MRS. SQUEEZUM. [Sola.] Since you are sure of going to the devil, honest spouse, I’ll take care to equip you with a pair of horns, that you may be as like one another as possible. This dear wild fellow must be mine, and shall be mine: I like him so well, that if he had even ravished me, on my conscience I should have forgiven him.
SCENE XI
Mr. Worthy’s.
WORTHY, POLITIC.
WORTHY. Upon my word, Mr. Politic, I am heartily sorry for this occasion of renewing our acquaintance. I can imagine the tenderness of a parent, though I never was one.
POLITIC. Indeed, neighbour Worthy, you cannot imagine half the troubles, without having undergone them. Matrimony baulks our expectations every way; and our children as seldom prove comforts to us as our wives. I had but two — whereof one was hanged long ago — and the other I suppose may be in a fair way by this.
WORTHY. In what manner did she escape from you?
POLITIC. She had taken leave of me to retire to rest, not half an hour before I heard of her departure. I impute it all to the wicked instructions of an imp of the devil called a chambermaid, who is the companion of her flight.
WORTHY. But do you know of no lover?
POLITIC. Let me see — hey! — there hath been a fellow in a red coat, with whom she hath conversed for some time in spite of my teeth.
WORTHY. Depend on it, he is the occasion of your loss. I can grant you a warrant against him, if you know his name, though I fear you are too late.
POLITIC. NO. sir, I am not too late; my daughter is an heiress, and you know the punishment for stealing an heiress. If I could hang the rascal, it would be some satisfaction.
WORTHY. That will be impossible, without her consent; and truly if she be married, I would advise you to follow the example of that emperor who, when he discovered something worse than a marriage between one of his subjects and his daughter, chose rather to let him enjoy her as his own than punish him.
POLITIC. Pray where did that emperor reign?
WORTHY. I have almost forgotten, but I think it was one of the Greek emperors, or one of the Turks.
POLITIC. Bring me no example from the Turks, good Mr. Worthy, I find no such affinity in our interests. Sir, I dread and abhor the Turks. I wish we do not feel them before we are aware.
WORTHY. But, sir —
POLITIC. But me no buts — what can be the reason of all this warlike preparation, which all our newspapers have informed us of? Yes, and the same newspapers a hundred times in the same words. Is the design against Persia? Is the design against Germany? Is the design against Italy? — Suppose we should see Turkish galleys in the channel? We may feel them, yes, we may feel them in the midst of our security. Troy was taken in its sleep, and so may we.
WORTHY. Sure, sir, you are asleep, or in a dream —
POLITIC. Yes, yes, these things are called idle dreams — the justest apprehensions may be styled dreams — but let me tell you, sir, men betray their own ignorance, often, in attacking that of other men.
WORTHY. But what is all this to your daughter?
POLITIC. Never tell me of my daughter, my country is dearer to me than a thousand daughters; should the Turks come among us, what would become of our daughters then? and our sons, and our wives, and our estates, and our house?, and our religion, and our liberty? — When a Turkish aga should command our nobility, and janizaries make grandfathers of lords, where should we look for Britain then?
WORTHY. Truly, where I may look for Mr. Politic now, in the clouds.
POLITIC. Give me leave, sir, only to let you a little into the present state of Turkey.
WORTHY. I must beg to be excused, sir; if I can be of any service to you, in relation to your daughter, you may command my attention: I may probably defend you from our own countrymen, but truly from the Turks I cannot.
POLITIC. I am glad to hear you have some apprehension of them, as well as myself — That you are not so stupidly bespotted, as I meet with some people at the coffee-house; but perhaps you are not enough apprised of the danger. Give me leave only to show you how it is possible for the Grand Signior to find an ingress into Europe. — Suppose, sir, this spot I stand on to be Turkey — then here is Hungary — very well — here is France, and here is England — granted — then we will suppose he had possession of Hungary — what then remains but to conquer France, before we find him at our own coast. — But, sir, this is not all the danger, now I will show you how he can come by sea to us.
WORTHY. Dear sir, refer that to some other time; you have sufficiently satisfied me, I assure you.
POLITIC. It is almost time to go to the coffee-house — so, dear Mr. Worthy, I am your most obedient servant.
WORTHY. Mr. Politic, your very humble servant.
SCENE XII.
WORTHY. [SOLUS.] I recollect the dawnings of this political humour to have appeared when we were at the Bath together; but it has risen finely in these ten years. What an enthusiasm must it have arrived to, when it could make him forget the loss of his only daughter! The greatest part of mankind labour under one delirium or other: and Don Quixote differed from the rest, not in madness, but the species of it. The covetous, the prodigal, the superstitious, the libertine, and the coffee-house politician, are all Quixotes in their several ways.
That man alone from madness free, we find, Who, by no wild unruly passion blind, To reason gives the conduct of his mind.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
The Street
HILARET, CLORIS, meeting.
HILARET. Dear Cloris.
CLORIS. Dear madam, is it you? you altogether?
