ACT II
Scene 1
A Room
Charlot
Enough, I’ve heard enough of Wilding‘s Vices, to know I am undone. [Weeps]−− Galliard his Mistress too? I never saw her, but I have heard her fam’d for Beauty, Wit, and Fortune: That Rival may be dangerous.
Foppington
Yes, Madam, the fair, the young, the witty Lady Galliard, even in the height of his Love to you; nay, even whilst his Uncle courts her for a Wife, he designs himself for a Gallant.
Charlot
Wondrous Inconstancy and Impudence!
Mrs. Clacket
Nay, Madam, you may rely upon Mr. Foppington‘s Information; therefore if you respect your Reputation, retreat in time.
Charlot
Reputation! that I forfeited when I ran away with your Friend, Mr. Wilding.
Mrs. Clacket
Ah, that ever I shou’d live to see [Weeps] the sole Daughter and Heir of Sir Nicholas Gett−all, ran away with one of the leudest Heathens about Town!
Charlot
How, your Friend, Mr. Wilding, a Heathen; and with you too, Mrs. Clacket! that Friend, Mr. Wilding, who thought none so worthy as Mrs. Clacket, to trust with so great a Secret as his flight with me; he a Heathen!
Mrs. Clacket
Ay, and a poor Heathen too, Madam. ‘Slife, if you must marry a Man to buy him Breeches, marry an honest Man, a Religious Man, a Man that bears a Conscience, and will do a Woman some Reason −− Why, here’s Mr. Foppington, Madam; here’s a Shape, here’s a Face, a Back as strait as an Arrow, I’ll warrant.
Charlot
How! buy him Breeches! Has Wilding then no Fortune?
Foppington
Yes, Faith, Madam, pretty well; so, so, as the Dice run; and now and then he lights upon a Squire, or so, and between fair and foul Play, he makes a shift to pick a pretty Livelihood up.
Charlot
How! does his Uncle allow him no present Maintenance?
Foppington
No, nor future Hopes neither: Therefore, Madam, I hope you will see the Difference between him and a Man of Parts, that adores you. [Smiling and bowing]
Charlot
If I find all this true you tell me, I shall know how to value my self and those that love me. −− This may be yet a Rascal [Aside].
Enter Maid
Maid
Mistress, Mr. Wilding‘s below. [Exit]
Foppington
Below! Oh, Heaven, Madam, do not expose me to his Fury, for being too zealous in your Service. [In great Disorder]
Charlot
I will not let him know you told any thing, Sir.
Foppington
Death! to be seen here, would expose my Life. [To Clacket]
Mrs. Clacket
Here, here, step out upon the Stair−case, and slip into my Chamber. [Foppington going out, returns in fright]
Foppington
Owns, he’s here; lock the Door fast; let him not enter.
Mrs. Clacket
Oh, Heavens, I have not the Key! hold it, hold it fast, sweet, sweet Mr. Foppington. Oh, should there be Murder done, what a Scandal wou’d that be to the House of a true Protestant! [Knocks]
Charlot
Heavens! what will he say or think, to see me shut in with a Man?
Mrs. Clacket
Oh, I’ll say you’re sick, asleep, or out of Humour.
Charlot
I’d give the World to see him. [Knocks]
Tom Wilding
[Without] Charlot, Charlot! am I deny’d an entrance? By Heaven, I’ll break the Door. [Knocks again; Foppington still holding it]
Foppington
Oh, I’m a dead Man, dear Clacket! [Knocking still]
Mrs. Clacket
Oh, hold, Sir, Mrs. Charlot is very sick.
Tom Wilding
How, sick, and I kept from her!
Mrs. Clacket
She begs you’ll come again an Hour hence.
Tom Wilding
Delay’d! by Heaven, I will have entrance.
Foppington
Ruin’d! undone! for if he do not kill me, he may starve me.
Mrs. Clacket
Oh, he will not break in upon us! Hold, Sir, hold a little; Mrs. Charlot is just −− just −− shifting her self, Sir; you will not be so uncivil as to press in, I hope, at such a Time.
Charlot
I have a fine time on’t, between ye, to have him think I am stripping my self before Mr. Foppington −− Let go, or I’ll call out and tell him all.
[Wilding breaks open the Door and rushes in: Foppington stands close up at the entrance till he is past him, then venturing to slip out, finds Wilding has made fast the Door: so he is forc’d to return again and stand close up behind Wilding with signs of Fear.]
Tom Wilding
How now, Charlot, what means this new Unkindness? what, not a Word?
Charlot
There is so little Musick in my Voice, you do not care to hear it: you have been better entertain’d, I find, mightily employ’d, no doubt.
