Part 8
_Ran._ Don't speak so loud, you'll break poor Lucy's heart. Poor creature, she cannot leave you; and, rather than leave her, you would leave writing of lampoons or sonnets--almost.
_Dap._ Come, let her go, ungrateful baggage!--But now you talk of sonnets, I am no living wit if her love has not cost me two thousand couplets at least.
_Ran._ But what would you give, now, for a new satire against women, ready made?--'Twould be as convenient to buy satires against women ready made, as it is to buy cravats ready tied.
_Dap._ Or as--
_Ran._ Hey, come away, come away, Mr., or as--[_Exeunt._
SCENE III.--_A Room in_ Mrs. CROSSBITE'S _House._
_Enter_ Mrs. JOYNER _and_ GRIPE.
_Gripe._ Peace, plenty, and pastime be within these walls!
_Mrs. Joyn._ 'Tis a small house, you see, and mean furniture; for no gallants are suffered to come hither. She might have had ere now as good lodgings as any in town; her Mortlake[42] hangings, great glasses, cabinets, china, embroidered beds, Persia carpets, gold-plate, and the like, if she would have put herself forward. But your worship may please to make 'em remove to a place fit to receive one of your worship's quality; for this is a little scandalous, in truly.
_Gripe._ No, no; I like it well enough:--I am not dainty. Besides, privacy, privacy, Mrs. Joyner! I love privacy in opposition to the wicked, who hate it. [_Looks about._
_Mrs. Joyn._ What do you look for, sir?
_Gripe._ Walls have ears; but, besides, I look for a private place to retire to, in time of need. Oh! here's one convenient. [_Turns up a hanging, and discovers the slender provisions of the family._]
_Mrs. Joyn._ But you see, poor innocent souls, to what use they put it;--not to hide gallants.
_Gripe._ Temperance is the nurse of chastity.
_Mrs. Joyn._ But your worship may please to mend their fare; and, when you come, may make them entertain you better than, you see, they do themselves.
_Gripe._ No, I am not dainty, as I told you. I abominate entertainments;--no entertainments, pray, Mrs. Joyner.
_Mrs. Joyn._ No! [_Aside._
_Gripe._ There can be no entertainment to me more luscious and savoury than communion with that little gentlewoman.--Will you call her out? I fast till I see her.
_Mrs. Joyn._ But, in truly, your worship, we should have brought a bottle or two of Rhenish and some Naples biscuit, to have entertained the young gentlewoman. 'Tis the mode for lovers to treat their mistresses.
_Gripe._ Modes! I tell you, Mrs. Joyner, I hate modes and forms.
_Mrs. Joyn._ You must send for something to entertain her with.
_Gripe._ Again entertaining!--we will be to each other a feast.
_Mrs. Joyn._ I shall be ashamed, in truly, your worship.--Besides, the young gentlewoman will despise you.
_Gripe._ I shall content her, I warrant you; leave it to me.
_Mrs. Joyn._ [_Aside._] I am sure you will not content me, if you will not content her; 'tis as impossible for a man to love and be a miser, as to love and be wise, as they say.
_Gripe._ While you talk of treats, you starve my eyes; I long to see the fair one; fetch her hither.
_Mrs. Joyn._ I am ashamed she should find me so abominable a liar; I have so praised you to her, and, above all your virtues, your liberality; which is so great a virtue, that it often excuses youth, beauty, courage, wit, or anything.
_Gripe._ Pish, pish! 'tis the virtue of fools; every fool can have it.
_Mrs. Joyn._ And will your worship want it, then? I told her--
_Gripe._ Why would you tell her anything of me? you know I am a modest man. But come, if you will have me as extravagant as the wicked, take that and fetch us a treat, as you call it.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Upon my life a groat! what will this purchase?
_Gripe._ Two black pots of ale and a cake, at the cellar.--Come, the wine has arsenic in't.
_Mrs. Joyn._ [_Aside._] Well, I am mistaken, and my hopes are abused: I never knew any man so mortified a miser, that he would deny his lechery anything; I must be even with thee then another way. [_Exit._
_Gripe._ These useful old women are more exorbitant and craving in their desires than the young ones in theirs. These prodigals in white perukes spoil 'em both; and that's the reason, when the squires come under my clutches, I make 'em pay for their folly and mine, and 'tis but conscience:--oh, here comes the fair one at last!
_Re-enter_ Mrs. JOYNER _leading in_ LUCY, _who hangs backwards as she enters._
_Lucy._ Oh Lord, there's a man, godmother!
_Mrs. Joyn._ Come in, child, thou art so bashful--
_Lucy._ My mother is from home too, I dare not.
