A1r

The Beau Defeated:

Or,
The Lucky Younger Brother.

A
Comedy.

As it is now Acted
By His Majesty’s Servants at the New Theatre in
Lincolns-Inn-Fields.

London,
Printed for W. Turner at the Angel, at Lincolns-Inn-
back-Gate
; and R. Basset at the Mitre, against
Chancery-Lane in Fleetstreet.
1700[1700]

A1v A2r

To Her
Grace
the
Dutchess of Bolton.

Madam,

When the Curious hand of Nature draws
Perfection, when Beauty like yours appears,
all are inspired with Wonder and
Delight, every Heart is filled with Pleasure; because
every Heart is full of you; Pardon my Ambition,
Pardon the daring of a Pen, too weak to Coppy inimitable
Graces; but if none may aim at your lovely
Picture, unless they have Power to do you Justice,
your Praises must be left unsung, and you for
ever adored in Silence.

I own the following Play claims not the least
Merrit to such a Glorious Protection, but that is all
I have to boast, all the reward my Towring Fancy
covets, is centred in my Illustrious Patronesses; this
will to after Ages make my Trifle Sacred, when
they behold prefix’d such Names, whose Virtues
Historians, Poets, and never dying Fame shall join
with me to Eternize.

The A2v

The Dedication

The Play is partly a Translation from the French;
what I added, if it had not the power to please, had
no Immodesty to offend, which I hope will be an
attonement with your Grace, for other Defects in my
Younger Brother; I wou’d have perswaded the
World to prize Desert, before the Gifts of Fortune,
but the major part are too sordid to like the Example,
few are so truly Noble to fix without Intrest, which
makes so very few truly happy in their Choice.

I woul’d have deferr’d Addressing to Your Grace,
till I had aimed at an Offering more Worthy, but
my Charmed Eyes being lately bless’d with the sight
of You, have let into my mind such a Beautiful Idea,
that I liv’d in pain till I express’d my Admiration.

To be Great and Good, and Exquisitly Fair,
are the happiest Epethets Fate bestows on Mortals;
that they are justly Your Graces due, will, I am sure,
be confirmed by an Universal Voice; and that you
may Live long to adorn the Titles, whose Lustre
receive addition from that Beauteous Fame, is the
Eternal wish off

Madam,
Your Graces, most humble,
and most Obedient Servant

,

Mary Pix.

A3r

Dramatis Personæ.

Sir John Roverhead, A Beau, Mr. Bowman.

Elder Clerimont, a Country Squire, Mr. Trout.

Younger Clerimont, Mr. Verbruggen.

Belvoir, his Friend, Mr. Thurmond.

Mr. Rich, a Citizen,

Chris. Servant to Sir John.

Toby and Jack. Servants to the two Clerimonts.

Women.

Mrs. Bracegirdle, Lady Landsworth, A Rich Widow of the North.

Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Rich. a Fantastick City Widow.

Mrs. Bowman, Mrs. Clerimont.

Lucinda, Niece to the Widow Rich.

Her Governess.

Mrs. Prince Lady la Basset and Mrs. Trickwell, Gamesters.

Mrs. Willis, Mrs. Fidget, Landlady to Younger Clerimont.

Betty, Mrs. Rich’s Maid.

Prologue
Spoke by Mr. Bowman.

Your Servant Ladies fair――And how I pray,

Like you my Dress and Garniture to Day.

’Faith I’ve survay’d my self from Top to Toe,

And find I make a most Accomplish’d Beau.

If all these Charms, to win a Fortune fail,

I’le leave Champagne, and drown my shape in Ale;

What care I if I’m bigger than a Whale?

But why should I despair of being Blest.

Can Female Heart withstand a Man thus Drest?

As I was lately Walking in the Mall,

Heav’ns! how the Ladies flock’d about me all.

I’le vow they came so Termagently Fierce on,

I fear’d some strange designs upon my Person.

Says one, and faith the Nymph was well enough,

“Mind, with what Air and Grace he takes his Snuff”,

The second cry’d, “and pray observe his Muff”.

A3v

My Sword-Knot charm’d the fancy of the third,

Poor simple thing she scarce cou’d speak a Word.

“And I”, replies the fourth, “Alass am Slain!

With the Celestial motion of his Cane”.

The Fifth was strangely smitten with my shape;

“Nay hold”, I cried, “you wont commit a Rape?

For mine, and for your own dear sakes be quiet,

Or Ladies I’le endite you for a Riot”.

But hold――there’s something I was begg’d to say,

In favour of our modest Authors Play.

He hop’d you’d like――but Ha! the Bird is Flown, feeling in his Pockets.

No matter, I’le say something of my own.

Know then, our Comedy first came from France,

Which here perhaps, its Fortune may advance.

Ladies, be you as kind as you are pretty,

And you Gallants as merciful as Witty:

Then may both Stage and Poet hope to thrive,

Tis by your Bounty both are kept alive.

Epilogue
Spoken by a Boy.

Custome in England makes poor Poet scrape,

In hopes by that Damnation to escape.

But we our Plot have fetch’d from Foreign Nation,

And there such scraping is no ver good Fashion.

Therefore our Author arm’d with French Assurance,

No Pardon Asks, and owns no ill performance.

But hither sends me à la mode de France,

Messieurs & Dames, to treat you with a Dance.
After the Dance.

Ma foi,――――――――taking Breath.

I have exhausted quite ma respiration,

To please the Ladies, sur ma reputation.

I’de please the Fair, tho’ I were sure of Dying,

I hope I have not strain’d my back with Trying.

Come then ye Beaux, your gayest Smiles put on.

’Twill spoil those dear bewitching looks to Frown.

Alass, why should you your ill nature show?

Starving of us, will nere advavantage you.

A Dam’sell once attack’d by Flesh and Blood,

By this one Argument her Spark withstood;

“You’l ruin me, and do your self no good”.

Then let our Theatre your favour find,

’Tis for your Honour, Gallants, to be kind.

B1r 1

Act I. Scene I.

Enter Mrs. Rich with Betty, her Maid.

Betty.

What’s the matter, Madam? What has happen’d to you? What has
any body done to you?

Mrs. Rich.

An Affront?. . . . Ah! I die: An affront! . . . . I faint: I cannot
speak. A Chair quickly.

Betty.

Giving a Chair.

An affront! to you, Madam, an affront! Is it possible!

Mrs. Rich.

But too true, my poor Betty. Oh! I shall dye. To disrespect me in
the open Street! What Insolence!

Betty.

How, Madam! Not to show respect to such a person as you? Madam Rich; the Widow of an honest Banker, who got Two Hundred Thousand Pounds
in the King’s service? Pray Madam, who has been thus insolent?

Mrs. Rich.

A Dutchess; who had the confidence to thrust my Coach from
the Wall, and make it run back above twenty yards.

Betty.

A very impertinent Dutchess. What! Madam, your person shining all
o’re with Jewels, your new gilt Coach, your dappl’d Flanders with long Tails,
your Coachman with cocking Whiskers like a Swiss Guard, your six Footman cover’d
with Lace more than any on a Lord-Mayor’s day? I say, could not all this
imprint some respect in the Dutchess?

Mrs. Rich.

Not at all. And this beggarly Dutchess, at the end of an old Coach,
drawn by two miserable starv’d Jades, made her tatter’d Footmen insult me.

Betty.

S’life! where was Betty. I’d have told her what she was.

Mrs. Rich.

I spoke to her with a meen and tone proportionable to my Equipage;
but she, with a scornful smile, cry’d hold thy peace, Citizen, struck me
quite dumb.

Betty.

Citizen! Citizen! To a Lady in a gilt Coach, lin’d with crimson Velvet,
and hung round with a gold Fringe.

Mrs. Rich.

I swear to thee, that I had not the force to answer to this deadly
Injury; but order’d my Coachman to turn, and drive me home a full gallop.

Betty.

But Madam, pray consider things rightly, and take this as it was intended;
for, I conceive, it was not against your Person, but your Name, that this Affront
was design’d; and why do you not make haste to change it?

Mrs. Rich.

That I have resolv’d; but I quarrel daily with my Destiny, that I
was not at first a Woman of Quality.

Betty.

Well, well, Madam, you have no great reason to complain; and tho’
you are not as yet a Woman of Quality, you are at least very rich; and you know,
that with money you may buy Quality, but Birth very often brings no Estate.

Mrs. Rich.

That’s nothing; there is something very charming in Quality, and
a great Name.

Betty.

Yet sure you’d think your self in a worse condition, Madam, were you,
as many great Ladies in the World are, who want every thing; and, in spight of B their B1v 2
their great Name, are known, but by the great number of Creditors, that are
bawling at their Doors from morning till night.

Mrs. Rich.

That’s the modish Air, ’tis that distinguishes the People of Quality.

Betty.

Methinks, Madam, ’tis a great satisfaction, to dare to go out at the great
Gate, without being in danger of having your Coach and Horses seiz’d by a troop
of Serjeants: What wou’d you say, if you were oblig’d to return home in a filthy
Hack, as several of Quality have done?

Mrs. Rich.

Ah! would to Heavens, that had happen’d to me, and that I were
a Countess.

Betty.

But, Madam, you don’t imagine――

Mrs. Rich.

Yes, yes, I do imagine, and I had rather be the beggarliest Countess
in the Town, than the Widow of the richest Banker in Europe. Well I am resolv’d;
and, I will be a Countess, cost what it will; and to that intent, I’ll absolutely
break all commerce with those little Cits, by whose Alliance I am debas’d;
and first I’ll begin with Mr. Rich.

Betty.

Mr. Rich, Madam, your Brother-in-Law?

Mrs. Rich.

My Brother-in-Law! my Brother-in-Law! thou simple Wench!
prythee know better!

Betty.

Pardon me, Madam, I thought he had been your Brother-in-Law, because
he was Brother to your Deceas’d Husband.

Mrs. Rich.

That’s true, my Husband’s Brother, but my Husband being Dead,
Fool, Mr. Rich is now no more Kin to me than my Footman; nevertheless the
Fellow thinks himself of Importance, and is continually a censuring my Conduct,
and controuling my Actions: Nay, even the little Minx his Daughter, when we
go in my Coach together, places her self at the end by my side.

Betty.

Little ridiculous Creature!

Mrs. Rich.

But that which Angers me the most, is, that with her little smiling,
mimicking Behaviour, she attracts the Eyes of the whole Town, and I have
not so much as a Glance.

Betty.

What a Foolish Town is this! because she’s young and pretty, they
take more notice of her than you.

Mrs. Rich.

It shall be otherwise, or I’ll see her no more.

Betty.

Nay, your Ladyship will Humble her, for of late you rarely suffer her
to come near you.

Mrs. Rich.

Well, I will have a Title, and a Name, that’s resolv’d; a Name that
shall fill the Mouth.

Betty.

Ah! Madam, a great Name will become you extreamly; but a Name is
not sufficient, I believe you must have a Husband too; and you ought to take
care what choice you make.

Mrs. Rich.

I know the World well enough, and have in my Eye one of the most
Accomplish’d Gentlemen in the Town.

Betty.

How, Madam, already made your choice, and I know nothing?

Mrs. Rich.

Sir John would not let me tell thee.

Betty.

What, Sir John? Sir John Roverhead of Roverhead Castle?

Mrs. Rich.

He himself.

Betty.

Why, Madam, speak seriously, is it Sir John Roverhead you design to Marry?

Mrs. Rich.

Prythee where’s the wonder?

Betty.

Why pray consider, Madam, Sir John is not worth a Groat.

Mrs. B2r 3

Mrs. Rich.

I have sufficient for us both, and there is Justice in what I design.
Mr. Rich did not get his Estate too honestly; and ’tis some kind of Restitution, to
raise up with what he has left me, one of the Ancients Families in the North.

Betty.

Oh! since ’tis a Marriage of Conscience I have no more to say.

Mrs. Rich

Betty.

Betty.

Madam.

Mrs. Rich.

Prythee what’s thy Sirname.

Betty.

Has your Ladyship forgot.

Mrs. Rich.

Dost imagine it worth a place in my memory?

Betty.

Cork, Madam.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, filthy! from henceforth let me call thee de la Bett; that has
and Air French, and agreeable.

Betty.

What you please, Madam.

Mrs. Rich.

De la Bett, whatever Bills the Mechanical fellows, little Trades people
bring ye, let ’em wait, let ’em Walk for’t, and watch my Lever, but if Monsieur
comes that brought the prohibited Gloves, l’eau de fleur d’Orange, and the
Complexion, you understand me, give him his price, and ready Money.

Betty.

Yes, Madam.

Mrs. Rich.

And do ye hear, put a Hundred Guineas in the Embroider’d Purse
for Bassett.

Betty.

Bless me, Madam! have you lost all that I put in yesterday Morning?

Mrs. Rich.

Impertinence! I am sufficiently recompenc’d in Learning the Game,
and the Honourable Company I am admitted into.

Betty.

Indeed, Madam, the Footmen say, Mrs. Trickwell is a perfect Female
Rook, lives upon Gaming, nay, and keeps out on’t, they say, and they can tell.

Mrs. Rich.

Hold your tongue, she is a Woman of Quality, knows every body
at Court, all their Intrigues, is as deep in Affairs, and keeps as many Secrets, as
Maintenon, I’ll be sworn; ma foie. What a word was there! But, as I was saying,
she has told me, and half a dozen Ladies more, Secrets six hours together; and
such Secrets, de la Bett, let me die, were we not Women of discretion, might reach
the Lives, or eternally disgrace, of some that shall be nameless.

Betty.

They are very happy, if they are in her power.

Mrs. Rich.

Peace, has no body sent a How-de-yee yet?

Betty.

No.

Mrs. Rich.

’Tis my horrid Custom of getting up so early in a morning.

Betty.

Madam, ’tis past Twelve.

Mrs. Rich.

And I drest, and have been abroad, Abominable! I charge yee to
morrow don’t bring my Cloaths till past Two, if I am so mad to call for ’em.

Betty.

Wont your Ladyship inquire after my Lady Landsworth’s health, methinks
you neglect her, tho’ she is rich, gay and beautiful, and honours your House
with her choice of it whilst she’s in Town.

Mrs. Rich.

Honours! Who art thou speaking to, Sweet-heart? I do not like
her, she wont play; nay, will sit ye two hours together and speak ill of no body;
she is not fit for the conversation of Quality.

Enter a Boy.

Boy.

Madam, Mrs. Trickwell, and another Lady, is come to teach your Ladyship,
Shombring, I think they call it.

B2 Mrs. B2v 4

Mrs. Rich.

Ombre, Sot, I shall be rid of thee, thou fragment of the shop. De la
Bett
, I’ll go to them, if Sir John comes, call me, not else.

Exit Mrs. Rich and Boy. Enter Lady Landsworth.

Lansworth.

My dear Mrs. Betty, I’m glad to find thee alone.

Betty.

Your Ladyship does me too much honour.

L. Lands

Thou art so discreet and obliging, I cannot love thee too well.
Where’s thy impertinent Mistress?

Betty.

Gone to learn Ombre, with a hundred Guinea’s in her pocket.

L. Lands.

Ha, ha, ha, her pride, ill nature, and Self-opinion, makes her Follies
unpitty’d. I’de fain be rid of the nauseous conversation this House abounds with.

Betty.

Indeed my City Lady turning Courtier, has a hopeful stock of Teachers;
Mistresses grown old, and then forsaken, who, in the tatters of their Prosperity,
pass upon her for decay’d Quality, Female Gamesters, and Fools in abundance.

L. Lands.

They are affected without beauty, or good cloths, tho’ that alone’s
enough to spoil one that had both; their mirth is insipid, and their raillery abusive,
and yet not poinant. For my part, I’ve almost lost my gay humour for fear
of being like ’em; if I continue here one Week longer I shall ’en exchange the
Town, where I expected such pleasure, for my old Yorkshire retirement.

Betty.

Cou’d you but get Mrs. Clerimont to ye, Madam, she’d immediately introduce
you to the Beau Monde, where Wit, Gallantry, and Good Breeding, are
emulators. You say she’s a Relation.

L. Lands.

She is so at a distance, but you see all my sending will not prevail with
her to come at me, nor appoint a time when I shall wait upon her; what can be
the reason?

Betty.

I know not, unless ’tis being here; for truly I fancy, tho’ my Mistress is
fled to Covent Garden, she is as much despis’d by the real Quality, as she is cajol’d
by the Pretenders to it. You say you are not acquainted with Mrs. Clerimont
tho’ related to her: So perhaps she guesses you of our Stamp, and avoids
yee. For Heavens sake Madam, how came yee hither?

L Lands.

Why, I’ll tell thee, Betty, I was married a meer Baby to a very old
Man, who, in his Youth, having been a Debauchee, and dealing only with the
worst of our Sex, had an ill Opinion of all, kept me like a Nun, broke off all
commerce to London, or indeed with any body, not excepting Relations.

Betty.

And cou’d you indure this?

Lady Landsworth,

Most patiently; never found fault with his Woollen Shirts
or Night-Caps, lay all Night to the Musick of his Cough, or the ratling of his
Ptisick, writ nothing but Receipts, scarce ever open’d my Mouth, but out came,
how do ye do, my dear; did the Sirrup I made last please ye?

Betty.

Your Ladyship was a Miracle.

L. Landsworth.

And what do you think I got by doing thus?

Betty.

I don’t know, but I’m sure you deserv’d a great Deal.

L. Landsworth.

Even Three Thousand Pounds a Year, besides Mony, Plate,
and Jewels. This Mrs. Rich’s Husband was my old Man’s Banker, and once I
saw her in the Country, besides she had money of mine in her hands, so to her,
and this dear Town I came; resolving to perticipate all the innocent Liberty my
Youth, my Wealth, and Sex desires.

Betty.

Ah, Madam! had our Sex but your forbearance, they might all be happy.

