Lady Fan. [Aside.] Confusion seize 'em, as it seizes me! Mad. [Aside.] Que le diable étouffe ce maraud de Rasor! Bel. Your ladyship seems disordered; a breeding qualm, perhaps.-Mr. Heartfree, your bottle of Hungary water to your lady.-Why, madam, he stands as unconcerned as if he were your husband in earnest. Lady Fan. Your mirth's as nauseous as yourself, Belinda. You think you triumph over a rival now hélas ! ma pauvre fille. Where'er I'm rival there's no cause for mirth. No, my poor wretch, 'tis from another principle I have acted. I knew that thing there would make so perverse a husband, and you so impertinent a wife, that lest your mutual plagues should make you both run mad, I charitably would have broke the match. He! he! he! he he! [Exit laughing affectedly, MADEMOISELLE following her. Mad. He he he he! he ! All. Ha ha! ha! ha! ha! Sir John. [Aside.] Why now this woman will be married to somebody too. Bel. Poor creature! what a passion she's in ! but I forgive her. Heart. Since you have so much goodness for her, I hope you will pardon my offence too, madam. Bel. There will be no great difficulty in that, since I am guilty of an equal fault. Heart. Then pardons being passed on all sides, pray let's to church to conclude the day's work. Upon the revival of this Play, in 1725, Sir John Vanbrugh thought proper to substitute the two following Scenes, in lieu of those printed in pages 351, 353. SCENE I.-Covent-Garden. ACT IV. Enter Lord RAKE, Sir JOHN BRUTE, Colonel BULLY, and others, with drawn swords. Rake. Is the dog dead? Bully. No, damn him! I heard him wheeze. Rake. How the witch his wife howled! Bully. Ay, she'll alarm the watch presently. Rake. Appear, knight, then. Come, you have a good cause to fight for, there's a man murdered. Sir John. Is there? Then let his ghost be satisfied; for I'll sacrifice a constable to it presently, and burn his body upon his wooden chair. Enter a Tailor, with a bundle under his arm. Bully. How now! what have we got here? a thief? Tailor. No, an't please you, I'm no thief. Rake. That we'll see presently. Here-let the general examine him. Sir John. Ay, ay, let me examine him, and I'll lay a hundred pound I find him guilty in spite of his teeth for he looks-like a-sneaking rascal. Come, sirrah, without equivocation or mental reservation, tell me of what opinion you are, and what calling; for by them-I shall guess at your morals. Sir John. See! here he comes, with all his doing here in the And who are you, Sir John. Mayhap not. Watch. What are you all streets at this time o' night? madam, that seem to be at the head of this noble crew? Sir John. Sirrah, I am Bonduca, queen of the Welchmen, and with a leek as long as my pedigree, I will destroy your Roman legion in an Tail. An't please you, I'm a dissenting journey-instant.-Britons, strike home! man woman's tailor. Sir John. Then, sirrah, you love lying by your religion, and theft by your trade; and so that your punishment may be suitable to your crimes-I'll have you first gagged-and then hanged. Tail. Pray, good worthy gentlemen, don't abuse me; indeed I'm an honest man, and a good workman, though I say it that should not say it. Sir John. No words, sirrah, but attend your fate. Rake. Let me see what's in that bundle. Tail. An't please you, it's my lady's short cloak and sack. Sir John. What lady, you reptile, you? Tail. My lady Brute, an't please your honour. Sir John. My lady Brute! my wife! the robe of my wife with reverence let me approach it. The dear angel is always taking care of me in danger, and has sent me this suit of armour to protect me in this day of battle. On they go ! All. O brave knight! Rake. Live Don Quixote the second. Sir John. Sancho, my squire, help me on with my armour. Tail. O dear gentlemen! I shall be quite undone if you take the sack. Sir John. Retire, sirrah! and since you carry off your skin, go home and be happy. Tail. [Aside.] I think I'd e'en as good follow the gentleman's advice; for if I dispute any longer, [They fight off. Watchmen return with Sir JOHN. Watch. So, we have got the queen, however ! We'll make her pay well for her ransom.-Come, madam, will your majesty please to walk before the constable? Sir John. The constable's a rascal! and you are a son of a whore ! Watch. A most noble reply, truly! If this be her royal style, I'll warrant her maids of honour prattle prettily. But we'll teach you some of our court dialect before we part with you, princess.Away with her to the Round-house. Sir John. Hands off, you ruffians! My honour's dearer to me than my life; I hope you won't be [Exeunt. uncivil. Watch. Away with her! SCENE III.