought me a letter, or a haunch +of venison? + +_Dur._ 'Sdeath, madam, do I look like a carrier? + +_Bis._ O, cry you mercy, I saw you just now, I mistook you, upon my +word! you are one of the travelling gentlemen--and pray, sir, how do all +our impudent friends in Italy? + +_Dur._ Madam, I came to wait on you with a more serious intention than +your entertainment has answered. + +_Bis._ Sir, your intention of waiting on me was the greatest affront +imaginable, however your expressions may turn it to a compliment: Your +visit, sir, was intended as a prologue to a very scurvy play, of which, +Mr. Mirabel and you so handsomely laid the plot.--"Marry! No, no, I am +a man of more honour."--Where's your honour? Where's your courage now? +Ads my life, sir, I have a great mind to kick you!--Go, go to your +fellow-rake now, rail at my sex, and get drunk for vexation, and write a +lampoon--But I must have you to know, sir, that my reputation is above +the scandal of a libel, my virtue is sufficiently approved to those +whose opinion is my interest: and, for the rest, let them talk what they +will; for, when I please, I'll be what I please, in spite of you and all +mankind; and so, my dear man of honour, if you be tired, con over this +lesson, and sit there till I come to you. [_Runs off._ + +_Dur._ Tum ti dum. [_Sings._] Ha! ha! ha! "Ad's my life, I have a great +mind to kick you!"--Oons and confusion! [_Starts up._] Was ever man so +abused!--Ay, Mirabel set me on. + + _Enter_ PETIT. + +_Petit._ Well, sir, how d'ye find yourself? + +_Dur._ You son of a nine-eyed whore, d'ye come to abuse me? I'll kick +you with a vengeance, you dog! + [PETIT _runs off, and_ DURETETE _after him_. + + + + +ACT THE THIRD. + + +SCENE I. + +OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. + +_Enter_ OLD _and_ YOUNG MIRABEL, _meeting_. + + +_Old Mir._ Bob, come hither, Bob. + +_Y. Mir._ Your pleasure, sir? + +_Old Mir._ Are not you a great rogue, sirrah? + +_Y. Mir._ That's a little out of my comprehension, sir; for I've heard +say, that I resemble my father. + +_Old Mir._ Your father is your very humble slave--I tell thee what, +child, thou art a very pretty fellow, and I love thee heartily; and a +very great villain, and I hate thee mortally. + +_Y. Mir._ Villain, sir! Then I must be a very impudent one; for I can't +recollect any passage of my life that I'm ashamed of. + +_Old Mir._ Come hither, my dear friend; dost see this picture? + [_Shows him a little Picture._ + +_Y. Mir._ Oriana's? Pshaw! + +_Old Mir._ What, sir, won't you look upon't?--Bob, dear Bob, pr'ythee +come hither now--Dost want any money, child? + +_Y. Mir._ No, sir. + +_Old Mir._ Why, then, here's some for thee: come here now--How canst +thou be so hard-hearted, an unnatural, unmannerly rascal, (don't mistake +me, child, I a'n't angry) as to abuse this tender, lovely, good-natured, +dear rogue?--Why, she sighs for thee, and cries for thee, pouts for +thee, and snubs for thee; the poor little heart of it is like to +burst----Come, my dear boy, be good-natured, like your own father; be +now--and then, see here, read this----the effigies of the lovely Oriana, +with thirty thousand pound to her portion--thirty thousand pound, you +dog! thirty thousand pound, you rogue! how dare you refuse a lady with +thirty thousand pound, you impudent rascal? + +_Y. Mir._ Will you hear me speak, sir? + +_Old Mir._ Hear you speak, sir! If you had thirty thousand tongues, you +could not out-talk thirty thousand pound, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ Nay, sir, if you won't hear me, I'll begone, sir! I'll take +post for Italy this moment. + +_Old Mir._ Ah, the fellow knows I won't part with him! Well, sir, what +have you to say? + +_Y. Mir._ The universal reception, sir, that marriage has had in the +world, is enough to fix it for a public good, and to draw every body +into the common cause; but there are some constitutions, like some +instruments, so peculiarly singular, that they make tolerable music +by themselves, but never do well in a concert. + +_Old Mir._ Why, this is reason, I must confess, but yet it is nonsense +too; for, though you should reason like an angel, if you argue yourself +out of a good estate, you talk like a fool. + +_Y. Mir._ But, sir, if you bribe me into bondage with the riches of +Croesus, you leave me but a beggar, for want of my liberty. + +_Old Mir._ Was ever such a perverse fool heard? 'Sdeath, sir! why did +I give you education? was it to dispute me out of my senses? Of what +colour, now, is the head of this cane? You'll say, 'tis white, and, ten +to one, make me believe it too----I thought that young fellows studied +to get money. + +_Y. Mir._ No, sir, I have studied to despise it; my reading was not to +make me rich, but happy, sir. + +_Old Mir._ There he has me again, now! But, sir, did not I marry to +oblige you? + +_Y. Mir._ To oblige me, sir! in what respect, pray? + +_Old Mir._ Why, to bring you into the world, sir; wa'n't that an +obligation? + +_Y. Mir._ And, because I would have it still an obligation, I avoid +marriage. + +_Old Mir._ How is that, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Because I would not curse the hour I was born. + +_Old Mir._ Lookye, friend, you may persuade me out of my designs, but +I'll command you out of yours; and, though you may convince my reason +that you are in the right, yet there is an old attendant of sixty-three, +called positiveness, which you, nor all the wits in Italy, shall ever be +able to shake: so, sir, you're a wit, and I'm a father: you may talk, +but I'll be obeyed. + +_Y. Mir._ This it is to have the son a finer gentleman than the father; +they first give us breeding, that they don't understand; then they turn +us out of doors, because we are wiser than themselves. But I'm a little +aforehand with the old gentleman. [_Aside._] Sir, you have been pleased +to settle a thousand pound sterling a year upon me; in return of which, +I have a very great honour for you and your family, and shall take care +that your only and beloved son shall do nothing to make him hate his +father, or to hang himself. So, dear sir, I'm your very humble servant. + [_Runs off._ + +_Old Mir._ Here, sirrah! rogue! Bob! villain! + + _Enter_ DUGARD. + +_Dug._ Ah, sir! 'tis but what he deserves. + +_Old Mir._ 'Tis false, sir! he don't deserve it: what have you to say +against my boy, sir? + +_Dug._ I shall only repeat your own words. + +_Old Mir._ What have you to do with my words? I have swallowed my words +already; I have eaten them up.--I say, that Bob's an honest fellow, and +who dares deny it? + + _Enter_ BISARRE. + +_Bis._ That dare I, sir:--I say, that your son is a wild, foppish, +whimsical, impertinent coxcomb; and, were I abused, as this gentleman's +sister is, I would make it an Italian quarrel, and poison the whole +family. + +_Dug._ Come, sir, 'tis no time for trifling: my sister is abused; you +are made sensible of the affront, and your honour is concerned to see +her redressed. + +_Old Mir._ Lookye, Mr. Dugard, good words go farthest. I will do your +sister justice, but it must be after my own rate; nobody must abuse my +son but myself; for, although Robin be a sad dog, yet he's nobody's +puppy but my own. + +_Bis._ Ay, that's my sweet-natured, kind, old gentleman--[_Wheedling +him._] We will be good, then, if you'll join with us in the plot. + +_Old Mir._ Ah, you coaxing young baggage! what plot can you have to +wheedle a fellow of sixty-three? + +_Bis._ A plot that sixty-three is only good for; to bring other people +together, sir. You must act the Spaniard, because your son will least +suspect you; and, if he should, your authority protects you from a +quarrel, to which Oriana is unwilling to expose her brother. + +_Old Mir._ And what part will you act in the business, madam? + +_Bis._ Myself, sir; my friend is grown a perfect changeling: these +foolish hearts of ours spoil our heads presently; the fellows no sooner +turn knaves, but we turn fools: but I am still myself, and he may expect +the most severe usage from me, because I neither love him, nor hate him. + [_Exit._ + +_Old Mir._ Well said, Mrs. Paradox! but, sir, who must open the matter +to him? + +_Dug._ Petit, sir; who is our engineer general; and here he comes. + + _Enter_ PETIT. + +_Petit._ O, sir, more discoveries! are all friends about us? + +_Dug._ Ay, ay, speak freely. + +_Petit._ You must know, sir,----od's my life, I'm out of breath! you +must know, sir,--you must know-- + +_Old Mir._ What the devil must we know, sir? + +_Petit._ That I have [_Pants and blows._] bribed, sir, bribed--your +son's secretary of state. + +_Old Mir._ Secretary of state!