ACT III

Act III

Scene 1

A Room

 

Enter Sir Timothy Treat−all, and Jervice.

 

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Here, take my Sword, Jervice. What have you inquir’d, as I directed you, concerning the rich Heiress, Sir Nicholas Get−all‘s Daughter?

Jervice

Alas, Sir, inquir’d! why, ’tis all the City−News that she’s run away with one of the maddest Tories about Town.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Good Lord! Ay, ay, ’tis so; the plaguy Rogue my Nephew has got her. That Heaven shou’d drop such Blessings in the Mouths of the wicked! Well, Jervice, what Company have we in the House, Jervice?

Jervice

Why truly, Sir, a fine deal, considering there’s no Parliament.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

What Lords have we, Jervice?


Jervice

Lords, Sir, truly none.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

None! what, ne’er a Lord! some mishap will befall me, some dire mischance! Ne’er a Lord! ominous, ominous! our Party dwindles daily. What, nor Earl, nor Marquess, nor Duke, nor ne’er a Lord! Hum, my Wine will lie most villanously upon my Hands to Night, Jervice. What, have we store of Knights and Gentlemen?

Jervice

I know not what Gentlemen there be, Sir; but there are Knights, Citizens, their Wives and Daughters.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Make us thankful for that; our Meat will not lie upon our Hands then, Jervice: I’ll say that for our little Londoners, they are as tall Fellows at a well−charg’d Board as any in Christendom.

Jervice

Then, Sir, there’s Nonconformist−Parsons.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Nay, then we shall have a clear Board; for your true Protestant Appetite in a Lay−Elder, does a Man’s Table Credit.

Jervice

Then, Sir, there’s Country Justices and Grand−Jury−Men.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Well enough, well enough, Jervice.

Enter Mrs. Sensure.


Mrs. Sensure

An’t like your Worship, Mr. Wilding is come in with a Lady richly drest in Jewels, mask’d, in his Hand, and will not be deny’d speaking with your Worship.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Hah, rich in Jewels! this must be she. My Sword again, Jervice. −− Bring ’em up, Sensure. [Exit Sensure] −− Prithee how do I look to Night, Jervice? [Setting himself]

Jervice

Oh, most methodically, Sir.

Enter Wilding, with Diana, and Betty.

Tom Wilding

Sir, I have brought into your kind protection the richest Jewel all London can afford, fair Mrs. Charlot Gett−all.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Bless us, she’s ravishing fair! Lady, I had the honour of being intimate with your worthy Father. I think he has been dead −−

Diana

If he catechize me much on that point, I shall spoil all. [Aside] Alas, Sir, name him not; for if you do, [Weeping] I’m sure I cannot answer you one Question.

Tom Wilding

For Heaven sake, Sir, name not her Father to her; the bare remembrance of him kills her. [Aside to him]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Alas, poor Soul! Lady, I beg your Pardon. How soft−hearted she is! I am in love; I find already a kind of tickling of I know not what, run frisking through my Veins. [Aside]

Betty

Ay, Sir, the good Alderman has been dead this twelve−month just, and has left his Daughter here, my Mistress, three thousand Pound a Year. [Weeping]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Three thousand Pound a Year! Yes, yes, I am in love. [Aside]

Betty

Besides Money, Plate, and Jewels.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

I’ll marry her out of hand, [Aside] Alas, I cou’d even weep too; but ’tis in vain. Well, Nephew, you may be gone now; for ’tis not necessary you shou’d be seen here, d’ye see. [Pushing him out]

Tom Wilding

You see, Sir, now, what Heaven has done for me; and you have often told me, Sir, when that was kind you wou’d be so. Those Writings, Sir, by which you were so good to make me Heir to all your Estate, you said you wou’d put into my possession, whene’er I made it appear to you I could live without ’em, or bring you a Wife of Fortune home.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

And I will keep my word; ’tis time enough. [Putting him out]

Tom Wilding

I have, ’tis true, been wicked; but I shall now turn from my evil ways, establish my self in the religious City, and enter into the Association. There want but these same Writings, Sir, and your good Character of me.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Thou shalt have both, all in good time, Man: Go, go thy ways, and I’ll warrant thee for a good Character, go.

