MR. WISDOM. And is this what you have to say, sir?
BISQUE. Don’t believe a word he says, sir; for he is one of the damnedst liars that ever Avas hanged; he’ll tell you he kept a justice of peace for a servant, if you will believe him.
MR. WISDOM. He says he kept you as such.
RISQUE. Ay, there it is now. Art thou not a sad dog, Tom? — But thou wilt pay for all thy rogueries shortly.
[Wisdom points to the Constable.
CONSTABLE. Come, bring them along; march, you poor beggarly rascal — you a rogue, and be damned to you, without a penny in your pocket.
SCENE XII.
MR. WISDOM, MRS. WISDOM, MRS. SOFTLY.
MR. WISDOM. Don’t be frightened, my dear; while you are at home, you are in no danger. Sister Softly, I am sorry you find my family in such disorder.
MRS. SOFTLY. I am heartily sorry for your sake, dear brother; but heaven knows how soon it may be our own fate; for I suppose you know we have received a letter too.
MR. WISDOM. We must find some way to break the neck of this trade. Here’s my poor wife will not be able to stir abroad this winter.
MRS. SOFTLY. Not stir abroad this winter! Marry, forbid it! she hath stayed at home longer already than I would have done, had the danger been ten times greater: I would rather lose my life than my liberty. Where’s the difference, whether one be locked up in one’s own grave, or one’s own house? — My soul is such an enemy to confinement, that if my body were confined, it would not stay in it.
MR. WISDOM. Oh lud! here’s doctrine for my wife. May your body never enter my doors again, I pray Heaven. [Aside.] But if you have no more fears for yourself, I hope you would have some for your husband.
MRS. SOFTLY. Oh! dear sir, the wife who loves her husband as well as herself is an exceeding good Christian. That man must be a most unreasonable creature, who expects a woman to abstain from pleasures for his sake.
MR. WISDOM. Hoity-toity! I hope you will allow that a woman ought to avoid some pleasures for the sake of her husband.
MRS. SOFTLY. Oh, certainly! ought, no doubt on’t. But to speak freely, I am afraid when once a woman’s pleasures run counter to the interest of her husband, when once she finds greater pleasures abroad than at home, I am afraid all the threatening letters in Europe will not keep her from them.
MR. WISDOM. Oh lud! Oh lud!
MRS. SOFTLY. But to show you that I am of a contrary opinion, I will leave the most agreeable company in the world to go home to my husband. No ceremony.
MR. WISDOM. I will see you into the chair.
MRS. SOFTLY. Sister, your servant.
MRS. WISDOM. My dear, I am yours. — What shall I think? Eakel cannot be guilty of such villainy. But then how came his servant here? He sent him to break the windows — and he exceeded his commission — It must be so — and what he hath said was only forged to excuse himself.
SCENE XIII.
MR. WISDOM, MRS. WISDOM.
MR. WISDOM. I wish you well home, madam; and may you never come abroad again. — My dear, I am afraid she hath quite struck yon dumb with surprise. This woman is a walking contagion, and ought not to be admitted into one’s house. She is able to raise a universal conjugal rebellion in the nation.
MRS. WISDOM. Alas! my dear, I wish this affair had not happened. I vow, I feel a sort of pity for these poor wretches, whom necessity hath driven to such courses. One of them seems so young too, that if he were forgiven perhaps he might amend —
MR. WISDOM. His method of robbing, perhaps, and the next time cut our throats.
MRS. WISDOM. Strict justice seems too rigorous in my opinion; and, though it may be a womanish weakness, I could wash you would forgive them.
MR. WISDOM. Be assured, my love, it is a womanish weakness which makes you plead for the life of a young fellow. By the women’s consent we should have no rogues hanged till after they are forty.
MRS. WISDOM. In one so young, vice hath not so strong a root.
MR. WISDOM. You lie, my dear; vice hath often the strongest root in a young fellow. So, say no more, I am determined he shall be hanged: I will go take my mess of sugar-sops, and to bed. In the morning early I will go to a justice of the peace.
MRS. WISDOM. But consider, my dear, will you not provoke the rest of the gang to revenge?
MR. WISDOM. Fear nothing, my dear.
While in your husband’s arms you keep your treasure,
You’re free from fear of hurt. —
MRS. WISDOM. Or hope of pleasure.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
An inner Boom in the Bound-house.
COMMONS, RAKEL.
COMMONS. Prithee, Tom, forgive me.
RAKEL. Forgive thee! Death and damnation! dost thou insult my misfortunes? Dost thou think I am come to the tree, -where I am to whine out of the world like a good Christian, and forgive all my enemies? If thou wilt hear my last prayer, damn thee heartily, heartily.
COMMONS. Amen, if I designed thee any mischief.
RAKEL. Rat your designs; it is equal to me whether you designed it or not; and I will forgive yon and that rascal Risque at the same time.
COMMONS. Nay, but, dear Tom, why the danger is not so great as thou apprehendest: it will never be believed that thou didst intend to rob my uncle; thy reputation will prevent that.