--who's that, for Heaven's sake? + +_Petit._ His valet de chambre, sir? You must know, sir, that the +intrigue lay folded up in his master's clothes; and, when he went to +dust the embroidered suit, the secret flew out of the right pocket of +his coat, in a whole swarm of your crambo songs, short-footed odes, and +long-legged pindarics. + +_Old Mir._ Impossible! + +_Petit._ Ah, sir, he has loved her all along; there was Oriana in every +line, but he hates marriage. Now, sir, this plot will stir up his +jealousy, and we shall know, by the strength of that, how to proceed +farther. + + Come, sir, let's about it with speed: + 'Tis expedition gives our king the sway; + For expedition to the French give way; + Swift to attack, or swift--to run away. + [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ YOUNG MIRABEL _and_ BISARRE, _passing carelessly by + one another_. + +_Bis._ [_Aside._] I wonder what she can see in this fellow, to like him? + +_Y. Mir._ [_Aside._] I wonder what my friend can see in this girl, to +admire her? + +_Bis._ [_Aside._] A wild, foppish, extravagant, rake-hell! + +_Y. Mir._ [_Aside._] A light, whimsical, impertinent, madcap! + +_Bis._ Whom do you mean, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Whom do you mean, madam? + +_Bis._ A fellow, that has nothing left to re-establish him for a human +creature, but a prudent resolution to hang himself! + +_Y. Mir._ There is a way, madam, to force me to that resolution. + +_Bis._ I'll do it, with all my heart. + +_Y. Mir._ Then you must marry me. + +_Bis._ Lookye, sir, don't think your ill manners to me, shall excuse +your ill usage of my friend; nor, by fixing a quarrel here, to divert my +zeal for the absent; for I'm resolved, nay, I come prepared, to make you +a panegyric, that shall mortify your pride, like any modern dedication. + +_Y. Mir._ And I, madam, like a true modern patron, shall hardly give you +thanks for your trouble. + +_Bis._ Come, sir, to let you see what little foundation you have for +your dear sufficiency, I'll take you to pieces. + +_Y. Mir._ And what piece will you chuse? + +_Bis._ Your heart, to be sure; because I should get presently rid on't: +your courage I would give to a Hector, your wit to a lewd playmaker, +your honour to an attorney, your body to the physicians, and your soul +to its master. + +_Y. Mir._ I had the oddest dream last night of the Duchess of Burgundy; +methought the furbelows of her gown were pinned up so high behind, that +I could not see her head for her tail. + +_Bis._ The creature don't mind me! do you think, sir, that your humorous +impertinence can divert me? No, sir, I'm above any pleasure that you can +give, but that of seeing you miserable. And mark me, sir, my friend, my +injured friend, shall yet be doubly happy, and you shall be a husband, +as much as the rites of marriage, and the breach of them, can make you. + + [_Here_ MIRABEL _pulls out a Virgil, and reads + to himself, while she speaks_. + +_Mir._ [Reading.] + _At Regina dolos, (quis fallere possit amantem?)_ + _Dissimulare etiam sperasti, perfide tantum_-- + +Very true. + + _Posse nefas._ + +By your favour, friend Virgil, 'twas but a rascally trick of your hero, +to forsake poor pug so inhumanly. + +_Bis._ I don't know what to say to him. The devil----what's Virgil to +us, sir? + +_Mir._ Very much, madam; the most apropos in the world--for, what should +I chop upon, but the very place where the perjured rogue of a lover, and +the forsaken lady, are battling it tooth and nail! Come, madam, spend +your spirits no longer; we'll take an easier method: I'll be AEneas now, +and you shall be Dido, and we'll rail by book. Now for you, Madam Dido: + + _Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam,_ + _Nec Meritura tenet crudeli funere Dido_---- + +Ah, poor Dido! [_Looking at her._ + +_Bis._ Rudeness! affronts! impatience! I could almost start out, even to +manhood, and want but a weapon, as long as his, to fight him upon the +spot. What shall I say? + +_Mir._ Now she rants. + + _Quae quibus anteferam? jam jam nec Maxima Juno._ + +_Bis._ A man! No, the woman's birth was spirited away. + +_Mir._ Right, right, madam, the very words. + +_Bis._ And some pernicious elf left in the cradle, with human shape, to +palliate growing mischief. + [_Both speak together, and raise their Voices by Degrees._ + +Mir. + _Perfide, sed duris genuit te Cautibus horrens_ + _Caucasus, Hyrcanaeque admorunt Ubera Tigres._ + +_Bis._ Go, sir, fly to your midnight revels---- + +_Mir._ Excellent! + + _I sequere Italiam ventis, pete regna per undas,_ + _Spero equidem mediis, si quid pia Numina possunt._ + [Together again. + +_Bis._ Converse with imps of darkness of your make; your nature starts +at justice, and shivers at the touch of virtue.--Now, the devil take his +impudence! He vexes me so, I don't know whether to cry or laugh at him. + +_Mir._ Bravely performed, my dear Libyan! I'll write the tragedy of +Dido, and you shall act the part; but you do nothing at all, unless +you fret yourself into a fit; for here the poor lady is stifled with +vapours, drops into the arms of her maids, and the cruel, barbarous, +deceitful, wanderer, is, in the very next line, called pious +AEneas.--There's authority for ye. + + Sorry indeed AEneas stood, + To see her in a pout; + But Jove himself, who ne'er thought good + To stay a second bout, + Commands him off, with all his crew, + And leaves poor Dy, as I leave you. [_Runs off._ + +_Bis._ Go thy ways, for a dear, mad, deceitful, agreeable fellow! O' my +conscience, I must excuse Oriana. + + That lover soon his angry fair disarms, + Whose slighting pleases, and whose faults are charms. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ PETIT; _runs about to every Door, and knocks_. + +_Petit._ Mr. Mirabel! Sir, where are you? no where to be found? + + _Enter_ YOUNG MIRABEL. + +_Y. Mir._ What's the matter, Petit? + +_Petit._ Most critically met!--Ah, sir, that one who has followed the +game so long, and brought the poor hare just under his paws, should let +a mungrel cur chop in, and run away with the puss! + +_Y. Mir._ If your worship can get out of your allegories, be pleased to +tell me, in three words, what you mean. + +_Petit._ Plain, plain, sir! Your mistress and mine is going to be +married! + +_Y. Mir._ I believe you lie, sir. + +_Petit._ Your humble servant, sir. [_Going._ + +_Y. Mir._ Come hither, Petit. Married, say you? + +_Petit._ No, sir, 'tis no matter: I only thought to do you a service; +but I shall take care how I confer my favours for the future. + +_Y. Mir._ Sir, I beg ten thousand pardons. [_Bowing low._ + +_Petit._ 'Tis enough, sir.--I come to tell you, sir, that Oriana is this +moment to be sacrificed; married past redemption! + +_Y. Mir._ I understand her; she'll take a husband, out of spite to me, +and then, out of love to me, she will make him a cuckold! But who is the +happy man? + +_Petit._ A lord, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ I'm her ladyship's most humble servant. Now must I be a +constant attender at my lord's levee, to work my way to my lady's +couchee----A countess, I presume, sir---- + +_Petit._ A Spanish count, sir, that Mr. Dugard knew abroad, is come to +Paris, saw your mistress yesterday, marries her to-day, and whips her +into Spain to-morrow. + +_Y. Mir._ Ay, is it so? and must I follow my cuckold over the Pyrenees? +Had she married within the precincts of a billet-doux, I would be the +man to lead her to church; but, as it happens, I'll forbid the banns! +Where is this mighty don? + +_Petit._ Have a care, sir; he's a rough cross-grained piece, and +there's no tampering with him. Would you apply to Mr. Dugard, or the +lady herself, something might be done, for it is in despite to you, that +the business is carried so hastily. Odso, sir, here he comes! I must be +gone. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL, _dressed in a Spanish Habit, leading_ + ORIANA. + +_Oriana._ Good my lord, a nobler choice had better suited your +lordship's merit. My person, rank, and circumstance, expose me as the +public theme of raillery, and subject me so to injurious usage, my lord, +that I can lay no claim to any part of your regard, except your pity. + +_Old Mir._ Breathes he vital air, that dares presume, +With rude behaviour, to profane such excellence? +Show me the man---- +And you shall see how my sudden revenge +Shall fall upon the head of such presumption. +Is this thing one? + [_Strutting up to_ YOUNG MIRABEL. +_Y. Mir._ Sir! + +_Oriana._ Good my lord. + +_Old Mir._ If he, or any he! + +_Oriana._ Pray, my lord, the gentleman's a stranger. + +_Old Mir._ O, your pardon, sir,--but if you had--remember, sir,--the +lady now is mine, her injuries are mine; therefore, sir, you understand +me----Come, madam. + + [_Leads_ ORIANA _to the Door; she goes off_; YOUNG MIRABEL + _runs to his Father, and pulls him by the Sleeve_. + +Y. Mir. _Ecoute, Monsieur le Count._ + +_Old Mir._ Your business, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Boh! + +_Old Mir._ Boh! what language is that, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Spanish, my lord. + +_Old Mir._ What d'ye mean? + +_Y. Mir._ This, sir. [_Trips up his Heels._ + +_Old Mir._ A very concise quarrel, truly----I'll bully him.