Читать книгу Plays, written by Sir John Vanbrugh, volume the first - John Vanbrugh - Страница 12

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Enter Loveless and Amanda.

Lov. How do you like these Lodgings, my Dear? For my part, I am so well pleased with them, I shall hardly remove whilst we stay in Town, if you are satisfy'd.

Aman. I am satisfy'd with every thing that pleases you; else I had not come to Town at all.

Lov. O! a little of the Noise and Bustle of the World sweetens the Pleasures of Retreat: We shall find the Charms of our Retirement doubled, when we return to it.

Aman. That pleasing Prospect will be my chiefest Entertainment, whilst, much against my Will, I am obliged to stand surrounded with these empty Pleasures, which 'tis so much the Fashion to be fond of.

Lov. I own most of them are indeed but empty; nay, so empty, that one would wonder by what Magick Power they act, when they induce us to be vicious for their sakes. Yet some there are we may speak kindlier of: There are Delights, of which a private Life is destitute, which may divert an honest Man, and be a harmless Entertainment to a virtuous Woman. The Conversation of the Town is one; and truly (with some small Allowances) the Plays, I think, may be esteem'd another.

Aman. The Plays, I must confess, have some small Charms; and wou'd have more, wou'd they restrain that loose obscene Encouragement to Vice, which shocks, if not the Virtue of some Women, at least the Modesty of all.

Lov. But till that Reformation can be made, I would not leave the wholesome Corn for some intruding Tares that grow among it. Doubtless the Moral of a well-wrought Scene is of prevailing Force——Last Night there happen'd one that mov'd me strangely.

Aman. Pray, what was that?

Lov. Why 'twas about—but 'tis not worth repeating.

Aman. Yes, pray let me know it.

Lov. No, I think 'tis as well let alone.

Aman. Nay, now you make me have a mind to know.

Lov. 'Twas a foolish thing: You'd perhaps grow jealous shou'd I tell it you, tho' without a Cause, Heaven knows.

Aman. I shall begin to think I have cause, if you persist in making it a Secret.

Lov. I'll then convince you you have none, by making it no longer so. Know then, I happen'd in the Play to find my very Character, only with the Addition of a Relapse; which struck me so, I put a sudden Stop to a most harmless Entertainment, which till then diverted me between the Acts. 'Twas to admire the Workmanship of Nature, in the Face of a young Lady that sat some distance from me, she was so exquisitely handsome——

Aman. So exquisitely handsome!

Lov. Why do you repeat my Words, my Dear?

Aman. Because you seem'd to speak them with such Pleasure, I thought I might oblige you with their Echo.

Lov. Then you are alarmed, Amanda?

Aman. It is my Duty to be so, when you are in danger.

Lov. You are too quick in apprehending for me; all will be well when you have heard me out. I do confess I gaz'd upon her, nay, eagerly I gaz'd upon her.

Aman. Eagerly! That's with Desire.

Lov. No, I desir'd her not: I view'd her with a World of Admiration, but not one Glance of Love.

Aman. Take heed of trusting to such nice Distinctions.

Lov. I did take heed; for observing in the Play, that he who seem'd to represent me there, was, by an Accident like this, unwarily surpriz'd into a Net, in which he lay a poor intangled Slave, and brought a Train of Mischiefs on his Head, I snatch'd my Eyes away; they pleaded hard for leave to look again, but I grew absolute, and they obey'd.

Aman. Were they the only things that were inquisitive? Had I been in your place, my Tongue, I fancy, had been curious too: I shou'd have ask'd her Name, and where she liv'd (yet still without Design:)—Who was she, pray?

Lov. Indeed I cannot tell.

Aman. You will not tell.

Lov. By all that's sacred, then, I did not ask.

Aman. Nor do you know what Company was with her?

Lov. I do not.

Aman. Then I am calm again.

Lov. Why, were you disturb'd?

Aman. Had I then no cause?

Lov. None certainly.

Aman. I thought I had.

Lov. But you thought wrong, Amanda; For turn the Case, and let it be your Story; Should you come home, and tell me you had seen a handsome Man, shou'd I grow jealous because you had Eyes?