-The Street before the Justice's House. Enter Constable and Watchmen, with Sir JOHN BRUTE. Constable. Come, forsooth, come along, if you please. I once in compassion thought to have seen you safe home this morning, but you have been so rampant and abusive all night, I shall see what the justice of peace will say to you. Sir John. And you shall see what I'll say to the justice of peace. [Watchman knocks at the door. Just. Well, Mr. Constable, what is the matter there? Con. An't please your worship, this here comical sort of a gentlewoman has committed great outrages to-night. She has been frolicking with my lord Rake and his gang; they attacked the watch, and I hear there has been a man killed: I believe 'tis they have done it. Sir John. Sir, there may have been murder for aught I know; and 'tis a great mercy there has not been a rape too-that fellow would have ravished me. 2 Watch. Ravish! ravish! O lud! O lud! O lud! Ravish her! why, please your worship, I heard Mr. Constable say he believed she was little better than a maphrodrite. Just. Why, truly, she does seem a little masculine about the mouth. 2 Watch. Yes, and about the hands too, an't please your worship. I did but offer in mere civility to help her up the steps into our apartment, and with her gripen fist—ay, just so, sir. [Sir JOHN knocks him down. Sir John. I felled him to the ground like an ox. Just. Out upon this boisterous woman! Out upon her! Sir John. Mr. Justice, he would have been uncivil! It was in defence of my honour, and I demand satisfaction. 2 Watch. I hope your worship will satisfy her honour in Bridewell; that fist of hers will make an admirable hemp-beater. Sir John. Sir, I hope you will protect me against that libidinous rascal; I am a woman of quality and virtue too, for all I am in an undress this morning. Just. Why, she has really the air of a sort of a woman a little something out of the common.Madam, if you expect I should be favourable to you, I desire I may know who you are. Sir John. Sir, I am anybody, at your service. Just. Lady, I desire to know your name. Sir John. Sir, my name's Mary. Just. Ay, but your surname, madam? Sir John. Sir, my surname's the very same with my husband's. Just. A strange woman this!-Who is your husband, pray? Sir John. Sir John. Sir John. Sir John Brute. Just. Is it possible, madam, you can be my lady Brute ? Sir John. That happy woman, sir, am I; only a little in my merriment to-night. Just. I am concerned for sir John. Just. I have heard he's an honest gentleman. Sir John. As ever drank. Just. Good lack! Indeed, lady, I'm sorry he has such a wife. Sir John. I am sorry he has any wife at all. Just. And so, perhaps, may he.-I doubt you have not given him a very good taste of matrimony. Sir John. Taste, sir! Sir, I have scorned to stint him to a taste, I have given him a full meal of it. Just. Indeed I believe so! But pray, fair lady, may he have given you any occasion for this extraordinary conduct?-does he not use you well? Sir John. A little upon the rough sometimes. Just. Ay, any man may be out of humour now and then. Sir John. Sir, I love peace and quiet, and when a woman don't find that at home, she's apt sometimes to comfort herself with a few innocent diversions abroad. Just. I doubt he uses you but too well. Pray how does he as to that weighty thing, money? Does he allow you what is proper of that? Sir John. Sir, I have generally enough to pay the reckoning, if this son of a whore of a drawer would but bring his bill. Just. A strange woman this!-Does he spend a reasonable portion of his time at home, to the comfort of his wife and children? Sir John. He never gave his wife cause to repine at his being abroad in his life. Just. Pray, madam, how may he be in the grand matrimonial point?—is he true to your bed? Sir John. [Aside.] Chaste! oons! This fellow asks so many impertinent questions! egad I believe it is the justice's wife, in the justice's clothes. Just. 'Tis a great pity he should have been thus disposed of.-Pray, madam, (and then I've done,) what may be your ladyship's common method of life? If I may presume so far. Sir John. Why, sir, much that of a woman of quality. Just. Pray how may you generally pass your time, madam? your morning for example. Sir John. Sir, like a woman of quality.-I wake about two o'clock in the afternoon-I stretchand make a sign for my chocolate. When I have drank three cups-I slide down again upon my back, with my arms over my head, while my two maids put on my stockings.