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YOur Joynture is agreed on; and Directions are given for the Drawing of the Writings; there∣fore put things in readiness, and dispose your self for Marriage; for it must be within a day or two.
Sure Sir, if you lov'd me, you'd not be so hasty to be rid of me.
It is the great Care and Love I have for thee, makes
me solicitous to see thee well-dispos'd. My Lord is a Person of Worth and Honour, and thou wilt be happy in his Love; Iacinta thou'lt be a Lady—
My Lord merits, I question not, a Wife much above me in Desert; But how do you think I can on the sudden, re∣solve to leave the Family of him that got me, bred me, and brought me up to what I am.
Your Mother did the same before You; and for this thou hast had all thy Education: This is the last great Act a Father can do for his Child; in this his Care ends, and when we give a Daughter in Marriage, 'tis suppos'd, we give her to more than a Father, for such is a Husband; Husband and Wife are one.
That rule Uncle, won't hold in Arithmetick, for according to the first principle, one and one make two.
Mad-cap Neice, meddle with your own matters. Let me see—
Nay Uncle, ner'e put on your Considering-Cap, for an Answer. What I say is true; and I'le give you a further De∣monstration, that Man and Wife are not one: For in this Age they are seldom, or never together; the Man's in one place, and the Wise in another▪ as far asunder as ever they can get. And you know it is impossible for one and the same thing to be at the same time in several places.
She has a very unhappy Wit. I am glad, Daughter, that you are going from her, for she's enough to spoil all the Young Women she meets with; but I hope she'l have a Husband will meet with her.
Never of your Choosing, Uncle.
Likely so, for you'r Hair-brain'd enough, to do things of your own Head. But your Father when he Dy'd, left you to my Care, and bid that you shou'd be Rul'd by me; and if you are not, your Disobedience will come home to you one day or other.
This is but talk. Do you think, Uncle, I han't as much Wit to choose a Husband as you?
Well, well, follow your own Course; but I hope
you'l get a Husband one day will Cudgel your Bones for you.—
But Uncle, it is not now as it was in your young dayes, Women then were poor sneaking sleepish Creatures. But in this Age, we know our own strength, and have wit enough to make use of our Talents. If I meet with a Husband makes my Heart ake, I'le make his Head ake I'le warrant him.
Nay, I am apt enough to believe one house will be too not to hold you long. I doubt not but your Husband (who e're has the ill fortune to be so) will in a short time be as weary of you as I am.
If he shou'd prove but half so ill-natur'd as you are (which certainly no Young Man can) I'd swear my self a Vir∣gin, and consequently, Sue a Divorce against him for Impo∣tency.
I must be gone, this Wen••h will never hold her prat∣tle; she'd out-talk e'm at a Bake-house.
Well, thou'rt a mad Wench to talk so.
Pish! I'le have Women say and do what they will: Have not we Rational Souls as well as Men; what made Wo∣men Mopes in former Ages, but being rul'd by a company of old Men and Women: Dotage then was counted Wisdom, and formerly call'd Gravity and good Behaviour.
What can'st thou advise me to in this extremity. I hate this Foolish Lord.
Let him know your Mind, and if he won't believe you, tell him he's an Unmannerly Fool.
If I break with him, my Father will conclude I affect Mr. Lovell, and to cross me, never consent I shou'd have him; And he's the only Man I can Love.
See! he's here, and our Gallant with him; wee'l con∣spute the Bu'sness with them.
Mr. Lovell, how durst you venture here.
This Gentleman told me your Father was to go abroad
this Afternoon; and by his perswasion and my own Inclinati∣ons, we adventur'd to wait on you, and just as we came into the Street, my Lord and he pass'd by us in a Coach.
And who sent for you Gallant?
I hope, Madam, you'l allow a man to look after his Heart when 'tis gone a'stray.
You cou'd not find it the last time you were here.
You conspir'd to juggle me on't; but I know well e∣nough which of you had it.
You are beholding to Mr. Lovell for your Knowledg.
No, Madam, upon my word, but he has told me his Adventures.
Well, Madam; I hope you'l stand to your Bargain.
We are no Flinchers; wee'l not be worse than our words.
Well then, you I challenge for my Mistress; you were the Lady I talk'd to in the Masque.
I am not her I'le assure you—
I am well assur'd it cou'd be none but you; I knew it when I was here before, tho' I did not then own it.
Take nay word Sir.
Lord that you shou'd think to deceive me; why all the while I was in the Company before, my Heart beat all on that side you stood, and my Cheek next you burnt and glo'de.
Ha, ha, 'slife he has not found it out yet.
Ha!
No, I'le be swore Careless han't you.
