THE DOUBLE DEALER. ACT. I. Enter Careless, crossing the stage, with his hat, gloves, and fword in his hands; as just rifen from table: Mellefont following him. Mel. NED, Ned, whither fo fast? What, turn'd flincher! Why, you wo'not leave us ? Care. Where are the women? I'm weary of drinking, and begin to think them the better company. Mel. Then thy reason staggers, and thou'rt almost tipsey. Care. No, faith, but your fools grow noify and if a man must endure the noise of words without sense, I think the women have more musical voices and become nonsense better. Mel. Why, they are at the end of the gallery; retir'd to their tea, and scandal; according to their ancient custom, after dinner. But I made a pretence to follow you, because I had fomething to say to you in private, and I am not like to have many opportunities this evening. Care. And here's this coxcomb most critically come to interrupt you. Enter Brifk. Brisk. Boys, boys, lads, where are you? What do you give ground, mortgage for a bottle, ha? Careless, this is your trick; you're always spoiling company by leaving it. Care. And thou art always spoiling company by com ing into't. Brisk. Pooh, ha, ha, ha! I know you envy me. Spite, proud spite, by the gods! and burning envy-I'll be judg'd by Mellefont here, who gives and takes raillery better, you, or I. Pshaw, man, when I fay you spoil company by leaving it, I mean you leave nobody for the company to laugh at. I think there I was with you, ha? Mellefont. Mel. O' my word, Brisk, that was a home thrust, you have filenc'd him. Brisk. O my dear Mellefont, let me perish, if thou art not the foul of conversation, the very essence of wit and spirit of wine. The deuce take me if there were three good things said, or one understood, fince thy amputation from the body of our society. - He, I think that's pretty and metaphorical enough: I'gad I could not have faid it out of thy company, - Careless, ha ? Care. Hum, ay, what is't? Brisk. O, mon cœur! What is't! Nay gad I'll punish for want of apprehenfion: the deuce take me if I tell you. Mel. No, no, hang him, he has no tafte. dear Brisk, excuse me, I have a little business. But, Care. Pr'ythee get thee gone; thou seest we are serious. Mel. We'll come immediately, if you'll but go in, and keep up good humour and sense in the company: Pr'ythee do, they'll fall asleep else. Brisk. I'gad so they will-Well I will, I will, gad you shall command me from the Zenith to the Nadir. But the deuce take me if I say a good thing 'till you come. But pr'ythee dear rogue, make haste, pr'ythee make haste, I shall burst else. - And yonder your uncle, my Lord Touchwood, swears he'll disinherit you, and Sir Paul Plyant threatens to disclaim you for a fon-in-law, and my Lord Froth won't dance at your wedding to morrow; nor the deuce take me, I won't write your epithalamium-and fee what a condition you're like to be brought to. Mel. Well, I'll speak but three words, and follow you. Brisk. Enough, enough, Careless, bring your appre henfion along with you. Care. Pert coxcomb. [Exit. Mel. Faith 'tis a good-natur'd coxcomb, and has very enter entertaining follies-You must be more humane to him; at this juncture, it will do me service. I'll tell you, I would have mirth continued this day at any rate: tho' patience purchase folly, and attention be paid with noise: There are times when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth. Pr'ythee do thou wear none to day; but allow Brisk to have wit, that thou may'st seem a fool. Care. Why, how now, why this extravagant proposition ? Mel. O, I would have no room for serious design, for I am jealous of a plot. I would have noise and impertinence keep my Lady Touchwood's head from working: • For hell is not more busy than her brain, nor contains ' more devils, than that imaginations.' Care. I thought your fear of her had been over-Is not to-morrow appointed for your marriage with Cynthia, and her father, Sir Paul Plyant, come to settle the writings this day, on purpose ? Mel. True; but you shall judge whether I have not reason to be alarm'd. None besides you, and Maskwell, are acquainted with the secret of my aunt Touchwood's violent paffion for me. Since my first refusal of her addresses, she has endeavour'd to do me all ill offices with my uncle; yet has managed 'em with that fubtility, that to him they have born the face of kindness; while her malice, like a dark lanthorn, only shone upon me, where it was directed. Still it gave me less perplexity to pre• vent the success of her difpleasure, than to avoid the im• portunities of her love; and of two evils, I thought my 'self favour'd in her averfion:' but whether urg'd by her despair, and the short profpect of time she saw, to accomplish her designs; whether the hopes of revenge, or of her love, terminated in the view of this my marriage with Cynthia, I know not; but this morning the furpriz'd me in my own chamber. Care. Was there ever fuch a fury!' 