The Spanish wives a farce, as it was acted by His Majesty's servants at the theatre in Dorset-Garden.
Pix, Mary, 1666-1720., Brémond, Gabriel de. Pelerin.

ACT II.

SCENE, a Chamber.

Enter Elenora Marchioness of Moncada, and Orada.
Elen.
Dost think the Messenger got off, Orada?
Or.
Faith I know not, Madam, — I thought I heard the Marquess's Voice as he went out. — The Fellow seem'd very cunning. —
Elen.
All his Policy but little would avail him,
If my Husband met him, — by Heaven
'Tis kindly done of Count Camillus, to leave his Wealth,
His Palaces, and all the Pleasures of delightful Rome,
To follow wretched me to Barcellona.
I am a thing accurs'd by cruel Guardians,
For my Parents dy'd when I was young; they wou'd not else
Sure have forc'd me, condemn'd to an old jealous
Madman. — I saw his Follies and his Humors, and I begg'd,
Page  12Like a poor Slave, who views the Rack before him, —
All in vain; they were inexorable. — so may just Heaven
Prove to them in their greatest need!
Or.

This is a melancholy Thought, Complaints won't break Locks; we must set our Wits at work to free our selves. I have search'd the Lodgings round, but there's no Passage; an imprison'd Mouse could scarce escape.

Elen.

But prithee, dear Orada, how got you in favour with my Lord? He us'd to hate ye abominably.

Or.

True; and whilst he did so, it was impossible for me To serve you Ladiship. — So I wheel'd about, —

Rail'd at you and all your Ways most heartily,
And immediately obtain'd his Grace.
Elen.

Wou'd that do?

Or.

Yes, with a bantering Letter I show'd him, pretending I had got it from you; and a long Harangue how Wives ought to hear with their Husbands Ears, see with their Eyes, and make use of no sense without Permission. In fine, I ra∣vish'd him with my Discourse, till he threw those wither'd Sticks, his Arms, about me, and swore I shou'd remain his Heart's Joy.

Elen.

Tis a great Point gain'd, you must wheedle him this Night with some Story, and keep him in the Closet— whilst I watch for Camillus, or his Agent.

Or.

I warrant you, Madam.

Elen.
Orada, get me the Song I love, the succeeding tedious;
Imprison'd Wretches thus count the succeeding Hours,
And groan the melancholly Time away.
Page  13A SONG.
BE gone, be gone, thou Hagg despair;
Be gone, back to thy Native Hell:
Leave the Bosom of the Fair,
Where only Ioy shou'd dwell.
Or else, with Misers, willing Revels keep;
And stretch thy wretched Lids from Sleep.
But hence be gone, and in thy hated room
Let Hope, with all its gentle Blessings, come.
Page  14(A Noise of unlocking Doors.)
— So! now my Jaylor comes.
Or.
Then I'll observe my Cue. — Come, come Madam,
You must not complain.— Suppose your Husband
Kept you in an Oven, or a Cellar, you ought to be content —
I say, — Wives must submit.
El.
Hold thy Tongue, Impertinence! —
When you were good for any thing, my Husband
Wou'd not let ye come at me: now he has brought you
To his turn, I must be perpetually plagu'd with you.
Enter the Marquess.
Marq.
You are a perpetual Plague to me, I'm sure —
You hate every body that tells you your Duty.
El.
Inhuman Spaniard! — what wouldst thou have?
—Am I not immur'd, buried alive?
Marq.

Yes, yes; I have your Body, but your Heart is with the young Count Camillus. D'ye blush, ye Strumpet, in Ima∣gination — Ye Eve! Dalilan Devil! I'll let out that bounding Blood. — Orada — get a Surgeon to take away fifty ounces.

Orad.

My Lord, you are not mad! What! have a Surgeon quiddling her white Arm, and looking Babies in her Eyes!

El.

Monster! be thy self the Butcher, and let my Heart's Blood out: That Gentleman you nam'd has Honour, Truth, and Virtue.