I'le be sworn Madam, Hilaria was the Person.
Ha, ha, ha: But that's my Cozen Iacinta.
No, no, no, did not you call her Hilaria as you went in.
Ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha!
I thought how well you know; and did that on purpose to try you—
Ba—
Now Careless thou art caught—
What wou'd I give now to come handsomely off: I must be impudent: Well, Madam, to let you see that I did, go both of you out of the Room, and come in Masqu'd, and if I don't choose the Right, I'le be content to resigne the Hopes of a Mistress.
There is but right and wrong.
To give you a greater Proof on't, I'le make my choice Blind-fold.
'Twill still be an even Wager that you hit on the right.
Careless, thou art Out-witted i'faith.
Servant, our Covenant is voyd for Non-performance of the Conditions.
But calling of me Servant after the Condition is bro∣ken, is a Confirmation—and will make it stand good in Law.
No Careless, that Quirk won't do neither.
But Madam, I hope you'l give a man leave to retreat, when he finds his Errour; your self occasion'd the Mistake, 'twas an Errour of my Hand, not of my Heart, for at the same time, I told you Hilaria was she, and you are Hilaria; Therefore 'twas you I meant.
Yes, yes, 'twas me you meant; when your Cheek glo'd, and your Heart beat on the left side!
Ha, ha, ha.
Ha, ha, ha.
Cozen, you are too great a Tyrant.
You pursue your Victory too severely; 'tis generous to give the Vanquish'd quarter.
I do more; I give him Liberty to make his retreat.
Ah Madam, your Father has met with his Lawyers
Clark, who told him his Master was not at home, and he's re∣turn'd already.
Convey Mr. Lovell out quickly Sir; will you go with him?
'Tis not possible, Madam, he's just coming into the Room.
What shall we do?
Ha! Mr. Lovell—Daughter, I see you observe my Commands well: Sir, I beseech you; What makes you here?
Sir, I come to wait on my Friend.
Yes Sir▪ I had much adoe to perswade him; but considering the bus'ness I came about, requir'd some Body to give you an Account of me, which none cou'd do better than he; he did adventure to trespass on you to serve me.
What Bus'ness, pray Sir!
Ay, what indeed?
It was my Fortune twice or thrice, to have a sight of your fair Niece, as she went abroad.
Sure he's not so mad to tell him.
To whom, Sir, I took so great a liking, that Day nor Night, I cou'd not rest, till I had found who she was, and where she liv'd; which I had no sooner done, but engag'd him to come along with me, to acquaint you who I am, and what my For∣tunes are, hoping to gain your leave, to make my Addresses to this fair Lady—
This I hope Sir, will gain me your Pardon.
Do you, Sir, know this Gentleman—
Yes, his Name is Careless; I believe, Sir, you might know his Father.
I did so, he was a worthy Gentleman; 'tis now some eight years since he dy'd.
'Tis so long; peace be with him.
He left some Twelve hundred a Year to his Son, then not at Age.
This Gentleman is that Son.
But has he that Estate?
Every Acre, Sir.
I heard you were a little wild.
I have my Froliques as most young Men have—but I keep my Estate out of the Devil's Clutches; I have yet not sold one Foot of Land, or cut down one Stick of Wood.
Nay Sir, if you were as wild as wild could be, you'd meet with your Match there, my Niece is as wild as you can be, she's Vain, Idle, Careless, and Talkative.
Uncle, you shou'd do in driving Bargains for Marriage as they do in Selling of Horses; tell their good Qualities, and leave it to 'em to find out the ill.
These are Faults will be discover'd in you at first sight.
Sir, I hope you'l like me ne're the worse for what he sayes.
Instead of his getting you for a Wise, you intend to get him for a Husband.
It is more to the humour of the Age; if you won't com∣mend me, I'le commend my self; and if I thought but half so well of him as Id' of my self, wee'd soon shake hands fo•• to have and to hold without your leave.
You see her humour Sir, if after this you dare venture on her, I shall not counsel her against you; provided what Mr. Lovel and your self say be confirm'd by good Authors; for I wish her well Marry'd.
Stay Uncle, now I think on't, you may take him with you. Marriage is quite out of Fashion, and I hate to be out of it, as much as you do to be in't; if he had Ten or Twelve Thousand a year, would keep me a Coach and six Horses, and all things suitable to that Grandeu••r, I might admit him as a Gallant, and all that—
I'le leave you to her; at this mad rate she talks all the Year round.
I did not think Careless, thou had'st had a Lye so much at command.
It was to serve my Friend and these Ladies.
But the Jest wou'd be, if your Lye should prove true, and you shou'd play such a Simple trick, as to fall in L'ove with me indeed and indeed.
