John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Aldo. Unconscionable villain, to cozen you in your own calling!

  Mrs Term. When he loses upon the square, he comes home zoundsing and blooding; first beats me unmercifully, and then squeezes me to the last penny. He has used me so, that, Gad forgive me, I could almost forswear my trade. The rogue starves me too: He made me keep Lent last year till Whitsuntide, 073 and out-faced me with oaths it was but Easter. And what mads me most, I carry a bastard of the rogue’s in my belly; and now he turns me off, and will not own it.

  Mrs Over. Lord, how it quops! you are half a year gone, madam. — [Laying her hand on her belly.

  Mrs Term. I feel the young rascal kicking already, like his father. — Oh, there is an elbow thrusting out: I think, in my conscience, he is palming and topping in my belly; and practising for a livelihood, before he comes into the world.

  Aldo. Geoffery, set her down in the register, that I may provide her a mid-wife, and a dry and wet nurse: When you are up again, as heaven send you a good hour, we will pay him off at law, i’faith. You have him under black and white, I hope?

  Mrs Term. Yes, I have a note under his hand for two hundred pounds.

  Aldo. A note under his hand! that is a chip in porridge; it is just nothing. — Look, Geoffery, to the figure 12, for old half-shirts for childbed linen.

  Enter Mrs Hackney.

  Hack. O, madam Termagant, are you here? Justice, father Aldo, justice!

  Aldo. Why, what is the matter, daughter Hackney?

  Hack. She has violated the law of nations; for yesterday she inveigled my own natural cully from me, a married lord, and made him false to my bed, father.

  Term. Come, you are an illiterate whore. He is my lord now; and, though you call him fool, it is well known he is a critic, gentlewoman. You never read a play in all your life; and I gained him by my wit, and so I’ll keep him.

  Hack. My comfort is, I have had the best of him; 074 he can take up no more, till his father dies: And so, much good may do you with my cully, and my clap into the bargain.

  Aldo. Then there is a father for your child, my lord’s son and heir by Mr Caster. But henceforward, to preserve peace betwixt you, I ordain, that you shall ply no more in my daughter Hackney’s quarters: You shall have the city, from White-Chapel to Temple-Bar, and she shall have to Covent-Garden downwards: At the play-houses, she shall ply the boxes, because she has the better face; and you shall have the pit, because you can prattle best out of a vizor mask.

  Mrs Pad. Then all friends, and confederates. Now let us have father Aldo’s delight, and so adjourn the house.

  Aldo. Well said, daughter. — Lift up your voices, and sing like nightingales, you tory rory jades. Courage, I say; as long as the merry pence hold out, you shall none of you die in Shoreditch.

  Enter Woodall.

  A hey, boys, a hey! here he comes, that will swinge you all! down, you little jades, and worship him; it is the genius of whoring.

  Wood. And down went chairs and table, and out went every candle. Ho, brave old patriarch in the middle of the church militant! whores of all sorts; forkers and ruin-tailed: Now come I gingling in with my bells, and fly at the whole covey.

  Aldo. A hey, a hey, boys! the town’s thy own; burn, ravish, and destroy!

  Wood. We will have a night of it, like Alexander, when he burnt Persepolis: tuez, tuez, tuez! point de quartier.

  [He runs in amongst them, and they scuttle about the room.

  Enter Saintly, Pleasance, Judith, with Broom-sticks.

  Saint. What, in the midst of Sodom! O thou lewd young man! my indignation boils over against these harlots; and thus I sweep them from out my family.

  Pleas. Down with the Suburbians, down with them.

  Aldo. O spare my daughters, Mrs Saintly! Sweet Mrs Pleasance, spare my flesh and blood!

  Wood. Keep the door open, and help to secure the retreat, father: There is no pity to be expected.

  [The Whores run out, followed by Saintly, Pleasance, and Judith.

  Aldo. Welladay, welladay! one of my daughters is big with bastard, and she laid at her gascoins most unmercifully! every stripe she had, I felt it: The first fruit of whoredom is irrecoverably lost!

  Wood. Make haste, and comfort her.

  Aldo. I will, I will; and yet I have a vexatious business, which calls me first another way. The rogue, my son, is certainly come over; he has been seen in town four days ago.

  Wood. It is impossible: I’ll not believe it.