Tom Wilding
Yes, faith, and so I have, Charlot: damn’d Business, that Enemy to Love, has made me rude.
Charlot
Or that other Enemy to Love, damn’d Wenching.
Tom Wilding
Wenching! how ill hast thou tim’d thy Jealousy! What Banker, that to morrow is to pay a mighty Sum, wou’d venture out his Stock to day in little Parcels, and lose his Credit by it?
Charlot
You wou’d, perfidious as you are, though all your Fortune, all your future Health, depended on that Credit. [Angry]
Tom Wilding
So, hark ye, Mrs. Clacket, you have been prating I find in my Absence, giving me a handsom Character to Charlot −− You hate any good thing shou’d go by your own Nose. [Aside to Clacket]
Mrs. Clacket
By my Nose, Mr. Wilding! I defy you: I’d have you to know, I scorn any good thing shou’d go by my Nose in an uncivil way.
Tom Wilding
I believe so.
Mrs. Clacket
Have I been the Confident to all your Secrets this three years, in Sickness and in Health, for richer, for poorer; conceal’d the Nature of your wicked Diseases, under the honest Name of Surfeits; call’d your filthy Surgeons, Mr. Doctor, to keep up your Reputation; civilly receiv’d your t’other end of the Town young Relations at all Hours −−
Tom Wilding
High!
Mrs. Clacket
Been up with you, and down with you early and late, by Night and by Day; let you in at all Hours, drunk and sober, single and double; and civilly withdrawn, and modestly shut the Door after me?
Tom Wilding
What! The Storm’s up, and the Devil cannot lay it.
Mrs. Clacket
And I am thus rewarded for my Pains! [Weeps]
Tom Wilding
So Tempests are allay’d by Showers of Rain.
Mrs. Clacket
That I shou’d be charg’d with speaking ill of you, so honest, so civil a Gentleman −−
Charlot
No, I have better Witness of your Falshood.
Foppington
Hah, ‘Sdeath, she’ll name me! [Aside]
Tom Wilding
What mean you, my Charlot? Do you not think I love you?
Charlot
Go ask my Lady Galliard, she keeps the best Account of all your Sighs and Vows, And robs me of my dearest softer Hours. [Kindly to him]
Mrs. Clacket
You cannot hold from being kind to him. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
Galliard! How came she by that Secret of my Life? [Aside] Why, ay, ’tis true, I am there sometimes about an Arbitration, about a Suit in Law, about my Uncle.
Charlot
Ay, that Uncle too –
You swore to me you were your Uncle’s Heir;
But you perhaps may chance to get him one,
If the Lady prove not cruel.
Tom Wilding
Death and the Devil, what Rascal has been prating to her! [Aside]
Charlot
Whilst I am reserv’d for a dead Lift, if Fortune prove unkind, or wicked Uncle’s refractory:
Yet I cou’d love you though you were a Slave [In a soft Tone to him]
And I were Queen of all the Universe.
Mrs. Clacket
Ay, there you spoil’d all again −− you forgot your self.
Charlot
And all the World when he looks kindly on me. But I’ll take Courage and be very angry [Aside]. Nor do your Perjuries rest here; you’re equally as false to Galliard, as to me; false for a little Mistress of the Town, whom you’ve set up in spite to Quality. [Angry]
Mrs. Clacket
So, that was home and handsome.
Tom Wilding
What damn’d Informer does she keep in pension?
Charlot
And can you think my Fortune and my Youth
Merits no better Treatment? [Angry]
How cou’d you have the Heart to use me so? [Soft to him]
I fall insensibly to Love and Fondness. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
Ah, my dear Charlot! you who know my Heart, can you believe me false?
Charlot
In every Syllable, in every Look;
Your Vows, your Sighs, and Eyes, all counterfeit.
You said you lov’d me, where was then your Truth?
You swore you were to be your Uncle’s Heir;
Where was your Confidence of me the while.
To think my Generosity so scanted,
To love you for your Fortune?
−− How every Look betrays my yielding Heart! [Aside]
No, since Men are grown so cunning in their
Trade of Love, the necessary Vice I’ll practise too,
And chaffer with Love−Merchants for my Heart.
Make it appear you are your Uncle’s Heir,
I’ll marry ye to morrow.
Of all thy Cheats, that was the most unkind,
Because you thought to conquer by that Lye.
—To night I’ll be resolv’d.
Tom Wilding
Hum! to night!
Charlot
To night, or I will think you love me for my Fortune;
Which if you find elsewhere to more advantage,
I may unpitied die −− and I shou’d die
If you should prove untrue. [Tenderly to him]
Mrs. Clacket
There you’ve dasht all again.
