by Thomas Otway
Tru. Doubtless, sir, you were much in the right. But, Valentine, we stay too long: ’tis time we were going.
Mal. What, to dinner? I’ll make a third man — where shall it be?
Tru. Sir, I am sorry, we must beg your excuse this time, for we are both engaged.
Mal. Whoo! pry’thee, that’s all one, I am sure I know the company; I’ll go along at a venture.
Val. No, but Malagene, to make short of the business, we are going into company that are not very good friends of your’s, and will be very uneasy if you be there.
Mal. What’s that to the purpose? — I care as little for them as they do for me; though on my word, sparks, of honest fellows, you keep the oddest company sometimes that ever I knew.
Tru. But, sir, we are resolved to reform it, and in order thereunto, desire you would leave us to ourselves to-day.
Mal. No — but I’ll tell you, go along with me; I have discovered a treasure of pale wine — I assure you ’tis the same the king drinks of — what say you Jack? I am but for one bottle or two; for faith I have resolved to live sober for a week.
Tru. Pr’ythee, tormentor, leave us; do not I know the wine thou drinkest is as base as the company thou keepest. To be plain with you, we will not go with you, nor must you go with us.
Mal. Why, if one should ask the question now, whither are you going? ha!
Val. How comes it, Malagene, you are not with your two friends, Caper and Saunter? — you may be sure of them; they’ll eat and drink, and go all over the world with you.
Mal. How canst thou think that I would keep such loathsome company? a brace of silly, talking, dancing, singing rascals: ’tis true, I contracted an acquaintance with ’em, I know not how; and now and then, when I am out of humour, love to laugh at and abuse ’em for an hour or two but come what will on’t, I am re solved to go along with you to-day.
Tru. Upon my word, sir, you cannot Why should you make so many difficulties with your friends?
Mal. Whoo! pr’ythee leave fooling You would shake me off now, would you? But I know better things. The sham won’t pass upon me, sir; it won’t, look you.
Tru. Death! we must use him ill, or there is no getting rid of him. Not pass, sir?
Mal. No, sir.
Tru. Pray, sir, leave us.
Mal. I shan’t do’t, sir.
Tru. But you must, sir.
Mal. May be not, sir.
Tru. I am going this way. [Walking off.
Mal. So am I.
Tru. But, sir, I must stay here a little longer.
Mal. With all my heart; ’tis the same thing, I am not in haste.
Val. Have a care, Malagene, how you provoke Truman, — you’ll run the hazard of a scurvy beating; my friend, if you do.
Mal. Beating! I am sorry, sir, you know no better: pox, I am used to serve him so, man; let him alone, you shall see how I’ll teaze him. Hark you, Jack.
Tru. Sir, you are an impudent troublesome coxcomb.
Mal. No matter for that, I shan’t leave you.
Tru. Sir, I shall pull you by the nose then.
Mal. ’Tis all one to me, do your worst.
Tru. Take that then, sir — Now d’ye hear [Tweaks him by the nose Go about your business.
Mal. Nay, faith, Jack, now you drive the jest, too far; what a pox, I know you are not in earnest; pr’ythee let’s go.
Tru. Death, sir, you lie; not in earnest! — let [Kicks him] this convince you — How like you the jest now, sir?
Mal. Hark you, Truman, we shan’t dine together then, shall we!
Val. Faith, to tell you the truth of the matter, Truman had a quarrel last night, and we are just now going to make an end on’t: ’tis that makes him so surly. Nevertheless, now I think on’t better, if you’ll go, you shall; perhaps we may have occasion for a third man.
Mal. No, no, if that be the business, I’ll say no more; puh — I hate to press into any man’s company against his inclination. Truman, upon my reputation you are very uncivil now, that you are. But hark you, I ran to the Groom-porters last night, and lost my money. Pr’ythee lend me two guineas till next time I see thee, child.
Tru. With all my heart, sir. I was sure ’twould come to this at last; ’tis here, you may command what you please from your servant. Malagene, good-morrow.
Enter CAPER and SAUNTER.
Mal. Dear Jack Truman, your humble.
[Exit Truman.
Val. Won’t you go along with us then, Malagene?
Mal. No, here are two silly fellows coining, I’ll go and divert myself a little with them at present.