--_Trinidade +Seigneur_, give me fair play. [_Offering to rise._ + +_Y. Mir._ By all means, sir. [_Takes away his Sword._] Now, seigneur, +where's that bombast look, and fustian face, your countship wore just +now? [_Strikes him._ + +_Old Mir._ The rogue quarrels well, very well; my own son right!--But +hold, sirrah, no more jesting; I'm your father, sir! your father! + +_Y. Mir._ My father! Then, by this light, I could find in my heart to +pay thee. [_Aside._] Is the fellow mad? Why, sure, sir, I han't frighted +you out of your senses? + +_Old Mir._ But you have, sir! + +_Y. Mir._ Then I'll beat them into you again. [_Offers to strike him._ + +_Old Mir._ Why, rogue!--Bob! dear Bob! don't you know me, child? + +_Y. Mir._ Ha! ha! ha! the fellow's downright distracted! Thou miracle of +impudence! wouldst thou make me believe, that such a grave gentleman as +my father would go a masquerading thus? That a person of threescore and +three would run about, in a fool's coat, to disgrace himself and family? +why, you impudent villain, do you think I will suffer such an affront to +pass upon my honoured father, my worthy father, my dear father? 'Sdeath, +sir! mention my father but once again, and I'll send your soul to thy +grandfather this minute! [_Offering to stab him._ + +_Old Mir._ Well, well, I am not your father. + +_Y. Mir._ Why, then, sir, you are the saucy, hectoring Spaniard, and +I'll use you accordingly. + + _Enter_ DUGARD, ORIANA, MAID, _and_ PETIT. DUGARD _runs to_ YOUNG + MIRABEL, _the rest to the Old Gentleman_. + +_Dug._ Fie, fie, Mirabel! murder your father! + +_Y. Mir._ My father? What, is the whole family mad? Give me way, sir, I +won't be held. + +_Old Mir._ No? nor I neither; let me begone, pray. [_Offering to go._ + +_Y. Mir._ My father! + +_Old Mir._ Ay, you dog's face! I am your father, for I have borne as +much for thee, as your mother ever did. + +_Y. Mir._ O ho! then this was a trick, it seems, a design, a contrivance, +a stratagem!--Oh, how my bones ache! + +_Old Mir._ Your bones, sirrah! why yours? + +_Y. Mir._ Why sir, han't I been beating my own flesh and blood all this +while? O, madam, [_To_ ORIANA.] I wish your ladyship joy of your new +dignity. Here was a contrivance indeed! + +_Oriana._ Pray, sir, don't insult the misfortunes of your own creating. + +_Dug._ My prudence will be counted cowardice, if I stand tamely +now.--[_Comes up between_ YOUNG MIRABEL _and his Sister_.] Well, sir! + +_Y. Mir._ Well, sir! Do you take me for one of your tenants, sir, that +you put on your landlord's face at me? + +_Dug._ On what presumption, sir, dare you assume thus? [_Draws._ + +_Old Mir._ What's that to you, sir? [_Draws._ + +_Petit._ Help! help! the lady faints! + [ORIANA _falls into her Maid's Arms_. + +_Y. Mir._ Vapours! vapours! she'll come to herself: If it be an angry +fit, a dram of assa foetida--If jealousy, hartshorn in water--if the +mother, burnt feathers--If grief, ratafia--If it be straight stays, or +corns, there's nothing like a dram of plain brandy. [_Exit._ + +_Oriana._ Hold off, give me air----O, my brother! would you preserve my +life, endanger not your own; would you defend my reputation, leave it +to itself; 'tis a dear vindication that's purchased by the sword; for, +though our champion proves victorious, yet our honour is wounded. + +_Old Mir._ Ay, and your lover may be wounded, that's another thing. But +I think you are pretty brisk again, my child. + +_Oriana._ Ay, sir, my indisposition was only a pretence to divert the +quarrel; the capricious taste of your sex, excuses this artifice in +ours. [_Exit._ + +_Petit._ Come, Mr. Dugard, take courage; there is a way still left to +fetch him again. + +_Old Mir._ Sir, I'll have no plot that has any relation to Spain. + +_Dug._ I scorn all artifice whatsoever; my sword shall do her justice. + +_Petit._ Pretty justice, truly! Suppose you run him through the body, +you run her through the heart at the same time. + +_Old Mir._ And me through the head--rot your sword, sir, we'll have +plots! Come, Petit, let's hear. + +_Petit._ What if she pretended to go into a nunnery, and so bring him +about to declare himself? + +_Dug._ That, I must confess, has a face. + +_Old Mir._ A face! a face like an angel, sir! Ad's my life, sir, 'tis +the most beautiful plot in Christendom! We'll about it immediately. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACT THE FOURTH. + + +SCENE I. + +OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. + +_Enter_ OLD MIRABEL _and_ DUGARD. + + +_Dug._ The Lady Abbess is my relation, and privy to the plot. + +_Old Mir._ Ay, ay, this nunnery will bring him about, I warrant ye. + + _Enter_ DURETETE. + +_Dur._ Here, where are ye all?--O, Mr. Mirabel! you have done fine +things for your posterity--And you, Mr. Dugard, may come to answer +this--I come to demand my friend at your hands; restore him, sir, +or---- [_To_ OLD MIRABEL. + +_Old Mir._ Restore him! What, d'ye think I have got him in my trunk, or +my pocket? + +_Dur._ Sir, he's mad, and you are the cause on't. + +_Old Mir._ That may be; for I was as mad as he when I begot him. + +_Dug._ Mad, sir! What d'ye mean? + +_Dur._ What do you mean, sir, by shutting up your sister, yonder, to +talk like a parrot through a cage? or a decoy-duck, to draw others into +the snare? Your son, sir, because she has deserted him, he has forsaken +the world; and, in three words, has---- + +_Old Mir._ Hanged himself! + +_Dur._ The very same--turned friar! + +_Old Mir._ You lie, sir! 'tis ten times worse. Bob turned friar!--Why +should the fellow shave his foolish crown, when the same razor may cut +his throat? + +_Dur._ If you have any command, or you any interest over him, lose not a +minute: He has thrown himself into the next monastery, and has ordered +me to pay off his servants, and discharge his equipage. + +_Old Mir._ Let me alone to ferret him out: I'll sacrifice the Abbot, if +he receives him; I'll try whether the spiritual or the natural father +has the most right to the child.--But, dear Captain, what has he done +with his estate? + +_Dur._ Settled it upon the church, sir. + +_Old Mir._ The church! Nay, then the devil won't get him out of their +clutches----Ten thousand livres a year upon the church!--'Tis downright +sacrilege--Come, gentlemen, all hands to work: for half that sum, one of +these monasteries shall protect you a traitor from the law, a rebellious +wife from her husband, and a disobedient son from his own father. + [_Exit._ + +_Dug._ But will ye persuade me that he's gone to a monastery? + +_Dur._ Is your sister gone to the Filles Repenties? I tell you, sir, +she's not fit for the society of repenting maids. + +_Dug._ Why so, sir? + +_Dur._ Because she's neither one nor t'other; she's too old to be a +maid, and too young to repent. [_Exit_--DUGARD _after him_. + + +SCENE II. + +_The Inside of a Monastery._ + +_Enter_ ORIANA, _in a Nun's Habit, and_ BISARRE. + + +_Oriana._ I hope, Bisarre, there is no harm in jesting with this +religious habit. + +_Bis._ To me, the greatest jest in the habit, is taking it in earnest. + +_Oriana._ But I'm reconciled, methinks, to the mortification of a +nunnery; because I fancy the habit becomes me. + +_Bis._ A well-contrived mortification, truly, that makes a woman look +ten times handsomer than she did before!