Tom Wilding
I’m resolv’d to keep my Credit with her [Aside] −− Here’s my Hand. This Night, Charlot, I’ll let you see the Writings.
−− But how? a Pox on him that knows for Thomas. [Aside]
Charlot
Hah! that Hand without the Ring! Nay, never study for a handsom Lye.
Tom Wilding
Ring? Oh, ay, I left it in my Dressing−room this Morning.
Charlot
See how thou hast inur’d thy Tongue to falshood!
Did you not send it to a certain Creature
They call Diana,
From off that Hand that plighted Faith to me?
Tom Wilding
By Heaven, ’tis Witchcraft all;
Unless this Villain Foppington betray me.
Those sort of Rascals would do any thing
For ready Meat and Wine −− I’ll kill the Fool [Aside] −− hah, here! [Turns quick, and sees him behind him]
Foppington
Here, Lord! Lord!
Where were thy Eyes, dear Wilding?
Tom Wilding
Where they have spy’d a Rascal.
Where was this Property conceal’d?
Foppington
Conceal’d! What dost thou mean, dear Tom? Why, I stood as plain as the Nose on thy Face, mun.
Tom Wilding
But ’tis the ungrateful Quality of all your sort to make such base returns.
How got this Rogue Admittance, and when in,
The Impudence to tell his treacherous Lyes?
Foppington
Admittance! why thou art stark mad: Did not I come in with you, that is, follow’d you?
Tom Wilding
Whither?
Foppington
Why, into the House, up stairs, stood behind you when you swore you wou’d come in, and follow’d you in!
Tom Wilding
All this, and I not see!
Foppington
Oh, Love’s blind; but this Lady saw me, Mrs. Clacket saw me −− Admittance quotha!
Tom Wilding
Why did you not speak?
Foppington
Speak! I was so amaz’d at what I heard, the villanous Scandals laid on you by some pick−thank Rogue or other, I had no Power.
Tom Wilding
Ay, thou know’st how I am wrong’d.
Foppington
Oh, most damnably, Sir!
Tom Wilding
Abuse me to my Mistress too!
Foppington
Oh, Villains! Dogs!
Charlot
Do you think thy have wrong’d him, Sir? for I’ll believe you.
Foppington
Do I think, Madam? Ay, I think him a Son of a Whore that said it; and I’ll cut his Throat.
Mrs. Clacket
Well, this Impudence is a heavenly Virtue.
Tom Wilding
You see now, Madam, how Innocence may suffer.
Charlot
In spite of all thy villanous dissembling, I must believe, and love thee for my quiet.
Tom Wilding
That’s kind; and if before to morrow I do not shew you I deserve your Heart, kill me at once by quitting me −− Farewel −− I know where both my Uncle’s Will and other Writings lie, by which he made me Heir to his whole Estate.
My Craft will be in catching; which if past,
Her Love secures me the kind Wench at last. [Aside]
[Goes out with Foppington]
Mrs. Clacket
What if he should not chance to keep his Word now?
Charlot
How, if he shou’d not! by all that’s good, if he shou’d not, I am resolv’d to marry him however. We two may make a pretty Shift with three thousand Pound a year; yet I wou’d fain be resolv’d how Affairs stand between the old Gentleman and him. I wou’d give the World to see that Widow too, that Lady Galliard.
Mrs. Clacket
If you’re bent upon ‘t, I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Madam; There’s every Day mighty Feasting here at his Uncle’s hard by, and you shall disguise your self as well as you can, and so go for a Niece of mine I have coming out of Scotland; there you will not fail of seeing my Lady Galliard, though, I doubt, not Mr. Wilding, who is of late discarded.
Charlot
Enough; I am resolv’d upon this Design; let’s in and practise the northern Dialect.
[Exeunt both]
Scene 2
The Street
Enter Wilding and Foppington
Tom Wilding
But then Diana took the Ring at last?
Foppington
Greedily, but rail’d, and swore, and ranted at your late Unkindness, and wou’d not be appeas’d.
[Enter Dresswell]
Tom Wilding
Dresswell, I was just going to see for thee.
Dresswell
I’m glad, dear Tom, I’m here to serve thee.
Tom Wilding
And now I’ve found thee, thou must along with me.
Dresswell
Whither? but I’ll not ask, but obey.
Tom Wilding
To a kind Sinner, Frank.
Dresswell
Pox on ’em all; prithee turn out those petty Tyrants of thy Heart, and fit it for a Monarch, Love, dear Wilding, of which thou never knew’st the Pleasure yet, or not above a day.
Tom Wilding
Not knew the Pleasure! Death, the very Essence, the first Draughts of Love:
Ah, how pleasant ’tis to drink when a Man’s a dry!
The rest is all but dully sipping on.