Aman. But shou'd I tell you he were exquisitely so; that I had gaz'd on him with Admiration; that I had look'd with eager Eyes upon him; shou'd you not think 'twere possible I might go one Step further, and enquire his Name?

Lov. [Aside.] She has Reason on her side, I have talk'd too much; but I must turn it off another way. [To Aman.] Will you then make no difference, Amanda, between the Language of our Sex and yours? There is a Modesty restrains your Tongues, which makes you speak by halves when you commend; but roving Flattery gives a loose to ours, which makes us still speak double what we think: You shou'd not therefore, in so strict a Sense, take what I said to her Advantage.

Aman. Those Flights of Flattery, Sir, are to our Faces only: When Women once are out of hearing, you are as modest in your Commendations as we are. But I shan't put you to the trouble of farther Excuses; if you please, this Business shall rest here. Only give me leave to wish, both for your Peace and mine, that you may never meet this Miracle of Beauty more.

Lov. I am content.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Madam, there's a young Lady at the door in a Chair, desires to know whether your Ladyship sees Company. I think her Name is Berinthia.

Aman. O dear! 'tis a Relation I have not seen this five Years. Pray her to walk in.

[Exit Servant.

To Lov.] Here's another Beauty for you. She was young when I saw her last; but I hear she's grown extremely handsome.

Lov. Don't you be jealous now, for I shall gaze upon her too.

Enter Berinthia.

Lov. [Aside.] Ha! By Heavens, the very Woman!

Ber. [Saluting Aman.] Dear Amanda, I did not expect to meet with you in Town.

Aman. Sweet Cousin, I'm overjoy'd to see you. [To Lov.] Mr. Loveless, here's a Relation and a Friend of mine, I desire you'll be better acquainted with.

Lov. [Saluting Ber.] If my Wife never desires a harder thing, Madam, her Request will be easily granted.

Ber. [To Aman.] I think, Madam, I ought to wish you Joy.

Aman. Joy! Upon what?

Ber. Upon your Marriage: You were a Widow when I saw you last.

Lov. You ought rather, Madam, to wish me Joy upon that, since I am the only Gainer.

Ber. If she has got so good a Husband as the World reports, she has gain'd enough to expect the Compliment of her Friends upon it.

Lov. If the World is so favourable to me, to allow I deserve that Title, I hope 'tis so just to my Wife, to own I derive it from her.

Ber. Sir, it is so just to you both, to own you are, and deserve to be, the happiest Pair that live in it.

Lov. I'm afraid we shall lose that Character, Madam, whenever you happen to change your Condition.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Sir, my Lord Foppington presents his humble Service to you, and desires to know how you do. He but just now heard you were in Town. He's at the next Door; and if it be not inconvenient, he'll come and wait upon you.

Lov. Lord Foppington!—I know him not.

Ber. Not his Dignity, perhaps, but you do his Person. 'Tis Sir Novelty; he has bought a Barony, in order to marry a great Fortune: His Patent has not been pass'd above eight-and-forty-Hours, and he has already sent How do-ye's to all the Town, to make 'em acquainted with his Title.

Lov. Give my Service to his Lordship, and let him know, I am proud of the Honour he intends me.

[Ex..

Ser. Sure this Addition of Quality must have so improv'd this Coxcomb, he can't but be very good Company for a quarter of an Hour.

Aman. Now it moves my Pity more than my Mirth, to see a Man whom Nature has made no Fool, be so very industrious to pass for an Ass.

Lov. No, there you are wrong, Amanda; you shou'd never bestow your Pity upon those who take pains for your Contempt; Pity those whom Nature abuses, but never those who abuse Nature.

Ber. Besides, the Town wou'd be robb'd of one of its chiefest Diversions, if it shou'd become a Crime to laugh at a Fool.

Aman. I could never yet perceive the Town inclin'd to part with any of its Diversions, for the sake of their being Crimes; but I have seen it very fond of some, I think, had little else to recommend 'em.

Ber. I doubt, Amanda, you are grown its Enemy, you speak with so much warmth against it.

Aman. I must confess I am not much its Friend.

