A plot and no plot a comedy as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane / written by Mr. Dennis.

ACT II. SCENE The Playhouse.

Frowzy, Friskit, Brush, appear at the Curtain.

Frowzy.

DAughter Friskit! Frisk. Mother!

Frowz.

Is Mr. Belvil come?

Frisk.

He has sent word that he'll be here immedi∣ately. You heave and puff strangely, Mother: How do you find your self?

Frowz.

Almost bowzy, by this light, Daughter. Prethee contemplate my Phiz a little: Hath it not a damnable hue with it? I warrant it is as comically hideous, as that old Hatchet-fac'd Beau's, who stands grinning in the Front-Box over my Lady what de call her?

Frisk.

And appears like the Dragon that was guar∣dian to the Golden Fruit. But why should you come hither in this woful condition, Mother? Gemini, in what a heat you are? Jesu, how you are tumbled!

Frowz.

Ay, so are you too, Daughter: No mat∣ter, the more like women of business. Brush!

Brush.

Madam!

Frowz.

Where ••s the Delight of my Soul? Where's my Gallant in ordinary?

Brush.

Here, Madam! A Brandy-bottle

(aside)

is the Vade Mecum of a travelling Bawd.

Frowz.

(to the Bottle)

My life! my joy! my dar∣ling sin, as Medley says, let me kiss thee.

Frisk.

S••heart, Mother! For shame step into the Scene room.

Frowz.

For shame! Yes, I am a very bashful person indeed: Modest Su Frowzy! what a rare Monster would she be? But let Sinners be asham'd, I am Virtuous, Daughter.

Frisk.

Vertuous!

Frowz.

Vertuous! Ay, Vertuous. For pray who boasts of receiving the last favour from me? Now, let Ladies do what they will besides, let them censure and rail, and dissemble and cheat, nay, and drink their four Bottles a day, if they do not grant the last favour, they are Vertuous. Nay, I know a Gentle∣woman at Court my self, who because she does not Cuckold her Husband, thinks she has a priviledge to beat him: Formerly indeed I was one of the wicked, for I gave my Husband his choice, whether he would have me a chaste, repining, obstreperous Turtle, or a silent, dutiful, humble Jilt; and the good man chose Cuckoldom and Quiet. In troth, he was a very good man, Daughter! He was wont to say, that the Wife who upbraided her Husband with her Chastity, im∣plied that she cornuted her Monster in Spirit abun∣da••tly.

Frisk.

Right, Mother: For she did not Cuckold him actually, because she had no mind to Cuckold him, where a Devil lay the obligation to her?

Frowz.

So that, as I was saying, Daughter, my good wretch chose Cuckoldom and Quiet; one for the happiness of this world, and the other for that of the next. And thus I was formerly one of the wick∣ed: But for these fifteen years last past, I have taken off my Bottle, and been Vertuous. But thou art mighty ignorant in Spiritual affairs, Child. So taken up about Carnal matters. Brush!

Brush.

Madam!

Frowz.

Go to the Rose, and see if you can hear of Mr. Belvil: He knows I have a calling to look after, and that I am oblig'd in Conscience to mind it. Well, Daughter, is it not more comfortable being here than in a Camp?

Frisk.

Ay, Mother, here we are in expectation of no Battels, but those which the Players fight on the Stage.

Frowz.

Or those which the Bullies act in the Pit. But hold! Let me examine a little: Thou hast not studied faces for nothing, Su Frowzy. Lord! what a numerous herd of Cullies is here! I have not seen so comfortable a prospect the Lord knows the time! Daughter, Daughter! I'gad you'll do your business well here! If I had but thy Youth, Child, I would lay a Tax of five hundred a year upon yonder limbo of Va∣nity.

(Pointing to the Side-Box.)

Frisk.

If you were but to talk with the Door∣keeper, he'd quickly assure you that you'd find the Fund deficient.

One from the Side-Box.