L.Lady Lands.Landsworth B3r 5

L. Landsworth.

I am of the mind that Fortune offers every mortal their share of
satisfaction; but if they pluck the green Fruit, forestal her purpose, or miss the
ripen’d moment, they rarely have another prospect.

Betty.

Right, Madam, and is it not the same in Love? If a Lady refuses the
Man she likes, all her Adventures in that kind prove aukward and unlucky after it.

L. Landsworth.

Say’st thou so, Mrs. Betty; well I am resolv’d to indulge my
Inclinations, and rather than not obtain the person I like, invert the Order of
nature, and persue, tho’ he flies.

Betty.

Impossible, one glance of yours subdues the proudest Love-defier of them all.

L. Landsworth.

Pho, you flatter; but seriously my dear Confidant, being once
condemn’d to Matrimony without ever asking my consent, now I have the
freedom to make my own choice, and the whole World the Mart. . . . I have the
oddest Whimsies.

Betty.

Then your Ladyship intends to venture upon a second Marriage?

L. Landsworth.

Truly, Mrs. Betty, I believe so, why should we dissemble when
we are alone?――but such a Husband I would have.

Betty.

What sort of a Husband? let’s hear the Marks? that I may try to find
the Man.

L. Landsworth.

He should be Gentile, yet not a Beau; Witty, yet no Debauche;
susceptible of Love, yet abhorring lew’d Women; Learned, Poetical, Musical
without one Dram of Vanity; in fine, very meritorious, yet very modest; generous
to the last degree, and Master of no Estate; mightily in Love with me, and not
so much as know I am worth the Cloaths I wear.

Betty.

Ha, ha, ha, to your Romances again Lady fair, ’tis only there you can
converse with those Heros, this Town affords no such, I can assure you: Modest,
Meritorious, and Genteel, ha, ha, ha, your Pardon, Madam, why such a Wight
would not get his daily Bread, not Rags to cover his Nakedness; tis Frontless
Impudence makes the Grand appearance, and carries the World before it.

L. Landsworth.

I suppose I shall increase your Laughter, when I tell you I fancy
I have found the Man.

Betty.

Madam.

L. Landsworth.

You know, thoroughly tir’d with the Impertinence within, and
not being fitted to give or receive Visits, I have often rambled with my Woman
Incognito――and have done the strangest things.

Betty.

What, for Heavens sake?

L. Landsworth.

Even lost my Heart; in Love, Mrs. Betty, desperately in Love.

Betty.

With whom, dear Madam?

L. Landsworth.

Oh, a pretty Gentleman, who has all those accomplishments
I desire writ in his Face, as plain as――

Betty.

The Nose in’t, I warrant.

L. Landsworth.

Yes truly, for all your jesting: I sate by him in the Play-House
and discover’d his Sense as taking as his Figure.

Betty.

But where was his modesty, when he attack’d a Mask?

L. Landsworth.

That’s your mistake, ’twas I gave the onset, nay, went farther,
appointed him a meeting there again, injoyn’d him not to dog me, nor endeavour
to learn who I was, which he punctually obey’d.

Betty.

And you perform’d your Assignation.

B3 L obscured B3v 6

L. Landsworth.

Yes indeed, last Night; and to try his Generosity, when the
Door-keeper came into the side Box for Money, I seem’d in a great fright, and said,
I had left my purse at home, he immediately offer’d me a Guinea, which tho’ I
accepted, by the melancholy Air of his Face, I guess’d it had not a Twin Brother.

Betty.

Bless me, Madam! that pretence, and taking his mony, made you look
like a Woman of the Town.

L. Landsworth.

So I design’d: I forc’d him to tell me his Name and Lodging, e’r
I’de accept the favour, and now I have a Game to play, wherein you must assist me.

Betty.

In what ever you desire. Oh! Madam, Sir John Roverhead is just upon us.

L. Landsworth.

What luck is this! is there no avoiding the Fop?

Enter Sir John Roverhead, and Chris. his Man.

Sir John.

Ha, Chris.! the beautiful wealthy Widow of the North.

Chris.

Why, Sir, she is not Mrs. Rich.

Sir John.

Sagely discover’d, but she’s better, Mr. Wisdom, more desirable, and
deeper in my Affections.

Chris.

Your Pardon, Sir, I have done.

Sir John.

Stand back. adjusting himself to Chris.

L. Landsworth.

What postures the thing uses, to make it more ridiculous than
nature first design’d it.

Sir John.

Now to be florid. To Chris. Sure some auspicious Planet rul’d
to day, for every Star is witness, how often, when I have made my Visit here, I
have sigh’d to see your Ladyship,――

L. Lands.

Still taking Coach, or Chair. Have I not helpt you out, Sir?

Sir John.

Lord, Madam, such beauty, Wit and Dress what Man can bear?

L. Lands.

Such affectation, folly and nonsense, what Woman can indure? Exit.

Sir John.

Ay hey, Mrs.――Betty, what’s the meaning of this?

Betty.

The effect of her Country ignorance.

Sir John.

It must be so, for I think Chris, I am nicely Dress’d to day.

Chris.

Ay, but perhaps she likes the Inward-man.

Sir John.

She’s a fool, that’s certain. But, Mrs. Betty, I hope my Affairs stand
well with your Lady; this was but a trifle whom I address’d too with my universal
Gallantry, which had she receiv’d, I should have laugh’d at; my Valet
knows ’tis my way to all that make an appearance.

Chris

Under Fifty.

Sir John.

Or above, if they make an appearance.

Betty.

Ay, Sir John, ’tis you alone have the bewitching way, Court all the
World, and catch my unweary Mistress by the by; because ’tis like Quality.

Sir John.

Like! that’s degrading; I’de be an original, like nothing.

Betty.

Nothing sure can be like you.

Sir John.

A witty Baggage this, we must ingage her.

Chris

Withal my heart, secure you the Mistress, and let me alone for the Maid.

Sir John.

Well, but Mrs. Betty, after this idle chat shall we crave leave to see
your Mistress.

Betty.

You may, and you only; she’s at Cards.

Sir John.

I protest thou art charmingly dress’d, and pretty, I vow; what Design
have you to day?

Betty.

Is it to me you speak, Sir?

Sir John.

To whom else?

Betty. B4r 7

Betty.

I thought, like a Poet you were repeating, and design’d the Complement
for the next of Quality you met.

Sir John.

Fie, fie, let me dye if you are not the prettiest, amiable Creature I
know: Prythee who makes thy Mantoe’s; how modestly the little Creature
dresses her Head too!

Betty.

Ha, ha, ha, this is excess of French breeding. But, Sir John, you forget
my Lady expects you.

Sir John.

I shall ever forget her when I look upon thee, my Life, my Soul, “She threw by her Knotting in haste”――Sings.
ho, ho, ho, come along Chris. I’ve shot her flying. “And caught me about my well shap’d wast”――Sings.
ho, ho, ho, Exit. Singing.

Betty.

So, this is the high top Fool in my Lady’s equipage, the favour’d Fool,
and she has enough in her Train to give a Man of sense the spleen but to hear her
Catalogue. Well, since Fortune has thrown me into this Chamber-maid Station,
I’le revenge her Cruelty, and plague her Favourites. No Fool by me shall e’er successful prove,My Plots shall help the Man of Sense in Love.

Act II.

Enter Belvoir meeting Jack.

Belvoir.

How now Jack, is thy Master within?

Jack.

No, Sir.

Belvoir.

No, Sir; Let me come Morning, Noon, or Night, still I am answer’d,
“No, Sir”; ’twas by accident I found his Lodgings, and I plainly perceive he is
deny’d; this is most injurious to our former Friendship, quite contrary to the
Contract made when we were fellow Students, when I was only Clerimonts,
and Clerimont Belvoirs.

Jack.

Ay, Sir, my Master’s strangely alter’d; but I dare not tell.

Belvoir.

Come, for once I’le tempt thee to a breach of Trust, I may do him
service; I hear his Father’s dead.

Jack.

Ah, Sir! that’s his grief, the very fountain of his Discontment.

Bell.

Trust me, Jack, few Young Gentlemen use to break their Hearts for such
a Loss.

Jack.

Yes, if they are Younger Brothers, and left not worth a Groat; ’twill
go a great way with them, a great way indeed, Sir.

Bell.

But he was the Old Lord’s Favourit, who had Land enough without entail
to make my Clermont happy.

Jack.

Alas! Mr. Bellvoir, I find you know not our Story.

Bell.

Not the particulars, only what I’ve heard from fame; if thou believest
me thy Masters Friend, hide nothing from me.

Jack. B4v 8

Jack.

I do, so notwithstanding his Commands, you shall hear our misfortunes.
You know my Master’s Elder Brother, is a perfect Squire, on my Conscience the
product of two Virginities, such an unaccountable Blockhead, that tho’ he gave the
assured proof of spending his Fathers Estate, and did it so ungenteely, that he was
despis’d by Men of Sense, shun’d by all but the unthinking Rabble, Rediculous
even below Lampooning.

Bell.

Why Jack, the Town improves thee beyond the University, thou
grow’st Witty.

Jack.

No, ’tis the Approach of Poverty whets my Spleen; I gad if I am reduc’d
to Rags I’ll spare ne’r an Elder Brother of them all, tho’ he were a Prince.

Bell.

A well a day, for the poor Gentlemen in gilt Coaches. But proceed to
the matter, good Friend John.

Jack.

Why this Dunce, I think I call’d him before, shatter Brains.――

Bell.

Hold.

Jack.

Whose sole delight lay in his Kindred Hounds, who for his Hunting Companions,
entertain’d all the Lubbers of the four adjacent Parishes, till the Country
was going to Petition the Parliament for Labourers; this Monster of the Woods, this――

Bell.

Well what of him.

Jack.

Has got every Penny of my Old Lord’s Estate, whilst my Master, the
most deserving of his Race, (tho’ I say it that should not) is left to Starve, Rob,
Drown, or what he pleases.

Bell.

But how came this to pass, Jack, ha?

Jack.

Why that damn’d jilt Fortune, or her left-handed Daughter, as blind as
she, Chance.

Belvoir.

A mischance upon my word.

Jack.

A confounded one. My old Lord lay long Bed-rid of the Gout, and
the Wight I have describ’d, liv’d in an Estate some few Miles distant, one day
Hunting that way, he bethought himself, and made his sick Father a Visit; but
knowing he could not sit a moment without talking to his beloved Jowler,
Ringwood, &c. takes the whole Kennel along with him into the Chamber, whilst
the t’other Kennel below (I mean the Peasants) were so sharp set, they scarce
left my Lord an unmaul’d Dish to come to his Table.

Bellvour.

Horrid, filthy Brutes!

Jack.

In fine, this so exasperated the old Man that in a rage he burnt his
Will, designing to leave my Master whatever was in his power; but the malicious
Fates decreed it otherwise, for that very night the anger’d Father dy’d suddenly,
and all his Wealth fell to that soft-headed Fool in one Swoop; and the
De’il, I say, do him good with it.

Belv.

Pho, there must be application made to him, Jack, this must not be suffer’d.

Jack.

To his Huntsman apply then, for he’s his only Oracle.

Belvoir.

Their’s Mrs Clerimont in Town his first Cousin, a vast Fortune, and one
who has a larger share of Wit and Goodness; she shall be consulted. What, a
young Gentleman shall never droop for missing a paltry Fortune.

Jack.

Dear Sir, do your best. But now I beg of you to be gone; I hear him
coming, and he will be in such a Passion if he discover I have been talking to you,
or told he was at home; for ’tis his humour to hide from all his Friends.

Belv.

Well, I’le not cross him now, but certainly find out some way to assist him.
Farewel, honest Jack, be sure you prove faithful and kind to him.

Jack. C1r 9

Jack.

Upon my veracity to my uttermost. I only wish to serve him――

Exit Belvoir Jack stands out of sight Enter Clerimont in Mourning.

Cler.

Mine’s not the Mourning of an Heir; Oh! my Noble Father sure I
should have griev’d enough for thee, for thy unspeakable loss, without additional
Calamities: What will become of me, must I wait at proud Men’s doors, and
cring for an admittance? Can I flatter the puft up Lord, and fawn for a vile
Office? Debase my immortal Soul to feed this moulding Clay? ’Tis impossible,
’tis more than Man can bear!

Jack.

Sir.

Cler.

What.

Jack.

I though you call’d.

Cler.

Thou art too officionus; I have advis’d thee oft to leave me, and seek
thy fortune where the Goddess smiles, I am a Wretch that now is sinking lower
than his own dispairing Thoughts can frame.

Jack.

Lord, Sir, is this all the Philosophy you have learn’d, I think I am the
best proficient, starving frights not me half so much as parting; faith, tho’ the
World is crowded with knaves that an honest Gentleman can scarce breath, I’le
jostle stoutly but you shall have Elbow room.

Cler.

Poor Fellow! thou differest from the common Tribe of Servants; they
fly Poverty worse than Infection; or else with sawcy Impudence insult.

Enter a Coachman with a Letter.

Coachman.

Is this Mr. Clerimont’s Lodging?

Jack.

Well, and what then, how came you here without calling me? What’s
your Name, and what’s your Business?

Coach.

Not with you, Sawce-box.

Jack.

How, Sirrah!

Cler.

Peace; my Name is Clerimont.

Coach.

Then, Sir, there’s a Lady in my Coach has sent you this, she says it requires
no Answer.

Gives a Letter and goes off.

Cler.

Ha, Gold! fly Jack, call him back.

Jack.

Pulling in the Coachman.

Heark-yee, you Sneak-nose, Hounds-face, you
have Affronted my Master.

Coach.

Why, fool, I brought him Money.

Jack.

I thought so, ye Pimp, he scorns it.

Cler.

Here, return this back; tell the Lady she mistakes the Man, and I’ll wait
upon her where she appoints, and convince her that she does.

Coach.

Gad, a notable Mistake.

Cler.

Rascal, no fingering. Follow you, and take the Number of his Coach; if
you are not honest, Sirrah, I shall find a time to cut your Ears off.

Jack.

I’ll watch him, I warrant. Bring Money to my Master! Sirrah, get
you gone.

Coach.

Sure they are all distracted!

Cler.

From my Mask in the Play-house: By my Life a very Harlot: How few
in my Circumstances wou’d refuse these offers; but my Nature’s quite otherwise,
I cannot be oblig’d where I contemn, nor live so vile a way: Not but the
temptation’s doubly baited, Profit and Pleasure; for tho’ the Baggage is loose as
the wanton Winds, yet she is Witty beyond her Sex: What a medley’s here.

Reads.

“When I tell ye I am in Love, by that modest Air, and down cast Look of yours, I
guess you’l think me mad, and expect (according to the Damsels in Romance I should ChaveC1v10
have a Fit of Sickness, been at the Point of death, e’er made the discovery: But Women
of my Character are not so nice. I am a Mistress, have abundance of Money, if
you have but little, a wise Man may pick comfort out of this. I send you a Token, as
an earnest of my future favours; agreeable to your wonted Obedience come not to the
Coach, but meet me at Four in the Park, and thank me with your Acceptance”
.

Ha,
ha, ha, ha, I see the Devil’s not wanting on his part, he’de have me a greater
Sinner e’er I come to despair. The Postscript is the same mad stuff. “You shall know me by an affected motion in my
Walk, and a Bell toss with my head, humph!”

Enter Jack.

Jack.

The Lady’s gone, Sir, and the Money too: Gad, Sir, tho’ to please you,
I was in a passion, yet my mouth water’d plaguily at the Gold.

Cler.

What said the Creature?

Jack.

The Creature! Gad she was an Angel. She pull’d off her Mask, I believe,
to laugh freely, for she burst out vehemently; and when the Man said
you’d have none on’t, she gave her self a swing, and cry’d, “the more fool he,
drive on Coachman”
.

Cler.

So merry! but ’tis her time whilst Youth and Beauty lasts; she’ll have
Years enough of Sorrow.

Jack.

Sir, my Landlady’s a coming, you have us’d her so to Sack and Chocolate
in a morning, that she’l ne’er fail you.

Cler.

Pish, I am sick of her Impertinence.

Enter Mrs. Fidget.

Mrs. Fidget[Speaker label not present in original source]

Good morrow Mr. Clerimont; good Lord, still walking with that melanchooly
air! Well, well, were I such a pretty Gentleman, I’de defy Fortune.

Cler.

Prithee, Landlady, what would you have me do; if you think the Ladies
will like me so well, take my Picture and hang it out at your Belcony;
e’en make your best of me, if that will content ye.

Mrs. Fidget.

Fy, fy, you might have private Chamber-practice enough, if you’d
give your mind to’t: Us’d my life, if the young handsome Fellows were like
you, there wou’d never have come so many of them to their Coach and Six.
Let me tell ye, Mr. Clerimont, if I thought you had been of this reserv’d Humour,
I’de not have let my Lodgings to you. I us’d to have Women of Quality
to my fine Gentlemen, and Suppers dress’d in my House have lasted my Family
a Week; besides that put into my hand that shall be nameless, else I had ne’er
liv’d in the Credit you see me in these Twenty Years in the Parish.

Cler.

Good Mrs. Fidget.

Mrs. Fidget.

[Nay you shall hear me.] Brought up my Daughters as I have done:
As fine Women, tho’ I say it, as any that adorn Covent Garden Church.

Cler.

Church! I should rather have thought they’d adorn the Play-house.

Mrs. Fid.

Now out upon you, Mr. Clerimont, my Daughters are never seen at the
Play-house; I bring them up in the fear of Heaven.

Jack.

Yes, and they are both Married in the fear of Heaven too: For neither
of them troubled the Church in that Affair, as I have been told.

Mrs. Fidget.

Well, Saucy-face. But, Mr. Clerimont, what I have said is all for
your good, and I hope you do take it into your Consideration: For truly to day
there came a very pretty Lady, and notwithstanding your Order, I sent up the
Coachman: I am willing to bring you to Preferment.

