Читать книгу Plays, written by Sir John Vanbrugh, volume the first - John Vanbrugh - Страница 15

Enter Loveless and Servant.

Lov. Is my Wife within?

Ser. No, Sir, she has been gone out this Half-hour.

Lov. 'Tis well; leave me.

Solus.

Sure Fate has yet some Business to be done,

Before Amanda's Heart and mine must rest; Else, why amongst those Legions of her Sex, Which throng the World, Shou'd she pick out for her Companion The only one on Earth Whom Nature has endow'd for her undoing? Undoing was't, I said——Who shall undo her? Is not her Empire fix'd? Am I not hers? Did she not rescue me, a groveling Slave, When, chain'd and bound by that black Tyrant Vice, I labour'd in his vilest Drudgery? Did she not ransom me, and set me free? Nay, more: When by my Follies sunk To a poor tatter'd, despicable Beggar, Did she not lift me up to envy'd Fortune? Give me herself, and all that she possest? Without a Thought of more Return, Than what a poor repenting Heart might make her, Han't she done this? And if she has, Am I not strongly bound to love her for it? To love her—Why, do I not love her then? By Earth and Heaven, I do! Nay, I have Demonstration that I do: For I would sacrifice my Life to serve her. Yet hold——If laying down my Life Be Demonstration of my Love, What is't I feel in favour of Berinthia? For shou'd she be in danger, methinks, I cou'd incline To risk it for her Service too; and yet I do not love her. How then subsists my Proof?— —O, I have found it out. What I would do for one, is Demonstration of my Love; And if I'd do as much for t'other: it there is Demonstration of my Friendship——Ay——it must be so. I find I'm very much her Friend.—Yet let me ask myself one puzzling Question more: Whence springs this mighty Friendship all at once? For our Acquaintance is of a later Date. Now Friendship's said to be a Plant of tedious Growth, its Root compos'd of tender Fibres, nice in their Taste, cautious in spreading, check'd with the least Corruption in the Soil, long ere it take, and longer still ere it appear to do so; whilst mine is in a Moment shot so high, and fix'd so fast, it seems beyond the Power of Storms to shake it. I doubt it thrives too fast.

[Musing.

Enter Berinthia.

—Ah, she here!—Nay, then take heed, my Heart, for

there are Dangers towards.

Ber. What makes you look so thoughtful, Sir? I hope you are not ill.

Lov. I was debating, Madam, whether I was so or not; and that was it which made me look so thoughtful.

Ber. Is it then so hard a matter to decide? I thought all People had been acquainted with their own Bodies, tho' few People know their own Minds.

Lov. What if the Distemper, I suspect, be in the Mind?

Ber. Why then I'll undertake to prescribe you a Cure.

Lov. Alas, you undertake you know not what.

Ber. So far at least then allow me to be a Physician.

Lov. Nay, I'll allow you so yet farther: For I have reason to believe, shou'd I put myself into your Hands, you wou'd increase my Distemper.

Ber. Perhaps I might have Reasons from the College not to be too quick in your Cure; but 'tis possible, I might find ways to give you often Ease, Sir.

Lov. Were I but sure of that, I'd quickly lay my Case before you.

Ber. Whether you are sure of it or no, what Risk do you run in trying?

Lov. O, a very great one.

Ber. How?

Lov. You might betray my Distemper to my Wife.

Ber. And so lose all my Practice.

Lov. Will you then keep my Secret?

Ber. I will, if it don't burst me.

Lov. Swear.

Ber. I do.

Lov. By what?

Ber. By Woman.

Lov. That's swearing by my Deity. Do it by your own, or I shan't believe you.

Ber. By Man then.

Lov. I'm satisfy'd. Now hear my Symptoms, and give me your Advice. The first were these:

When 'twas my Chance to see you at the Play,

A random Glance you threw, at first alarm'd me,

I cou'd not turn my Eyes from whence the Danger came:

I gaz'd upon you, till you shot again,

And then my Fears came on me.

My Heart began to pant, my Limbs to tremble,

My Blood grew thin, my Pulse beat quick,

My Eyes grew hot and dim, and all the Frame of Nature

Shook with Apprehension.

'Tis true, some small Recruits of Resolution

My Manhood brought to my Assistance,

And by their Help I made a Stand a while,

But found at last your Arrows flew so thick,

They cou'd not fail to pierce me;

So left the Field,

And fled for shelter to Amanda's Arms. What think you of these Symptoms, pray?

Ber. Feverish every one of 'em. But what Relief pray did your Wife afford you?

Lov. Why, instantly she let me Blood, which for the present much assuag'd my Flame. But when I saw you, out it burst again, and rag'd with greater Fury than before. Nay, since you now appear, 'tis so increas'd, that in a Moment, if you do not help me, I shall, whilst you look on, consume to Ashes.

[Taking hold of her Hand.

Ber. [Breaking from him.] O Lard, let me go: 'Tis the Plague, and we shall all be infected.

