ACT I
Scene 1
The Street
Enter Sir Timothy Treat−all, follow’d by Tom Wilding, bare, Sir Charles Meriwill, Foppington, and Footman with a Cloke.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Trouble me no more: for I am resolv’d, deaf and obdurate, d’ye see, and so forth.
Tom Wilding
I beseech ye, Uncle, hear me.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
No.
Tom Wilding
Dear Uncle −−
Sir Timothy Treat−all
No.
Tom Wilding
You will be mortify’d −−
Sir Timothy Treat−all
No.
Tom Wilding
At least hear me out, Sir.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
No, I have heard you out too often, Sir, till you have talkt me out of many a fair Thousand; have had ye out of all the Bayliffs, Serjeants, and Constables Clutches about Town, Sir; have brought you out of all the Surgeons, Apothecaries, and pocky Doctors Hands, that ever pretended to cure incurable Diseases; and have crost ye out of the Books of all the Mercers, Silk−men, Exchange−men, Taylors, Shoemakers, and Sempstresses; with all the rest of the unconscionable City−tribe of the long Bill, that had but Faith enough to trust, and thought me Fool enough to pay.
Sir Charles Meriwill
But, Sir, consider, he’s your own Flesh and Blood.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
That’s more than I’ll swear.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Your only Heir.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
That’s more than you or any of his wise Associates can tell, Sir.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Why his wise Associates? Have you any Exception to the Company he keeps? This reflects on me and young Dresswell, Sir, Men both of Birth and Fortune.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Why, good Sir Charles Meriwill, let me tell you, since you’ll have it out, That you and young Dresswell are able to debauch, destroy, and confound all the young imitating Fops in Town.
Sir Charles Meriwill
How, Sir!
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Nay, never huff, Sir; for I have six thousand Pound a Year, and value no Man: Neither do I speak so much for your particular, as for the Company you keep, such Tarmagant Tories as these, [to Foppington] who are the very Vermin of a young Heir, and for one tickling give him a thousand bites.
Foppington
Death! meaning me, Sir?
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Yes, you, Sir. Nay, never stare, Sir; I fear you not; No Man’s hectoring signifies this −− in the City, but the Constables: no body dares be saucy here, except it be in the King’s name.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Sir, I confess he was to blame.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Sir Charles, thanks to Heaven, you may be leud, you have a plentiful Estate, may whore, drink, game, and play the Devil: your Uncle, Sir Anthony Meriwill, intends to give you all his Estate too. But for such Sparks as this, and my Fop in Fashion here, why, with what Face, Conscience, or Religion, can they be leud and vitious, keep their Wenches, Coaches, rich Liveries, and so forth, who live upon Charity, and the Sins of the Nation?
Sir Charles Meriwill
If he hath youthful Vices, he has Virtues too.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Yes, he had, but I know not, you have bewitch’d him amongst ye. [weeping] Before he fell to Toryism, he was a sober, civil Youth, and had some Religion in him, wou’d read ye Prayers Night and Morning with a laudable Voice, and cry Amen to ’em; ‘twou’d have done one’s Heart good to have heard him −− wore decent Clothes, was drunk but on Sundays and Holidays; and then I had Hopes of him. [Still weeping]
Tom Wilding
Ay, Heaven forgive me.
Sir Charles Meriwill
But, Sir, he’s now become a new Man, is casting off all his Women, is drunk not above five or six times a week, swears not above once in a quarter of an Hour, nor has not gam’d this two Days −−
Sir Timothy Treat−all
‘Twas because the Devil was in’s Pocket then.
Sir Charles Meriwill
−− Begins to take up at Coffee−houses, talks gravely in the City, speaks scandalously of the Government, and rails most abominably against the Pope and the French King.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Ay, ay, this shall not wheedle me out of one English Guinea; and so I told him yesterday.
Tom Wilding
You did so, Sir.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Yes; by a good Token you were witty upon me, and swore I lov’d and honoured the King no where but on his Coin.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Is it possible, Sir.
Tom Wilding
God forgive me, Sir; I confess I was a little overtaken.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Ay, so it shou’d seem: for he mistook his own Chamber, and went to bed to my Maid’s.
