The virtuous wife, or, Good luck at last a comedy, as it is acted at the Dukes Theater by His Royal Highness his servants / written by Thomas Durfey, Gent.

ACT III.

SCENE Chelsey.

Enter Beauford ••nd Brainworm.

Beau.

THat row of Trees I remember. Yonder's the Bowling-green, Come sirrah. This is the place▪

Brain.

Where 'tis ten to one, but we shall b•• well cudgell'd, and so return home agen, like fools as we came.

Beauf.

Cudgell'd! why you cowardly Rascal; who should cudgel us?

Brain.

Who? why Piccaroons Sir— Land-Pirats, that are doubt∣less looking for Prize, as well as you.

Beauf.

Sirrah—thou art a cold spiritless Rascal, and only swaid by the motions of thy fear: but these are Trifles to men of wit and courage, pray— how came ye off with your last business, did you deliver my Letter to Isabella?

Brainw.

Ay there's another—I had like to have made a hopeful journey of that too. Yes Sir, I deliver'd it.

Beauf.

Well—and what said she?

Brainw.

Why, after she had snatch'd the Letter from me—she calls to her Footmen to go and whip that impudent Rascal that came to trouble her, where had not my legs been my best friends—I had been ty'd to a post and slash'd as god sa' me.

Beauf.

Ha ha—I find this was her cunning, her Husband was up∣on the sent—but see who comes yonder—ha, it must be Olivia; oh the charming Rogue how she shines—sirrah not a word now in con∣tradiction, I charge ye—for tho I am a little unlucky sometimes, ac∣cording as the wind sits, yet for making a Court to a Lady, I defie all Europe, gad go go, your distance—

Brain.

I think there are no men with her, that's one comfort.

Enter Olivia and Lidia.

Lidia.

I see he has pick'd the meaning out of your Letters —

Oliv.

'Tis he; Now would I give 20 Guineys, my Husband were by to hear the harangue betwixt us.

Lidia.

So would not I, for this object would so nettle his jealou∣sie, there would be no enduring him—I vow methinks, he's a very handsome person, and I believe of a good Conscience.

Oliv.

A right Town-Gallant Madam, if those are your conscienti∣ous persons, and one that wou'd as soon address to your Ladyship, if he knew the advantages he should get by it, as any one in Christendom. Prethee observe his demure countenance—I see Sir, you will take no warning; you will venture a great deal of my anger, to enjoy a little of my company.

Beauf.

No Madam, 'twas rather that I migh•• enjoy a great deal of your company for a little of your anger—Ah! did you know the languishments, and heart-breakings I have suffer'd for you—well, 'tis gone and past — and heaven forgive you.

Brainw.

Ay and you too — ha ho▪ heart-breakings quotha!

Oliv.

'Tis as destiny pleases to order Sir. But methinks the Beau∣ties of Paris, and the success that always attended your endeavours, should banish these resentments from you: I know the little Love you had for me has been dead long since—

Beauf.

Why the Devil take me Madam, if you are not the only person I adore, and ho••rly die for.

Brain.

S'bud! every one he has met these six months, has been that only person to my knowledge—

Oliv.

You have deserv'd better I confess—but Sir, in this age, Merit like Wit, is never paid the applause due to it, till the owner be past receiving—For my own part, I am as comfortless as you, and as destitute of a Remedy; for my Husband is grown the unkindest man in the World to me.

Beauf.

Ah damn 'em Madam, they are all so now-a-days —

Oliv▪

He keeps a Wench under my Nose; nay, is not so content∣ed, but he le••s me see her, and courts her before my face — pray give me your advice now Sir; is it not reason that I should be re∣veng'd of him for this?

Beauf.

Reason! ay—gad, the profoundest Philosophy in the world, has not halfe so much reason in't —

Oliv.

I knew it must, See now, what an extraordinary blessing a man judgement is! had you not ass••r'd me this, I vow I should have been fearf••l how to proceed.

Beauf.