Val. Why, those are the very people you railed at so but now; you will not leave us for them, at a time when you may be so serviceable?
Mal. Hang it, you will have no occasion for me, man? say no more on’t, but take my advice; be sure you stand fast, don’t give ground, d’ye hear, push briskly, and I’ll warrant you do your business.
Val. Sir, I thank you for your counsel, and am sorry we can’t have your company; but you are engaged?
Mal. Are you sure though it will come to fighting? I have no mind to leave your company, methinks.
Val. Nay, nothing so certain as that we shall fight; I wish you would go, for I fancy there will be three in the field.
Mal. A pox on’t, now I remember, I promised to meet these people here, and can’t avoid them now; I’d go else with you with all my heart, faith and troth, but if you’d have me send a guard, I’ll do’t.
Val. No, sir, — there’s no danger — Nothing but the rogue’s cowardice could have rid us of him.
[Exit Valentine.
Mal. How now, bullies, whither so fast this morning? I parted just now with Jack Truman and Ned Valentine: they would fain have had me to dinner with ’em, but I was not in a humour for drinking, and to speak the truth on’t, you are better company ten to one. They engross still all the discourse to themselves: and a man can never be free with them neither.
Cap. Oh Lord, Malagene! we met the delicatest creature but now as we came round; I am a rascal if I don’t think her one of the finest women in the world; I shan’t get her out of my mind this month.
Saunt. ’Twas Victoria, my lady Fairfield’s daughter, that came to town last summer when Goodvile was married. He in love with her poor soul! — I shall beg his pardon there, as I take it [Sings.
Mal. That’s Truman’s blowing: she’s always lingering after him here, and at the playhouse: she heats herself here every morning against the general course at night, where she comes as constantly as my lady Squeamish herself.
Saunt. I vow that’s a fine person; don’t you think she has abundance of wit, Malagene? She and I did so rally Caper t’other day.
Cap. Ay, it may be so.
Saunt. But did you never hear her sing? She made me sit with her till two o’clock t’other morning, to teach her an Italian song I have, and I vow she sings it wonderfully.
Mal. Damn her, she’s the most affected amorous jilt, and loves young fellows more than an old kite does young chickens: there is not a coxcomb of eighteen in town can escape her; we shall have her draw one of you into matrimony within this fortnight.
Cap. Malagene, thou art the most satirical thief breathing: I’d give any thing thou didst but love dancing, that I might have thee on my side sometimes.
Saunt. Well, Malagene, I hope to see thee so in love one day, as to leave off drinking, as I have done, and set up for a shape and a face: or, what is all one, write amorous sonnets, and fight duels with all that do but look like rivals. I would not be in love for all the world, I vow and swear.
[Walks up and down with an affected motion.
Cap. Nor I.
— Ah Phillis, if you would not love
The shepherd, &c. [Sings.
But d’ye hear, Malagene? they say Goodvile gives a ball to night, is’t true?
Mal. Yes, I intend to be there, if I do not go to court.
Cap. I am glad of it with all my heart — Saunter — There’s my lady, to be sure
she’ll not fail.
Saunt. But will you go, Malagene? Goodvile and you are at a distance.
Mal. Whoo! pox! that’s nothing; I’ll go for all that: but faith, I should meet my lord at court to-night. Besides, I han’t been in the drawingroom these three days; the company will wonder what’s become of roe.
Enter Lady SQUEAMISH.
She here! nay, then —
Cap. Madam, your ladyship’s most humble servant.
[Congees affectedly.
Lady Squ. Mr. Caper, your most devoted. —
Oh dear Mr. Saunter! a thousand thanks to you for my song.
Saunt. Your ladyship does your servant too much honour. [Sings, As Chloe full of, &c.
Lady Squ. Mr. Caper, you are a stranger indeed, I have not seen you these two days: Lord, where d’ye live?
Cap. I should have waited on your ladyship, but was so tired at the masquerade at my lord Flutter’s t’other night. [Dances and capers.
Saunt. Madam, madam, Mr. Goodvile gives a ball to-night; will your ladyship be there?
Lady Squ. Yes; I heard of it this morning; Victoria sent me word.
Cap. Ob, madam, d’ye hear the news? Goodvile makes a ball to-night; I hope I shall have the honour of your ladyship’s company.