--Ay, my dear, were there any +religion in becoming dress, our sex's devotion were rightly placed; for +our toilets would do the work of the altar; we should all be canonized. + +_Oriana._ But don't you think there is a great deal of merit in +dedicating a beautiful face and person to the service of religion? + +_Bis._ Not half so much as devoting them to a pretty fellow. Come, come, +mind your business. Mirabel loves you, 'tis now plain, and hold him +to't; give fresh orders that he shan't see you: we get more by hiding +our faces, sometimes, than by exposing them; a very mask, you see, whets +desire; but a pair of keen eyes, through an iron grate, fire double upon +them, with view and disguise. But I must begone upon my affairs; I have +brought my captain about again. + +_Oriana._ But why will you trouble yourself with that coxcomb? + +_Bis._ Because he is a coxcomb: had I not better have a lover like him, +that I can make an ass of, than a lover like yours, to make a fool of +me. [_Knocking below._] A message from Mirabel, I'll lay my life! [_She +runs to the Door._] Come hither! run, thou charming nun, come hither! + +_Oriana._ What's the news? [_Runs to her._ + +_Bis._ Don't you see who's below? + +_Oriana._ I see nobody but a friar. + +_Bis._ Ah, thou poor blind Cupid! A friar! Don't you see a villanous +genteel mien, under that cloak of hypocrisy? + +_Oriana._ As I live, Mirabel turned friar! I hope, in Heaven, he's not +in earnest. + +_Bis._ In earnest! Ha! ha! ha! are you in earnest? Remember what I say, +if you would yield to advantage, and hold out the attack; to draw him +on, keep him off, to be sure. + + The cunning gamesters never gain too fast, + But lose at first, to win the more at last. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ YOUNG MIRABEL, _in a Friar's Habit_. + +_Y. Mir._ 'Save you, sister--Your brother, young lady, having a regard +for your soul's health, has sent me to prepare you for the sacred habit, +by confession. + +_Oriana._ My brother's care I own; and to you, sacred sir, I confess, +that the great crying sin, which I have long indulged, and now prepare +to expiate, was love. My morning thoughts, my evening prayers, my daily +musings, nightly cares, was love! + +_Y. Mir._ She's downright stark mad in earnest! Death and confusion, I +have lost her! [_Aside._]--You confess your fault, madam, in such moving +terms, that I could almost be in love with the sin. + +_Oriana._ Take care, sir; crimes, like virtues, are their own rewards; +my chief delight became my only grief; he, in whose breast I thought my +heart secure, turned robber, and despoiled the treasure that he kept. + +_Y. Mir._ Perhaps that treasure he esteemed so much, that, like the +miser, though afraid to use it, he reserves it safe. + +_Oriana._ No, holy father: who can be miser in another's wealth, that's +prodigal of his own? His heart was open, shared to all he knew, and +what, alas! must then become of mine! But the same eyes, that drew this +passion in, shall send it out in tears, to which now hear my vow---- + +_Y. Mir._ [_Discovering himself._] No, my fair angel! Here, on my knees, +behold the criminal, that vows repentance his. [_Kneels._] Ha! no +concern upon her! + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL. + +_Old Mir._ Where, where's this counterfeit nun? + +_Oriana._ Madness! confusion! I'm ruined! + +_Y. Mir._ What do I hear? [_Puts on his Hood._] What did you say, sir? + +_Old Mir._ I say she's a counterfeit, and you may be another, for aught +I know, sir: I have lost my child by these tricks, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ What tricks, sir? + +_Old Mir._ By a pretended trick, sir. A contrivance to bring my son to +reason, and it has made him stark mad; I have lost him, and a thousand +pound a year. + +_Y. Mir._ [_Discovering himself._] My dear father, I'm your most humble +servant. + +_Old Mir._ My dear boy! [_Runs and kisses him._]--Welcome, _ex inferis_, +my dear boy! 'tis all a trick, she's no more a nun than I am. + +_Y. Mir._ No! + +_Old Mir._ The devil a bit. + +_Y. Mir._ Then kiss me again, my dear dad, for the most happy news--And +now, most venerable holy sister, [_Kneels._ + + Your mercy and your pardon I implore, + For the offence of asking it before. + +Lookye, my dear counterfeiting nun, take my advice, be a nun in good +earnest; women make the best nuns always, when they can't do otherwise. + +_Oriana._ O, sir! how unhappily have you destroyed what was so near +perfection! He is the counterfeit, that has deceived you. + +_Old Mir._ Ha! Lookye, sir, I recant; she is a nun. + +_Y. Mir._ Sir, your humble servant; then I'm a friar this moment. + +_Old Mir._ Was ever an old fool so bantered by a brace o' young ones! +Hang you both! you're both counterfeits, and my plot's spoiled, that's +all. + +_Oriana._ Shame and confusion, love, anger, and disappointment, will +work my brain to madness! [_Takes off her Habit--Exit._ + +_Y. Mir._ Ay, ay, throw by the rags; they have served a turn for us +both, and they shall e'en go off together. [_Takes off his Habit._ + + [_Exit, throwing away the Habit._ + + +SCENE III. + +OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. + +_Enter_ DURETETE, _with a Letter_. + + +_Dur._ [Reads.] _My rudeness was only a proof of your humour, which I +have found so agreeable, that I own myself penitent, and willing to make +any reparation upon your first appearance to_ BISARRE. + +Mirabel swears she loves me, and this confirms it; then farewell +gallantry, and welcome revenge! 'Tis my turn now to be upon the sublime; +I'll take her off; I warrant her! + + _Enter_ BISARRE. + +Well, mistress, do you love me? + +_Bis._ I hope, sir, you will pardon the modesty of---- + +_Dur._ Of what? of a dancing devil!--Do you love me, I say? + +_Bis._ Perhaps I---- + +_Dur._ What? + +_Bis._ Perhaps I do not. + +_Dur._ Ha! abused again! Death, woman, I'll---- + +_Bis._ Hold, hold, sir! I do, do! + +_Dur._ Confirm it, then, by your obedience; stand there, and ogle me +now, as if your heart, blood, and soul, were like to fly out at your +eyes--First, the direct surprise. [_She looks full upon him._] Right; +next, the _deux yeux par oblique_. [_She gives him the side Glance._] +Right; now depart, and languish. [_She turns from him, and looks over +her Shoulder._] Very well; now sigh. [_She sighs._] Now drop your fan on +purpose. [_She drops her Fan._] Now take it up again. Come now, confess +your faults; are not you a proud--say after me. + +_Bis._ Proud. + +_Dur._ Impertinent. + +_Bis._ Impertinent. + +_Dur._ Ridiculous. + +_Bis._ Ridiculous. + +_Dur._ Flirt. + +_Bis._ Puppy. + +_Dur._ Zoons! Woman, don't provoke me; we are alone, and you don't know +but the devil may tempt me to do you a mischief; ask my pardon +immediately. + +_Bis._ I do, sir; I only mistook the word. + +_Dur._ Cry, then. Have you got e'er a handkerchief? + +_Bis._ Yes, sir. + +_Dur._ Cry, then, handsomely; cry like a queen in a tragedy. + [_She pretending to cry, bursts out a laughing._ + + _Enter Two_ LADIES, _laughing_. + +_Bis._ Ha! ha! ha! + +_Both Ladies._ Ha! ha! ha! + +_Dur._ Hell broke loose upon me, and all the furies fluttered about my +ears! Betrayed again? + +_Bis._ That you are, upon my word, my dear Captain; ha! ha! ha! + +_Dur._ The Lord deliver me! + +_1 Lady._ What! is this the mighty man, with the bull-face, that comes +to frighten ladies? + +_Dur._ Ah, madam, I'm the best natured fellow in the world. + +_Bis._ A man! we're mistaken; a man has manners: the awkward creature is +some tinker's trull, in a periwig. Come, ladies, let us examine him. + [_They lay hold on him._ + +_Dur._ Examine! the devil you will! + +_Bis._ I'll lay my life, some great dairy maid in man's clothes! + +_Dur._ They will do't;--lookye, dear christian women! pray hear me. + +_Bis._ Will you ever attempt a lady's honour again? + +_Dur._ If you please to let me get away with my honour, I'll do any +thing in the world. + +_Bis._ Will you persuade your friend to marry mine? + +_Dur._ O yes, to be sure. + +_Bis._ And will you do the same by me? + +_Dur._ Burn me if I do, if the coast be clear. [_Runs out._ + +_Bis._ Ha! ha! ha! The visit, ladies, was critical for our diversions: +we'll go make an end of our tea. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ YOUNG MIRABEL _and_ OLD MIRABEL. + +_Y. Mir._ Your patience, sir. I tell you, I won't marry; and, though you +send all the bishops in France to persuade me, I shall never believe +their doctrine against their practice. You would compel me to that +state, which I have heard you curse yourself, when my mother and you +have battled it for a whole week together. + +_Old Mir._ Never but once, you rogue, and that was when she longed for +six Flanders mares: ay, sir, then she was breeding of you, which showed +what an expensive dog I should have of you. + + _Enter_ PETIT. + +Well, Petit, how does she now? + +_Petit._ Mad, sir, _con pompos_--Ay, Mr. Mirabel, you'll believe that I +speak truth, now, when I confess that I have told you hitherto nothing +but lies: our jesting is come to a sad earnest; she's downright +distracted! + + _Enter_ BISARRE. + +_Bis._ Where is this mighty victor!