Ah, Madam! would you but take my advice, you should find one Kind humble servant of more worth than Twenty resty peevish Husbands—a Husband, Madam, is the meo•• Bank-rupt of

Love▪ he scores for all he has without ever being able to repay a penny —but, a vigorous Lover still brings ready Money — here's this for that, without fraud or design — And, gad, a plain-Dealer in Love is as necessary as in Merchandize▪ there ought to be no goods delivered out without a just Exchange to the full value—

Oliv.

Well, I see you are owner of so much Wit and Reason, that I am resolv'd to discover my Design to you —And also to de∣sire your assistance—

Beauf.

Assistance —so—D'ee hear that Sirra.

to Brain.

Oliv.

For, since no fair means, entreaty —nor Love, can make my Husband leave his lewd Courses, I am resolv'd to see what Jea∣lousie can do, to which purpose you shall be my Gallant; Address to me; Court me; Sing—Cringe—Bow—Swear, and be very Mo∣dishly soppish before all Company▪ which gallantry I will receive with as ridiculous an affected behaviour, as a Mail-Lady—an over∣ture with Mr. Such-a-one, after a Midnight Assignation with my Lord—

Beauf.

Ha, ha, ha — very well — I vow to gad, Madam, very well.

Brain.

Ay, ay—she's your own, Sir—She's your own—

Oliv.

But see the Sun declines—I must be gone, have a little pa∣tience, Sir; and, if you think your time well employ'd, be here about an hour hence; perhaps there may a Messenger come that may guide you to a place where we may discourse further ▪ but, for the present, le•• me entreat you to be gone, here's company coming.

Beauf.

Your humble Servant, Madam—I'll be as punctual as the minutes— Come, Sirra—

Ex. Beauf. and Brain.

Oliv.

It would be now a doubtful question, whether any Woman, but I, would not make use of this opportunity; he, I find, Ima∣gines the business half done already; and, there are some of my sex that I believe would think it great pitty, that troublesome Vertue shou'd dash a Man's hopes that means so well, and is so willing to revenge their Injuries. Heaven! of what corrupted Natures are these Men, especially when they come to be Husbands: But mine is sure the worst of all; There's nothing can reclaim him. However, he shall not think I resent it, for▪ in appearance, I'll be as careless and as wild as he —I've a Plot upon his Mistress too—'Tis here well forg'd, I am sure, and, I hope, will prove lucky—

Exit.

Enter Sir Lubberly and Boy.

Sir ••roll.

Well, Sir; Have you consider'd on my Imposition? Have you fixt your resolution to Court this Widdow—

Sir. L. Widg.

I have; I have consider'd her as the very seething pot of Iniquity, and my self the Ladle of Discretion, ordain'd to coole her when she boileth over.

Sir Froll.

But will you Marry her?

Sir Lubb.

Marry her — a pox o'that word, I never hear it, but it gives me the Griping of the Guts—Could you not have nam'd any thing else—I'll lye with her, and that's all one.

Sir Froll.

No, no, Sir; there must be marriage in the Case—

Sir Lub.

Well—the Devil take her, I will Marry her then; I will do't in spight of her intollerable Age, and more intollerable qualities; for, to tell you the truth, the Devil and I have been drawing Cuts for this two hours, and the Change has alwayes falne on my side.

Sir Froll.

Oh you are merry, Sir I am glad on't, and I assure you, Coz, this Consent of yours pleases me well: alass—what I do is for thy good, Child —and, let people say what they will, the La∣dy is rather to be admir'd then contemn'd —

Sir Lub. W.

I never knew a Witch that was not admir'd; Oh what fine thin hair she has—what a delicate low forehead what little pretty ferret hollow eyes, and what a tall and stately nose? then she must be very harmless, because she is toothless; then how thrifty must she be, that is so old? and how virtuous is she like to be, of whom no man can be jealous?

Sir Froll.

Right, as gad save me. Thy sentiments of her are right—

Sir Lub.

Then there's Counsel and Gravity, and Dullness; and then little or no Lechery, which, alass, in young ones is too predo∣minant; besides, that antient Cornuted Philosopher instructs us well— give me, says he, a Pippin that's wither'd like an old Woman, and à contrario sequitur Argumentum, give me a Woman that's wither'd like an old Pippin—

Sir Froll.