_Mrs. Joyn._ If she were here, she'd teach you better manners.
_Lucy._ I'm afraid she'd be angry.
_Mrs. Joyn._ To see you so much an ass.--Come along, I say.
_Gripe._ Nay, speak to her gently; if you won't, I will.
_Lucy._ Thank you, sir.
_Gripe._ Pretty innocent! there is, I see, one left of her age; what hap have I! Sweet little gentlewoman, come sit down by me.
_Lucy._ I am better bred, I hope, sir.
_Gripe._ You must sit down by me.
_Lucy._ I'd rather stand, if you please.
_Gripe._ To please me, you must sit, sweetest.
_Lucy._ Not before my godmother, sure.
_Gripe._ Wonderment of innocence!
_Mrs. Joyn._ A poor bashful girl, sir: I'm sorry she is not better taught.
_Gripe._ I am glad she is not taught; I'll teach her myself.
_Lucy._ Are you a dancing-master then, sir? But if I should be dull, and not move as you would have me, you would not beat me, sir, I hope?
_Gripe._ Beat thee, honeysuckle! I'll use thee thus, and thus, and thus. [_Kisses her._] Ah, Mrs. Joyner, prithee go fetch our treat now.
_Mrs. Joyn._ A treat of a groat! I will not wag.
_Gripe._ Why don't you go? Here, take more money, and fetch what you will; take here, half-a-crown.
_Mrs. Joyn._ What will half-a-crown do?
_Gripe._ Take a crown then, an angel, a piece;[43]--begone!
_Mrs. Joyn._ A treat only will not serve my turn; I must buy the poor wretch there some toys.
_Gripe._ What toys? what? speak quickly.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Pendants, necklaces, fans, ribbons, points, laces, stockings, gloves--
_Gripe._ Hold, hold! before it comes to a gown.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Well remembered, sir; indeed she wants a gown, for she has but that one to her back. For your own sake you should give her a new gown, for variety of dresses rouses desire, and makes an old mistress seem every day a new one.
_Gripe._ For that reason she shall have no new gown; for I am naturally constant, and as I am still the same, I love she should be still the same. But here, take half a piece for the other things.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Half a piece!--
_Gripe._ Prithee, begone!--take t'other piece then--two pieces--three pieces--five! here, 'tis all I have.
_Mrs. Joyn._ I must have the broad-seal ring too, or l stir not.
_Gripe._ Insatiable woman! will you have that too! Prithee spare me that, 'twas my grandfather's.
_Mrs. Joyn._ That's false, he had ne'er a coat.--So! now I go; this is but a violent fit, and will not hold. [_Aside._
_Lucy._ Oh! whither do you go, godmother? will you leave me alone?
_Mrs. Joyn._ The gentleman will not hurt you; you may venture yourself with him alone.
_Lucy._ I think I may, godmother.--[_Exit_ Mrs. JOYNER.] What! will you lock me in, sir? don't lock me in, sir. [GRIPE, _fumbling at the door, locks it._
_Gripe._ 'Tis a private lesson, I must teach you, fair.
_Lucy._ I don't see your fiddle, sir; where is your little kit?
_Gripe._ I'll show it thee presently, sweetest.--[_Sets a chair against the door._]--Necessity, mother of invention!--Come, my dearest. [_Takes her in his arms._
_Lucy._ What do you mean, sir? don't hurt me, sir, will you--Oh! oh! you will kill me! Murder! murder!--Oh! oh!--help! help! oh!
_The door is broken open; enter_ Mrs. CROSSBITE, _and her_ Landlord, _and his_ 'Prentice, _in aprons._
_Mrs. Cros._ What, murder my daughter, villain!
_Lucy._ I wish he had murdered me.--Oh! oh!
_Mrs. Cros._ What has he done?
_Lucy._ Why would you go out, and leave me alone? unfortunate woman that I am!
_Gripe._ How now, what will this end in? [_Aside._
_Mrs. Cros._ Who brought him in?
_Lucy._ That witch, that treacherous false woman, my godmother, who has betrayed me, sold me to his lust.--Oh! oh!--
_Mrs. Cros._ Have you ravished my daughter, then, you old goat? ravished my daughter!--ravished my daughter! speak, villain.
_Gripe._ By yea and by nay, no such matter.
_Mrs. Cros._ A canting rogue, too! Take notice, landlord, he has ravished my daughter, you see her all in tears and distraction; and see there the wicked engine of the filthy execution.--[_Pointing to the chair._]--Jeremy, call up the neighbours, and the constable,--False villain! thou shalt die for it.
_Gripe._ Hold! hold!--[_Aside._]--Nay, I am caught.