'tis well nature • has not put it into her sex's power to ravish.'-Well, bless us! proceed. What follow'd? Mel. What at first amaz'd me; for I look'd to have seen ⚫ her in all the transports of a flighted and revengeful wo'man: but when I expected thunder from her voice, and • lightning A 4 6 ⚫ lightning in her eyes; I saw her melted into tears, and • hush'd into a sigh. It was long before either of us spoke, paffion had ty'd her tongue, and amazement mine.In short, the consequence was thus, she omitted nothing that the most violent love could urge, or tender words exprefs; which when she saw had no effect, but still I pleaded honour and nearness of blood to my uncle; then came the storm I fear'd at first: For starting from my bed-fide like a fury, the flew to my sword, and with much ado I prevented her doing me or herself a mischief: Having difarm'd her in a guft of passion she left me, and in a resolution, confirm'd by a thousand curses, not to clofe her eyes, 'till they had seen my ruin. Care. Exquifite woman! But what the devil' does she think, thou haft no more fenfe, than to get an heir upon * her body' to disinherit thyself: for as I take it, this settlement upon you, is, with a proviso, that your uncle have no children. Mel. It is fo. Well, the service you are to do me, will be a pleasure to yourself; I must get you to engage my Lady Plyant all this evening, that my pious aunt may not work her to her interest. And if you chance to secure her to yourself, you may incline her to mine. She's handsome, and knows it; is very filly, and thinks she has fenfe, and has an old fond husband. Care. I confess a very fair foundation, for a lover to build upon. Mel. For my Lord Froth, he and his wife will be fufficiently taken up, with admiring one another, and Brisk's galantry, as they call it. I'll observe my uncle myself; and Jack Maskwell has promised me, to watch my aunt narrowly, and give me notice upon any fufpicion. As for Sir Paul, my wife father-in-law that is to be, my dear Cynthia has fuch a share in his fatherly fondness, he would scarce make her a moment uneasy, to have her happy hereafter. Care. So, you have mann'd your works: but I wish you may not have the weakest guard, where the enemy: is strongest. Mel. Maskwell, you mean: pr'ythee why should you suspect him ? Care. Care. Faith I cannot help it, you know I never lik'd him; I am a little superstitious in in phyfiognomy, Mel. He has obligations of gratitude to bind him to me; his dependence upon my uncle is through my means. Care. Upon your aunt you mean. Mel. My aunt! Care. I'm mistaken if there be not a familiarity between them, you do not fufpect: notwithstanding her passion for you. Mel. Pooh, pooh, nothing in the world but his design to do me service; and he endeavours to be well in her esteem, that he may be able to effect it. Care. Well, I shall be glad to be mistaken; but your aunt's aversion in her revenge, cannot be any way so effectually shewn, as in promoting a means to disinherit you. She is handsome and cunning, and naturally amorous. Mafkwell is flesh and blood at best and opportunities between them are frequent. His affection to you have confessed, is grounded upon his interest, that you have transplanted; and should it take root in my lady, I don't see what you can expect from the fruit. Mel. I confefss the consequence is visible, were your fufpicions just. But fee, the company is broke up, let's meet 'em. Enter Lord Touchwood, Lord Froth, Sir Paul Plyant, and Brisk, Ld. Touch. Out upon't, nephew-Leave your fatherin-law, and me to maintain our ground against young people. Mel. I beg your lordship's pardon-We were just returning.. Sir Paul. Were you, fon? gadsbud much better as it is-Good, strange! I swear I'm almost tipsy-t'other bottle would have been too powerful for me, -as fure as can be it would. - We wanted your company, but Mr. Brisk-Where is he? I swear and vow, he's a most facetious perfon-and the best company. And my Lord Froth, your lordship is so merry a man, he, he, he! Ld. Froth. O foy, Sir Paul, what do you mean? Merry! O barbarous! I'd as lief you call'd me fool. Sir Paul. Nay, I protest and vow now, 'tis true; when A 5 |