HILARET. Ay, ay, altogether, thank Heavens! I had like to have lost something, but all’s safe, I assure you.
CLORIS. All! madam, I wish it were.
HILARET. What, don’t you believe me?
CLORIS. I wish you could not me, or I myself. Poor Captain Constant —
HILARET. What of him?
CLORIS. Oh! madam!
HILARET. Speak quickly, or kill me, which you please —
CLORIS. — Is taken up for a rape.
HILARET. HOW!
CLORIS. It is too true, his own servant told me.
HILARET. His servant belied him, and so do you — Show me where he is; if he be in a dungeon, I’ll find him out.
CLORIS. Very generous, indeed, madam! A king should sooner visit a prisoner for treason than I a lover for a rape.
HILARET. It would be unpardonable in me to entertain so flagrant a belief, at the first hearing, against a man who hath given me such substantial proofs of his constancy: besides, an affair of my own makes me the more doubtful of the truth of this; but, if there appear any proof of such a fact, I will drive him for ever from my thoughts.
CLORIS. Yes, madam, Justice Squeezum will take care to have him driven another way.
HILARET. Justice Squeezum! Let me hug you for that information. Now, I can almost swear he is innocent: I have such an adventure to surprise you with; but let me not lose a moment — come, show me the way.
CLORIS. Poor creature! she knows the way to her destruction too well — but it would be impertinence in a servant to put her out of it. [Aside,.
SCENE II
The Constable’s House.
CONSTANT [Alone.] I begin to be of that philosopher’s opinion, who said, that whoever will entirely consult his own happiness must be little concerned about the happiness of others. Good nature is Quixotism, and every Princess Micomicona will lead her deliverer into a cage. What had I to do to interpose? What harm did the misfortunes of an unknown woman bring me, that I should hazard my own happiness and reputation on her account? — But sure, to swear a rape against me for having rescued her from a ravisher is an unparalleled piece of ingratitude.
SCENE III.
Constant and Mrs. Staff.
MRS. STAFF. Will your honour please to drink a dram, or some ‘rack punch?
CONSTANT. Dear madam, do not trouble me; I can drink nothing.
; MRS. STAFF. Truly sir, but I can. Not trouble you! I had never such a customer here before. You a captain charged with rape! I should sooner take you for some poor attorney, charged with forgery and perjury; or a travelling parson, with stealing a gown and cassock.
CONSTANT. Drink what you will, and I’ll pay what you please.
MRS. STAFF. Thank your honour! your honour will not be offended, I hope — we stand at a great rent: and truly, since this gin act, trade hath been so dull, that I have often wished my husband would live by the highway himself, instead of taking highwaymen.
CONSTANT. You are not the only wife who would give her husband this advice, I dare swear. Nay, were men all so uxorious to take it, Tyburn would have as much business as Doctors’ Commons.
MRS. STAFF. I wish it had more; for we must stand and fall by one another; no business there, no business here; and truly, captain, ‘tis with sorrow I say it, where we have one felon now, we had ten a year or two ago — I have not seen one prisoner brought in for a rape this fortnight, except your honour. I hope your handsel will be lucky.
SCENE IV.
CONSTANT, STAFF, MRS. STAFF.
STAFF. Captain, your servant; I suppose you will be glad of company — here is a very civil gentleman, I assure you.
MRS. STAFF. More gentlemen! this is rare news indeed.
CONSTANT. I had rather be let alone.
STAFF. I have but this one prison-room, Captain; besides, I assure you, this is no common fellow, but a very fine gentleman, a captain too — and as merry a one —
CONSTANT. What is the cause of his misfortune?
STAFF. A rape, Captain, a rape — no dishonourable offence — I would not have brought any scoundrels into your honour’s company; but rape and murder no gentleman need be ashamed of; and this is an honest brother ravisher — I have ravished women myself formerly: but a wife blunts a man’s edge. When once you are married you will leave off ravishing, I warrant you — to be bound in wedlock is as good a security against rapes, as to be bound over to the peace is against murder.
MRS. STAFF. My husband will have his jest, I hope your honour will pardon him.
STAFF. But here is the gentleman.
SCENE V.
CONSTANT, RAMBLE, STAFF, MRS. STAFF.
CONSTANT. Prodigious!
RAMBLE. Dear Constant!
CONSTANT. What in the name of wonder hath brought you to England?
RAMBLE. What in the devil’s name hath brought thee to the Constable’s?
CONSTANT. Only a rape, sir; no dishonourable offence, as
MR. Constable hath it.
RAMBLE. You jest.
STAFF. No, sir, upon my word, the Captain is in earnest.
RAMBLE. Why, I should sooner have suspected ermine or lawn-sleeves. But I see gravity and hypocrisy are inseparable. Well, give me thy hand, brother, for our fortunes agree exactly.
STAFF. And will agree in the end, I don’t question. This is not the first time of their meeting together on this account; a couple of old whore-masters, I warrant them. [Aside.
