Complete Works of Thomas Otway
Page 31
Clar.
Certainly, Men of Wit and Parts need never be driven to indirect Courses?
Scap.
Oh Madam! Wit and Honesty, like Oyl and Vinegar, with much ado mingled together, give a Relish to a good Fortune, and pass well enough for Sauce, but are very thin Fare of themselves. No, give me your Knave, your thorow-pac’t Knave; hang his Wit, so he be but Rogue enough.
Lucia.
You’r grown very much out of humour with Wit, Scapin I hope, yours has done you no prejudice of late?
Scap.
No, Madam, Your Men of Wit are good for nothing, dull, lazy, restive Snails; ’tis your undertaking, impudent, pushing Fool, that commands his Fortune.
Clar.
You are very plain and open in this Proceeding, whatever you are in others.
Scap.
Dame Fortune, like most others of the Female Sex, (I speak all this with respect to your Ladiship) is generally most Indulgent to the nimble melted Block-Heads, Men of Wit are not for her turn, even too thoughtful when they should be Active; why who beleives any man of wit to have so much as Courage. No Ladies, if y’ave any Friends that hope to raise themselves, advise them to be as much fools as they can, and they’l near want Patrons: And for honesty, if your Ladiships think fit to retire a little further; you shall see me perform upon a Gentleman that’s coming this way.
Clara.
Prithee Lucia, let us Retreat a little and take this opportunity of some divertisement: which hath been very scarce here hitherto.
Enter Shift with a Sack.
Scap.
Oh Shift!
Shift.
Speak not too loud, my Masters coming.
Scap.
I am glad on’t, I shall teach him to betray the secrets of his Friend, if any man puts a trick upon me without return, may I loose this Nose with the Po-, without the pleasure of getting it:
Sh.
I wonder at thy Valour, thou art continually venturing that body of thine: to the Indignity of bruises and indecent Bastinadoes.
Scap.
Difficulties in Adventures makes them pleasant when accomplisht
Sh.
But your Adventures how Comical soever in the beginning, are sure to be Tragical in the end.
Scap.
’Tis no matter, I hate your pusillanimous Spirit; Revenge and Leachery are never so pleasant as when you venture hard for them, begone: here comes my Man.
Enter Gripe.
Oh Sir, Sir, shift for your self, quickly Sir, quickly Sir, for Heavens sake.
Gr.
What’s the matter Man?
Scap.
Heaven! is this a time to ask questions? will you be Murdered instantly? I am afraid you’l be killed within these two Minutes.
Gr.
Mercy on me! killed for what?
Scap.
They are every where looking out for you.
Gr.
Who.? Who?
Scap.
The Brother of her whom your Son has marry’d, hee’s A Captain of a Privatere, who has all sorts of Rogues, English, Scotch, Welsh, Irish, French, under his command; and all lying in wait now, or searching for you to kill you, because you would Null the Marriage; they run-up and down, crying where is the Rogue Gripe, where is the Dog, where is the Slave Gripe; they watch for you so narrowly that there’s no getting home to your Hou-e.
Gr.
Oh Scapin! what shall I do? what will become of me?
Scap.
Nay Heaven knows, but if you come within their reach they’l De — wit you, they’l tear you in pieces: heark.
Gr.
Oh Lord!
Scap.
Hum ’tis none of them?
Gr.
Canst thou find no way for my Escape, dear Scapin?
Scap.
I think I have found one.
Gr.
Good Scapin, show thy self a man now.
Scap.
I shall venture being most immoderately beaten.
Gr.
Dear Scapin, do; I will Reward thee bounteously: Ile give thee this Suit when I have worn it 8 or 9 Months longer.
Scap.
Listen! who are these?
Gr.
God forgive me, Lord have Mercy upon us.
Scap.
No, there’s no body; look, if you’l save your life go into this Sack presently.
Gr.
Oh! whose there?
Scap.
No body: get into the Sack and stir not, what ever happens, I’le carry you as a Bundle of Goods through all your Enemies to the Majors house, or the Castle?
Gr.
An Admirable Invention, Oh! Lord quick.
Gets into the Sack.
Scap.