Marq.

Thou ly'st, false Women! he's a Rake, a Hellhound, and wallowing now in Rome's Brothels.

Or.

I could contradict him if I durst.

Aside.

Elen.

(laughing)
Perhaps so.

Marq.

D'ye fleer, poysonous Witch? I am going to dispatch the ast Business that brought me to Barcellona. Then, Minion, thou shalt be immur'd in a remote Castle, where thou sha't not see the Face of Human-kind, except thy Women, and when I design to visit thee.

Page  15
Elen.
Know this, and let it gnaw thy Jealous Heart:
Thy Visits will be my severest Punishment.
Marq.
Watch her, Orada; preach those Maxims thy Zeal for me suggests; let her not have Liberty to think.
Or.
Fear not; let me alone to teaze her.
Exit Marquess, locking the Doors after him.
Elen.
Ay, — make all fast —
Insufferable Tyrant! — Come Orada,
Let's go view the dear place, which at
Wish'dfor Night brings my dear Camillus to me.
Exeunt.

SCENE, a Hall.

Enter the Marquess.
Marq.

Where's this plaguy Governor? I must have him with me, because 'tis about the King's Business; tho' I hate him for breaking our Spanish Customs, in letting his Jilting Wife have such Liberty. — Ha! here she comes, — and a Spark with her; — I'll abscond, and see how virtu∣ously she carries her self.

Enter Collonel Peregrine, and the Governor's Lady.
Lady.

I dare not stay, — my Husband thinks I am gone into my Chamber; if by any chance he should come this way, all our Hopes are ruin'd.

Coll.

Were he by, I'd seal my Vows upon thy melting Lips —Oh! receive my Heart; it flutters near thee, and struggles for passage.

Lady.

I am cover'd o'er with Blushes!

Marq.

(aside, peeping)
Confound your Modesty! were you mine, you should be cover'c o'er with Blood.

Coll.

My Life! can't ye contrive some way to bless me? Your Sex were ever most ingenious lucky at Invention.

Page  16
Lady.

Suppose you pretended a Quarrel in England, — for which you were pursu'd, and begg'd Leave to hide here. — If you were in the House, I might get an Opportunity to vi∣sit ye, — But sure you would not be such a naughty man to ruine me, if I did.

Col.

Not for the World!

Lady.

I wou'd fain love ye, and preserve my Honour.

Col.

That is preserv'd whilst 'tis conceal'd: The Roses in your Cheeks will only wear a fresher Die, — and those dear Eyes are no Tell-tales, Love will make 'em shine and sparkle more. — I'll put your Advice in execution.

Lady.

I must not venture on another moment. —Farewell.

Exeunt severally.
Col.

Farewell, my Blessing.

Enter Marquess.
Marq.

Oh Women! Women! Women! —They are Cro∣codiles, they are painted Serpents, gilded Toys, disguis'd Fiends, —But why name I these? They are Women— Just such another is my Damsel of Darkness; if Fortune wou'd but throw a handsom Fellow in her way. — Here comes the Governor, singing, I warrant ye,— poor Credulous Fool, —I cannot but laugh — ha, ha, he!

Enter the Governor singing: Let her have her will, &c.

—Hey da! I am glad to find you so merry. 'Tis as great a wonder to see you laugh, as 'twou'd be to see me cry — And that I han't done these Fifty Years, old Boy.

Marq.

My Lord, which is best, for a mans Wife to Cuckold him in Imagination or Reality?

Gov.

Lord! Lord! your Head is always upon Cuckolding, All the Cuckolds may be hang'd, for what I care.

Marq.

Oh fie, no! Hanging wou'd be a scurvy Death for a man of your Quality.

Gov.

Why — what d'ye mean by that, now, ha? —Don't provoke me, I say — do not — I shall make old ToledoPage  17 walk if you do, for all 'tis in my own House.

Marq.

I must not tell him now,— It will put him so out of Humor, he won't go with me, — 'Twas only a Jest, my Lord, — I wou'd beg the Honour of your Company to the Duke of Sidonia's.

