MRS. MODERN. Would I had never heard, nor seen, nor known you.
MR. BELLAMANT. If I alone have robbed you of your honour, it is you alone have robbed me of mine.
MRS. MODERN. Your honour! ridiculous! the virtue of a man!
MR. BELLAMANT. Madam, I say, my honour; if to rob a woman who brought me beauty, fortune, love, and virtue; if to hazard the making her miserable be no breach of honour, robbers and murderers may be honourable men; yet, this I have done, and this I do still for you.
MRS. MODERN. We will not enter into a detail, Mr. Bellamant, of what we have done for one another; perhaps the balance may be on your side: if so, it must be still greater; for I have one request which I must not be denied.
MR. BELLAMANT. You know, if it be in my power to grant, it is not in my power to deny you.
MRS. MODERN. Then for the sake of my reputation, and to prevent any jealousy in my husband, bring me acquainted with Mrs. Bellamant.
MR. BELLAMANT. Ha!
MRS. MODERN. By which means we shall have more frequent opportunities together.
MR. BELLAMANT. Of what use your acquaintance can be, I know not. ‘
MRS. MODERN. Do you scruple it? This is too plain an evidence of your contempt of me; you will not introduce a woman of stained virtue to your wife: can you, who caused my crime, be the first to contemn me for it?
MR. BELLAMANT. Since you impute my caution to so wrong a cause, I am willing to prove your error.
MRS. MODERN. Let our acquaintance begin this night then; try if you cannot bring her hither now.
MR. BELLAMANT. I will try, nay, and I will succeed: for oh! I hare sacrificed the best of wives to your love.
MRS. MODERX. I envy, not admire her for an affection which any woman might preserve to you.
MR. BELLAMANT. I fly to execute your commands.
MRS. MODERX. Stay — I —
MR. BELLAMANT. Speak.
MRS. MODERX. I must ask one last favour of you — and yet I know not how — though it be a trifle, and I will repay it — only lend me another hundred guineas.
MR. BELLAMANT. Your request, madam, is always a command. I think time flies with wings of lead till I return.
SCENE IX.
MRS. MODERN. [sola.] And I shall think you fly on golden wings, my dear gallant. Thou ass, to think that the heart of a woman is to be won by gold, as well as her person; but thou wilt find, though a woman often sells her person, she always gives her heart.
SCENE X
MRS. BELLAMANT’S House.
LORD RICHLY, MRS. BELLAMANT, at Piquet.
LORD RICHLY. Six parties successively! sure Fortune will change soon, or I shall believe she is not blind.
MRS. BELLAMANT. No, my lord, you either play with too great negligence, or with such ill-luck, that I shall press my victory no farther at present. Besides, I can’t help thinking five points place the odds on my side.
LORD RICHLY. Can you change this note, madam?
MRS. BELLAMANT. Let it alone, my lord.
LORD RICHLY. Excuse me, madam, if I am superstitiously observant to pay my losings before I rise from the table. — Besides, madam, it will give me an infinite pleasure to have the finest woman in the world in my debt. Do but keep it till I have the honour of seeing you again. Nay, madam, I must insist on it, though I am forced to leave it in your hands thus —
SCENE XI.
MRS. BELLAMANT. [Sola.] What can this mean! — I am confident too that he lost the last party designedly. I observed him fix his eyes steadfastly on mine, and sigh, and seem careless of his game — It must be so — he certainly hath a design on me. I will return him this note immediately, and am resolved never to see him more.
SCENE XII.
MR. BELLAMANT, MRS. BELLAMANT.
MRS. BELLAMANT. My dear! where have you been all day? I have not had one moment of your company since dinner.
MR. BELLAMANT. I have been upon business of very great consequence, my dear.
MRS. BELLAMANT. IS it fit for me to hear?
MR. BELLAMANT. No, my dear, it would only make you uneasy.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Nay, then I must hear it, that I may share your concern.
MR. BELLAMANT. Indeed, it would rather aggravate it: it is not in your power to assist me; for since you will know it, an affair hath happened, which makes it necessary for me to pay a hundred guineas this very evening.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Is that all?
MR. BELLAMANT. That, indeed, was once a trifle — but now it makes me uneasy.
MRS. BELLAMANT. So it doth not me, because it is in my power to supply you. Here is a note for that sum; but I must be positively repaid within a day or two: it is only a friend’s money trusted in my hands.
MR. BELLAMANT. My dear, sure when Heaven gave me thee, it gave me a cure for every malady of the mind, and it hath made thee still the instrument of all its good to me.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Be assured I desire no greater blessing than the continual reflection of having pleased you.
MR. BELLAMANT. Are you engaged, my love, this evening? —
MRS. BELLAMANT. Whatever engagement I have, it is in your power to break.
MR. BELLAMANT. If you have none, I will introduce you to a new acquaintance: one who I believe you never visited, but must know by sight — Mrs. Modern.
MRS. BELLAMANT. It is equal to me in what company I am, when with you. My eyes are so delighted with that principal figure, that I have no leisure to contemplate the rest of the piece. I’ll wait on you immediately.