  Aldo. A friend of mine met his old man, Giles, this very morning, in quest of me; and Giles assured him, his master is lodged in this very street.

  Wood. In this very street! how knows he that?

  Aldo. He dogged him to the corner of it; and then my son turned back, and threatened him. But I’ll find out Giles, and then I’ll make such an example of my reprobate!

  [Exit.

  Wood. If Giles be discovered, I am undone! — Why, Gervase, where are you, sirrah! Hey, hey!

  Enter Gervase.

  Run quickly to that betraying rascal Giles, a rogue, who would take Judas’s bargain out of his hands, and undersell him. Command him strictly to mew himself up in his lodgings, till farther orders: and in case he be refractory, let him know, I have not forgot to kick and cudgel. That memento would do well for you too, sirrah.

  Gerv. Thank your worship; you have always been liberal of your hands to me.

  Wood. And you have richly deserved it.

  Gerv. I will not say, who has better deserved it of my old master.

  Wood. Away, old Epictetus, about your business, and leave your musty morals, or I shall —

  Gerv. Nay, I won’t forfeit my own wisdom so far as to suffer for it. Rest you merry: I’ll do my best, and heaven mend all.

  [Exit.

  Enter Saintly.

  Saint. Verily, I have waited till you were alone, and am come to rebuke you, out of the zeal of my spirit.

  Wood. It is the spirit of persecution. Dioclesian, and Julian the apostate, were but types of thee. Get thee hence, thou old Geneva testament: thou art a part of the ceremonial law, and hast been abolished these twenty years.

  Saint. All this is nothing, sir. I am privy to your plots: I’ll discover them to Mr Limberham, and make the house too hot for you.

  Wood. What, you can talk in the language of the world, I see!

  Saint. I can, I can, sir; and in the language of the flesh and devil too, if you provoke me to despair: You must, and shall be mine, this night.

  Wood. The very ghost of queen Dido in the ballad.

  Saint. Delay no longer, or —

  Wood. Or! you will not swear, I hope?

  Saint. Uds-niggers but I will; and that so loud, that Mr Limberham shall hear me.

  Wood. Uds-niggers, I confess, is a very dreadful oath. You could lie naturally before, as you are a fanatic; if you can swear such rappers too, there is hope of you; you may be a woman of the world in time. Well, you shall be satisfied, to the utmost farthing, to-night, and in your own chamber.

  Saint. Or, expect to-morrow —

  Wood. All shall be atoned ere then. Go, provide the bottle of clary, the Westphalia ham, and other fortifications of nature; we shall see what may be done. What! an old woman must not be cast away.

  [Chucks her.

  Saint. Then, verily, I am appeased.

  Wood. Nay, no relapsing into verily; that is in our bargain. Look how she weeps for joy! It is a good old soul, I warrant her.

  Saint. You will not fail?

  Wood. Dost thou think I have no compassion for thy gray hairs? Away, away; our love may be discovered: We must avoid scandal; it is thy own maxim.

  [Exit Saintly.

  They are all now at ombre; and Brainsick’s maid has promised to send her mistress up.

  Enter Pleasance.

  That fury here again!

  Pleas. [Aside.] I’ll conquer my proud spirit, I am resolved on it, and speak kindly to him. — What, alone, sir! If my company be not troublesome; or a tender young creature, as I a
m, may safely trust herself with a man of such prowess, in love affairs — It wonnot be.

  Wood. So! there is one broadside already: I must sheer off.[Aside.

  Pleas. What, you have been pricking up and down here upon a cold scent; but, at last, you have hit it off, it seems! Now for a fair view at the wife or mistress: up the wind, and away with it: Hey, Jowler! — I think I am bewitched, I cannot hold.

  Wood. Your servant, your servant, madam: I am in a little haste at present.[Going.

  Pleas. Pray resolve me first, for which of them you lie in ambush; for, methinks, you have the mien of a spider in her den. Come, I know the web is spread, and whoever comes, Sir Cranion stands ready to dart out, hale her in, and shed his venom.

  Wood. [Aside.] But such a terrible wasp, as she, will spoil the snare, if I durst tell her so.

  Pleas. It is unconscionably done of me, to debar you the freedom and civilities of the house. Alas, poor gentleman! to take a lodging at so dear a rate, and not to have the benefit of his bargain! — Mischief on me, what needed I have said that?

