Kitabı oku: «The Constant Couple; Or, A Trip to the Jubilee: A Comedy, in Five Acts», sayfa 3

Parly. No, madam: he met Alderman Smuggler at Charing-Cross, who has promised to wait on you himself immediately.

Lady L. 'Tis odd that this old rogue should pretend to love me, and at the same time cheat me of my money.

Parly. 'Tis well, madam, if he don't cheat you of your estate; for you say the writings are in his hands.

Lady L. But what satisfaction can I get of him? – Oh! here he comes!

Enter Smuggler

Mr. Alderman, your servant; have you brought me any money, sir?

Smug. 'Faith, madam, trading is very dead; what with paying the taxes, losses at sea abroad, and maintaining our wives at home, the bank is reduced very low; money is very scarce.

Lady L. Come, come, sir; these evasions won't serve your turn: I must have money, sir – I hope you don't design to cheat me?

Smug. Cheat you, madam! have a care what you say: I'm an alderman, madam – Cheat you, madam! I have been an honest citizen these five-and-thirty years.

Lady L. An honest citizen! Bear witness, Parly – I shall trap him in more lies presently. Come, sir, though I am a woman, I can take a remedy.

Smug. What remedy, madam? You'll go to law, will ye? I can maintain a suit of law, be it right or wrong, these forty years – thanks to the honest practice of the courts.

Lady L. Sir, I'll blast your reputation, and so ruin your credit.

Smug. Blast my reputation! he! he! he! Why, I'm a religious man, madam; I have been very instrumental in the reformation of manners. Ruin my credit! Ah, poor woman! There is but one way, madam – you have a sweet leering eye.

Lady L. You instrumental in the reformation? – How?

Smug. I whipp'd all the pau-pau women out of the parish – Ah, that leering eye! Ah, that lip! that lip!

Lady L. Here's a religious rogue for you, now! – As I hope to be saved, I have a good mind to beat the old monster.

Smug. Madam, I have brought you about two hundred and fifty guineas (a great deal of money, as times go) and —

Lady L. Come, give 'em me.

Smug. Ah, that hand, that hand! that pretty, soft, white – I have brought it; but the condition of the obligation is such, that whereas that leering eye, that pouting lip, that pretty soft hand, that – you understand me; you understand; I'm sure you do, you little rogue —

Lady L. Here's a villain, now, so covetous, that he would bribe me with my own money. I'll be revenged. [Aside.] – Upon my word, Mr. Alderman, you make me blush, – what d'ye mean, pray?

Smug. See here, madam. [Pulls his Purse out.] – Buss and guinea! buss and guinea! buss and guinea!

Lady L. Well, Mr. Alderman, you have such pretty winning ways, that I will – ha! ha! ha!

Smug. Will you, indeed, he! he! he! my little cocket? And when, and where, and how?

Lady L. 'Twill be a difficult point, sir, to secure both our honours: you must therefore be disguised, Mr. Alderman.

Smug. Pshaw! no matter; I am an old fornicator; I'm not half so religious as I seem to be. You little rogue, why I'm disguised as I am; our sanctity is all outside, all hypocrisy.

Lady L. No man is seen to come into this house after dark; you must therefore sneak in, when 'tis dark, in woman's clothes.

Smug. With all my heart – I have a suit on purpose, my little cocket; I love to be disguised; 'ecod, I make a very handsome woman, 'ecod, I do.

Enter Servant, who whispers Lady Lurewell

Lady L. Oh, Mr. Alderman, shall I beg you to walk into the next room? Here are some strangers coming up.

Smug. Buss and guinea first – Ah, my little cocket! [Exit.

Enter Sir H. Wildair

Sir H. My life, my soul, my all that Heaven can give! —

Lady L. Death's life with thee, without thee death to live. Welcome, my dear Sir Harry – I see you got my directions.

Sir H. Directions! in the most charming manner, thou dear Machiavel of intrigue.

Lady L. Still brisk and airy, I find, Sir Harry.

Sir H. The sight of you, madam, exalts my air, and makes joy lighten in my face.

Lady L. I have a thousand questions to ask you, Sir Harry. Why did you leave France so soon?

Sir H. Because, madam, there is no existing where you are not.

Lady L. Oh, monsieur, je vous suis fort obligée– But, where's the court now?

