THE OLD BATCHELOR. ACT I. SCENE 1. The Street. BELLMOUR and VAINLOVE, meeting. Bellmour. VAINLOVE, and abroad so early! Good-morrow; I thought a contemplative lover could no more have parted with his bed in a morning, than he could have slept in 't. Vain. Bellmour, good-morrow-Why, the truth on 't is, these early sallies are not usual to me; but business, as you see, sir-[Shewing letters.] And business must be follow'd, or be lost. Bell. Business!—And so must time, my friend, be close pursued or lost. Business is the rub of life, perverts our aim, casts off the bias, and leaves as wide and short of the intended mark. Vain. Pleasure, I guess, you mean. B Bell. More than they believe-or understand. Vain. How, how, Ned, a wise man say more than he understands? Bell. Ay, ay, wisdom's nothing but a pretending to know and believe more than we really do. You read of but one wise man, and all that he knew was, that he knew nothing. Come, come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools; they have need of 'em: wit be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation; and let father Time shake his glass. Let low and earthly souls grovel 'till they have worked themselves six feet deep into a grave-Business is not my element-I roll in a higher orb, and dwell. Vain. In castles i' th' air, of thy own building; that's thy element, Ned-Well, as high a flyer as you are, I have a lure may make you stoop. [Flings a Letter. Bell. Ay, marry, sir, I have a hawk's eye at woman's hand-There's more elegancy in the false spelling of this superscription [Takes up the Letter.] than in all Cicero-Let me see-How now! Dear, perfidious Vainlove. Vain. Hold, hold, 's life, that's the wrong. [Reads. Bell. Nay, let's see the name; (Silvia!) how canst thou be ungrateful to that creature? She's extremely pretty, and loves thee entirely-I have heard her breathe such raptures about thee Vain. Ay, or any body that she's about Bell. No, faith, Frank, you wrong her; she has been just to you. Vain. That's pleasant, by my troth, from thee, who hast had her. Bell. Never-her affections: 't is true, by Heaven, she own'd it to my face; “and, blushing like the vir 66 gin morn, when it disclosed the cheat which that "trusty bawd of nature, night, had hid," confess'd her soul was true to you, though I by treachery had stol'n the bliss Vain. So was true as turtle――in imagination, Ned, ha? Preach this doctrine to husbands, and the married women will adore thee. Bell. Why, faith I think it will do well enoughif the husband be out of the way, for the wife to shew her fondness and impatience of his absence, by choosing a lover as like him as she can, and what is unlike, she may help out with her own fancy. Vain. But is it not an abuse to the lover to be made a blind of? Bell. As you say, the abuse is to the lover, not the husband; for 't is an argument of her zeal towards him, that she will enjoy him in effigy. Vain. It must be a very superstitious country, where such zeal passes for true devotion. I doubt it will be damn'd by all our protestant husbands for flat idolatry-But if you can make Alderman Fondlewife of your persuasion, this letter will be needless. Bell. What, the old banker, with the handsome wife? Vain. Ay. Bell. Let me see, Lætitia! Oh, 't is a delicious morsel. Dear Frank, thou art the truest friend in the world. Vain. Ay, am I not? to be continually starting of hares for you to course. We were certainly cut out for one another; for my temper quits an amour, just where thine takes it up-But read that, it is an appointment for me, this evening, when Fondlewife will be gone out of town to meet the master of a ship, about the return of a venture which he 's in danger of losing. Read, read. Bell. [Reads.] Hum, hum-Out of town this evening, and talks of sending for Mr. Spintext to keep me company; but I'll take care he shall not be at home. Good! Spintext! Oh, the fanatic one-ey'd parson ! Vain. Ay. Bell. [Reads.] Hum, hum-That your conversation will be much more agreeable, if you can counterfeit his habit to blind the servants. Very good! Then I must be disguised-With all my heart" It adds a gusto to an amour; gives it the greater resemblance "to theft; and, among us lewd mortals, the deeper "the sin, the sweeter." Frank, I'm amaz'd at thy good-nature Vain. Faith, I hate love, when 't is forced upon a man as I do wine-And this business is none of my seeking; I only happened to be once or twice where Lætitia was the handsomest woman in company, so, consequently, applied myself to her-And it seems she has taken me at my word-Had you been there, or any body, it had been the same Bell. I wish I may succeed as the same. Vain. Never doubt it; "for if the spirit of cuck"oldom be once raised up in a woman, the devil "can't lay it, 'till she has done it." Bell. Pr'ythee, what sort of fellow is Fondlewife? Vain. A kind of mongrel zealot, sometimes very precise and peevish: but I have seen him pleasant enough in his way; much addicted to jealousy, but more to fondness: so that as he's often jealous without a cause, he's as often satisfied without reason. Bell. A very even temper, and fit for my purpose. I must get your man Setter to provide my disguise. Vain. Ay, you may take him for good and all, if you will, for you have made him fit for nobody else -Well Bell. You're going to visit in return of Silvia's letter-Poor rogue! Any hour of the day or night will serve her—But do you know nothing of a new rival there? Vain. Yes, Heartwell, that surly, old, pretended woman-hater, thinks her virtuous; that's one reason why I fail her: I would have her fret herself out of conceit with me, that she may entertain some thoughts of him. I know he visits her every day. Bell. Yet rails on still, and thinks his love unknown to us; a little time will swell him so, he must be forc'd to give it birth; and the discovery must needs be very pleasant from himself; to see what pains he will take, and how he will strain to be delivered of a secret, when he has miscarried of it already. |