Part 16

_Mons._ Auh, wat will become of me! but have the consideration. Must I leave off all the Franch _beautés_, graces, and embellisments, bote of my person, and language? [_Exeunt_ HIPPOLITA, Mrs. CAUTION, _and_ PRUE, _laughing._

_Don._ I will have it so.

_Mons._ I am ruinne den, undonne. Have some consideration for me, for dere is not de least ribbon of my _garniture_ but is as dear to me as your daughter, _jarni!_

_Don._ Then, you do not deserve her; and for that reason I will be satisfied you love her better, or you shall not have her, for I am _positivo_.

_Mons._ Vill you break mine arte? Pray have de consideration for me.

_Don._ I say again, you shall be dressed before night from top to toe in the Spanish habit, or you shall never marry my daughter, look you.

_Mons._ If you will not have de consideration for me, have de consideration for your daughter; for she have de passionate _amour_ for me, and like me in dis habite bettre den in yours, da.

_Don._ What I have said I have said, and I am _un positivo_.

_Mons._ Will you not so mush as allow me one little French oate?

_Don._ No, you shall look like a Spaniard, but speak and swear like an Englishman, look you.

_Mons. Hélas! hélas!_ den I shall take my leave, _mort! tête! ventre! jarni! tête bleu! ventre bleu! ma foi!_ certes!

_Don._ [_Calls at the door._] Pedro, Sanchez, wait upon this _cavaliero_ into his chamber with those things I ordered you to take out of the trunks.--I would have you a little accustomed to your clothes before your wedding; for, if you comply with me, you shall marry my daughter to-morrow, look you.

_Mons._ Adieu then, dear pantaloon! dear belte! dear sword! dear peruke! and dear _chapeau retroussé_, and dear shoe, _jarni!_ adieu! adieu! adieu! _Hélas! hélas! hélas!_ will you have yet no pity?

_Don._ I am a Spanish _positivo_, look you.

_Mons._ And more cruel than de Spanish inquisitiono, to compel a man to a habit against his conscience; _hélas! hélas! hélas!_ [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ PRUE _with_ GERRARD.

_Prue._ Here's the dancing-master, shall I call my mistress, sir?

_Don._ Yes.--[_Exit_ PRUE.] O, you are as punctual as a Spaniard: I love your punctual men; nay, I think 'tis before your time something.

_Ger._ Nay, I am resolved your daughter, sir, shall lose no time by my fault.

_Don._ So, so, 'tis well.

_Ger._ I were a very unworthy man, if I should not be punctual with her, sir.

_Don._ You speak honestly, very honestly, friend; and I believe a very honest man, though a dancing-master.

_Ger._ I am very glad you think me so, sir.

_Don._ What, you are but a young man, are you married yet?

_Ger._ No, sir; but I hope I shall, sir, very suddenly, if things hit right.

_Don._ What, the old folks her friends are wary, and cannot agree with you so soon as the daughter can?

_Ger._ Yes, sir, the father hinders it a little at present; but the daughter, I hope, is resolved, and then we shall do well enough.

_Don._ What! you do not steal her, according to the laudable custom of some of your brother dancing-masters?

_Ger._ No, no, sir; steal her, sir! steal her! you are pleased to be merry, sir, ha! ha! ha!--[_Aside._] I cannot but laugh at that question.

_Don._ No, sir, methinks you are pleased to be merry, but you say the father does not consent?

_Ger._ Not yet, sir; but 'twill be no matter whether he does or no.

_Don._ Was she one of your scholars? if she were, 'tis a hundred to ten but you steal her.

_Ger._ [_Aside._] I shall not be able to hold laughing. [_Laughs._

_Don._ Nay, nay, I find by your laughing you steal her: she was your scholar; was she not?

_Ger._ Yes, sir, she was the first I ever had, and may be the last too; for she has a fortune (if I can get her) will keep me from teaching to dance any more.

_Don._ So, so, then she is your scholar still it seems, and she has a good portion; I'm glad on't; nay, I knew you stole her.

_Ger._ [_Aside._] My laughing may give him suspicions, yet I cannot hold. [_Laughs._

_Don._ What! you laugh, I warrant, to think how the young baggage and you will mump the poor old father! but if all her dependence for a fortune be upon the father, he may chance to mump you both and spoil the jest.