Make your own words true, and accept me for a Gal∣lant, I know not what may follow—
But you know what you must have first—A huge Estate; but because you brought us so handsomely off? There's my Hand to Kiss, and I confer on you the Title of my Ser∣vant.
He cur'd a present Evil. I wish he cou'd as easily divert what I fear will follow.
Madam, we must court Fortune as we do a Mistress; never leave her when she's in a good humor. Let's hear your Grievance:
'Tis the Match my Father drives on so eagerly with that Lord.
Will he not be satisfi'd, if you tell him you can't love him.
Hee'l not take that Answer from her, nor ne'r a Wo∣man alive.
He thinks we are both in love with him.
Since Dinner I writ a Love-Letter to him; I have made him believe too, that the Rich Heiress that lodges in this street languishes for him.
And he pitties her extreamly.
Hark you Lovel; Let's put him upon courting this Great Fortune.
But it may be he'l not quit his hold here.
For so great an Advantage he may: And it must be your parts, Ladies, to give him sufficient grounds to conclude, that neither of you love him.
Let us alone to give him proof of that.
Then we will contrive to bring him in Disgrace with your Father. Lady of the Bed-chamber, you must act a part in our Comedy, attend us to the Door; you shall receive Instru∣ctions as we goe.
Here's my Father; let us retreat and consult about our Affairs.
You know this Lady I suppose.
I have seen her: But I am very well acquainted with her Uncle.
And has she so great a Fortune?
Yes, it lies in the three Banquers hands we were but now speaking of.
I'know it does; for when I parted with you, I made enquiry, and they confirm'd it: She lodges in the middle of this street. Mrs. Rich is her Name.
Right: But my Lord, do you think she has so great a Kindness for you?
I speak not without good Reason; and were I not Engag'd by Love and Honour to your Daughter, I wou'd make an Attempt.
Her Uncle trusts her not out of his sight.
I cou'd find ways to speak to her, but I prize Mrs. Ia∣cinta above all Women. Tho' there are others have no small Kindness for my Person, and one you know too•• but she shall be nameless; yet I'le shew you what a passionate•• Letter she sent me. You shall hear it.
My Lord:
Your Person is so Taking, and your Obligements so conquering, that no Woman living, and you beholding, can resist Loving: There∣fore since of this you are knowing; I doubt not your pardoning her, that with Blushing tells you her Ailing; the Ioy of whose being, is, when you and she is seeing: Your's remaining for Everlast∣ing.
This is a very Odd strayne.
Ah, 'tis very Amorous, and I pitty the Lady for your sake.
Is she Related to me!
The first Letter of her Name is Hilaria.
My Niece, this is some Trick of hers; but I dare not
tell him he's abus'd, lest he should take it ill, and think my Daughter had a hand in't—But of all that love you, your Lordship can have but one.
True; yet 'twou'd vex a Man to Discard Trumps, but 'tis a forc't Put: This I tell you, to give you a Proof of my Love for your Daughter. I know poor Thing she loves Me.
My Lord! You'r a happy Man, we have over heard your Amours.
I did not think you had been so nigh.
Without Doubt, you were wrapt in your Mothers Smock.
Hey—Ho!
Observe that Sigh, and how she eyes me. Lady you'r Melancholy.
You call'd my Thoughts from a pleasing Contemplation.
I was thinking—
Of what Madam?—
Of you my Lord.
I saw you look wishly on Me.
I was thinking what good Eyes your Lordship has.
O fine Eyes! if they stood but more out, and were not sunck in's head, like Candle-Snuffs in their Sockets.
And did not squint so much.
Mine, mine Ladies.
Why Baggages.
He has a handsome Nose too.
Was it not an Inch too short.
And turn'd up at the end with the Air of a French Dog.
How's this?
Why Girls, what mean you?
Pretty good Cheeks—Were they not so lean and pale!
And fal'n in for want of Side-Teeth.
The Devil's in e'm both.
A handsome Mouth were it not so wide.
And his Lips not so Thin and Blewish—
I am abus'd.
Have done, or I'le lay my Staff about your ears.
His Gums not so worn away.
And his Teeth not so rotten.
His Mouth not so ••urr••d.
His Breath not so scented with the French Hogo.
Disgrace to my Dignity.
They are Mad, Distracted. They know not what they doe.
He's Leather-jaw'd—Chap-falne.
And has a Swarthy, Tawny, Tallow Complexion.
Peace, and have done in the Devil's name.
In fine, was your Lordship but ten times as handsom, you'd be a pretty well-favour'd Man.
And fit to be lov'd by a Woman of Sixty and upwards.