Dresswell
And yet this Diana, for thither thou art going, thou hast been constant to this three or four Years.
Tom Wilding
A constant Keeper thou mean’st; which is indeed enough to get the Scandal of a Coxcomb: But I know not, those sort of Baggages have a kind of Fascination so inticing −− and faith, after the Fatigues of formal Visits to a Man’s dull Relations, or what’s as bad, to Women of Quality; after the busy Afflictions of the Day, and the Debauches of the tedious Night, I tell thee, Frank, a Man’s best Retirement is with a soft kind Wench. But to say Truth, I have a farther Design in my Visit now. Thou know’st how I stand past hope of Grace, excommunicated the Kindness of my Uncle.
Dresswell
True.
Tom Wilding
My leud Debauches, and being o’th’ wrong Party, as he calls it, is now become an irreconcilable Quarrel, so that I having many and hopeful Intrigues now depending, especially those of my charming Widow, and my City−Heiress, which can by no means be carried on without that damn’d necessary call’d ready Mony; I have stretcht my Credit, as all young Heirs do, till ’tis quite broke. New Liveries, Coaches, and Clothes must be had, they must, my Friend.
Dresswell
Why do’st thou not in this Extremity clap up a Match with my Lady Galliard? or this young Heiress you speak of?
Tom Wilding
But Marriage, Frank, is such a Bugbear! And this old Uncle of mine may one day be gathered together, and sleep with his Fathers, and then I shall have six thousand Pound a Year, and the wide World before me; and who the Devil cou’d relish these Blessings with the clog of a Wife behind him? −− But till then, Money must be had, I say.
Foppington
Ay, but how, Sir?
Tom Wilding
Why, from the old Fountain, Jack, my Uncle; he has himself decreed it: He tells me I must live upon my Wits, and will, Frank.
Foppington
Gad , I’m impatient to know how.
Tom Wilding
I believe thee, for thou art out at Elbows; and when I thrive, you show it i’th’ Pit, behind the Scenes, and at Coffee−houses. Thy Breeches give a better account of my Fortune, than Lilly with all his Schemes and Stars.
Foppington
I own I thrive by your influence, Sir.
Dresswell
Well, but to your Project, Friend, to which I’ll set a helping Hand, a Heart, a Sword, and Fortune.
Tom Wilding
You make good what my Soul conceives of you. Let’s to Diana then, and there I’ll tell thee all. [Going out, they meet Diana, who enters with her Maid Betty, and Boy, looks angrily] −− Diana, I was just going to thy Lodgings!
Diana
Oh, las, you are too much taken up with your rich City−Heiress.
Tom Wilding
That’s no cause of quarrel between you and I, Diana: you were wont to be as impatient for my marrying, as I for the Death of my Uncle; for your rich Wife ever obliges her Husband’s Mistress; and Women of your sort, Diana, ever thrive better by Adultery than Fornication.
Diana
Do, try to appease the easy Fool with these fine Expectations −− No, I have been too often flatter’d with the hopes of your marrying a rich Wife, and then I was to have a Settlement; but instead of that, things go backward with me, my Coach is vanish’d, my Servants dwindled into one necessary Woman and a Boy, which to save Charges, is too small for any Service; my twenty Guineas a Week, into forty Shillings; a hopeful Reformation!
Tom Wilding
Patience, Diana, things will mend in time.
Diana
When, I wonder? Summer’s come, yet I am still in my embroider’d Manteau, when I’m drest, lin’d with Velvet; ‘twould give one a Fever but to look at me: yet still I am flamm’d off with hopes of a rich Wife, whose Fortune I am to lavish. −− But I see you have neither Conscience nor Religion in you; I wonder what a Devil will become of your Soul for thus deluding me! [Weeps]
Tom Wilding
By Heaven, I love thee!
Diana
Love me! what if you do? how far will that go at the Exchange for Point? Will the Mercer take it for current Coin? −− But ’tis no matter, I must love a Wit with a Pox, when I might have had so many Fools of Fortune: but the Devil take me, if you deceive me any longer. [Weeping]
Tom Wilding
You’ll keep your word, no doubt, now you have sworn.
Diana
So I will. I never go abroad, but I gain new Conquests. Happy’s the Man that can approach nearest the Side−box where I sit at a Play, to look at me; but if I deign to smile on him, Lord, how the overjoy’d Creature returns it with a Bow low as the very Benches; Then rising, shakes his Ears, looks round with Pride, to see who took notice how much he was in favour with charming Mrs. Dy.
Tom Wilding
No more, come, let’s be Friends, Diana; for you and I must manage an Uncle of mine.
Diana
Damn your Projects, I’ll have none of ’em.