_Ger._ I hope it will not be in his power, sir, ha! ha! ha!--[_Aside._] I shall laugh too much anon.--[_To_ Don DIEGO.] Pray, sir, be pleased to call for your daughter, I am impatient till she comes, for time was never more precious with me, and with her too; it ought to be so, sure, since you say she is to be married to-morrow.

_Don._ She ought to bestir her, as you say, indeed. Wuh, daughter! daughter! Prue! Hippolita! come away, child, why do you stay so long? [_Calls at the door._

_Re-enter_ HIPPOLITA, PRUE, _and_ Mrs. CAUTION.

_Hip._ Your servant, master; indeed I am ashamed you have stayed for me.

_Ger._ O, good madam, 'tis my duty; I know you came as soon as you could.

_Hip._ I knew my father was with you, therefore I did not make altogether so much haste as I might; but if you had been alone, nothing should have kept me from you. I would not have been so rude as to have made you stay a minute for me, I warrant you.

_Don._ Come, fiddle faddle, what a deal of ceremony there is betwixt your dancing-master and you, _cuerno!_--

_Hip._ Lord, sir! I hope you'll allow me to show my respect to my master, for I have a great respect for my master.

_Ger._ And I am very proud of my scholar, and am a very great honourer of my scholar.

_Don._ Come, come, friend, about your business, and honour the king.--[_To_ Mrs. CAUTION.] Your dancing-masters and barbers are such finical, smooth-tongued, tattling fellows; and if you set 'em once a-talking, they'll ne'er a-done, no more than when you set 'em a-fiddling: indeed, all that deal with fiddles are given to impertinency.

_Mrs. Caut._ Well, well, this is an impertinent fellow, without being a dancing-master. He is no more a dancing-master than I am a maid.

_Don._ What! will you still be wiser than I? _voto!_--Come, come, about with my daughter, man.

_Prue._ So he would, I warrant you, if your worship would let him alone.

_Don._ How now, Mrs. Nimblechaps!

_Ger._ Well, though I have got a little canting at the dancing-school since I was here, yet I do all so bunglingly, he'll discover me. [_Aside to_ HIPPOLITA.

_Hip._ [_Aside._] Try.--[_Aloud._] Come take my hand, master.

_Mrs. Caut._ Look you, brother, the impudent harlotry gives him her hand.

_Don._ Can he dance with her without holding her by the hand?

_Hip._ Here, take my hand, master.

_Ger._ I wish it were for good and all. [_Aside to her._

_Hip._ You dancing-masters are always so hasty, so nimble.

_Don. Voto á St. Jago!_ not that I see; about with her, man.

_Ger._ Indeed, sir, I cannot about with her as I would do, unless you will please to go out a little, sir; for I see she is bashful still before you, sir.

_Don._ Hey, hey, more fooling yet! come, come, about, about with her.

_Hip._ Nay, indeed, father, I am ashamed, and cannot help it.

_Don._ But you shall help it, for I will not stir. Move her, I say.--Begin, hussy, move when he'll have you.

_Prue._ I cannot but laugh at that, ha! ha! ha! [_Aside._

_Ger._ [_Apart to_ HIPPOLITA.] Come, then, madam, since it must be so, let us try; but I shall discover all.--One, two, and coupee.

_Mrs. Caut._ Nay, d'ye see how he squeezes her hand, brother! O the lewd villain!

_Don._ Come, move, I say, and mind her not.

_Ger._ One, two, three, four, and turn round.

_Mrs. Caut._ D'ye see again? he took her by the bare arm.

_Don._ Come, move on, she's mad.

_Ger._ One, two, and a coupee.

_Don._ Come, one, two, and turn out your toes.

_Mrs. Caut._ There, there, he pinched her by the thigh: will you suffer it?

_Ger._ One, two, three, and fall back.

_Don._ Fall back, fall back, back; some of you are forward enough to back.

_Ger._ Back, madam.

_Don._ Fall back, when he bids you, hussy.

_Mrs. Caut._ How! how! fall back, fall back! marry, but she shall not fall back when he bids her.

_Don._ I say she shall.--Huswife, come.

_Ger._ She will, she will, I warrant you, sir, if you won't be angry with her.

_Mrs. Caut._ Do you know what he means by that now? You a Spaniard!

_Don._ How's that? I not a Spaniard! say such a word again--

_Ger._ Come forward, madam, three steps again.

_Mrs. Caut._ See, see, she squeezes his hand now: O the debauched harlotry!

_Don._ So, so, mind her not; she moves forward pretty well; but you must move as well backward as forward, or you'll never do anything to purpose.