Sir H. At Marli, madam.

Lady L. And where my Count La Valier?

Sir H. His body's in the church of Nôtre Dame; I don't know where his soul is.

Lady L. What disease did he die of?

Sir H. A duel, madam; I was his doctor.

Lady L. How d'ye mean?

Sir H. As most doctors do; I kill'd him.

Lady L. En cavalier, my dear knight-errant – Well, and how, and how: what intrigues, what gallantries are carrying on in the beau monde?

Sir H. I should ask you that question, madam, since your ladyship makes the beau-monde wherever you come.

Lady L. Ah, Sir Harry, I've been almost ruined, pestered to death here, by the incessant attacks of a mighty colonel; he has besieged me.

Sir H. I hope your ladyship did not surrender, though.

Lady L. No, no; but was forced to capitulate. But since you are come to raise the siege, we'll dance, and sing, and laugh —

Sir H. And love, and kiss —Montrez moi votre chambre?

Lady L. Attends, attends, un peu– I remember, Sir Harry, you promised me, in Paris, never to ask that impertinent question again.

Sir H. Pshaw, madam! that was above two months ago: besides, madam, treaties made in France are never kept.

Lady L. Would you marry me, Sir Harry?

Sir H. Oh! I do detest marriage. – But I will marry you.

Lady L. Your word, sir, is not to be relied on: if a gentleman will forfeit his honour in dealings of business, we may reasonably suspect his fidelity in an amour.

Sir H. My honour in dealings of business! Why, madam, I never had any business in all my life.

Lady L. Yes, Sir Harry, I have heard a very odd story, and am sorry that a gentleman of your figure should undergo the scandal.

Sir H. Out with it, madam.

Lady L. Why, the merchant, sir, that transmitted your bills of exchange to you in France, complains of some indirect and dishonourable dealings.

Sir H. Who, old Smuggler?

Lady L. Ay, ay, you know him, I find.

Sir H. I have some reason, I think; why, the rogue has cheated me of above five hundred pounds within these three years.

Lady L. 'Tis your business then to acquit yourself publicly; for he spreads the scandal every where.

Sir H. Acquit myself publicly! I'll drive instantly into the city, and cane the old villain: he shall run the gauntlet round the Royal Exchange.

Lady L. Why, he is in the house now, sir.

Sir H. What, in this house?

Lady L. Ay, in the next room.

Sir H. Then, sirrah, lend me your cudgel.

Lady L. Sir Harry, you won't raise a disturbance in my house?

Sir H. Disturbance, madam! no, no, I'll beat him with the temper of a philosopher. Here, Mrs. Parly, show me the gentleman.

[Exit with Parly.

Lady L. Now shall I get the old monster well beaten, and Sir Harry pestered next term with bloodsheds, batteries, costs, and damages, solicitors and attorneys; and if they don't tease him out of his good humour, I'll never plot again. [Exit.

SCENE V

Another Room in the same House

Enter Smuggler

Smug. Oh, this damned tide-waiter! A ship and cargo worth five thousand pounds! Why, 'tis richly worth five hundred perjuries.

Enter Sir H. Wildair

Sir H. Dear Mr. Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant.

Smug. My best friend, Sir Harry, you're welcome to England.

Sir H. I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions I am gladder to meet, dear, dear Mr. Alderman.

[Bowing very low.

Smug. Oh, lord, sir, you travellers have the most obliging ways with you!

Sir H. There is a business, Mr. Alderman, fallen out, which you may oblige me infinitely by – I am very sorry that I am forced to be troublesome; but necessity, Mr. Alderman —

Smug. Ay, sir, as you say, necessity – But, upon my word, sir, I am very short of money at present; but —

Sir H. That's not the matter, sir; I'm above an obligation that way: but the business is, I'm reduced to an indispensable necessity of being obliged to you for a beating – Here, take this cudgel.

Smug. A beating, Sir Harry! ha! ha! ha! I beat a knight baronet! an alderman turn cudgel-player! Ha! ha! ha!

Sir H. Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or I cudgel you; take your choice.

Smug. Pshaw! pshaw! you jest.

Sir H. Nay, 'tis sure as fate – So, Alderman, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity.

[Strikes him.

