WHy Tom, as great Capacities are requir'd in a Lover as a Privy Councellour, and nothing looks so dull in a young Man as not to aim at Intrigue in all he does — my Rule was always to steal in at a Window and out at a Trap-door.
When there is no other way —
Other way! If there was I wou'd not use it — tis the Diffi∣culty and the Danger that make it pleasing and like design — I'd come if I cou'd thro' the Tyles and fall like Iove into her Lap.
Such thundring Gamesters as you and Iupiter, Sir Solomon maybe pleas'd with Difficulties, but a Puny Loyer as I am wou'd lose his Stomach if there was any thing to be done but directly falling to—
Well I see Tom, thou hast not a Spirit, a Genius for Intrigue —there is often more Pleasure in the Design than the thing — now shou'd I never rest till I had made the Husband accessary, it sweetens the Stealth, and makes it more secure, or if no Husband a Brother that is Jealous of the Honour of his Family — why Tom, I have imploy'd Fathers and Mothers in this Business!
Nay Sir Solomon, there is none so fit to take care of 'em as they that get 'em.
Ha! ha! My witty Rogue—sure she's mightily pleas'd with you!
She tells me so.
Ye happy Dog! — but prithee Tom tell me a little more for I love to find my Plots Succeed, what sort of Wench is it — ha!
A Beauty able to renew the long lost Fire in your Heart, and turn you to a Rival.
Egad sirrah, I'd Cuckold ye if I knew her, for this Libel —hah! Hem! I'am as Strong as you are — but no more of that, kneel down and thank me for my Advice — I understand the World Tom! But go on, is she Black or Fair, Tall or Short? Ha!
She's neither, but agreeably divided between 'em all — her Mien is easie without Affectation, and in her Face a pretty Haughtiness appears that melts it self into a Smile, and every Heart that sees it into Love.
But Dear Tom, how was she set off, what Rigging had she? Ha!
I was not so Idle as to make a Critick on her Dress, but I think she had a Yellow Gown —
Yellow Gown! —Pray Heaven it's not my Wife all this time.
Ay Yellow! Why don't you like that Colour?
O very well, very well Tom — Yellow you say? And what else? — it must be she.
And Black upper Petty-coat —
Upper Petty-coat?—then he has too—
What's the matter Sir Solomon, you're Concern'd?
No, no, no, not at all Tom — Black upper Petty-coat!
Ay, Sir Solomon, there's the Challenge she sent me next my Heart.
S'death! this is confirmation! The Gypsy's own Hand!
Caelia! Ay that's her Contrivance — Cockatrice!
There must be something in this Disorder, Cleremont told me he was Married — I have gone too far —
This is her Devotion! Well I'll know more, and if she has — Ha! Ha! Ha! Tom, this is very kind, you must not disappoint her for the World.
No, Sir Solomon, I'm a Man of Honour —but the unluckyest Dog that ever was.
My Friend and Councellour, Sir Solomon Empty! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Ay I have Counsell'd —
I follow'd your Instructions and am Happy — I melted the Do∣ctor, and He my Mistress; all her Aversions to me are over, her Pukings, her Spleen, her Swoonings, her Cholick! And now I am as well-come and agreeable to her as a Dose of Physick — all this my Councellour and deep Politician in Love I owe to thy sage Advice — Thou doest in∣deed understand the World, and in all Love Intrigues I'll be rul'd by no other — but what's the matter, are you both Dumb?
No, no, I was only thinking of a Business of Freeman's—
Which I must mind Gentlemen, and so your Servant.
And I too —
Hold Sir Solomon you must stay and hear my success.
I can't, I have Business.
A Pox, O' Business — Ha! Ha! Ha! You can't think what a change of Affairs it wrought.
I find the Plain Honest Way never does it, and a Man may throw a∣way as much Money upon a Mistress as a Place at Court, and never be the nearer.
Upper Petty-coat! —
A little bribe well Plac'd — but Sir Solomon methinks you are not pleas'd enough with the success of your Counsels.
If I an't, I'm in the wrong, for they have took mightily, mightily!
O beyond expectation!
