LAPPET. Ah! sir, let me alone to drain a man; I have the secret to open his heart, and his purse too.
RAMILIE. I defy you to drain the man we talk of, of his money; he loves that more than any thing you can procure him in exchange; the very sight of a dun throws him into convulsions; ‘Tis touching him in the only sensible part; ‘Tis piercing his heart, tearing out his vitals, to ask him for a farthing; but here he is, and if you get a shilling out of him, I’ll marry you without any other fortune.
SCENE VI.
LOVEGOLD, LAPPET.
LOVEGOLD. All’s well, hitherto; my dear money is safe. Is it you, Lappet?
LAPPET. I should rather ask if it be you, sir; why, you look so young and vigorous —
LOVEGOLD. Do I, — do I?
LAPPET. Why, you grow younger and younger every day, sir; you never looked half so young in your life, sir, as you do now. Why, sir, I know fifty young fellows of five and twenty that are older than you are.
LOVEGOLD. That may be, that may be. Lappet, considering the lives they lead; and yet I am a good ten years above fifty.
LAPPET. Well, and what’s ten years above fifty? ‘Tis the very flower of a man’s age. Why, sir, you are now in the very prime of your life.
LOVEGOLD. Very true, that’s very true, as to understanding; but I am afraid, could I take off twenty years, it would do me no harm with the ladies, Lappet. How goes on our affair with Mariana? Have you mentioned any thing about what her mother can give her? For, now-a-days nobody marries a woman unless she bring something with her besides a petticoat.
LAPPET. Sir! why, sir, this young lady will be worth to you as good a thousand pound a year as ever was told.
LOVEGOLD. How, a thousand pound a year!
LAPPET. Yes, sir, there’s in the first place the article of a table; she has a very little stomach, she does not eat above an ounce in a fortnight, and then as to the quality of what she eats, you’ll have no need of a French cook upon her account; as for sweetmeats, she mortally hates them: so there is the article of desserts wiped off all at once — You’ll have no need of a confectioner, who would be eternally bringing in bills for preserves, conserves, biscuits, comfits, and jellies, of which half a dozen ladies would swallow you ten pounds’-worth at a meal: this, I think, we may very moderately reckon at two hundred pounds a year at least. Item, For clothes, she has been bred up at such a plainness in them, that should we allow but for three birthnight suits a year saved, which are the least a town-lady would expect, there go a good two hundred pounds a year more. For jewels (of which she hates the very sight) the yearly interest of what you must lay out in them would amount to one hundred pounds. Lastly, she has an utter detestation for play, at which I have known several moderate ladies lose a good two thousand pounds a year: now let us take only the fourth part of that, which amounts to five hundred; to which, if we add two hundred pounds on the table account, two hundred pounds in clothes, and one hundred pounds in jewels, there is, sir, your thousand pounds a year in hard money.
LOVEGOLD. Ay, ay, these are pretty things, it must be confessed, very pretty things; but there’s nothing real in ‘em.
LAPPET. How, sir, is it not something real to bring you in marriage a vast store of sobriety, the inheritance of a great love for simplicity of dress, and a vast acquired fund of hatred for play?
LOVEGOLD. This is downright raillery, Lappet, to make me up a fortune out of the expenses she won’t put me to; I assure you, madam, I shall give no acquaintance for what I have not received; in short, Lappet, I must touch, touch, touch something real.
LAPPET. Never fear, you shall touch something real: I have heard them talk of a certain country, where she has a very pretty freehold, which shall be put into your hands.
LOVEGOLD. Nay, if it were a copyhold, I should be glad to touch it; but there is another thing that disturbs me. You know this girl is young, and young people generally love one another’s company: it would ill agree with a person of my temper to keep an assembly for all the young rakes and flaunting girls in town.
LAPPET. Ah, sir, how little do you know of her! This is another particularity that I had to tell you of; she has a most terrible aversion for all young people, and loves none but persons of your years. I would advise you, above all things, to take care not to appear too young; she insists on sixty at least. She says, that fifty-six years are not able to content her.
LOVEGOLD. This humour is a little strange, methinks.
LAPPET. She carries it farther, sir, than can be imagined; she has in her chamber several pictures; but what do you think they are? None of your smock-faced young fellows, your Adonises, your Cephaluses, your Parises, and your
APOLLOS. No sir, you see nothing there but your handsome figures of Saturn, King Priam, old Nestor, and good father Anchises upon his son’s shoulders.
LOVEGOLD. Admirable! This is more than I could have hoped. To say the truth, had I been a woman I should never have loved young fellows.
LAPPET. I believe you. Pretty sort of stuff, indeed, to be in love with your young fellows! Pretty masters, indeed, with their fine complexions, and their fine feathers! Now, I should be glad to taste the savour that is in any of them.
LOVEGOLD. And do you really think me pretty tolerable?
LAPPET. Tolerable! you are ravishing! If your picture was drawn by a good hand, sir, it would be invaluable! Turn about a little, if you please: there, what can be more charming? Let me see you walk; there’s a person for you, tall, straight, free, and dégagée! Why, sir, you have no fault about you.