Tom Wilding

Ay, Sir, but the Writings, because I told her, Sir, I was your Heir; nay, forc’d to swear too, before she wou’d believe me.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Alas, alas! how shreudly thou wert put to’t!

Tom Wilding

I told her too, you’d buy a Patent for me; for nothing woos a City−Fortune like the hopes of a Ladyship.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

I’m glad of that; that I can settle on her presently. [Aside]

Tom Wilding

You may please to hint something to her of my godly Life and Conversation; that I frequent Conventicles, and am drunk no where but at your true Protestant Consults and Clubs, and the like.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Nay, if these will please her, I have her for certain. [Aside] Go, go, fear not my good word.

Tom Wilding

But the Writings, Sir −−

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Am I a Jew, a Turk? Thou shalt have any thing, now I find thee a Lad of Parts, and one that can provide so well for thy Uncle. [Aside] [Sir Timothy puts Wilding out, and addresses himself to the Lady]

Tom Wilding

Wou’d they were hang’d that trust you, that have but the art of Legerdemain, and can open the Japan−Cabinet in your Bed−chamber, where I know those Writings are kept. Death, what a disappointment’s here! I wou’d ha’ sworn this Sham had past upon him. [Aside] But, Sir, shall I not have the Writings now?

Sir Timothy Treat−all

What, not gone yet! for shame, away; canst thou distrust thy own natural Uncle? Fie, away, Tom, away.

Tom Wilding

A Plague upon your damn’d Dissimulation, that never failing Badge of all your Party, there’s always mischief at the bottom on’t; I know ye all; and Fortune be the Word. When next I see you, Uncle, it shall cost you dearer. [Aside] [Exit]

Enter Jervice

Jervice

An’t please your Worship, Supper’s almost over, and you are askt for.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

They know I never sup; I shall come time enough to bid ’em welcome. [Exit Jervice]

Diana

I keep you, Sir, from Supper, and better Company.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Lady, Were I a Glutton, I cou’d be satisfy’d

With feeding on those two bright starry Eyes.

Diana

You are a Courtier, Sir; we City−Maids do seldom hear such Language; in which you shew your kindness to your Nephew, more than your thoughts of what my Beauty merits.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Lord, Lord, how innocent she is! [Aside] My nephew, Madam? yes, yes, I cannot chuse but be wondrous kind upon his score.

Diana

Nay, he has often told me, you were the best of Uncles, and he deserves your goodness, so hopeful a young Gentleman.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Wou’d I cou’d see’t. [Aside]

Diana

So modest.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Yes, ask my Maids. [Aside]

Diana

So civil.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Yes, to my Neighbours Wives. [Aside] But so, Madam, I find by this high Commendation of my Nephew, your Ladyship has a very slender opinion of your devoted Servant the while: or else, Madam, with this not disagreeable Face and Shape of mine, six thousand Pound a year, and other Virtues and Commodities that shall be nameless, I see no reason why I shou’d not beget an Heir of my own Body, had I the helping hand of a certain victorious Person in the World, that shall be nameless. [Bowing and smirking]

Diana

Meaning me, I am sure; if I shou’d marry him now, and disappoint my dear Inconstant with an Heir of his own begetting, ‘twou’d be a most wicked Revenge for past Kindnesses. [Aside]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

I know your Ladyship is studying now who this victorious Person shou’d be, whom I dare not name: but let it suffice, she is, Madam, within a Mile of an Oak.

Diana

No, Sir, I was considering, if what you say be true,
How unadvisedly I have lov’d your Nephew,
Who swore to me he was to be your Heir.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

My Heir, Madam! am I so visibly old to be so desperate?
No, I’m in my years of desires and discretion,
And I have thoughts, durst I but utter ’em;
But modestly say, Mum −−

Diana

I took him for the hopefullest Gentleman −−

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Let him hope on, so will I; and yet, Madam, in consideration of your Love to him, and because he is my Nephew, young, handsome, witty, and so forth, I am content to be so much a Parent to him, as if Heaven please, −− to see him fairly hang’d.