Sir Charles Meriwill
How! to bed to your Maid’s! Sure, Sir, ’tis scandal on him.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
No, no, he makes his brags on’t, Sir. Oh, that crying Sin of Boasting! Well fare, I say, the Days of old Oliver; he by a wholesom Act made it death to boast; so that then a Man might whore his Heart out, and no body the wiser.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Right, Sir, and then the Men pass’d for sober religious Persons, and the Women for as demure Saints −−
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Ay, then there was no scandal; but now they do not only boast what they do, but what they do not.
Tom Wilding
I’ll take care that fault shall be mended, Sir.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Ay, so will I, if Poverty has any Feats of Mortification; and so farewel to you, Sir. [Going]
Tom Wilding
Stay, Sir, are you resolv’d to be so cruel then, and ruin all my Fortunes now depending?
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Most religiously −−
Tom Wilding
You are?
Sir Timothy Treat−all
I am.
Tom Wilding
Death, I’ll rob.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Do and be hang’d.
Tom Wilding
Nay, I’ll turn Papist.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Do and be damn’d.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Bless me, Sir, what a Scandal would that be to the Family of the Treat−alls!
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Hum! I had rather indeed he turn’d Turk or Jew, for his own sake; but as for scandalizing me, I defy it: My Integrity has been known ever since Forty one; I bought three Thousand a year in Bishops Lands, as ’tis well known, and lost it at the King’s return; for which I’m honour’d by the City. But for his farther Satisfaction, Consolation, and Destruction, know, That I Sir Timothy Treat−all, Knight and Alderman, do think my self young enough to marry, d’ye see, and will wipe your Nose with a Son and Heir of my own begetting, and so forth. [Going away]
Tom Wilding
Death! marry! [Aside]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Patience, dear Tom, or thou’t spoil all. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
Damn him, I’ve lost all Patience, and can dissemble no longer, though I lose all [Aside] −− Very good, Sir; harkye, I hope she’s young and handsome; or if she be not, amongst the numerous lusty−stomacht Whigs that daily nose your publick Dinners, some may be found, that either for Money, Charity, or Gratitude, may requite your Treats. You keep open House to all the Party, not for Mirth, Generosity or good Nature, but for Roguery. You cram the Brethren, the pious City−Gluttons, with good Cheer, good Wine, and Rebellion in abundance, gormandizing all Comers and Goers, of all Sexes, Sorts, Opinions and Religions, young half−witted Fops, hot−headed Fools, and Malecontents: You guttle and fawn on all, and all in hopes of debauching the King’s Liege−people into Commonwealthsmen; and rather than lose a Convert, you’ll pimp for him. These are your nightly Debauches −− Nay, rather than you shall want it, I’ll cuckold you my self in pure Revenge.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How! Cuckold his own natural Uncle!
Sir Charles Meriwill
Oh, he cannot be so profane.
Tom Wilding
Profane! why he deny’d but now the having any share in me; and therefore ’tis lawful. I am to live by my Wits, you say, and your old rich good−natur’d Cuckold is as sure a Revenue to a handsome young Cadet, as a thousand Pound a Year. Your tolerable Face and Shape is an Estate in the City, and a better Bank than your Six per Cent at any time.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Well, Sir, since Nature has funisht you so well, you need but up and ride, show and be rich; and so your Servant, witty Mr. Wilding.
[Sir Timothy] goes out, [Wilding] looks after him.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Whilst I am labouring another’s good, I quite neglect my own. This cursed, proud, disdainful Lady Galliard, is ever in my Head; she’s now at Church, I’m sure, not for Devotion, but to shew her Charms, and throw her Darts amongst the gazing Croud; and grows more vain by Conquest. I’m near the Church, and must step in, though it cost me a new Wound. [Wilding stands pausing]
Tom Wilding
I am resolv’d [Aside]−− Well, dear Charles, let’s sup together to night, and contrive some way to be reveng’d of this wicked Uncle of mine. I must leave thee now, for I have an Assignation here at Church.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Hah! at Church!
Tom Wilding
Ay, Charles, with the dearest She−Saint, and I hope Sinner.
Sir Charles Meriwill
What, at Church? Pox, I shall be discover’d now in my Amours [Aside]. That’s an odd place for Love−Intrigues.
Tom Wilding
Oh, I am to pass for a sober, discreet Person to the Relations; but for my Mistress, she’s made of no such sanctify’d Materials; she is a Widow, Charles, young, rich, and beautiful.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Hah! if this shou’d prove my Widow, now. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
And though at her own dispose, yet is much govern’d by Honour, and a rigid Mother, who is ever preaching to her against the Vices of Youth, and t’other end of the Town Sparks; dreads nothing so much as her Daughter’s marrying a villanous Tory. So the young one is forc’d to dissemble Religion, the best Mask to hide a kind Mistress in.
