MILLAMOUR. My heart reproaches me with no action of my life, equal with my behaviour to Clarinda, and I would do any thing to make her amends.
MRS. USEFUL. Could not your heart have reproached you sooner, before you had made me accessory to the cheat you intend to put upon her?
MILLAMOUR. What cheat?
MRS. USEFUL. The worst cheat that can be put upon her. What, sir! do you think she hath no expectations from you?
MILLAMOUR. If she hath, her husband will answer them.
MRS. USEFUL. Her husband! her husband won’t, nor can’t answer them —
MILLAMOUR. I am not inclined to jest —
MRS. USEFUL. Nor am I; but I think you are. What would you say of a man, who would sail to the Indies, and, when he was just come in sight of his port, tack about and return without touching? Have not you been sailing several years into the arms of your mistress, and now she holds them open, you refuse — What! did you court her only to refuse in your turn? To refuse her when she is expecting, wishing, longing —
MILLAMOUR. And do you really think her as you say?
MRS. USEFUL. What could move her else to lay such a plot as she has done? To pretend herself sick, that you might be sent for as her physician? But you would play the physician with her, and make her distemper real.
MILLAMOUR. If I thought that —
MRS. USEFUL. What can you think else? Can any thing hurt a woman equal with being refused?
MILLAMOUR. Refused! what, giving up her matchless beauty to my longing arms!’Sdeath, he is not of flesh and blood who could refuse. Thou dearest woman! and dost thou think she will consent? — Dost thou think my happiness so near?
MRS. USEFUL. I know it must be; but —
MILLAMOUR. But what?
MRS. USEFUL. You had better make her a reparation for what’s past, and see her no more.
MILLAMOUR. Reparation! ay, so I will. All that love, transporting, eager, wanton, raving love can give. Heartfort, you must excuse me: business, sir, business of very great importance calls me away.
HEARTFORT. I can guess your business by your company.
MILLAMOUR. Come, my dear Useful, convey me, quick as my desires, where only they can meet full satisfaction. Let me enjoy Clarinda, — and — then —
MRS. USEFUL. And then — perhaps you may keep your word, and never see her any more. [Exeunt Mrs. Useful and Millamour.
HEARTFORT. There goes an instance of the great power our reason hath over our passions. But hold, — why should I seek instances abroad, who have so sufficient an example in my own breast? Where, had reason the dominion, I should have long since expelled the little tyrant, who hath made such ravage there. Of what use is reason then? Why, of the use that a window is to a man in a prison, to let him see the horrors he is confined in; but lends him no assistance to his escape.
SCENE V
MR. STEDFAST’S House.
CLARINDA, CHARLOTTE.
CLARINDA. Oh, Charlotte! let no passion prevail on you to throw yourself away on a person you despise. Marriage knows no release but death. Had I the world, I would give it to recall mine.
CHARLOTTE. You see, Clarinda, it is easier to give advice than to take it.
CLARINDA. You are not in my situation. Think, my Charlotte, think but of the danger I was in, against the daily solicitations of a man who had so great a friend within my breast. My little fortune spent. A friendless, helpless orphan. The very man I loved, with whom I must at least have shared poverty, refusing to make me the honourable partner of his bed! What could Charlotte then have done? Would you have then refused a rich, an honourable lover?
CHARLOTTE. Hum! agad, I don’t know what I should have done. Heaven forbid it should be my case. I should not have taken the old fellow, I am positive.
CLARINDA. Oh, my dear Charlotte! never let any thing tempt you to forfeit the paths of honour.
CHARLOTTE. And yet, my dear Clarinda, you can feign yourself sick to see your lover. Pray, my dear, how doth a woman’s honour do when she is sick to see her gallant?
CLARINDA. Indeed you wrong me. The terror I have of your father’s bed put me on the feigning this sickness, which will soon be real. For as to Millamour, I have determined never to see him more.
CHARLOTTE. Nay, I will swear I saw Useful take a chair and go for him, as your physician, by my father’s order.
CLARINDA. You surprise me! O that wicked woman, who hath been the occasion of all my misfortunes, and is determined to persecute me to the last minute.
CHARLOTTE. There is somewhat in her which I dislike, and have often wondered why you would indulge her in the freedom she takes.
CLARINDA. Oh, Charlotte, in distressed circumstances, how easily can impudence get the ascendant over us? Besides, this woman, of whom I now have your opinion, can outwardly act a saint, as well as inwardly a devil. What defence hath the ignorance of twenty against the experienced arts of such a woman? Believe me, I thank heaven I have escaped so well, rather than wonder I have not escaped better.
CHARLOTTE. Well, honoured madam, if your daughter-in-law may presume to advise, rest contented with the honour you have already attained; for, if you should be overthrown but in one battle, there’s an end of all your former conquests. But hush, hush! to your chair. My father is coming up.
SCENE VI.
MR. STEDFAST, CLARINDA, CHARLOTTE.
MR. STEDFAST. Well, madam, how do you now?
CHARLOTTE. My mother is extremely ill, sir.
MR. STEDFAST. I did not ask you — How do you do, child?
CLARINDA. Oh!