_Mrs. Caut._ Do you know what you say, brother, yourself, now? are you at your beastliness before your young daughter?

_Prue._ Ha! ha! ha!

_Don._ How now, mistress, are you so merry?--Is this your staid maid as you call her, sister Impertinent?

_Ger._ I have not much to say to you, miss; but I shall not have an opportunity to do it, unless we can get your father out. [_Aside to_ HIPPOLITA.

_Don._ Come, about again with her.

_Mrs. Caut._ Look you there, she squeezes his hand hard again.

_Hip._ Indeed, and indeed, father, my aunt puts me quite out: I cannot dance while she looks on for my heart, she makes me ashamed and afraid together.

_Ger._ Indeed, if you would please to take her out, sir, I am sure I should make my scholar do better, than when you are present, sir. Pray, sir, be pleased for this time to take her away; for the next time, I hope I shall order it so, we shall trouble neither of you.

_Mrs. Caut._ No, no, brother, stir not, they have a mind to be left alone. Come, there's a beastly trick in't; he's no dancing-master, I tell you.

_Ger._ Damned jade! she'll discover us. [_Aside to_ HIPPOLITA.

_Don._ What, will you teach me? nay, then I will go out, and you shall go out too, look you.

_Mrs. Caut._ I will not go out, look you.

_Don._ Come, come, thou art a censorious wicked woman, and you shall disturb them no longer.

_Mrs. Caut._ What! will you bawd for your daughter?

_Don._ Ay, ay; come go out, out, out.

_Mrs. Caut._ I will not go out, I will not go out; my conscience will not suffer me, for I know by experience what will follow.

_Ger._ I warrant you, sir, we'll make good use of our time when you are gone.

_Mrs. Caut._ Do you hear him again? don't you know what he means? [_Exit_ Don DIEGO _thrusting_ Mrs. CAUTION _out._

_Hip._ 'Tis very well!--you are a fine gentleman to abuse my poor father so.

_Ger._ 'Tis but by your example, miss.

_Hip._ Well, I am his daughter, and may make the bolder with him, I hope.

_Ger._ And I am his son-in-law, that shall be; and therefore may claim my privilege too of making bold with him, I hope.

_Hip._ Methinks you should be contented in making bold with his daughter (for you have made very bold with her) sure.

_Ger._ I hope I shall make bolder with her yet.

_Hip._ I do not doubt your confidence, for you are a dancing-master.

_Ger._ Why, miss, I hope you would not have me a fine, senseless, whining, modest lover; for modesty in a man is as ill as the want of it in a woman.

_Hip._ I thank you for that, sir, now you have made bold with me indeed; but if I am such a confident piece, I am sure you made me so: if you had not had the confidence to come in at the window, I had not had the confidence to look upon a man: I am sure I could not look upon a man before.

_Ger._ But that I humbly conceive, sweet miss, was your father's fault, because you had not a man to look upon. But, dearest miss, I do not think you confident, you are only innocent; for that which would be called confidence, nay impudence, in a woman of years, is called innocency in one of your age; and the more impudent you appear, the more innocent you are thought.

_Hip._ Say you so? has youth such privileges? I do not wonder then, most women seem impudent, since it is to be thought younger than they are, it seems. But indeed, master, you are as great an encourager of impudence, I see, as if you were a dancing-master in good earnest.

_Ger._ Yes, yes, a young thing may do anything; may leap out of the window and go away with her dancing master, if she please.

_Hip._ So, so, the use follows the doctrine very suddenly.

_Ger._ Well, dearest, pray let us make the use we should of it; lest your father should make too bold with us, and come in before we would have him.

_Hip._ Indeed, old relations are apt to take that ill-bred freedom of pressing into young company at unseasonable hours.

_Ger._ Come, dear miss, let me tell you how I have designed matters; for in talking of anything else we lose time and opportunity. People abroad indeed say, the English women are the worst in the world in using an opportunity, they love tittle-tattle and ceremony.

_Hip._ 'Tis because, I warrant, opportunities are not so scarce here as abroad, they have more here than they can use; but let people abroad say what they will of English women, because they do not know 'em, but what say people at home?

_Ger._ Pretty innocent! ha! ha! ha!--Well, I say you will not make use of your opportunity.

_Hip._ I say, you have no reason to say so yet.