Sir Charles Meriwill
This must be my Lady Galliard. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
There is at present some ill understanding between us; some damn’d Honourable Fop lays siege to her, which has made me ill received; and I having a new Intrigue elsewhere, return her cold Disdain, but now and then she crosses my Heart too violently to resist her. In one of these hot Fits I now am, and must find some occasion to speak to her.
Sir Charles Meriwill
By Heaven, it must be she! [Aside] −− I am studying now, amongst all our She−Acquaintance, who this shou’d be.
Tom Wilding
Oh, this is of Quality to be conceal’d; but the dearest loveliest Hypocrite, white as Lillies, smooth as Rushes, and plump as Grapes after a Shower, haughty her Mein, her Eyes full of Disdain, and yet bewitching sweet; but when she loves soft, witty, wanton, all that charms a Soul, and but for now and then a fit of Honour! Oh, damn the Nonsense, wou’d be all my own.
Sir Charles Meriwill
‘Tis she, by Heaven! [Aside] Methinks this Widow shou’d prove a good Income to you, as things now stand between you and your Uncle.
Tom Wilding
Ah, Charles, but I am otherways dispos’d of. There is the most charming pretty thing in nature fallen in love with this Person of mine, a rich City−Heiress, Charles, and I have her in possession.
Sir Charles Meriwill
How can you love two at once? I’ve been as wild and as extravagant, as Youth and Wealth cou’d render me; but ne’er arrived to that degree of Leudness, to deal my Heart about: my Hours I might, but Love shou’d be intire.
Tom Wilding
Ah, Charles, two such bewitching Faces wou’d give thy Heart the lye: −− But Love divides us, and I must into Church. Adieu till Night. [Exit]
Sir Charles Meriwill
And I must follow, to resolve my Heart in what it dreads to learn. Here, my Cloke. [Takes his Cloke from his Man, and puts it on] Hah, Church is done! See, they are coming forth!
Enter People cross the Stage, as from Church; amongst ’em Sir Anthony Meriwill, follow’d by Sir Timothy Treat−all.
Hah, my Uncle! He must not see me here. [Throws his Cloke over his Face]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
What my old Friend and Acquaintance, Sir Anthony Meriwill!
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Sir Timothy Treat−all!
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Why, how long have you been in Town, Sir?
Sir Anthony Meriwill
About three days, Sir.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Three days, and never came to dine with me! ’tis unpardonable! What, you keep close to the Church, I see: You are for the Surplice still, old Orthodox you; the Times cannot mend you, I see.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
No, nor shall they mar me, Sir.
Sir Charles Meriwill
They are discoursing; I’ll pass by. [Aside. Exit Sir Charles.]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
As I take it, you came from Church too.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Ay, needs must when the Devil drives. I go to save my Bacon, as they say, once a Month, and that too after the Porridge is serv’d up.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Those that made it, Sir, are wiser than we. For my part, I love good wholesom Doctrine, that teaches Obedience to the King and Superiors, without railing at the Government, and quoting Scripture for Sedition, Mutiny and Rebellion. Why here was a jolly Fellow this Morning made a notable Sermon. By George, our Country−Vicars are mere Scholars to your Gentlemen Town−Parsons! Hah, how he handled the Text, and run Divisions upon’t! ‘twould make a Man sin with moderation, to hear how he claw’d away the Vices of the Town, Whoring, Drinking, and Conventicling, with the rest of the deadly number.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Good lack! an he were so good at Whoring and Drinking, you’d best carry your Nephew, Sir Charles Meriwill, to Church; he wants a little documentizing that way.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Hum! you keep your old wont still; a Man can begin no Discourse to you, be it of Prester John, but you still conclude with my Nephew.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Good Lord! Sir Anthony, you need not be so purty; what I say, is the Discourse of the whole City, how lavishly you let him live, and give ill Examples to all young Heirs.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
The City! The City’s a grumbling, lying, dissatisfy’d City, and no wise or honest Man regards what it says. Do you, or any of the City, stand bound to his Scrivener or Taylor? He spends what I allow him, Sir, his own; and you’re a Fool, or Knave, chuse ye whether, to concern your self.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Good lack! I speak but what wiser Men discourse.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Wiser Men! wiser Coxcombs. What, they wou’d have me train my Nephew up, a hopeful Youth, to keep a Merchant’s Book, or send him to chop Logick in an University, and have him returned an arrant learned Ass, to simper, and look demure, and start at Oaths and Wenches, whilst I fell his Woods, and grant Leases: And lastly, to make good what I have cozen’d him of, force him to marry Mrs. Crump, the ill−favour’d Daughter of some Right Worshipful. −− A Pox of all of such Guardians!
