Читать книгу Plays, written by Sir John Vanbrugh, volume the first - John Vanbrugh - Страница 16

Enter Young Fashion and Lory.

Young Fash. So, here's our Inheritance, Lory, if we can but get into Possession. But, methinks, the Seat of our Family looks like Noah's Ark, as if the chief part on't were design'd for the Fowls of the Air, and the Beasts of the Field.

Lo. Pray, Sir, don't let your Head run upon the Orders of Building here; get but the Heiress, let the Devil take the House.

Young Fash. Get but the House, let the Devil take the Heiress, I say; at least if she be as old Coupler describes her. But come, we have no time to squander. Knock at the Door. [Lory knocks two or three times.] What the Devil, have they got no Ears in this House? Knock harder.

Lo. I'gad, Sir, this will prove some inchanted Castle; we shall have the Giant come out by and by with his Club, and beat our Brains out.

[Knocks again.

Young Fash. Hush! they come.

From within.] Who is there?

Lo. Open the Door and see: Is that your Country Breeding?

Within. Ay, but two Words to a Bargain: Tummus, is the Blunderbuss prim'd?

Young Fash. Oons, give 'em good Words, Lory; we shall be shot here a Fortune-catching.

Lo. I'gad, Sir, I think y'are in the right on't. Ho, Mr. What d'ye-call-um.—[Servant appears at the Window with a Blunderbuss.] Weal naw, what's yar Business?

Young Fash. Nothing, Sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with your leave.

Ser. To weat upon Sir Tunbelly? Why, you'll find that's just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.

Young Fash. But will you do me the Favour, Sir, to know whether Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?

Ser. Why, look you, do you see, with good Words, much may be done. Ralph, go thy weas, and ask Sir Tunbelly if he pleases to be waited upon. And, do'st hear? call to Nurse, that she may lock up Miss Hoyden before the Gates open.

Young Fash. D'ye hear that, Lory?

Lo. Ay, Sir, I'm afraid we shall find a difficult Jobb on't. Pray Heaven that old Rogue Coupler han't sent us to fetch Milk out of the Gunroom!

Young Fash. I'll warrant thee all will go well: See; the Door opens.

Enter Sir Tunbelly, with his Servants arm'd with Guns, Clubs, Pitchforks, Scythes, &c.

Lo. [Running behind his Master.] O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, we are both dead Men!

Young Fash. Take heed, Fool, thy Fear will ruin us.

Lo. My Fear, Sir—'Sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing. [Aside.] Wou'd I were well up to the Chin in a Horse-Pond!

Sir Tun. Who is it here has any Business with me?

Young Fash. Sir, 'tis I, if your Name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsey.

Sir Tun. Sir, my Name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsey, whether you have any Business with me or not. So you see I am not asham'd of my Name—nor my Face—neither.

Young Fash. Sir, you have no cause, that I know of.

Sir Tun. Sir, if you have no cause neither, I desire to know who you are; for till I know your Name, I shall not ask you to come into my House; and when I know your Name—'tis six to four I don't ask you neither.

Young Fash. [Giving him a Letter.] Sir, I hope you'll find this Letter an Authentick Passport.

Sir Tun. God's my life, I ask your Lordship's Pardon ten thousand times. [To his Servant.] Here, run in a-doors quickly: Get a Scotch-Coal Fire in the great Parlour; set all the Turkey-work-Chairs in their places; get the great Brass Candlesticks out; and be sure stick the Sockets full of Laurel; run. [Turning to Young Fash.] My Lord, I ask your Lordship's pardon. [To other Servants.] And do you hear, run away to Nurse, bid her let Miss Hoyden loose again, and if it was not shifting Day, let her put on a clean Tucker—quick!

[Exeunt Servants confusedly.

To Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse the disorder of my Family; we are not us'd to receive Men of your Lordship's great Quality every day; pray where are your Coaches and Servants, my Lord?

Young Fash. Sir, that I might give you and your fair Daughter a proof how impatient I am to be nearer akin to you, I left my Equipage to follow me, and came away Post with only one servant.

Sir Tun. Your Lordship does me too much Honour. It was exposing your Person to too much Fatigue and Danger, I protest it was; but my Daughter shall endeavour to make you what amends she can; and tho' I say it, that shou'd not say it—Hoyden has Charms.

Young Fash. Sir, I am not a Stranger to them, tho' I am to her. Common Fame has done her Justice.