_Ger._ Well then, anon at nine of the clock at night I'll try you: for I have already bespoke a parson, and have taken up the three back-rooms of the tavern, which front upon the gallery-window, that nobody may see us escape; and I have appointed (precisely betwixt eight and nine of the clock when it is dark) a coach and six to wait at the tavern-door for us.

_Hip._ A coach and six! a coach and six, do you say? nay, then I see you are resolved to carry me away; for a coach and six, though there were not a man but the coachman with it, would carry away any young girl of my age in England:--a coach and six!

_Ger._ Then you will be sure to be ready to go with me?

_Hip._ What young woman of the town could ever say no to a coach and six, unless it were going into the country?--A coach and six! 'tis not in the power of fourteen years old to resist it.

_Ger._ You will be sure to be ready?

_Hip._ You are sure 'tis a coach and six?

_Ger._ I warrant you, miss.

_Hip._ I warrant you then they'll carry us merrily away:--a coach and six!

_Ger._ But have you charmed your cousin the monsieur (as you said you would) that he in the mean time say nothing to prevent us?

_Hip._ I warrant you.

_Re-enter_ Don DIEGO; Mrs. CAUTION _pressing in after him._

_Mrs. Caut._ I will come in.

_Don._ Well, I hope by this time you have given her full instructions; you have told her what and how to do, you have done all.

_Ger._ We have just done indeed, sir.

_Hip._ Ay, sir, we have just done, sir.

_Mrs. Caut._ And I fear just undone, sir.

_Ger._ D'ye hear that damned witch? [_Aside to_ HIPPOLITA.

_Don._ Come, leave your censorious prating; thou hast been a false, right woman thyself in thy youth, I warrant you.

_Mrs. Caut._ I right! I right! I scorn your words, I'd have you to know, and 'tis well known. I right! no, 'tis your dainty minx, that Jillflirt, your daughter here, that is right; do you see how her handkerchief is ruffled, and what a heat she's in?

_Don._ She has been dancing.

_Mrs. Caut._ Ay, ay, Adam and Eve's dance, or the beginning of the world; d'ye see how she pants?

_Don._ She has not been used to motion.

_Mrs. Caut._ Motion! motion! motion d'ye call it? no indeed, I kept her from motion till now: motion with a vengeance!

_Don._ You put the poor bashful girl to the blush, you see, hold your peace.

_Mrs. Caut._ 'Tis her guilt, not her modesty, marry!

_Don._ Come, come, mind her not, child.--Come, master, let me see her dance now the whole dance roundly together; come, sing to her.

_Ger._ Faith; we shall be discovered after all; you know I cannot sing a note, miss. [_Aside to_ HIPPOLITA.

_Don._ Come, come, man.

_Hip._ Indeed, father, my master's in haste now; pray let it alone till anon at night, when, you say, he is to come again, and then you shall see me dance it to the violin; pray stay till then, father.

_Don._ I will not be put off so; come, begin.

_Hip._ Pray, father.

_Don._ Come, sing to her; come, begin.

_Ger._ Pray, sir, excuse me till anon, I am in some haste.

_Don._ I say, begin, I will not excuse you: come, take her by the hand, and about with her.

_Mrs. Caut._ I say, he shall not take her by the hand, he shall touch her no more; while I am here, there shall be no more squeezing and tickling her palm. Good Mr. Dancing-master, stand off. [_Thrusts_ GERRARD _away._

_Don._ Get you out, Mrs. Impertinence.--[_To_ GERRARD.] Take her by the hand, I say.

_Mrs. Caut._ Stand off, I say. He shall not touch her, he has touched her too much already.

_Don._ If patience were not a Spanish virtue, I would lay it aside now: I say, let 'em dance.

_Mrs. Caut._ I say, they shall not dance.

_Hip._ Pray, father, since you see my aunt's obstinacy, let us alone till anon, when you may keep her out.

_Don._ Well then, friend, do not fail to come.

_Hip._ Nay, if he fail me at last--

_Don._ Be sure you come, for she's to be married to-morrow:--do you know it?

_Ger._ Yes, yes, sir.--Sweet scholar, your humble servant, till night; and think in the mean time of the instructions I have given you, that you may be the readier when I come.

_Don._ Ay, girl, be sure you do,--and do you be sure to come.

_Mrs. Caut._ You need not be so concerned, he'll be sure to come I warrant you; but if I could help it, he should never set foot again in the house.

_Don._ You would frighten the poor dancing-master from the house,--but be sure you come for all her.

_Ger._ Yes, sir.--[_Aside._] But this jade will pay me when I am gone.