----The great exploit is done. O, +sir, [_To the old Gentleman._] your wretched ward has found a tender +guardian of you, where her young innocence expected protection, here has +she found her ruin. + +_Old Mir._ Ay, the fault is mine; for I believe that rogue won't marry, +for fear of begetting such another disobedient son as his father did. I +have done all I can, madam, and now can do no more than run mad for +company. [_Cries._ + + _Enter_ DUGARD, _with his Sword drawn_. + +_Dug._ Away! Revenge! Revenge! + +_Old Mir._ Patience! Patience, sir! [OLD MIRABEL _holds him_.] Bob, +draw. [_Aside._ + +_Dug._ Patience! the coward's virtue, and the brave man's failing, when +thus provoked--Villain! + +_Y. Mir._ Your sister's phrensy shall excuse your madness; and, to +show my concern for what she suffers, I'll bear the villain from her +brother.--Put up your anger with your sword; I have a heart like yours, +that swells at an affront received, but melts at an injury given; and, +if the lovely Oriana's grief be such a moving scene, 'twill find a part +within this breast, perhaps as tender as a brother's. + +_Dug._ To prove that soft compassion for her grief, endeavour to remove +it.--There, there, behold an object that's infective; I cannot view her, +but I am as mad as she! + + _Enter_ ORIANA, _held by Two Maids, who put her in a Chair_. + +A sister, that my dying parents left, with their last words and +blessing, to my care. Sister, dearest sister! [_Goes to her._ + +_Old Mir._ Ay, poor child, poor child, d'ye know me? + +_Oriana._ You! you are Amadis de Gaul, sir.--Oh! oh, my heart! Were +you never in love, fair lady? And do you never dream of flowers and +gardens?--I dream of walking fires, and tall gigantic sights. Take +heed, it comes now--What's that? Pray stand away: I have seen that +face, sure.--How light my head is! + +_Y. Mir._ What piercing charms has beauty, even in madness! + +_Oriana._ I cannot; for I must be up to go to church, and I must dress +me, put on my new gown, and be so fine, to meet my love. Heigho!--Will +not you tell me where my heart lies buried? + +_Y. Mir._ My very soul is touch'd--Your hand, my fair! + +_Oriana._ How soft and gentle you feel! I'll tell you your fortune, +friend. + +_Y. Mir._ How she stares upon me! + +_Oriana._ You have a flattering face; but 'tis a fine one--I warrant +you have five hundred mistresses--Ay, to be sure, a mistress for every +guinea in his pocket--Will you pray for me? I shall die to-morrow----And +will you ring my passing bell? + +_Y. Mir._ Do you know me, injured creature? + +_Oriana._ No,--but you shall be my intimate acquaintance--in the grave. + [_Weeps._ + +_Y. Mir._ Oh, tears! I must believe you; sure there's a kind of sympathy +in madness; for even I, obdurate as I am, do feel my soul so tossed with +storms of passion, that I could cry for help as well as she. + [_Wipes his Eyes._ + +_Oriana._ What, have you lost your lover? No, you mock me; I'll go home +and pray. + +_Y. Mir._ Stay, my fair innocence, and hear me own my love so loud, that +I may call your senses to their place, restore them to their charming +happy functions, and reinstate myself into your favour. + +_Bis._ Let her alone, sir; 'tis all too late: she trembles; hold her, +her fits grow stronger by her talking; don't trouble her, she don't know +you, sir. + +_Old Mir._ Not know him! what then? she loves to see him for all that. + + _Enter_ DURETETE. + +_Dur._ Where are you all? What the devil! melancholy, and I here! Are ye +sad, and such a ridiculous subject, such a very good jest among you as I +am? + +_Y. Mir._ Away with this impertinence; this is no place for bagatelle; I +have murdered my honour, destroyed a lady, and my desire of reparation +is come at length too late. See there! + +_Dur._ What ails her? + +_Y. Mir._ Alas, she's mad! + +_Dur._ Mad! dost wonder at that? By this light, they're all so; they're +cozening mad; they're brawling mad; they're proud mad: I just now came +from a whole world of mad women, that had almost--What, is she dead? + +_Y. Mir._ Dead! Heavens forbid. + +_Dur._ Heavens further it; for, till they be as cold as a key, there's +no trusting them; you're never sure that a woman's in earnest, till she +is nailed in her coffin. Shall I talk to her? Are you mad, mistress? + +_Bis._ What's that to you, sir? + +_Dur._ Oons, madam, are you there? [_Runs off._ + +_Y. Mir._ Away, thou wild buffoon! How poor and mean this humour now +appears? His follies and my own I here disclaim; this lady's phrensy has +restored my senses, and, was she perfect now, as once she was, (before +you all I speak it) she should be mine; and, as she is, my tears and +prayers shall wed her. + +_Dug._ How happy had this declaration been some hours ago! + +_Bis._ Sir, she beckons to you, and waves us to go off: come, come, +let's leave them. + [_Exeunt all but_ YOUNG MIRABEL _and_ ORIANA. + +_Oriana._ Oh, sir! + +_Y. Mir._ Speak, my charming angel, if your dear senses have regained +their order; speak, fair, and bless me with the news. + +_Oriana._ First, let me bless the cunning of my sex, that happy +counterfeited phrensy that has restored to my poor labouring breast the +dearest, best beloved of men. + +_Y. Mir._ Tune all, ye spheres, your instruments of joy, and carry round +your spacious orbs the happy sound of Oriana's health; her soul, whose +harmony was next to yours, is now in tune again; the counterfeiting fair +has played the fool! + + She was so mad, to counterfeit for me; + I was so mad, to pawn my liberty: + But now we both are well, and both are free. + +_Oriana._ How, sir? Free! + +_Y. Mir._ As air, my dear bedlamite! What, marry a lunatic! Lookye, my +dear, you have counterfeited madness so very well this bout, that you'll +be apt to play the fool all your life long.----Here, gentlemen! + +_Oriana._ Monster! you won't disgrace me! + +_Y. Mir._ O' my faith, but I will. Here, come in gentlemen.--A miracle! +a miracle! the woman's dispossess'd! the devil's vanished! + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL _and_ DUGARD. + +_Old Mir._ Bless us! was she possessed? + +_Y. Mir._ With the worst of demons, sir! a marriage devil! a horrid +devil! Mr. Dugard, don't be surprised. I promised my endeavours to +cure your sister; no mad doctor in Christendom could have done it +more effectually. Take her into your charge; and have a care she don't +relapse. If she should, employ me not again, for I am no more infallible +than others of the faculty; I do cure sometimes. + +_Oriana._ Your remedy, most barbarous man, will prove the greatest +poison to my health; for, though my former phrensy was but counterfeit, +I now shall run into a real madness. [_Exit_; OLD MIRABEL _after_. + +_Y. Mir._ What a dangerous precipice have I 'scap'd! Was not I just now +upon the brink of destruction? + + _Enter_ DURETETE. + +Oh, my friend, let me run into thy bosom! no lark escaped from the +devouring pounces of a hawk, quakes with more dismal apprehension. + +_Dur._ The matter, man! + +_Y. Mir._ Marriage! hanging! I was just at the gallows foot, the running +noose about my neck, and the cart wheeling from me.--Oh, I shan't be +myself this month again! + +_Dur._ Did not I tell you so? They are all alike, saints or devils! + +_Y. Mir._ Ay, ay: there's no living here with security; this house is so +full of stratagem and design, that I must abroad again. + +_Dur._ With all my heart; I'll bear thee company, my lad: I'll meet you +at the play; and we'll set out for Italy to-morrow morning. + +_Y. Mir._ A match; I'll go pay my compliment of leave to my father +presently. + +_Dur._ I'm afraid he'll stop you. + +_Y. Mir._ What, pretend a command over me, after his settlement of a +thousand pound a year upon me! No, no, he has passed away his authority +with the conveyance; the will of the living father is chiefly obeyed for +the sake of the dying one. + + Dependence, ev'n a father's sway secures, + For, though the son rebels, the heir is yours. + [_Exeunt severally._ + + + + +ACT THE FIFTH. + + +SCENE I. + +_The Street before the Playhouse._ + +MIRABEL _and_ DURETETE, _as coming from the Play_. + + +_Dur._ How d'ye like this play? + +_Y. Mir._ I liked the company;--the lady, the rich beauty, in the front +box, had my attention: These impudent poets bring the ladies together to +support them, and to kill every body else. + + _For deaths upon the stage, the ladies cry,_ + _But ne'er mind us, that in the audience die:_ + _The poet's hero should not move their pain,_ + _But they should weep for those their eyes have slain._ + +_Dur._ Hoyty, toyty! did Phillis inspire you with all this? + +_Y. Mir._ Ten times more; the playhouse is the element of poetry, +because the region of beauty; the ladies, methinks, have a more +inspiring, triumphant air in the boxes than any where else--they +sit, commanding on their thrones, with all their subject slaves about +them;--Their best clothes, best looks, shining jewels, sparkling eyes; +the treasure of the world in a ring.