Gov.

With all my Heart — come, come:

Sings.

Tormented still's the Iealous Fool,
Himself, nor Bosom Wife can never rest:
Yet he often proves the Woman's Tool,
Whilst the Contented Man is ever blest.
Exeunt.

SCENE, A Chamber.

Enter Camillus, Friar Andrew, and Hidewell, with a Ladder of Ropes.
Cam.

So, Hidewell! Hast thou got the Ladder of Ropes?

Hidew.

Yes, my Lord, here's all the Tackling.

Fri.

Is it strong? — for I am something weighty.

Cant.

How, Father! just now you said you were worn to Skin and Bone.

Fri.

Ay, my Lord; but you know Bones ill cover'd will soonest be broken.

Cam.

True; take care of your self besure.— Hidewell, I have alter'd my Mind,—Thou sha't along with us; watch on the outside the Wall, and give us notice when the Coast is clear.

Hidew.

With all my Heart.

Fri.

Let me see, have I got my Holy Water about me?

Cam.

Holy Water! for what?

Fri.

Oh! I always love to say my Prayers, and have those Trinkets, when I undertake a dangerous Design.

Cam.

Don't be so prophane, Domine,— you'l never thrive, — yet, if your Devotion's strong, you've time Page  18 enough — We shan't go this Hour or two.

Fri.

Nay, I won't hinder ye, — an Ejaculation as I go along does the Business.

Enter a Serva
Serv.

My Lord, the English Colonel, that lodges in the House, sends to know if you are at leisure.

Cam.

Tell him, I am, — and long to kiss his Hands. — I like that Gentleman, he appears brave

Exit Servus.

And bold — shou'd our Designs grow desperate:
I dare believe he would not scruple his Assistance.
Fri.

Faith and troth I like him too, — he treats like an Em∣peror; I din'd with him to day, — and he so gentilely, so agreeably forc'd Flesh upon me, that by St. Dominick, I cou'd not refue him; tho' 'tis a strict Fast, a horrible strict Fast, as I hope to be an Abbot. — Then the obliging Toad has such a Waggish Eye, I'll pawn my eads, a plaguy Dog for the Women, and they are ever good-natur'd:—By his Holiness's Toe, I love the Sex my self,— for all this dangling Robe, and my foolish Vow of Chastity.

Cam.

'Tis pity you were not a Knight-Errant,— the Church has robb'd the Ladies of a famous Adorer.

Fri.

No, faith, my Lord, I do 'em more Service in these Weeds: I have sav'd many a desperate Soul.

Cam.

How!

Fri.

Thus: in procuring them the full Possession of their Desires; and that suely brought 'em to Repentance; and you know, what Repentance brings 'em to.

Hidew.

Truly, Father, I shall grow angry with you; for if once the Priests take up the Office of Procuring, there will be no Bus'ness for a Lay-Pimp.

Cam.

Peace, — the Collonel comes.

Page  19Enter Colonel Peregrine.
Col.

— I am your Lordship's humble Servant, — I have just had some Musick to complement me, — I am a great Lover of it, — if your Lordship is so, we'l have the Enter∣tainment there.

Cam.

Nothing can oblige me more. — Some Chairs there!

A Dialogue-Song and Dances: at the time of the Dances Camillus and Peregrine seem in Discourse.
Hidew.

If your Lordship pleases, being in this Dress, I will aim at a Jigg, I danc'd thus once in a Masquerade.

Cam.

Prithee do.

A Iigg by Hidewell.