Tom Wilding
Here, here’s the best softner of a Woman’s Heart; ’tis Gold, two hundred Pieces: Go, lay it out, till you shame Quality into plain Silk and Fringe.
Diana
Lord, you have the strangest power of persuasion! Nay, if you buy my Peace, I can afford a Pennyworth.
Tom Wilding
So thou canst of anything about thee.
Diana
Well, your Project, my dear Tommy?
Tom Wilding
Thus then −− Thou, dear Frank, shalt to my Uncle, tell him, that Sir Nicholas Gett−all, as he knows, being dead, and having left, as he knows too, one only Daughter his whole Executrix, Mrs. Charlot, I have by my civil and modest Behaviour, so won upon her Heart, that two Nights since she left her Father’s Country−house at Lusum in Kent, in spite of all her strict Guards, and run away with me.
Dresswell
How, wilt thou tell him of it, then?
Tom Wilding
Hear me −− That I have hitherto secur’d her at a Friend’s House here in the City; but diligent search being now made, dare trust her there no longer: and make it my humble Request by you, my Friend, (who are only privy to this Secret) that he wou’d give me leave to bring her home to his House, whose very Authority will defend her from being sought for there.
Dresswell
Ay, Sir, but what will come of this, I say?
Tom Wilding
Why, a Settlement; you know he has already made me Heir to all he has, after his decease: but for being a wicked Tory, as he calls me, he has after the Writings were made, sign’d, and seal’d, refus’d to give ’em in trust. Now when he sees I have made my self Master of so vast a Fortune, he will immediately surrender; that reconciles all again.
Dresswell
Very likely; but wo’t thou trust him with the Woman, Thomas.
Tom Wilding
No, here’s Diana, who, as I shall bedizen, shall pass for as substantial an Alderman’s Heiress as ever fell into wicked Hands. He never knew the right Charlot, nor indeed has any body ever seen her but an old Aunt and Nurse, she was so kept up −− And there, Diana, thou shalt have a good opportunity to lye, dissemble, and jilt in abundance, to keep thy hand in ure. Prithee, dear Dresswell, haste with the News to him.
Dresswell
Faith, I like this well enough; this Project may take, and I’ll about it. [Goes out]
Tom Wilding
Go, get ye home, and trick and betauder your self up like a right City−Lady, rich, but ill−fashion’d; on with all your Jewels, but not a Patch, ye Gypsy, nor no Spanish Paint d’ye hear.
Diana
I’ll warrant you for my part.
Tom Wilding
Then before the old Gentleman, you must behave your self very soberly, simple, and demure, and look as prew as at a Conventicle; and take heed you drink not off your Glass at Table, nor rant, nor swear: one Oath confounds our Plot, and betrays thee to be an arrant Drab.
Diana
Doubt not my Art of Dissimulation.
Tom Wilding
Go, haste and dress –
[Exeunt Diana, Betty and Boy. Enter Lady Galliard and Closet above in the Balcony; Wilding going out, sees them, stops, and reads a Paper]
Tom Wilding
Hah, who’s yonder? the Widow! a Pox upon’t, now have I not power to stir; she has a damn’d hank upon my Heart, and nothing but right down lying with her will dissolve the Charm. She has forbid me seeing her, and therefore I am sure will the sooner take notice of me. [Reads]
Mrs. Closet
What will you put on to night, Madam? you know you are to sup at Sir Timothy Treat−all‘s.
Lady Galliard
Time enough for that; prithee let’s take a turn in this Balcony, this City−Garden, where we walk to take the fresh Air of the Sea−coal Smoak. Did the Footman go back, as I ordered him, to see how Wilding and Sir Charles parted?
Mrs. Closet
He did, Madam, and nothing cou’d provoke Sir Charles to fight after your Ladyship’s strict Commands. Well, I’ll swear he’s the sweetest natur’d Gentleman −− has all the advantages of Nature and Fortune: I wonder what Exception your Ladyship has to him.
Lady Galliard
Some small Exception to his whining Humour; but I think my chiefest dislike is, because my Relations wish it a Match between us. It is not hate to him, but natural contradiction. Hah, is not that Wilding yonder? he’s reading of a Letter sure.
Tom Wilding
So, she sees me. Now for an Art to make her lure me up: for though I have a greater mind than she, it shall be all her own; the Match she told me of this Morning with my Uncle, sticks plaguily upon my Stomach; I must break the Neck on’t, or break the Widow’s Heart, that’s certain. If I advance towards the Door now, she frowningly retires; if I pass on, ’tis likely she may call me. [Advances]
Lady Galliard
I think he’s passing on,
Without so much as looking towards the Window.
Mrs. Closet
He’s glad of the excuse of being forbidden.