Smug. Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir! – What d'ye mean?

Sir H. Nothing at all; I'm but in jest, sir.

Smug. Oh, I can take any thing in jest! but a man might imagine, by the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest.

Sir H. Not in the least, sir; [Strikes him.] not in the least, indeed, sir.

Smug. Pray, good sir, no more of your jests; for they are the bluntest jests that ever I knew.

Sir H. [Strikes.] I heartily beg your pardon, with all my heart, sir.

Smug. Pardon, sir! Well, sir, that is satisfaction enough from a gentleman. But, seriously, now, if you pass any more of your jests upon me, I shall grow angry.

Sir H. I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more. [Strikes him.

Smug. Oh, lord, sir, you'll break my bones! Are you mad, sir? Murder, felony, manslaughter!

[Sir Harry knocks him down.

Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to it, upon my honour, sir: nothing can be more averse to my inclinations, than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend, the Alderman.

[Striking him all this while: Smuggler tumbles over and over.

Enter Lady Lurewell

Lady L. Oh, lord! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old man.

Smug. Oh, dear madam, I was beaten in jest, till I am murdered in good earnest.

Lady L. Oh! you barbarous man! – Now the devil take you, Sir Harry, for not beating him harder – Well, my dear, you shall come at night, and I'll make you amends.

[Here Sir Harry takes Snuff.

Smug. Madam, I will have amends before I leave the place – Sir, how durst you use me thus!

Sir H. Sir?

Smug. Sir, I say that I will have satisfaction.

Sir H. With all my heart.

[Throws Snuff into his Eyes.

Smug. Oh, murder! blindness! fire! Oh, madam, madam, get me some water. Water! fire! fire! water!

[Exit with Lady Lurewell.

Sir H. How pleasant is resenting an injury without passion! 'Tis the beauty of revenge.

 
No spleen, no trouble, shall my time destroy:
Life's but a span, I'll ev'ry inch enjoy.
 

[Exit.

ACT THE THIRD

SCENE I

The Street

Enter Colonel Standard and Vizard

Colonel S. I bring him word where she lodged? I the civilest rival in the world? 'Tis impossible.

Vizard. I shall urge it no farther, sir. I only thought, sir, that my character in the world might add authority to my words, without so many repetitions.

Colonel S. Pardon me, dear Vizard. Our belief struggles hard, before it can be brought to yield to the disadvantage of what we love. But what said Sir Harry?

Vizard. He pitied the poor credulous colonel, laughed heartily, flew away with all the raptures of a bridegroom, repeating these lines:

 
A mistress ne'er can pall her lover's joys,
Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys.
 

Colonel S. A mistress ne'er can pall! By all my wrongs he whores her, and I am made their property. – Vengeance – Vizard, you must carry a note for me to Sir Harry.

Vizard. What, a challenge? I hope you don't design to fight?

Colonel S. What, wear the livery of my king, and pocket an affront? 'Twere an abuse to his sacred Majesty: a soldier's sword, Vizard, should start of itself, to redress its master's wrong.

Vizard. However, sir, I think it not proper for me to carry any such message between friends.

Colonel S. I have ne'er a servant here; what shall I do?

Vizard. There's Tom Errand, the porter, that plies at the Blue Posts, one who knows Sir Harry and his haunts very well; you may send a note by him.

Colonel S. Here, you, friend.

Vizard. I have now some business, and must take my leave; I would advise you, nevertheless, against this affair.

Colonel S. No whispering now, nor telling of friends, to prevent us. He, that disappoints a man of an honourable revenge, may love him foolishly like a wife, but never value him as a friend.

Vizard. Nay, the devil take him, that parts you, say I. [Exit.

Enter Tom Errand

Tom. Did your honour call porter?

Colonel S. Is your name Tom Errand?

Tom. People call me so, an't like your worship.

Colonel S. D'ye know Sir Harry Wildair?

Tom. Ay, very well, sir; he's one of my best masters; many a round half crown have I had of his worship; he's newly come home from France, sir.

Colonel S. Go to the next coffee-house, and wait for me. – Oh, woman, woman, how blessed is man, when favoured by your smiles, and how accursed when all those smiles are found but wanton baits to sooth us to destruction. [Exeunt.