Diana

How, Sir! [In amaze]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

He has deserv’d it, Madam: First, for lampooning the Reverend City with its noble Government, with the Right Honourable Gown−men; libelling some for Feasting, and some for Fasting, some for Cuckolds, and some for Cuckold−makers; charging us with all the seven deadly Sins, the Sins of our Fore−fathers, adding seven score more to the number; the Sins of Forty−One reviv’d again in Eighty−One, with Additions and Amendments; for which, though the Writings were drawn, by which I made him my whole Executor, I will disinherit him. Secondly, Madam, he deserves hanging for seducing, and most feloniously bearing away a young City−Heiress.

Diana

Undone, undone! Oh, with what Face can I return again!
What Man of Wealth or Reputation, now
Will think me worth the owning! [Feigns to weep]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Yes, yes, Madam, there are honest, discreet, religious, and true Protestant Knights in the City, that wou’d be proud to dignify and distinguish so worthy a Gentlewoman. [Bowing and smiling]

Betty

Look to your hits, and take fortune by the forelock, Madam. [Aside]−− Alas, Madam, no Knight, and poor too!

Sir Timothy Treat−all

As a Tory Poet.

Betty

Well, Madam, take Comfort; if the worst come to the worst, you have Estate enough for both.

Diana

Ay, Betty, were he but honest, Betty. [Weeping]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Honest! I think he will not steal; but for his Body, the Lord have mercy upon’t, for he has none.

Diana

‘Tis evident, I am betray’d, abus’d;

H’as lookt and sigh’d, and talkt away my Heart;
H’as sworn, and vow’d, and flatter’d me to ruin. [Weeping]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

A small fault with him; he has flatter’d and sworn me out of many a fair Thousand: why, he has no more Conscience than a Politician, nor no more Truth than a Narrative (under the Rose).

Diana

Is there no Truth nor Honesty i’th’ World?

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Troth, very little, and that lies all i’th’ City amongst us sober Magistrates.

Diana

Were I a Man, how wou’d I be reveng’d!

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Your Ladyship might do it better as you are were I worthy to advise you.

Diana

Name it.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Why, by marrying your Ladyship’s most assur’d Friend, and most humble Servant, Timothy Treat−all of London, Alderman. [Bowing]

Betty

Ay, this is something, Mistress; here’s Reason.

Diana

But I have given my Faith and Troth to Wilding, Betty.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Faith and Troth! We stand upon neither Faith nor Troth in the City, Lady. I have known an Heiress married and bedded, and yet with the Advice of the wiser Magistrates, has been unmarried and consummated anew with another, so it stands with our Interest: ’tis Law by Magna Charta. Nay, had you married my ungracious Nephew, we might by this our Magna Charta have hang’d him for a Rape.

Diana

What, though he had my Consent?

Sir Timothy Treat−all

That’s nothing, he had not ours.

Diana

Then shou’d I marry you by stealth, the Danger wou’d be the same.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

No, no, Madam, we never accuse one another; ’tis the poor Rogues, the Tory Rascals we always hang. Let ’em accuse me if they please; alas, I come off hand−smooth with Ignoramus.

Enter Jervice.

Jervice

Sir, there’s such a calling for your Worship! They are all very merry, the Glasses go briskly about.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Go, go, I’ll come when all the Healths are past; I love no Healths.

Jervice

They are all over, Sir, and the Ladies are for dancing; so they are all adjourning from the Dining−room hither, as more commodious for that Exercise. I think they’re coming, Sir.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Hah, coming! Call Sensure to wait on the Lady to her Apartment.

[Exit Jervice, enter Sensure]

—-And, Madam, I do most heartily recommend my most humble Address to your most judicious Consideration, hoping you will most vigorously, and with all your might, maintain the Rights and Privileges of the Honourable City; and not suffer the Force or Persuasion of any Arbitrary Lover whatsoever, to subvert their antient and Fundamental Laws, by seducing and forcibly bearing away so rich and so illustrious a Lady: and, Madam, we will unaminously stand by you with our Lives and Fortunes. −− This I learnt from a Speech at the Election of a Burgess. [Aside] [Leads her to the Door; she goes out with Betty and Sensure.]