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Do, countenance Sin and Expences, do.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
What Sin, what Expences? He wears good Clothes, why, Trades−men get the more by him; he keeps his Coach, ’tis for his Ease; a Mistress, ’tis for his Pleasure; he games, ’tis for his Diversion: And where’s the harm of this? is there ought else you can accuse him with?
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Yes, −− a Pox upon him, he’s my Rival too [Aside]. Why then I’ll tell you, Sir, he loves a Lady.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
If that be a Sin, Heaven help the Wicked!
Sir Timothy Treat−all
But I mean honourably −−
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Honourably! why do you know any Infirmity in him, why he shou’d not marry? [Angrily]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Not I, Sir.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Not you, Sir? why then you’re an Ass, Sir −− But is this Lady young and handsom?
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Ay, and rich too, Sir.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
No matter for Money, so she love the Boy.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
Love him! No, Sir, she neither does, nor shall love him.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
How, Sir, nor shall love him! By George, but she shall, and lie with him too, if I please, Sir.
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How, Sir! lie with a rich City−Widow, and a Lady, and to be married to a fine Reverend old Gentleman within a day or two?
Sir Anthony Meriwill
His Name, Sir, his Name; I’ll dispatch him presently. [Offers to draw]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How, Sir, dispatch him! −− Your Servant, Sir. [Offers to go]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Hold, Sir! by this abrupt departure, I fancy you the Boy’s Rival: Come, draw. [Draws]
Sir Timothy Treat−all
How, draw, Sir!
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Ay, draw, Sir; not my Nephew have the Widow!
Sir Timothy Treat−all
With all my Soul, Sir; I love and honour your Nephew. I his Rival! alas, Sir, I’m not so fond of Cuckoldom. Pray, Sir, let me see you and Sir Charles at my House, I may serve him in this business; and so I take my leave, Sir −− Draw quoth−a! Pox upon him for an old Tory−rory. [Aside] [Exit]
Enter as from Church, L. Galliard, Closet, and Footman: Wilding passes carelessly by her, Sir Charles Meriwill following, wrapt up in his Cloke.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Who’s here? Charles muffled in a Cloke peering after a Woman? My own Boy to a Hair! She’s handsom too. I’ll step aside; for I must see the meaning on’t. [Goes aside]
Lady Galliard
Bless me! how unconcern’d he pass’d!
Mrs. Closet
He bow’d low, Madam.
Lady Galliard
But ’twas in such a fashion, as exprest Indifferency, much worse than Hate from Wilding.
Mrs. Closet
Your Ladyship has us’d him ill of late; yet i your Ladyship please, I’ll call him back.
Lady Galliard
I’ll die first −− Hah, he’s going! Yet now I think on’t I have a Toy of his, which to express my scorn, I’ll give him back now −− this Ring.
Mrs. Closet
Shall I carry it, Madam?
Lady Galliard
You’ll not express Disdain enough in the Delivery; and you may call him back. [Closet goes to Wilding]
Sir Charles Meriwill
By Heaven, she’s fond of him. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
Oh, Mrs. Closet! is it you? −− Madam, your Servant: By this Disdain, I fear your Woman, Madam, has mistaken her Man. Wou’d your Ladyship speak with me?
Lady Galliard
Yes. −− But what? the God of Love instruct me. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
Command me quickly, Madam; for I have business.
Lady Galliard
Nay, then I cannot be discreet in Love. [Aside]
−− Your business once was Love, nor had no idle hours
To throw away on any other thought;
You lov’d, as if you had no other Faculties,
As if you’d meant to gain eternal Bliss,
By that Devotion only: And see how now you’re chang’d.
Tom Wilding
Not I, by Heaven; ’tis you are only chang’d.
I thought you’d lov’d me too, curse on the dull mistake!
But when I beg’d to reap the mighty Joy
That mutual Love affords,
You turn’d me off from Honour,
That Nothing, fram’d by some old sullen Maid,
That wanted Charms to kindle Flames when young.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
By George, he’s i’th’ right. [Aside]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Death! can she hear this Language? [Aside]
Lady Galliard
How dare you name this to me any more?