_Mrs. Cros._ Go, go, make haste--
_Lucy._ Oh! oh!--
_Mrs. Cros._ Poor wretch!--Go quickly.
_Gripe._ Hold! hold!--Thou young spawn of the old serpent! wicked, as I thought thee innocent! wilt thou say I would have ravished thee?
_Lucy._ I will swear you did ravish me.
_Gripe._ I thought so, treacherous Eve!--then I am gone, I must shift as well as I can.
_Lucy._ Oh! oh!--
_Mrs. Cros._ Will none of you call up the neighbours, and the authority of the alley?
_Gripe._ Hold, I'll give you twenty mark[44] among you to let me go.
_Mrs. Cros._ Villain! nothing shall buy thy life.
_Land._ But stay, Mrs. Crossbite, let me talk with you.
_Lucy._ Oh! oh!--
_Land._ Come, sir, I am your friend:--in a word, I have appeased her, and she shall be contented with a little sum.
_Gripe._ What is it? what is it?
_Land._ But five hundred pounds.
_Gripe._ But five hundred pounds!--hang me then, hang me rather.
_Land._ You will say I have been your friend.
_Pren._ The constable and neighbours are a-coming.
_Gripe._ How, how; will you not take a hundred? pray use conscience in your ways. [_Kneels to_ Mrs. CROSSBITE.
_Mrs. Cros._ I scorn your money! I will not take a thousand.
_Gripe._ [_Aside._] My enemies are many, and I shall be a scandal to the faithful, as a laughing-stock to the wicked.--[_Aloud._] Go, prepare your engines for my persecution; I'll give you the best security I can.
_Land._ The instruments are drawing in the other room, if you please to go thither.
_Mrs. Cros._ Indeed, now I consider, a portion will do my daughter more good than his death. That would but publish her shame; money will cover it--_probatum est_, as they say. Let me tell you, sir, 'tis a charitable thing to give a young maid a portion. [_Exeunt._
SCENE IV.--LYDIA'S _Lodging._
_Enter_ LYDIA _and_ Lady FLIPPANT, _attended by_ LEONORE.
_Lyd._ 'Tis as hard for a woman to conceal her indignation from her apostate lover, as to conceal her love from her faithful servant.
_L. Flip._ Or almost as hard as it is for the prating fellows now-a-days to conceal the favours of obliging ladies.
_Lyd._ If Ranger should come up, (I saw him just now in the street,) the discovery of my anger to him now would be as mean as the discovery of my love to him before.
_L. Flip._ Though I did so mean a thing as to love a fellow, I would not do so mean a thing as to confess it, certainly, by my trouble to part with him. If I confessed love, it should be before they left me.
_Lyd._ So you would deserve to be left, before you were. But could you ever do so mean a thing as to confess love to any?
_L. Flip._ Yes; but I never did so mean a thing as really to love any.
_Lyd._ You had once a husband.
_L. Flip._ Fy! madam, do you think me so ill bred as to love a husband?
_Lyd._ You had a widow's heart, before you were a widow, I see.
_L. Flip._ I should rather make an adventure of my honour with a gallant for a gown, a new coach, a necklace, than clap my husband's cheeks for them, or sit in his lap. I should be as ashamed to be caught in such a posture with a husband, as a brisk well-bred spark of the town would be to be caught on his knees at prayers--unless to his mistress.
_Enter_ RANGER _and_ DAPPERWIT.
_Lyd._ Mr. Ranger, 'twas obligingly done of you.
_Ran._ Indeed, cousin, I had kept my promise with you last night, but this gentleman knows--
_Lyd._ You mistake me; but you shall not lessen any favour you do to me. You are going to excuse your not coming to me last night, when I take it as a particular obligation, that though you threatened me with a visit, upon consideration you were so civil as not to trouble me.
_Dap._ This is an unlucky morning with me! here's my eternal persecution, the widow Flippant. [_Aside._
_L. Flip._ What, Mr. Dapperwit! [DAPPERWIT _retires to the back of the stage, followed by_ LADY FLIPPANT.
_Ran._ Indeed, cousin, besides my business, another cause I did not wait on you was, my apprehension you were gone to the Park, notwithstanding your promise to the contrary.
_Lyd._ Therefore, you went to the Park to visit me there, notwithstanding your promise to the contrary?
_Ran._ Who, I at the Park! when I had promised to wait upon you at your lodging! But were you at the Park, madam?
_Lyd._ Who, I at the Park! when I had promised to wait for you at home! I was no more at the Park than you were. Were you at the Park?