_Mrs. Caut._ Hold, hold, sir, I must let you out, and I wish I could keep you out. He a dancing-master! he's a chouse, a cheat, a mere cheat, and that you'll find.

_Don._ I find any man a cheat! I cheated by any man! I scorn your words.--I that have so much Spanish care, circumspection, and prudence, cheated by a man! Do you think I, who have been in Spain, look you, and have kept up my daughter a twelve month, for fear of being cheated of her, look you? I cheated of her!

_Mrs. Caut._ Well, say no more. [_Exeunt_ Don DIEGO, HIPPOLITA, Mrs. CAUTION, _and_ PRUE.

_Ger._ Well, old Formality, if you had not kept up your daughter, I am sure I had never cheated you of her.

The wary fool is by his care betrayed, As cuckolds by their jealousy are made.

[_Exit._

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.--_A Room in_ Don DIEGO'S _House._

_Enter_ Monsieur de PARIS _without a peruke, with a Spanish hat, a Spanish doublet, stockings, and shoes, but in pantaloons, a waist-belt, and a Spanish dagger in it, and a cravat about his neck._--HIPPOLITA _and_ PRUE _behind laughing._

_Mons._ To see wat a fool love do make of one, _jarni!_ It do metamorphose de brave man in de beast, de sot, de animal.

_Hip._ Ha! ha! ha!

_Mons._ Nay, you may laugh, 'tis ver vell, I am become as ridicule for you as can be, _morbleu!_ I have deform myself into a ugly Spaniard.

_Hip._ Why, do you call this disguising yourself like a Spaniard, while you wear pantaloons still, and the cravat?

_Mons._ But is here not the double doublet, and the Spanish dagger _aussi_?

_Hip._ But 'tis as long as the French sword, and worn like it. But where's your Spanish beard, the thing of most consequence?

_Mons. Jarni!_ do you tink beards are as easy to be had as in the playhouses? non; but if here be no the ugly long Spanish beard, here are, I am certain, the ugly long Spanish ear.

_Hip._ That's very true, ha! ha! ha!

_Mons._ Auh de ingrate, dat de woman is! wen we poor men are your gallants, you laugh at us yourselves, and wen we are your husband, you make all the world laugh at us, _jarni!_--Love, dam love, it makes the man more ridicule, than poverty, poetry, or a new title of honour, _jarni!_

_Enter_ Don DIEGO _and_ Mrs. CAUTION.

_Don._ What! at your _jarnis_ still? _voto!_

_Mons._ Why, _oncle_, you are at your _votos_ still.

_Don._ Nay, I'll allow you to be at your _votos_ too, but not to make the incongruous match of Spanish doublet, and French pantaloons. [_Holding his hat before his pantaloons._

_Mons._ Nay, pray, dear _oncle_, let me unite France and Spain; 'tis the mode of France now, _jarni, voto!_

_Don._ Well, I see I must pronounce: I told you, if you were not dressed in the Spanish habit to-night, you should not marry my daughter to-morrow, look you.

_Mons._ Well! am I not _habillé_ in de Spanish habit? my doublet, ear and hat, leg and feet, are Spanish, that dey are.

_Don._ I told you I was a Spanish _positivo, voto!_

_Mons._ Will you not spare my pantaloon! begar, I will give you one little finger to excuse my pantaloon, da--

_Don._ I have said, look you.

_Mons._ Auh, _cher_ pantaloons! Speak for my pantaloons, cousin. My poor pantaloons are as dear to me as de scarf to de countree capitane, or de new-made officer: therefore have de compassion for my pantaloons, Don Diego, _mon oncle. Hélas! hélas! hélas!_ [_Kneels._

_Don._ I have said, look you, your dress must be Spanish, and your language English: I am _un positivo_.

_Mons._ And must speak base good English too! Ah! _la pitié! hélas!_

_Don._ It must be done; and I will see this great change ere it be dark, _voto!_--Your time is not long; look to't, look you.

_Mons. Hélas! hélas! hélas!_ dat _Espagne_ should conquer _la France_ in England! _Hélas! hélas! hélas!_ [_Exit._

_Don._ You see what pains I take to make him the more agreeable to you, daughter.

_Hip._ But indeed, and indeed, father, you wash the blackamoor white, in endeavouring to make a Spaniard of a monsieur, nay, an English monsieur too; consider that, father: for when once they have taken the French _plie_ (as they call it) they are never to be made so much as Englishmen again, I have heard say.