SCENE XIII.
MR. BELLAMANT. [Solus.] What a wretch am I! Have I either honour or gratitude, and can I injure such a woman? How do I injure her! while she perceives no abatement in my passion, she is not injured by its inward decay: nor can I give her a secret pain, while she hath no suspicion of my secret pleasures. Have I not found too an equal return of passion in my mistress? Does she not sacrifice more for me than a wife can? The gallant is, indeed, indebted for the favours he receives: but the husband pays dearly for what he enjoys. I hope, however, this will be the last hundred pounds I shall be asked to lend. My wife’s having this dear note, was as lucky as it was unexpected — Ha! — the same I gave this morning to Mrs. Modern. Amazement! what can this mean?
SCENE XIV.
MR. BELLAMANT, MRS. BELLAMANT.
MR. BELLAMANT. My dear, be not angry at my curiosity, but pray tell me how came you by this?
MRS. BELLAMANT. Pardon me, my dear, I have a particular reason for not telling you.
MR. BELLAMANT. And I have a particular reason for asking it.
MRS. BELLAMANT. I beg you not to press me: perhaps you will oblige me to sacrifice a friend’s reputation.
MR. BELLAMANT. The secret shall rest in my bosom, I assure you.
MRS. BELLAMANT. But suppose I should have promised not to suffer it from my own.
MR. BELLAMANT. A husband’s command breaks any promise.
MRS. BELLAMANT. I am surprised to see you so solicitous about a trifle.
MR. BELLAMANT. I am rather surprised to find you so tenacious of one; besides, be assured, you cannot have half the reason to suppress the discovery as I to insist upon it.
MRS. BELLAMANT. What is your reason.
MR. BELLAMANT. The very difficulty you make in telling it.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Your curiosity shall be satisfied, then; but I beg you would defer it now. I may get absolved from my promise of secrecy. I beg you would not urge me to break my trust.
MR. BELLAMANT. [Aside.] She certainly hath not discovered my falsehood, that were impossible: besides, I may satisfy myself immediately by Mrs. Modern.
MRS. BELLAMANT. What makes you uneasy? I assure you there is nothing in this worth your knowing.
MR. BELLAMANT. I believe it, at least I shall give up my curiosity to your desire.
MRS. BELLAMANT. I am ready to wait on you.
MR. BELLAMANT. I must make a short visit first on what I told you, and will call on you immediately.
SCENE XV.<
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MRS. BELLAMANT. [Sola.] What can have given him this curiosity I know not; but should I have discovered the truth, who can tell into what suspicions it might have betrayed him? His jealous honour might have resolved on some fatal return to Lord Richly, had he taken it in the same way as I do; whereas, by keeping the secret, I preserve him every way from danger; for I myself will secure his honour without exposing his person. I will myself give Lord Richly his discharge. How nearly have I been unawares to the brink of ruin! For, surely, the lightest suspicion of a husband is ruin, indeed!
When innocence can scarce our lives defend,
What dangers must the guilty wife attend?
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
MRS. MODERN’S House.
MR. MODERN, MRS. MODERN.
MR. MODERN. In short, madam, you shall not drive a separate trade at my expense. Your person is mine: I bought it lawfully in the church; and unless I am to profit by the disposal, I shall keep it all for my own use.
MRS. MODERN. This insolence is not to be borne.
MR. MODERN. Have I not winked at all your intrigues? Have I not pretended business, to leave you and your gallants together? Have I not been the most obsequious, observant —
MRS. MODERN. Out with it; you know what you are.
MR. MODERN. Do you upbraid me with your vices, madam?
MRS. MODERN. My vices! — Call it obedience to a husband’s will. Can you deny that you have yourself persuaded me to the undertaking? Can you forget the arguments you used to convince me that virtue was the lightest of bubbles?
MR. MODERN. I own it all; and had I felt the sweets of your pleasures, as at first, I had never once upbraided you with them; but, as I must more than share the dishonour, it is surely reasonable I should share the profit.
MRS. MODERN. And have you not?
MR. MODERN. What if I have?
MRS. MODERN. Why do you complain then?
MR. MODERN. Because I find those effects no more. Your cards run away with the lucre of your other pleasures — and you lose to the knaves of your own sex what you get from the fools of ours.
MRS. MODERN. ‘Tis false; you know I seldom lose — Nor indeed can I considerably; for I have not lately had it in my power to stake high: Lord Richly, who was the fountain of our wealth, hath long been dry to me.
MR. MODERN. I hope, madam, this new gallant will turn to a better account.
MRS. MODERN. Our amour is yet too young to expect any fruit from thence.
MR. MODERN. AS young as it is, I have reason to believe it is grown to perfection. Whatever fruits I may expect from him, it is not impossible, from what hath already happened, but I may expect some from you, and that is not golden fruit. I am sure if women sprung from the earth, as some philosophers think, it was from the clay of Egypt, not the sands of Peru. Serpents and crocodiles are the only fruit they produce.