Lady Squ. Oh, by all means, Mr. Caper, pray don’t you fail us. Oh Lord, Mr. Malagene, I beg your pardon, upon my honour, I did not see you; I was so engaged in the civilities of these gentlemen.
Mal. Your wit and beauty, madam, must command the honour and admiration of all the world. But when did your ladyship see Mr. Valentine?
Lady Squ. Oh, name him not. Mr. Malagene, he’s the unworthiest, basest fellow — besides, he has no principles, nor breeding: I wonder you gentlemen will keep him company; I swear lie’s enough to bring an odium on the whole sex.
Mal. The truth on’t is, madam, I do drink with him now and then, because the fellow has some wit, but it is when better company is out of the way; and faith lie’s always very civil to me as can be: I can rule him.
Lady Squ. Oh Lord, ’tis impossible. Wit! why he was abroad but two years and all that time too in an academy; he knows nothing of the intrigues of the French court, and has the worst mien in the world: he has a sort of an ill-natured way of talking indeed, and they say makes bold with me sometimes, but I’ll assure you I scorn him.
Mal. Truly he has made very bold with you, or be is foully belied: ha, ha, ha. “ [Aside, Lady Squ. They say he’s grown a great admirer of madam Camilla of late, who passes for a wit forsooth. ’Tis true, she’s well enough, but I suppose is not the first that has been troubled with his impertinent addresses.
Mal. Indeed he would not let me alone, till I brought him acquainted there: he owes that happiness to me. But methinks your ladyship speaks with something of heat by heaven she’s jealous! [Aside.
Lady Squ. No, I’ll assure you, sir, I am not concerned at it in the least. But did you ever hear ’em discourse any thing of me?
Mal. Never any ill, madam; only a little idle raillery now and then; but Truman and he are wont to be something lavish when they have been drunk in my company. ‘Twill work.
Lady Squ. Nay, I know he has spoken dishonourably of me behind my back, because he failed in his filthy designs. Madam Camilla may deserve better of him, I doubt not: but if I am not revenged on his falshood. — [Aside. Mr. Caper.
Cap and Saunt. Madam.
Lady Squ. Where do you go to-day?
Cap. Will your ladyship be at the new play?
Lady Squ. No, I saw it the first day, and don’t like it.
Mal. Madam, it has no ill character about the town.
Lady Squ. O Lord, sir, the town is no judge. ’Tis a tragedy, and I’ll assure you there’s nothing in it that’s moving. I love a tragedy that moves, mightily.
Saunt. Does your ladyship know who writ it?
Lady Squ. Yes, the poet came and read it to me at my lodgings; he is but a young man, and I suppose he has not been a writer long; besides, he has had little or no conversation with the court, which has been the reason he has committed a great many indecorums in the conduct of it.
Saunt. I did not like it neither, for my part; there was never a song in it, ha!
Cap. No, nor so much as a dance.
Mal. Oh, ’tis impossible it should take, if there were neither song nor dance in it.
Lady Squ. And then their comedies now-a-days are the filthiest things, full of bawdy and nauseous doings, which they mistake for raillery and intrigue: besides, they have no wit in ’em neither; for all their gentlemen and men of wit, as they style ’em, are either silly, conceited, impudent coxcombs, or else rude, ill-mannerly, drunken fellows — fough — I am ashamed any one should pretend to write a comedy, that does not know the nicer rules of the court, and all the intrigues and gallantries that pass, I vow.
Mal. Who would improve in those things, must consult with your ladyship.
Lady Squ. I swear, Mr. Malagene, you are an obliging person; I wonder the world should be so malicious to give you so undeserving a character as they do: I always found you extremely generous, and a person of worth.
Mal. In troth, madam, your ladyship and myself a re the subjects of abundance of envy; for I love to be malicious now and then; and faith, am the very scourge of the court: they all stand in awe of me, for I must speak what I know, though sometimes I am used a little scurvily for it; but faith I can’t help it, ’tis my way.
Lady Squ. Ha, ha, ha, really I love scandal extremely too sometimes, so it be decently managed. — But as I was saying, there is not a person in the world understands the intrigues of the court better than myself; I am the general confident of the drawing-room, and know the loves of all the people of quality in town.
Cap. Dear madam, how stands the affair between my lord Supple and madam Lofty?