Ber. Then give me leave to make you mine, by not engaging in its Quarrel.

Aman. You have many stronger Claims than that, Berinthia, whenever you think fit to plead your Title.

Lov. You have done well to engage a Second, my Dear; for here comes one will be apt to call you to an Account for your Country Principles.

Enter Lord Foppington.

Lord Fop. [To Lov.] Sir, I am your most humble Servant.

Lav. I wish you Joy, my Lord.

Lord Fop. O Laird, Sir——Madam, your Ladyship's welcome to Tawn.

Aman. I wish your Lordship Joy.

Lord Fop. O Heavens, Madam——

Lov. My Lord, this young Lady is a Relation of my Wife's.

Lord Fop. [Saluting her.] The beautifullest Race of People upon Earth, Rat me. Dear Loveless, I am overjoy'd to see you have brought your Family to Tawn again: I am, stap my Vitals—[Aside.] For I design to lie with your Wife. [To Aman.] Far Gad's sake, Madam, haw has your Ladyship been able to subsist thus long, under the Fatigue of a Country Life?

Aman. My life has been very far from that, my Lord, it has been a very quiet one.

Lord Fop. Why that's the Fatigue I speak of, Madam: For 'tis impossible to be quiet, without thinking: Now thinking is to me the greatest Fatigue in the World.

Aman. Does not your Lordship love reading then?

Lord Fop. Oh, passionately, Madam——But I never think of what I read.

Ber. Why, can your Lordship read without thinking?

Lord Fop. O Lard——Can your Ladyship pray without Devotion——Madam?

Aman. Well, I must own I think Books the best Entertainment in the World.

Lord Fop. I am so much of your Ladyship's Mind, Madam, that I have a private Gallery, where I walk sometimes, is furnished with nothing but Books and Looking-glasses. Madam, I have gilded them, and rang'd 'em, so prettily, before Gad, it is the most entertaining thing in the World to walk and look upon 'em.

Aman. Nay, I love a neat Library too; but 'tis, I think, the inside of a Book shou'd recommend it most to us.

Lord Fop. That, I must confess, I am not altogether so fand of. Far to my mind the Inside of a Book, is to entertain one's self with the forc'd Product of another Man's Brain. Naw I think a Man of Quality and Breeding may be much diverted with the natural Sprauts of his own. But to say the truth, Madam, let a Man love reading never so well, when once he comes to know this Tawn, he finds so many better ways of passing away the Four-and-twenty Hours, that 'twere ten thousand Pities he shou'd consume his time in that. Far example, Madam, my Life; my Life, Madam, is a perpetual Stream of Pleasure, that glides thro' such a Variety of Entertainments, I believe the wisest of our Ancestors never had the least Conception of any of 'em.

I rise, Madam, about ten o'clock. I don't rise sooner, because 'tis the worst thing in the World for the Complection; nat that I pretend to be a Beau; but a Man must endeavour to look wholesome, lest he make to nauseous a Figure in the Side-bax, the Ladies shou'd be compell'd to turn their eyes upon the Play. So at Ten o'clock, I say, I rise. Naw, if I find it a good Day, I resalve to take a Turn in the Park, and see the fine Women; so huddle on my Clothes, and get dress'd by One. If it be nasty Weather, I take a Turn in the Chocolate-house; where, as you walk, Madam, you have the prettiest Prospect in the World; you have Looking-glasses all round you——But I'm afraid I tire the Company.

Ber. Not at all. Pray go on.

Lord Fop. Why then, Ladies, from thence I go to Dinner at Lacket's, and there you are so nicely and delicately serv'd, that, stap my Vitals, they can compose you a Dish, no bigger than a Saucer, shall come to fifty Shillings; between eating my Dinner, and washing my Mouth, Ladies, I spend my time, till I go to the Play; where, till Nine o'clock, I entertain myself with looking upon the Company; and usually dispose of one Hour more in leading them aut. So there's Twelve of the Four-and-Twenty pretty well over. The other Twelve, Madam, are disposed of in two Articles: In the first Four I toast myself drunk, and in t'other Eight I sleep myself sober again. Thus, Ladies, you see my Life is an eternal raund O of Delights.