MRS. MODERN. Very true; and a wife contains the whole ten plagues of her country. [Laughing.
MR. MODERN. Why had I not been a Turk, that I might have enslaved my wife; or a Chinese, that I might have sold her!
MRS. MODERN. That would have been only the custom of the country; you have done more, you have sold her in England; in a country where women are as backward to be sold to a lover as to refuse him; and where cuckold is almost the only title of honour that can’t be bought.
MR. MODERN. This ludicrous behaviour, madam, as ill becomes the present subject, as the entertaining new gallants doth the tenderness you this morning expressed for your reputation. In short, it is impossible that your amours should be secret long; and however careless you have been of me whilst I have had my horns in my pocket, I hope you’ll take care to gild them when I am to wear them in public.
MRS. MODERN. What would you have me do?
MR. MODERN. Suffer me to discover you together; by which means we may make our fortunes easy all at once. One good discovery in Westminster Hall will be of greater service than Ms utmost generosity. — The law will give you more in one moment, than his love for many years.
MRS. MODERN. Don’t think of it.
MR. MODERN. Yes, and resolve it; unless you agree to this, madam, you must agree immediately to break up our house, and retire into the country.
MRS. MODERN. Racks and tortures are in that name.
MR. MODERN. But many more are in that of a prison: so you must resolve either to quit the town, or submit to my reasons.
MRS. MODERN. When reputation is gone all places are alike: when I am despised in it I shall hate the town as much as now I like it.
MR. MODERN. There are other places, and other towns; the whole world is the house of the rich, and they may live in what apartment of it they please.
MRS. MODERN. I cannot resolve.
MR. MODERN. But I can: if you will keep your reputation, you shall carry it into the country, where it will be of service — In town it is of none — or if it be, ‘tis, like clogs, only to those that walk on foot; and the one will no more recommend you in an assembly than the other.
MRS. MODERN. You never had any love for me.
MR. MODERN. Do you tax me with want of love for you? Have I not, for your sake, stood the public mark of infamy? Would you have had me poorly kept you, and starved you? — No — I could not bear to see you want; therefore have acted the part I’ve done: and yet, while I have winked at the giving up your virtue, have I not been the most industrious to extol it every where?
MRS. MODERN. So has Lord Richly, and so have all his creatures; a common trick among you, to blazon out the reputation of women whose virtue you have destroyed, and as industriously blacken them who have withstood you: a deceit so stale, that your commendation would sully a woman of honour.
MR. MODERN. I have no longer time to reason with you: so I shall leave you to consider on what I have said. [Exit.
MRS. MODERN. What shall I do? Can I bear to be the public scorn of all the malicious and ugly of my own sex or to retire with a man whom I hate and despise? Hold: there is a small glimpse of hope that I may avoid them both. I have reason to think Bellamant’s love as violent as he avers it. Now could I persuade him to fly away with me — Impossible! he hath still too much tenderness for his wife.— ‘
SCENE II.
LORD RICHLY, MRS. MODERN.
LORD RICHLY. “What success, my angel?
MRS. MODERN. Hope all, my lord, that lovers wish, or husbands fear: she will be here.
LORD RICHLY. When?
MRS. MODERN. NOW, to-night, instantly.
LORD RICHLY. Thou glory of intrigue! what words shall thank thee?
MRS. MODERN. No words at all, my lord; a hundred pounds must witness the first interview.
LORD RICHLY. They shall; and if she yields, a thousand.
MRS. MODERN That you must not expect yet.
LORD RICHLY. By Heaven, I do; I have more reason to expect it than you imagine: I have not been wanting to my desires since I left you. Fortune too seems to have watched for me. I got her to piquet, threw away six parties, and left her a bank note of a hundred for the payment of six pounds.
MRS. MODERN. And did she receive it?
LORD RICHLY. With the same reluctancy that a lawyer or physician would a double fee, or a court-priest a plurality.
MRS. MODERN. Then there is hope of success, indeed.
LORD RICHLY. Hope; there is certainty: the next attempt must carry her.
MRS. MODERN. You have a hundred friends in the garrison, my lord.
LORD RICHLY. And if some of them do not open the gates for me, the devil’s in it. I have succeeded often by leaving money in a lady’s hands: she spends it, is unable to pay, and then I, by virtue of my mortgage, immediately enter upon the premises.
MRS. MODERN. You are very generous, my lord.
LORD RICHLY. My money shall always be the humble servant of my pleasures; and it is the interest of men of fortune to keep up the price of beauty, that they may have it more among themselves.
MRS. MODERN. I am as much pleas
ed as surprised at this your prospect of success; and from this day forward I will think with you all virtue to be only pride, caprice, and the fear of shame.
LORD RICHLY. Virtue, like the Ghost in Hamlet, is here, there, and every where, and no where at all: its appearance is as imaginary as that of a ghost; and they are much the same sort of people who are in love with one and afraid of the other. It is a ghost which hath seldom haunted me, but I had the power of laying it.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 284