Clerimont. C2r 11

Cler.

Bring me to the Pox, and to the Devil――

Mrs. Fidget

Marry gap, is this my Thanks!

Cler.

I tell ye, I am tir’d of these morning Lectures, and if my Lodgings cannot
be free from noise and impertinence, I must quit them. Follow me, Jack,
I’ll take the air.

Exeunt.

Mrs. Fidget.

So out of sorts, and gone without giving me my Mornings-
Draught: Why, Master John, Master John, give me the Key of the Closset, I
must rummage it for a Dram of the Bottle: Udsflesh I shan’t be in humour again
this half hour, the Man’s a fool, I think. When Beauty courts the charming Pleasures shun,Be vertuous, tho’ he’s sure to be undone;He’s mad, Udsflesh! I’d sooner turn a Nun.Exit.

Scene draws and discovers Mrs. Rich, Mrs. Trickwell, and Lady la Basset,
Rising from Play.

Mrs. Trickwell

to Mrs. Rich.

I protest your Ladyship plays to a miracle; but
I wou’d not have had you ventur’d Money yet.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh pardon me, Madam, I should not have minded it else. But do
you think I shall ever be capable?

La Basset.

Why, you are perfect already; a wonderful apprehension.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, fie! My Lady la Basset, you compliment in reality; may I hope
to play at Court? I have a great ambition to play at Court: Oh my Stars! I
shou’d torment our City Ladies to death, to talk of Honours done me at Court.

La Basset.

Yes, yes, you shall be introduc’d, and honour’d at Court, I’ll promise
ye, or my Interest fails me; and for setting it out let me alone, I’ll make
their Ears tingle, I faith.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, my dear, dear, Lady Basset, let me imbrace ye, the very conception
on’t is felicity to the hightest degree. Mon Dieu! How we’ll teaze the
little Citty Creatures.

Enter Mrs. Betty.

Betty[Speaker label not present in original source]

Madam, Sir John Roverhead is come to wait on you, and has got some Musick
to entertain your Ladyships.

Exit Betty.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh Heavens! That Master of Accomplishments! Instruct me, dear
Ladies, how to receive him.

Lady Basset.

Seem in a Cabal, then burst out a laughing, and let fall some misterious
Words that tend towards Scandal.

Mrs. Rich.

Good! ridiculous to the highest degree, that ever a Woman of her
Quality shou’d make such a faux pas, the Town will ring on’t: Oh, my Stars!
’Tis something so odd, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Mrs. Trickwell.

Transportingly foolish! Yet it makes me laugh, ha, ha, ha, ha.

La Basset.

Who can forbear, ha, ha, ha.

Enter Sir John.

Sir John Roverhead[Speaker label not present in original source]

Pardon, Ladies, the interruption; may I participate; I dye to laugh in consort
with Women of your Wit and Merit.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh fie! Sir John, ’tis a secret upon my word; we must be tender of
our own Sex; you are but too well acquainted with our weakness; Scandal of an
hour old is as much out of date with you, as a Gazette in the Afternoon to the
Sots that hunt forreign News.

Sir John.

News! gad Madam, there’s no such thing, there’s nothing new underC2derC2v12
the Sun; the World is a continual round of nauseous repetition; in the last
Generation, and this, young Girls were mad for Husbands, then mad to get rid
of ’em; Sharpers, had their Cullies; Gamesters, their Fools; Physicians kill’d
their Patients, and were paid for’t; Lawyers got Estates, and their Clients were
undone with Suing for ’em; Courtiers Promises, and Bullies Oaths, ever made a
great Noise, and signify’d nothing.

Mrs. Rich.

Satyrical, I vow! Why, you are in a mortifying way, Sir John.

Sir John.

Indeed scarce fit to appear before your Ladyship: I have had a Billet-doux
from a Woman of Sixty, which has given me the Spleen to that degree,
I could out-rail a Hypocritical Fanatick.

Mrs. Rich.

Sixty! Pleasant, I protest.

Sir John.

She’s a walking Memento mori; I have suffer’d some time under the
persecution, and in bitterness and Gall, instead of Ink, have wrote a Stanza, to
shew how awkwardly an old Woman makes advances.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, dear Sir John, let us have it.

La Basset.

We are all Petitioners.

Sir John.

You shall Command me, Ladies.

Song by Sir John.

Delia tir’d Strephon with her Flame,

While languishing she view’d him,

The well dress’d Youth despis’d the Dame

But still old Puss pursu’d him.

Some pitty on a Wretch bestow

That lies at your Devotion:

Perhaps some Fifty Years ago,

Some might have lik’d the Motion.

No Heart like mine did ever burn,

I’m rich too, I’le assure you:

And I must tell you in return,

You’re uglier than a Fury.

If you, proud Youth, my Flame despise,

I’le hang me in my Garters:

Why then make hast to win the Prize,

Among Love’s foolish Martyrs.

INTERNAL ERROR. Please report to wwp@neu.edu that cb is unmatched.

Can you see Delia brought so low,

And make her no Requitals?

Delia may to the Devil go

For Strephon, stop my Vitals.

I’le be as Constant as a Dove,

And always we’l be Billing:

No more damn’d Stories of your Love,

Your very Breath is killing.

These Eyes for you shall learn to shine,

That twinkle in their Sockets.

I’le never in a Cellar dine,

When I may go to Lockets.

What in my Charms and Youth I want,

I’le make it up in Duty.

Prithee leave off this foolish Cant,

I’le stoop to nought but Beauty.

After the Song Mrs. Trickwell to Mrs. Rich, aside.

Mrs. Trickwell.

Did you observe how my Lady la Bassett Ey’d Sir John?

Mrs. Rich.

Yes, and am pleas’d with it: I would not have a Fellow pretend to
me, that all the Fine Women in Town are not fond of. Our Thanks in abundance,
’tis wonderful pretty.

To Sir John.

Sir John.

Your Pardon, harsh, and untunable, like the Subject.

Enter Mrs. Betty. Betty speaking to Mrs. Rich aside.

Betty[Speaker label not present in original source]

Mr. Rich will not be answer’d, Madam, I had much ado to keep him out

Mrs. Rich C3r 13

Mrs. Rich.

Ladies, let me beg you would take Sir John into the DrawingRoom,
and entertain him a moment. A hideous Citizen will tease me about a
little Business, but I’ll dispatch him in the third part of a Minute, and rejoyn the
Agreeable Conversation.

Sir John.

We shall wait with Impatience, Madam.

Exeunt severally. Enter Mr. Rich, meeting Mrs. Rich and Betty.

Betty.

There he walks, Madam, he would stay in spight of me.

Mrs. Rich.

Ah, Mr. Rich! What design brings you hither? Your Absence this
Day would have been very obliging; but since you are here, let’s finish pray as
soon as you can. Well, what’s the Business?

Mr. Rich.

Hey-day! What’s this? Good Madam Rich, my Sister-in-Law, how
despisingly you talk? Hark ye, hark ye, this Behaviour does not become ye; and
without telling you what relates to me, you’ll one Day repent of your ridiculous
way of living, and carriage.

Mrs. Rich.

An Elbow-Chair, Betty, I foresee Mr. Rich intends to Talk me to
Sleep.

Mr. Rich.

No, Madam, on the contrary; for were you in your right Senses,
what I have to say would most terribly keep you Awake.

Mrs. Rich.

You strangely concern your self with my Conduct.

Mr. Rich.

And who will concern himself, if I don’t? You are my Daughters
Aunt, Widow of Paul Rich my Brother, and I will not have it said upon the Exchange, That my Brother’s Widow, and Daughters Aunt, is run stark Mad.

Mrs. Rich.

How Mad! You lose all Respect, Mr. Rich; but I shall find a way
to get rid of you, that I may hear no more such Sottish Unmannerly Language,
to which I scorn to answer.

Mr. Rich.

Oh! ’Slife, Madam Rich, you ought to get rid of all your Ridiculous
Airs of Quality and Greatness, that you may receive no more Affronts equal
to this Days.

Mrs. Rich.

You ought not, Mr. Rich, to reproach me of that, where I am only
expos’d, because I’m thought your Sister-in-Law; but there’s an end of that,
Mr. Rich, I’ll have it publish’d in the Gazette, That since my Widowhood, I am
no more your Sister, and so I renounce you for my Brother-in-Law, Mr. Rich;
and since hitherto my Expences, my Noble manner of living, and what I every
Day practice, could never correct the fault of having once been a Citizen’s Wife.
I do now pretend――

Mr. Rich.

Zooks, Madam Rich, ’tis the best part of your History, that Name of
Rich; and had it not been for the good Conduct of the poor Deceas’d, you had
not been in a Condition for so much Pomp and Greatness. I wou’d fain
know――

Mrs. Rich.

Courage, Courage, Mr. Rich, you do well, talk on, talk on, ’tis
your last time.

Mr. Rich.

I wou’d fain know, let me tell you, if it would not be more decent
for you to have a good grave Coach, lin’d with an Olive-colour’d Cloth, a Lean
Coachman in a Dark-brown Coat, a little Modest Boy with short Hair to open
the Door, and a pair of gentle Geldings, than all this sumptuous Equipage, that
makes People inquire who you are; these modish prancing Flanders, that dash
the Industrious People that walk; and all that useless Numerous Train, which makesC3v14
makes you despis’d by the People of Quality, envied by your Equals, and curs’d
by the Mob: You ought, Mrs. Rich, to retrench all this Greatness and Folly with
which you are surrounded.

Betty.

But, Sir――What’s the matter with you, Madam?

To Mrs. Rich.,
who Coughs and Spits.

Mrs. Rich.

I take Breath, Betty, Is not Mr. Rich come to his second Point?

Mr. Rich.

No, good Mrs. Rich, and I return still to the Equipage.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, the long-winded tiresome Man!

Mr. Rich.

Among the rest, what d’ye do with that huge Bulky Coachman,
with his Curling Whiskers like a Dutch Mastiff’s Tail? ’Zbud he looks as if he belong’d
to the Czar of Muscovy.

Betty.

But, Sir, wou’d you have my Lady turn Barber, and shave her Coachman?

Mr. Rich.

No, but she may turn him away, and take another.

Mrs. Rich.

Well, Sir, one Word’s as good as a thousand, I pretend to live as I
please, and will have none of your Council; I laugh at you and all your Reproofs;
I am a widow, and depend on no Body but my self. You come here
and controul me, as if you had an absolute Authority over me. Oh, my
Stars! What rudeness are you guilty of? But it is your City breeding.

Mr. Rich.

Still abusing the City, ’tis a shame, Mrs. Rich, a burning shame. I
tell thee, thou proud vain thing, thou gilt Ginger-Bread; the City is famous for
Men substantial in their Persons, their Purses, their Credits, when your Limberham’d,
this end of the Town Beaux, are the half product of Nature, wretchedly
piec’d up by Art, weak in their Bodies, their Brains, their every thing; and
Udsbones! They have no more Credit, than they have Religion; whilst as I said
before the City is famous for――

Mrs. Rich.

Cuckolds: Good Mr. Rich take my Advice, and take breath; you
have outdone one of our Holders-forth, upon my word ye have.

Mr. Rich.

Mimiking her.

Upon my word ye have; What an Affected Tone’s
there? Gadzooks my Brother Rich was a Fool.

Mrs. Rich.

That’s no wonder; most Citizens are.

Mr. Rich.

Yes, to their Wives, ungrateful Cockatrice; and he Blind――
Credulous Man, to pretend to leave my Daughter a Fortune to your Management,
forsooth: Gadzooks, I had rather he had left her never a Groat.

Mrs. Rich.

So had I; there we agree once, put it down, Betty, for a Miracle.
Oh! Is it done? Have ye said all? Will you go out of my House, or must I go?
Upon my word I have Company waits for me, that are a thousand and a thousand
times more ingaging; Will ye believe me, or no, Mr. Rich?

Mr. Rich.

What Company? Fools, I warrant ’em.

Mrs. Rich.

He must be convinc’d: Perhaps, Betty, that will drive him hence,
open the Door.

Scene draws and discovers Sir John, Lady Bassett, Mrs. Trickwell,
and Vermin a Footman.

Mrs. Rich

continues.

Oh! I am just suffocated with Impertinence, expiring under
the heavy load of Nonsense: Dear Lady Basset revenge me, redicule that lump
of the City till he Frets himself into shape; I’ll introduce ye: Look ye, Sir, this is theC4r15
the Honourable Lady Basset, this is the Ingenious Mrs. Trickwell; the Gentleman
I leave to speak for himself.

Sir John.

I am, Sir.

Mr. Rich.

roughly.

And what are you, Sir?

Sir John.

Why, your humble Servant, Sir, that’s all, Sir.

Lady Bassett.

I vow he nods like the Statue in Don John, ha, ha, he he.

Mrs. Trickwell.

And looks like――

Mrs. Rich.

A Citizen, and that’s rediculous enough of all Conscience, he, he.

Mr. Rich.

Mimiking.

Good lack, he, he, he: Gadzooks you are a parcel of
Tawdry Insignificant Butterflies; if ye provoke me, I’ll draw your Pictures with
a vengeance.

Sir John.

Dawley has done mine at length already, much more to my satisfaction;
it hangs at Court in a Dutchesses Bed-chamber, Citt.

Mr. Rich.

The Devil it does? the Mop that cleans it set upright, and good Drapery,
would be a better Figure.

Lady Bassett.

Filthy Simile.

Mrs. Trickwell.

Why, m’Amie, this is the Reverse of Sir Courtly; a second
Surly, I protest.

Mr. Rich.

Thou wretched Woman, whom I justly shame to call Sister, these
are things that live on thee, prey on thy very substance, and have no more
Worth, or real Quality than the Ornament of Pageants: Look, here’s the Equipage
of one, those Lank Cheeks are to be fill’d out at thy Table; pulls Vermin
forward
and thy Pocket Rook’d at Games thou dost not understand, for
Rigging.

Lady Bassett.

Now out upon ye; stand back Vermin; see if the ill-natur’d
Man has not quite dash’d the Boy? ’Tis the filthy Taylor’s fault.

Mr. Rich.

What, he’ll Trust no longer.

Sir John.

Fie, Mr. Rich, this is prodigiously abusive, upon my Honour; I presume
you’ve never been at the Court.

Mr. Rich.

Nor you at the Camp, which now’s the only way to make a perfect
Courtier: I tell thee, Fop, if thou art known there, ’tis only for thy Folly; thy
Reputation lies in ruining others, which thou dost infallibly, by being once in
their Company; and thy chiefest accomplishment is taking Snuff with a Bel Air,
Patching, Painting, Powdering like a Woman, and squeaking like an Eunuch,
Gadzooks.

Sir John.

Sir.

Mr. Rich.

Look ye, if you are offended, or think the Ladies so, as much a Citizen
as I am, I wear a Sword, and follow me ye Caper-cutter if ye dare.

Sir John.

Some Colonel of the Train-bands, I warrant; I’ll not disorder my
Dress. I am weary of this fulsome stuff; to the Park my Angels, and let’s breath
a little.

All.

Ay, ay, to the Park, to the Park.

Mrs. Rich.

Withal my heart to the Park: Lacquies, is my Coach there? But
my House is at your Service: Cool your self sweet Sir John, whilst we laugh at
this Adventure; shall we not Lady Bassett??

L. Bassett.

I cannot help it.

Sir John.

Nor I upon my Honour.

Exeunt. Laughing. Manent Mr. Rich. and Betty. Mr. C4v 16

Mr. Rich.

Why what the Devil’s to do here, Betty?

Betty.

My Mistress is run stark staring Mad, but I humour her Distraction till we
can find a way to cure it.

Mr. Rich.

Prithee let’s in and consult; I plac’d thee here for that purpose, and
trust in thee.

Betty.

I will ever prove faithful, Sir.

Mr. Rich.

Two powerful Fiends, Lust and Ambition reign

In this Rich, Buxom Widows sickly Brain;

To lay them both, a Husband must be had,

Beauxish and Young, with sounding Titles clad;

But that shall be your Care and mine, ’ygad.

Act III.

Enter Mrs. Clerimont and Belvoir.

Mrs. Clerim.

This is strange News you tell me of my Cousin; I heard indeed
the Unhappy Accident of his Father’s Sudden Death, but
thought he had been still in the Country.

Belvoir.

No, he lives in Town retired, shuns all his Acquaintance; his Noble
Mind surmounts his Fortunes, and he disdains to be obliged; it affects me strongly,
for I loved him with such a Passion; loved him, that I thought till I beheld
your Beauteous self, it could never have been exceeded.

Mrs. Clerimont.

When I reflect how cold our present Friendships are, I needs
must own ’tis nobly Generous in you to seek and serve him in this Distress; nor
shall my Assistance any way be wanting, let us but find the means.

Belvoir.

First we must indeavour to see him, reconcile him to the World, and
try to cure his Melancholy.

Enter Lucinda.

Lucinda.

Madam, there’s a Gentleman below who says his Name is Clerimont.

Belvoir.

Clerimont!

Lucinda.

He seems of some far Country by his Dress and Attendance.

Mrs. Clerimont.

On my Life the Elder Brother: This may prove lucky, bring
him up: Come, Sir, we will have some contrivance how to make the Younger
easie.

Belvoir.

Such Goodness and Ingenuity as yours cannot fail, when ’tis employ’d
for Merit.

Enter the Elder Clerimont and Lucetta, followed by Toby leading
two Hounds coupled.

Cler.

Speaks entring.

Nay, Sweet-heart, dant fear your Rooms, my Dogs
have been in Ladies Chambers afore now, my Lady Mother wou’d let ’em lie
on her Bed rather than cross me: Love me, love my Dog, as the Saying is.
Come along Toby.

Mrs. Cler. D1r 17

Mrs. Cler.

What a Scene is here!

Belvoie.

Exactly as Jack describ’d him.

Elder Mr. Clerimont.

