by John Dryden
[Exit Lord.
Chr. You made a little too much haste; I was just exchanging a kiss for a ruby.
L. Dupe. No harm done; it will make him come on the faster: Never full gorge an hawk you mean to fly: The next will be a necklace of pearl, I warrant you.
Chr. But what must I do next?
L. Dupe. Tell him I grew suspicious, and examined you whether he made not love; which you denied. Then tell him how my maids and daughters watch you; so that you tremble when you see his lordship.
Chr. And that your daughters are so envious, that they would raise a false report to ruin me.
L. Dupe. Therefore you desire his lordship, as he loves you, of which you are confident, henceforward to forbear his visits to you.
Chr. But how, if he should take me at my word?
L. Dupe. Why, if the worst come to the worst, he leaves you an honest woman, and there’s an end on’t: But fear not that; hold out his messages, and then he’ll write, and that is it, my bird, which you must drive it to: Then all his letters will be such ecstasies, such vows and promises, which you must answer short and simply, yet still ply out of them your advantages.
Chr. But, madam! he’s in the house, he will not write.
L. Dupe. You fool — he’ll write from the next chamber to you; and, rather than fail, send his page post with it, upon a hobby-horse: Then grant a meeting, but tell me of it, and I’ll prevent him by my being there; he’ll curse me, but I care not. When you are alone, he’ll urge his lust, which answer you with scorn and anger.
Chr. As thus an’t please you, madam. What! Does he think I will be damn’d for him? Defame my family, ruin my name, to satisfy his pleasure?
L. Dupe. Then he will be profane in his arguments, urge nature’s laws to you.
Chr. By’r lady, and those are shrewd arguments; but I am resolved I’ll stop my ears.
L. Dupe. Then when he sees no other thing will move you, he’ll sign a portion to you beforehand: Take hold of that, and then of what you will.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Sir John, Mrs Millisent, and Rose.
Sir John. Now, fair Mrs Millisent, you see your chamber; your father will be busy a few minutes, and in the mean time permits me the happiness to wait on you.
Mill. Methinks you might have chose us better lodgings, this house is full; the other, we saw first, was more convenient.
Sir John. For you, perhaps, but not for me: You might have met a lover there, but I a rival.
Mill. What rival?
Sir John. You know Sir Martin, I need not name it to you.
Mill. I know more men besides him.
Sir John. But you love none besides him: Can you deny your affection to him?
Mill. You have vexed me so, I will not satisfy you.
Sir John. Then I perceive I am not likely to be so much obliged to you, as I was to him.
Mill. This is romance — I’ll not believe a word on’t.
Sir John. That’s as you please: However ’tis believed, his wit will not much credit your choice. Madam, do justice to us both; pay his ingratitude and folly with your scorn; my service with your love. By this time your father stays for me: I shall be discreet enough to keep this fault of yours from him; the lawyers wait for us to draw your jointure; and I would beg your pardon for my absence, but that my crime is punished in itself.
[Exit.
Mill. Could I suspect this usage from a favoured servant!
Rose. First hear Sir Martin, ere you quite condemn him; consider, ’tis a rival who accused him.
Mill. Speak not a word in his behalf: Methought too, Sir John called him fool.
Rose. Indeed he has a rare way of acting a fool, and does it so naturally, it can be scarce distinguished.
Mill. Nay, he has wit enough, that’s certain.
Rose. How blind love is!
Enter Warner.
Mill. How now, what’s his business? I wonder, after such a crime, if his master has the face to send him to me.
Rose. How durst you venture hither? If either Sir John or my old master see you! —
Warn. Pish! they are both gone out.
Rose. They went but to the next street; ten to one but they return and catch you here.
Warn. Twenty to one I am gone before, and save them a labour.
Mill. What says that fellow to you? What business can he have here?
Warn. Lord, that your ladyship should ask that question, knowing whom I serve!
Mill. I’ll hear nothing from your master.
Warn. Never breathe, but this anger becomes your ladyship most admirably; but though you’ll hear nothing from him, I hope I may speak a word or two to you from myself, madam.