Enter Sir H. Wildair, and Clincher Senior, following

Clinch. sen. Sir, sir, sir, having some business of importance to communicate to you, I would beg your attention to a trifling affair, that I would impart to your understanding.

Sir H. What is your trifling business of importance, pray, sweet sir?

Clinch. sen. Pray, sir, are the roads deep between this and Paris?

Sir H. Why that question, sir?

Clinch. sen. Because I design to go to the jubilee, sir. I understand that you are a traveller, sir; there is an air of travel in the tie of your cravat, sir: there is indeed, sir – I suppose, sir, you bought this lace in Flanders.

Sir H. No, sir, this lace was made in Norway.

Clinch. sen. Norway, sir?

Sir H. Yes, sir, of the shavings of deal boards.

Clinch. sen. That's very strange now, 'faith – Lace made of the shavings of deal boards! 'Egad, sir, you travellers see very strange things abroad, very incredible things abroad, indeed. Well, I'll have a cravat of the very same lace before I come home.

Sir H. But, sir, what preparations have you made for your journey?

Clinch. sen. A case of pocket-pistols for the bravos, and a swimming-girdle.

Sir H. Why these, sir?

Clinch. sen. Oh, lord, sir, I'll tell you – Suppose us in Rome now; away goes I to some ball – for I'll be a mighty beau. Then, as I said, I go to some ball, or some bear-baiting – 'tis all one, you know – then comes a fine Italian bona roba, and plucks me by the sleeve: Signior Angle, Signior Angle – She's a very fine lady, observe that – Signior Angle, says she – Signiora, says I, and trips after her to the corner of a street, suppose it Russel Street, here, or any other street: then, you know, I must invite her to the tavern; I can do no less – There up comes her bravo; the Italian grows saucy, and I give him an English dowse on the face: I can box, sir, box tightly; I was a 'prentice, sir – But then, sir, he whips out his stiletto, and I whips out my bull-dog – slaps him through, trips down stairs, turns the corner of Russel Street again, and whips me into the ambassador's train, and there I'm safe as a beau behind the scenes.

Sir H. Is your pistol charged, sir?

Clinch. sen. Only a brace of bullets, that's all, sir.

Sir H. 'Tis a very fine pistol, truly; pray let me see it.

Clinch. sen. With all my heart, sir.

Sir H. Harkye, Mr. Jubilee, can you digest a brace of bullets?

Clinch. sen. Oh, by no means in the world, sir.

Sir H. I'll try the strength of your stomach, however. Sir, you're a dead man.

[Presenting the Pistol to his Breast.

Clinch. sen. Consider, dear sir, I am going to the Jubilee: when I come home again, I am a dead man at your service.

Sir H. Oh, very well, sir; but take heed you are not so choleric for the future.

Clinch. sen. Choleric, sir! Oons, I design to shoot seven Italians in a week, sir.

Sir H. Sir, you won't have provocation.

Clinch. sen. Provocation, sir! Zouns, sir, I'll kill any man for treading upon my corns: and there will be a devilish throng of people there: they say that all the princes of Italy will be there.

Sir H. And all the fops and fiddlers in Europe – But the use of your swimming girdle, pray sir?

Clinch. sen. Oh lord, sir, that's easy. Suppose the ship cast away; now, whilst, other foolish people are busy at their prayers, I whip on my swimming girdle, clap a month's provision in my pocket, and sails me away, like an egg in a duck's belly. Well, sir, you must pardon me now, I'm going to see my mistress. [Exit.

Sir H. This fellow's an accomplished ass before he goes abroad. Well, this Angelica has got into my heart, and I cannot get her out of my head. I must pay her t'other visit. [Exit.

SCENE II

Lady Darling's House

Enter Angelica, Lady Darling, Clincher Junior, and Dicky

Lady D. This is my daughter, cousin.

Dicky. Now sir, remember your three scrapes.

Clinch. jun. [Saluting Angelica.] One, two, three, your humble servant. Was not that right, Dicky?

Dicky. Ay, 'faith, sir; but why don't you speak to her?

Clinch. jun. I beg your pardon, Dicky; I know my distance. Would you have me to speak to a lady at the first sight?

Dicky. Ay sir, by all means; the first aim is the surest.

Clinch. jun. Now for a good jest, to make her laugh heartily – By Jupiter Ammon, I'll give her a kiss.