Servant Couz: Do yee see I am come to Lounnon: he ’tis no matter for Ceremony;
I ha just now been bussing Jewel, might-hap you dant care to be kiss’d
after the Dog.

Mrs. Cler.

You are in the right on’t, ’tis not material.

Elder Cler.

I have a free way, Couz, you must excuse me.

Mr.s. Cler.

Oh, you are very welcome.

Elder Cler.

No for matter o’that I shant trouble you, I shall lie in my Inn.
Here’s Toby, my Huntsman, he’d a main mind to see Lounnon, so I did it to please
the Booby; ha Toby.

Toby.

Ne, ne Master, dant; lay it awl upon me; an any bad chance shou’d happen,
you were as forward as I, else we’d ne’r a come; you are a little too stubborn,
by the Mess.

Belvoir.

Well said Toby; Toby has a free way too, I perceive, Sir.

Elder Cler.

Yes marry I allow it him: He is a rare Huntsman. Shew thy
parts Toby, hallow, hallow, Toby.

Toby.

Holla, holla, holla, &c.

Mrs. Cler.

Oh! ’tis mighty well. But, good Cousin, it goes quite thro’ my head.

Elder Cler.

Might hap so, you are used not to it. Ha boys! He’ll make the
Woods ring y-faith.

Belvoir.

’Tis much better there, I believe.

Elder Cler.

Good Lord! it offends your tender Ears, does it? I warrant you
are one of the Zilken Sparks a rough Wind wou’d blow to pieces. Pardon me
Couz, I must be merry.

Mrs. Cler.

O! the Gentleman will take nothing ill from a Relation of mine.

Elder Cler.

Midhap he is your Husband, or midhap he is your Sweet-heart, for
he creeps main close to yee.

Belvoir.

I am the humblest of the Lady’s Servants.

Elder Cler.

Oh ho! her humble Servant, that’s all one; in our Country they
call ’um Sweet-hearts, or Suitors; ’tis e’n all one.

Mrs. Cler.

Pray Cousin, give me leave to ask you if you are married yet, or not.

Elder Cler.

No, by my tackings, I ha e’n more Wit than that comes to; I
learn’d so much by my Dogs.

Mrs. Cler.

By your Dogs?

Elder Cler.

Aye, by my Dogs. See this Couple now how they lear, how
spitefully they look at one another. I tell thee Couz, this is Jewel, and this is
Beauty; the bitch is Beauty, do yee mark me, Couz; there was not two Dogs
in the whole Pack lov’d like these two, they play’d together like two Kittens:
nay, for all they are Hounds, one wou’d not eat without t’other, and now they
are join’d their hate is the same; one snarls, t’other bites, one pulls this way,
t’other that; Gadzooks! they’d either venture hanging to be parted; therefore
no coupling for me, I say, ha, ha, ha, ha, Couz.

Mrs. Cler.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Toby.

Nay, by the Mess this is true, Master has spoken all at once; Master’s
a shrowd man, soth and troth.

D Elder. D1v

Elder. Cler.

Well, but Couz, I come to Lounon a purpose to see Sports we han’t
i’ th’ country, and to spend my money, de yee see.

Mrs. Cler.

What Diversions are you for?

Elder Cler.

Why look yee, I’de vain see a good Bear-baiting, and I’de see the
Tigre, Ah! that’s a parlous Beast; we will see the Tigre, shan’t we Toby?

Toby.

Aye Udslid, tho’ I shall be a little avraid.

Belvoir.

You wou’d not have the Lady carry you to those Places, I hope?

Elder Cler.

Aye, why not, Sir? They’l see I’me a Country Man, and that
wan’t disgrace her, besides I have Four thousand pounds a Year, for all I wear my
own hair, Monsieur Perriwig.

Belvoir.

The more’s the pitty.

Mrs. Cler.

Peace, Mr. Belvoir, we shall lose our design else. Cousin, ’tis impossible
for me to go to the Bear-garden; if you’l oblige me, you shall spend this
day with me, and participate of the pleasures I take, to morrow some fitter Companion
shall shew you what you like better.

Elder Cler.

A match! I dan’t pass upon’t, if I do throw away a day with you.

Mrs. Cler.

We’l first to the Park; and then in the Afternoon to the Play.

Toby.

Ay, d’ye, Master, do ye; Udslid, I ha long’d to zee a Play, e’er since I
zaw the Poppet-shew at our Vare.

Elder Cler.

Come, my poor Dogs! Evads, Coz, you’l scarce think it, Ide as lieve
kiss this poor Creature, as e’er a Lady in Christendom――I’m sure her Breath’s as
sweet; they’l not like London; we must hasten down again, Toby.

Toby.

Ay, Master, when we’ve zeen a little; here’s rare vine Voke!

Mrs. Cler.

Lead, Mr. Belvoir.

Belvoir.

We shall be the Sport of the Park.

Mrs. Cler.

No matter; my Cousin shall Gallant me.

Elder Cler.

Come on, i’faith! Follow, Toby!

Scene the Park.

Enter Lady Landsworth and Mrs. Betty.

L. Lands.

He refus’d it, my best Confidante! Nobly despis’d the shining Gold!
By all my amorous Stars, he has bravely won my Heart! Panting and warm I
feel him there! Oh! the dear God of my desire.

Betty.

In Raptures, nay, then you are lost indeed! Ha! here comes my Lady,
and her worthy Train!

Enter Mrs. Rich., Sir John, &c.

Mrs. Rich.

My Lady Landsworth! Let us only make our Honours en passent――
Mon Dieu! I did not think’t had been in her――I protest to a Miracle!

Mrs. Rich Courtsey’s to L.Lady Landsworth, with ridiculous
Airs. L.Lady Landsworth mimicks her.

Sir John.

Shall we not Address?

Mrs. Rich.

No, no, no, no. Away to the Mall.

Sir John.

Ah me!

Looking amorously on L.Lady Landsworth.

L. Lands.

There’s a Foil to my Hero! What a languishing Air the Fop put on!
When such Stuff as that enters into my Thoughts, I shall turn Girl again, and
play with Babies.

Mrs. Bett.

See! Who walks there in Mourning!

L. Lands.

Bless me! You made me start: ’Tis he! Yes; that’s the shape, where
manly Majesty’s Triumphant! Who wou’d not be in love with Sorrow, when
they see it in that Face: Who wou’d not long to remove the Cause, and dress itD2r19
it up in charming Smiles: Forgive me, Virtue! Forgive, me Love, if I a little
farther make the Trial――Now to disguise my Face and Heart――

Claps on her Mask, and walks carelessly off. Enter Clerimont and Jack.

Jack.

Do ye think ye shall know her, Sir?

Cler.

Know her! ’Tis impossible to mistake! Gay, as the gaudy Sun, or distant
flowry Fields! She moves like Air, and throws her Charms around: But, be not
caught my Soul! She is, what I wou’d still abhor――a Name, wou’d blacken
her Lilly’d Bosom, and wither all the Roses that spread that face of Beauty!

Jack.

But, Sir! If she has a World of Money, Sir,――

Cler.

Peace, Fool!

Jack.

I ha’ done, Sir! But abundance of Money covers a multitude of Faults――
That’s all, Sir!

Cler.

Blockhead!――Why so fast, fair Lady? At this rate, by that time a Man
has over-taken ye, he’l have lost the Breath he shou’d imploy, in saying fine
things――Will ye not stay?

L. Lands.

Not stay! Yes, stay an Age; fixt never to remove: An everlasting
Monument of Love. I know you doat upon Heroique: I have been Reading
three whining Plays this morning, that I may Love in your strain.

Cler.

For Heaven’s sake, tell me truly, what thou art; for, sure, there’s something
in thee I so love and hate, that, were my Fortune kind, I shall ne’er be happy
more.

L. Lands.

I’l tell ye, with a truth equal to the freedom I use; (for sincerity is
all the Virtue I pretend to.) It was my first fate to be kept by an Alderman, but
he was formal, stiff, and too suspicious for my humour; so I fled from him into
the Arms of a brisk, airy, young Collonel; then the Days were spent in Revels.
When he went to Flanders, I Campaign’d it too; but ah! as I had dress’d my
fluttering Hero up, like any Bridegroom, a saucy Bullet came and spoil’d the
work of Tailers, Milleners, and fifty Trades besides: Down dropt the Beau.

Cler.

You speak this without any Concern.

L. Lands.

Alass! grieving for the Dead wou’d spoil us for the Living. Now,
I am a Perqisite of a Country Gentleman; a Man of Gravity, and one of the
pious Senators; a great Stickler against Wenching and Prophaneness. He allows
me Wealth enough, and Liberty enough. Besides him, I have two or three Interlopers,
each fancying himself my Particular, when, for my part, I care not a
straw for any of ’em. But, ah! amongst my numerous Lovers, I know not how,
Myrtillo has crept near my Heart;――That’s meaning you, Sir.

Cler.

The Relation freezes up my Youthful Blood, and checks Desire with horror!
Does none tell thee what a Wretch thou art?

L. Lands.

None. They call me Goddess, Angel, and court me with unbated
Fires; the first, the very earliest Product of the Year, Dainties fit for Queen’s
Tables, still load the board; far-fetch’d Wines, such as unbend the Soul from
Cares, and lock up every Thought that wou’d disturb us;――yet amidst this
flowing plenty; amidst this Crowd of Flatterers, my aukward Fancy sickens at
their offer’d Loves; loaths their soft Indearments, and builds its sole happiness
in manly roughness like Yours.

Cler.

Thou art one of Nature’s Favourites; form’d when she was gay, and
deckt in her own Smiles; yet me you cannot charm; there’s a Rustick, out of D2fashionD2v20
fashion-grace, a modest Innocence, which only takes my Soul; nor can I value
Favors, that may be bought with any other Price than Love.

L. Lands.

Aside

He speaks, as my own Heart had Coin’d the Words: I
wou’d not be too Credulous: Believe me, Sir, I am not us’d to Woo, or be
Refus’d; but, I perceive when once we Love, we quit our Pride; I can bear Reproof
from you; and rather than not see ye; see you still to chide me.

Cler.

No. I must fly, if I’de be safe; I cannot boast a Virtue Stoiceal enough,
to behold you with Indifference; those Eyes were made to Conquer! Oh pity,
that they scatter Contagion only! I could crawl low as the Earth to touch that
beauteous hand; but when I reflect, a sensless Fop, for some vain Present, may riffle
all those Sweets; then, I cou’d eat my Lips, e’er join ’em to Infection――Farewel.

L. Lands.

Stay but some Moments longer; I have a few things more to offer;
hear ’em; perhaps I ne’er may trouble you agen.

Cler.

I shall be Fool’d at last; believe her Love, trust her, and be undone!――
What wou’d ye say?

L. Lands.

Come this way, lest we are observ’d.

They walk backward. Jack and Betty come forward.

Jack.

Is thy Lady so plaguey Rich, say’st thou Damsel?

Betty.

Rich! Why she values a Hundred Pounds, no more than I do a Brass
Farthing――She makes nothing to present a Man she likes, with a Coach and
Six――and your Master here, with his puling Modesty, will stand preaching
Morals, till he has baulk’d her Fancy, and then ’twill be in vain to cry peccavi;
for she, like Opportunity, when once she turns her back, leaves no grasping hold.

Jack.

Hark ye, my Dear, can ye keep a Secret.

Betty.

As well as any of my Sex; according as the Nature of the Secret is; if
’twill make no mischief; take away no Body’s Fame: In short, if ’twill do rather
Good than Harm to divulge it; ten to one but it goes no farther for me.

Jack.

Well, that’s ingenious; and I’l trust thee. This Master of Mine is the
veriest Libertine the whole Town affords; has tir’d Vice in every one of her
shapes; and now, forsooth, for variety, turns Hypocrite, that he may find their
pleasures out.

Betty.

Ha! is’t possible?

Jack.

True, upon my honour; tho’ he’d kill me shou’d he know I discover’d
it; and deny all, with a Face as grave as a Phanatick――Oh! He’s a rare
Mimick.

Betty.

But, how shall my Lady be convinc’d he is such a Rake, if he’l deny it?

Jack.

Our Landlady sells China, bring her thither; my Master will never
know: She’l tell you as much――Aside. I can make my Landlady say
what I will.――Well Jack――thy Brain shall still secure this Cargo.

Betty.

If she thinks it worth her while to inquire, I’l tell her――Look they
are Parting.

Jack.

Udso, so they are indeed――I must after; ply him, my Dear, and
I’l ply thee.

Exeunt Clerimont and Jack.

L. Lands.

Oh my dear Betty! how shall I express my Joys! Sure, such a Man
no Age produced before! He’s the Phænix of his Kind!

Betty.

I wish he prove so.

L. Lands.

Why?

Betty.

Hush! Here comes Mrs. Clerimont, you have so often sent to.

L. Lands. D3r 21

L. Lands.

Ha! dear Betty, tell her who I am.――Now for an Air of Gravity,
and quite another humour, than what I have shown to her Name-sake, lest
they shou’d find me out by description.

Enter Elder Clerimont, Belvoir, and Mrs. Clerimont.

Mrs. Cler.

――is it? Cousin, your most Humble Betty whispers Mrs. Clerimont.
Servant――I ask your pardon a thousand times, for my neglect to wait on
you. I have design’d it every Day; but――

L. Land.

No Excuse, good Madam; Ladies in this Town have too much Bus’ness
on their hands, to throw an hour upon a thing so insignificant, as a Country Relation;
one so remote too, that only claims that Honour by Marriage.

Mrs. Cler.

Nay Madam――

L. Land.

Besides, had you given your self the trouble, ’twou’d have been but
one, I am sure; for my Conversation is only praises of the Country; raving at
every diversion here, because I understand it not; my discourse leaping perpetually
into Yorkshire, and talking for ever of my Turkies, my Dairy, and so forth.

Betty.

aside

Hey! What Maggot’s this?――then am I the most deceiv’d
in the appearance of a Woman, that ever I was in my Life.

Eld. Cler.

A Shroud Gentlewoman this! I like her mainly; pray Mrs. what
made you come to London then?

L. Land.

Truly, Sir, ’twas bus’ness, Monies left in Banker’s hands, by my
Dear Husband Deceas’d――Oh!

Eld. Cler.

Good Soul! she Weeps! so Young, and Weep for a Dead Husband?
Good Soul!

Mrs. Cler.

Melancholy Suits ill with such Charming Youth: Cousin, you have
been Unfortunately by your Affairs driven into a House, the Rendezvous of Fops,
and senseless Cocquets, who have entertain’d you with pleasures so insipid,
they have given you a disgust to those more refin’d, that will reconcile you to
the Pretty Epitome of our Eunglish World the Town.

Eld. Cler.

Marry gap! dan’t spoil the Gentlewoman, Coz, Mahaps she likes
the Country best, why so do I; no offence, I hope Coz.

Bell.

We must not suffer so fair an Enemy. The Play-house, Hide-Park, every
thing shall contribute to force a kinder Opinion from you.

L. Lands.

I have seen it all, and despise it: At the Theatre, am tir’d with the
double Acted Farce on the Stage, and in the side Boxes; the Noisy Nonsense of
the Pit; the Impudence of the Orange Women renders the whole Entertainment
to me, a disagreeable Medley: Then, for Hide-Park, that’s Madness in perfection;
and the poor Lunatick that runs an eternal Circle in his Bedlam Apartment, has,
in my Judgement, equal Pleasure.

Mrs. Cler.

Oh fy, my Lady Landsworth, this cannot be your real thoughts.

L. Lands.

To a Tittle, I assure ye.

Eld. Cler.

I’fackings, the young Woman speaks rarely: why Toby, she has
run down the Lonnoners――Toby! a Lard! where is Toby and the Two Dogs?
So ho, so ho!

Mrs. Cler.

Peace, good Cousin; I believe they are at the Park-Gate.

Eld. Cler.

O my Man? my Dogs? where are they? I shall run Mad! So ho, Toby!

L. Lands.

Mrs. Betty, let’s steal off; I think I have dissembl’d enough for one Day.

Betty.

And I hear you have been met with too――I follow Madam.

Exeunt L. Landsworth and Bety. Elder Cler. D3v 22

Elder Cler.

Why Toby! I say Toby! Speak to thy nown Master, Toby!

Bell.

Come, Sir; we shall find ’em out.

Elder Cler.

Ah never, I fear: Toby, Toby!

Enter Toby, with his Head broke.

Toby.

What ails ye to Baul so? D’ye zee how I have been serv’d! I went to
come in with my Hounds, and an ugly Fellow in Red knockt me down, and
took the poor Curs from me.

Eld. Cler.

Ay ye Coward! where was the Quarter-staff?

Toby.

Why, he had a Sword; zee how my Head’s broke.

Eld. Cler.

I had rather thy Neck were broke than my Dogs lost.

Toby.

Zome wiser than some: Zo had not I――goa out yonder, and ha’um
agen for a Tester.

Eld. Cler.

Go then! Farewal, Cos, you ne’er bring me hither again. I’se
warrant.

Exeunt Eld. Cler. and Toby.

Mrs. Cler.

Let’s after, we must not part thus; and as we go, I’ll tell you my Opinion
of my Lady Landsworth.

Betty.

I confess she is past my apprehension.

Exeunt. Enter Sir John Roverhead and Chris.

Sir John.

With much ado, I have broke from the Widow; I appointed to meet
here the prettiest Rose-bud; if her Fortune equals the Widow, she secures me.

Chris.

Ah Sir! I wish the common Fortune-Hunter’s Fate be not yours, to take
the worst at last.

Sir John.

Fool! that Genius that raised me to this, will, no doubt, preserve me
conspicuous: the Ornament of the Town, and Idol of the Ladies. You must
know Dunce, I love the Young Creature, I am to meet now; and I’de Marry
the Widow.

Chris.

Why then I shou’d think you lik’d her.

Sir John.