Rose. ’Twas a sweet prank your master played us: A lady’s well helped up, that trusts her honour in such a person’s hands: To tell also, —— and to his rival too. Excuse him if thou canst.
[Aside.
Warn. How the devil should I excuse him? Thou know’st he is the greatest fop in nature.
[Aside to Rose.
Rose. But my lady does not know it; if she did —
Mill. I’ll have no whispering.
Warn. Alas, madam, I have not the confidence to speak out, unless you can take mercy on me.
Mill. For what?
Warn. For telling Sir John you loved my master, madam. But sure I little thought he was his rival.
Rose. The witty rogue has taken it on himself.
[Aside.
Mill. Your master then is innocent?
Warn. Why, could your ladyship suspect him guilty? Pray tell me, do you think him ungrateful, or a fool?
Mill. I think him neither.
Warn. Take it from me, you see not the depth of him. But when he knows what thoughts you harbour of him, as I am faithful, and must tell him, I wish he does not take some pet, and leave you.
Mill. Thou art not mad, I hope, to tell him on’t; if thou dost, I’ll be sworn, I’ll forswear it to him.
Warn. Upon condition then you’ll pardon me, I’ll see what I can do to hold my tongue.
Mill. This evening, in St James’s Park, I’ll meet him.
[Knock within.
Warn. He shall not fail you, madam.
Rose. Somebody knocks — Oh, madam, what shall we do! ’Tis Sir John, I hear his voice.
Warn. What will become of me?
Mill. Step quickly behind that door.
[Warner goes out.
To them Sir John.
Mill. You’ve made a quick despatch, sir.
Sir John. We have done nothing, madam; our man of law was not within — but I must look for some writings.
Mill. Where are they laid?
Sir John. In the portmanteau in the drawing-room.
[Is going to the door.
Mill. Pray stay a little, sir.
Warn. [At the door.] He must pass just by me; and, if he sees me, I am but a dead man.
Sir John. Why are you thus concerned? why do you hold me?
Mill. Only a word or two I have to tell you. ’Tis of importance to you.
Sir John. Give me leave —
Mill. I must not, before I discover the plot to you.
Sir John. What plot?
Mill. Sir Martin’s servant, like a rogue, comes hither to tempt me from his master, to have met him.
Warn. [At the door.] Now, would I had a good bag of gunpowder at my breech, to ram me into some hole!
Mill. For my part, I was so startled at the message, that I shall scarcely be myself these two days.
Sir John. Oh that I had the rascal! I would teach him to come upon such errands.
Warn. Oh for a gentle composition, now! An arm or leg I would give willingly.
Sir John. What answer did you make the villain?
Mill. I over-reached him clearly, by a promise of an appointment of a place I named, where I never meant to come: But would have had the pleasure, first, to tell you how I served him.
Sir John. And then to c
hide your mean suspicion of me; indeed I wondered you should love a fool. But where did you appoint to meet him?
Mill. In Grays-Inn walks.
Warn. By this light, she has put the change upon him! O sweet womankind, how I love thee for that heavenly gift of lying!
Sir John. For this evening I will be his mistress; he shall meet another Penelope than he suspects.
Mill. But stay not long away.
Sir John. You overjoy me, madam.
[Exit.
Warn. [Entering.] Is he gone, madam?
Mill. As far as Grays-Inn walks: Now I have time to walk the other way, and see thy master.
Warn. Rather let him come hither: I have laid a plot, shall send his rival far enough from watching him, ere long.
Mill. Art thou in earnest?
Warn. ’Tis so designed, fate cannot hinder it. Our landlord, where we lie, vexed that his lodgings should be so left by Sir John, is resolved to be revenged, and I have found the way. You’ll see the effects on’t presently.
Rose. O heavens! the door opens again, and Sir John is returned once more.
Enter Sir John.
Sir John. Half my business was forgot; you did not tell me when you were to meet him. Ho! what makes this rascal here?
Warn. ’Tis well you’re come, sir, else I must have left untold a message I have for you.