MRS. STAFF. Will your honours please to drink any punch, noble captains? it will keep up your spirits.
STAFF. Don’t force the gentlemen, wife, to drink whether they will or no. — I wish you well off this affair — in the meantime, whatever my house affords is at your service — and let me assure you, the more you drink, the less you will lament your misfortune.
RAMBLE. Spoken like a true philosopher.
SCENE VI.
CONSTANT, RAMBLE.
RAMBLE. But, Dear Billy, I hope thou hast not really committed, hey?
CONSTANT. What I heartily repent of, I assure you. I rescued a woman in the street, for which she was so kind to swear a rape against me; but it gives me no uneasiness equal to the pleasure I enjoy in seeing you.
RAMBLE. Ever kind and good natured!
CONSTANT. Yet I wish our meeting had been on another occasion; for the freedom of your life makes me suspect the consequence of your confinement may be heavier than mine.
RAMBLE. I can’t tell what the consequence may be, nor shall I trouble myself about it: but I assure thee, no sucking babe can be more innocent. If our eases differ in any thing, it is in this, that my woman hath not sworn.
CONSTANT. This pleases me indeed! But, pray, how came you to leave the Indies, where I thought you had been settled for life?
RAMBLE. Why, on the same account that I went thither, that I now am here, by which I live, and for which I live, a woman.
CONSTANT. A woman!
RAMBLE. Ay, a fine, young, rich woman! a widow with fourscore thousand pounds in her pocket — There’s a North star to steer by!
CONSTANT. What is her name?
RAMBLE. Her name — her name is Ramble.
CONSTANT. What, married?
RAMBLE. Ay, sir; soon after you left the Indies, honest
MR. Ingot left the world, and me the heir to his wife with all her effects.
CONSTANT. I wish you joy, dear Jack; this thy good fortune hath so filled me with delight, that I have no room for my own sorrows.
RAMBLE. But I have not unfolded half yet.
SOTMORE. [Without.] Let two quarts of rum be made into punch, let it be hot — hot as hell.
RAMBLE. D’ye hear, we are in a fine condition, ‘faith!
SCENE VII.
CONSTANT, RAMBLE, SOTMORE, STAFF.
SOTMORE. Here they are here are a brace of desponding whore-masters for you — Ramble, what, nothing to say in praise of the women! Mark Anthony made a fine bargain, hey, when he gave the world for a woman? ‘Sdeath, if he had been alive now, I’d have waged six gallons of claret I had seen him hanged for a rape — as I shall very suddenly my two worthy friends.
RAMBLE. Hark’ee, Sotmore, if you say any thing against the women, we’ll cut your throat, and toss justice in a murder into the bargain.
SOTMORE. Not speak against women! you shall as soon compel me not to drink: you shall sew up my lips, if you do either. — Here, you, let the punch be gotten ready.
STAFF. It shall, an’t please your honour. (This gentleman is a rare customer to a house; I wish he would commit a rape too.) — [Aside.
SCENE VIII.
CONSTANT, RAMBLE, SOTMORE.
CONSTANT. You must not rail against the ladies, Sotmore, before Ramble; for he is a married man.
RAMBLE. And what is better, my wife is at the bottom of the sea.
SOTMORE. And what is worse, all her effects are at the bottom of the sea with her.
CONSTANT. How!
RAMBLE. Faith! Sotmore hath spoken truth for once. Notwithstanding my pleasantry, the lady and her fortune are both gone together; she went to the other world fourscore thousand strong; and, if there be any such thing there, I don’t question but she is married again by this time.
SOTMORE. You would not take my advice. I have cautioned thee never to trust any thing on the same bottom with a woman. I would not ensure a ship that had a woman on board for double the price. — The sins of one woman are enough to draw down a judgment on a fleet.
RAMBLE. Here’s a fellow, who, like a prude, makes sin a handle to his abuse. — Art thou not ashamed to mention sin — who art a cargo of iniquity? “Why wilt thou fill thy venomed mouth with that of others, when thou hast such stores of thy own?
CONSTANT. What occasioned your separating?
RAMBLE. A storm, and my ill stars. I left the ship wherein she was to dine with the captain of one of our convoy, when, a sudden violent storm arising, I lost sight of her ship, and from that day have never seen or heard of her.
SOTMORE. Nor ever will — I heartily hope. Though as for the innocent chests, those I wish delivered out of the deep. But the sea knows its own good: it will be sure to keep the money, though possibly it may refund the woman; for a woman will swim like a cork, and they are both of the same value; nay, the latter is the more valuable, as it preserves our wine, which women often spoil.
CONSTANT. Why, Sotmore, wine is the touchstone of a
ll merit with thee, as gold is to a stock-jobber; and thou wouldst as soon sell thy soul for a bottle, as he for a guinea.
SOTMORE. Wine, sir, is as apt a comparison to every thing that is good, as woman is to every thing that is bad.
CONSTANT. Fie, Sotmore! this railing against the ladies will make your company as scandalous to gentlemen as railing at religion would to a parson.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 261