-Then, hanging upon their shoulders, I am trailed to my great chair, where I sit and yawn-for my breakfast.-If it don't come presently, I lie down upon my couch to say my prayers, while my maid reads me the playbills. Just. Very well, madam. Sir John. When the tea is brought in, I drink twelve regular dishes, with eight slices of bread and butter.-And half an hour after, I send to the cook to know if the dinner is almost ready. Just. So, madam ! Sir John. By that time my head is half dressed, I hear my husband swearing himself into a state of perdition that the meat's all cold upon the table, to amend which, I come down in an hour more, and have it sent back to the kitchen, to be all dressed over again. Just. Poor man! Sir John. When I have dined, and my idle servants are presumptuously set down at their ease, to do so too, call for my coach, to go visit fifty dear friends, of whom I hope I shall never find one at home while I shall live. Just. So, there's the morning and afternoon pretty well disposed of!-Pray, madam, how do you pass your evenings? Sir John. Like a woman of spirit, sir, a great spirit. Give me a box and dice.-Seven's the main! Oons! Sir, I set you a hundred pound !— Why, do you think women are married now a days, to sit at home and mend napkins? Sir, we have nobler ways of passing time. Just. Mercy upon us, Mr. Constable, what will this age come to ? Con. What will it come to, indeed, if such women as these are not set in the stocks? Sir John. Sir, I have a little urgent business calls upon me; and therefore I desire the favour of you to bring matters to a conclusion. Just. Madam, if I were sure that business were not to commit more disorders, I would release you. Sir John. None-by my virtue. Just. Then, Mr. Constable, you may discharge her. Sir John. Sir, your very humble servant. If you please to accept of a bottle Just. I thank you kindly, madam; but I never drink in a morning. Good-by-t'ye, madam, goodby-t'ye. Sir John. Good-by-t'ye, good sir.-[Exit Justice.] So!-Now, Mr. Constable, shall you and I go pick up a whore together? Con. No, thank you, madam; my wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable man. Sir John. [Aside.] He! he he! he! he!the fool is married then.-[Aloud.] Well, you won't go ? Con. Not I, truly. Sir John. Then I'll go by myself; and you and your wife may be damned. [Exit. Con. [Gazing after him.] Why God-a-mercy, [Exeunt. lady! ESO P. A Comedy. PREFACE. To speak for a play if it can't speak for itself is vain; and if it can, 'tis needless. For one of these reasons (I can't yet tell which, for 'tis now but the second day of acting) I resolve to say nothing for Esop, though I know he'd be glad of help; for let the best happen that can, his journey's up hill, with a dead English weight at the tail of him. At Paris indeed he scrambled up something faster (for 'twas up hill there too) than I'm afraid he will do here: the French having more mercury in their heads, and less beef and pudding in their bellies. Our solidity may set hard, what their folly makes easy: for fools I own they are, you know we have found them so in the conduct of the war; I wish we may do so in the management of the peace: but that's neither Æsop's business nor mine. This play, gentlemen (or one not much unlike it), was writ in French about six years since by one Monsieur Boursault; 'twas played at Paris by the French comedians, and this was its fate :-The first day it appeared, 'twas routed ;-people seldom being fond of what they don't understand, their own sweet persons excepted. The second (by the help of some bold knight-errants) it rallied; the third it advanced; the fourth it gave a vigorous attack; and the fifth put all the feathers in town to the scamper, pursuing 'em on to the fourteenth, and then they cried out quarter. 'Tis not reasonable to expect Æsop should gain so great a victory here, since 'tis possible by fooling with his sword I may have turned the edge on't. For I confess in the translation I have not at all stuck to the original. Nay, I have gone farther: I have wholly added the fifth Act, and crowded a country gentleman into the fourth, for which I ask Monsieur Boursault's pardon with all my heart, but doubt I never shall obtain it for bringing him into such company. Though after all, had I been so complaisant to have waited on his play word for word, 'tis possible even that might not have ensured the success of it: for though it swam in France, it might have sunk in England. Their country abounds in cork, ours in lead. GALLANTS! we never yet produced a play For though with heavenly zeal you all abound, |