Lady Squ. Worse than ever; ’tis very provoking to see how she uses the poor creature; but the truth is, she can never be at rest for him; he’s more troublesome than an old husband; continually whispering his softness and making his vows, till at last she is forced to fly to me for shelter, and then we do so laugh — which the good-natured creature takes so patiently — I swear, I pity him.
Saunt. But my lady Colt, they say, is kinder to the sparkish Mr. Pruneit.
Lady Squ. O Lord, Mr. Saunter, that you should understand no better; to my knowledge it is all false; I know all that intrigue from the beginning to the ending; it has been off this month besides, he keeps a player again Oh, Mr. Saunter! whatever you do, never concern yourself with those players.
Saunt. Madam, I have left the folly long since; when first I came to town, I must confess I had a gallantry there. But since I have been acquainted with your ladyship’s wit and beauty, I have learned to lay out my heart to better advantage — I think that was finely said.
Lady Squ. I’ll swear, Mr. Saunter, you have the most court-like way of expressing yourself —
Saunt. Oh Lord, madam! [Bows and cringes.
Lady Squ. Mr. Malagene, these are both my intimate acquaintance, and I’ll swear I am proud of ’em. Here is Mr. Saunter sings the French manner better than ever I heard any English gentleman in my life. Besides, be pronounces his English, in singing, with a French kind of a tone or accent, that gives it a strange beauty — Sweet sir, do me the favour of the last new song.
Saunt. Let me die! Your ladyship obliges me beyond expression — Malagene, thou shalt hear me.
[Sings a Song in a French tone.
Mal. What a devil was this? I understand not a word on’t.
Saunt. Ha, Malagene, ha.
Lady Squ. Did you ever hear any thing so fine?
Mal. Never, madam, never: I swear your ladyship is a great judge.
Lady Squ. But how plain and distinctly too every word was pronounced!
Mal. Oh, to admiration, to admiration.
[Makes mouths aside.
Lady Squ. Well, Mr. Saunter, you are a charming creature — O sad, Mr. Caper, I long till night comes:
Mal. That’s more than she ever was in her life, so long as she had a fool or a fiddle in her company.
Lady Squ. Tho’ really I love dancing immoderate — But now you talk of intrigues, I am mistaken if you don’t see something where we are going to-night.
Mal. What, Goodvile is to commence cuckold, is it not so?
Lady Squ. Oh, fy, Mr. Malagene, fy! I vow you’ll make me hate you, if you talk so strangely, but let me die, I can’t but laugh — ha, ha, ha — Well, gentle men, you shall dine with me to-day — what say you, Mr. Malagene, will you go?
Mal. Your ladyship may be sure of me; I hate to break good company.
Lady Squ. And pray now let us be very severe, and talk maliciously of all the town. Mr. Caper, your hand: oh, dear Mr. Saunter, how shall I divide myself? — I’ll swear, I am strangely at a loss — Mr. Malagene, you must be Mr. Saunter’s mistress I think at present.
Mal. With all my heart, madam Sweet Mr, Saunter, your hand: I swear you are a charming creature, and your courtship is as extraordinary as your voice. — Let me die, and I vow I must have t’other song after dinner, for I am very humoursome, and very whimsical, I think: ha, ha, ha. [Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE I. — The Ordinary.
Enter Mrs. GOODVILE and LETTICE.
Mrs. Good. Did you deliver the billet?
Let. Yes, madam, faithfully.
Mrs. Good. But are you sure you did?
Let. Can your ladyship think I would be guilty of the least neglect in a concern of such moment Ί
Mrs. Good. And are you sure he dines here to-day’?
Let. Madam, they are now at dinner below: Mr. Valentine’s there too. Oh, I’ll swear he’s a fine man; the most courteous person.
Mrs. Good. What, because he hunts and kisses you when he’s drunk? No, Lettice; Truman, Truman, O that Truman!
Let. I wonder your ladyship should be so taken with him: were I to choose, I should think my master the more agreeable man.
Mrs. Good. And you may take him if you will; he is as much a husband as one would wish: I have not seen him this fortnight; he never comes home till four in the morning, and then he sneaks to his separate bed, where he lies till afternoon, then rises, and out again upon his parole; flesh and blood can’t endure it.