Lov. 'Tis a heavenly one, indeed!

Aman. But, my Lord, you Beaux spend a great deal of your Time in Intrigues: You have given us no Account of them yet.

Lord Fop. [Aside.] Soh, she wou'd enquire into my Amours——That's Jealousy——She begins to be in love with me. [To Aman.] Why, Madam——as to time for my Intrigues, I usually make Detachments of it from my other Pleasures, according to the Exigency. Far your Ladyship may please to take notice, that those who intrigue with Women of Quality, have rarely occasion for above half an Hour at a time: People of that Rank being under those Decorums, they can seldom give you a larger View, than will justly serve to shoot 'em flying. So that the Course of my other Pleasures is not very much interrupted by my Amours.

Lov. But your Lordship now is become a Pillar of the State; you must attend the weighty Affairs of the Nation.

Lord Fop. Sir——as to weighty Affairs——I leave them to weighty Heads. I never intend mine shall be a Burden to my Body.

Lov. O, but you'll find the House will expect your Attendance.

Lord Fop. Sir, you'll find the House will compound for my Appearance.

Lov. But your Friends will take it ill if you don't attend their particular Causes.

Lord Fop. Not, Sir, if I come time enough to give 'em my particular Vote.

Ber. But pray, my Lord, how do you dispose of yourself on Sundays? for that, methinks, shou'd hang wretchedly on your hands.

Lord Fop. Why, faith, Madam——Sunday——is a vile day, I must confess; I intend to move for leave to bring in a Bill, That Players may work upon it, as well as the Hackney Coaches. Tho' this I must say for the Government, it leaves us the Churches to entertain us——But then again, they begin so abominable early, a Man must rise by Candle-light to get dress'd by the Psalm.

Ber. Pray which Church does your Lordship most oblige with your Presence?

Lord Fop. Oh, St. James's, Madam——There's much the best Company.

Aman. Is there good Preaching too?

Lord Fop. Why, faith, Madam——I can't tell. A Man must have very little to do there, that can give an Account of the Sermon.

Ber. You can give us an Account of the Ladies, at least.

Lord Fop. Or I deserve to be excommunicated—There is my Lady Tattle, my Lady Prate, my Lady Titter, my Lady Lear, my Lady Giggle, and my Lady Grin. These fit in the Front of the Boxes, and all Church-time are the prettiest Company in the World, stap my Vitals. [To Aman.] Mayn't we hope for the Honour to see your Ladyship added to our Society, Madam?

Aman. Alas, my Lord, I am the worst Company in the World at Church: I'm apt to mind the Prayers, or the Sermon, or——

Lord Fop. One is indeed strangely apt at Church to mind what one should not do. But I hope, Madam, at one time or other, I shall have the Honour to lead your Ladyship to your Coach there. [Aside.] Methinks she seems strangely pleas'd with every thing I say to her—'Tis a vast pleasure to receive Encouragement from a Woman before her Husband's Face——I have a good mind to pursue my Conquest, and speak the thing plainly to her at once—I'gad, I'll do't, and that in so Cavalier a manner, she shall be surpriz'd at it—Ladies, I'll take my Leave: I'am afraid I begin to grow troublesome with the length of my Visit.

Aman. Your Lordship is too entertaining to grow troublesome any where.

Lord Fop. [Aside.] That now was as much as if she had said——Pray lie with me. I'll let her see I'm quick of Apprehension. [To Aman.] O Lard, Madam, I had like to have forgot a Secret, I must needs tell your Ladyship. [To Lov.] Ned, you must not be so jealous now as to listen.

Lov. Not I, my Lord; I'm too fashionable a Husband to pry into the Secrets of my Wife.

Lord Fop. [To Aman. squeezing her Hand.] I am in love with you to Desperation, strike me speechless.

Aman. [Giving him a Box o' th' Ear.] Then thus I return your Passion——An impudent Fool!

Lord Fop. Gad's Curse, Madam, I'm a Peer of the Realm.

Lov. Hey; what the Devil, do you affront my Wife, Sir? Nay then—

[They draw and fight. The Women run shrieking for Help.

