Fust. You’ll take care he shall talk foolish enough, I’ll warrant you. [Aside.
May. Come, here’s a round to my lord and the colonel’s health; a Place and a Promise, I say; they may talk of the pride of courtiers, but I am sure I never had a civiller squeeze by the hand in my life.
Trap. Ay, you have squeezed that out pretty well: but shew the gold at these words, sir, if you please.
May. I have none.
Trap. Pray, Mr Prompter, take care to get some counters against it is acted.
Fust. Ha, ha, ha! upon my word the courtiers have topt their part; the actor has outdone the author; this bribing with an empty hand is quite in the character of a courtier.
Trap. Come, enter Sir Harry and the squire. Where are they?
I Play. Sir, Mr Soundwell has been regularly summoned, but he has refused to act the part.
Trap. Has he been writ to?
I Play. Yes, sir, and here’s his answer.
Trap. Let both the letters be produced before the audience. Pray, Mr Prompter, who shall we have to act the part?
I Play. Sir, I like the part so well that I have studied it in the hope of some time playing it.
Trap. You are an exceeding pretty young fellow, and I am very glad of the exchange.
Sir H. Halloo, hark forwards: hark, honest Ned, good-morrow to you; how dost, Master Mayor? What, you are driving it about merrily this morning? Come, come, sit down; the squire and I will take a pot with you. Come, Mr Mayor, here’s — liberty and property and no excise.
May. Sir Harry, your health.
Sir H. What, won’t you pledge me? Won’t you drink no excise?
May. I don’t love party healths, Sir Harry.
All Ald. No, no; no party healths, no party healths.
Sir H. Say ye so, gentlemen? I begin to smoke you; your pulses have been felt, I perceive: and will you be bribed to sell your country? Where do you think these courtiers get the money they bribe you with, but from yourselves? Do you think a man who will give a bribe won’t take one? If you would be served faithfully, you must choose faithfully, and give your vote on no consideration but merit; for my part, I would as soon suborn an evidence at an assize as a vote at an election.
May. I do believe you, Sir Harry.
Sir H. Mr Mayor, I hope you received those three bucks I sent you, and that they were good.
May. Sir Harry, I thank you for them; but ‘tis so long since I eat them that I have forgot the taste.
Sir H. We’ll try to revive it — I’ll order you three more to-morrow morning.
May. You will surfeit us with venison: you will indeed; for it is a dry meat, Sir Harry, a very dry meat.
Sir H. We’ll find a way to moisten it, I’ll warrant you, if there be any wine in town. Mr Alderman Stitch, your bill is too reasonable; you certainly must lose by it: send me in half a dozen more greatcoats, pray; my servants are the dirtiest dogs! Mr Damask, I believe you are afraid to trust me, by those few yards of silk you sent my wife; she likes the pattern so extremely she is resolved to hang her rooms with it; pray let me have a hundred yards of it; I shall want more of you. Mr Timber, and you, Mr Iron, I shall get into your books too.
Fust. Would not that getting into books have been more in the character of the courtier, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. Go on, go on, sir.
Sir H. That gentleman interrupts one so. — Oh, now I remember — Mr Timber, and you Mr Iron, I shall get into your books too; though if I do, I assure you I won’t continue in them long.
Trap. Now, sir, would it have been more in the character of a courtier? But you are like all our modern criticks, who damn a man before they have heard a man out; when, if they would but stay till the joke came —
Fust. They would stay to hear your last words, I believe. [Aside.
Sir H. For you must know, gentlemen, that I intend to pull down my old house, and build a new one.
Trap. Pray, gentlemen, observe all to start at the word house. Sir Harry, that last speech again, pray.
Sir H. For you, &c. —— Mr Mayor, I must have all my bricks of you.
May. And do you intend to rebuild your house, Sir Harry?
Sir H. Positively.
May. Gentlemen, methinks Sir Harry’s toast stands still; will nobody drink liberty and property, and no excise? [They all drink and huzza.
Sir H. Give me thy hand, mayor; I hate bribery and corruption: if this corporation will not suffer itself to be bribed, there shall not be a poor man in it.
May. And he that will, deserves to be poor; for my part, the world should not bribe me to vote against my conscience.
Trap. Do you take that joke, sir?
Fust. No, faith, sir.
Trap. Why, how can a man vote against his conscience who has no conscience at all?
1 Ald. Come, gentlemen, here’s a Fox-chace and a Tankard!
Omnes. A Fox-chace and a Tankard! huzza!
Sir H. Come, let’s have one turn in the marketplace, and then we’ll to dinner.
May. Let’s fill the air with our repeated cries Of liberty, and property, and no excise.
[Exeunt Mayor and Aldermen.
Trap. How do you like that couplet, sir?
Fust. Oh! very fine, sir!
Trap. This is the end of the first act, sir.
Fust. I cannot but observe, Mr Trapwit, how nicely you have opposed squire Tankard to colonel Promise; neither of whom have yet uttered one syllable.