Look yonder is Frowzy ar∣riv'd piping hot from Flanders.

Another from the other Side-Box.

Frowzy upon my Life! Was there ever such an impudent Bawd!

Frowz.

Impudent Bawd! Dost thou hear that foul-mouth'd Rogue, Daughter? Well great Vertues have been always persecuted, and rare Talents have been always envied. But does that senseless Puppy know what extraordinary qualities are requir'd to compleat what he is pleas'd to style Bawd? What Parts? What Education? What Discipline? What Observation? What?—Oh a thousand things more than I can think of at present!

Frisk.

And 'tis very well known, Mother, that you

have all the qualifications which can accomplish the most Reverend Matron.

Frowz.

Nay faith, all that know me, do me the honour to say, that for our profession there is not a greater person living than my self. Yes, faith, all that know me—

Frisk.

And that is All Europe.

Frowz.

Do me the honour—

Frisk.

The Justice you mean, Mother.

Frowz.

To assert this: And that there is not a woman breathing who has a larger capacity for the Calling.

Frisk.

All the world allows it.

Frowz.

Nor a greater genius.

Frisk.

'Tis the voice of Fame, Mother.

Frowz.

And that my Education has been as liberal. Faith and troth I was brought up at the University, Daughter; went through a course of natural experi∣mental Philosophy there, perform'd my publick exer∣cise with applause, and when I came to be of com∣pleat standing, past the examination of several Ma∣sters, and regularly took my Degree. After that I came to be publick professor of the Mathematicks in that place.

Frisk.

But with this preferment, how came you to change your station, Mother?

Frowz.

You must know, that my Fame encreasing with my Virtues, and both growing too large for that narrow Sphere, it was unanimously voted, in full Congregation, that I should be convey'd from thence, to the great City at the publick expence, for the pub∣lick benefit. Oh! you•• most humble Servant, my Lord! Your humble Servant, Sir Arthur! Noble Col∣lonel I am yours.

(Bowing to several in the Pit.)

Enter Belvil.

Frowz.

Bless my Eyes! What do I see! Ah God∣son you ravish me.

Belv.

Well! You are welcome into England Mo∣ther: I hope you have made your Markets in Flan∣ders well.

Frowz.

My Markets, Son! I wonder you should talk at that rate: You know I act for Glory. And truly, I hope I have behav'd my self so, that he who writes the History of this War, will mention Su Frowzy with honour. Ah Son, that you had been but an eye witness of my actions! To see the rate discipline that I observ'd among them. I have done wonders among them, my Boy! I have made the German active, the Spaniard humble, and the Dutch man lean and liberal. Ha, ha, ha: There was an old Dutch Cap∣tain, who when he first came into my hands, was a lubberly, wheezing, unweildy wight, that was fit neither for a Charge nor a Retreat: But by that time I had had him three months, he became a pretty, slender, nimble, Mercurial fellow; and at the Battel of Landen, as Gad shall save me, ran away at the head of his Company.

Belv.

But, hark you Mother, I have a word of bu∣siness with you.

Frowz.

Hast thou so my boy, and Faith Ill do it effectually for thee If she's in the Playhouse, give me but thy Billet and the Orange Wench shall deli∣ver it immediately to her.

Belv.

Indeed that business you have often done for me, but this is of another nature.

Frowz.

Let it be what it will it must be done before 8 of the clock; for then I am to meet some Statesmen upon a politick conference, and to morrow I return for Flanders.

Belv.

How! I was in hopes we should have had you till June.

Frowz.

Jesu! Why the Army will be in the Field within these three weeks.

Belv.

And cannot they lye there without you, Mo∣ther.

Frowz.

Yes, I'd have you to know I seldom lye in the Camp, but in the next wall'd Town, still like the Great Ladies of France, to provide for the necessities for the Army. But France is the place Son, where Merit is regarded. Some of them now are Ministers of State, I am but poor Sue Frowzy. Yet, I, gad, as simple as I stand here, in one of the former Reigns, I was a Ca∣binet Councellor.