  [Aside.

  Wood. The dialogue will go no farther. Farewell, gentle, quiet lady.

  Pleas. Pray stay a little; I’ll not leave you thus.

  Wood. I know it; and therefore mean to leave you first.

  Pleas. O, I find it now! you are going to set up 079 your bills, like a love-mountebank, for the speedy cure of distressed widows, old ladies, and languishing maids in the green-sickness: a sovereign remedy.

  Wood. That last, for maids, would be thrown away: Few of your age are qualified for the medicine. What the devil would you be at, madam?

  Pleas. I am in the humour of giving you good counsel. The wife can afford you but the leavings of a fop; and to a witty man, as you think yourself, that is nauseous: The mistress has fed upon a fool so long, she is carrion too, and common into the bargain. Would you beat a ground for game in the afternoon, when my lord mayor’s pack had been before you in the morning?

  Wood. I had rather sit five hours at one of his greasy feasts, then hear you talk.

  Pleas. Your two mistresses keep both shop and warehouse; and what they cannot put off in gross, to the keeper and the husband, they sell by retail to the next chance-customer. Come, are you edified?

  Wood. I am considering how to thank you for your homily; and, to make a sober application of it, you may have some laudable design yourself in this advice.

  Pleas. Meaning, some secret inclination to that amiable person of yours?

  Wood. I confess, I am vain enough to hope it; for why should you remove the two dishes, but to make me fall more hungrily on the third?

  Pleas. Perhaps, indeed, in the way of honour —

  Wood. Paw, paw! that word honour has almost turned my stomach: it carries a villainous interpretation of matrimony along with it. But, in a civil way, I could be content to deal with you, as the church does with the heads of your fanatics, offer you a lusty benefice to stop your mouth; if fifty 080 guineas, and a courtesy more worth, will win you.

  Pleas. Out upon thee! fifty guineas! Dost thou think I’ll sell myself? And at a playhouse price too? Whenever I go, I go all together: No cutting from the whole piece; he who has me shall have the fag-end with the rest, I warrant him. Be satisfied, thy sheers shall never enter into my cloth. But, look to thyself, thou impudent belswagger: I will he revenged; I will.

  [Exit.

  Wood. The maid will give warning, that is my comfort; for she is bribed on my side. I have another kind of love to this girl, than to either of the other two; but a fanatic’s daughter, and the noose of matrimony, are such intolerable terms! O, here she comes, who will sell me better cheap.

  SCENE opens to Brainsick’s Apartment.

  Enter Mrs Brainsick.

  Mrs Brain. How now, sir? what impudence is this of yours, to approach my lodgings?

  Wood. You lately honoured mine; and it is the part of a well-bred man, to return your visit.

  Mrs Brain. If I could have imagined how base a fellow you had been, you should not then have been troubled with my company.

  Wood. How could I guess, that you intended me the favour, without first acquainting me?

  Mrs Brain. Could I do it, ungrateful as you are, with more obligation to you, or more hazard to myself, than by putting my note into your glove?

  Wood. Was it yours, then? I believed it came from Mrs Tricksy.

  Mrs Brain. You wished it so; which made you so easily believe it. I heard the pleasant dialogue betwixt you.

  Wood. I am glad you did; for you could not but observe, with how much care I avoided all occasions 081 of railing at you; to which she urged me, like a malicious woman, as she was.

  Mrs Brain. By the same token, you vowed and swore never to look on Mrs Brainsick!

  Wood. But I had my mental reservations in a readiness. I had vowed fidelity to you before; and there went my second oath, i’faith: it vanished in a twinkling, and never gnawed my conscience in the least.

  Mrs Brain. Well, I shall never heartily forgive you.

  Jud. [Within.] Mr Brainsick, Mr Brainsick, what do you mean, to make my lady lose her game thus? Pray, come back, and take up her cards again.

  Mrs Brain. My husband, as I live! Well, for all my quarrel to you, step immediately into that little dark closet: it is for my private occasions; there is no lock, but he will not stay.

  Wood. Thus am I ever tantalized![Goes in.

  Enter Brainsick.

  Brain. What, am I become your drudge? your slave? the property of all your pleasures? Shall I, the lord and master of your life, become subservient; and the noble name of husband be dishonoured? No, though all the cards were kings and queens, and Indies to be gained by every deal —

  Mrs Brain. My dear, I am coming to do my duty. I did but go up a little, (I whispered you for what) and am returning immediately.