Trap. Why, you would not have every man a speaker, would you? One of a side is sufficient; and let me tell you, sir, one is full enough to utter all that the party has to say for itself.
Fust. Methinks, sir, you should let the audience know they can speak, if it were but an ay or a no.
Trap. Sir, the audience must know that already; for if they could not say ay and no, they would not be qualified for candidates.
Fust. Oh! your humble servant, I am answered; but pray, sir, what is the action of this play?
Trap. The action, sir?
Fust. Yes, sir, the fable, the design?
Trap. Oh! you ask who is to be married? Why, sir, I have a marriage; I hope you think I understand the laws of comedy better than to write without marrying somebody.
Fust. But is that the main design to which everything conduces?
Trap. Yes, sir.
Fust. Faith, sir, I can’t for the soul of me see how what has hitherto past can conduce at all to that end.
Trap. You can’t? indeed, I believe you can’t; for that is the whole plot of my play: and do you think I am like your shallow writers of comedy, who publish the bans of marriage between all the couples in their play in the first act? No, sir, I defy you to guess my couple till the thing is done, slap all at once; and that too by an incident arising from the main business of the play, and to which everything conduces.
Fust. That will, indeed, surprise me.
Trap. Sir, you are not the first man my writings have surprised. But what’s become of all our players? — Here, who begins the second act? — Prompter!
Enter 1st Player.
I Play. Sir, the prompter and most of the players are drinking tea in the green-room.
Trap. Mr Fustian, shall we drink a dish of tea with them? Come, sir, as you have a part in my play, you shall drink a dish with us.
I Play. Sir, I dare not go into the green-room; my salary is not high enough: I shall be forfeited if I go in there.
Trap. Pshaw! come along; your sister has merit enough for herself and you too: if they forfeit you, I’ll warrant she’ll take it off again.
ACT II.
SCENE I. — Enter TRAPWIT, FUSTIAN, Prompter, Lord PLACE, Mrs and Miss Mayoress.
Trap. I am afraid, Mr Fustian, you have hitherto suspected that I was a dabbler in low comedy; now, sir, you shall see some scenes of politeness and fine conversation among the ladies. Come, my lord, come, begin.
Place. Pray, Mrs Mayoress, what do you think this lace cost a yard?
Fust. A very pretty beginn
ing of polite conversation, truly.
Trap. Sir, in this play I keep exactly up to nature, nor is there anything said in this scene that I have not heard come out of the mouths of the finest people of the age. Sir, this scene has cost me ten shillings in chair-hire, to keep the best company, as it is called.
Mrs M. Indeed, my lord, I cannot guess it at less than ten pounds a yard.
Place. Pray, madam, was you at the last ridotto?
Fust. Ridotto! the devil! a country mayoress at a ridotto! Sure, that is out of character, Mr Trapwit!
Trap. Sir, a conversation of this nature cannot be earned on without these helps; besides, sir, this country mayoress, as you call her, may be allowed to know something of the town; for you must know, sir, that she has been woman to a woman of quality.
Fust. I am glad to hear that.
Mrs M. Oh, my lord! mention not those dear ridottos to me, who have been confined these twelve long months in the country; where we have no entertainment but a set of hideous strolling players; nor have I seen any one human creature till your lordship came to town. Heaven send us a controverted election! then I shall go to that dear delightful place once more.
Miss M. Yes, mama, and then we shall see Faribelly, the strange man-woman that they say is with child; and the fine pictures of Merlin’s cave at the playhouses; and the rope-dancing and the tumbling.
Fust. By miss’s taste I believe she has been bred up under a woman of quality too.
Place. I cannot but with pleasure observe, madam, the polite taste miss shows in her choice of entertainments; I dare swear she will be much admired in the beau monde, and I don’t question but will be soon taken into keeping by some man of quality.
Miss M. Keeping, my lord?
Place. Ay, that surprize looks well enough in one so young, that does not know the world; but, miss, every one now keeps and is kept; there are no such things as marriages now-a-days, unless merely Smithfield contracts, and that for the support of families; but then the husband and wife both take into keeping within a fortnight.
Mrs M. My lord, I would have my girl act like other young ladies; but she does not know any men of quality, who shall introduce her to ‘em?
Place. That, madam, must be your part; you must take a house and see company; in a little while you may keep an assembly, and play at cards as high as you can; and almost all the money that is won must be put into the box, which you must call paying for the cards; though it is indeed paying for your candles, your cloaths, your lodgings, and, in short, everything you have. I know some persons who make a very considerable figure in town, whose whole estate lies in their card-box.
Mrs M. And have I been so long contented to be the wife of a poor country tradesman, when I might have had all this happiness?
Fust. How comes this lady, Mr Trapwit, considering her education, to be so ignorant of all these things?