Incorrigible Sot! I hate her as the Devil――but has she not Five
Thousand a Year? let that, for ever, stop thy Mouth.

Chris.

Then ’tis the Five Thousand a Year you’d Marry――I ha’ done, Sir,
I ha’ done.

Sir John.

She comes; remember I am the Lord――the Title will strike an
awe into her, and make her refuse me Nothing.

Enter Lucinda, and Governess.

Luc.

But d’ye think he’l come, Governess?

Gov.

I hope his Lordship will.

Luc.

His Lordship! that sounds purdy: I vow my Aunt will Love me, when I
am a great Lady――look――here he is Governess――Oh Gemini! ’tis a dear Man.

Sir John.

My little Angel! this was kind! the place appear’d Gloomy as
Shades beneath, till your bright Eyes, exceeding the Stars, created a double Day.

Luc.

O la! What fine Words he has! Sir――My Lord I mean――I am a
foolish Girl, and know not how to answer, but I am Young, and not unapt to
learn.

Gov.

Nay, I’ll say that for Miss――she was ever as forward as the best of ’em.

Sir John.

Pretty Innocence! She shall not want Instructions Modell’d by me,
the World will own her perfect.

Gov.

And truly, my Lord, she has enough to pay her Teacher.

Sir John.

Hold, hold! Name not Wealth; ’tis a Dross I despise.

Luc. Fie, D4r 23

Luc.

Fie, Governess! Do you think his Lordship Values Money?

Sir John.

Not I, upon my Honor. Aside to Chris. Get it out of the Old One, what she’s worth; lest it prove
not worth my while to follow her any longer.

Chris.

Yes, Sir, yes.

Luc.

Now, my Lord, the reason why I have a mind to be Married, is, because
I may have a little more freedom. I never go any where now, but that
Old Woman’s at my heels; and I have heard ’em say, Wives go where they
will and do what they will.

Sir John.

So sha’t thou, my dear Miss――Aside. Marry, quotha; more
Words than One to that Bargain.

Luc.

But when will you meet me here agen then, and Run away with me?
For I was told, I shou’d be Run away with: They say, most Fortunes are.

Chris.

to Sir John.

Sir――Twenty Thousand Pounds, when she is at Age.

Sir John.

Aside

Very well! Gad I’le Marry her; by that time, I shall have spent
it; broke her Heart, and be ready for another――My dear Blossom, how
happy I am to have gain’d your Affections! Tho’ ’tis no wonder; for the Universality
of Women dye for me.

Luc.

For my part, you spoke to me, for that I like ye; else, truly Mr.――
(pish, my Lord――) I see as fine things walk here, as you.

Sir John.

Oh fie!

Chris.

This is true Nature, a Baby indeed; she has not yet learnt to Dissemble.

Sir John.

Can ye get out in a Morning, my Dear?

Luc.

Yes, any time; I am left wholly to my Governess, and you won her
heart, t’other Morning with some Sack; promise her some more, and she’l bring
me, I warrant.

Sir John.

There’s that will buy Sack: Will ye bring Miss to Morrow, by
Five-a-Clock?

Gov.

Yes, yes, she shall wait on your Honour, no Body minds us at Home: But
we’l serve e’m a Trick.

Chris.

Sir, Sir, Mrs. Rich, and the Company you left, are just coming into
this Walk.

Sir John.

My Dear, Dear, farewel!――One of my Relations, that I dare not
see――Farewel this Instant――keep these Verses to remember me; and to
Morrow――

Luc.

Oh Gemini! If I forget, I’l be hang’d――I shan’t sleep all Night for
thinking on’t. Good b’ye,―― Is he not a pure Man, Nurse?

Exeunt Sir John and Chris.

Gov.

Ay, marry is he――they shan’t think to thrust us up in a Garret; we’l
ha’ Money, and good things, as well as your proud Aunt, and her Folks.

Luc.

Oh la; Mum! here’s my Aunt and all they upon our Backs; what shall
we say now.

Enter Mrs. Rich, Lady La Basset, and Mrs. Trickwel.

Mrs. Rich.

This was furiously odd; to desert us only with the Whim to show
us Airs in Bowing, when we meet.

Luc.

Oh la! [furiously] there’s a hard Word! I’ll learn my Aunt’s Words
that I may appear agreeable to my Lord――furiously――remember, Governess!

Mrs. Rich. D4v

Mrs. Rich.

Mrs. Trickwel, I am sick of the Park; here’s neither the Beaux nor
the Bellemond. Really when Sir John’s gone we search in Vain for Gallantry or
a good appearance.

La Bass.

I wonder how he durst quit the place, when I was here.

Mr.s. Rich.

You!

Mrs. Trick.

Upon my Life, Madam, the Ladies are all Mad for this miracle of
a Knight: I wish your Ladyship had him fix’d in the Matrimonial Noose, that
the rest may burst with Envy.

Mrs. Rich.

Fear not Mrs. Trickwel, I have him with a double Chain; Love and
Interest――ha! This Impertinent Girl here!

Lucind.

Pray don’t be angry, Aunt.

Mrs. Rich.

In the first place, leave off that word Aunt; and make use of Madam:
Or, stay at home with your Father.

Lucin.

But Aunt, since you are my Aunt, Why may I not call you Aunt?

Mrs. Rich.

Why, I being a Woman of Quality, and you but a Citizen’s Daughter,
I cannot, in decency, be your Aunt, without degrading my self in some
measure.

Luc.

Oh, good Aunt, let that not concern you, For I shall be a Woman of
Quality too in a little time.

Mrs. Rich

What says the Girl?

Luc.

’Tis in my power to be as great a Lady as you, Aunt, at least.

Mrs. Rich.

Child!

Lucin.

I am acquainted with a Lord; the handsomest, and most obliging in
the World. I have met him several times in the Park; and he’l Marry me when
I please――therefore never trouble your self, Aunt, about my Quality.

Mrs. Rich.

And what’s this Lord’s Name?

Luc.

They call him my Lord Fourbind; he’s very Rich, and of great Quality,
for he told me so.

Mrs. Rich.

Truly, Niece, I am very well pleas’d, that, notwithstanding the
mean Education your Father bestow’d on you, you have thoughts worthy the
honour I do you, of suffering you to be my Niece; and you are oblig’d to me,
and my Conversation for this.

Luc.

I have another Obligation to desire, Aunt.

Mrs. Rich.

What is that?

Luc.

To Marry as soon as ’tis possible, if you please Aunt, the Gentleman you
Love, that it may Countenance my Marriage with him I Love; that when my
Father wou’d chide me, I may answer him, I have not done worse than my
Aunt.

Mrs. Trick.

You’r in the Right――what a terrible thing is Example!

Aside.

Lucin.

But my Aunt must make what hast she can; my Lord Fourbind, my Lover,
is most furiously impatient.

Mrs. Rich.

Ah! Mrs. Trickwel! Now can I be reveng’d of Mr. Rich! His Daughter
is in Love with a Courtier, and a Courtier with her, and she’s Distracted
to be Marry’d to him――if the Father and Mother wou’d but dye with Vexation,
I shou’d be rid of troublesom Creatures.

Mrs. Trick.

But, Madam, are you resolv’d to assist your Niece in her Design;

Mrs. Rich.

Certainly. And I wou’d not for a Thousand Pound, lose this excellent
occasion of sending Mr. Rich to Bedlam.

Mrs. Trick. E1r 25

Mrs. Trick.

That is very charitable, truly.

Mrs. Rich.

Come Ladies: let’s home to Dinner; this News has pleas’d me.

My Niece, and I, will the Example lead,

Teach City-Dames the way to mend their Breed,

Chuse for our selves; let our dull Parents pray;

Devoutly Cheat; each others Lives betray:

And whilst they Drudge, we’l briskly throw away.

Act IV.

Enter Younger Clerimont.

Cler.

What a Wretch am I! Forsook by Fate; abandon’d to Want and Misery;
my Soul deny’d to use her Faculty; no generous Power to
to help the Afflicted; and, as if this were not enough, my Virtue too, the last
Stake that I cou’d boast of, is going! I love this vitious Creature, in spite of
all her Crimes. Her Charms have won my Heart. Begon, thou soft Intruder,
thou effeminate Passion, only fit for lazy Minds. Have I not Wracks without
thee, to keep me waking? S’Death! What a Dog I am! Going to be kept by
a vile Prostitute! her Drudge; unkennell’d for a Fop, Lord, or some wealthy
Fool; sent to my Post of Watching! Confusion! I’l not indure it!

Walks about Distracted.
Enter Belvoir, Mrs. Clerimont, and Jack.

Jack.

There he is; I must not be seen.

Bel.

My dearest Friend! my Clerimont! What have I done to merit this Unkindness?
Why do’st thou shun those Friends, who fondly Love thee? This
Lady, your Relation, begs to Serve ye.

Cler.

Alas! I am Infectious! The detested Plague Poverty’s upon me! The
meagre Fiend approaches fast, with her Attendants, Starving and Rags! She’l
render me so odious, I shall fly, if possible, my self!

Mrs. Cler.

Better Fortune waits to Crown your Virtues; believe me, Cousin,
it does: Your Brother’s in Town; at my House; send to him.

Cler.

What, to be Answer’d as I was last: If I wou’d be his Bailiff, I might
eat: Curses, I’de sooner feed on my own Flesh! Sue to him, who never knew
Humanity!

Bel.

Well, grant him a Churl; there are a thousand Ways besides to advance
your Fortune.

Cler.

None, but such as I despise.

Mrs. Cler.

Allow me one Request; give me your Company this day, and
submit to my Contrivance; I have Thoughts at work, that may produce your
future peace.

Bel.

My Friend, I am sure, us’d to have more Complaisance, than to deny
a Lady.

Cler.

I am at your dispose; but remember, Madam, nothing shall tempt me for
Bread to do an ill thing.

E Mrs. Cler. E1v 26

Mrs. Cler.

Nor wou’d I offer it.

Bel.

Come with us then; and shake off these melancholy Looks.

Cler.

Impossible!――Jack!

Jack.

Sir?

Cler.

Stay you at home; and, d’ye hear――if any Messages come.

Whispers.

Jack.

I shall, Sir.

Mrs. Cler.

Come, Sir, uncloud that Brow; we won’t leave you in Despair,
tho’ we found you so.

Cler.

Your kindness comes too late:

For if ye cou’d the weight of Fate remove:

I’m Dasht agen; and Curst with guilty Love.

Exeunt.

Jack.

Landlady! Landlady!

Enter Mrs. Fidget.

Mrs. Fidg.

Why, how now Impudence! D’ye think you are in an Alehouse?

Jack.

I humbly beg your pardon, Sweet Madam Fidget.

Mrs. Fidget.

Well, ’tis your Ignorance, I excuse it: What Humour’s your hopeful
Master in now?

Jack.

O these were his Relations, I hope all will be amended: But, Landlady,
humph, Madam, there’s a Plot you and I must carry on for his good.

Mrs. Fidget.

With all my heart, I love a Plot extreamly, I was ever good at
Plotting: But, dear Brother Plotter, let us do nothing rashly.

Jack.

What, a Glass of Sack first; ye shall have it, ye shall have it.

Mrs. Fidget.

Truly, it helpeth Invention.

Jack.

Come here’s prosperity to our honest Endeavour.

Mrs. Fidget.

With all my Spirit.

Jack.

’Tother Glass to the Success.

Mrs. Fidget.

Agreed; now let me know it.

Jack.

There’s a Lady in Love with my Master.

Mrs. Fidget.

What, she that call’d in the Coach?

Jack.

The same.

Mrs. Fidget.

By my troth! a lovely Woman; that there may come no worse
news to England; fill my Glass, Sirrah.

Jack.

Now this Lady is not a Whore, nor a Married Woman, nor a Widow,
nor a Maid――

Mrs. Fidget.

I understand ye.

Jack.

D’ye, faith; why, what is she, say you?

Mrs. Fidget.

A kept Mistress, fool.

Jack.

Right, egad; well, these Londoners are plaguey sharp, we shou’d ne’re
have guess’d in the Country: This Damsel is worth Thousands, and she’d fain
throw away some upon my Master: he, modest Fool, (begging his pardon) he’le
none on’t, forsooth. So I, being cunning, have found out her Humour by her
Appurtenance, her Waiting Gentlewoman, and Lyed my Master into her good
Graces; told her he was a meer Debauche; she partly believ’d me, but comes
to you to be confirm’d; if you can lye, Landlady.

Mrs. Fidget.

Mistrust me not, Jack, I warrant ye; but if he won’t stand to
it, what signifies our Promises.

Jack.

Oh, ’twill create a longer Acquaintance, and truly I’le get some Money
out of her, if he won’t; we must not perish; nor will I forsake him.

Mrs. Fidget. E2r 27

Mrs. Fidget.

Well, I’le do my best in an honest way.

Jack.

Hark, a Coach stops, bring ’em up to show your China, and I’le be there
to confirm what you say.

Mrs. Fidget.

I run.

Exit Mrs. Fidget.

Jack.

’Tis a delicate Age, by Gingo, when the Rake is the fine Gentleman;
and the fine Gentleman is the Lady’s Favourite, egad. Mum, she comes.

Re-enter Mrs. Fidget, with Lady Landsworth and Mrs. Betty.

L. Lands.

Where d’ye Lead me, Madam.

Mrs. Fidget.

O, I always keep my best China in my Chambers.

L. Lands.

This looks like a Gentleman’s Lodging.

Mrs. Fidget.

’Tis so, but he’s very rarely in ’em; he lay Abroad last night, and
sent word he shou’d not be at home till Twelve this night. I have a sad hand
with him; here’s his Man at home, if any of your Misses shou’d send to him;
he has forty Ladies, I think, after him. I must give him Warning, my House will
be scandalous else; tho’ ’tis a good natur’d Wretch, and can look as demure,
I warrant, when a body chides him as any Saint; nay, to some he’le carry himself
like one too.

L Lands.

Aside to Betty.

O horrid, let us be gone, my Ears are blasted!

Betty.

I cou’d have told you as much, but durst not; you seem to be well assur’d.

L. Lands.

Dissembling Wretch! yet I will see him once agen, then in my own
freedom be safe, innocent, and far from this bewitching Town, pass my days
serenely; nor think of false Mankind, nor trust, and therefore be deceiv’d no more.to Jack. Well, then there’s no probability of seeing your hopeful Master to day.

Jack.

Yes, Yes Madam, I can find him in a minute, when the Summons is
to a fair Lady.

L. Lands.

That’s well, thou art a diligent Servant.

Jack.

Aye, Madam, tho’ I say it, I am fit to be e’re a Gentleman’s Pimp in
England, and that’s a bold word, now.

L. Lands.

Excellent Office; pray, Mr. Pimp, then do me the favour to tell your
Master, I’le be here at Five-a-Clock, to look on some China.

Jack.

It shall be done, Madam.

Mrs. Fidget.

If he forgets, fear not Madam, I’le remember.

L. Lands.

No doubt on’t, you have a noble Vocation too, I suppose, tho’ it has but
a course Name; come Betty, farewell, at night I’le chuse some China.

Exit L.Lady Lands.Landsworth

Fidget.

You are very Welcome, Madam.

Jack.

What think ye now, Madam Fidget?

Fidget.

Faith, I know not what to think, her Looks were cold and scornful.

Jack.

Pho, Pho, she’s as wanton and warm as er’e a one of your Daughters,
after a zealous Fit of Devotion.

Fidget.

Impudence! how dare you mention my Daughters so irreverently.

Jack.

Nay, no harm; come let’s in, and take a Glass to clear our Understanding,
and ripen our Plot.

Fidget.

You are an unlucky Dog, I see it in your Face, and will never bring
it to any thing.

Jack.

Thou art Old enough to be a Prophetess, only Truth and you were at
mortal Odds, ever since you eat Chalk and Tobacco pipes.

Fidget.

Thou art a Rogue, but Sack shall attone.

Jack.

Come then.

Exeunt.
E2 Scene E2v 28

Scene changes to Mrs. Rich’s House.

Enter Mrs. Rich,, Lady La Basset, and Mrs. Trickwell.

Mrs. Rich.

Here, Fellows, stand all at your several Posts, and let the World
know I am at home: I will appear in State.

Mrs. Trick.

Why does not your Ladyship establish your Visiting-days?

Mrs. Rich.

I have Mrs. Trickwell, and the rude Town takes no Notice of ’em;
wou’d you believe it, I have sat ye five, six hours, and not a Soul, but an ill-
bred Citizen’s Wife, whose unconscionable Visit lasted the whole time, and her
whole Discourse, let me dye, of the awkward Brutes, her Children: A my Soul
they were begot by her Husband, the things were so ungenteel.

Mrs. Trick.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, what a prodigious deal of Wit your Ladyship has.

Mrs. Rich.

So amongst our selves, I think too; yet wou’d you believe that illmanner’d
Oaf, my Husband’s Brother, had the confidence to tell me the envious
World said I was a Fool, my Lady Basset, a Fool, wou’d you believe it; I say,
that Parts, and sheer Wit, cou’d be so malign’d.

L Basset.

’Tis a censorious World. Aside. I begin to hate her, tho’ I
win her Money, now she’s likely to get Sir John from me.

Enter Lucinda.

Lucin.

O Mame, your La’Ships humble Servant.

Mrs. Rich.

So, that’s pretty well; give your self Airs, Child, When I admit
you into my Company: Umph! pluck up your head: What! no motion with
your Fan: Ah, ’tis awkward, but sure, by my Example, she’l learn.

Mrs. Trick.

To be rediculous. Aside. Mind your Aunt, Miss, if you’d be
the Emblem of Perfection.

Mrs. Rich.

Fie, fie, Mrs. Trickwell, you flatter me.

Lucin.

O la, I can’t make my Fan do like my Aunt’s.

Mrs. Rich.

O my Stars! she’l make a horrid Person of Quality: But prithee,
Neice, how dost thou know this Lord loves thee, hey

Lucin.