Belv.

But Mother—

Frowz.

Right Child! Since I am to return so sud∣dainly, you would ask me why I came over? Why for Recruits Child••▪ The Forces that I rais'd last Spring are some of them dead in the service, others wound∣ed, but harrass'd, damnably harrass'd all.

Belv.

Death and the Devil! This Jade's imperti∣nence will quite ruin my business! Mrs. Frowzy! Look, there is your retaining Fee. I must have a word a∣part with you immediately.

Frowz.

Humph! ••ive Guineas! I have not had so much these two Campaigns from a Major General Son my Soul is yours.

Belv. and Frowz. talk apart.

Frisk.

Am I grown old or ugly that I stand unat∣tack'd here? or am I neglected as an unfortify'd place, that lies open to all invaders? I'll e••en put on my Mask, and try what that will do. That will atract some ••op or other. For an Ow•• loves not the face of night so much as a fool is fond of a Vizor.

Enter a very young ••eau.

Hey day! What Stripling comes here? This is one

of those ••oung wou'd-be••Sinners, whom we may call wicked Platonicks, and who make leud love without desire.

Beau.

Demmee, Madam.

Frisk.

What? Before you are capable of being a Sinner! All in good time sweet Sir. The Devil does not care for these Tit Bits; he's for a more substantial morsel, a morsel that may be felt in the going down: And truly he and I are much of a mind. But come, for what have you a mind to be damn'd, young Sir!

Beau.

For you, withal my heart, my Dear▪ Come, shall you and I go aside and divert one another?

Frisk.

Why, I can laugh at you here, and that is all the diversion that thou canst give me poor little Animal!

Beau.

Nay, but this is speaking without Book. Come, come, come and see.

Frisk.

No, I'd have you to know, I am a little too old for a Puppet-show. No, Sir, no, I am for none of your diversion.

Beau.

S'death, if you are not for diversion, will you do business?

Frisk.

Business! What a Boy and talk of Business? No, no, youngster, you are not grown up to Busi∣ness yet.

Beau.

What a Devil can this be; She talks too well for a common Punk, and too leudly for a woman of Honour. Ten to one some Actress who is rehearsing her part to me. Adieu Jilt!

Exit.

Frisk.

The most effectual way of Jilting thee, were to grant thy request

Belv.

to Frowzy.

Nay, no reply, you know the time presses, and Baldernoe expects you. But be sure you remember the Letter.

Frowz.

I warrant you▪ Daughter, come along Child

Exeunt Frowz. and Frisk.

Enter Sylvia in the Stage Box.

Belv.

But Sylvia comes adorn'd with every Grace, And Love and Death sit sporting in her Eyes.

Sylvia.

And for what weighty reason, Mr. Belvil, have you drawn me hither?

Belv.

To expose my Rival to you

Sylvia.

A very frank confession! You are jealous then?

Belv.

I should be very unworthy if I should be jea∣lous after the engaging assurance which you gave me this morning. When you see my Rival you will be convinc••d that I am not jealous.

Sylvia.

Why am I then come hither?

Belv.

That the full knowledge of the Husband which my Unkle designs for you, may give you the juster excuse for refusing him.

Sylv.

But can your Unkle dare to use his authority in such an arbitrary manner, as to oblige me to take for a Husband to morrow, a man whom I never saw?

Sylv.

My Unkle has several reasons for this precipi∣tation: But this is not the meanest of them, that the longer you know his Son, the more nauseous you••ll find him.

Syl.

But since this Gentleman is to be shown in the Playhouse, pray do what is done in our Comedies, and let me know something of the character, before I see the person

Belv.

Why, then for his parts, Madam, Nature has been a very niggard to him: She has made him a poor Dog, but he is contented, and so far he may ••e said to be rich

Sylv.

Nay, this you have spoken in his commenda∣tion: For content, where murmuring will not mend the matter, denotes a man of Judgment.