Ay with a Pox! —
She receiv'd me with all the Ease and Satisfaction that desiring Lo∣vers use, all her talk was with regard to me and all her Appeals were to me —
Your Expecting Caelia! —
Cou'd you a' Dreamt that it wou'd come to this?
No Faith I cou'd not — not in the least Mr. Cleremont, not in the least!
Why thou deservest a Statue to thy Memory.
I do indeed deserve one —
Thou doest — why some have been worship'd for half thy Saga∣city — you don't know your self.
Yes, yes, I do, I am wiser than ever, Mr. Cleremont, and know my self intimately! —
All the distress'd Lovers in Town will fly to you for Succour.
Very likely — The Garden door at Six?
What a Devil's the Matter now? But thou art an Extraordinary old Fellow —
So! My Disguise sits well he'll never know me — now let me consider — what strange Story must I tell him to get him out of the way — but I shan't want invention; I'll tickle his Ears as I us'd to do the Commisarys when we made up a false Muster.
Jezebel! Harlot! This is her Aversion to Men! Her Praying! Her Piety! — but this is my Advice too. I must be giving Counsel! — hum —
But what Fellow's that? I don't like him — he may be a Cuckold∣maker too for ought I know.
Here he is, now for my Plot —Sir, Is your Name Sir Solomon Empty?
Yes 'tis — what then? — Thou art a Rogue I believe.
Do you know one Sir Humphrey Afterwit?
Sir Humphrey Afterwit! — No not I — not I Fellow — I know none of your Sir Humpherys —
I don't know how 'tis Sir, but he said he was near related to the Family of the Emptys, and dyed at my House Yesterday.
Why then you must bury him Friend — don't trouble me with your dead Men — Upper Pettycoat.
But a little before he dy'd, he bid me go to Sir Solomon Empty, and pay him a considerable Sum of Money that he ow'd him.
Adds me! — Harkee Friend — Sir Humphery Afterwit! —what an unlucky Brain have I! Ha! ha! ha! My dear Friend — Afterwit! that ever I should be puzzled to remember Thee! — and I protest to you he was as perfectly out of my Head, as if he had never been there.
Very likely Sir.
Why we are first Cousens — but he is not dead sure, he can't be dead!
Indeed Sir he is — he just came to Town, fell sick and dy'd in two Hours.
Tell me no more! The News goes to my Heart — poor Have — Wit!
Sir, he said his Name was Afterwit.
Right, right, Afterwit! But Grief, 'tis Grief makes me forget what I say — I have lost the best Friend!
I suppose you know how much it is?
No Friend, I can think of nothing now — poor Numps Dead! — go in and pay it any of my Servants.
Sir, he charg'd me to pay it none but you, and I was afraid to ven∣ture so much about me, but if you'll do me the Honour to go to my House.
Well, come lets go then, I shall be out of Pain the sooner—Ho! my dear Friend gone — poor Lackwit.
Your too great Care has ruin'd us! — had you not conceal'd your Name —
Who cou'd ha' thought that Sir Solomon had been your intimate Ac∣quaintance — I never heard him speak of such a Man — but I'm undone, past Redemption lost.
Sure there's a way.
O! none, never think on't—had you not shown the Letter—
That unfortunate Letter!
Cursed Letter! — if you had delay'd your Discovery two Hours, I had prevented it by telling you all — I had begun with your Man, Page 32 and sent him to draw Sir Solomon out of the way, which now I suppose he can't compass—and if you had seen him first.
How unlucky it was!
But we must do something—let me consider—He'll certainly be there—hum—O I have it.
How, how dear Creature!
O! Sir you'll tell.
You are unkind, but I deserve it—yet pray tell me.
I have thought of a Device that must bring us off, let me see the Letter.
Here ! here!
I never knew a Woman plung'd at an Excuse; now were I to be hang'd, I cou'd not think of an Expedient, I see so many Dan∣gers—but Woman!—
'Tis well — leave me — (gives him back the Letter.)
Must I not know your Plot?
Ask me nothing, but come at the Hour, and behave your self as you wou'd ha' done, had this not happen'd; leave the rest to me.