MR. STEDFAST. Oh! This is the most comfortable wedding-day, sure, that ever man had. Well, the doctor will be here presently.
CHARLOTTE. Sir, the last words mamma spoke were, she desired she might not see the doctor.
MR. STEDFAST. Yes, madam; but the last words I speak are that she shall see him.
CLARINDA. No doctor — No doctor!
Enter MRS. USEFUL and MILLAMOUR.
MRS. USEFUL. [Introducing Millamour.] Sir, here’s the doctor.
MR. STEDFAST. I am glad you are come, sir: my wife is extremely ill — Go to her. Physicians should make a little more haste.
MILLAMOUR. Give me your hand, if you please, madam?
MR. STEDFAST. How do you do, child?
CLARINDA. Oh!
MR. STEDFAST. That’s all I have been able to get of her, Doctor; she is not able to tell you even how she doth.
MRS. USEFUL. [Aside.] A true physician, faith! He feels for her pulse in her palm.
MR. STEDFAST. How do you find her, Doctor?
MILLAMOUR. Truly, sir, I wish there may not be more danger in the case than is imagined.
MR. STEDFAST. Nay, the world shall not say she died for want of assistance. I will go send for another.
MILLAMOUR. O sir! there’s no need for that — I can trust to my own skill.
MR. STEDFAST. I’m resolved.
MRS. USEFUL. Come, madam; we’ll leave the doctor to his patient.
SCENE VII.
CLARINDA, MILLAMOUR.
MILLAMOUR. Oh, speak to me. Clarinda — Whisper something tender to my soul, or I shall die before thee.
CLARINDA. Thou hast undone me, Millamour.
MILLAMOUR. Then I have undone myself — Myself! — What’s that to having ruined thee? I would be ages expiring to preserve thee. My dear! my only love! Too late I see the follies of my life. I see the fatal consequence of my ungoverned, lawless passion.
CLARINDA. Oh! had thy eyes but yesterday been opened, but now it is too late.
MILLAMOUR. TOO late! I will put back the hand of time. Oh, think it not too late. O couldst thou but recover; thy marriage could not, should not keep us from being happy.
CLARINDA. Alas, my disease is but a poor pretence to see you once again to take this last farewell.
MILLAMOUR. Thou angel of softness! Thou fountain of eternal sweets! To take a last farewell! Then I will bid farewell to life, Clarinda. Life, which I will not endure with
out thee. Witness heaven, that could I but recall blest yesterday again, I would not slight the offers of thy virtuous love, for the whole world of beauty, or of wealth! O fool! to trifle with so vast a blessing till it was snatched from thee! Yet since we cannot be what we wish, let us be what we can.
CLARINDA. No, Millamour, never with the forfeit of my honour. I will lose my life: nay, what I value much more, rather than quit that idol of my soul, I will lose you.
SCENE VIII.
MILLAMOUR, CLARINDA, CHARLOTTE, MRS. USEFUL, MR.
STEDFAST, DR. CRISIS.
MRS. USEFUL. Hush, hush — to your posts, to your posts.
MR. STEDFAST. [Introducing Crisis.] Doctor, that is your patient, and heaven direct your judgment.
DR. CRISIS. Sir, sir, harkye, who’s that? I observed him feel her pulse.
MR. STEDFAST. That is a brother physician, sir.
DR. CRISIS. Ay, what is his name?
MR. STEDFAST. Doctor, Doctor Crisis desires to know your name.
MILLAMOUR. My name! name — My name is Gruel.
DR. CRISIS. Gruel, I don’t know him, nor do I remember his name in the college. Some quack, I suppose. — Sir, I’m your humble servant.
MR. STEDFAST. Stay, stay, dear Doctor.
DR. CRISIS. Sir, I will consult with no quacks: Sir, I have not studied physic so long, to consult with a quack; wherefore have we a college of physicians, if we are to call quacks to our assistance?
MR. STEDFAST. For heaven’s sake, Doctor, my wife will die.
DR. CRISIS. Sir, I can’t help it, if half the world were to die, unless that man were out of the room, I will have nothing to do: and that I am resolved.
MR. STEDFAST. If you come to that, sir, I am resolved he shall not be sent out of the room. I would not send him out of the room to save my wife’s life: No, nor scarce to save my own life. So see whose resolution will be broke first, yours or mine — Resolved, quotha.
DR. CRISIS. Here, John, my coach! to the door — consult with a quack!
MR. STEDFAST. Doctor, pray return my fee.
DR. CRISIS. Sir, your humble servant. [Exit.
MILLAMOUR. I hope, sir, we shall not want his advice. I apprehend the distemper to be now some moments past the crisis, and in half an hour, I may possibly send you the happy news of your wife’s being out of danger. But it is entirely necessary she should go to bed, and then I will go and see her. [Enter Servant, who whispers Stedfast.
MR. STEDFAST. Doctor, you will excuse me a few minutes — A lady wants me below stairs. [Exit.
MILLAMOUR. Come, nurse; you must put your patient to bed, and then I’ll visit her again.
CLARINDA. Never, never, Millamour. Never from this hour will I behold that face again: that fatal cause of all my misery.