Belv.

True, Madam: But, like some old Philoso∣phers,

he is not only contented in his poverty, he is proud in it: Like a Stoick, at the time that he is scandalously ••ecessitous, he affirms that himself is on∣ly rich. An humble Fool is one of Gods creatures, and consequently very good: Ignoranee and stupidi∣ty are Nature's follies, and Nature is always lovely: But affectation is a Coxcomb's own.

Sylv.

Nay, we have certa••nly reason to bear with your downright Fool, for native folly is a necessary foyl, and serves to set off the Brillant of Wit, but affectation is false and counterfeits it, to cheat us of our good opinions.

Belv.

Right, Madam: He who courts our applause by affecting Wit, is a cheating Beggar, who asks Alms with a false Certificate; and every pretending aspi∣ring Fop is a Knave as well as a Fool. In short, this is so vain a Coxcomb, that he would be contented to feel himself miserable, that others might imagine him happy; and would be satisfy'd to be a Sot in his own judgment, that he might pass for a Wit in the opinions of other people.

Sylv.

But have a care, are only Fools vain, very vain, Mr. Belvil?

Belv.

Yes, a man of sense may be puff'd up some∣times, because he cannot always reflect; but a con∣ceited Fool is eternally vain, because he is never thoughtful.

Sylv.

Then Vanity, like Wine, it seem••, works most violently upon the weakest brains?

Belv.

It does; and Vanity makes the Sot as con∣ceited of his fancy'd capacity, as Wine made the Beg∣gar proud of his imaginary quality.

(aside.

But, up∣on my life here comes my Cousin, and a Letter in his hand, which Frowzy and Friskit have sent him by my appointment. But that this Lady must not know.

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Enter Bull junior.

Cousin, your humble Servant.

(To Bull jun.)

Bull jun.

Damme, how dost thou do, Ned?

Sylv.

aside.

Well, a Fop and a Monkey are the most familiar of Gods Creatures.

Belv.

Do you stay the Play out?

Bull jun.

Dost thou know, Ned, that I am just now come out of France?

Belv.

And what of that?

Bull j.

And what can you see in my face to per∣swade you, that I, who come from Moliere and Ra∣cine, should stay out one of your damn'd foolish things here?

Belv.

Why have we nothing but foolish things then?

Bell jun.

No Sir, if my Judgment may be taken; and I hope my Judgment may be taken for a foolish thing as soon as another mans.

Belv.

No doubt on't.

Bull j.

As I was just coming into the door, I met 3 or 4 Wits going out: They were all of them down to the ground immediately to me: Your most humble Servant, sweet Mr. Bull. And thus I return'd the salute: Jack how dost thou do? Will, I am heartily glad to see thee. Rot me Tom, thou lookst execra∣bly to day. Ned, I always treat people De haut en bas, who have not a great deal of money.

Belv.

What if they have merit?

Bull j.

Merit without Money! Thou talkst like a Bantamite or a Chinese, let me perish; and not like an inhabitant of this side of the Globe. There is an air of greatness in Tutaying men. Ned, man Ned Thou behav'st thy self so gently to all sorts of people, that let me die if I am not asham'd of thee.

Belv.

Nay, I must confess thou dost treat most peo∣ple with a surprizing familiarity.

Bull jun.

That i••, Ned, because for most people I have a very hearty contempt.

Belv.

And so have all who have thy noble accom∣plishments. For

(aside)

a man of sense may hug him∣self as long as he pleases, with the thought of his con∣temning a Fop: a Fop is sure to be even with him; nay, and to have the advantage of him. For a great understanding only qualifies a man for the contemn∣ing those who have less. Nor always indeed for that, since it often ma••es him diffide in himself; but igno∣rance and vanity undoubtedly qualifie him for the contempt of all who are above him too.

Bull. jun.

On what the Devil art thou musing man? As I was saying, Ned, thou knowest that I am lately come out of ••rance.