Aman. Ah! What has my Folly done? Help! Murder, help! Part 'em, for Heaven's sake.

Lord Fop. [Falling back, and leaning upon his Sword.] Ah——quite thro' the Body——Stap my Vitals.

Enter Servants.

Lov. [Running to him.] I hope I han't kill'd the Fool, however——Bear him up! Where's your Wound?

Lord Fop. Just thro' the Guts.

Lov. Call a Surgeon there: Unbutton him quickly.

Lord Fop. Ay, pray make haste.

Lov. This Mischief you may thank yourself for.

Lord Fop. I may so—Love's the Devil indeed, Ned.

Enter Syringe and Servant.

Serv. Here's Mr. Syringe, Sir, was just going by the Door.

Lord Fop. He's the welcomest Man alive.

Syr. Stand by, stand by, stand by. Pray, Gentlemen, stand by. Lord have mercy upon us! Did you never see a Man run thro' the Body before? Pray stand by.

Lord Fop. Ah, Mr. Syringe.——I'm a dead Man.

Syr. A dead Man, and I by——I shou'd laugh to see that, I'gad.

Lov. Pr'ythee don't stand prating, but look upon his Wound.

Syr. Why, what if I won't look upon his Wound this Hour, Sir?

Lov. Why then he'll bleed to Death, Sir.

Syr. Why, then I'll fetch him to life again, Sir.

Lov. 'Slife, he's run thro' the Guts, I tell thee.

Syr. Wou'd he were run thro' the Heart, I shou'd get the more Credit by his Cure. Now I hope you are satisfy'd?——Come, now let me come at him; now let me come at him. [Viewing his Wound.] Oons, what a Gash is here!—Why, Sir, a Man may drive a Coach and Six Horses into your Body.

Lord Fop. Ho——

Syr. Why, what the Devil, have you run the Gentleman thro' with a Scythe?——[Aside.] A little Prick between the Skin and the Ribs, that's all.

Lov. Let me see his Wound.

Syr. Then you shall dress it, Sir; for if any body looks upon it, I won't.

Lov. Why, thou art the veriest Coxcomb I ever saw.

Syr. Sir, I am not Matter of my Trade for nothing.

Lord Fop. Surgeon!

Syr. Well, Sir.

Lord Fop. Is there any Hopes?

Syr. Hopes!—--I can't tell——What are you willing to give for your Cure?

Lord Fop. Five hundred Paunds with Pleasure.

Syr. Why then perhaps there may be Hopes. But we must avoid further Delay. Here, help the Gentleman into a Chair, and carry him to my House presently, that's the properest place [Aside.] to bubble him out of his Money. Come, a Chair, a Chair quickly—There, in with him.

[They put him into a Chair.

Lord Fop. Dear Loveless——Adieu. If I die——I forgive thee; and if I live——I hope thou wilt do as much by me. I am very sorry you and I shou'd quarrel; but I hope here's an end on't, for if you are satisfy'd——I am.

Lov. I shall hardly think it worth my prosecuting any farther, so you may be at rest, Sir.

Lord Fop. Thou art a generous Fellow, strike me dumb. [Aside.] But thou hast an impertinent Wife, stap my Vitals.

Syr. So, carry him off, carry him off, we shall have him prate himself into a Fever by and by; carry him off.

[Ex. Serv. with L. Fop.

Aman. Now on my Knees, my Dear, let me ask your pardon for my Indiscretion, my own I never shall obtain.

Lov. Oh, there's no harm done: You serv'd him well.

Aman. He did indeed deserve it. But I tremble to think how dear my indiscreet Resentment might have cost you.

Lov. O, no matter; never trouble yourself about that.

Ber. For Heaven's sake, what was't he did to you?

Aman. O nothing; he only squeez'd me kindly by the Hand, and frankly offer'd me a Coxcomb's Heart. I know I was to blame to resent it as I did, since nothing but a Quarrel could ensue. But the Fool so surpriz'd me with his Insolence, I was not Mistress of my Fingers.

Ber. Now I dare swear, he thinks you had 'em at great Command, they obey'd you so readily.

Enter Worthy.