RAKEL. But it will be believed that I intended to cuckold your uncle; my reputation will not prevent that: and I would rather sacrifice the world than my mistress — Oons! I believe thou didst intend to discover me, to save the virtue of thy aunt.
COMMONS. To save the devil! You should lie with all my aunts, or with my mother and sisters: nay, I will carry a letter for you to any of them.
RAKEL. Carry a letter! If thou wilt get me two letters that were taken out of my pocket when I was searched, I will forgive thee — It is in vain to keep it a secret. Your uncle Wisdom hath in his possession a letter from each of your aunts, which, unless we get hack, must ruin them both.
COMMONS. But I suppose he hath read them already.
|RAKEL. Then they are ruined already.
COMMONS. Prithee, what are the letters?
RAKEL. I believe, sir, you may guess what business is between them and me.
COMMONS. Harkye, Tom — There is no smut in them.
RAKEL. There is nothing more in them than from the one an invitation to come and see her, and from the other a very civil message that she will never see my face again.
CONSTABLE. [Enters.] Captain, you must go before the justice. As for you, sir, you have your liberty to go where you please. I hope you will be as good as your word, and remember to buy your stockings at my shop; for, if I had not persuaded the gentleman to make up the affair, you might have gone before the justice too.
COMMONS. Mr. Constable, I am obliged to you; and, the next time you take me up, I hope I shall have more money in my pocket. Come, noble captain, be not dejected; I’ll stand by thee, whatever be the consequence. Mr. Constable, we’ll wait on you immediately. Harkye, I have a thought just risen may bring the ladies off in the easiest manner imaginable.
RAKEL. What hath the devil inspired thee with?
COMMONS. Suppose now I should swear that I forged their hands. Luckily for the purpose I have had a quarrel this very day with my uncle Wisdom, and another with my aunt Softly: so that we may persuade the old gentleman that I sent the letters to you in order to be revenged on them. Now, if we could persuade them this.
RAKEL. Which we might, if they were as ready to believe any thing as thou art to swear any thing; but as the case happeneth to be quite contrary, thy stratagem is good for nothing: so fare you well. Nothing will prosper with me whilst I keep such a wicked fellow company.
COMMONS. The invitation must be from my aunt Wisdom by his being there — Odd, if there be no direction, it may do — Thou art such a dear wicked dog, I cannot leave thee in the lurch.
SCENE II.
MR. WISDOM, MRS. WISDOM.
MR. WISDOM. Pray, no more o
f your good nature, my dear. It is a very good-natured thing truly to save one rogue’s throat, that he may cut twenty honest people’s. The good nature of women is as furious as their ill nature; they would save or destroy, without distinction. But by this time, I suppose, my brother Softly is ready. So, child, good-morrow.
MRS. WISDOM. Nay, my dear, I dare not trust myself even in my own house without you, now you have provoked the gang. So, if you are determined to go, you shall carry me to return my sister’s visit.
MR. WISDOM. Indeed, my dear, I will carry you to a masquerade as soon. No, no; no more visiting there. If my sister’s husband’s brother marries a mad woman, she shall not spoil my wife; I’ll carry you to no such lectures. She will teach you more naughtiness in half an hour than half a dozen modern comedies! nay, than the lewd epilogues to as many modern tragedies.
MRS. WISDOM. Which you never suffer me to go to though you seldom miss yourself.
MR. WISDOM. Well, I must not lose a moment; goodmorrow.
MRS. WISDOM. So you leave me behind to be murdered.
MR. WISDOM. You’ll come to no harm, I warrant you.
[Exit.
MRS. WISDOM. I cannot think that, when I know what you are going upon. If this generous creature should have honour enough to preserve my reputation, shall I suffer him to preserve it at the expense of a life, which was dearer to me than fame before, and by such an instance of honour will become still more precious? No, should it come to that, I will give up my honour to preserve my lover, and will be myself the witness to his innocence. Who’s there?
SCENE III.
MRS. WISDOM, BETTY.
MRS. WISDOM. Call a chair.
BETTY. Madam!
MRS. WISDOM. Call a chair.
BETTY. And is your ladyship resolved to venture abroad?
MRS. WISDOM. I begin to laugh at the danger I apprehended. But however, that I may not be too bold, order the footman to take a blunderbuss with him: and, d’ye hear, order him to hire chairmen, and arm them with muskets. I am resolved to pluck up a spirit, Betty, and show my husband that I am like other women.
BETTY. I am heartily glad to see your ladyship hath so much courage; I always liked those families the best where the ladies governed the most. Where ladies govern there are secrets, and where there are secrets there are i vails. I lived with a lady once who used to give her clothes away every month, and her husband durst not oppose it.
MRS. WISDOM. Go, do as I bid you in a moment, I have no time to lose; I will but put on my mantle and j be ready.
SCENE IV
MR. SOFTLY’S House.
MRS. SOFTLY. [Alone.] That he should convey himself under her table without her knowledge is something difficult to believe. Nor can I imagine any necessities capable of driving him to so abandoned a course. Her concern seemed to have another cause than fear. Besides, I remember, when we were at the masquerade together, he talked to her near an hour; and, if I mistake not, she was so pleased with his conversation, that she gave him encouragements which he was unlikely to have mistaken. It must be so — whatever was his design, she was privy to it. He is false, and so adieu, good captain.