[Goes towards her.

Enter Wildair, interposing

Sir H. 'Tis all to no purpose; I told you so before; your pitiful five guineas will never do. You may go; I'll outbid you.

Clinch. jun. What the devil! the madman's here again.

Lady D. Bless me, cousin, what d'ye mean? Affront a gentleman of his quality in my house?

Clinch. jun. Quality! – Why, madam, I don't know what you mean by your madmen, and your beaux, and your quality – they're all alike, I believe.

Lady D. Pray, sir, walk with me into the next room.

[Exit Lady Darling, leading Clincher, Dicky following.

Ang. Sir, if your conversation be no more agreeable than 'twas the last time, I would advise you to make your visit as short as you can.

Sir H. The offences of my last visit, madam, bore their punishment in the commission; and have made me as uneasy till I receive pardon, as your ladyship can be till I sue for it.

Ang. Sir Harry, I did not well understand the offence, and must therefore proportion it to the greatness of your apology; if you would, therefore, have me think it light, take no great pains in an excuse.

Sir H. How sweet must the lips be that guard that tongue! Then, madam, no more of past offences; let us prepare for joys to come. Let this seal my pardon.

[Kisses her Hand.

Ang. Hold, sir: one question, Sir Harry, and pray answer plainly – D'ye love me?

Sir H. Love you! Does fire ascend? Do hypocrites dissemble? Usurers love gold, or great men flattery? Doubt these, then question that I love.

Ang. This shows your gallantry, sir, but not your love.

Sir H. View your own charms, madam, then judge my passion.

Ang. If your words be real, 'tis in your power to raise an equal flame in me.

Sir H. Nay, then, I seize —

Ang. Hold, sir; 'tis also possible to make me detest and scorn you worse than the most profligate of your deceiving sex.

Sir H. Ha! a very odd turn this. I hope, madam, you only affect anger, because you know your frowns are becoming.

Ang. Sir Harry, you being the best judge of your own designs, can best understand whether my anger should be real or dissembled; think what strict modesty should bear, then judge of my resentment.

Sir H. Strict modesty should bear! Why, 'faith, madam, I believe, the strictest modesty may bear fifty guineas, and I don't believe 'twill bear one farthing more.

Ang. What d'ye mean, sir?

Sir H. Nay, madam, what do you mean? If you go to that. I think now, fifty guineas is a fine offer for your strict modesty, as you call it.

Ang. I'm afraid you're mad, sir.

Sir H. Why, madam, you're enough to make any man mad. 'Sdeath, are you not a —

Ang. What, sir?

Sir H. Why, a lady of – strict modesty, if you will have it so.

Ang. I shall never hereafter trust common report, which represented you, sir, a man of honour, wit, and breeding; for I find you very deficient in them all three. [Exit.

Sir H. Now I find, that the strict pretences, which the ladies of pleasure make to strict modesty, is the reason why those of quality are ashamed to wear it.

Enter Vizard

Vizard. Ah! Sir Harry, have I caught you? Well, and what success?

Sir H. Success! 'Tis a shame for you young fellows in town here, to let the wenches grow so saucy. I offered her fifty guineas, and she was in her airs presently, and flew away in a huff. I could have had a brace of countesses in Paris for half the money, and je vous remercie into the bargain.

Vizard. Gone in her airs, say you! and did not you follow her?

Sir H. Whither should I follow her?

Vizard. Into her bedchamber, man; she went on purpose. You a man of gallantry, and not understand that a lady's best pleased when she puts on her airs, as you call it!

Sir H. She talked to me of strict modesty, and stuff.

Vizard. Certainly. Most women magnify their modesty, for the same reason that cowards boast their courage – because they have least on't. Come, come, Sir Harry, when you make your next assault, encourage your spirits with brisk Burgundy: if you succeed, 'tis well; if not, you have a fair excuse for your rudeness. I'll go in, and make your peace for what's past. Oh, I had almost forgot – Colonel Standard wants to speak with you about some business.

Sir H. I'll wait upon him presently; d'ye know where he may be found?

Vizard. In the piazza of Covent Garden, about an hour hence, I promised to see him: and there you may meet him – to have your throat cut. [Aside.] I'll go in and intercede for you.