A SONG. Betwixt Mr. Leveridge a Spaniard, and Mrs. Cross an English Lady.
He. FAirest Nymph that ever bless'd our Shore,
Let me those charming Eyes adore,
And fly no more, and fly no more.
She. Spaniard, thy Suit is all in vain;
I was born where Women reign,
And cannot brook the Laws of Spain.
He. For thee my Native Customs I'll forgo,
Cut my black Locks, and turn a Beau.
She. E're I submit to be your Wife,
Listen to an English Husband's life;
With Sparks abroad I'm every day,
Gracing the Gardens, Park, or Play,
Hearing all the pretty things they say;
Give and take Presents, and when that's done,
You thank the Beaux when I come home.
Page  20
He. Oh! I now my Temper fear.
She. Oh! sigh not yet, there's more to hear:
At my Levy crowding Adorers stand,
Fix'd on my Eyes, and grasping my white Hand;
All their Conrts and Oglings bent on me,
Not one regardful Look towards thee:
At this thou must be pleas'd, or else not see.
He. Then we must part, and I must die.
She. If thou art such a Fool, what care I?
He. I cannot share thee, so I am undone.
She. A wiser will supply thy Room.
Chorus. Then we must part, &c.
If thou art such a Fool, &c.
I cannot share thee, &c.
A wiser will supply, &c.
Col.

(To the Singers and Dancers)
— So, well perform'd; — return to my Apartments, I'll be with ye presently.

Exeunt.
Cam.

The odness of our Adventures surprize me: — Both our Mistrisses in the same House! — I hope 'twill fur∣ther our Designs.

Col.

It must. —My Lord, I have a Favour to beg; That you wou'd lend me one of your Implements to morrow, to manage a Plot I have in agitation.

Cam.

Most willingly take your Choice.

Fri.

I am at your Service.

Hidew.

You are so forward, — Canonical Fornication-Broker, — I believe I am fittest for the Gentleman's Service.

Fri.

Goodlack, Upstart! I help'd ye to my Lord, — and now ye are for engrossing all Bus'ness to your self.

Col.

Nay, — I must have the most expert, because the Case is difficult.

Page  21
Fri.

Well! I'll not say much! — But here stands little Andrew, who has undertook to bring a Smock-fac'd Cardinal to a Maddona, secur'd with a Guard more numrous than Argus's Eyes, and more dreadful than the Dragon you wot of — yet spite of massy Doors, impenetrable Bolts, and Italian Padlocks, ffectd it.

Hidew.

Phough! what's that! I have carried on an Amour for the Queen of Spain, — convey'd her Letters made up in Wax-Candles; Love-Complaints writ in the inside of her Glove; besides a Thousand other Contrivances you never dreamt of. — 'Tis true, at last the Fate of all Court-Pimps was mine: I fell into Disgrace; as that had rais'd me, so it ruin'd me; I lost a Coach and Six by my Profession, — And shall you pretend to Rival me?

Fri

You lost! why, Sirrah, Sirrah! I tell thee, if I had im∣ploy'd my Parts in Church-Politicks, in Tricks of Priestcraft, by this time I had been Pope. — But the bringing kind lo∣ving things together, was dearer to me than the Tripple Crown, —And shall a Varlet contend with me?

Col.

Gentlemen! dispute no more; I find either of you is qualified for my purpose.— My Noble Lord, good Night, — if you want me, on the least notice, I am ready.

Exit Col.

Cam.

I thank you, dear Neighbor, good Night. — Hide∣well, take up the Ropes, and come away.

Fri.

Along, Blunderbuss.

Hidew.

I hope, Father Peremptory, before to morrow Morn∣ing, you'l stand in need of my Cunning, to deliver that lov'd Carcass from some imminent Danger.

Fri.

I defie thee, and all thy shallow Imaginations.

Cam.

Leave jangling, and make haste.

Exeunt.
Page  22

SCENE, a Palace.

Enter the Marquess, Orada following him.
Ora.

— My Lord, I have a Thousand things of greater consequence to say. — Pray return.

Marq.

Dear Orada, by and by; I must see where my Devil of a Wife is.

Ora.

You know she cannot pass the Lodgings, perhaps she's at her Devotions.

Marq.

No, she's too foul to Pray.

Ora.

(Taking him by the Arm)
— But, my Lord, — as I was saying, —

Marq.

(Flinging from her)
I'll return immediately. —

Ora.