Oh Mame, he has told me so, and my Governess says ’tis unmannerly
not to believe a Lord; besides, he makes Verses on me.

Mrs. Rich.

Verses, O my Stars! What a Theme he has chose; let’s see ’em.

Lucin.

Here, Aunt, they be pure Verses; ther’s a hugeous deal of Love in ’em.

Mrs. Rich.

Reads. “I love you, charming Fair one, more Than ever Mortal lov’d before. And tho’, to my surprizing Joy, The little, wanton, beardless Boy Has heard my Prayers, and made you feel, The amorous sharpness of his Steel; Confusion seize me, if my heart, Don’t with a mightier Passion smart.”

La Bass.

What do I hear! Aside And have you the Impudence to say this
Poetry was design’d for you!

Lucin.

Mame!――

Mrs. Rich.

Monkey, the Girl has stolen ’em out of my Cabinet.

Lucin.

Aunt――

Mrs. Rich.

Hold your peace, be gone, and let me never see that young bewitching
Face again.

La Bass. E3r 29

La Bass.

I can hold no longer; the Verses belong to me.

Lucin.

The Verses belong to you! that’s furiously impossible, as my Aunt says;
how should my Lord know you, to make Verses of you; you may look high indeed,
but not so high as a Lord, sure.

Mrs. Rich.

By my Stars that’s well enough; have I not bid ye go, ye little
Impertinence; there must be some Mistake.

Lucin.

There must so, Mame, I warrant your Lover has begg’d ’em of my
Lord, and given ’em you.

Mrs. Rich.

Unlucky Creature, will ye go?

Lucin.

Yes. I’le find my dear Lord, and ask him: Not that I care for the Verses,
so I have the Man.

Mrs. Rich.

What a Confusion I am in; if I break with Lady Basset, she may expose
my foibless to the whole Town; and to brook a Rival――Walks disturb’d.

Mrs. Trick.

Observe how Mrs. Rich is disturb’d; here we shall lose a Bubble for
your foolish Love affair.

La Bassat.

Confound her! have I kept Sir John, and run all the Risques in the
Universe to maintain his Port, and shall he dare Address without my Leave.

Mrs. Trick.

’Twas ever so, Lady Basset; we little Ones doat upon the handsome
Footman first; make a hard shift to Equip him, then some topping Dame swoops
the drest up Fellow, and he forgets his Original.

La Bassat.

I’ll lower his Top-Sail! and make him know he’s mine, and only
mine.

Mrs. Rich.

Is it any happy thing we know, my Lady! that has the Honour
to be yours, and only yours.

La Basset.

Yes verily, a thing you are fond off, and to convince ye how vain
all your hopes are, know he Sacrifices all his Fools to me! here’s a List of ’em,
chaw upon’t and Farewell!

Exit.

Mrs. Rich.

Mondieu! she has won three Hundred Pound of my Money, and
now she Picks a Quarrel with me. Civil I protest.

Mrs. Trick.

Ungrateful Wretch! should I forsake my Friend!

Mrs. Rich.

Never whilst they have Three Hundred Pound left! ’tis against the
Rule of Prudence.

Mrs. Trick.

Alass Madam, what d’ye mean?

Mrs. Rich.

Your Pardon Mrs. Trickwell! I mean nothing; I am angry with the
whole World, will Indulge my ill Nature, and never bless ’em with a smile agen.

Mrs. Trick.

I thought your Ladyship wou’d have allow’d your Lover to have
been beloved.

Mrs. Rich.

But not to Love, ’there’s the Destinction. To increase my spleen,
let’s see what this Fury has left! Reads.
A List of the Fools that doat upon my proper person. So.
Dorimene the Back-biter, at the Gilt-Post in Twatling Square; Very well.
The Rich Amorous Banker’s Widow, removed from behind the Exchange, at
the Citizens Folly, into Covent-Garden. Oh! how I hate my self, for having loved
him.
Miranda the Gilt in Scotland-yard. Arabella the Affected in Pride-Lane, at the
Dressing-Box.
The Lady Hazard, under the Doctors care in Covent-Garden, at the Magdalene.
He’s a Monster. The E3v 30
The Fat Marchioness, with her Shinning Face, near the Red-House in Plaister-
street
. Villain, I’ll see him no more. Betty.

Betty.

Madam.

Mrs. Rich.

’Tis resolved on: I’le see Sir John no more.

Betty.

I believe I hear him.

Mrs. Rich.

Whither do you go?

Betty.

I’me going to meet him, Madam, to tell him you’l see him no more.

Mrs. Rich.

No, no, Betty, let him come in, I will confound him, and see with
what Impudence he’l justify this List.

Betty.

Here he is, Madam.

Enter Sir John..

Sir John.

Ah! are you there, Madam? you cannot imagine my impatience
till I see you?

Mrs. Rich.

From what quarter of the Town come you, Sir? from Twatling
Square? or Covent-Garden? or is it the Rich Amorous Banker you left last?

Sir John.

I know not what you mean, Madam!

Mrs. Rich.

Not what I mean, perfidious Man?

Sir John.

Upon my Honour, Madam, I do not understand you.

Mrs. Rich.

See the Obliging List of your Fools Sir.

Sir John.

Ha, ha, ha, and has this discompos’d your La’ship; only a Frolick at
my Lady Jeerwells: We were all set to abuse our Friends; a Lady put down
her List, and writ me the Leading Coxcomb, at which we laugh’d for half an
hour. I never knew your Ladyship so out in the practice of Quality in my
whole life: Why, the Wit of the Age lies in Abuses. I warrant ye, there’s my
Lady Tossbum did a thousand rediculous things, and at last cry’d for very Vexation,
that none of the Scriblers wou’d put her in Rhime Dogrel.

Mrs. Rich.

I fear I’me in the wrong, Mrs. Trickwell.

Mrs. Trick.

I fear so to; Sir John is nice, at these things extreamly nice.

Mrs. Rich.

Aye, but the Verses, Mrs. Trickwell.

Mrs. Trick.

The Verses, Sir John, the Verses.

Sir John.

Why, that was the very Adventure I was coming to laugh with
your Ladyship about: I must confess I was indiscreet enough to communicate;
my Heart and Tongue being full of my Passion, I went, Madam, to the Chocolate-house,
where I met five or six Wits; Yes, Madam, five or six,; and let not
that astonish you, for we live in a very fertile Age for Wits.

Mrs. Rich.

And what then, Sir?

Sir John.

What then, Madam? Why, they told me, how that my Lord Fourbines
had given these Verses to a Citizen’s young Daughter; that Mr. Flutter
had sent them to a She Friend of his; that Sir Richard Welbred had obtain’d favours
from his Mistress by these Verses, ha, ha, ha, ha. Is not this diverting,
Madam?

Mrs. Rich.

So, I suppose, you are extreamly vain, and pleas’d to see your
Works thus Universal.

Mrs. Trick.

As we are, Madam, we leaders of the Town, and fronters of the
Boxes, when we find a Fashion begun by us, awkwardly aim’d at by all the
little Pretenders to Dress.

Sir John E4r

Sir John.

When, alass, borrow’d Wit, like borrow’d Cloaths, fits none but
the Owners; To you, and you alone, the Song is a propos; my Heart is only
sensible of so much Fire, your Eyes have only power thus to inspire.

Mrs. Trick.

How full of Tenderness is all Sir John says. Aside. I shall deserve
the Five hundred Pounds, Sir John.

Mrs. Rich.

I grant his Expressions are full of Douceurs; but then he wants
Sincerity and Truth, Mrs. Trickwell.

Mrs. Trick.

Truth, in a Compliment, or Courtier, oh fie Madam! ’tis against
the Nature of the thing.

Mrs. Rich.

Why, de la Bet, how charmingly contrary is this to my City-education:
But canst thou believe Sir John’s in love with ought but that dear
Shadow of his, which he’s Caressing so passionately in the Glass.

Betty.

I dare swear that’s his Idol; but your Ladyship will not hear me.

Mrs. Rich.

Yes Betty, I shall take a time, for I am vex’d, but scorn to show it.

Betty.

Madam――

Mrs. Rich.

Peace, see, and admit ’em.

Exit Betty.

Sir John.

Setting his Wig in the Glass.

Pax of this ill-favour’d Curl, how many
Hairs it exceeds his fellows; this Monsieur Cheurnex is a Booby, Demme.

Mrs. Rich.

How Concern’d Sir John is, in his Justification, Madam.

Mrs. Trick.

Aside.

This Fool will lose his Opportunity, and I my Money:
the Glass robs us of your Conversation, Sir John.

Sir John.

No, ’tis the Lady robs me of my self; I am perpetually studying
new Airs only to please her.

Enter Betty.

Betty.

Madam, Mrs. Clerimont, and a world of Company to wait on you.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh my Stars, and are the Indian Curtains drawn, the Wax Candles
ready, the Keys with the gold Strings in the Cabinet-doors. Enter Footmen.

Betty.

Yes, Madam, all is in order.

Mrs. Rich.

Why, Tam, Ralph, Waitwell.

Betty.

So, the Fit of Vanity returns, Aside. they are, Madam, where you
Commanded ’em.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh Heavens! now Sir John shou’d be caught saying fine things to
me, and he’s practising Grimaces in the Glass.

Mrs. Trick.

Sir John, here’s Visitors to the Lady.

Sir John.

Ha! where? Be near me Chriss. we will receive ’em.

Mrs. Rich:

Shall I be laughing, or in a Passion, or how, dear Mrs. Trickwell,
quick, quick, your Instructions: Some say I become a Passion rarely.

Mrs. Trick.

In no Passion, I beseech you, Madame, but that of Joy to see your
Friends: Look, they are here.

Mrs. Rich.

Well, I’le be advis’d, but my City Neighbours sed I chid my
Maids with such a Grace, they’d have given all the World to have done like
me.

Enter E4v 32 Enter Belvoir, Elder Clerimont, Mrs. Clerimont, and Toby.

Eld. Cler.

A neat place this, Toby; but our House i’th’ Country was nigh as
hansome, till the Hounds, and my Hunts-folks tore it about.

Toby.

Aye Master, but ye had not near so much Earthen Ware, that ye had
not, ad our Mopsa wou’d make rare work we it; Udsnigs she wou’d.

Mrs. Cler.

Why, Mr. Bellvoir, I am baulk’d in my design of my Visit; I intended
to have brought the Younger Clerimont, and the Lady Landsworth, to an interview;
and his Man has Whisked him away just as we came out of the Coach.

Bell.

We must on now, there’s no retreating; they look as if they had been
setting themselves this hour.

Mrs. Cler.

I have a sudden whim, prithee assist.

Bell.

What is’t?

Mrs. Cler.

I’le make my Lubberly Cozen pass upon that Fantastick Creature,
for a Beau in disguise.

Bell.

That’s an odd fancy indeed, surely ’tis impossible.

Mrs. Rich.

Sir John! is this the Mode of the Wits, to come into ones House,
and find all the Discourse among themselves.

Sir John.

I am in a Maze, Madam! let us Accost ’em.

Mrs. Rich.

If you please give me leave Sir John, what Honours are these ye
heap upon me, Ma’me; to receive a Visit from the Charming Mrs. Clerimont!

Mrs. Cler.

Charms and Perfections, loose their Signification, when applyed to
any, where Mrs. Rich is by.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, Madam――

Eld. Cler.

Aye, Toby, here’s Words; I brought thee in to learn a little.

Toby.

Udsnigs, ’tis rare, Master.

Sir John.

Mr. Belvoir, I cast me at your Feet.

Belvoir.

Sir John, I kiss your hands.

Sir John.

To Cler.Clerimont

Sir, I am Yours.

Toby.

Nouns, what’s he a going to do, unbuckle Master’s Shooe.

Eld. Cler.

What a plague; ye have run your Mop in my Face, and e’ne
choak’d me with your Powder.

Sir John.

A hey! The meaning of this, my dear Belvoir?

Belvoir.

An uncommon Fancy, Sir John, you cannot find out, I perceive.

Sir John.

Poyson me, ’twas the oddest Reception! for Pluto’s sake, what is he?

Toby.

What is he? Why he is my Master. Udsnigs! dant provoke ’en he’le
have a Game at Fifty Coffs we ye, as well as e’re a Man in Vorty Mile on him.

El. Cler.

Let’n a lone Toby, ’tis another Oth Libken Souls, a high Wind, or a
Shower frights into Fits of the Mother: I dispise en.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh my Stars! who has your Ladyship got with yee?

Mrs. Cler.

Let me beg your private Ear; that Man is the greatest Nicest Beau
in Christendom.

Mrs. Rich.

Ye amaze me Madam.

Mrs. Cler.

Very true upon my Word. That fellow there, that looks so like a
John-a-Nokes, is the Jemmest Valet; a Countess has been in Love with him.

Mrs. Rich. F1r 33

Mrs. Rich.

O my Stars, can I believe you?

Mrs. Cle.

You may, no Creture knows it but my self, I beg ye keep it a secret,
especially from Sir John, or murder will ensue.

Mrs. Rich.

I engage, oh I love a secret extremely, but what could be the
occasion?

Mrs. Cle.

A Lady affronted him, and he swore never to address again, but
in this strange disguise, because his Mistress chose his rival only for having his
Wigg better powder’d, he’ll not alter this behaviour, nor dress, till some
other Lady makes him amends. He’s my relation, I wonder you can’t perceive
some Airs of greatness thro those Clouds.

Mrs. Rich.

Not I, I protest, but the more naturally he does it, he shows his
parts the more.

Mrs. Cle.

He calls his Gentleman Toby. Cou’d you think one bred a Page
had power to put on such a shuffling Gate?

Mrs. Rich.

’Tis a diverting whimsie now one knows it; He, he, he!

Sir Joh.

Won’t ye give me leave to laugh with ye, Ladies, at those strange
figures? I beg it of ye, for I am ready to burst.

Mrs. Rich.

It may be dangerous, Sir John, and I advise you to keep your
countanance. How pretty ’tis to know a thing the rest of the Company does not?

El. Cle.

Come, Cuz, what must we do next, we ha’ stared about us long
enough, Madam. Ha ’yee ne’re a Smoaking Room, and a Cup of hearty
March, ha――

Toby.

Ay fackins, had Master and I been at e’re a Gentleman’s house i’th’
Country, by this time we had been half Seas-over, Udsnigs.

Mrs. Rich.

Rarely performed I vow.

Mrs. Cle.

Now must I keep up the humour, and pretend to direct him.
Fie Cousin, talk of drinking before Ladies, you shou’d entertain them with
fine Conversation and Songs.

El. Cle.

I dan’t pass, and I do gi’yee a Song; come a Hunting Song.

Sir Joh.

Ridiculous.

Mrs. Rich.

Better and better, by my Stars.

Sir Joh.

She seems pleas’d.

to Mrs. Trick.Trickwell.

Mrs. Trick.

I am in the dark.

Mrs. Rich.

Excellent.

Sir Joh.

Excellent! abominable.

Mrs. Cle.

Now if you please, Madam, we’ll pay a Visit to my Lady Landsworth;
my Cousin said he wou’d return.

Mrs. Rich.

Withal my heart, I believe she’s not at home, but the opportunity
will show my apartments.

Sir Joh.

Madam, my hand.

Mrs. Rich.

Your pardon Sir John, this Gentleman’s a stranger.

Sir Joh.

Preferr’d to me!

Ed. Cle.

Stand by, Muskcat, you see the Gentlewoman likes ye not.

Toby.

Well done, Master, egad, he’ll put by a hundred such Limberham’d
Beaus as you, egad, he will cram ’em in a Mouse-hole, I fakings.

Mrs. Cle.

Ah poor Sir John, e’en take that tatter’d Frigat and be content.

Mrs. Trick.

Lets follow and find out the meaning.

Sir Joh.

Ye Gods, and Goddesses; Hell, Devils and Furies, I’ll be reveng’d.

Toby.

Ha, ha, ha, what strange Oaths he has?

Exeunt. F Scene
F1v 34

Scene Changes to younger Cleremont’s Lodgings.

Enter Clerimont and Jack.

Cle.

Where is she! how my desires are changed! Triumphant Love prevails,
a thousand fires shot from those fair Eyes have warmed me; a thousand
Arguments pleading all for Pleasure, lead me on, the Lord within plants and
and heaves my bosom, whilst circling tides rowl round a pace, and give tumultuous
joys.

Jack.

Ay marry Sir, now you look and breath another Man, good fortune
is your slave, she always waits upon the bold.

Cle.

And what know I but the coy Dame, who hides her Face at the least
word a wry, and blushes to be gaz’d on, has in her heart looser fires than
my gay Mistress. How many an honest wretch that ask’d wou’d swear his
Arms infolded a Lucrece, yet truly hugs in the dissembled Saint, a vile Jilt?

Jack.

Right, Sir, right; oh I cou’d burn my Cap for joy to see you thus.

Cle.

She’s coming, and seems in busie talk, let us not disturb her.

Enter Lady Landsworth and Betty.

Betty.

As soon as ever my Lady was ingaged, I fled to over-take ye,
Madam.

La. Lands.

’Twas kindly done, Yonder he stands, methinks I hate him, now
he has lost that modest sweetness which caught my unwary Soul, his looks
are wild and lewd, and all I ever fear’d in men appears in that deceitful face:
I would I were away.

Betty.

Nay, Madam, make this last trial, since you have gone so far.

Cle.

May I yet approach.

La. Lands.

You may, I do remember when we parted last, ’twas on odd
terms, nature seemed reverst, you fled and I pursued in vain, I practised all
my Charms, and tryed my utmost Art in vain, your Vertue like the Mountain
Snow, the nearer I advanced congeal’d the more, and in the bloom of
youth, rigid and cold as frozen Age, you awed me with severity. Are ye
still thus resolv’d?

Cle.

Oh no, I am alter’d quite, my very Soul’s on fire, do not my Eyes
speak for me? I languish, burn and die.