LOVEGOLD. Not many; hem hem; not many, I thank Heaven; only a few rheumatic pains now and then, and a small catarrh that seizes me sometimes.
LAPPET. Ah, sir, that’s nothing; your catarrh sits very well upon you, and you cough with a very good grace.
LOVEGOLD. But tell me, what does Mariana say of my person?
LAPPET. She has a particular pleasure in talking of it; and I assure you, sir, I have not been backward on all such occasions to blazon forth your merit, and to make her sensible how advantageous a match you will be to her.
LOVEGOLD. You did very well, and I am obliged to you.
LAPPET. But, sir, I have a small favour to ask of you — I have a law-suit depending, which I am on the very brink of losing for want of a little money — [He looks gravely] — and you could easily procure my success, if you had the least friendship for me. You can’t imagine, sir, the pleasure she takes in talking of you. [He looks pleased.] — Ah! how you will delight her! — how your venerable mien will charm her! She will never be able to withstand you — But indeed, sir, this lawsuit will be of a terrible consequence to me. [He looks grave again.] I am ruined, if I lose it, which a very small matter might prevent. Ah, sir, had you but seen the raptures with which she has heard me talk of you! [He resumes his gaiety.] How pleasure sparkled in her eyes at the recital of your good qualities! In short, to discover a secret to you, which I promised to conceal, I have worked up her imagination, till she is downright impatient of having the match concluded.
LOVEGOLD. Lappet, you have acted a very friendly part; and I own that I have all the obligations in the world to you.
LAPPET. I beg you would give me this little assistance, sir. [He looks serious.] It will set me on my feet, and I shall be eternally obliged to you.
LOVEGOLD. Farewell, I’ll go and finish my despatches.
LAPPET. I assure you, sir, you could never assist me in a greater necessity.
LOVEGOLD. I must go give some orders about a particular affair.
LAPPET. I would not importune you, sir, if I was not forced by the last extremity.
LOVEGOLD. I expect the tailor about turning my coat. Don’t you think this coat will look well enough turned, and with new buttons, for a wedding suit?
LAPPET. For pity’s sake, sir, don’t refuse me this small favour; I shall be undone, indeed, sir. If it were but so small a matter as ten pounds, sir.
LOVEGOLD. I think I hear the tailor’s voice.
&nb
sp; LAPPET. If it were but five pounds, sir; but three pounds, sir; nay, sir, a single guinea would be of service for a day or two. [As he offers to go out on either side, she intercepts him.
LOVEGOLD. I must go; I can’t stay. Hark there, somebody calls me. I’m very much obliged to you; indeed, I am very much obliged to you.
LAPPET. Go to the gallows, to the devil, like a covetous good-for-nothing villain, as you are. Ramilie is in the right; however, I shall not quit the affair: for though I get nothing out of him, I am sure of my reward from the other side.
Fools only to one party will confide,
Good politicians will both parties guide,
And, if one fails, they’re fee’d on t’other side.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
SCENE continues.
HARRIET, FREDERICK, CLERMONT.
FREDERICK. I think, sir, you have given my sister a very substantial proof of your affection. I am sorry you could have had such a suspicion of me, as to imagine I could have been an enemy to one who has approved himself a gentleman and a lover.
CLERMONT. If any thing, sir, could add to my misfortunes, it would be to be thus obliged, without having any prospect of repaying the obligation.
FREDERICK. Every word you speak is a farther conviction to me that you are what you have declared yourself; for there is something in a generous education which it is impossible for persons who want that happiness to counterfeit: therefore, henceforth I beg you to believe me sincerely your friend.
HARRIET. Come, come, pray a truce with your compliments; for I hear my father’s cough coming this way.
SCENE II.
LOVEGOLD, FREDERICK, CLERMONT, HARRIET.
LOVEGOLD. So, so, this is just as I would have it. Let me tell you, children, this is a prudent young man, and you cannot converse too much with him. He will teach you, sir, for all you hold your head so high, better sense than to borrow money at fifty per cent. And you, madam, I dare say he will infuse good things into you too, if you will but hearken to him.
FREDERICK. While you live, sir we shall want no other instructor.
LOVEGOLD. Come hither, Harriet. You know to-night I have invited our friend and neighbour Mr. Spindle. Now I intend to take this opportunity of saving the expense of another entertainment, by inviting Mariana and her mother; for I observe, that, take what care one will, there is always more victuals provided on these occasions than is ate; and an additional guest makes no additional expense.
CLERMONT. Very true, sir; besides, though they were to rise hungry, no one ever calls for more at another person’s table.
LOVEGOLD. Eight, honest Clermont: and to rise with an appetite is one of the wholesomest things in the world. Harriet, I would have you go immediately and carry the invitation: you may walk thither, and they will bring you back in a coach.
HARRIET. I shall obey you, sir.
LOVEGOLD. GO, that’s my good girl. And you, sir, I desire you would behave yourself civilly at supper.
FREDERICK. Why should you suspect me, sir?