Intolerable, insufferable, insupportable!
Ho! Within there!
What's the matter?
You Huswifes you, say you are Mad, say you are Drunk, or any thing; or I'le swinge you.
No, no, Uncle; We are neither mad nor drunk.
Husie; your Reason for this.
Why does he make his Brags that we are in Love with him, and so fond of his Company?
We have given him Proofs of our Kindness. In Love with him!
Get you up to your Chambers; Go! Husbands;
Halters you deserve—
Have Patience, be pacified, the Baggages shall down on their knees to you.
Ha, ha, ha! This is only to blind you. Ha, ha, ha, 'Twas your Nieces Frolick; they love me as they love their own eyes—and because I told you on't—Ha, ha, ha— See what tricks they play to cozen you, ha, ha, ha.
I'le instantly know the truth on't, or—
Henceforward, I will hate their whole Sex for their sakes, I will defame the Living, revile the Dead, and leave a Curse to the Generation of Females to come.
My Lord, my Lord—
Avoid thou She-Devil; thou art a Satan in Petti∣coats.
Ah my Lord; if you knew my Errand, you'd say I was an Angel; I have such News for your Lordship.
News! What is't?
If a Woman might but trust your Lordship with her Secrets.
I hope she's in love with me; she's a Bit will serve to stay a mans stomach when he's hungry. What Secrets Pretty Beatrice? Dost thou love me?
Ah dearly, dearly, my Lord—But—
But you are asham'd to tell me your mind.
I am afraid—
Thou should'st have a great Belly—
No, my Lord, that you shou'd tell—
No: I'le tell no body; go, go up to your Cham∣••er, and I'le steal after you—
No my Lord, I can do the Business here—
Art thou a Virgin?
As to Deeds a very Innocent; but in Words and Thoughts, I have been a little waggish.
Come into the next Room.
No, no, I am only to tell you—
No matter for telling, we will talk afterwards,
See this Gold, my Lord here are Twenty pieces.
And you wou'd have as much more.
I shall deserve it.
Wilt thou go then, go.
This Gold my Lord was given me.
For that, that thou hast more mind I should have.
No, my Lord; it was given me to betray my Mi∣stress.
Hau—Who has Plots upon her Body?
No body; it was given me to deprive her of you, my Lord.
What mean'st thou?
To tell your Lordship that—But I am so afraid, you shoud tell agen.
I'le be secret on my Honour.
That there is a rich Heiress not far off in love with your Lordship.
Humh—And is not this a Plot laid—
Yes, my Lord, 'tis a Plot laid.
To betray me—
Yes, my Lord—
And you'l discover it.
To none but your Lordship: It is to betray you, but will your Lordship be sure not to speak on't agen?
I will not.
To betray your Lordship into a Marriage with this great Fortune.
How!
I am to tell her Name too, and how you shall come to see her, for all the Dragon her Uncle; and how you shall steal a Marriage and all.
What say'st thou Beatrice?
Nothing but truth: Her Name is Mrs. Rich, she lives in this street, and is sick in Bed for love of you. She sent for me and gave me this Gold, with promise of much more, if I wou'd be true to her, and acquaint you with her Condition; and be instrumental in helping her to see you—
How Beatrice; may I come to the sight of her.
She has brib'd her Physician to joyn in the Conspiracy; he will pretend to bring an able Doctor of his Acquaintance to see her, that with him he may consult of her Disease and Cure. You are to be this Physician, and the Person in the habit of an Apothecary—which you are to provide, for we know none.
Let me alone for that!
Then if your Lordship like her; you may there Marry her.
A very neat Invention! Oh subtile Woman!
This my Lord was my Plot.
'Tis well laid.
She has promis'd I shall live with her when I am Marry'd.
Thou shalt—But Beatrice, thou'lt keep thy Maiden for me, wilt thou not.
If I find you can keep Secrets; I will trust your Lord∣ship with any thing.
I know thou did'st love me better than thy Mistress, or her Flirking Cozen—Well, were it not for what thou hast told me, their Affronts wou'd drive me to my Country-House; where I'd live like a Hermit, and leave half the Town languishing.
You wou'd leave my Lady a bleeding. But I hope your Lordship is better Natur'd, and more just, than to revenge the Faults of a few upon the whole Sex. I'le go put my Affairs in a posture for my getting abroad to wait on your Lordship.
And I the mean time, will disengage my self from all concerns here, and to Iacinta's Father resign the Interest he gave me in her.
Go thy ways, Lord Credulous; how greedily he swal∣lows the Bait with which he was caught before.
A Fool will often run into the Snare, But once escap'd, the Wise-man does beware.