La. Lands.

Then we have conquer’d, and like Libertines we’ll rove, tire every
Pleasure, tread rounds of joy, the Insipid world shall wonder at, but never
know to taste.

Jack.

Nay, we shall live a delicious life that’s certain, ha my dear
Damsel.

Betty.

Peace, and mind your betters.

Cle.

What musick’s in that voice, it dances thro my ears, and puts my
heart in tune: not painted Cherubs, not the first dawn of chearful day, or
opening Spring is half so pleasing. Oh thou art Rapture all, and all Divine,
down at thy lov’d sight each Sense drinks deep draughts of joy.

La. Lands.

Throw off these mourning weeds, and let me dress thee extravagant
as my desires, like a Queen’s favourite, for I wou’d be profuse.

Jack.

Lard, Lard, how fine we shall be.

Cle. F2r 35

Cle.

If there must be profusion, let it be in Love; there lay out all thy
Stock; let days and nights and years serve only to count the acts of Love.

La. Lands.

Yes, and teach us to deceive my Keeper, his Purse must help
our Riots, his Credulity supply our Mirth.

Cle.

Ah, why hast dash’d my rising Extasies with the detested thought that
thou art shar’d, but in thy Arms I’ll lose the goading torment; in those blissful
moments I’m sure thou art only mine, My Life, my All.

Embraces her.

La. Lands.

Stand off thou Monster, viler, worse than Man, let thy Contagious
breath infect at distance. I will remove thee from my sight, and from
my Soul, as far as thou art gone from Honour, Truth, and Honesty.

Jack.

Here’s a turn ye Gods, why what’s the matter now?

Cle.

Madam――

La. Lands.

Speak not, nor dare to stay me, for I’ll leave thee like thy
good Genius in thy distressful hours, never to return. Oh I cou’d Curse
my self, my Follies, to believe there was Vertue in thy Sex, thou vile dissembler:
May it return upon thee; dissembled be thy Joys; dissembled be thy
Friends; above all may thy Mistress prove the Abstract of Dissimulation.

Cle.

Here me but speak.

L. Lands.

No, hast thee to some Mart of Luxury and Shame, Preach
there, but defile my ears no more; away, my Friends, away, Let’s fly that wretch, fly him and all mankind:Now for the Curst pursuer leave a track behind.

Ex.exit La.Lady Lands. and Betty.

Cle.

What’s the meaning of all this?

Jack.

Mad, Sir, raving Mad.

Cle.

Can she be honest?

Jack.

Impossible, had she the roguish Lear, the Tip, the Wink, the every
thing.

Cle.

Peace raskal, she is, and not the world shall hide her from me.

Jack.

Now we must go upon Knight Errantry; nay heaven be prais’d, we
are as poor as Knight Errants already.

Cle.

Fly, Search, Inquire.

She cannot, must not long remain unknown,

She’ll be discover’d by her Charms alone,

I’ll find, I’ll claim, I’ll seize her for my own,

Breath at her feet my Vows, nor thence remove,

Till I am blest with her returning Love.

Act V.

Enter Clerimont, Mrs. Fidget and Jack.

Cle.

Sure ’twas all a Dream, I neither saw nor lik’d, nor lov’d; it was
a Dream, the Gaudy Vision’s vanish’d, and I am waked again to my
calamities; or grant it real, what had I to do with Love? Loves the gay
Banquet of luxurious hours, he shakes his golden wings, and flies detested F2Poverty,F2v36
Poverty, to downy Couches, under gilded roofs he flies,
There lays his wanton head, there revels in the fair ones Eyes.

Jack.

Sir, Sir.

Cle.

When the poor joyn they hardly taste a night of Peace: Strife traces
Hymens steps so close, the haggard thrusts between at Bed, at Board and
drives the gentle God away. Oh! my distracted thoughts: Why do ye follow
me? Is misery denied the privelege to be alone?

Mrs. Fid.

Ah, Sir, ’tis that unlucky Dog your Man has done this.

Jack.

Hist!

Mrs. Fid.

Nay, it shall out.

Cle.

What has he done? Speak!

Mrs. Fid.

Why, Sir――

Jack.

Peace, I say, ye ungrateful Cockatrice; now will not all the Sack I
have ramm’d down that unconscionable throat keep this poor secret in, tho upon
my word, I meant it for the best: Believe that, I beseech you, Sir?

Cle.

What’s the matter? What have ye said?

Mrs. Fid.

Ay, said, there ye have hit it: he has said enough, by my troth.

Jack.

I am sure you always say too much.

Mrs. Fid.

Say ye so, Sirrah, know then, Sir, that hopeful Rogue gave ye
such a Character to the young Gentlewoman, ’twou’d have frighted the Devil.

Jack.

And what said you, Mrs. Dalilah?

Mrs. Fid.

Even the same, by your instigation, thou Tempter.

Jack.

Keep that name to your self, it belongs to you, Woman: I thought
Sir, she lov’d nothing but a Rake, a Madman. I did all for the best, indeed
I did, Sir.

Cle.

No matter; ’tis the malice of my Fate, which wou’d have found an
Instrument, hadst thou been silent

Mrs. Fid.

Come, hang Melancholy, and cast away Care; my mind gives
me, this Damsel will wheel about agen: I never yet knew Man or Woman
weary of an Intrigue, when ’thas gone no further than yours has done.

Jack.

Right: There ye are in the right, I’faith, Landlady.

Mrs. Fid.

Well, sawce, you’ll never leave your Impudence, Landlady;
Blockhead!

Jack.

Thank ye, Madam.

Enter Belvoir.

Bel.

Still with folded arms and looks of sorrow. I come to cheer thee, my
Friend; to make thee laugh, to give thee lasting joy.

Cle.

Impossible!

Bel.

Thy Brother is fallen in Love with the fantastical Widow Rich; her
Wealth and Beauty has Charm’d him: Ye know that he is possess’d of a great
Estate. He never had management enough to be master of Money, and hearing
the Widow has so much he is distracted for’t; whilst she takes him for a
Beau in Masquerade, is wonderfully pleas’d; and, I believe, will be a Match.

Cle.

And what’s all this to me?

Bel.

Oh! much to your advantage; for he has promis’d Mrs. Clerimont, if
she can bring this Marriage to pass, he will resign that part of the Estate to
you, your Father in his life time had design’d ye.

Cle.

There thou speak’st comfort that suits my wishes, for I wou’d fain Travel,
but want the means.

Bel.

Travel!

Cle. My F3r 37

Cle.

My Friend, ’tis not Wealth can make me happy now.

Jack.

Ah, Sir, but Wealth’s a good stroak: I see Providence has not quite
forgot us.

Bel.

Whatever you have resolv’d, I beg ye to go this moment with me
to Mrs. Clerimont’s: A busie minute now is worth a lazy year.

Cle.

Do even what you please with me.

Bel.

Come on then.

Mrs. Fid.

Good luck attend ye.

Exeunt.

Scene, Mrs. Rich’s House.

Enter Mrs. Rich, and two Footmen.

Mrs. Rich.

I design a Ball to night, sots, and wou’d have, if possible, you
Rascals clean; and you, d’ye hear――

Enter Lady Basset and Vermin.

La. Bas.

I’ll fright this little pretender to Quality, till she either quits Sir
John
, or buys him of me at a good round rate; he has made many a penny
of me, now ’tis time to retaliate. Madam, send off your Footmen; I wou’d
speak with ye alone.

Mrs. Rich.

Madam!

La. Bas.

Be gone, Scoundrels, or I shall drive ye hence.

Mrs. Rich.

Fellows, be near me, I know not what her design is.

La. Bas.

My design is honourable.

Mrs. Rich.

Heavens! What can she mean?

La. Bas.

Base Coward, are ye afraid?

Mrs. Rich.

Afraid, Madam: I! I――

La. Bas.

Come, no dallying; you have rob’d me of Sir John: I demand satisfaction.

Mrs. Rich.

O my Stars! This is extravagant to the last degree. Alas, Madam,
what satisfaction can a Lady give to a Lady.

L. Bas.

I’d have thee fight. Dare you set up for Quality, and dare not fight,
pitiful Citizen: ’Tis for thy honour; ’tis modish too, extreamly French,
and agreeable to thy own phrase. I’ll have thee fight, I say:

Mrs. Rich.

What need I, when I have Conquer’d already: Can I help the
power of my Eyes, or Sir John’s sensibility. My Stars, this is prodigious!
What Weapon must we use in this unusual Combat, hey, Madam?

La. Bas.

D’ye make a jest on’t. Sword and Pistol, Madam.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, Heavens! I swoon at the sight of either.

La. Bas.

Thou art the Off-spring of an Alderman, I of Quality: I can
Fight, Ride, Play; equal the Men in any Vertue or Vice. Thou little Creature,
yield, or sa, sa――Thus for Sir John: Sa, sa.

Mrs. Rich.

The Woman’s mad: Will ye come in my house and murder me?

La. Bas.

Look, is this a Jest?

Draws a Pistol.

Mrs. Rich.

Murder! Murder. Jack! Geffery! George! Help! Help!

Enter Mr. Rich.

Mr. Rich.

Hey day! What’s the House turn’d into a perfect Bedlam, learning
to fence, Madam Whimsical?

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, Brother, save me from that furious Woman, and I’ll submit,
for the future, to your Conduct.

La. Bas. F3v 38

La. Bas.

aside.

Curse on him; this is a sensible Fellow, and my design’s lost.

Mr. Rich.

And what are you, a Lady Errant, and this the ’Squire of the
body: He looks as if he lived upon Adventures indeed.

La. Bas.

No matter what I am. I am mad.

Mr. Rich.

I believe so.

Mrs. Rich.

I shan’t recover the fright this twelve month.

La. Bas.

She wou’d be a Woman of Quality, and dares not fight: By the honour
of my Ancestors, I’ll go find out Sir John, and if he does not change his
resolution, he and I shall dispute it. Come along, Vermin.

Ex.Exit La. B.Lady Basset and Ver.Vermin

Mr. Rich.

Ha, ha, that wou’d be a pretty Combat, in troth; he dares not
fight a Man: This Woman will be an excellent match for him. Dost thou
yet see thy folly, thy own, and thy Instructor’s folly: These things teach
thee to appear like the truly Great. Alas, mistaken wretch, they are as far
from noble Natures, as light from Darkness.

Mrs. Rich.

I do begin to find my errour, and am mending my Conversatiion;
yet think not, tho’ ye have humbled me, you shall e’er bring me back to
the City agen: No, I still have spirit enough to defie the City, and all its
works. By my Stars, I’ll never endure a greasie City Feast; a set Custard is
my aversion of all aversions, as Olivia has it.

Mr. Rich.

’Tis impossible to turn the Current of a Womans Will, tho’ it
perpetually runs the wrong way.

Enter Mrs. Betty.

Bet.

Oh, Madam, such a piece of Treachery, such Perfidiousness have I
discover’d.

Mrs. Rich.

In whom? My Stars, this is a day of wonders!

Bet.

Even Sir John, going from your Ladyship in a huff, because you smil’d
upon the worthy Gentleman in disguise; met your Niece; she flew upon him
with a violent Exclamation, “My Lord Fourbine, your’s intirely”. He answer’d
in a passionate tone, “Ah mon cher, I die for ye”.

Mr. Rich.

My Daughter!

Bet.

Yes, your Daughter; and together they whisk’d cross the Gallery, to
Misses Apartment: I left ’em there, and came to inform your Ladyship.

Mrs. Rich.

’Tis all Confusion and Amazement!

Mr. Rich.

I am destracted! my Daughter: I’ll kick him, burn his flaxen
Wigg, dirty his white Coat, knock out his butter Teeth, wring off his Nose,
and spoil him for being a Beau for ever.

Mrs. Rich.

Whilst I conceal my self in one of the Closets, if this be true,
Betty, I have such a revenge shall make the Town ring on’t.

Bet.

Do, Madam.aside to Mr. Rich. Now, Sir, now’s the time to clear
the house of the Locusts, these swarm of Fools.

Mr. Rich.

Set all thy wits at work, my good girl. Come, shew me this happy
couple, I shall spoil their mirth I’gad.

Exeunt.
Enter Sir John, Lucinda, Chris, and Governess.

Sir Joh.

Beyond my wish! Mrs. Rich’s Niece, the World shall applaud my
revenge: But, my dear, are you sure none of the Family will interrupt us.

Lucin.

No, no, they mew me here eternally with that old Woman; my Aunt
hates a younger face than her own shou’d appear where she is: I am not such
a Child but I can find that. Come hasten, Governess, pack up all my Jewels; we’llF4r39
we’ll steal out at the back-door, bid adieu to my sweet Aunt, till my dear
Lord and I visit her in a Coach and Six.

Sir Joh.

That’s my Cherubim, help Chris, help, I long to be gone.

Chris.

My Lord, we’ll ha down in a twinkling.

Lucin.

But look you my Lord, I must tell you my mind in two or three
words before we go, what you must trust to. Do you see I am not furiously
in Love; as my Aunt says, I run away only for more Pleasure, more Liberty,
&c. I will go every day to the Play, or else to the Park; and every time
I go to the Park, to the Lodge, to Chelsey: In fine, where I please, or as I run
away with you, I’ll run away from you, sue for my own Fortune again, and
live as I please: What I have heard how Ladies with Fortunes do.

Sir Joh.

A young Gipsie this, who’d have thought it had been in her, aside.
Mon cher ame, you shall have your will.

Lucin.

That you must expect, my dear Lord, for had I lov’d obedience I had
still obey’d my Father: And she that begins with her Father generally makes an
end with her Husband; but that’s furiously modish, and therefore so much
the better. Quick, quick, good Governess, and then ahey for disobedience.

Enter Mr. Rich and Betty.

Mr. Rich.

And then ahey for disobedience, Who is this, my Daughter,
with her ahey for disobedience?

Lucin.

Oh gemini, my Father! what shall I do now! well, I’ll e’en turn sides,
take my Father’s part, if he’s uppermost, and rail at my Lord furiously.

Mr. Rich.

Art thou the flaring Fop my hopeful Sister’s fond on, descended
from thy Dutchess Bed-Chamber, to steal my Daughter?

Sir Joh.

I am a Gentleman, Sir, and expect to be us’d like one.

Mr. Rich.

’Tis false, thou art not, I have trac’d thy Original, and found
thou art none.

Lucin.

O la! not a Gentleman, why he swore to me he was a Lord, out
upon him.

Sir Joh.

Well said Miss, I find we may e’en be marching, for any friends
we have here. Thou unpolish’d thing, I answer thy Affront, with my Mein,
my Dress, my Air, all shew the Gentleman, and give the lye to thy ill mannered
Malice.

Mr. Rich.

Defie me, thou thing equip’d! Canst thou justifie the worst of
Thefts, stealing my Child? Draw.

Sir Joh.

Your Pardon, Sir, not before the Lady, I may discompose her, perhaps
the sight of a Sword may fright her into a fit.

Lucin.

O la, don’t let me hinder ye.

Mr. Rich.

Art thou not a Fool?

Sir Joh.

A Fool, alamode, Sir.

Mr. Rich.

A Coward.

Sir Joh.

I am a Beau, Sir.

Mr. Rich.

All sound and no Sence.

Sir Joh.

I sing tolerably well. For who wou’d in a Cellar dine, when he
may go to Locket’s.

Mr. Rich.

Thou trifling Coxcomb, all Wig and no Brains, begone this
very Instant, or I’ll lead thee thus by the Nose, I’ll lead thee to a she Fop
of thy acquaintance, Coxcomb, I will, therefore make use of thy Heels.

Sir John F4v 40

Sir Joh.

Egad, this is very uncivil.

Mr. Rich.

I meant it so.

Sir Joh.

I’ll Lampoon thee, till your Friends shall fly ye, your Neighbours
despise ye, and the World laugh at ye.

Mr. Rich.

I believe your Wit’s as dangerous as your Courage, be gone,
Insect.

Lucin.

Pretend to be a Lord, and baulk a young Woman’s expectation!

Bet.

Ah poor Sir John, ha ha.

Sir Joh.

Has she been a spectator, I shall be jear’d to death, I will study a
revenge shall make you tremble, I will, thou barbarous Cit.

Mr. Rich.

Go set your Perriwig to rights fop, ha, ha.

Sir Joh.

Curses, Curses, Ah, I shall Choak.

Mr. Rich.

Farewell fool; you Madam, I Exit. Sir John. shall find
a time to discourse with; dear Mrs. Betty, take her into your care, whilst I
turn this old Limb of Iniquity out of doors; here you had a mind to run
away, now I desire you to walk about your business. Be gone thou unnecessary
evil.

Lucin.

Let her go, I say, she seduced me I’m sure.

Gov.

Oh, fie, fie, Miss.

Mr. Rich.

Begone, ’twas her canting deceiv’d me; what care we ought to
take whom we set over our Children. Enter Mrs. Rich.
So Madam, are you satisfied.

Mrs. Rich.

Rage, Spite, Shame and Resentment at once torment me, so
base a Coward, my Stars, I shall go Mad.

Mr. Rich.

Dear Sister, let your Stars alone, and learn to shun folly,
wheresoe’er you find it.

Mrs. Rich.

Then I must shun you, my self, and all the World. You have
a set and formal folly, I a vain and airy folly, but he the basest, most betraying
folly.

Mr. Rich.

Then redeem your Judgment, and stop Censorious mouths, by
accepting Mrs. Clerimont’s Kinsman, whom your Woman tells me has a plentifull
full Estate, this will turn the Laughter of the Town upon Sir John, and leave
you in happy Circumstances.

Mrs. Rich.

I will do something, something to plague that fellow.

Bet.

Here comes the Lady, I believe to plead in her friends behalf.

Enter Lady Landsworth and Mrs. Clerimont.

Mrs. Cle.

Ah, Madam, such a misfortune.