Lady Galliard
But, Closet, know’st thou not he has abus’d my Fame,
And does he think to pass thus unupbraided?
Is there no Art to make him look this way?
No Trick −− Prithee feign to laugh. [Closet laughs]
Tom Wilding
So, I shall not answer to that Call.
Lady Galliard
He’s going! Ah, Closet, my Fan! – [Lets fall her Fan just as he passes by; he takes it up, and looks up] Cry mercy, Sir, I am sorry I must trouble you to bring it.
Tom Wilding
Faith, so am I; and you may spare my Pains, and send your Woman for’t, I’m in haste.
Lady Galliard
Then the quickest way will be to bring it. [Goes out of the Balcony with Closet]
Tom Wilding
I knew I should be drawn in one way or other. [Exit]
Scene 3
Changes to a Chamber
Enter Lady Galliard, Wilding, Closet. To them Wilding, delivers the Fan, and is retiring
Lady Galliard
Stay, I hear you’re wondrous free of your Tongue, when ’tis let loose on me.
Tom Wilding
Who, I, Widow? I think of no such trifles.
Lady Galliard
Such Railers never think when they’re abusive; but something you have said, a Lye so infamous!
Tom Wilding
A Lye, and infamous of you! impossible! What was it that I call’d you, Wise or Honest?
Lady Galliard
How can you accuse me with the want of either?
Tom Wilding
Yes, of both: Had you a grain of Honesty, or intended ever to be thought so, wou’d you have the impudence to marry an old Coxcomb, a Fellow that will not so much as serve you for a Cloke, he is so visibly and undeniably impotent?
Lady Galliard
Your Uncle you mean.
Tom Wilding
I do, who has not known the Joy of Fornication this thirty Year, and now the Devil and you have put it into his Head to marry, forsooth. Oh, the Felicity of the Wedding−Night!
Lady Galliard
Which you, with all your railing Rhetorick, shall not have power to hinder.
Tom Wilding
Not if you can help it; for I perceive you are resolved to be a leud incorrigible Sinner, and marry’st this seditious doting Fool my Uncle, only to hang him out for the sign of the Cuckold, to give notice where Beauty is to be purchas’d, for fear otherwise we should mistake, and think thee honest.
Lady Galliard
So much for my want of Honesty; my Wit is the part of the Text you are to handle next.
Tom Wilding
Let the World judge of that by this one Action: This Marriage undisputably robs you both of your Reputation and Pleasure. Marry an old Fool, because he’s rich! when so many handsome proper younger Brothers wou’d be glad of you.
Lady Galliard
Of which hopeful number your self are one.
Tom Wilding
Who, I! Bear witness, Closet; take notice I’m upon my Marriage, Widow, and such a Scandal on my Reputation might ruin me; therefore have a care what you say.
Lady Galliard
Ha, ha, ha, Marriage! Yes, I hear you give it out, you are to be married to me: for which Defamation, if I be not reveng’d, hang me.
Tom Wilding
Yes, you are reveng’d; I had the fame of vanquishing where’er I laid my Seige, till I knew thee, hard−hearted thee; had the honest Reputation of lying with the Magistrates Wives, when their Reverend Husbands were employ’d in the necessary Affairs of the Nation, seditiously petitioning: and then I was esteemed; but now they look on me as a monstrous thing, that makes honourable Love to you. Oh, hideous, a Husband Lover! so that now I may protest, and swear, and lye my Heart out, I find neither Credit nor Kindness; but when I beg for either, my Lady Galliard’s thrown in my Dish: Then they laugh aloud, and cry, who wou’d think it of gay, of fine Mr. Wilding? Thus the City She−wits are let loose upon me, and all for you, sweet Widow: but I am resolv’d I will redeem my Reputation again, if never seeing you, nor writing to you more, will do it. And so farewel, faithless and scandalous honest Woman.
Lady Galliard
Stay, Tyrant.
Tom Wilding
I am engag’d.
Lady Galliard
You are not.
Tom Wilding
I am, and am resolv’d to lose no more time on a peevish Woman, who values her Honour above her Lover. [He goes out]
Lady Galliard
Go, this is the noblest way of losing thee.
Mrs. Closet
Must I not call him back?
Lady Galliard
No, if any honest Lover come, admit him; I will forget this Devil. Fetch me some Jewels; the Company to night at Sir Timothy‘s may divert me. [She sits down before her Glass]
[Enter Boy]
Boy
Madam, one, Sir Anthony Meriwill, wou’d speak with your Ladyship.
Lady Galliard
Admit him; sure ’tis Sir Charles his Uncle; if he come to treat a Match with me for his Nephew, he takes me in a critical Minute. Wou’d hebut leave his whining, I might love him, if ’twere but in Revenge.