MILLAMOUR. Barbarous Clarinda! Can I be knowingly the cause of one misfortune to you, when I would not purchase the world with one sigh of thine?
CLARIRDA. Thy conversation is dangerous to my honour: and henceforth I will fly thee as the worst of contagions. Farewell — And think you have lost a woman who durst not, from her tenderness, ever see thee more. [Exit.
MILLAMOUR. O agony! O Clarinda!
MRS. USEFUL. Ha, ha, ha! — That ever a man, who knows so much of the sex as Mr. Millamour, should despair at the very brink of victory!
MILLAMOUR. ‘Sdeath — Did she not say she’d never see me more?
MRS. USEFUL. Well, and hath she not said so a hundred times; and seen you as often? — Did she not say she durst not see you more? Women are all cowards, and dare not do any thing unless they are forced to it. I tell you she is wishing, sighing for you. Honour and love have a conflict within her breast, and if you stand by the little gentleman, I’ll hold a thousand pounds he gets the better.
MILLAMOUR. No more of this foolery. Thou hast undone us both: and, by heavens, I will be revenged on thee. I will expose thee to all mankind, as thy infamy deserves, till every wretched maid shall curse thee, every honest woman despise thee, and every boy that meets thee shall hoot thee through the world.
MRS. USEFUL. Is this my reward?
MILLAMOUR. Reward! There is none in law or justice equal to thy deserts. Thou art a more mischievous animal than a serpent; and the man or woman who admits one of thy detestable character into his house or acquaintance, acts more foolishly than he who admits a serpent into his bosom. A public mark of infamy should be set on every such wretch, that we might shun them as a contagion. Never see me more; for if thou dost, I shall forego the dignity of my sex to punish thee. O Clarinda! I will pursue thee still: for next to having thee mine is leaving my life at thy feet.
MRS. USEFUL. Very fine! I have no more to do here at present. Such encouragement will tempt me to grow honest and quit my employment.
SCENE IX.
MR. STEDFAST, MRS. PLOTWELL.
MR. STEDFAST. A very pretty reasonable gentleman, truly. Would not one woman content him? Must he have my wife and daughter too? would he have my whole family? Madam, I know not how to return this obligation, which the great concern you have showed for my honour hath laid upon me.
MRS. PLOTWELL. Can you not find then in this face something which might give you a reason for that concern? Look steadfastly on me, and tell me if you remember no mark in these features which were once known to you?
MR. STEDFAST. There’s something in that voice, that —
MRS. PLOTWELL. That once was music in your ears, if ever you spoke truth to Cleomela.
MR. STEDFAST. Cleomela!
MRS. PLOTWELL. Are there then any horrors in that name? Age certainly hath left no furrows there, however it hath altered this unhappy face. Still, if remembrance of past joys be sweet, the name of Cleomela should be so.
MR. STEDFAST. I am so surprised! I scarce have reason left to recollect you.
MRS. PLOTWELL. Be not terrified. I come not to upbraid you; to thunder any injuries in your ears, nor breach of promise.
MR. STEDFAST. You know you cannot. It was your own fault prevented my fulfilling them. Would you have changed your religion, you know my resolutions were to have married you. And you know my resolutions were never to marry you, unless you did. You kept your religion, and I my resolution.
MRS. PLOTWELL. How easily men find excuses to avoid what they dislike! But that is past; nor do I come to claim the fulfilling it.
MR. STEDFAST. No, Heaven hath taken care to put that out of my power; as this letter hath told you before.
MRS. PLOTWELL. I assure you, sir, the contents of that letter I am a stranger to.
MR. STEDFAST. Are you? then pray read it — for I intend to make them no secret. [Plotwell takes the letter, reads, and shows much surprise.]
SCENE X.
MILLAMOUR, MR. STEDFAST, MRS. PLOTWELL.
MILLAMOUR. Oh! sir, the most unfortunate news.
MR. STEDFAST. What’s the matter?
MILLAMOUR. Your lady is relapsed into the most violent fit of madness; and I question much whether she will ever speak again.
MR. STEDFAST. She hath no need. She hath hands to write her mind. Nay, were they cut off too, she would find some other means. She would invent as strange methods to betray the lewdness of her mind as Lavinia did to discover her injury.
MILLAMOUR. Hey-day! Your wife hath infected you with madness.
MR. STEDFAST. Yes, my wife hath infected me indeed. It breaks out here [pointing to his head].
MILLAMOUR. What can be the meaning of this? I am sorry to see this, sir. Very sorry to hear this. This is no common distemper.
MR. STEDFAST. No! I thought cuckoldom the most general distemper in the kingdom.
SCENE XI.
MR. MUTABLE, Me. STEDFAST, Millamour, Mes.
PLOTWELL.
MR. MUTABLE. Odso! Mr. Stedfast, I am sorry to hear your lady is ill.
MR. STEDFAST. It is probable you may; for you and I are not likely to be sorry on the same occasion.
MR. MUTABLE. No, it is not — Yes, it is — it is impossible — Agad! ‘Tis he— ‘t
is — my dear Lord Truelove. I’m your most obedient humble servant.
MR. STEDFAST. My Lord Truelove?
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 361