Yes, ’tis an Excellent Invention; if you knew all, keep in your Head, Oh here’s a Rogue coming to look for you.
Scapin counterfeits a Welshman.
Do you hear, I pray you, where is Leander’s Fathers, look you.
In his own Voice.
How should I know; what would you have with him — [ close.
Have with him, look you! her has no creat pus’ness, but her woud have satisfactions and reparations, look you, for Credits and Honours, by St. Tavy he shall not put the Injuries and Affronts upon my Captains, look you now, Sir,
In his own Voyce.
He Affront the Captain, he meddles with no Man.
Sir, look you, and h-r will give you beatings aud chastisements, for your Contradictions when hur Wells ploods up, look you, and hur will Cudgel your Packs and your Nottles for it, take you that pray you now.
His own Voyce,
Beat the Sack.
Hold, hold, will you Murder me. I know not where he is, not I.
Hur will teach saw-y Iacks how they profook Hur Welse ploods and hur Chollers: and for the old Rogue hur will have his Guts and his plood -ook you Sir, or hur will never wear Leek upon St. Taffyes day more, look you.
His own Voice.
Oh! He has mawl’d me, a damn’d Welch Rogue.
Gr.
You? The Blows fell upon my Shoulders: Oh! Oh!
Scap.
’Twas only the end of the Stick fell on you, the main substantial part of the Cudgel lighted on me.
Gr.
Why did you not stand further off?
Scap.
Peace — Here’s another Rogue.
In a Lancashire Dialect.
Scap.
Yaw Fellee, wi’th Sack theere, done yaw knaw whear th’a-d Rascast Graip is?
Not I; but here is no Rascal.
Yaw Leen, yaw Dogue, yaw knawn weel eenuh whear he is, an yawden teel, and that he is a foo Rascatt as any is in aw the Tawn; I’s tell a that by’r Lady.
Not I, Sir, I know neither, Sir, not I.
By th’ Mess, an ay tack thee in hont, ay’s raddle th’bones on thee, ay’s keeble thee to some tune.
Me, Sir? I don’t understand ye.
Why, Th’awrt his Mon, thaw Hobble, I-ll snite th’ Nase o’thee.
Hold, hold, Sir, what would you have with him?
Why, I mun knock him dawne with my Kibbo, the first bawt to the grawnt, and then I mun beat him aw to pap by th’ Mess, aud after Ay mun cut off the Lugs and Naes on en, and Ay wot, he’ll be a pratty swatley Fellee, bawt Lugs and Naes.
Why, truly Sir, I know not where he is, but he went down that Lane.
This Lone, sayn ye? Ays find him by’r Lady, an he be above grawnt.
So, he’s gone, a damn’d Lancashire Rascal.
Gr.
Oh good Scapin! go on quickly. Hold, here’s another.
[Gr. pops in his Head.
In an Irish Tone.
Dost thou hear Sack-man? I pridee fare is de dam Dog Gripe?
His own Voice.
Why, What’s that to you? What know I.
Fat’s dat to me Ioy? By my soul Ioy, I will lay a great Blow upon thy Pate, and de Devil take me, but I will make thee know fare he is indeed
or I’l beat upon till thou dost know, by my salvation indeed.
Scap.
I’ll not be beaten.
Now the Devil take me, I swear by him that made me, if thou dost not tell fare is Gripe, but I will beat thy Father’s Child very much indeed.
What would you have me do? I cann’t tell where he is. But what would you have with him?
Fat would I have wid him? By my soul, if I do see him, I will make Murther upon him, for my Captain’s sake.
Murther him? He ll not be murther’d.
If I do lay my Eyes upon him, gad I will put my Sword into his Bowels, de Devil take me indeed. Fat hast dow in dat Sack? Ioy, by my salvation I will look into it.
But you shall not. What have you to do with it?
By my soul Ioy, I will put my Rapier into it.
Gr.
Oh! Oh!
Scap.
Fa-t it does grunt, by my salvation; de Devil take me, I will see it indeed.
You shall not see my Sack; I will defend it with my life.
Den I will make beat upon thy Body; take that, Ioy, and that, and that, upon my soul, and so I do take my leave Ioy. [Beats him in the Sack.