[Enter Sir Anthony Meriwill and Sir Charles]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
So, I have tutor’d the young Rogue, I hope he’ll learn in time [Aside]. Good Day to your Ladyship; Charles [putting him forward ] my Nephew here, Madam −− Sirrah −− notwithstanding your Ladyship’s Commands −− Look how he stands now, being a mad young Rascal! [Aside]−− Gad, he wou’d wait on your Ladyship −− A Devil on him, see if he’ll budge now [Aside]−− For he’s a brisk Lover, Madam, when he once begins. A Pox on him, he’ll spoil all yet [Aside].
Lady Galliard
Please you sit, Sir.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Madam, I beg your Pardon for my Rudeness.
Lady Galliard
Still whining? — [Dressing her self carelessly]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
D’ye hear that, Sirrah? oh, damn it, beg Pardon! the Rogue’s quite out of’s part.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Madam, I fear my Visit is unseasonable.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Unseasonable! damn’d Rogue, unseasonable to a Widow? −− Quite out.
Lady Galliard
There are indeed some Ladies that wou’d be angry at an untimely Visit, before they’ve put on their best Faces, but I am none of those that wou’d be fair in spite of Nature, Sir −− Put on this Jewel here. [To Closet]
Sir Charles Meriwill
That Beauty needs no Ornament, Heaven has been too bountiful.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Heaven! Oh Lord, Heaven! a puritanical Rogue, he courts her like her Chaplain. [Aside, vext]
Lady Galliard
You are still so full of University Complements −−
Sir Anthony Meriwill
D’ye hear that, Sirrah? −− Ay, so he is, indeed, Madam −− To her like a Man, ye Knave. [Aside to him]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Ah, Madam, I am come −−
Sir Anthony Meriwill
To shew your self a Coxcomb. [Aside]
Lady Galliard
To tire me with Discourses of your Passion −− Fie, how this Curl fits! [Looking in the Glass]
Sir Charles Meriwill
No, you shall hear no more of that ungrateful Subject.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Son of a Whore, hear no more of Love, damn’d Rogue! Madam, by George, he lyes; he does come to speak of Love, and make Love, and to do Love, and all for Love −− Not come to speak of Love, with a Pox! Owns, Sir, behave your self like a Man; be impudent, be saucy, forward, bold, touzing, and leud, d’ye hear, or I’ll beat thee before her: why, what a Pox! [Aside to him, he minds it not]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Finding my Hopes quite lost in your unequal Favours to young Wilding, I’m quitting of the Town.
Lady Galliard
You will do well to do so −− lay by that Necklace, I’ll wear Pearl to day. [To Closet]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Confounded Blockhead! [Aside]−− by George, he lyes again, Madam. A Dog, I’ll disinherit him [Aside]. He quit the Town, Madam! no, not whilst your Ladyship is in it, to my Knowledge. He’ll live in the Town, nay, in the Street where you live; nay, in the House; nay, in the very Bed, by George; I’ve heard him a thousand times swear it. Swear it now, Sirrah: [Aside] Look, look, how he stands now! Why, dear Charles, good Boy, swear a little, ruffle her, and swear, damn it, she shall have none but thee. [Aside to him] Why, you little think, Madam, that this Nephew of mine is one of the maddest Fellows in all Devonshire.
Lady Galliard
Wou’d I cou’d see’t, Sir.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
See’t! look ye there, ye Rogue [Aside]−− Why, ’tis all his Fault, Madam. He’s seldom sober; then he has a dozen Wenches in pay, that he may with the more Authority break their Windows. There’s never a Maid within forty Miles of Meriwill−Hall to work a Miracle on, but all are Mothers. He’s a hopeful Youth, I’ll say that for him.
Sir Charles Meriwill
How I have lov’d you, my Despairs shall witness: for I will die to purchase your Content. [She rises]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Die, a damn’d Rogue! Ay, ay, I’ll disinherit him: A Dog, die, with a Pox! [Aside] No, he’ll be hang’d first, Madam.
Sir Charles Meriwill
And sure you’ll pity me when I’m dead.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
A curse on him; pity, with a Pox. I’ll give him ne’er a Souse. [Aside]
Lady Galliard
Give me that Essence−bottle. [To Closet]
Sir Charles Meriwill
But for a Recompence of all my Sufferings −−
Lady Galliard
Sprinkle my Handkerchief with Tuberose. [To Closet]
Sir Charles Meriwill
I beg a Favour you’d afford a Stranger.