_Ran._ The Park had been a dismal desert to me, notwithstanding all the good company in it, if I had wanted yours.
_Lyd._ [_Aside._] Because it has been the constant endeavour of men to keep women ignorant, they think us so; but 'tis that increases our inquisitiveness, and makes us know them ignorant as false. He is as impudent a dissembler as the widow Flippant, who is making her importunate addresses in vain, for aught I see.
[Lady FLIPPANT _comes forward, driving_ DAPPERWIT _from one side of the stage to the other._
_L. Flip._ Dear Mr. Dapperwit! merciful Mr. Dapperwit!
_Dap._ Unmerciful Lady Flippant!
_L. Flip._ Will you be satisfied?
_Dap._ Won't you be satisfied?
_L. Flip._ That a wit should be jealous; that a wit should be jealous! there's never a brisk young fellow in the town, though no wit, Heaven knows, but thinks too well of himself, to think ill of his wife or mistress. Now, that a wit should lessen his opinion of himself;--for shame!
_Dap._ I promised to bring you off, but I find it enough to shift for myself--[_Softly, apart to_ RANGER.
_Lyd._ What! out of breath, madam!
_L. Flip._ I have been defending our cause, madam; I have beat him out of the pit. I do so mumble these prating, censorious fellows they call wits, when I meet with them.
_Dap._ Her ladyship, indeed, is the only thing in petticoats I dread. 'Twas well for me there was company in the room; for I dare no more venture myself with her alone, than a cully that has been bit dares venture himself in a tavern with an old rook.
_L. Flip._ I am the revenger of our sex, certainly.
_Dap._ And the most insatiable one I ever knew, madam; I dare not stand your fury longer.--Mr. Ranger, I will go before and make a new appointment with your friends that expect you at dinner at the French-house; 'tis fit business still wait on love.
_Ran._ Do so--but now I think on't, Sir Thomas goes out of town this afternoon, and I shall not see him here again these three months.
_Lyd._ Nay, pray take him with you, sir.
_L. Flip._ No, sir, you shall not take the gentleman from his mistress.--[_Aside to_ DAPPERWIT.] Do not go yet, sweet Mr. Dapperwit.
_Lyd._ Take him with you, sir; I suppose his business may be there to borrow or win money, and I ought not to be his hindrance: for when he has none, he has his desperate designs upon that little I have;--for want of money makes as devout lovers as Christians.
_Dap._ I hope, madam, he offers you no less security than his liberty.
_Lyd._ His liberty is as poor a pawn to take up money on as honour. He is like the desperate bankrupts of this age, who, if they can get people's fortunes into their hands, care not though they spend them in jail all their lives.
_L. Flip._ And the poor crediting ladies, when they have parted with their money, must be contented with a pitiful composition, or starve, for all them.
_Ran._ But widows are commonly so wise as to be sure their men are solvable before they trust 'em.
_L. Flip._ Can you blame 'em! I declare I will trust no man. Pray, do not take it ill, gentlemen: quacks in their bills, and poets in the titles of their plays, do not more disappoint us, than gallants with their promises; but I trust none.
_Dap._ Nay, she's a very Jew in that particular. To my knowledge, she'll know her man, over and over again, before she trust him.
_Ran._ Well, my dearest cousin, good-morrow. When I stay from you so long again, blame me to purpose, and be extremely angry; for nothing can make me amends for the loss of your company, but your reprehension of my absence. I'll take such a chiding as kindly as Russian wives do beating.
_Lyd._ If you were my husband, I could not take your absence more kindly than I do.
_Ran._ And if you were my wife, I would trust you as much out of my sight as I could, to show my opinion of your virtue.
_L. Flip._ A well-bred gentleman, I warrant.--Will you go then, cruel Mr. Dapperwit? [_Exeunt_ RANGER _and_ DAPPERWIT, _followed by_ Lady FLIPPANT.
_Lyd._ Have I not dissembled well, Leonore?
_Leo._ But, madam, to what purpose? why do you not put him to his trial, and see what he can say for himself?
_Lyd._ I am afraid lest my proofs, and his guilt, should make him desperate, and so contemn that pardon which he could not hope for.
_Leo._ 'Tis unjust to condemn him before you hear him.
_Lyd._ I will reprieve him till I have more evidence.
_Leo._ How will you get it?
_Lyd._ I will write him a letter in Christina's name, desiring to meet him; when I shall soon discover if his love to her be of a longer standing than since last night; and if it be not, I will not longer trust him with the vanity to think she gave him the occasion to follow her home from the Park; so will at once disabuse him and myself.
_Leo._ What care the jealous take in making sure of ills which they, but in imagination, cannot undergo!