  Brain. Your sex is but one universal ordure, a nuisance, and incumbrance of that majestic creature, man: yet I myself am mortal too. Nature’s necessities have called me up; produce your utensil of urine.

  Mrs Brain. It is not in the way, child: You may go down into the garden.

  Brain. The voyage is too far: though the way were paved with pearls and diamonds, every step of mine is precious, as the march of monarchs.

  Mrs Brain. Then my steps, which are not so precious, shall be employed for you: I will call up Judith.

  Brain. I will not dance attendance. At the present, your closet shall be honoured.

  Mrs Brain. O lord, dear, it is not worthy to receive such a man as you are.

  Brain. Nature presses; I am in haste.

  Mrs Brain. He must be discovered, and I unavoidably undone![Aside.

  [Brainsick goes to the door, and Woodall meets him: She shrieks out.

  Brain. Monsieur Woodall!

  Wood. Sir, begone, and make no noise, or you will spoil all.

  Brain. Spoil all, quotha! what does he mean, in the name of wonder?

  Wood. [Taking him aside.] Hark you, Mr Brainsick, is the devil in you, that you and your wife come hither, to disturb my intrigue, which you yourself engaged me in, with Mrs Tricksy, to revenge you on Limberham? Why, I had made an appointment with her here; but, hearing somebody come up, I retired into the closet, till I was satisfied it was not the keeper.

  Brain. But why this intrigue in my wife’s chamber?

  Wood. Why, you turn my brains, with talking to me of your wife’s chamber! do you lie in common? the wife and husband, the keeper and the mistress?

  Mrs Brain. I am afraid they are quarrelling; pray heaven I get off.

  Brain. Once again, I am the sultan of this place: Mr Limberham is the mogul of the next mansion.

  Wood. Though I am a stranger in the house, it 083 is impossible I should be so much mistaken: I say, this is Limberham’s lodging.

  Brain. You would not venture a wager of ten pounds, that you are not mistaken?

  Wood. It is done: I will lay you.

  Brain. Who shall be judge?
<
br />   Wood. Who better than your wife? She cannot be partial, because she knows not on which side you have laid.

  Brain. Content. — Come hither, lady mine: Whose lodgings are these? who is lord, and grand seignior of them?

  Mrs Brain. [Aside.] Oh, goes it there? — Why should you ask me such a question, when every body in the house can tell they are ‘nown dear’s?

  Brain. Now are you satisfied? Children and fools, you know the proverb —

  Wood. Pox on me! nothing but such a positive coxcomb as I am, would have laid his money upon such odds; as if you did not know your own lodgings better than I, at half a day’s warning! And that which vexes me more than the loss of my money, is the loss of my adventure!

  [Exit.

  Brain. It shall be spent: We will have a treat with it. This is a fool of the first magnitude.

  Mrs Brain. Let my own dear alone, to find a fool out.

  Enter Limberham.

  Limb. Bully Brainsick, Pug has sent me to you on an embassy, to bring you down to cards again; she is in her mulligrubs already; she will never forgive you the last vol you won. It is but losing a little to her, out of complaisance, as they say, to a fair lady; and whatever she wins, I will make up to you again in private.

  Brain. I would not be that slave you are, to enjoy 084 the treasures of the east. The possession of Peru, and of Potosi, should not buy me to the bargain.

  Limb. Will you leave your perboles, and come then?

  Brain. No; for I have won a wager, to be spent luxuriously at Long’s; with Pleasance of the party, and Termagant Tricksy; and I will pass, in person, to the preparation: Come, matrimony.

  [Exeunt Brainsick, Mrs Brain.

  Enter Saintly, and Pleasance.

  Pleas. To him: I’ll second you: now for mischief!

  Saint. Arise, Mr Limberham, arise; for conspiracies are hatched against you, and a new Faux is preparing to blow up your happiness.

  Limb. What is the matter, landlady? Pr’ythee, speak good honest English, and leave thy canting.

  Saint. Verily, thy beloved is led astray, by the young man Woodall, that vessel of uncleanness: I beheld them communing together; she feigned herself sick, and retired to her tent in the garden-house; and I watched her out-going, and behold he followed her.