Sir John. Well, what’s your business, sirrah?
Warn. We must be private first; ’tis only for your ear.
Rose. I shall admire his wit, if in this plunge he can get off.
Warn. I came hither, sir, by my master’s order, —
Sir John. I’ll reward you for it, sirrah, immediately.
Warn. When you know all, I shall deserve it, sir: I came to sound the virtue of your mistress: which I have done so cunningly, I have at last obtained the promise of a meeting. But my good master, whom I must confess more generous than wise, knowing you had a passion for her, is resolved to quit: And, sir, that you may see how much he loves you, sent me in private to advise you still to have an eye upon her actions.
Sir John. Take this diamond for thy good news; and give thy master my acknowledgments.
Warn. Thus the world goes, my masters! he, that will cozen you, commonly gets your goodwill into the bargain.
[Aside.
Sir John. Madam, I am now satisfied of all sides; first of your truth, then of Sir Martin’s friendship. In short, I find you two cheated each other, both to be true to me.
Mill. Warner is got off as I would wish, and the knight over-reached.
[Aside.
Enter to them the Landlord, disguised like a carrier.
Rose. How now! what would this carrier have?
Warn. This is our landlord, whom I told you of; but keep your countenance.
[Aside to her.
Land. I was looking hereaway for one Sir John Swallow; they told me, I might hear news of him in this house.
Sir John. Friend, I am the man; what have you to say to me?
Land. Nay, faith, sir, I am not so good a schollard to say much, but I have a letter for you in my pouch, there’s plaguy news in it, I can tell you that.
Sir John. From whom is your letter?
Land. From your old uncle Anthony.
Sir John. Give me your letter quickly.
Land. Nay, soft and fair goes far. — Hold you, hold you. It is not in this pocket.
Sir John. Search in the other, then; I stand on thorns.
Land. I think I feel it now, this should be who.
Sir John. Pluck it out then.
Land. I’ll pluck out my spectacles, and see first. [Reads.] To Mr Paul Grimbard — apprentice to —— No, that’s not for you, sir — that’s for the son of the brother of the nephew of the cousin of my gossip Dobson.
Sir John. Pr’ythee despatch; dost thou not know the contents on’t?
Land. Yes, as well as I do my pater noster.
Sir John. Well, what’s the business on’t?
Land. Nay, no great business; ’tis but only that your worship’s father’s dead.
Sir John. My loss is beyond expression! How died he?
Land. He went to bed as well to see to as any man in England; and when he awakened the next morning —
Sir John. What then?
Land. He found himself stark dead.
Sir John. Well, I must of necessity take orders for my father’s funeral, and my estate; heaven knows with what regret I leave you, madam.
Mill. But are you in such haste, sir? I see you take all occasions to be from me.
Sir John. Dear madam, say not so: a few days will, I hope, return me to you.
To them Sir Martin.
Noble Sir Martin, the welcomest man alive! let me embrace my friend.
Rose. How untowardly he returns the salute! Warner will be found out.
[Aside.
Sir John. Well, friend! you have obliged me to you eternally.
Sir Mart. How have I obliged you, sir? I would have you to know I scorn your words; and I would I were hanged if it be not the farthest of my thoughts.
Mill. O cunning youth, he acts the fool most naturally. Were we alone, how would we laugh together!
[Aside.
Sir John. This is a double generosity, to do me favours, and conceal ‘em from me; but honest Warner here has told me all.
Sir Mart. What has the rascal told you?
Sir John. Your plot to try my mistress for me — you understand me, concerning your appointment.
Warn. Sir, I desire to speak in private with you.
Sir Mart. This impertinent rascal! when I am most busy, I am ever troubled with him.
Warn. But it concerns you I should speak with you, good sir.
Sir Mart. That’s a good one, i’faith; thou knowest breeding well, that I should whisper with a serving-man before company.
Warn. Remember, sir, last time it had been better ——
Sir Mart. Peace, or I’ll make you feel my double fists; If I don’t fright him, the saucy rogue will call me fool before the company.