There's no keeping this mad Fool out of his Wife's sight; — They must e'en to Bed, whilst I parle with the Lover.

Enter Marquess, pulling in Elenora.
Marq.

— So, Gentlewoman! I have caught ye! — How? With your Head out at Window, making your amorous Com∣plaints!

Elen.

I was almost stifled for want of her. — Sure you are not Jealous of the Trees and Stars, — They were my only Objects.

Marq.

Oh Impudence! did I not hear you say, When will he come; my Light, my Life, break thro' this Veil of Dark∣ness, and shoot with Rays of Comfort on me?

Ora.

(aside)
A duce of these thinking Minds! so brimfull of Cogitations, they must run over.

Elen.

I knew you behind me, and therefore did it to tor∣ment ye.

Marq.

It may be so; but I sha'n't trust ye — Come, into the Bedchamber. — Orada, do you School her, — I'll wath for your Light and Life my self.

Page  23
Or.

My Lord, you had better go to Bed with her, and then you'll be secure.

Marq.

No, no; in, in.

(Shuts 'em in and locks the Door)
— Now for my Pistols —that I may give this Midnight-Guest the Welcome he deserves.
Exit.

SCENE changes to an Orchard.

Count Camillus and Friar Andrew come down the Wall by a Ladder of Ropes.
Friar.

—So! —We are got well in; Heaven send us safe out agen!

Cam.

Father, Father! don't trouble Heaven in this Affair, you'l never prosper.

Friar.

Bless me, my Lord! Prayers are natural to me: if you are so wicked to neglect 'em, I can't help that.

Cam.

Come, mind your Bus'ness: where's the Whistle?

Friar.

Here, here, — now for a delicious Vision, Of a peeping Angel!

Whistles.

(The Marquess above.)
Marq.

The Signal's given, and here's the Answer.

Shoots off a Pistol.

(Friar Andrew falls flat.)
Cam.

We are discover'd; and if I stay, all other Opportunities are left for ever. —

A Cry within of Thieves! Thieves!

—Why Friar! Friar! Father! You are not hurt, the Bul∣lets went over our Heads.

Friar.

Are ye sure I am not hurt? — I did conceive I was kill'd.

Cam.

No, no; but I know not what you may be if you stay — Follow me, with speed.

Cam. gets over the Ladder.

Friar.

Oh Pox! the Devil of all ill Luck! ruin'd, hang'd,* drawn, and quarter'd! No possibility of esca∣ping without a Miracle, — and I can't have the Im∣pudence to expect a Miracle.—

Page  24Noise within, Where! Where! Thieves follow.
—Oh! they come! they come! — and now at my greatest Extremity I cannot pray. — God so! here's a Tree! — I'll try to mount it.
Gets up the Tree.

Enter the Marquess, and several Servants.
Marq.

Search well, Boys! leave not a Shrub or Tuft of Grass unexamin'd — Five Pistoles to him who finds One.

1 Serv.

I warrant ye, my Lord! let us alone for ferreting 'em! — Soho! what have we here —A Pox, 'tis a Stub of a dead Tree — 'thas broke my Nose.

(Another Servant looking up in the Tree, where the Friar is.)
2 Serv.

Oh Rogue! Are ye there? I'll be with ye presently.

(Friar Andrew, as the Fellow gets up, throws his Bottle of Holy-water full in his Eyes, and pulls his Cowl over his Face, and roars out: They bot fall from the Tree toge∣ther.)
— The Devil, the Devil! oh, my Eyes are out!
The rest cry, The Devil!
They drive the Marquess in, who often turns, and cries:
Let me see him! let me see him!

The Friar follows 'em roaring.

SCENE changes to the inner part of the House.

Several Servants enter in Confusion, — a great knocking at the Door, and cry of Fire, FireOne of the Servants open the Door, — Enter Hidewell, Men and Maids, as from their Beds— some crying, Fire, some Murder, Treason, &c. After them— Enter Friar Andrew, driving several Servants, who run out, crying, the Devil! the Devil!
Hidew.