LOVEGOLD. I know, sir, with what eyes such sparks as you look upon a mother-in-law; but, if you hope for my forgiveness of your late exploit, I would advise you to behave to her in the most affectionate manner imaginable.
FREDERICK. I cannot promise, sir, to be overfed at her being my mother-in-law: but this I will promise you, I will be as civil to her as you could wish. I will behold her with as much affection as you can desire me; that is an article upon which you may be sure of a most punctual obedience.
LOVEGOLD. That, I think, is the least I can expect.
FREDERICK. Sir, you shall have no reason to complain.
SCENE III.
LOVEGOLD, CLERMONT, JAMES.
JAMES. Did you send for me, sir?
LOVEGOLD. Where have you been? for I have wanted you above an hour.
JAMES. Whom, sir, did you want? your coachman, or your cook? for I am both one and t’other.
LOVEGOLD. I want my cook, sir.
JAMES. I thought, indeed, it was not your coachman; for you have had no great occasion for him since your last pair of geldings were starved — But your cook, sir, shall wait on you in an instant.
[Puts off his coachman’s great coat, and appears as a cook.
LOVEGOLD. What’s the meaning of this folly?
JAMES. I am ready for your commands, sir.
LOVEGOLD. I am engaged this evening to give a supper.
JAMES. A supper, sir! I have not heard the word this half-year. I have indeed, now and then heard of such a thing as a dinner; but for a supper, I have not dressed one so long, that I am afraid my hand is out.
LOVEGOLD. Leave off your saucy jesting, sirrah, and see that you provide me a good supper.
JAMES. That may be done, sir, with a good deal of money.
LOVEGOLD. What, is the devil in you? Always money. Can you say nothing else but money, money, money? All my servants, my children, my relations, can pronounce no other word than money.
CLERMONT. I never heard so ridiculous an answer. Here’s a miracle for you, indeed, to make a good supper, with a good deal of money! Is there any thing so easy? Is there any one who can’t do it? Would a man show himself to be a good cook, he must make a good supper out of a little money.
JAMES. I wish you would be so good, sir, as to show us that art, and take my office of cook upon yourself.
LOVEGOLD. Peace, sirrah, and tell me what we can have.
JAMES. There’s a gentleman, sir, who can furnish you out a good supper with a little money.
LOVEGOLD. Answer me yourself.
JAMES. Why, sir, how many will there be at table?
LOVEGOLD. About eight or ten; but I will have a supper dressed but for eight: for if there be enough for eight, there is enough for ten.
JAMES. Suppose, sir, you have at one end of the table a good handsome soup; at the other a fine Westphalia ham and chickens; on one side a fillet of veal roasted; and on the other a turkey, or rather a bustard, which, I believe, may be bought for a guinea, or thereabouts.
LOVEGOLD. What! is the fellow providing an entertainment for my lord mayor and the court of aldermen?
JAMES. Then, sir, for the second course a leash of pheasants, a leash of fat poulards, half a dozen partridges, one dozen of quails, two dozen of ortolans, three dozen —
LOVEGOLD. [Putting his hand before James’s mouth.] Ah, villain! you are eating up all I am worth.
JAMES. Then a ragout —
LOVEGOLD. [Stopping his mouth again.] Hold your extravagant tongue, sirrah.
CLERMONT. Have you a mind to burst them all? Has my master invited people to cram ‘em to death? Or do you think his friends have a mind to eat him up at one supper? Such servants as you, Mr. James, should be often reminded of that excellent saying of a very wise man, “We must eat to live, and not live to eat.”
LOVEGOLD. Excellently well said, indeed; it is the finest sentence I ever heard in my life. “We must live to eat, and not eat to” — No, that is not it; how did you say?
CLERMONT. That “we must eat to live, and not live to eat.”
LOVEGOLD. Extremely fine; pray, write them out for me: for I’m resolved to have ‘em done in letters of gold, or black and white rather, over my hall chimney.
JAMES. You have no need to do any more, sir; people talk enough of you already.
LOVEGOLD. Pray, sir, what do people say of me?
JAMES. Ah, sir, if I could but be assured that you would not be angry with me.
LOVEGOLD. Not at all; so far from it, you will very much oblige me; for I am always very glad to hear what the world says of me.
JAMES. Well, sir, then since you will have it, I will tell you freely, that they make a jest of you every where; nay of your very servants, upon your account. They make ten thousand stories of you; one says, that you have always a quarrel ready with your servants at quarter-day, or when they leave you, in order to find an excuse to give them nothing. Another says, that you were taken one night steali
ng your own oats from your own horses; for which your coachman very handsomely belaboured your back. In a word, sir, one can go no where, where you arc not the byeword; you are the laughing-stock of all the world; and you are never mentioned but by the names of covetous, scraping, stingy —
LOVEGOLD. Impertinent, impudent rascal! Beat him for me, Clermont.
CLERMONT. Are not you ashamed, Mr. James, to give your master this language?
JAMES. What’s that to you, sir? — I fancy this fellow’s a coward; if he be, I will handle him. [Aside.
CLERMONT. It does not become a servant to use such language to his master.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 302