Have you forgot my Fortune, and my Youth,
My Quality, and Fame?
Tom Wilding
No, by Heaven, all these increase my Flame.
Lady Galliard
Perhaps they might, but yet I wonder where
You got the boldness to approach me with it.
Tom Wilding
Faith, Madam, from your own encouragement.
Lady Galliard
From mine! Heavens, what Contempt is this?
Tom Wilding
When first I paid my Vows, (good Heaven forgive me)
They were for Honour all;
But wiser you, thanks to your Mother’s care too,
Knowing my Fortune an uncertain hope,
My Life of Scandal, and my leud Opinion,
Forbad me wish that way; ’twas kindly urg’d;
You cou’d not then forbid my Passion too,
Nor did I ever from your Lips or Eyes
Receive the cruel Sentence of my Death.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Gad, a fine Fellow this! [Aside]
Lady Galliard
To save my Life, I wou’d not marry thee.
Tom Wilding
That’s kindly said.
But to save mine, thou’t do a kinder thing;
−− I know thou wo’t.
Lady Galliard
What, yield my Honour up!
And after find it sacrific’d anew,
And made the scorn of a triumphing Wife!
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Gad, she’s i’th’ right too! a noble Girl I’ll warrant her.
Lady Galliard
But you disdain to satisfy these fears;
And like a proud and haughty Conqueror,
Demand the Town, without the least Conditions.
Sir Charles Meriwill
By Heaven, she yields apace. [Aside]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Pox on’t, wou’d I had ne’er seen her; now I have Legions of small Cupids at Hot−cockles in my Heart. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
Now I am pausing on that word Conditions.
Thou say’st thou wou’t not have me marry thee;
That is, as if I lov’d thee for thy Eyes
And put ’em out to hate thee;
Or like our Stage−smitten Youth, who fall in Love with a Woman for acting finely, and by taking her off the Stage, deprive her of the only Charm she had,
Then leave her to ill Luck.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Gad , he’s i’th’ right again too! a rare Fellow! [Aside]
Tom Wilding
For, Widow, know, hadst thou more Beauty, yet not all of ’em were half so great a Charm as they not being mine.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Hum! how will he make that out now? [Aside]
Tom Wilding
The stealths of Love, the midnight kind Admittance,
The gloomy Bed, the soft breath’d murmuring Passion;
Ah, who can guess at Joys thus snatch’d by parcels?
The difficulty makes us always wishing,
Whilst on thy part, Fear makes still some resistance;
And every Blessing seems a kind of Rape.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
H’as don’t! −− A Divine Fellow that; just of my Religion. I am studying now whether I was never acquainted with his Mother. [Aside]
Lady Galliard walks away, Wilding follows.
Lady Galliard
Tempt me no more! what dull unwary Flame
Possest me all this while! Confusion on thee, [In Rage]
And all the Charms that dwell upon thy Tongue.
Diseases ruin that bewitching Form,
That with the soft feign’d Vows debaucht my Heart.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Heavens! can I yet endure! [Aside]
Lady Galliard
By all that’s good, I’ll marry instantly;
Marry, and save my last Stake, Honour, yet,
Or thou wilt rook me out of all at last.
Tom Wilding
Marry! thou canst not do a better thing;
There are a thousand Matrimonial Fops,
Fine Fools of Fortune,
Good−natur’d Blockheads too, and that’s a wonder.
Lady Galliard
That will be manag’d by a Man of Wit.
Tom Wilding
Right.
Lady Galliard
I have an eye upon a Friend of yours.
Tom Wilding
A Friend of mine! then he must be my Cuckold.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Very fine! can I endure yet more? [Aside]
Lady Galliard
Perhaps it is your Uncle.
Tom Wilding
Hah, my Uncle! [Sir Charles makes up to ’em]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Hah, my Charles! why, well said, Charles, he bore up briskly to her. [Aside]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Ah, Madam, may I presume to tell you −−
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Ah, Pox, that was stark naught! he begins like a Fore−man o’th’ Shop, to his Master’s Daughter. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
How, Charles Meriwill acquainted with my Widow! [Aside]
Sir Charles Meriwill
Why do you wear that scorn upon your Face?
I’ve nought but honest meaning in my Passion,
Whilst him you favour so profanes your Beauties,
In scorn of Marriage and Religious Rites,
Attempts the ruin of your sacred Honour.