--I could wish that my whole life +long, were the first night of a new play. + +_Dur._ The fellow has quite forgot this journey;--have you bespoke post +horses? + +_Y. Mir._ Grant me but three days, dear Captain, one to discover the +lady, one to unfold myself, and one to make me happy, and then I'm yours +to the world's end. + +_Dur._ Hast thou the impudence to promise thyself a lady of her figure +and quality in so short a time? + +_Y. Mir._ Yes, sir; I have a confident address, no disagreeable person, +and five hundred Lewis d'ors in my pocket. + +_Dur._ Five hundred Lewis d'ors! you an't mad! + +_Y. Mir._ I tell you, she's worth five thousand; one of her black, +brilliant eyes, is worth a diamond as big as her head. + +_Dur._ But you have owned to me, that, abating Oriana's pretensions to +marriage, you loved her passionately; then how can you wander at this +rate? + +_Y. Mir._ I longed for a partridge t'other day, off the king's plate, +but d'ye think, because I could not have it, I must eat nothing? + + _Enter_ ORIANA, _in Boy's Clothes, with a Letter_. + +_Oriana._ Is your name Mirabel, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Yes, sir. + +_Oriana._ A letter from your uncle, in Picardy. [_Gives the Letter._ + +_Y. Mir._ [_Reads._] + + _The bearer is the son of a protestant gentleman, who, flying for + his religion, left me the charge of this youth._--A pretty + Boy!--_He's fond of some handsome service, that may afford him + opportunity of improvement: your care of him will oblige, + Yours._ +Hast a mind to travel, child? + +_Oriana._ 'Tis my desire, sir; I should be pleased to serve a traveller +in any capacity. + +_Y. Mir._ A hopeful inclination; you shall along with me into Italy, as +my page. + +_Dur._ [_Noise without._] Too handsome--The play's done, and some of the +ladies come this way. + + [LAMORCE _without, with her Train borne up by a_ PAGE. + +_Y. Mir._ Duretete, the very dear, identical she! + +_Dur._ And what then? + +_Y. Mir._ Why, 'tis she! + +_Dur._ And what then, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Then!--Why, lookye, sirrah, the first piece of service I put +upon you, is to follow that lady's coach, and bring me word where she +lives. [_To_ ORIANA. + +_Oriana._ I don't know the town, sir, and am afraid of losing myself. + +_Y. Mir._ Pshaw! + + _Enter_ LAMORCE _and_ PAGE. + +_Lam._ Page, what's become of all my people? + +_Page._ I can't tell, madam; I can see no sign of your ladyship's coach. + +_Lam._ That fellow has got into his old pranks, and fallen drunk +somewhere;--none of the footmen there? + +_Page._ Not one, madam. + +_Lam._ These servants are the plague of our lives--what shall I do? + +_Y. Mir._ By all my hopes, Fortune pimps for me! now, Duretete, for a +piece of gallantry! + +_Dur._ Why, you won't, sure? + +_Y. Mir._ Won't, brute!--Let not your servants' neglect, madam, put your +ladyship to any inconvenience; for you can't be disappointed of an +equipage, whilst mine waits below: and, would you honour the master so +far, he would be proud to pay his attendance. + +_Dur._ Ay, to be sure! [_Aside._ + +_Lam._ Sir, I won't presume to be troublesome, for my habitation is a +great way off. + +_Dur._ Very true, madam, and he's a little engaged; besides, madam--a +hackney coach will do as well, madam. + +_Y. Mir._ Rude beast, be quiet! [_To_ DURETETE.] The farther from home, +madam, the more occasion you have for a guard--pray, madam-- + +_Lam._ Lard, sir---- + [_He seems to press, she to decline it, in dumb show._ + +_Dur._ Ah! The devil's in his impudence! now he wheedles, she smiles--he +flatters, she simpers--he swears, she believes--he's a rogue, and she's +a w---- in a moment. + +_Y. Mir._ Without there! my coach! Duretete, wish me joy! + [_Hands the Lady out._ + +_Dur._ Wish you a----! Here, you little Picard, go follow your master, +and he'll lead you---- + +_Oriana._ Whither, sir? + +_Dur._ To the Academy, child--'tis the fashion with men of quality, to +teach their pages their exercises--go. + +_Oriana._ Won't you go with him too, sir? That woman may do him some +harm, I don't like her. + +_Dur._ Why, how now, Mr. Page, do you start up, to give laws of a +sudden? Do you pretend to rise at court, and disapprove the pleasure of +your betters?--Lookye, sirrah, if ever you would rise by a great man, +be sure to be with him in his little actions; and, as a step to your +advancement, follow your master immediately, and make it your hope, that +he goes to a bagnio. + +_Oriana._ Heavens forbid! [_Exit._ + +_Dur._ Now would I sooner take a cart in company of the hangman, than a +coach with that woman:--What a strange antipathy have I taken against +these creatures! a woman to me, is aversion upon aversion! a cheese, +a cat, a breast of mutton, the squalling of children, the grinding of +knives, and the snuff of a candle. + + +SCENE II. + +LAMORCE'S _Lodgings_. + +_Enter_ MIRABEL _and_ LAMORCE. + + +_Lam._ To convince me, sir, that your service was something more than +good breeding, please to lay out an hour of your company upon my +desire, as you have already upon my necessity. + +_Y. Mir._ Your desire, madam, has only prevented my request:--My hours! +Make them yours, madam, eleven, twelve, one, two, three, and all that +belong to those happy minutes. + +_Lam._ But I must trouble you, sir, to dismiss your retinue, because an +equipage at my door, at this time of night, will not be consistent with +my reputation. + +_Y. Mir._ By all means, madam, all but one little boy--Here, page! + + _Enter_ ORIANA. + +Order my coach and servants home, and do you stay; 'tis a foolish +country-boy, that knows nothing but innocence. + +_Lam._ Innocence, sir! I should be sorry if you made any sinister +constructions of my freedom. + +_Y. Mir._ O, madam, I must not pretend to remark upon any body's +freedom, having so entirely forfeited my own. + +_Lam._ Well, sir, 'twere convenient towards our easy correspondence, +that we entered into a free confidence of each other, by a mutual +declaration of what we are, and what we think of one another.--Now, sir, +what are you? + +_Y. Mir._ In three words, madam,--I am a gentleman, and have five +hundred pounds in my pocket. + +_Lam._ And your name is---- + +_Y. Mir._ Mustapha.--Now, madam, the inventory of your fortunes? + +_Lam._ My name is Lamorce--my birth, noble; I was married young, to +a proud, rude, sullen, impetuous fellow;--the husband spoiled the +gentleman;--crying ruined my face, till at last, I took heart, leaped +out of a window, got away to my friends, sued my tyrant, and recovered +my fortune.--I lived from fifteen to twenty, to please a husband; from +twenty to forty, I'm resolved to please myself, and from thence, upwards, +I'll humour the world. + +_Y. Mir._ Ha! ha! ha! I rejoice in your good fortune, with all my heart! + +_Lam._ O, now I think on't, Mr. Mustapha, you have got the finest ring +there, I could scarcely believe it right; pray let me see it. + +_Y. Mir._ Hum! Yes, madam, 'tis--'tis right--but--but--but--but--but it +was given me by my mother--an old family ring, madam--an old-fashioned, +family ring. + +_Lam._ Ay, sir!--If you can entertain yourself for a moment, I'll wait +on you immediately. + +_Y. Mir._ Certainly the stars have been in a strange, intriguing humour, +when I was born.--Ay, this night should I have had a bride in my arms, +and that I should like well enough! But what should I have to-morrow +night? The same. And what next night? The same. And what next night? +The very same: Soup for breakfast, soup for dinner, soup for supper, +and soup for breakfast again--But here's variety. + + _I love the fair, who freely gives her heart,_ + _That's mine by ties of nature, not of art;_ + _Who boldly owns whate'er her thoughts indite,_ + _And is too modest for a hypocrite._ + + [LAMORCE _appears at the Door; as he runs towards her, Four_ + BRAVOES _step in before her. He starts back._ + +She comes, she comes--Hum, hum--Bitch--Murdered, murdered, to be sure! +The cursed strumpet! To make me send away my servants--Nobody near me! +These cut-throats always make sure work.