Lady Galliard
Sooner, perhaps. What Jewel’s that? [To Closet]
Mrs. Closet
One Sir Charles Meriwill −−
Lady Galliard
Sent, and you receiv’d without my Order! No wonder that he looks so scurvily. Give him the Trifle back to mend his Humour.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
I thank you, Madam, for that Reprimand. Look in that Glass, Sir, and admire that sneaking Coxcomb’s Countenance of yours: a pox on him, he’s past Grace, lost, gone: not a Souse, not a Groat; good b’ye to you, Sir. [Aside] Madam, I beg your Pardon; the next time I come a wooing, it shall be for my self, Madam, and I have something that will justify it too; but as for this Fellow, if your Ladyship have e’er a small Page at leisure, I desire he may have Order to kick him down Stairs. A damn’d Rogue, to be civil now, when he shou’d have behav’d himself handsomely! Not an Acre, not a Shilling −− buy Sir Softhead. [going out meets Wilding and returns] Hah, who have we here, hum, the fine mad Fellow? so, so, he’ll swinge him, I hope; I’ll stay to have the pleasure of seeing it done.
[Enter Wilding, brushes by Sir Charles]
Tom Wilding
I was sure ’twas Meriwill‘s Coach at Door. [Aside]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Hah, Wilding!
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Ay, now, Sir, here’s one will waken ye, Sir. [To Sir Charles]
Tom Wilding
How now, Widow, you are always giving Audience to Lovers, I see.
Sir Charles Meriwill
You’re very free, Sir.
Tom Wilding
I am always so in the Widow’s Lodgings, Sir.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
A rare Fellow!
Sir Charles Meriwill
You will not do’t elsewhere?
Tom Wilding
Not with so much Authority.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
An admirable Fellow! I must be acquainted with him.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Is this the Respect you pay Women of her Quality?
Tom Wilding
The Widow knows I stand not much upon Ceremonies.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Gad, he shall be my Heir. [Aside still]
Lady Galliard
Pardon him, Sir, this is his Cambridge-breeding.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Ay, so ’tis, so ’tis, that two Years there quite spoil’d him. [Aside]
Lady Galliard
Sir, if you’ve any further Business with me, speak it; if not, I’m going forth.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Madam, in short −−
Sir Anthony Meriwill
In short to a Widow, in short! quite lost. [Aside]
Sir Charles Meriwill
I find you treat me ill for my Respect;
And when I court you next,
I will forget how very much I love you.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Sir, I shall be proud of your farther Acquaintance; for I like, love, and honour you. [To Wilding]
Tom Wilding
I’ll study to deserve it, Sir.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Madam, your Servant. A damn’d sneaking Dog, to be civil and modest with a Pox!
[Exeunt Sir Charles and Sir Anthony]
Lady Galliard
See if my Coach be ready. [Exeunt Closet]
Tom Wilding
Whether are you janting now?
Lady Galliard
Where you dare not wait on me, to your Uncle’s to Supper.
Tom Wilding
That Uncle of mine pimps for all the Sparks of his Party;
There they all meet and bargain without Scandal:
Fops of all sorts and sizes you may chuse,
Whig−land offers not such another Market.
[Enter Closet]
Mrs. Closet
Madam, here’s Sir Timothy Treat−all come to wait on your Ladyship to Supper.
Tom Wilding
My Uncle! Oh, damn him, he was born to be my Plague: not−Disinheriting me had not been so great a Disappointment; and if he sees me here, I ruin all the Plots I’ve laid for him. Ha, he’s here.
[Enter Sir Timothy Treat-all]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How, my Nephew Thomas here!
Tom Wilding
Madam, I find you can be cruel too,
Knowing my Uncle has abandon’d me.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How now, Sir, what’s your Business here?
Tom Wilding
I came to beg a Favour of my Lady Galliard, Sir, knowing her Power and Quality here in the City.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How a Favour of my Lady Galliard! The Rogue said indeed he would cuckold me. [Aside] Why, Sir, I thought you had been taken up with your rich Heiress?
Tom Wilding
That was my Business now, Sir: Having in my possession the Daughter and Heir of Sir Nicholas Gett−all, I would have made use of the Authority of my Lady Galliard‘s House to have secur’d her, till I got things in order for our Marriage; but my Lady, to put me off, cries I have an Uncle.
Lady Galliard
A well contrived Lye. [Aside]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Well, I have heard of your good Fortune; and however a Reprobate thou hast been, I’ll not shew my self so undutiful an Uncle, as not to give the Gentlewoman a little House−room: I heard indeed she was gone a week ago, And, Sir, my House is at your Service.
Tom Wilding
I humbly thank you, Sir. Madam, your Servant. A pox upon him and his Association. [Aside] [Goes out]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Come, Madam, my Coach waits below.
[Exeunt]