Wor. Save you, save you, good People; I'm glad to find you all alive; I met a wounded Peer carrying off. For Heav'ns sake, what was the matter?

Lov. O, a Trifle: He would have lain with my Wife before my Face, so she oblig'd him with a Box o'the Ear, and I run him thro' the Body: That was all.

Wor. Bagatelle on all sides. But, pray, Madam, how long has this noble Lord been an humble Servant of yours?

Aman. This is the first I have heard on't. So I suppose 'tis his Quality, more than his Love, has brought him into this Adventure. He thinks his Title an authentick Passport to every Woman's Heart, below the Degree of a Peeress.

Wor. He's Coxcomb enough to think any thing. But I wou'd not have you brought into Trouble for him: I hope there's no Danger of his Life?

Lov. None at all: He's fallen into the Hands of a roguish Surgeon, who I perceive designs to frighten a little Money out of him. But I saw his Wound, 'tis nothing; he may go to the Play to-night, if he pleases.

Wor. I'm glad you have corrected him without farther Mischief. And now, Sir, if these Ladies have no farther Service for you, you'll oblige me if you can go to the Place I spoke to you of t'other Day.

Lov. With all my Heart. [Aside.] Tho' I cou'd wish, methinks, to stay and gaze a little longer on that Creature. Good God! How beautiful she is!—But what have I to do with Beauty? I have already had my Portion, and must not covet more. Come, Sir, when you please.

[To Wor.

Wor. Ladies, your Servant. Aman. Mr. Loveless, pray one Word with you before you go.

Lov. to Wor.] I'll overtake you, Sir: What wou'd my Dear?

Aman. Only a Woman's foolish Question, How do you like my Cousin here?

Lov. Jealous already, Amanda?

Aman. Not at all; I ask you for another Reason.

Lov. Aside.] Whate'er her Reason be, I must not tell her true. [To Aman.] Why, I confess she's handsome. But you must not think I slight your Kinswoman, if I own to you, of all the Women who may claim that Character, she is the last wou'd triumph in my Heart.

Aman. I'm satisfy'd.

Lov. Now tell me why you ask'd?

Aman. At Night I will. Adieu.

Lov. I'm yours. [Kissing her.]

[Exit Lov.

Aman. [Aside.] I'm glad to find he does not like her; for I have a great mind to persuade her to come and live with me. [To Ber.] Now, dear Berinthia, let me enquire a little into your Affairs: for I do assure you, I am enough your Friend, to interest myself in every thing that concerns you.

Ber. You formerly have given me such Proofs on't, I shou'd be very much to blame to doubt it; I am sorry I have no Secrets to trust you with, that I might convince you how entire a Confidence I durst repose in you.

Aman. Why is it possible, that one so young and beautiful as you, shou'd live and have no Secrets?

Ber. What Secrets do you mean?

Aman. Lovers.

Ber. O Twenty; but not one secret one amongst 'em. Lovers in this Age have too much Honour to do any thing under-hand; they do all above-board.

Aman. That now, methinks, wou'd make me hate a Man.

Ber. But the Women of the Town are of another mind: For by this means a Lady may, with the Expence of a few Coquet Glances, lead twenty Fools about in a String, for two or three Years together. Whereas, if she shou'd allow 'em greater Favours, and oblige 'em to Secrecy, she wou'd not keep one of 'em a Fortnight.

Aman. There's something indeed in That to satisfy the Vanity of a Woman, but I can't comprehend how the Men find their Account in it.

Ber. Their Entertainment, I must confess, is a Riddle to me. For there's very few of them ever get farther than a Bow and an Ogle. I have half a Score for my share, who follow me all over the Town; and at the Play, the Park, and the Church, do, with their Eyes, say the violent'st things to me——But I never hear any more of 'em.

Aman. What can be the Reason of that?

Ber. One Reason is, They don't know how to go farther. They have had so little Practice, they don't understand the Trade. But besides their Ignorance, you must know there is not one of my half-score Lovers but what follows half a score Mistresses. Now their Affections being divided amongst so many, are not strong enough for any one, to make 'em pursue her to the Purpose. Like a young Puppy in a Warren, they have a Flirt at all, and catch none.