----What shall I do? I have but +one way. Are these gentlemen your relations, madam? + +_Lam._ Yes, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ Gentlemen, your most humble servant;--sir, your most +faithful; yours, sir, with all my heart; your most obedient--come, +gentlemen, [_Salutes all round._] please to sit--no ceremony--next the +lady, pray, sir. + +_Lam._ Well, sir, and how d'ye like my friends? [_They all sit._ + +_Y. Mir._ O, madam, the most finished gentlemen! I was never more happy +in good company in my life; I suppose, sir, you have travelled? + +_1 Bra._ Yes, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ Which way, may I presume? + +_1 Bra._ In a western barge, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ Ha! ha! ha! very pretty! facetious pretty gentleman! + +_Lam._ Ha! ha! ha! sir, you have got the prettiest ring upon your finger +there-- + +_Y. Mir._ Ah! Madam, 'tis at your service, with all my heart! + [_Offering the Ring._ + +_Lam._ By no means, sir, a family ring! [_Takes it._ + +_Y. Mir._ No matter, madam.----Seven hundred pound, by this light! + [_Aside._ + +_2 Bra._ Pray, sir, what's o'clock? + +_Y. Mir._ Hum! Sir, I have left my watch at home. + +_2 Bra._ I thought I saw the string of it, just now. + +_Y. Mir._ Ods my life, sir, I beg your pardon, here it is!--but it don't +go. [_Putting it up._ + +_Lam._ O dear sir, an English watch! Tompion's, I presume? + +_Y. Mir._ D'ye like, it, madam? No ceremony--'tis at your service, with +all my heart and soul!--Tompion's! Hang ye! [_Aside._ + +_1 Bra._ But, sir, above all things, I admire the fashion and make, of +your sword hilt! + +_Y. Mir._ I'm mighty glad you like it, sir! + +_1 Bra._ Will you part with it, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Sir, I won't sell it. + +_1 Bra._ Not sell it, sir! + +_Y. Mir._ No, gentlemen, but I'll bestow it, with all my heart! + [_Offering it._ + +_1 Bra._ O sir, we shall rob you! + +_Y. Mir._ That you do, I'll be sworn! [_Aside._] I have another at home; +pray, sir,--Gentlemen, you're too modest--have I any thing else that +you fancy?--Sir, will you do me a favour? [_To the First_ BRAVO.] I +am extremely in love with that hat which you wear, will you do me the +favour to change with me? + +_1 Bra._ Lookye, sir, this is a family hat, and I would not part with +it, but if you like it----[_They change Hats._]--I want but a handsome +pretence to quarrel with him--Some wine! Sir, your good health. + [_Pulls_ MIRABEL _by the Nose_. + +_Y. Mir._ Oh, sir, your most humble servant! a pleasant frolic enough, +to drink a man's health, and pull him by the nose! ha! ha! ha! the +pleasantest, pretty-humoured gentleman---- + +_Lam._ Help the gentleman to a glass. [MIRABEL _drinks_. + +_1 Bra._ How d'ye like the wine, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ Very good o'the kind, sir:--But I tell ye what, I find we're +all inclined to be frolicsome, and 'egad, for my own part, I was never +more disposed to be merry; let's make a night on't, ha!--This wine is +pretty, but I have such burgundy at home! Lookye, gentlemen, let me +send for half a dozen flasks of my burgundy, I defy France to match +it;--'twill make us all life, all air, pray, gentlemen. + +_2 Bra._ Eh? Shall us have his burgundy? + +_1 Bra._ Yes, 'faith, we'll have all we can; here, call up the +gentleman's servant.--[_Exit_ FOOTMAN.] What think you, Lamorce? + +_Lam._ Yes, yes--Your servant is a foolish country boy, sir, he +understands nothing but innocence. + +_Y. Mir._ Ay, ay, madam.--Here, Page,---- + + _Enter_ ORIANA. + +Take this key, and go to my butler, order him to send half a dozen +flasks of the red burgundy, marked a thousand; and be sure you make +haste, I long to entertain my friends here; my very good friends. + +_Omnes._ Ah, dear sir! + +_1 Bra._ Here, child, take a glass of wine--Your master and I have +changed hats, honey, in a frolic.--Where had you this pretty boy, honest +Mustapha? + +_Oriana._ Mustapha! + +_Y. Mir._ Out of Picardy--this is the first errand he has made for me, +and if he does it right, I will encourage him. + +_Oriana._ The red burgundy, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ The red, marked a thousand, and be sure +you make haste. + +_Oriana._ I shall, sir. [_Exit._ + +_1 Bra._ Sir, you were pleased to like my hat, have you any fancy for my +coat?--Lookye, sir, it has served a great many honest gentlemen, very +faithfully. + +_Y. Mir._ The insolence of these dogs is beyond their cruelty! + [_Aside._ + +_Lam._ You're melancholy, sir. + +_Y. Mir._ Only concerned, madam, that I should have no servant here but +this little boy--he'll make some confounded blunder, I'll lay my life +on't; I would not be disappointed of my wine, for the universe. + +_Lam._ He'll do well enough, sir; but supper's ready; will you please to +eat a bit, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ O, madam, I never had a better stomach in my life. + +_Lam._ Come, then, we have nothing but a plate of soup. + +_Y. Mir._ Ah! the marriage soup I could dispense with now. + [_Aside.--Exit, handing the Lady._ + +_2 Bra._ Shall we dispatch him? + +_3 Bra._ To be sure; I think he knows me. + +_1 Bra._ Ay, ay, dead men tell no tales; I han't the confidence to look +a man in the face, after I have done him an injury, therefore we'll +murder him. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE III. + +OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. + +_Enter_ DURETETE. + + +_Dur._ My friend has forsaken me, I have abandoned my mistress, my time +lies heavy upon my hands, and my money burns in my pocket--But now I +think on't, my myrmidons are upon duty to-night; I'll fairly stroll down +to the guard, and nod away the night with my honest lieutenant, over a +flask of wine, a story, and a pipe of tobacco. + [_Going off_, BISARRE _meets him_. + +_Bis._ Who comes there? stand! + +_Dur._ Heyday, now she's turned dragoon! + +_Bis._ Lookye, sir, I'm told you intend to travel again.--I design to +wait on you as far as Italy. + +_Dur._ Then I'll travel into Wales. + +_Bis._ Wales! What country's that? + +_Dur._ The land of mountains, child; where you're never out of the way, +'cause there's no such thing as a highroad. + +_Bis._ Rather, always in a high road, because you travel all upon hills; +but be't as it will, I'll jog along with you. + +_Dur._ But we intend to sail to the East Indies. + +_Bis._ East, or West, 'tis all one to me; I'm tight and light, and the +fitter for sailing. + +_Dur._ But suppose we take through Germany, and drink hard? + + [Illustration: INCONSTANT + ORIANA--I CANNOT; FOR I MUST BE UP AND GO TO CHURCH + ACT IV. SCENE III] + +_Bis._ Suppose I take through Germany and drink harder than you? + +_Dur._ Suppose I go to a bawdy house? + +_Bis._ Suppose I show you the way? + +_Dur._ 'Sdeath, woman! will you go to the guard with me, and smoke a +pipe? + +_Bis._ Allons donc! + +_Dur._ The devil's in the woman!--Suppose I hang myself? + +_Bis._ There I'll leave you. + +_Dur._ And a happy riddance: the gallows is welcome. + +_Bis._ Hold, hold, sir, [_Catches him by the Arm, going._] one word +before we part. + +_Dur._ Let me go, madam,--or I shall think that you're a man, and, +perhaps, may examine you. + +_Bis._ Stir if you dare; I have still spirits to attend me, and can +raise such a muster of fairies, as shall punish you to death.--Come, +sir, stand there now, and ogle me: [_He frowns upon her._] Now a +languishing sigh: [_He groans._] Now run, and take my fan,--faster. +[_He runs, and takes it up._] Now play with it handsomely. + +_Dur._ Ay, ay. [_He tears it all in pieces._ + +_Bis._ Hold, hold, dear, humorous coxcomb! Captain, spare my fan, and +I'll--Why, you rude, inhuman monster! don't you expect to pay for this? + +_Dur._ Yes, madam, there's twelve pence; for that is the price on't. + +_Bis._ Sir, it cost a guinea. + +_Dur._ Well, madam, you shall have the sticks again. + [_Throws them to her, and exit._ + +_Bis._ Ha! ha! ha! ridiculous, below my concern! I must follow him, +however, to know if he can give me any news of Oriana. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE IV. + +LAMORCE'S _Lodgings_. + +_Enter_ YOUNG MIRABEL. + + +_Y. Mir._ Bloody hell-hounds! I overheard you:--Was not I two hours ago, +the happy, gay, rejoicing Mirabel? How did I plume my hopes in a fair, +coming prospect, of a long scene of years! Life courted me with all the +charms of vigour, youth, and fortune; and to be torn away from all my +promised joys, is more than death;--the manner too, by villains!--O my +Oriana, this very moment might have blessed me in thy arms!--and my poor +boy! the innocent boy! Confusion!--But hush, they come--I must dissemble +still.