An excellent Morral 'Faith —for, Sir, I have wrought the Fool finely; for; by this means, wanting heirs to inherit, the E∣state must of necessity fall to me—ha, I think here she comes — Come Coz —let us not miss this opportunity.

Sir Lub. W.

'Sbud—how my heart pants now —here, Sirrah, take this Book, be sure to prompt — when I am out, d'ee hear?

Boy.

Yes, Sir.

Enter L. Beardley, Isabella, Lidia, Tissick, and Letitia.

Letitia Sings.

Sir Froll.

Stay, here's my Wife, and Company with her — per∣haps she may be busie — stand by, and observe a little — Come, out with it Lettice — I like it well —

SCOTCH SONG.

1.

SAwney was tall, and of noble Race, And lov'd me better then any yen, But noo he liggs by another Lasse, And Sawney will nere be my Love agen. I gave him a fine Scotch Sarke and Band, I put um on with my awn hand; I gave him House, and I gave him Land, Yet Sawney will ne'ere be my Love agen.

2.

I rob'd the Groves of all their Store, And Nosegayes made to give Sawney yen; He kist my Breast, and fain would do more, Gude feth methought he was a bonny yen: He squeez'd my Fingers, grasp'd my Knee, And Carv'd my name on each green Tree; And sigh'd and languisht to ligg by me; But now he ne'ere will be my Love agen.

3.

My Bongrace, and my Sun-burnt Face He prais'd; and also my Russet Gown; But now he dotes on the Copper Lace, Of some lew'd Quean of London-Town.

He gangs and gives her Curds and Creame, Whilst I poor Saule sit sighing at heam; And ne're Ioye Sawney unless in a Dreame; For now he ne're will be my Love agen.

L. Beard.

Very hot—soultry hot upon my honour—phoo— my Lady Whimsey—How does your Ladiship resent it? I shall be most horribly tann'd.

Isab.

'Tis warm, Madam.

L. Beard.

Oh hot▪ hot—I am ready to fry — good lack-a-day, how strange is this— Mrs. Lidia— pray feel me! pray feel my pulse—g••d forgive me how it beats, I see I must Purge and let Blood —

Tissick.

Marry does it, like one of five and twenty—I assure your good Ladiship.

L. Beard.

My Lady Whimsey, Mrs. Lidia, pray feel, I protest I never felt the like! Why who would think this of one of my age?

Lidia.

'Tis very strange indeed Madam; so is your Complexion too: For my part I have often wonder'd how it was possible for your Ladiship to preserve ••our Beauty so long—

L. Beard.

Truly, Mrs. Lidia, it has been a wonder to many—but art is a rare thing — you must use art, Mrs. Lidia, if you would look attractively, and live long—Tissick — give me my Carra∣wayes.

Isab.

What Art I beseech your Ladiship?

L. Beard.

Nay, 'tis worth your knowing in troth. Why Madam —the Face preservative is, to be sure to suite your Ingredient to your Complexion— your Tawny, or Olive-colour'd skin would look better if it were White; Therefore White must be added: Then your pale dead Tallow Colour requires a Tincture, and it must have it, 'tis very necessay, and no more discredit to ye, then 'tis to wear a piece of thin Gold for the Kings Evil; or a row of Ivory Teeth, when your own have uncivilly left their habitations.

Lidia.

So now shall we have a Description of her own Imperfecti∣ons and Deformity, by a Misterious advice how to shun e'm—

L. Beard.

Defects in Nature, Madam, must be supply'd by Art; 'Tis not onely requisite, but Customary — and 'tis the knowledge of what ingredient is most natural, is the main cause of b••ing beauti∣ful—why now I alwayes us•• a certain blew re••••ection to my face.

Lidia.

How, Blew?

Isab.

Me••cy on us.

L. Beard.

Blew, Madam—and sometimes when I am sick and out of orde••, Black and Blew are very convenient: 'Tis a little

strange to you, I warrant — but my complection requires it▪ and I alwayes consult that.

••id••a.

Nay, any one that sees your Ladiships face, may easily guess your great knowledge in these matters.