Aman. Yet they seem to have a Torrent of Love to dispose of.

Ber. They have so: But 'tis like the River of a Modern Philosopher, whose Works, tho' a Woman, I have read: it sets out with a violent Stream, splits in a thousand Branches, and is all lost in the Sands.

Aman. But do you think this River of Love runs all its Course without doing any Mischief? Do you think it overflows nothing?

Ber. O yes; 'tis true, it never breaks into any body's Ground that has the least Fence about it; but it overflows all the Commons that lie in its way. And this is the utmost Achievement of those dreadful Champions in the Field of Love—the Beaux.

Aman. But pr'ythee, Berinthia, instruct me a little farther; for I am so great a Novice, I'm almost asham'd on't. My Husband's leaving me whilst I was young and fond, threw me into that Depth of Discontent, that ever since I have led so private and recluse a Life, my Ignorance is scarce conceivable. I therefore fain would be instructed: Not, Heaven knows, that what you call Intrigues have any Charms for me: my Love and Principles are too well fix'd. The practick Part of all unlawful Love is——

Ber. O 'tis abominable: But for the Speculative—that we must all confess is entertaining. The Conversation of all the virtuous Women in the Town turns upon that and new Clothes.

Aman. Pray be so just then to me, to believe, 'tis with a World of Innocency I wou'd enquire, Whether you think those Women we call Women of Reputation, do really 'scape all other Men, as they do those Shadows of 'em, the Beaux.

Ber. O no, Amanda; there are a sort of Men make dreadful Work amongst 'em: Men that may be call'd The Beaux Antipathy; for they agree in nothing but walking upon two Legs.

These have Brains: The Beau has none.

These are in Love with their Mistress: The Beau with himself.

They take care of her Reputation: He's industrious to destroy it.

They are decent: He's a Fop.

They are sound: He's rotten.

They are Men: He's an Ass.

Aman. If this be their Character, I fancy we had here e'en now a Pattern of 'em both.

Ber. His Lordship and Mr. Worthy?

Aman. The same.

Ber. As for the Lord, he's eminently so; And for the other, I can assure you, there's not a Man in Town who has a better Interest with the Women, that are worth having an Interest with. But 'tis all private: He's like a Back-stair Minister at Court, who, whilst the reputed Favourites are sauntering in the Bed-chamber, is ruling the Roast in the Closet.

Aman. He answers then the Opinion I had ever of him. Heavens! What a difference there is between a Man like him, and that vain nauseous Fop, Sir Novelty! [Taking her Hand.] I must acquaint you with a Secret, Cousin. 'Tis not that Fool alone has talked to me of Love, Worthy has been tampering too: 'Tis true, he has done it in vain: Not all his Charms or Art have power to shake me. My Love, my Duty, and my Virtue, are such faithful Guards, I need not fear my Heart shou'd e'er betray me. But what I wonder at is this: I find I did not start at his Proposal, as when it came from one whom I contemn'd. I therefore mention this Attempt, that I may learn from you whence it proceeds, that Vice, which cannot change its Nature, shou'd so far change at least its Shape, as that the self-same Crime propos'd from one shall seem a Monster gaping at your Ruin, when from another it shall look so kind, as tho' it were your Friend, and never meant to harm you. Whence think you, can this Difference proceed? For 'tis not Love, Heaven knows.

Ber. O no; I wou'd not for the World believe it were. But possibly, shou'd there a dreadful Sentence pass upon you, to undergo the Rage of both their Passions; the Pain you apprehend from one might seem so trivial to the other, the Danger wou'd not quite so much alarm you.

Aman. Fy, fy, Berinthia! you wou'd indeed alarm me, cou'd you incline me to a Thought, that all the Merit of Mankind combin'd, cou'd shake that tender Love I bear my Husband: No, he sits triumphant in my Heart, and nothing can dethrone him.

Ber. But shou'd he abdicate again, do you think you shou'd preserve the vacant Throne ten tedious Winters more, in hopes of his return?