--No news of my wine, gentlemen? + + _Enter the Four_ BRAVOES. + +_1 Bra._ No, sir, I believe your country booby has lost himself, and we +can wait no longer for't:--True, sir, you're a pleasant gentleman, but, +I suppose you understand our business? + +_Y. Mir._ Sir, I may go near to guess at your employments; you, sir, are +a lawyer, I presume--you a physician, you a scrivener, and you a stock +jobber.----All cut-throats, egad! [_Aside._ + +_4 Bra._ Sir, I am a broken officer; I was cashiered at the head of the +army, for a coward, so I took up the trade of murder, to retrieve the +reputation of my courage. + +_3 Bra._ I am a soldier too, and would serve my king; but I don't like +the quarrel, and I have more honour than to fight in a bad cause. + +_2 Bra._ I was bred a gentleman, and have no estate; but I must have my +whore and my bottle, through the prejudice of education. + +_1 Bra._ I am a ruffian too; by the prejudice of education, I was born +a butcher.--In short, sir, if your wine had come, we might have trifled +a little longer.--Come, sir, which sword will you fall by? mine, sir? + +_2 Bra._ Or mine? [_Draws._ + +_3 Bra._ Or mine? [_Draws._ + +_4 Bra._ Or mine? [_Draws._ + +_Y. Mir._ I scorn to beg my life; but to be butchered thus!--O, there's +the wine!--this moment for [_Knocking._] my life or death. + + _Enter_ ORIANA. + +Lost! for ever lost!--Where's the wine, child! [_Faintly._ + +_Oriana._ Coming up, sir. [_Stamps._ + + + _Enter_ DURETETE _with his Sword drawn, and six of the_ GRAND + MUSQUETEERS, _with their Pieces presented, the_ RUFFIANS _drop + their Swords_.--ORIANA _goes off_. + +_Y. Mir._ The wine, the wine, the wine! Youth, pleasure, fortune, days +and years, are now my own again! Ah, my dear friends! did not I tell +you, this wine would make me merry?--Dear Captain, these gentlemen are +the best natured, facetious, witty creatures, that ever you knew. + + _Enter_ LAMORCE. + +_Lam._ Is the wine come, sir? + +_Y. Mir._ O yes, madam, the wine is come----see there! [_Pointing to +the_ SOLDIERS.] Your ladyship has got a very fine ring upon your finger. + +_Lam._ Sir, 'tis at your service. + +_Y. Mir._ O ho! is it so? Thou dear seven hundred pound, thou'rt welcome +home again, with all my heart!--Ad's my life, madam, you have got the +finest built watch there! Tompion's, I presume? + +_Lam._ Sir, you may wear it. + +_Y. Mir._ O madam, by no means, 'tis too much--Rob you of all!--[_Taking +it from her._] Good, dear time, thou'rt a precious thing, I'm glad I +have retrieved thee. [_Putting it up._] What, my friends neglected all +this while! Gentlemen, you'll pardon my complaisance to the lady.--How +now! is it civil to be so out of humour at my entertainment, and I so +pleased with yours? Captain, you're surprised at all this--but we're in +our frolics, you must know.--Some wine here! + + _Enter_ SERVANT, _with Wine_. + +Come, Captain, this worthy gentleman's health. + [_Tweaks the First_ BRAVO _by the Nose; he roars_. + +But now, where--where's my dear deliverer, my boy, my charming boy? + +_1 Bra._ I hope some of our crew below stairs have dispatched him. + +_Y. Mir._ Villain, what say'st thou? dispatched! I'll have ye all +tortured, racked, torn to pieces alive, if you have touched my +boy.--Here, page! page! page! [_Runs out._ + +_Dur._ Here, gentlemen, be sure you secure those fellows. + +_1 Bra._ Yes, sir, we know you, and your guard will be very civil to us. + +_Dur._ Take them to justice. [_The_ GUARDS _carry off the_ BRAVOES.] Now +for you, madam;----He! he! he! I'm so pleased to think that I shall be +revenged of one woman, before I die.--Well, Mrs. Snap Dragon, which of +these honourable gentlemen is so happy to call you wife? + +_1 Bra._ Sir, she should have been mine to-night, 'cause Sampre, here, +had her last night.--Sir, she's very true to us all four. + + _Enter_ OLD MIRABEL, DUGARD, _and_ BISARRE. + +_Old Mir._ Robin! Robin!--Where's Bob? where's my boy!--What, is this +the lady? a pretty creature, 'faith!--Harkye, child, because my son was +so civil as to oblige you with a coach, I'll treat you with a cart, +indeed I will. + +_Dug._ Ay, madam, and you shall have a swinging equipage, three or four +thousand footmen at your heels, at least. + +_Dur._ No less becomes her quality. + +_Bis._ Faugh! the monster! + +_Dur._ Monster! ay, you're all a little monstrous, let me tell you. + + _Enter_ YOUNG MIRABEL. + +_Old Mir._ Ah, my dear Bob! art thou safe, man? + +_Y. Mir._ No, no, sir, I am ruined: the saver of my life is lost! + +_Old Mir._ No, he came and brought us the news. + +_Y. Mir._ But where is he? + + _Enter_ ORIANA. + +Ha! [_Runs and embraces her._] My dear preserver! what shall I do to +recompense your trust?--Father, friends, gentlemen, behold the youth, +that has relieved me from the most ignominious death!--Command me, +child; before you all--before my late, so kind, indulgent stars, I +swear to grant whate'er you ask. + +_Oriana._ To the same stars, indulgent now to me, I will appeal, as to +the justice of my claim: I shall demand but what was mine before--the +just performance of your contract to Oriana. [_Discovering herself._ + +_Omnes._ Oriana! + +_Oriana._ In this disguise I resolved to follow you abroad, counterfeited +that letter, that brought me into your service; and so, by this strange +turn of fate, I became the instrument of your preservation; few common +servants would have had such cunning; my love inspired me with the +meaning of your message, because my concern for your safety made me +suspect your company. + +_Dur._ Mirabel, you're caught. + +_Y. Mir._ Caught! I scorn the thought of imposition--Caught! No, 'tis +my voluntary act; this was no human stratagem, but by my providential +stars, designed to show the dangers wandering youth incurs, by the +pursuit of an unlawful love; to plunge me headlong in the snares of +vice, and then to free me by the hands of virtue: Here, on my knees, +I humbly beg my fair preserver's pardon; my thanks are needless, for +myself I owe: And now, for ever, do protest me yours. + +_Old Mir._ Tall, all di dall! [_Sings._] Kiss me, daughter--no, you +shall kiss me first, [_To_ LAMORCE.] for you're the cause on't. Well, +Bisarre, what say you to the captain? + +_Bis._ I like the beast well enough, but I don't understand his paces so +well as to venture him in a strange road. + +_Old Mir._ But marriage is so beaten a path, that you can't go wrong. + +_Bis._ Ay, 'tis so beaten that the way is spoiled. + +_Dur._ There is but one thing should make me thy husband--I could marry +thee to-day, for the privilege of beating thee to-morrow. + +_Old Mir._ Come, come, you may agree for all this;--Mr. Dugard, are not +you pleased with this? + +_Dug._ So pleased, that, if I thought it might secure your son's +affection to my sister, I would double her fortune. + +_Y. Mir._ Fortune! has she not given me mine? my life--estate--my all? +and what is more, her virtuous self?--Behold the foil [_Pointing to_ +LAMORCE.] that sets this brightness off! [_To_ ORIANA.] Here view the +pride, [_To_ ORIANA.] and scandal of the sex! + + What liberty can be so tempting there, [_To_ LAMORCE. + + As a soft, virtuous, am'rous bondage here? [_To_ ORIANA. + + +THE END. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +Punctuation and orthography in the text depart from modern practice, +especially in the use of capitalisation following semi-colon and colon +and in the failure to capitalise such terms as, e.g. christendom. + +On a few occasions where no confusion is possible, Young Mirabel (Y. +Mir.) appears simply as Mirabel (Mir.) + +The name of a character is not italicised where it is immediately +preceded or followed by text in italics. + + +The following substantive changes have been made to the text: + +In Act 2, scene 1, the word "make" was added to the following passage: + + _Old Mir._ Neither! Don't make me angry now, Bob--pray, don't MAKE + me angry. + + +In Act 3, scene 1, a second instance of the word "been" was removed from +the sentence: + + _Y. Mir._ Why sir, han't I been beating (...) + + +Towards the end of Act 3, it is conceivable that the line: + + _Old Mir._ What's that to you, sir? + +should be spoken by Young Mirabel. + + +In Act 5, scene 1, _Dug._ (Dugard) was changed to _Dur._ (Duretete) for +the line: + + The fellow has quite forgot this journey;--have you bespoke post + horses? + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inconstant, by George Farquhar + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INCONSTANT *** + +***** This file should be named 35961.txt or 35961.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/9/6/35961/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.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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