Lady Galliard
Hah, Wilding boast my Love! [Aside]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
The Devil take him, my Nephew’s quite spoil’d! Why, what a Pox has he to do with Honour now?
Lady Galliard
Pray leave me, Sir. −−
Tom Wilding
Damn it, since he knows all, I’ll boldly own my flame [Aside]–You take a liberty I never gave you, Sir.
Sir Charles Meriwill
How, this from thee! nay, then I must take more,
And ask you where you borrow’d that Brutality,
T’ approach that Lady with your saucy Passion.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Gad, well done, Charles! here must be sport anon. [Aside]
Tom Wilding
I will not answer every idle Question.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Death, you dare not.
Tom Wilding
How, dare not!
Sir Charles Meriwill
No, dare not; for if you did −−
Tom Wilding
What durst you, if I did?
Sir Charles Meriwill
Death, cut your Throat, Sir. [Taking hold on him roughly]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Hold, hold, let him have fair play, and then curse him that parts ye. [Sir Anthony taking ’em asunder, they draw]
Lady Galliard
Hold, I command ye, hold!
Sir Charles Meriwill
There rest my Sword to all Eternity. [Lays his Sword at her Feet]
Lady Galliard
Now I conjure ye both, by all your Honour,
If you were e’er acquainted with that Virtue,
To see my Face no more,
Who durst dispute your Interest in me thus,
As for a common Mistress, in your Drink.
She goes out, and all but Wilding, Sir Anthony and Sir Charles who stands sadly looking after her.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
A Heavenly Girl! −− Well, now she’s gone, by George, I am for disputing your Title to her by dint of Sword.
Sir Charles Meriwill
I wo’not fight.
Tom Wilding
Another time will decide it, Sir. [Wilding goes out]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
After your whining Prologue, Sir, who the Devil would have expected such a Farce? −− Come, Charles, take up thy sword, Charles; and d’ye hear forget me this Woman. −−
Sir Charles Meriwill
Forget her, Sir! there never was a thing so excellent!
Sir Anthony Meriwill
You lye, Sirrah, you lye, there’s a thousand
As fair, as young, and kinder by this day.
We’ll into th’ Country, Charles, where every Grove
Affords us rustick Beauties,
That know no Pride nor Painting,
And that will take it and be thankful, Charles;
Fine wholesom Girls that fall like ruddy Fruit,
Fit for the gathering, Charles.
Sir Charles Meriwill
Oh, Sir, I cannot relish the coarse Fare.
But what’s all this, Sir, to my present Passion?
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Passion, Sir! you shall have no Passion, Sir.
Sir Charles Meriwill
No Passion, Sir! shall I have Life and Breath?
Sir Anthony Meriwill
It may be not, Sirrah, if it be my will and pleasure. −− Why how now! saucy Boys be their own Carvers?
Sir Charles Meriwill
Sir, I am all Obedience. [Bowing and sighing.]
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Obedience! Was ever such a Blockhead! why then, if I command it, you will not love this Woman?
Sir Charles Meriwill
No, Sir.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
No, Sir! But I say, Yes, Sir, love her me; and love her me like a Man too, or I’ll renounce ye, Sir.
Sir Charles Meriwill
I’ve try’d all ways to win upon her Heart, Presented, writ, watcht, fought, pray’d, kneel’d, and wept.
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Why, there’s it now; I thought so: kneel’d and wept! a Pox upon thee −− I took thee for a prettier Fellow −−
You shou’d have huft and bluster’d at her door,
Been very impudent and saucy, Sir,
Leud, ruffling, mad; courted at all hours and seasons;
Let her not rest, nor eat, nor sleep, nor visit.
Believe me, Charles, Women love Importunity.
Watch her close, watch her like a Witch, Boy,
Till she confess the Devil in her, −− Love.
Sir Charles Meriwill
I cannot, Sir, Her Eyes strike such an awe into my Soul −−
Sir Anthony Meriwill
Strike such a Fiddle−stick. −− Sirrah, I say, do’t; what, you can towse a Wench as handsomely −− You can be leud enough upon occasion. I know not the Lady, nor her Fortune; but I’m resolv’d thou shalt have her, with practising a little Courtship of my Mode. −− Come −−
Come, my Boy Charles, since thou must needs be doing,
I’ll shew thee how to go a Widow−wooing. [Exeunt]