Enter Musick playing, Sir Anthony Meriwill dancing with a Lady in his Hand, Sir Charles with Lady Galliard, several other Women and Men

Sir Anthony Meriwill

[Singing]

Philander was a jolly Swain,
And lov’d by ev’ry Lass;
Whom when he met along the Plain,
He laid upon the Grass.



And here he kist, and there he play’d
With this and then the t’other,
Till every wanton smiling Maid
At last became a Mother.


And to her Swain, and to her Swain,
The Nymph begins to yield;
Ruffle, and breathe, then to’t again,
Thou’rt Master of the Field.


[Sir Anthony clapping Sir Charles Meriwill on the back]

Sir Charles Meriwill

And if I keep it not, say I’m a Coward, Uncle.

Sir Anthony Meriwill

More Wine there, Boys, I’ll keep the Humour up.

 Enter Servants with Bottles and Glasses

Sir Timothy Treat−all

How! young Meriwill so close to the Widow −− Madam – [Addressing himself to her, Sir Charles puts him by]

Sir Charles Meriwill

Sir Timothy, why, what a Pox dost thou bring that damn’d Puritanical, Schismatical, Fanatical, Small−beer−Face of thine into good Company? Give him a full Glass to the Widow’s Health.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

O lack, Sir Charles, no Healths for me, I pray.

Sir Charles Meriwill

Hark ye, leave that cozening, canting, sanctify’d Sneer of yours, and drink ye me like a sober loyal Magistrate, all those Healths you are behind, from his sacred Majesty, whom God long preserve, with the rest of the Royal Family, even down to this wicked Widow, whom Heaven soon convert from her leud designs upon my Body. [Pulling Sir Timothy to kneel]

Sir Anthony Meriwill

A rare Boy! he shall have all my Estate.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

How, the Widow a leud design upon his Body! Nay, then I am jealous. [Aside]

Lady Galliard

I a leud design upon your Body; for what, I wonder?

Sir Charles Meriwill

Why, for villanous Matrimony.

Lady Galliard

Who, I?

Sir Charles Meriwill

Who, you! yes, you.
Why are those Eyes drest in inviting Love?

Those soft bewitching Smiles, those rising Breasts,
And all those Charms that make you so adorable,
Is’t not to draw Fools into Matrimony?

Sir Anthony Meriwill

How’s that, how’s that! Charles at his Adorables and Charms! He must have t’other Health, he’ll fall to his old Dog−trot again else. Come, come, every man his Glass; Sir Timothy, you are six behind: Come, come, Charles, name ’em all. [Each take a Glass, and force Sir Timothy on his knees]

Sir Charles Meriwill

−− Not bate ye an Ace, Sir. Come, his Majesty’s Health, and Confusion to his Enemies. [They go to force his Mouth open to drink]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Hold, Sir, hold, if I must drink, I must; but this is very arbitrary, methinks. [Drinks]

Sir Anthony Meriwill

And now, Sir, to the Royal Duke of Albany. Musick, play a Scotch Jig. [Music plays, they drink]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

This is mere Tyranny.

Enter Jervice

Jervice

Sir, there is alighted at the Gate a Person of Quality, as appears by his Train, who give him the Title of a Lord.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

How, a strange Lord! Conduct him up with Ceremony, Jervice −− ‘Ods so, he’s here!

Enter Wilding in disguise, Dresswell, and Footmen and Pages.

Tom Wilding

Sir, by your Reverend Aspect, you shou’d be the renown’d Mester de Hotel.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Mater de Otell! I have not the Honour to know any of that Name, I am call’d Sir Timothy Treat−all. [Bowing]

Tom Wilding

The same, Sir; I have been bred abroad, and thought all Persons of Quality had spoke French.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Not City Persons of Quality, my Lord.

Tom Wilding

I’m glad on’t, Sir; for ’tis a Nation I hate, as indeed I do all Monarchies.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Hum! hate Monarchy! Your Lordship is most welcome. [Bows]

Tom Wilding

Unless Elective Monarchies, which so resemble a Commonwealth.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Right, my Lord; where every Man may hope to take his turn −− Your Lordship is most singularly welcome. [Bows low]

Tom Wilding

And though I am a Stranger to your Person, I am not to your Fame, amongst the sober Party of the Amsterdamians, all the French Hugonots throughout Geneva; even to Hungary and Poland, fame’s Trumpet sounds your Praise, making the Pope to fear, the rest admire you.