Lov. [Catching her in his Arms, and kissing her.] Then we'll die together, my charming Angel.

Ber. O Ged——the Devil's in you. Lard, let me go, here's somebody coming.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Sir, my Lady's come home, and desires to speak with you: She's in her Chamber.

Lov. Tell her I'm coming.

[Exit Serv.

To Ber. But before I go, one Glass of Nectar more to drink her Health.

Ber. Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!

Lov. [Kissing her.] In Matters of Love, a Woman's Oath is no more to be minded than a Man's.

Ber. Um——

Enter Worthy.

Wor. Ha! What's here? my old Mistress, and so close, I'faith! I wou'd not spoil her Sport for the Universe.

[He retires.

Ber. O Ged——Now do I pray to Heaven, [Exit Loveless running.] with all my Heart and Soul, that the Devil in Hell may take me, if ever——I was better pleas'd in my Life—This Man has bewitch'd me, that's certain. [Sighing.] Well, I am condemn'd, but, Thanks to Heaven, I feel myself each Moment more and more prepar'd for my Execution—Nay, to that degree, I don't perceive I have the least fear of Dying. No, I find, let the Executioner be but a Man, and there's nothing will suffer with more Resolution than a Woman. Well, I never had but one Intrigue yet: But I confess I long to have another. Pray Heaven it end as the first did tho', that we may both grow weary at a time; for 'tis a melancholy thing for Lovers to outlive one another.

Enter Worthy.

Wor. [Aside.] This Discovery's a lucky one, I hope to make a happy use on't. That Gentlewoman there is no Fool; so I shall be able to make her understand her Interest. [To Ber.] Your Servant, Madam; I need not ask you how you do, you have got so good a Colour.

Ber. No better than I us'd to have, I suppose.

Wor. A little more Blood in your Cheeks.

Ber. The Weather's hot.

Wor. If it were not, a Woman may have a Colour.

Ber. What do you mean by that?

Wor. Nothing.

Ber. Why do you smile then?

Wor. Because the Weather's hot.

Ber. You'll never leave roguing, I see that.

Wor. [Putting his Finger to his Nose.] You'll never leave——I see that.

Ber. Well, I can't imagine what you drive at. Pray tell me what you mean?

Wor. Do you tell me, it's the same thing.

Ber. I can't.

Wor. Guess!

Ber. I shall guess wrong.

Wor. Indeed you won't.

Ber. Psha! either tell, or let it alone.

Wor. Nay, rather than let it alone, I will tell. But first I must put you in mind that, after what has past 'twixt you and I, very few things ought to be Secrets between us.

Ber. Why what Secrets do we hide? I know of none.

Wor. Yes, there are two; one I have hid from you, and t'other you wou'd hide from me. You are fond of Loveless, which I have discover'd; and I am fond of his Wife——

Ber. Which I have discover'd.

Wor. Very well; now I confess your Discovery to be true, what do you say to mine?

Ber. Why, I confess——I wou'd swear 'twere false, if I thought you were Fool enough to believe me.

Wor. Now am I almost in Love with you again. Nay, I don't know but I might be quite so, had I made one short Campaign with Amanda. Therefore, if you find 'twould tickle your Vanity, to bring me down once more to your Lure, e'en help me quickly to dispatch her Business, that I may have nothing else to do, but to apply myself to yours.

Ber. Do you then think, Sir, I am old enough to be a Bawd?

Wor. No, but I think you are wise enough to——

Ber. To do what?

Wor. To hoodwink Amanda with a Gallant, that she mayn't see who is her Husband's Mistress.

Ber. [Aside.] He has reason: The Hint's a good one.

Wor. Well, Madam, what think you on't?

Ber. I think you are so much a deeper Politician in these Affairs than I am, that I ought to have a very great regard to your Advice.

Wor. Then give me leave to put you in mind, that the most easy, safe, and pleasant Situation for your own Amour, is the House in which you now are; provided you keep Amanda from any sort of Suspicion. That the way to do that, is to engage her in an Intrigue of her own, making yourself her Confidante. And the way to bring her to intrigue, is to make her jealous of her Husband in a wrong place; which the more you foment, the less you'll be suspected. This is my Scheme, in short; which if you follow as you shou'd do, (my dear Berinthia) we may all four pass the Winter very pleasantly.

Ber. Well, I could be glad to have nobody's Sins to answer for but my own. But where there is a Necessity—

Wor. Right! as you say, where there is a Necessity, a Christian is bound to help his Neighbour. So, good Berinthia, lose no time, but let us begin the Dance as fast as we can.

Ber. Not till the Fiddles are in tune, pray, Sir. Your Lady's Strings will be very apt to fly, I can tell you that, if they are wound up too hastily. But if you'll have patience to skrew them to a pitch by degrees, I don't doubt but she may endure to be play'd upon.