Belv.

Very good.

Bull jun.

Thou art very perfect I know in the French Tongue.

Belv.

Oh God, Sir, you rally me.

Bull jun.

Non, que Le Diable m' emporte. And thou hast a very pretty stile in English. Now I have thought of a business that may get thee some reputa∣tion.

Belv.

As how, pray?

Bull jun.

Why, I have brought over with me a∣bout a bushel of Billet Doux, which I receiv'd from the Wives, and Sisters, and Daughters of Dukes and Peers of France, and which I would have thee translate for the benefit of our English Ladies.

Belv.

I am the most unqualify••d man in the world for such an employment.

Bull jun.

The most qualify'd man in the Uni∣verse, let me perish for it, our Language stands in want

of these things. You will find in them to a miracle, Le galant, Le Doux, Le Tendre, Le Delicat & le bien tourn••.

Belv.

Is that one of them in your hands?

Bull jun.

No, that is a Letter which I have just re∣ceiv'd from a Dutchess.

Belv.

May I read it?

Bull jun.

You may.

(Belv. Reads.)

Your Merit has engag'd a Woman of the first Quality to wish you well. Be at the Playhouse before the Play begins; you shall either hear of me there, or else at the Chocolate-house immediately after the Play is begun: but be sure you be discreet, for the least vanity will ruin both.

Belv.

Pshew! Pox she does not know thee, or she would never have given thee that caution. 'Tis now

(aside)

high time to snub this Puppy.

Bull jun.

There is not a man in England who is more shock'd at vanity than my self.

Belv.

Or who loves a vain Coxcomb more.

Bull jun.

I don't understand you.

Belv.

Of all loves, self-love is the blindest

Bull jun.

Tho perhaps if I had a mind to be vain.

Belv.

Nature has given thee as good grounds to be so, as she has done any man breathing.

Bull jun.

Right.

Belv.

For she has made thee as great a Coxcomb.

Bull. jun.

Humph!

Sylv.

(aside)

What can Mr Belvil mean by all this? This Coxcomb can never be so odiously base as to bear it. Heavens! How I tremble.

Bull jun.

I would despise another man for this, but thee I pity, Ned.

Belv.

This Billet, I'll lay my life, comes from some Drab who has heard what a Fop thou art, and who by necessity is reduc'd to abandon her self to thee,

which is enough ev'n in this leud Age, to brand For∣nication with ••nfamy.

Bull jun.

A Drab who is reduc'd you say? Prithee let's hear that again.

Belv.

Yes, reduc'd ev'n to flatter thee, which is still a more vile and a more abominable prostitution.

Bull jun.

(aside.)

By the Lord, this Kinsman of mine is a dismal Dog, a very woful Monster, if a man durst but tell him so. But tho this fellow has the jaws of an Ass, yet, a pox on him, he has the Hoofs of a Stone∣horse, and can kick upon occasion unmercifully: Look you, Ned, some people would decently cut your Throat about this business. But—

Belv.

Your dare not, it seems.

Bull jun.

I will only tell thee, that the Lady from whom this Letter comes, is just as great a Drab as I am a Fop, and I am just as great a Fop as she is a Drab: Ha, ha, ha. And so adieu.

Belv.

Nay, Faith you shan••t go.

Bull jun.

Faith but I must, Ned: For look you, the Fop at present is busie, nay, very busie. For the Drab, do you see, has sent ••he Fop an assignation, and the Fop is resolved to be punctual. Ha, ha, ha.

Sylv.

This is wonderful.

(aside)

Belv.

But can you resolve to go to a Whore to night, when you know you are to be marry'd to morrow?

Bull j.

Ay, to chuse, Ned, and for a very good reason.

Belv.

Name it.

Bull j.

That I might not be tempted to do so damn'd an unfashionable thing as to be immoderate with my own Spouse to morrow night.

Belv.

Have you seen Sylvia?

Bull j.

No.

Belv.