Sir Anthony Meriwill

I’m much oblig’d to the renowned Mobile.

Tom Wilding

So you will say, when you shall hear my Embassy. The Polanders by me salute you, Sir, and have in this next new Election prick’d ye down for their succeeding King.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

How, my Lord, prick’d me down for a King! Why, this is wonderful! Prick’d me, unworthy me down for a King! How cou’d I merit this amazing Glory!

Tom Wilding

They know, he that can be so great a Patriot to his Native Country, where but a private Person, what must he be when Power is on his side?

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Ay, my Lord, my Country, my bleeding Country! there’s the stop to all my rising Greatness. Shall I be so ungrateful to disappoint this big expecting Nation? defeat the sober Party, and my Neighbours, for any Polish Crown? But yet, my Lord, I will consider on’t: Mean time my House is yours.

Tom Wilding

I’ve brought you, Sir, the Measure of the Crown: Ha, it fits you to a Hair. [Pulls out a Ribband, measures his Head] You were by Heav’n and Nature fram’d that Monarch.

Sir Anthony Meriwill

Hah, at it again! [Sir Charles making sober Love] Come, we grow dull, Charles; where stands the Glass? What, balk my Lady Galliard‘s Health! [They go to drink]

Tom Wilding

Hah, Galliard −− and so sweet on Meriwill! [Aside]

Lady Galliard

If it be your business, Sir, to drink, I’ll withdraw.

Sir Charles Meriwill

Gad, and I’ll withdraw with you, Widow. Hark ye, Lady Galliard, I am damnably afraid you cannot bear Liquor well, you are so forward to leave good Company and a Bottle.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Well, Gentlemen, since I have done what I never do, to oblige you, I hope you will not refuse a Health of my Denomination.

Sir Anthony Meriwill

We scorn to be so uncivil. [All take the Glasses]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Why then here’s a conceal’d Health that shall be nameless, to his Grace the King of Poland.

Sir Charles Meriwill

King of Poland! Lord, Lord, how your Thoughts ramble!

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Not so far as you imagine; I know what I say, Sir.

Sir Charles Meriwill

Away with it. [Drink all]

Tom Wilding

I see, Sir, you still keep up that English Hospitality that so renowned our Ancestors in History. [Looking on Lady Galliard]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Ay, my Lord, my noble Guests are my Wife and Children.

Tom Wilding

Are you not married, then? Death, she smiles on him. [Aside]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

I had a Wife, but rest her Soul, she’s dead; and I have no Plague left now but an ungracious Nephew, perverted with ill Customs, Tantivy Opinions, and Court−Notions.

Tom Wilding

Cannot your pious Examples convert him? By Heaven, she’s fond of him! [Aside]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Alas, I have try’d all ways, fair and foul; nay, had settled t’other Day my whole Estate upon him, and just as I had sign’d the Writings, out comes me a damn’d Libel, call’d, A Warning to all good Christians against the City−Magistrates; and I doubt he had a Hand in Absalom and Achitophel, a Rogue. But some of our sober Party have claw’d him home, i’ faith, and given him Rhyme for his Reason.

Tom Wilding

Most visibly in Love! Oh, Sir, Nature, Laws, and Religion plead for so near a Kinsman.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Laws and Religion! Alas, my Lord, he deserves not the Name of a Patriot, who does not for the publick Good, defy all Laws and Religion.

Tom Wilding

Death, I must interrupt ’em [Aside] −− Sir, pray what Lady’s that. [Wilding salutes her]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

I beseech your Lordship know her, ’tis my Lady Galliard; the rest are all my Friends and Neighbours, true Protestants all −− Well, my Lord, how do you like my Method of doing the business of the Nation, and carrying on the Cause with Wine, Women, and so forth?

Tom Wilding

High Feeding and smart Drinking, gains more to the Party, than your smart Preaching.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Your Lordship has hit it right: a rare Man this!