Wor. Ay, and will make admirable Musick too, or I'm mistaken; but have you had no private Closet Discourse with her yet about Males and Females, and so forth, which may give you hopes in her Constitution; for I know her Morals are the Devil against us.

Ber. I have had so much Discourse with her, that I believe were she once cur'd of her fondness to her Husband, the Fortress of her Virtue wou'd not be so impregnable as she fancies.

Wor. What! she runs, I'll warrant you, into that common Mistake of fond Wives, who conclude themselves virtuous, because they can refuse a Man they don't like, when they have got one they do.

Ber. True, and there I think 'tis a presumptuous thing in a Woman to assume the Name of Virtuous, till she has heartily hated her Husband, and been soundly in love with somebody else. Whom if she has withstood—then—much good may it do her!

Wor. Well, so much for her Virtue. Now, one word of her Inclinations, and every one to their Post. What Opinion do you find she has of me?

Ber. What you cou'd wish; she thinks you handsome and discreet.

Wor. Good, that's thinking half Seas over. One Tide more brings us into Port.

Ber. Perhaps it may, tho' still remember, there's a difficult Bar to pass.

Wor. I know there is, but I don't question I shall get well over it, by the help of such a Pilot.

Ber. You may depend upon your Pilot, she'll do the best she can; so weigh Anchor, and be gone as soon as you please.

Wor. I'm under Sail already. Adieu.

[Exit Wor.

Ber. Bon Voyage.

Sola.

So, here's fine Work. What a Business have I undertaken! I'm a very pretty Gentlewoman, truly; but there was no avoiding it: He'd have ruin'd me, if I had refus'd him. Besides, faith, I begin to fancy there may be as much pleasure in carrying on another body's Intrigue, as one's own. This at least is certain, it exercises almost all the entertaining Faculties of a Woman: For there's employment for Hypocrisy, Invention, Deceit, Flattery, Mischief, and Lying.

Enter Amanda, her Woman following her.

Wom. If you please, Madam, only to say, whether you'll have me to buy 'em or not.

Aman. Yes, no, go fiddle; I care not what you do. Pr'ythee leave me.

Wom. I have done.

[Exit Wom.

Ber. What in the Name of Jove's the matter with you?

Aman. The matter, Berinthia! I'm almost mad, I'm plagu'd to death.

Ber. Who is it that plagues you?

Aman. Who do you think shou'd plague a Wife, but her Husband?

Ber. O ho, is it come to that? We shall have you wish yourself a Widow by and by.

Aman. Wou'd I were any thing but what I am! A base ungrateful Man, after what I have done for him, to use me thus!

Ber. What, he has been ogling now, I'll warrant you?

Aman. Yes, he has been ogling.

Ber. And so you are jealous? Is that all?

Aman. That all! Is jealousy then nothing?

Ber. It shou'd be nothing, if I were in your Case.

Aman. Why, what wou'd you do?

Ber. I'd cure myself.

Aman. How?

Ber. Let Blood in the fond Vein: Care as little for my Husband as he did for me.

Aman. That would not stop his Course.

Ber. Nor nothing else, when the Wind's in the warm Corner. Look you, Amanda, you may build Castles in the Air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin and lean, and pale and ugly, if you please. But I tell you, no Man worth having is true to his Wife, or can be true to his Wife, or ever was, or ever will be so.

Aman. Do you then really think he's false to me? for I did but suspect him.

Ber. Think so? I know he's so.

Aman. Is it possible? Pray tell me what you know.

Ber. Don't press me then to name Names; for that I have sworn I won't do.

Aman. Well, I won't; but let me know all you can without Perjury.

Ber. I'll let you know enough to prevent any wise Woman's dying of the Pip; and I hope you'll pluck up your Spirits, and shew, upon occasion, you can be as good a Wife as the best of 'em.

Aman. Well, what a Woman, can do I'll endeavour.

Ber. O, a Woman can do a great deal, if once she sets her mind to it. Therefore pray don't stand trifling any longer, and teasing yourself with this and that, and your Love and your Virtue, and I know not what. But resolve to hold up your Head, get a tiptoe, and look over them all; for to my certain knowledge your husband is a pickering elsewhere.

Aman. You are sure on't?

Ber. Positively, he fell in love at the Play.

Aman. Right, the very same; do you know the ugly thing?

Ber. Yes, I know her well enough; but she's no such ugly thing, neither.

Aman. Is she very handsome?

Ber. Truly I think so.

Aman. Hey-ho!

Ber. What do you sigh for now?

Aman. Oh my Heart!

Ber. [Aside.] Only the Pangs of Nature! she's in Labour of her Love; Heaven send her a quick Delivery! I'm sure she has a good Midwife.

Aman. I'm very ill, I must go to my Chamber; Dear Berinthia, don't leave me a Moment.

Ber. No, don't fear. [Aside.] I'll see you safe brought-to-bed, I'll warrant you.

[Exeunt, Amanda leaning upon Berinthia.