— Make haste, unlucky Devil! — 'Twas I cry'd Fire! open'd the Door for your deliverance— Fly, and own me for the Master of your Art for ever.

Page  25
Friar.

I cannot stay to thank ye, — But — I yield, I yield.

Exit running.

Enter the Governor, in his Night-Cap, and Sword drawn.
Gov.

Benedicta Maria! What! Fire, Murder, and Treason all abroach at once! — a horrible Plot! — By the Honour of Spain, a terrible one, as I hope to be a Grandee!

Enter the Governor's Lady atended.
Lady.

Sywell, what can be the meaning of this? My Collo∣nel would not come in such a way. — My Lord! my Deary! the Matter, — the Cause of this Disturbance!

Gov.

Here, Sirrah! raise all the Guards: Oh Tittp! we're like to be murder'd, — drown'd, and blown up, no body knows how, nor which way: A damnable Plot! by his Maje∣sty's Mustaches I swear!

Lady.

Sure 'tis a false Alarm,—The House has been searcht by soe Servants discreerer than the rest,—and they find nothing.

Enter Marquess, cutting his Servants.
Mrq.
Villains! Dogs! under the notion of the Devil,
These Sheep-lookt Rogues, these Dastard Whelps,
Have let the Robber of my Honour escape; whilst I
But just examin'd if my Wife was safe, the Wolf, the Goat is gone.
Gov.

Hey da! my Lord Marquess, Are we then alarm'd on∣ly with a jealous Whim of yours? By the Peace and Pleasure of my Life, I'll suffer it no longer. — Any other of my Palaces are at your Service; but such a Wasp shall molest my Honey-hive no more.

Marq.

Uncivil Lord! thy Palaces, nor all thy Wealth shou'd bribe my stay,— To morrow I've resolv'd for my departure, — in the interm, I desire an hours Conference.

Gov.

Soon as you please, I am free.

Enter a Servant, with Hidewell.
Serv.

My Lord, here we've found a man that 〈◊〉 body knows.

Page  26
Gov.

Ha! who are ye, Sirrah? Your Name? From whence d'ye come? Whither d'ye go? What's your Business? — Answer me all at once.

Hidew.

I daut I caunt, — but I'll do no more than monny a Mon; I will tell ye the truth: Coming to Morket with my Fruit, d'ye zee, Ich heard the noise of Fire, Fire! Thieves, ond such-like, — zo che thought good Crabtree-stick might walk amongst the Rogues; zo Ich have left the Fruit with our Margery, and come with main Vorce to help ye, d'ye zee.

Gov.

An honest Lad! and, d'ye hear, you may sell your Fruit to my Family.

Hidew.

O Lard, O Lard! Ch'am a made Mon, and my Wife and Children: what! zell my Fruit to my Lord Governor — made for ever! henceforth I'll scorn my Neighbors, and de∣spise my Betters.

Mar.

I like this Fellow, because I search'd him throughly, and found him no Go-between.—Here, Sirrah! there's something for ye, — and were I to stay, ye shou'd ha my Custom.

Hidew.

I thank your Honours.

Gov.

(to a Sentinel)
Let him out.
Exit Hidew.

Marq.

Youll remember to morrow morning early.

Gov.

Most certainly.

Marq.

(aside)
Then I'll convince this credulous easie man what need there is of watching one's Wife: —Good-night.
Exit.

Gov.

Farewell; go thy ways, for a troublesome, maggot-pated, jealous-crownd Simpleton, as thou art: — Hey boy, Tittup! how ist Tittup? how shall you and I get to sleep again Tittup? ha!

Lady.

I know not.

Gov.

What, moody, Tittup!

(Sings)

I'll rouse ye, and mouse ye, and touse ye as long as I can,
Till squeaking I make ye confess:
There's Heat in a vigorous Old Man,
When he loves to excess, when he loves to excess.
Exeunt.
The End of the Second ACT.