Tom Wilding

But come, Sir, leave serious Affairs, and oblige these fair ones. [Addresses himself to Galliard, Sir Charles puts him by]


Enter Charlot disguised, Clacket, and Foppington

Charlot

Heavens, Clacket, yonder’s my False one, and that my lovely Rival. [Pointing to Wilding and Lady Galliard]

Enter Diana and Sensure mask’d, and Betty.

Diana

Dear Mrs. Sensure, this Favour has oblig’d me.

Mrs. Sensure

I hope you’ll not discover it to his Worship, Madam.

Tom Wilding

By her Mien, this shou’d be handsome – [Goes to Diana] Madam, I hope you have not made a Resolution to deny me the Honour of your Hand.

Diana

Ha, Wilding! Love can discover thee through all Disguise.

Tom Wilding

Hah, Diana! wou’d ’twere Felony to wear a Vizard. Gad, I’d rather meet it on the King’s Highway, with Stand and Deliver, than thus encounter it on the Face of an old Mistress; and the Cheat were more excusable −− But how – [Talks aside with her]

Sir Charles Meriwill

Nay, never frown nor chide: For thus do I intend to shew my Authority, till I have made thee only fit for me.

Tom Wilding

Is’t so, my precious Uncle? Are you so great a Devil in Hypocrisy? Thus had I been serv’d, had I brought him the right Woman. [Aside]

Diana

But do not think, dear Tommy, I wou’d have serv’d thee so; married thy Uncle, and have cozen’d thee of thy Birth−right −− But see, we’re observ’d. [Charlot listening behind him all this while]

Charlot

By all that’s good ’tis he! that Voice is his! [Aside] [He going from Diana turns upon Charlot, and looks]

Tom Wilding

Hah, what pretty Creature’s this, that has so much of Charlot in her Face? But sure she durst not venture; ’tis not her Dress nor Mien. Dear pretty Stranger, I must dance with you.

Charlot

Gued deed, and see ye shall, Sir, gen you please. Though I’s not dance, Sir, I’s tell ya that noo.

Tom Wilding

Nor I, so we’re well matcht. By Heaven, she’s wondrous like her.

Charlot

By th’ Mass not so kind, Sir: ‘Twere gued that ene of us shou’d dance to guid the other weel.

Tom Wilding

How young, how innocent and free she is! And wou’d you, fair one, be guided by me?

Charlot

In any thing that gued is.

Tom Wilding

I love you extremely, and wou’d teach you to love.

Charlot

Ah, wele aday! [Sighs and smiles]

Tom Wilding

A thing I know you do not understand.

Charlot

Gued faith, and ya’re i’th’ right, Sir; yet ’tis a thing I’s often hear ya gay men talk of.

Tom Wilding

Yes, and no doubt have been told those pretty Eyes inspired it.

Charlot

Gued deed, and so I have! Ya men make sa mickle ado about ens Eyes, ways me, I’s ene tir’d with sick−like Complements.

Tom Wilding

Ah, if you give us wounds, we must complain.

Charlot

Ye may ene keep out a harms way then.

Tom Wilding

Oh, we cannot; or if we cou’d, we wou’d not.

Charlot

Marry, and I’s have ene a Song tol that tune, Sir.

Tom Wilding

Dear Creature, let me beg it.

Charlot

Gued faith, ya shall not, Sir, I’s sing without entreaty.

SONG

Ah, Jenny, gen your Eyes do kill,
You’ll let me tell my Pain;
Gued Faith, I lov’d against my Will,
But wad not break my Chain.
I ence was call’d a bonny Lad,
Till that fair Face of yours
Betray’d the Freedom ence I had,
And ad my bleether howers.

 But noo ways me like Winter looks,
My gloomy showering Eyne,
And on the Banks of shaded Brooks
I pass my wearied time.
I call the Stream that gleedeth on,
To witness if it see,
On all the flowry Brink along,
A Swain so true as Iee.

Tom Wilding

This very Swain am I, so true and so forlorn, unless ye pity me. −− This is an excellency Charlot wants, at least I never heard her sing. [Aside]

Sir Anthony Meriwill

Why, Charles, where stands the Woman, Charles? [Foppington comes up to Charlot]

Tom Wilding

I must speak to Galliard, though all my Fortunes depend on the Discovery of my self. [Aside]

Sir Anthony Meriwill

Come, come, a cooling Glass about.