L. Beard.

Some observations Mrs. Lidia; some observations: I have not, I think, be••n backward in procuring the good of my Neigh∣bors — pray let me look on ye—hold up your ••ead — a little more — ay, 'tis so—a Phillamot would set off your Face extreme∣ly—

Lidia.

'Twould make it Olive-Colour indeed, if you call that setting off.

L. Beard.

Olive-colour! ah, you are ignorant Mrs. ••idia, Olive-colour! 'Twould make it ruddy. Ruddy! there's your Com∣plexion! Why that, which you have on, spoiles your face instead of beautif••ing it — I have some Powder in Boxes at home would do ••e a kindness if ••ou would use e'm.

Is••b.

Have you not a great care Madam — least some of ••hose Boxes should come to publick view — you know that would not be for ••our R••putation —

L. Beard.

Care, Madam — yes, I warrant ye; never doubt that: For, if a stranger comes into the Room — whip — they'r gone in a moment —and now you put me in mind on't, in troth I was dam∣nably frighted once about such a business.

Lidia.

Were ••ou so?

L. Beard.

Ay—I Swear, most strangely frighted, it makes me ready to tremble every time I think of it—I'll tell you how 'twas sitting one day dr••ssing my—'Twas before I was Marry'd, and I think truly 'tis now about Five and twenty years agoe—sitting, as I was saying, dressing my head, my Husband, who was then a Servant to me, and one, that though I say it, laid as close seige to me as any man in Europe could do— he, I say, stole softly into the Room, and stood just behind me—

Isab.

As you were dressing your head?

L. Beard.

Ay — but I presently turn'd back, and being ex∣treamly surpriz'd to see him— thinking to mend all, snatch'd up my false head of Brown hair, and Curl'd Tower, that lay by me— (For, to tell you true, my own was ever of a scurvy colour) and, gad forgive me — in hast▪ put it on the wrong way— ha, ha, ha, Oh heaven! What a Case was I in— I look'd for all the World like one of the Satyrs in a Pastoral—ha, ha, ha—

Lidia.

I vow this was a strange Misfortune indeed—but, What said the Gentl••man? Did he not laugh soundly?

L. Beard.

L••ugh — ay — I warrant ye— he Laugh'd, and I Blush't, and he Laugh'd, and I Trembled—for, you must think, I was most terribly fright••d — as I hope to be sav'd— I had like to

have miscarry'd about it•• I was fain to w••ar an ••agles Stone abo•••• me for three months▪

Isa••.

••n Eagles stone

L. Beard.

Yes, I assure you, the onely Sovereign Remedy in the World to keep young Ladies from miscarrying.

Lidia.

Misca••rying •• Why▪ M••dam, you say, this was done be∣fore you were M••rry'd▪ Fo•• he••ven's sake what do••s your Ladi∣ship mean?

L. Beard.

Gad forgive me, What shall I say now? — Did I say be∣fore? pray, p••rt Mrs. Lidia, remember your self, Did I say before? I said after we were Marr••'d I assure you —

Ent•••• Sir Frollick, Sir Lubberly▪ and Boy.

Sir Froll

Come, Sit▪ now I think we may venture— My La∣dy Beardly, in all Joy and Duty, I kiss your Ladiships hand—in the next place give me the favour to introduce my Nephew here, Sir Lubberly Widgeon, a man of good quality and parts, and one that will be proud ••o be grac'd with your Ladiships, acquaintance—

L. Beard.

I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his humble servant, Sir.

Salute.

Sir Lubb.

Well, there's no such Kissing, as whe••e there are no Teeth.

Lidia.

Come, let us take this opportunity to get away, Madam: Wee'l wait for your Ladiship in the next walk.

L. Beard.

Your Servant, my Deares; I'll oblige my self with your sweet company incontinently—

Exit Isab. and Lidia.

Sir Froll.

The Cause of my waiting on ••ou Madam, is to inform you, That this Gentleman—loves ••ou—

L. Beard.

Ha, ha, ha—I protest, Sir Frollick— you make me laugh—Love me — why 'tis impossible—alass, Sir—I am old, I am old.

Sir Froll.