Aman. Indeed I think I shou'd. Tho' I confess, after those Obligations he has to me, shou'd he abandon me once more, my Heart wou'd grow extremely urgent with me to root him thence, and cast him out for ever.

Ber. Were I that thing they call a slighted Wife, some Body shou'd run the risque of being that thing they call—a Husband.

Aman. O fy, Berinthia! No Revenge shou'd ever be taken against a Husband: But to wrong his Bed is a Vengeance, which of all Vengeance——

Ber. Is the sweetest—ha, ha, ha! Don't I talk madly?

Aman. Madly indeed.

Ber. Yet I'm very innocent.

Aman. That I dare swear you are. I know how to make Allowances for your Humour: You were always very entertaining Company; but I find since Marriage and Widowhood have shewn you the World a little, you are very much improv'd.

Ber. [Aside.] Alack a-day, there has gone more than that to improve me, if she knew all.

Aman. For Heaven's sake, Berinthia, tell me what way I shall take to persuade you to come and live with me?

Ber. Why, one way in the World there is——and but one.

Aman. Pray which is that?

Ber. It is to assure me—I shall be very welcome.

Aman. If that be all, you shall e'en lie here to-night.

Ber. To-night?

Aman. Yes, to-night.

Ber. Why, the People where I lodge will think me mad.

Aman. Let 'em think what they please.

Ber. Say you so, Amanda? Why then they shall think what they please: For I'm a young Widow, and I care not what any body thinks. Ah, Amanda, it's a delicious thing to be a young Widow.

Aman. You'll hardly make me think so.

Ber. Phu, because you are in love with your Husband: but that is not every Woman's Case.

Aman. I hope 'twas yours, at least.

Ber. Mine, say ye? Now I have a great mind to tell you a Lye, but I shou'd do it so aukwardly, you'd find me out.

Aman. Then e'en speak the Truth.

Ber. Shall I?——Then after all, I did love him, Amanda——as a Nun does Penance. Aman. Why did not you refuse to marry him, then?

Ber. Because my Mother wou'd have whipt me.

Aman. How did you live together?

Ber. Like Man and Wife—asunder;

He lov'd the Country, I the Town.

He Hawks and Hounds, I Coaches and Equipage.

He Eating and Drinking, I Carding and Playing.

He the Sound of a Horn, I the Squeak of a Fiddle.

We were dull Company at Table, worse a-bed.

Whenever we met, we gave one another the Spleen.

And never agreed but once, which was about lying alone.

Aman. But tell me one thing truly and sincerely.

Ber. What's that?

Aman. Notwithstanding all these Jars, did not his Death at last extremely trouble you?

Ber. O yes: Not that my present Pangs were so very violent, but the After-pains were intolerable. I was forc'd to wear a beastly Widow's Band a Twelvemonth for't.

Aman. Women, I find, have different Inclinations.

Ber. Women, I find, keep different Company. When your Husband ran away from you, if you had fallen into some of my Acquaintance, 'twou'd have sav'd you many a Tear. But you go and live with a Grandmother, a Bishop, and an old Nurse, which was enough to make any Woman break her Heart for her Husband. Pray, Amanda, if ever you are a Widow again, keep yourself so as I do.

Aman. Why, do you then resolve you'll never marry?

Ber. O, no; I resolve I will.

Aman. How so?

Ber. That I never may.

Aman. You banter me.

Ber. Indeed I don't. But I consider I'm a Woman, and form my Resolutions accordingly.

Aman. Well, my Opinion is, form what Resolution you will, Matrimony will be the end on't.

Ber. Faith it won't.

Aman. How do you know?

Ber. I'm sure on't.

Aman. Why, do you think 'tis impossible for you to fall in love?

Ber. No.

Aman. Nay, but to grow so passionately fond, that nothing but the Man you love can give you rest?

Ber. Well, what then?

Aman. Why, then you'll marry him.

Ber. How do you know that?

Aman. Why, what can you do else?

Ber. Nothing—but sit and cry.

Aman. Psha.

Ber. Ah, poor Amanda, you have led a Country Life: But if you'll consult the Widows of this Town, they'll tell you, you shou'd never take a Lease of a House you can hire for a Quarter's Warning.

[Exeunt.