SCENE V.
MR. SOFTLY, MRS. SOFTLY.
MR. SOFTLY. My dear, your servant: no news of my brother Wisdom yet? I have been considering how lucky it is that ours was not the house attacked — we might not so happily have discovered it. (Poor fool, how little she suspects who the incendiaries were.)
MRS. SOFTLY. Heaven send the gang be quite broke; I shall be obliged to make more servants mount the guard now whenever I go out.
MR. SOFTLY. It would be much more advisable for you to stay at home, and then no one need mount guard upon you but your husband.
MRS. SOFTLY. Never name it, I am no more safe at home than abroad; for, if the rogues should set our house on fire, I am sure no one would wish to be in it.
MR. SOFTLY. Still my arguments retort upon me, and like food to ill blood, promote the disease, not the cure. Well, my dear, take your swing, I’ll give you no more of my advice — and I heartily wish you may never stay at home.
MRS. SOFTLY. Why do you wish so?
MR. SOFTLY. Because I am sure you must be lamed first.
MRS. SOFTLY. Why, indeed, my dear, I think no one would stay at home who had legs to go abroad.
MR. SOFTLY. Truly, my dear, if I was sure she would have stayed at home I would have chosen a wife without legs, before the finest-legged woman in the universe; but she who can’t walk will be carried. I have no need to complain of your legs, for they seldom carry you farther than your own door. And truly, my dear, reckoning the number of your attendants, you go abroad now upon a dozen legs.
SERVANT. [Enters.] Sir, Mr. Wisdom to wait on your worship.
MR. SOFTLY. Show him up: — Will you stay and hear the trial?
MRS. SOFTLY. No, I have other business; by that time I am dressed I expect a lady to call on me to go to another trial; I mean the rehearsal of the new opera.
SCENE VI.
MR. WISDOM, MR. SOFTLY.
MR. SOFTLY. Brother Wisdom, your servant: my wife tells me you have made a discovery of the incendiaries. Ha, ha, ha! she little thinks who wrote the letters.
MR. WISDOM. No, nor do you think who will appear to have written them.
MR. SOFTLY. I hope we shall not appear to have written them.
MR. WISDOM. No, no. One of the fellows I have in custody offers to swear it on the other.
MR. SOFTLY. HOW! but you know we cannot admit of such a testimony, whereof we know the falsehood.
MR. WISDOM. And what then? you don’t take the false oath, do you? Are you to answer for the sins of another?
MR. SOFTLY. But will not the other circumstances do without that of the letter?
MR. WISDOM. Yes, they will do to hang him; but will not have the same terror on our wives.
MR. SOFTLY. I am glad of it with all my heart; I am sure I have severely paid for all the terrors I have given my wife: if I could bring her to be only as bad as she was before I should think myself entirely happy. In short, brother, I have found by woeful experience, that mending our wives is like mending our constitutions, when often after all our pains we would be glad to return to our former state.
MR. WISDOM. Well, brother, if it be so, I have no reason to repent having been a valetudinarian. — But let me tell you, brother, you do not know how to govern a wife.
MR. SOFTLY. And let me tell you, brother, you do not know what it is to have a woman of spirit to govern.
MR. WISDOM. A fig for her spirit, I know what it is to have a virtuous wife; and perhaps I am the only man in town that knows what it is to keep a wife at home.
MR. SOFTLY. Brother do not upbraid me with my wife’s going abroad: if she doth, it is in the best company. And for virtue — for that, sir, my wife’s name is Lucretia — Lucretia the second; and I don’t question but she’s as chaste as the first was.
MR. WISDOM. Ay, ay, and I believe so too — But don’t let the squeamishness of your conscience put a stop to my success: And let me tell you, if you are not advantaged by the stratagem, you will be disadvantaged by the discovery; for if you put such a secret into your wife’s bosom, let me tell you, you are not Solomon the second.
SCENE VII.
MR. WISDOM, MR. SOFTLY, CONSTABLE, RAKEL, RISQUE, CLERK, SERVANTS.
SERVANT. Sir, here is a constable with some prisoners.
MR. SOFTLY. Bring them in. Brother Wisdom, I will stretch both law and conscience as wide as possible to serve you.
CONSTABLE. Come, gentlemen, walk in and take your places.
MR. SOFTLY. Are these the two fellows, Mr. Constable, that you found last night broke into Mr. Wisdom’s house?
CONSTABLE. Yes, an’t please your worship.
RISQUE. We are the two rogues, an’t please your worship.
MR. WISDOM. This fellow is to be admitted evidence against the other.
RISQUE. Yes, I am evidence for the king.
MR. SOFTLY. Whe
re is my clerk? Mr. Sneaksby, let that fellow be sworn.
RISQUE. May it please your worship, I have a sort of scruple of conscience; I have been told that you are apter to hire rogues to swear against one another than to pay them for it when they have done it. Therefore, supposing it to be all the same case with your worship, I should be glad to be paid beforehand.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 269