Tom Wilding

Dear Dresswell, entertain Charles Meriwill a little, whilst I speak to Galliard. [The Men go all to the Drinking-table]

By Heaven, I die, I languish for a Word! [Aside]
—Madam, I hope you have not made a Vow
To speak with none but that young Cavalier?
They say, the Freedom English Ladies use,
Is as their Beauty, great.

Lady Galliard

Sir, we are none of those of so nice and delicate a Virtue, as Conversation can corrupt; we live in a cold Climate.

Tom Wilding

And think you’re not so apt to be in Love,
As where the Sun shines oftner.
But you too much partake of the Inconstancy of this your fickle Climate. [Maliciously to her]
One day all Sun−shine, and th’ encourag’d Lover
Decks himself up in glittering Robes of Hope;
And in the midst of all their boasted Finery
Comes a dark Cloud across his Mistress’ Brow,
Dashes the Fool, and spoils the gaudy show.
[Lady Galliard observing him nearly]

Lady Galliard

Hah, do I not know that railing Tongue of yours?

Tom Wilding

‘Tis from your Guilt, not Judgment then.

I was resolv’d to be to night a Witness
Of that sworn Love you flatter’d me so often with.
By Heaven, I saw you playing with my Rival,
Sigh’d, and lookt Babies in his gloating Eyes.
When is the Assignation? When the Hours?
For he’s impatient as the raging Sea,
Loose as the Winds, and amorous as the Sun,
That kisses all the Beauties of the Spring.

Lady Galliard

I take him for a sober Person, Sir.

Tom Wilding

Have I been the Companion of his Riots

In all the leud course of our early Youth,
Where like unwearied Bees we gather’d Flowers?
But no kind Blossom could oblige our stay,
We rifled and were gone.

Lady Galliard

Your Virtues I perceive are pretty equal;
Only his Love’s the honester o’th’ two.

Tom Wilding

Honester! that is, he wou’d owe his good Fortune to the Parson of the Parish;
And I would be oblig’d to you alone.
He wou’d have a Licence to boast he lies with you,
And I wou’d do’t with Modesty and Silence:
For Virtue’s but a Name kept free from Scandal,
Which the most base of Women best preserve,
Since Jilting and Hypocrisy cheat the World best.
−− But we both love, and who shall blab the Secret? [In a soft tone]

Lady Galliard

Oh, why were all the Charms of speaking given
 to that false Tongue that makes no better use of ’em? [Aside]−− I’ll hear no more of your inchanting Reasons.

Tom Wilding

You must.

Lady Galliard

I will not.

Tom Wilding

Indeed you must.

Lady Galliard

By all the Powers above −−

Tom Wilding

By all the Powers of Love you’ll break your Oath, unless you swear this Night to let me see you.

Lady Galliard

This Night.

Tom Wilding

This very Night.

Lady Galliard

I’d die first −− At what Hour? [First turns away, then sighs and looks on him]

Tom Wilding

Oh, name it; and if I fail – [With joy]

Lady Galliard

I wou’d not for the World −−

Tom Wilding

That I shou’d fail!

Lady Galliard

Not name the guilty Hour.

Tom Wilding

Then I through eager haste shall come too soon,

And do your Honour wrong.

Lady Galliard

My Honour! Oh, that Word!

Tom Wilding

Which the Devil was in me for naming. [Aside] −− At Twelve.

Lady Galliard

My Women and my Servants then are up.

Tom Wilding

At One, or Two.

Lady Galliard

So late! ’twill be so quickly Day!

Tom Wilding

Ay, so it will:

That half our Business will be left unfinisht.

Lady Galliard

Hah, what do you mean? what Business?

Tom Wilding

A thousand tender things I have to say;
A thousand Vows of my eternal Love;
And now and then we’ll kiss and −−

Lady Galliard

Be extremely honest.

Tom Wilding

As you can wish.