Your age has been cautiously consider'd, Madam: and, tho' my Nephew be backward ••n these matters, and unwilling to break the Ice himself. Yet, he knows as much for his Inches, as any man on this side Rome, I'll say that for him.

L. Beard.

Nay, verily, the Gentleman has a very hopeful Counte∣nance; your Jolt-head—long Eare▪ and sober Sheeps look never failes. He should be a Barrister by his Phisiognomy.

Sir Froll.

He has some Knowledge in the Law indeed—besides, Madam, he has travell'd most parts of the World, and can discourse of the Manners and Customes of Nations very elegantly— ah, he has scap'd great Preferments very narrowly.

L. Bea••d.

Well, Sir — I wish I were younger for his sake, then perhaps I might say something.

Sir Lubb.

Madam, for ever I'll inclose you here, with the Cir∣cuit of this Ivory pale— What's next Sirra?

Boy.

You'll be the Park—

Sir Lub.

I'll be the Park, and you shall be the Deer:

••••ed where you will, on Mountain, or in Dale, Graze on my lips, and when those Hills are dry— When those—Hills are dry—are dry—hum— are dry; What's next you Dog?

Boy.

Stray farther where the pleasant Fountains lie—

Sir Lubb.

Stray further where the pleasant Fountains lie.

L. Beard.

Very well—I vow there's a great deal of pleasure in being Courted, I Swear there is— Come, Sir Frollick, pray let us walk down the next walk—here's Company coming, and another time, Sir Lubberly, more of this if you please—but, let the next be ••n Prose I beseech you—

Sir Lub.

Prose! Well—it shall sweet Queen; sweet old Queen it shall—any thing to please thee my Dear Landabrides.

Exeunt.

Enter Beverly in Disguise.

Bever.

So, now to my Mistriss; in this Disguise I think I need not fear being Dogg'd by my plaguy-Wife, or any of her Setters; for she's as Revengeful and jealous as an Italian that has trapan'd his Wife in Masquerade—Gad, these Wives are unreasonable Crea∣tures, as headstrong as wild horses, and as unconscionable as a Iew to a Christian that owes him money. Marriage is a meer Game at Bowles: where the Wife is the Jack, to which, 'tis true, all our en∣deavours should tend. But, how unreasonable is it to expect an ex∣cellent Close cast, when the Biass of our Bowles run clear another way— Ha— sure that's Beauford: 'Tis so, what makes him here?

Enter Beaufort and Brainworm.

B••auf.

I think she'll esteem me for a Man of honour: I am sure I am very punctual, as Faith 'tis true, I ever was in these Cases— Sirrah, look up that Walk, and try if you can see any body coming— Now, Dear Olivia, keep but thy word, and I am blest for ever.

Bever.

Olivia! on my life here's some Intrigue or other going forward—it may be I may make a Discovery.

Beauf.

Oh, here comes one I believe that will release my Doubts.

Brainw.

He does look as like a Pimp as another man, that's the truth on't—I believe Don, you may venture on him.

Beauf.

Have you no Message to deliver Friend, to a Gentleman that was to be walking here? no Ticket, nor Appointment, nor no such thing? hah!

Brainw.

From some distressed Lady, or Damsel, that is Destitute of ••uc••or, or so? No tidings, Friend; no tidings?

Beauf.

Peace Sirrah: Come, I'm sure I'm right, thou art the per∣son.

Bever.

Why, Faith Sir, I have a Message to deliver.

Beauf.

Very well, a very honest Fellow, Faith; here's money for thee.

Bever.

No reward, I' beseech you Sir, till you know whether I may deserve it or no? for I must know your name, and by some token or other, that you are the right perso••, before I can discover any thing.

Beauf.

And all the reason in the world faith—gad a per∣son of great Conduct, and understanding this—I see she's cunning; she chooses her man for these affairs. Well, to make all things clear friend, in the first place know my name is Beauford.

B••ver. B••auf.

So — oh my propitions fate —

aside

Brain.

And I am known by the Name and Title of Diggory Brain∣worm of B••oby-Town, in the County of Ham••hire, Yeoman.

Beauf.