Mrs. Rich.

The whole deceitful world, by my Stars, I think is full of nothing
else.

Mrs. Cle.

But this, Madam, your bright eyes create.

Mrs. Rich.

I my eyes, that’s pleasant.

Mrs. Cle.

The strictness of his Vow racks him, for he knows a Lady thus
Accomplish’d, can never like him as he appears.

La. Lands.

Indeed I pity him.

Mr. Rich.

Pray Ladies, what’s the Case?

Mrs. Cle. G1r 41

Mrs. Cle.

Alas! Sir, a Cousin of mine who wants not the goods of Fortune;
but lies under an obligation to seem the greatest Clown in the Universe, till
fate has made him reparation for the affront he receiv’d, when all his study
was Dress and Conversation.

Mrs. Rich.

And has he a good Estate?

Mrs. Cler.

Four thousand a year I assure ye.

Mr. Rich.

Gadzooks, what matter is it where ever he is Drest, as ye call it,
again or no.

Mrs. Rich.

Yes, yes, that is material upon my word, Mr. Rich.

Mrs. Cler.

Would you consent to marry him, for so far his Oath extends;
believe me, Madam, he’d soon break forth to your amazement.

Mrs. Rich.

I profess Ladies, you give me such an Air of blushing, when I
reflect on what ye are tempting me to.

Mrs. Cler.

I profess Mame, ’tis a very becoming Air.

Mrs. Rich.

My Stars! ’twill sound so odd.

Mrs. Cler.

’Twill surprize the Town so prettily.

Mr. Rich.

Zooks, ’tis the best thing to piece up your fantastical Character;
’twill surprize the world indeed to see you do a wise thing.

Mrs. Rich.

Speak not you, Sir, for I yield only to the Ladies. Well, where
is the Gentleman?

Mrs. Cler.

Languishing within, Madam; condemn’d to silence, least his
rough hewn expressions should offend.

Mrs. Rich.

De la Bett, a pen and Ink, perhaps I may expose the Knight, and
satisfie your friend. Your pardon for some moments; come with me Neece.

Lucin.

Yes, Madam, pray let us be reveng’d on this sham Lord, you can’t
think what a lyar he is.

Mrs. Rich.

Your Servant.

Mrs. Cler.

Yours.

Exit Mrs. Rich. and Lucinda.

La. Lands.

Follow Dear De la Bett, as thy Lady has it, and now show thy
Master Piece.

Bet.

I lay my life ’tis done, I see it in her Eyes.

Mr. Rich.

In hopes on’t, I’ll get a parson. This Widow married, my affairs
are prosperous, and my Daughter and her Fortune return to me.

Mrs. Cler.

Hasten, good Sir, for this fair Lady and I have a little business
of our own.

Mr. Rich.

More Weddings, I hope, then we’ll have Dancing in abundance;
come honest De la Bett, I promise thee a new portion to thy new name.

Bet.

I’ll endeavour to deserve it, Sir.

Exit Mr. Rich. and Betty.

Mrs. Cler.

My Charming Cousin, have not I found a pretty imployment,
to turn general Match-maker?
But for the younger Clerimont, I own I could do any thing.

La. Lands.

I shou’d dissemble worse than I thought he did, not to say I’m
pleas’d to find his Character what I so heartily wish’d it.

Mrs. Cler.

To convince ye throughly, I have sent for his Landlady, whose
odd account of him must proceed from folly, or malice: O here she comes!

G Enter G1v 42 Enter Mrs. Fidget.

Mrs. Cler.

Your Servant, Madam, ’twas not for goods, as I pretended I
gave you this trouble, but to ask after the deportment of my Relation, Mr.
Clerimont
, your Lodger.

La. Lands.

The wild, mad Spark, that scarce ever lies at home: you know
me, Madam, I suppose?

Mrs. Fid.

Yes, yes, Madam, in verity I must beg your pardon, I did
belye the Gentleman, abominably belye him.

La. Lands.

What provok’d you to it?

Mrs. Fidg.

Truly, Ian, I contriv’d it, thinking it wou’d please your
Ladiship.

La. Lands.

Ian, pray who is Ian?

Mrs. Fid.

My Friend and his Footman.

Mrs. Cler.

My Cousin, I am sure was always accounted a very modest, sober
Gentleman.

Mrs. Fidg.

Modest! udsflesh, he has not his peer in the whole Town; by
my fackings, he’s a little too modest, that’s his fault.

Mrs. Cler.

I dare affirm he’s truly noble, not in these straights of Fortune
wou’d he quit his Honour, to be Great, or his Integrity to be Rich.

Mrs. Fidg.

Or his Religion to be thought a Wit.

La. Lands.

Enough, Ladies, I am fully satisfi’d; only to his Love, if I have
made any impression.

Mrs. Cler.

That this moment you your self shall be judge of; he’s coming,
if, you please to retire you shall over-hear me sound his inclinations.

Mrs. Fidg.

Aye, there he is, Heaven bless him, he’s a sweet young man.

La. Lands.

Come with me Mrs. Fidgit. Now Clerimont, If thy heart does with generous passion burn,Than I with joy will love for love return.Exit La. Lands.
(and Mrs. Fidget.

Enter the younger Clerimont, Belvoir and Jack.

Bell.

I have brought him, Madam, but I am asham’d to say with what reluctancy,
he flies even you, you the fair contriver of his Auspicious
Fortunes.

Cler.

I am sure, I am asham’d to see you take such pains about a thing not
worth your care.

Mrs. Cler.

When the good suffer, the vertuous part of humane kind are all
concern’d. When we suffer by fate, and not our faults, Heaven always
makes the tryal short, and shows an easie way for our deliverance.

Cler.

In vain you sooth me with your friendship; did you fully know me,
you wou’d know, there scarce is left a room for hope.

Mrs. Cler.

Suppose there is a Lady in love with you, surrounded thus as you
are with your misfortunes; suppose her Chast, and Rich, and Fair, who tho herG2r43
her eyes never yet encountred yours, by my description, doats upon a Character
so singular and different from your wild Sex.

Cler.

Were she as fair as Women wou’d be thought; as vertuous as they
were of old, e’re ’twas fashionable to be false; had she Wealth would satisfie
the Vain, the Miser, the Ambitious; so far am I from once consenting to
what your kindness has propos’d, I woud not to rid me of half my Sorrows,
so much as see her.

Bel.

Ah, my friend! this must be some prepossession; you already are in Love.

Cler.

It is enough to say I am a fool, must search the world and know it
better, e’re I pretend to speak my thoughts. If, Madam, from my Brother
ye can procure my Father’s first design, I shall own my self eternally oblig’d,
and trouble ye no more.

Mrs. Cler.

I sigh to say it is not in my power, since you refuse the advantageous
offers of the Lady’s love.

Cler.

Then all I beg, is that ye wou’d inquire for me no more. There is
no warding the blows of Fate; the wretch that’s doomed unfortunate, no Arm
of Power can save.

Bell.

But you look thro despair: Believe me, friend, ’tis a false Glass, Fortune
has a fairer Face to shew you.

Mrs. Cler.

That pleasing task be mine, Madam, you here the Gentleman
is obstinate, but now, Sir, if you are not charm’d with this appearance, you
have a relish different from the universal World.

Re-enter Lady Landsworth, and Mrs. Fidget.

Cler.

Ha! ’tis she! ’tis she! here let me fix, thus let me clasp my Bliss, thus
for ever, secure my only valued treasure!

Jack.

Ay, ’tis she, egad, and my Landlady too!

Mrs. Fid.

Yes, Manners, your Landlady too.

La. Lands.

And dare you venture upon me, after the Alderman, the Colonel,
and the Senator?

Cler.

My Eyes shou’d have contradicted all other Sences; sweet Innocence
is writ in that dear face, and Vertue in her brightest Characters.

Mrs. Cler.

Vertuous and Great, the Charming Widow of Sir John Landsworth:
Her Husband formerly, I believe you have seen. What cou’d you
ask of Fate more, than to love and be belov’d by her?

Cler.

And have I been repining, when the bounteous Heavens were pouring
such lavish Blessings down? Oh! my ravish’d Soul! My first, my only dear!

La. Lands.

’Tis wondrous pretty, when Love’s soft passion first invades
our breast, it brings a thousand Charms, a thousand Joys, unknown before;
but ah! too often in your Sex, rowling time, or some newer face, puts out
the kindly flame, and the forsaken Fair is left to live, and languish on
the kind Words which she will hear no more. What can secure me from
such a Fate? Not even your present thoughts, for they may change.

Cler.

Never, my Charmer, never! To look on thee secures a heart like
mine from roving: To hear thee talk, will fix for ever in the ChainsG2ofG2v44
of Love. But, oh! to have thee all; there words cannot aim, there breath
is lost in extasie.

Mrs. Cler.

Here’s a world of fine things; tho’ I am a little of the Lady’s
mind, ’twill scarce hold out seven years.

Bel.

So, there’s two in perfect happiness. I hope, Madam, you that
were so Compassionate to others, will not your self be cruel, but reward
my constant vows, nor let me longer sigh in vain.

Mrs. Cler.

Mr. Belvoir, I have allow’d you too long a favour’d Lover in
honour to go back; we are as good as married already.

Bel.

No, my dear Angel, the greatest sweet’s to come.

Mrs. Cler.

Ay, and the sowre too, that the worst on’t. Look, here’s
another happy Couple.

Enter elder Clerimont, Mrs. Rich, Mr. Rich, Lucinda, Betty and Toby.

Mrs. Rich.

Well, Ladies, what d’ye think I have been doing since I went
out? by my Stars! a world of business; and that’s a thing I hate, writ a
Billet-doux to the Beau in appearance; married the Beau in disguise;
given occasion for forty Stories, and fifty Lampoons, ha, ha, ha! I have
done it all in a humour, by my Stars!

Mrs. Cler.

E’en carry it on, Madam; never have a grave fit and repent,
I say.

El. Cler.

Yes, faith, I’m sped, and all o’th’sudden; she’s handsomer trath,
than our Sh’riff’s Daughter. How they’ll stare, Toby, when she shows her
paces thro’ our Alley, to the great Pew. Brother Charles, how came you
here? Well, I’ve gin the Writings into Cousin’s hands: Udslids, does
that pretty Lady belong to you? Why, this is a rare place for handsome Women,
by my troth.

Mrs. Rich.

Come, Sir, the Transformation has been Comical enough,
but now I beg you to reassume your former Mein and Dress, and let me
make as great a sacrifice to you, as the Lady made of you.

Mrs. Cler.

O, dear Belvoir, say something to keep in my laugh, or I’m
undone.

Bel.

I dare not lift up my eyes, nor scarce open my lips to let my
words out.

Mr. Rich.

I confess, my Gravity is put to the Test now.

Mrs. Rich.

Come, Mr. Clerimont, will ye hasten; pray dress immediately,
because I expect Sir John this moment.

El. Cler.

Yes, fags, I’ll dress, as soon as I can get my Cloaths made; and
since I’m Wed, I’ll bestow more money than I thought, by five pound.

Mrs. Rich.

Nay, now the humour’s tiresome, here’s only Friends.

Bet.

Oh, Madam, I shall break my Lace.

Cler.

What’s the meaning of all this?

La. Lands.

The tittering Damsel behind ye, can tell.

Mrs. Rich.

Come, I wou’d not for a thousand pound Sir John shou’d find you
thus; this is carrying the Jest too far. Speak to him, Madam.

Mrs. Cler. G3r 45

Mrs. Cler.

Indeed, Madam, I fear it must go a little farther; for, to tell ye
the plain truth, he has the Estate I mention’d, and is my Relation; but for
the Accomplishments you expect, they are yet to learn, upon my word.

Mrs. Rich.

How! I’m undone! What, no Conversation, no Judgment in
Dress, no Mein, no Airs!

El. Cler.

Prithee, Cuz, what is that same Airs, d’ye see? I’d willingly please
her, now I have her, d’ye see?

Mrs. Cle.

Airs: Why, ’tis a foolish Word, used by those that do understand
it, and those that do not; ’tis what’s pretty, when Nature gives it; and what,
when affected, spoils all that Nature gives besides.

Mrs. Rich.

Oh! I shall go mad. Is that an Object fit to please a Woman
nice as I am?

Mr. Rich.

Come, Sister, a long Periwig, an Alamode Steenkirk, &c. has
made a worse Face a perfect Beau e’re now: Consider, he has some thousands
a year.

El. Cler.

Ay, marry have I: Nay, udslid, I have a Title too; I value no
more, d’ye see, killing a Man, than I do killing a Mouse; for I’d take up my
Patent, be a Lord, and be try’d by my Peers.

Bel.

Thy Peers! Where wou’dst find ’em?

Mrs. Rich.

Oh, my cursed Stars! First a Citizen’s, and then a Country
’Squire’s Wife. Ah! I shall never endure him, that’s certain.

El. Cler.

Mid hap so, and mid hap ye may; I shan’t cross ye mich. All
the Hunting season I’ll be in the Country; and you shall hunt Pleasures here
in Town. Ge me a little of your money to pay my debt, and I won’t trouble
you, d’ye see.

La. Lands.

Well said, Mr. Bridegroom: Come, Madam, few Beaux wou’d
be more Complaisant.

Bet.

Madam, Sir John――

Mrs. Rich.

Mountains cover my shame! What shall I say now?

La. Lands.

Say! laugh at him, as all the World ought.

Mrs. Cler.

Believe me, Madam, ye have made the better choice.

Mr. Rich.

A thousand times.

Enter Sir John, and Mrs. Trickwell.

Mrs. Trick.

You bring me here to see you Triumph, I can never believe
it; you have some trick put upon you, Sir John.

Sir Joh.

Have I not her own Note, that spight of her Jealousies, and her
Brother’s Tyranny, she will this day be married.

Mrs. Trick.

She does not say to you. Ha! What a World of Company is
here?

Sir Joh.

The Brother, and the young Gipsie his Daughter: I’ll be gone.

Bel.

Nay, no retreating, Sir John, you must, at least, wish the Lady joy.

Mrs. Rich.

Sha, my design’s broke, my Plots spoiled, can I Triumph at his
defeat, and show that awkard figure?

Sir Joh. G3v 46

Sir Joh.

Madam, your Summons brought me hither, I hop’d to Joys.

Mrs. Rich.

I hate you, and all mankind.

Lucin.

So do I; ye sham Lord, ye brag, ye bounce, ye――

Bel.

Enough, good Miss. Sir John, I perceive you must search for new
Gallantries; here the Ladies are provided for, except this little one, who
seems to have no inclination.

Sir Joh.

Pax take ye all; they were fond, I’m sure.

Mr. Rich.

Come, ye young Coquette, your Education shall be alter’d, I assure
ye, ’tis e’en high time.

Mrs. Trick.

Well, I believe my booty with yonder fantastical Lady is at
an end, so I’ll steal off unobserv’d.

Exit Mrs. Trickwell. Enter Lady Basset.

La. Bas.

Where is this Villain, This false, ungrateful Villain?

Sir. Joh.

So; another outcry?

La. Bas.

Yes, Traytor, and a just one: Know all, this was but a Servant
in Sir John Roverhead’s Family; I drest him in these borrow’d honours, knowing
Sir John never came to Town. I taught him the Modes and Manners
here, and he has rewarded me with Inconstancy.

Sir Joh.

Hold, hold; not so fast. How came you to be the Honourable, the
Lady Basset: I think ’twas I dubb’d ye. As I take it, ye were but the
cast Mistress of Sir Francis Basset, when I found ye.

Mr. Rich.

See, Sister, how the Quality you were fond of, expose one
another.

Mrs. Cler.

And seeing this, be reconcil’d to your new Spouse, who is of
a noble Family, and I promise to introduce ye to Persons of Merit and
Honour.

La. Lands.

We shall all be fond of ye, for, of your self, you are
Charming and Sensible: ’Tis only these Wretches have render’d ye ridiculous.

Mr. Rich.

Come, give him your hand, ’tis a gentle punishment for so
much vanity.

Mrs. Rich.

Well, since my malicious Stars have thus decreed it; but, d’ye
hear, I expect to have your Estate in my power, and that same Title you
talk of look’d into.

El. Cler.

Sackings and so you shall; but must not I have your fine parson
in my power too? ha!

Mrs. Rich.

Has the Thing sence enough to be in Love?

Cler.

Now, I hope, all’s well, and I have prevail’d with my Landlady
to give ye a Song.

La. Lands.

Do, good Mrs. Fidget?

Mrs. Fid.

Any thing to divert ye.

Toby.

And adod, after that, I’ll give ’em a donce.

Bel.

Well sed, honest Toby.

Mrs. Rich. G4r 47

Mrs. Rich.

Sir Ian, will ye participate our diversion, or employ your
time in reconciling your self to this inraged Lady.

Sir Joh.

Shame, Disappointment and Disreputation light upon you all;
wou’d the whole Sex were upon Salisbury Plain, and their rigging on
fire about their Ears.

Exit Sir John.

Mrs. Cler.

And that’s the dreadful Curse of a defeated Beau. Follow,
Madam, and put him in a better humour.

La. Bas.

Hang him, as I wou’d my self, you, and all the World.

Exit Lady Basset.

Bet.

A fair riddance.

Cler.

Now the Song, and then the Dance.

Mr. Rich.

Now Sister, and Daughter, to you I chiefly speak, let this days
Adventure make ye for ever cautious of your Conversation; you see how
near these pretenders to Quality had brought you to ruin. The truly Great
are of a quite different Character. The Glory of the World our British Nobles are,The Ladies too Renown’d, and Chast and fair:But to our Citizens, Augusta’s Sons,The Conquering Wealth of both the India’s runs;Tho’ less in Name, of greater Power by far,Honours alone, but empty Scutcheons are;Mixt with their Coin, the Title sweetly sounds,No such Alloy as Twenty Thousand Pounds.

The End

G4v

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