Sir Tun. My Lord, I am common Fame's very grateful humble Servant. My Lord——my Girl's young: Hoyden is young, my Lord; but this I must say for her, what she wants in Art, she has by Nature; what she wants in Experience, she has in Breeding; and what's wanting in her Age, is made good in her Constitution. So pray, my Lord, walk in; pray, my Lord, walk in.

Young Fash. Sir, I wait upon you.

[Exeunt.

Miss Hoyden sola.

Sure never no body was us'd as I am. I know well enough what other Girls do, for all they think to make a Fool of me: It's well I have a Husband a coming, or I'cod, I'd marry the Baker, I wou'd so. No body can knock at the Gate, but presently I must be lockt up; and here's the young Greyhound Bitch can run loose about the House all the day long, she can; 'tis very well.

Nurse without, opening the Door.

Miss Hoyden! Miss, Miss, Miss! Miss Hoyden!

Enter Nurse.

Miss. Well, what do you make such a Noise for, ha! What do you din a body's Ears for? Can't one be at quiet for you?

Nurse. What do I din your Ears for? Here's one come will din your Ears for you.

Miss. What care I who's come? I care not a Fig who comes, nor who goes, as long as I shall be lockt up like the Ale-Cellar.

Nurse. That, Miss, is for fear you shou'd be drank before you are ripe.

Miss. O, don't you trouble your Head about that; I'm as ripe as you, tho' not so mellow.

Nurse. Very well; now I have a good mind to lock you up again, and not let you see my Lord to-night.

Miss. My Lord! Why, is my Husband come?

Nurse. Yes, marry is he, and a goodly Person too.

Miss. [Hugging Nurse.] O my dear Nurse, forgive, me this once, and I'll never misuse you again; no, if I do, you shall give me three thumps on the Back, and a great pinch by the Cheek.

Nurse. Ah the poor Thing, see how it melts; it's as full of Good-Nature as an Egg's full of Meat.

Miss. But, my dear Nurse, don't lie now; is he come, by your troth?

Nurse. Yes, by my truly, is he.

Miss. O Lord! I'll go and put on my lac'd Smock, tho' I am whipt till the Blood run down my Heels for't.

[Exit running.

Nurse. Eh——the Lord succour thee, how thou art delighted!

[Exit after her.

Enter Sir Tunbelly and Young Fashion. A Servant with Wine.

Sir Tun. My Lord, I'm proud of the Honour to see your Lordship within my Doors: and I humbly crave leave to bid you welcome in a Cup of Sack Wine.

Young Fash. Sir, to your Daughter's Health.

[Drinks.

Sir Tun. Ah poor Girl, she'll be fear'd out of her Wits on her Wedding Night; for, honestly speaking, she does not know a Man from a Woman, but by his Beard, and his Breeches.

Young Fash. Sir, I don't doubt she has had a virtuous Education, which, with the rest of her Merit, makes me long to see her mine. I wish you wou'd dispense with the Canonical Hour, and let it be this very Night.

Sir Tun. O not so soon, neither; that's shooting my Girl before you bid her stand. No, give her fair warning, we'll sign and seal to-night if you please; and this Day seven-night—let the Jade look to her Quarters.

Young Fash. This Day seven-night——Why, what do you take me for a Ghost, Sir? 'Slife, Sir, I'm made of Flesh and Blood, and Bones and Sinews, and can no more live a Week without your Daughter—than I can live a Month with her.

[Aside.

Sir Tun. Oh, I'll warrant you, my Hero; young Men are hot, I know, but they don't boil over at that rate, neither; besides, my Wench's Wedding Gown is not come home yet.

Young Fash. O, no matter, Sir; I'll take her in her Shift. [Aside.] A Pox of this old Fellow, he'll delay the Business till my damn'd Star finds me out, and discovers me. [To Sir Tun.] Pray, Sir, let it be done without Ceremony; 'twill save Money.

Sir Tun. Money——Save Money when Hoyden's to be marry'd? Udswoons, I'll give my Wench a Wedding-Dinner, tho' I go to Grass with the King of Assyria for't; and such a Dinner it shall be, as is not to be cook'd in the poaching of an Egg. Therefore, my Noble Lord, have a little Patience, we'll go and look over our Deeds and Settlements immediately; and as for your Bride, tho' you may be sharp-set before she's quite ready, I'll engage for my Girl, she stays your Stomach at last.

[Exeunt.