Keep your distance, sirrah! then as a secure Token, Friend, that I am the true, real, appointed individual person, know that Olivia your Lady—and my goddess—about an hour since met me here, where after a world of happy raillery betwixt us, she bid me wait her here, and promis'd about this time to send a messenger to con∣duct me to her—hah—What think you now, is this token enough?

Bever.

Enough in conscience Sir, and I am now confirm'd, you are the right person, and may therefore be free in the relation; Know then Sir, that my Lady waits for you, she is alone Sir, and the cuckoldly Fop her Husband is abroad Sir.

Beauf.

Is he! the fool abroad—ha ha ha!

Bever.

Ay ay Sir! go on, go on and prosper — ha ha ha! ••'faith you are a happy man.

Beauf.

Ha ha ha—thank thee heartily faith; gad thou art a very obliging person—but thy Lady shall be good to thee upon my ac∣count.

Bever.

On his account—very good; oh how my heart beats for revenge—

Beauf.

Here's fortune now Rogue! here's fortune! well — I for∣give all my ill luck past for this days happy success, and is she alone, say'st thou? and is the cuckoldly Fop her Husband gone out?

Bever.

Gone, gone Sir, the coast is clear, and you may go and plunder the wealthy Magazine without controul; he Sir! alas she can quickly pop him out o'th' way, when she has any private designe— besides Sir, I was assistant in the business — for you must know Sir— I hate him mortally—

Beauf.

Dost thou? Why then the Devil tak•• me, if thou art not the civilest fellow that ever I met with—here; prethee let me be a little grateful to thee—gad I shall be asham'd of my self ••lse—

Bever.

Not a penny ••'faith Sir, let me beg you not to offer it.

Brain.

Well—This is certainly the first pimp that ever refus'd money.

Bever.

But come Sir, come away; methinks I long till you en∣joy your happiness.

Beauf.

Ah dear Rogue, and so do I too faith: Here's fortune now Sirrah—here's fortune!

Bever.

Hah! a Wag, you shall have her, wag you shall have her.

Beauf.

Ah dear Rogue, L'am bound to thee for ever—

Bever.

And poor Cuckold shall be lock'd out—ha ha ha!

Beauf.

Ha ha ha! ay no matter, no matter; let him! let him! Pox, what should dull Husbands do with such blessings?

Bever.

Ay, right, righ••▪ wha•• indeed? come, come, go with me, I'll place you both convenien••ly— ay wag wag come along▪

Beauf.

Thanks my dea•• charming Rogue — here's fortune now; here's fortune—

Exeunt.

Enter Servant.

Se••v.

My Lady sent me with a message to a Gentleman in these Walks, and the devil of any living creature I can find, but an old Woman a knitting —'faith I'll e'en go home agen; oh I think yonder he is—

Re-enter Beverly.

Bever.

So, now I think the Fox is shar'd, and cunningly, and shall accordingly be us'd, e'r he gets free agen — hah — This fellow must certainly be her messenger. 'Tis so — I know him now, but I'll hinder his discovery immediately —

Serv.

Sir, Sir,— My Lady staies for you—Oh Lord my Master!

Bever.

Yes Rascal 'tis I; your design is discover'd. Sirrah you come to convey Beauford to my wife?

Serv.

Oh good Sir forgive me, I did but as my Lady command∣ed.—

Bever

Well; to make you amends now, do what I command you, take no notice of my Disguis•• — but tell your Lady that I dogg'd you and Beauford to the Gard••n-house—and as soon as he was entered—lock'd him in. Do this faithfully, or expect not to live a day —For if I find thou ••ail'st in the least scruple, hadst thou a thou∣sand lives, thou shou'dst loose 'em all.

Serv.

Oh—I will be very faithful Sir.

Bever.

Away then, and now for my reveng•• — I ha••e this Beau∣ford; whatever my Wives designe was in this business—he I find, had a down-right rank, lewd intent— for which I'll reward him▪ I'll instantly order my servants to be ready, and whipping, and

pumping, tossing in a Blanket,—all that malice, or ill nature can in∣vent, I'll inflict upon him — Let him hereafter demand what satis∣faction he pleases.

And since to cuckold me was his intent, I'll act that Cuckold in his punishment.

Exit.