I go. —
I'm glad you're here; run immediately and call my Cousen—
I have a thousand Fears — I wish it were over — let •e see —she loves him too! it distracts me — was ever Woman so reduc'd! —but there's no other way. I must lose my Lover or my — Honour! Quiet! every thing! the fame of so much Vertue and be expos'd — I can't think on't.
Sir, I ply'd him every Minute with fresh Storys, and told more lyes than are pardon'd at a Jubilee.
I am glad they did not, but how came they not to succeed?
I can't tell what was in his Head, but I had not got half way when he turn'd short, and bid me be at home to morrow, for he had extraordina∣ry Business.
Damn his Business.
And him too. Sir for a Dog—a French Husband wou'd a been better bred than to look into the Affairs of his Wife—but we have nothing in that Perfection as abroad, and our Cuckolds as well as our Grapes are but half ripen'd.
Nay Sir, the things that are most cultivated, our very Fops in England are not to be nam'd with theirs — a true bred English Beau has indeed the Powder, the Essence, the Tooth-pick, the Snuff-box, and is as Page 33 Idle, but the fault is in the Flesh, he has not the motion, and looks stiff under all this—Now a French Fop, like a Poet, is born so, and wou'd be known with∣out Cloaths, it is in his Eyes, his Nose, his Fingers, his Elbows, his Heels; they Dance when they Walk, and sing when they speak —
You're extreamly Diverting.
I wou'd fain drive this ugly Business out of your Head, for it puts you as much out of humour as a Dun in a Morning.
And as much at a loss, as when I have no Money for him.
Never fear Sir, if she has undertook to bring you off.
Why are you acquainted with her Skill in these Matters?
No Sir, but I never knew a Design fail where a Woman was the In∣gineer — the Plots that don't succeed are made by Men.
Ay, but there is more in that it Thou art aware of — how if it shake my Interest with the Fortune?
'Tis impossible, for when once a Woman loves, nothing Cures her but Glutting.
Yet a modest Woman will be startl'd at such Galantries.
In appearance she may, but a wild Man has always their secret ap∣probation, and every Woman has the Vanity to think she can keep him to her self.
Do'ye think so?
And hope you'll find so — I never doubt a thing that depends on a Woman's Opinion of her self, for Nature has so order'd it that every one is prepar'd to believe whatever we can say of 'em.
Did you find her Maid of that Humour?
She wou'd not listen to me because she did not like me (I pity her Judgment) but I never knew a Woman refuse a Man that she lik'd —when they don't Fancy, they are very Saucy and very Vertuous.
Prithee Careless, leave this Libel and Mind the present Business —'tis pretty near the Time, go to the Mall and wait for orders — you'll find me in this Walk.
Yonder's one that will divert you in the mean time, the Charming Mrs. Friendlove.
Her Impertinence was never so unseasonable.
Faith Sir, according to the present Posture of Affairs, I fancy she might be very seasonable.
How do ye mean?
Why thus; — You are not sure they will succeed in their Plot upon Sir Solomon, now it will at least perplex the Matter if you can draw her thither about that time, to consummate the Wedding that you have put in her Head.
But if they should succeed it might raise new Jealousies in him.
To prevent that I may be ready to lead her another way.
I like it, let's meet her.
Well, I must confess Mr. Cleremont you are the most Diverting Man in the World, and the best Company when one has taken the Waters, and I have drank Epsome this Morning.
His Discourse Madam; seems more peculiar to a Steel Mineral; for Reproach and Scandal, at which he is very happy, eases us of Spleen and Dissatisfaction with our selves, and might be very proper to assist the ope∣rations of Tunbridge.
You are extreamly in the Right, and that must be the reason that makes Tunbridge so Fruitful of Lampoons, for that Mineral not being strong enough to make the crudities of Ill-nature pass, they are forc'd to bring 'em up in Verse.
Upon which Account Madam, all the Nice Women in the Town go thither to divert their Spleen, and be abus'd, for Detraction is always so en∣tertaining to the Ladies, that rather than want it they will have it at their own Expence.
Well, you are certainly a Living Lampoon.