A Plague on him, he’s gone; he had almost kill’d me.
Gr.
Oh! I can hold no longer; the Blows all fell on my Shoulders.
Scap.
You cann’t tell me; they fell on mine: Oh my Shoulders!
Gr.
Yours? Oh my Shoulders!
Scap.
Peace, th’are a coming.
In a -oarse Sea-man’s Voice.
-here is the Dog? I-ll lay him on fore and aft, swinge him with a Cat o-nine tails, Keel-hale, and then hang him at the Main Yard.
In broken French-English.
If dere be no more Men in England, I vill kille him, I vill put my Rapire in his Body, and I vill give him two tree push’e in de gutte,
Here Scapin Acts a Number of e’m together.
We mun go this way — o’th’ right hand, no to th’ left hand — lye close — search ev’ry where — by my salvation, I will kill the dam Dog — and we do catch en, we’ll tear ‘en in pieces, an I do heer he went thick way — no, streight forward. Hold, here is his Man, where’s your Master — Dam me, where? in Hell? speak — hold, not so furiously — and you don’t tell us where he is, we’ll murder thee —
Do what you will, Gentlemen, I know not.
Lay him on thick, thwack him soundly.
Hold, hold, do what you will, I’ll nere betray my Master.
Knock’en down, beat’en zoundly, to’en, at’en, at’en, at.
[As he is going to strike, Gripe peeps out, and Scapin takes to his heels.
Gr.
Oh Dog, Traitor, Villain! Is this your Plot? Would you have murder’d me, Rogue? Unheard of Impudence.
[Enter Thrifty.
Oh Brother Thrifty! You come to see me loaden with disgrace; the Villain Scapin has, as I am sensible now, cheated me of 200 l. this beating brings all into my memory.
[Aside.
Th.
The impudent Varlet has gull’d me of the same Sum?
Gr.
Nor was he content to take my Money, but hath abus’d me at that barbarous rate, that I am ashamed to tell it; but he shall pay for it severely.
Th.
But this is not all, Brother, on Misfortune is the forerunner of another: Just now I received Letters from London, that both our Daughters have run away from their Governesses, with two wild debaucht young Fellows, that they fell in Love with.
Enter Lucia. and Clara.
Luc.
Was ever so malicious Impudence seen — Hah — Surely, if I mistake not; that should be my Father.
Cla.
And the other mine, who Scapin has us’d thus.
Luc.
Bless us! Return’d, and we not know of it?
Cla.
What will they say to find us here?
Luc.
My dearest Father, Welcome to England.
Th.
My Daughter Luce?
Luc.
The same, Sir.
Gr.
My Clara here too?
Cla.
Yes, Sir, and happy to see your safe Arrival.
Th.
What strange destiny has directed this happiness to us?
Enter Octavian.
Gr.
Hey day!
Th.
Oh Son! I have a Wife for you.
Oct.
Good Father, All your Propositions are vain; I must needs be free, and tell you, I am engaged.
Th.
Look you now; is not this very fine? Now I have a mind to be merry, and be friends with you, you’l not let me now, will you? I tell you, Mr. Gripe’s Daughter here —
Oct.
I’le never marry Mr. Gripe’s daughter, Sir, as long as I Live; No, yonder’s she that I must Love, and can never Entertain the thoughts of any other.
Cla.
Yes Octavian, I have at last met with my Father, and all our fears and troubles are at an end.
Thr.
Law ye now, you would be wiser than the Father that begot you, would you? did not I always say you should marry Mr. Gripes daughter? But you do not know your Sister Luce?
Oct.
Unlook’d for blessing, why she’s my friend Leander’s Wife!
Thr.
How Leander’s Wife!
Gr.
What my Son Leander?
Oct.
Yes, Sir, your Son Leander.
Gr.
Indeed! well Brother Thrifty, ’tis true, the Boy was always a good natur’d Boy. Well now am I so overjoyed, that I could laugh till I shook my shoulders, but that I dare not they are so sore. But look here he comes.
Enter Leander.
Lean.
Sir, I beg your pardon, I fi-d my marriage is discovered; nor would I indeed, have longer concealed it, this is my Wife, and l must own her.