Mill. That was acted most naturally again.
[Aside.
Sir John. [To him.] But what needs this dissembling, since you are resolved to quit my mistress to me?
Sir Mart. I quit my mistress! that’s a good one, i’faith.
Mill. Tell him you have forsaken me.
[Aside.
Sir Mart. I understand you, madam, you would save a quarrel; but, i’faith, I’m not so base: I’ll see him hanged first.
Warn. Madam, my master is convinced, in prudence he should say so: But love o’ermasters him; when you are gone perhaps he may.
Mill. I’ll go then: Gentlemen, your servant; I see my presence brings constraint to the company.
[Exeunt Mill. and Rose.
Sir John. I’m glad she’s gone; now we may talk more freely; for if you have not quitted her, you must.
Warn. Pray, sir, remember yourself: did not you send me of a message to Sir John, that for his friendship you had left mistress Millisent?
Sir Mart. Why, what an impudent lying rogue art thou!
Sir John. How’s this! Has Warner cheated me?
Warn. Do not suspect it in the least: You know, sir, it was not generous, before a lady, to say he quitted her.
Sir John O! was that it?
Warn. That was all: Say yes, good Sir John — or I’ll swinge you.
[Aside.
Sir Mart. Yes, good Sir John.
Warn. That’s well; once in his life he has heard good counsel.
Sir Mart. Heigh, heigh, what makes my landlord here? He has put on a fool’s coat, I think, to make us laugh.
Warn. The devil’s in him, he’s at it again; his folly’s like a sore in a surfeited horse; cure it in one place, and it breaks out in another.
Sir Mart. Honest landlord, i’faith, and what makes you here?
Sir John. Are you acquainted with this honest man?
Land. Take heed what you say, sir.
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br /> [To Sir Mart. softly.
Sir Mart. Take heed what you say, sir! Why? who should I be afraid of? of you, sir? I say, sir, I know him, sir; and I have reason to know him, sir; for I am sure I lodge in his house, sir — nay, never think to terrify me, sir; ’tis my landlord here in Charles-street, sir.
Land. Now I expect to be paid for the news I brought him.
Sir John. Sirrah, did not you tell me that my father —
Land. Is in very good health, for aught I know, sir; I beseech you to trouble yourself no farther concerning him.
Sir John. Who set you on to tell this lie?
Sir Mart. Ay, who set you on, sirrah? This was a rogue that would cozen us both; he thought I did not know him: Down on your marrowbones, and confess the truth: Have you no tongue, you rascal?
Sir John. Sure ’tis some silenced minister: He grows so fat he cannot speak.
Land. Why, sir, if you would know, ’twas for your sake I did it.
Warn. For my master’s sake! why, you impudent varlet, do you think to ‘scape us with a lye?
Sir John. How was it for his sake?
Warn. ’Twas for his own, sir; he heard you were the occasion the lady lodged not at his house, and so he invented this lie; partly to revenge himself of you; and partly, I believe, in hope to get her once again when you were gone.
Sir John. Fetch me a cudgel, pr’ythee.
Land. O good sir! if you beat me, I shall run into oil immediately.
Warn. Hang him, rogue; he’s below your anger: I’ll maul him for you — the rogue’s so big, I think ‘twill ask two days to beat him all over.
[Beats him.
Land. O rogue! O villain, Warner! bid him hold, and I’ll confess, sir.
Warn. Get you gone without replying: must such as you be prating?
[Beats him out.
Enter Rose.
Rose. Sir, dinner waits you on the table.
Sir John. Friend, will you go along, and take part of a bad repast?
Sir Mart. Thank you; but I am just risen from table.
Warn. Now he might sit with his mistress, and has not the wit to find it out.
Sir John. You shall be very welcome.
Sir Mart. I have no stomach, sir.
Warn. Get you in with a vengeance: You have a better stomach than you think you have.
[Pushes him.
Sir Mart. This hungry Diego rogue would shame me; he thinks a gentleman can eat like a serving-man.