Trap. ‘Gad, that’s true; I had forgot her education, faith, when I writ that speech; it’s a fault I sometimes fall into — a man ought to have the memory of a devil to remember every little thing; but come, go on, go on — I’ll alter it by and by.
Place. Indeed, madam, it is a miserable state of life; I hope we shall have no such people as tradesmen shortly; I can’t see any use they are of: if I am chose, I’ll bring in a bill to extirpate all trade out of the nation.
Mrs M. Yes, my lord, that would do very well amongst people of quality who don’t want money.
Fust. Again! Sure Mrs Mayoress knows very little of people of quality, considering she has lived amongst them.
Trap. Lord, sir, you are so troublesome. Then she has not lived amongst people of quality, she has lived where I please; but suppose we should suppose she had been woman to a lady of quality, may we not also suppose she was turned away in a fortnight, and then what could she know, sir? Go on, go on.
Place. Alack-a-day, madam, when I mention trade, I only mean low, dull, mechanick trade, such as the canaille practise; there are several trades reputable enough, which people of fashion may practise; such as gaming, intriguing, voting, and running in debt.
Trap. Come, enter a servant, and whisper my lord. [Enter a Servant.] Pray, sir, mind your cue of entrance. [Exit Servant.
Place. Ladies, a particular affair obliges me to lose so good company. I am your most obedient servant. [Exit.
Mrs M. He is a prodigious fine gentleman.
Miss M. But must I go into keeping, mama?
Mrs M. Child, you must do what’s in fashion.
Miss M. But I have heard that’s a naughty thing.
Mrs M. That can’t be if your betters do it; people are punished for doing naughty things, but people of quality are never punished; therefore they never do any naughty things.
Fust. An admirable syllogism, and quite in character.
Trap. Pshaw, dear sir! don’t trouble me with character; it’s a good thing; and if it’s a good thing, what signifies who says it? — Come, enter the mayor drunk.
Enter Mayor.
May. Liberty and property, and no excise, wife.
Mrs M. Ah! filthy beast, come not near me.
May. But I will, though; I am for liberty and property; I’ll vote for no courtiers, wife.
Mrs M. Indeed, but you shall, sir.
Miss M. I hope you won’t vote for a nasty stinking Tory, papa.
May. What a pox! are you for the courtiers too?
Miss M. Yes, I hope I am a friend to my country; I am not for bringing in the pope.
May. No, nor I an’t for a standing army.
Mrs M. But I am for a standing army, sir; a standing army is a good thing: you pretend to be afraid of your liberties and your properties — you are afraid of your wives and daughters: I love to see soldiers in the town; and you may say what you will, I know the town loses nothing by ‘em.
May. The women don’t, I believe.
Mrs M. And I’ll have you know, the women’s wants shall be considered, as well as yours. I think my lord and the colonel do you too much honour in offering to represent such a set of clownish, dirty, beggarly animals — Ah! I wish we women were to choose.
May. Ay, we should have a fine set of members then, indeed.
Mrs M. Yes, sir, you would have none but pretty gentlemen — there should not be one man in the House of Commons without a laced coat.
Miss M. O la! what a delicate, fine, charming sight that would be! Well, I like a laced coat; and if ever I am taken into keeping, it shall be by a man in a laced coat.
May. What’s that you say, minx? What’s that you say?
Mrs M. What’s that to you, sir?
May. Why, madam, must not I speak to my own daughter?
Mrs M. You have the greater obligation to me, sir, if she is: I am sure, if I had thought you would have endeavoured to ruin your family, I would have seen you hanged before you should have had any by me.
May. I ruin my family!
Mrs M. Yes, I have been making your fortune for you with my lord; I have got a place for you, but you won’t accept on’t.
Miss M. You shall accept on’t.
Mrs M. You shall vote for my lord and the colonel.
Miss M. They are the finest men —
Mrs M. The prettiest men —
Miss M. The sweetest men —
Mrs M. And you shall vote for them.
May. I won’t be bribed.
Mrs M. A place is no bribe — ask the parson of the parish if a place is a bribe.
May. What is the place?
Mrs M. I don’t know what the place is, nor my lord does not know what it is, but it is a great swingeing place.
May. I will have the place first. I won’t take a bribe, I will have the place first; liberty and property! I’ll have the place first. [Exit.
Mrs M. Come, my dear, follow me; I’ll see whether he shall vote according to his conscience or mine.
I’ll teach mankind, while policy they boast,
They bear the name of power, we rule the roast.
Trap
. There ends act the second. [Exeunt Mrs and Miss Mayoress.] Mr Fustian, I inculcate a particular moral at the end of every act; and therefore, might have put a particular motto before every one, as the author of Caesar in Egypt has done: thus, sir, my first act sweetly sings, Bribe all; bribe all; and the second gives you to Understand that we are all under petticoat-government; and my third will — but you shall see. Enter my lord Place, colonel Promise, and several voters. My lord, you begin the third act.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 331