Lady Galliard

Rather as I command: for should he know my wish, I were undone. [Aside]

Tom Wilding

The Sign −−

Lady Galliard

Oh, press me not −− yet you may come at Midnight under my Chamber−Window. [Sir Charles sees ’em so close, comes to ’em]

Sir Charles Meriwill

Hold, Sir, hold! Whilst I am listning to the Relation of your French Fortifications, Outworks, and Counterscarps, I perceive the Enemy in my Quarters −− My Lord, by your leave. [Puts him by, growing drunk]

Charlot

Persuade me not; I burst with Jealousy. [Wilding turns, sees Clacket]

Tom Wilding

Death and the Devil, Clacket! then ’tis Charlot, and I’m discover’d to her.

Charlot

Say, are you not a false dissembling thing? [To Wilding in anger]

Tom Wilding

What, my little Northern Lass translated into English!
This ’tis to practise Art in spite of Nature.
Alas, thy Vertue, Youth, and Innocence,
Were never made for Cunning,

I found ye out through all your forc’d disguise.

Charlot

Hah, did you know me then?

Tom Wilding

At the first glance, and found you knew me too,
And talkt to yonder Lady in revenge,


Whom my Uncle would have me marry. But to avoid all Discourses of that nature, I came to Night in this Disguise you see, to be conceal’d from her; that’s all.

Charlot

And is that all, on Honour? Is it, Dear?

Tom Wilding

What, no Belief, no Faith in villanous Women?

Charlot

Yes, when I see the Writings.

Tom Wilding

Go home, I die if you shou’d be discover’d:
And credit me, I’ll bring you all you ask.

Clacket, you and I must have an old Reckoning about this Night’s Jant of yours. [Aside to Clacket]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Well, my Lord, how do you like our English Beauties?

Tom Wilding

Extremely, Sir; and was pressing this young Lady to give us a Song. [Here is an Italian Song in two Parts]

Sir Timothy Treat−all

I never saw this Lady before: pray who may she be, Neighbour? [To Clacket]

Mrs. Clacket

A Niece of mine, newly come out of Scotland, Sir.

Sir Timothy Treat−all

Nay, then she dances by nature. Gentlemen and Ladies, please you to sit, here’s a young Neighbour of mine will honour us with a Dance. [They all sit; Charlot and Foppington dance] So, so; very well, very well. Gentlemen and Ladies, I am for Liberty of Conscience, and Moderation. There’s a Banquet waits the Ladies, and my Cellars are open to the Men; but for my self, I must retire; first waiting on your Lordship to shew you your Apartment, then leave you to cher entire: and to morrow, my Lord, you and I will settle the Nation, and will resolve on what return we will make to the noble Polanders.

[Exeunt all but Wilding, Dresswell [Sir Anthony and Laboir], and Foppington, Sir Charles leading out Lady Galliard]

Sir Anthony Meriwill

Well said, Charles, thou leav’st her not till she’s thy own, Boy −− And Philander was a jolly Swain, &c. [Exit singing]

Tom Wilding

All things succeed above my Wish, dear Frank;
Fortune is kind; and more, Galliard is so;
This night crowns all my Wishes.
Laboir, are all things ready for our purpose? [To his footman]

Laboir

Dark Lanthorns, Pistols, Habits and Vizards, Sir.

Foppington

I have provided Portmantles to carry off the Treasure.

Dresswell

I perceive you are resolv’d to make a thorowstitch Robbery on’t.

Foppington

Faith, if it lie in our way, Sir, we had as good venture a Caper under the Triple−Tree for one as well as t’other.

Tom Wilding

We must consider on’t. ‘Tis now just struck eleven; within this Hour is the dear Assignation with Galliard.

Dresswell

What, whether our Affairs be finish’d or not?

Tom Wilding

‘Tis but at next door; I shall return time enough for that trivial business.

Dresswell

A trivial business of some six thousand pound a year?

Tom Wilding

Trivial to a woman, Frank! no more, do you make as if you went to bed.—Laboir, do you feign to be drunk, and lie on the Hall-table; and when I give the signe, let me softly in.

Dresswell

Death, Sir, will you venture at such a time?

Tom Wilding

My Life and future Hope −− I am resolv’d.
Let Politicians plot, let Rogues go on
In the old beaten Path of Forty One;
Let City Knaves delight in Mutiny,
The Rabble bow to old Presbytery;
Let petty States be to confusion hurl’d,
Give me but Woman, I’ll despise the World. [Exeunt]