How do you know whether you shall like her?

Bull jun.

I never concern my self about that: For who would trouble himself about marrying one whom he likes, in an age in which every well bred man professes the hating his Wife? Has she all her Teeth, two Eyes, and a Nose?

Belv.

Yes sure.

Bull j.

Rot me, I had a live she had not: For no∣thing can make a woman so abominable as wedlock, and all Wives are hideous alike. For my part, of all things in the world, I would chuse to marry the wo∣man I hated most.

Belv.

The Devil thou wouldst?

Bull j.

Let me perish, Ned, but I would: for whom a man hates he would be glad to avoid, and people marry now adays on purpose to live asunder.

Sylvia

aside.

And is this fellow design'd for me! If there were only him and my self in the world, the race of men should perish.

Belv.

Mr▪ Bull, if Sylvia were here now?

Bull j.

Faith if she had been here, it had been all one.

Belv.

Faith I believe thee.

Bull j.

Well, Ned, adieu.

Exit Bull jun.

Belv.

So, Madam! How do you like Mr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉?

Sylv.

Infinitely. There may be men in the world who have greater understandings, but he is extream∣ly handsom.

Belv.

Nay, now I am sure you dissemble, for it is the hardest thing in the world, for a Woman who finds that a man wants Wit, to find that he is ex∣treamly handsom.

Sylv.

You did not hear me say that he wanted wit: for my part I think that he is very brisk.

Belv.

And at the same time very melancholly.

Sylv.

I don't know what you may think, but I am sure a great part of what he said would pass for Wit with others.

Belv.

Yes, and make him pass for a Fool with them.

Syl.

How! Wit make him pass for a Fool with them? I thought people had pass'd for Fools for want of Wit.

Belv.

No, Madam, 'tis for want of Judgment.

Syl.

And do you think to make your Court to a Woman by saying this?

Belv.

Yes, to a Woman who can despise the little follies of her Sex, as much as she detests their Vices. But, Madam, you are sensible of the choice to which you are reduc••d, if you will not accept of me to night, you must ee••n take my Rival to morrow.

Syl.

You draw strange consequences.

Belv.

You know, that by the indiscretion of your Father, your Guardian has the same advantage over you that he has over me.

Syl.

You know him to be utterly averse to your desire.

Belv.

But if within these two hours I obtain his con••sent, will you promise to give me yours.

Syl.

Upon that condition I may promise any thing, and run no risque of performance. But I must think of removing: For so long a conversation in so pub∣lick a place has drawn all the Eyes of the Playhouse on us.

Belv.

Then you shall give me leave to wait upon you to your Chair.

Syl.

You may spare your self the trouble, for I have brought my Gentlemen Usher with me. Your Ser∣vant.

Exit Sylvia.

Belv.

Madam, your most humble servant. Well▪ Thus far I have only expos'd my Cousin, but that is not sufficient, he must smart too. My Unkle's ill usage has been intollerable. His years, and the relation which I have to him, restrain me from revenging that u∣sage upon himself immediately. No I will punish it in his ridiculous Off-spring, and visit the exorbitant sins of the Father, upon that extraordinary Rogue the Son. Since I have depriv••d him of the Wife design'd for him, I will put very fair for the providing another for him. In Friskit I have made a proper choice for him. For so extravagant a Drab and so extraordina∣ry a Fop are tallies to one another; so surprizing a match may be very instructive, and snow the ridicu∣lous vanity of some Coxcombs who are now in my Eye; for they are but copies of this original, and the conclusion of all their boasted intreagues is the same.

Those plagues of the fair Sex, of ours the scum, Got doubly drunk with Vanity and Stum, Their high-born Mistresses in Brimmers toast, And to their friends their false good fortunes boast; But the Wine drunk, and the vain frolick o're, Departing, reel to some abandon'd Whore: And with her fancying Quality, and Charms, Enjoy fair Dutchess in a Bulkers arms.

The End of the Second Act.