Since then Madam, you acknowledge me so Medicinal to you, throw away your Juleps, Cordials, Slops, and take me all at once.
No Mr. Cleremont, that's too Bitter a Potion to be taken so sud∣dainly.
Oh! The rather Madam, the rather; for if you stand making Faces at what goes against you, it does but increase your Aversion and delay the Cure — Come, you must be Advis'd.
What mean you Sir?
To banish all your Ails and be my self your universal Medicine.
Impudent robust Man! — I protest did not I know his Rela∣tions, I-shou'd think his Parents had not liv'd in Chairs and Coaches, but had us'd their Limbs all their Lives — Huh! Huh! But I begin to be perswaded Health is a great Blessing —
My Limbs Madam, were convey'd to me from before the use of Chairs and Coaches, and it might lessen the Dignity of my Ancestors no• to use 'em as they did.
Was ever such a rude Understanding? To value himself upon the Barbarism of his Fore-fathers? Indeed I have heard of Kings that were bred to the Plough and fancy you might Descend from such a Race, for you Court as if you were behind one — Huh! Huh! Huh! — to treat a Woman of Quality like an Exchange Wench, and express your Passion with your Arms, unpolish'd Man!
I was willing Madam, to take from the Vulgar the only desireable thing amongst 'em, and show you how they live so Healthy — for they have no other Remedy.
A very rough Medicine! Huh! Huh!
To those that never took it, it may seem so —
Abandon'd Ravisher! Leave the room, and see my Face no more —
And harkee Sir 〈◊〉 Bribes, no Mediations to my Woman.
Thou Profligate! To Hug, To Clasp, To Imbrace, And throw your robust Arms about me like a Vulgar and Indelicate! Oh! I faint with Apprehensions of so gross Address.
Oh! My offended Fair!
Inhumane! Ravisher! Oh!
Well this is one of the most extraordinary Scenes of Loves I ever saw, I cou'd never think a Womans Fantask wou'd ever run so high as to oppose her Inclination, and believe her Ladyship wou'd be glad to compound for a little of the Vulgar.
Confounded Jade, to stay all this while — I shall be too late —I warrant the Parson has been there this hour, and 'twas never know that they stayd for the Bride — Pin up this Favorite better — Well these Soldiers are dear Creatures and I love 'em all!
They'll think your Ladyship was taken by Storm, to dispatch it so suddainly —
They'll rather commend my Conduct, for yielding before I had distress'd the Garrison — (set this Ribban right) — let foolish Maids squander their time that don't know the use of it, I'll snatch the precious Minutes as they pass, and ne're stand shilly shally.
Methinks my Lady Empty takes it very patiently.
She dares not do otherwise, for fear I shou'd make Discoveries to Sir Solomon — and truly I think it Just Reprizal, as I us'd to promote her pleasure, to make her accessary to mine.
'Twas foolishly done in my Opinion, to trust a Gallant so near your Ladyship.
She grew very presuming forsooth, because one or two of her Fellows had the little Sense to prefer her to me — but the Captain knows how to distinguish Women.
He's a fine proper Gentleman.
So he is indeed — nay, we shall be a mighty pretty Couple; but he admires my Wit, it seems, more than my Beauty — Who'd ha' thought a Soldier had such Judgment — (this clumsy Carrian runs the Pins into me.)
Madam, it bent under my Finger.
Bent under your Finger? — make hast — now some People live all their Lives without making any Conquests, yet they Dress and are Page 36 Pretty Women too, but I can't tell how 'tis, they don't please — there's Mrs. Prim, Mrs. Giggit and Mrs. Saint Looks.
They want the Freedom of your Lady•••ps Air.
Nay every Body does me the Justice, to say that I have very much of Quality in my Manner — (this new Tower does not please me)
He's violently in Love with you.
I am no less with him.
Oh! 'Tis not the Fashion after, except among your ordinary Peo∣ple, as my Cousen my Lady Dainty says — no People of Quality go beyond just being Civil to each other, as My Lady, Your Ladyship, Or so — Well, now am I Dress'd and going to Execution, but I have resign'd my self wholly up to him to do as he pleases, or since it is a sort of War, as he Dares — (