_Lyd._
Misfortunes are least dreadful when most near: 'Tis less to undergo the ill, than fear. [_Exeunt._
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.--_A Room in_ GRIPE'S _House._
_Enter_ Mrs. JOYNER _and_ GRIPE, _the latter in a blue gown and nightcap._
_Mrs. Joyn._ What, not well, your worship! This it is, you will be laying out yourself beyond your strength. You have taken a surfeit of the little gentlewoman, I find. Indeed you should not have been so immoderate in your embraces; your worship is something in years, in truly.
_Gripe._ Graceless, perfidious woman! what makest thou here? art thou not afraid to be used like an informer, since thou hast made me pay thee for betraying me?
_Mrs. Joyn._ Betray your worship! what do you mean? I an informer! I scorn your words!
_Gripe._ Woman, I say again, thou art as treacherous as an informer, and more unreasonable; for he lets us have something for our money before he disturb us.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Your money, I'm sure, was laid out faithfully; and I went away because I would not disturb you.
_Gripe._ I had not grudged you the money I gave you:--but the five hundred pounds! the five hundred pounds! Inconscionable, false woman, the five hundred pounds!--You cheated, trepanned, robbed me, of the five hundred pounds!
_Mrs. Joyn._ I cheat you! I rob you!--well, remember what you say, you shall answer it before Mr. Doublecap and the best of--
_Gripe._ Oh, impudent woman, speak softly!
_Mrs. Joyn._ I will not speak softly; for innocence is loud as well as barefaced. Is this your return, after you have made me a mere drudge to your filthy lusts?
_Gripe._ Speak softly; my sister, daughter, and servants, will hear.
_Mrs. Joyn._ I would have witnesses, to take notice that you blast my good name, which was as white as a tulip, and as sweet as the head of your cane, before you wrought me to the carrying on the work of your fleshly carnal seekings.
_Gripe._ Softly! softly! they are coming in.
_Enter_ Lady FLIPPANT _and_ Mrs. MARTHA.
_L. Flip._ What's the matter, brother?
_Gripe._ Nothing, nothing, sister, only the godly woman is fallen into a fit of zeal against the enormous transgressions of the age. Go! go! you do not love to hear vanity reproved; pray begone!
_Mrs. Joyn._ Pray stay, madam, that you may know--
_Gripe._ [_Aside to_ Mrs. JOYNER.] Hold! hold! here are five guineas for thee,--pray say nothing.--[_Aloud._] Sister, pray begone, I say.--[_Exeunt_ Lady FLIPPANT _and_ Mrs. MARTHA.] Would you prejudice your own reputation to injure mine?
_Mrs. Joyn._ Would you prejudice your own soul to wrong my repute, in truly? [_Pretends to weep._
_Gripe._ Pray have me in excuse. Indeed, I thought you had a share of the five hundred pounds, because you took away my seal-ring; which they made me send, together with a note to my cash-keeper for five hundred pounds. Besides, I thought none but you knew it was my wonted token to send for money by.
_Mrs. Joyn._ 'Tis unlucky I should forget it, and leave it on the table!--But oh the harlotry! did she make that use of it then? 'twas no wonder you did not stay till I came back.
_Gripe._ I stayed till the money released me.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Have they the money, then? five hundred pounds!
_Gripe._ Too certain.
_Mrs. Joyn._ They told me not a word of it; and have you no way to retrieve it?
_Gripe._ Not any.
_Mrs. Joyn._ [_Aside._] I am glad of it.--[_Aloud._] Is there no law but against saints?
_Gripe._ I will not for five hundred pounds publish my transgression myself, lest I should be thought to glory in't: though, I must confess, 'twould tempt a man to conform to public praying and sinning, since 'tis so chargeable to pray and sin in private.
_Mrs. Joyn._ But are you resolved to give off a loser?
_Gripe._ How shall I help it?
_Mrs. Joyn._ Nay, I'll see you shall have what the young jade has, for your money; I'll make 'em use some conscience, however.--Take a man's money for nothing!
_Gripe._ Thou sayest honestly, indeed. And shall I have my pennyworths out of the little gentlewoman for all this?
_Mrs. Joyn._ I'll be engaged body for body for her, and you shall take the forfeiture on me else.
_Gripe._ No, no, I'll rather take your word, Mrs. Joyner.
_Mrs. Joyn._ Go in and dress yourself smug, and leave the rest to me.
_Gripe._ No man breathing would give-off a loser, as she says. [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.--_Another Room in the same._
Sir SIMON ADDLEPLOT _discovered sitting at a desk writing as a_ Clerk, Lady FLIPPANT _jogging him._