Gr.
Brother Thrifty did you ever see the like, did you ever see the like? Ha?
Thr.
Own her quoth a! why kiss her, kiss her, Man, oddsboddikins, when I was a young fellow and was first married, I did nothing else for three months. O my conscience I got my Boy
Octi.
there, the first night before the Curtaines were quite drawn!
Gr.
Well, ’tis his Fathers nowne Child; Just so Brother was it with me upon my Wedding day, I could not look upon my dear without blushing, but when we were a Bed, Lord ha mercy upon us — but I le say no more.
Lean.
Is then my Father Reconcil’d to me.
Gr.
Reconcil’d to thee, why I love thee at my heart man, at my heart, why ’tis my Brother Thrifty’s daughter, Mrs. L-ce, whom I always design’d for thy Wife, and that’s thy Sister Clara married to Mr. Octa. there.
Lean.
Octavian are we then Brothers? there is nothing that I could have rather wisht after the Compleating of my happiness with my charming Lucia.
Thr.
Come Sir, hang up your complements in the Hall at home, they are old and out of fashion: Shift go to the Inn and bespeak a Supper may cost more Money than I have ready to pay for’t, for I am resolved to run in debt to night.
Sh.
I shall obey your commands Sir.
Thr.
Then d’you hear, send out and muster up all the Fidlers, Blind or not Blind, Drunk or Sober) in the Town; let not so (much as the Roaster of Tunes, with his crack’d Cymbal in a Case, escape ye.
Gr.
Well what would I give now for the fellow that sings the Song at my Lord Mayors Feast, I my self would make an Epithalamium by way of Sonnet, and he should set a Tune to it, ’twas the pretty’st he had last time.
Enter Sly.
Sly.
Oh Gentlemen here is the strangest accident fallen out.
Thr.
What’s the matter.
Sly.
Poor Scapin.
Gr.
Ha! Rogue let him be hang’d, I’le hang him my self.
Sly.
Oh Sir, that trouble you may spare, for passing by a place where they were building, a great stone fell upon his head and broke his Scull so, you may see his Braines.
Thr.
Where is he?
Sly.
Yonder he comes.
Enter Scapin between two, his Head wrap’d up in Linnen as if he had been wounded
Scap.
Oh me! Oh me! Gèntlemen you see me, you see me in a sad Condition, cut off like a Flower in the prime of my years: But yet I could not dye without the pardon of those that I have wrong’d, yes Gentlemen I beseech you to forgive me all the injuries that I have done; but more especially, I beg of you Mr. Thrifty, and my good Master Mr. Gripe.
Thr.
For my part, I pardon thee freely, go, and dye in peace.
Scap.
But ’tis you Sir, I have most offended, by the inhumane Bastinadoes which —
Gr.
Prithee speak no more of it, I forgive thee too.
Scap.
’Twas a most wicked Insolence in me, that I should with Vile Crab-tree Cudgel —
Gr.
Pish, no more, I say I am Satisfied.
Scap.
And now so near my death ’tis an unspeakable grief that I should dare to lift my hand against —
Gr.
Hol thy Peace, or dye quickly, I tell thee I have forgot All —
Scap.
Alas! how good a man you are! But Sir, d’you pardon me freely and from the bottom of your Heart, those mercyless drub- that —
Gr.
Prithee speak no more of it. I forgive thee freely, here’s my hand upon’t.
[Pulls off his Cap.
Scap.
Oh! Sir, how much your Goodness Revives me!
Gr.
Hows that! Friend take Notice I pardon thee, but ’tis upon Condition that you are sure to dye!
Scap.
Oh me! I begin to faint again.
Thr.
Come, fie Brother, never let Revenge imploy your thoughts now, forgive him, forgive him without any Condition.
Gr.
A dewce on’t Brother, as I hope to be sav’d he beat me basely and scurvily, never stir he did; But since you will have it so, I do forgive him.
Thr.
Now then let’s to supper, and in our mirth drown and forget all troubles.
Scap.
Ay, and let them carry me to the Lower End of the Table.
Where in my Chair of State, I’le sit at ease,