The mulberry-garden a comedy : as it is acted by His Majestie's servants at the Theatre-Royal / written by the Honourable Sir Charles Sidley.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Sir John Everyoungs House stands.

Enter Sir John Everyoung, and Sir Samuel Forecast.

Ever.

WEll, for all this heat, let's every one Govern his own Family as he has a mind to't; I never vex my self that your Daughters Live shut up as if they were in Spain or Italy; Nor pray don't you trouble your self that mine See Plays, Balls, and take their innocent Diversion, As the Custom of the Country, and their age requires.

Forec.

They are my Neeces, as they are your Daughters, And I'le tell you, you spoil 'um with your own Examples: youth may well be allow'd to be Stark mad, when they see age so Extravagant: Is that a Dress for my elder Brother, and a Reverend Justice?

Ever.

Yes, and a properer than your little Cuffs, Black Cap, and Boots there, for a Gentleman.

Forec.

Of Eighteen I confess, but not of Fifty.

Ever.

Yes, though he were as old as any before The Flood; and for my part I'le not bate a Riband For all the whole Tribe of you can say: you know Your self every Fool wou'd fain be thought wise; And why an old man shou'd not desire to be Thought young, I see no Reason: as long as

I am whole at heart, I'm resolv'd my Cloaths Shall n'ere betray me.

Forec.

There's no need on't, your face does it sufficiently; Come I'm asham'd to see you every day Set out thus powder'd, and trim'd, like an old Player, To act a young Prince; your Periwig I like Very well, it serves to keep your bald pate warm, But that flirting Hat there looks as it were Made rather for your Wit than your Head. Pray which is most a-la-mode, Right Reverend Spark?—Points, or Laces? Girdle, Or Shoulder-Belts? what say your Letters Out of France?

Ever.

Lord, what pains you take to Quarrel At my Dress and Mirth, as if age were not Tedious enough already, but we Must adde neglect of our selves, and moroseness Toward others: Children now adays are Not so fond of their Parents, that we Need use any Art to make 'um hate us.

Fore.

Well, go then, and carry your Daughters abroad, And break their Bellies with Sillabub, 'tis the Greatest kindness you can do 'um now; As you have bred 'um, you may e'ne keep 'Um to your self, and save their Portions; I believe no body will be very fond of a Hide-Park Filly for a Wife; nor an old Boy That looks like a Pedlar's Pack for a Father-in-Law. But now I think on't, you are Such a Spark, they'd lose their Reputations With you if they had any.

Ever.

For ought I see good Brother, they stand As fair in the opinion of the world as yours, And have done nothing but what I like very well.

Fore.

What do you count it nothing, to be all Day abroad, to live more in their Coach Than at home, and if they chance to keep The House an Afternoon, to have the Yard

Full of Sedans, the Hall full of Footmen And Pages, and their Chambers cover'd all over With Feathers and Ribands, dancing and playing At Cards with 'um till morning.

Ever.

Why, where's the hurt of all this?

Fore.

O no hurt at all; but if they were my Daughters I should be looking for Cradles and Nurses, I shou'd be sorry to hear Diana or Althea Went abroad without some discreet body To look after them, or were at home indeed Without imploying their time in some piece Of Huswifry, or at least some good Book.

Ever.

You and I shall never hit it, for now I Think those women who have been least Us'd to Liberty, most apt to abuse it, when They come to't.

Fore.

O this fine believing Gentleman, I should Laugh heartily to see him a Grand-father Without a Son-in-Law.

Enter to them Victoria and Olivia.

Vict.

Sir if you don't use the Coach your self, My Sister and I wou'd go abroad this Afternoon.

Ever.

Take it Children, but don't keep the Horses Out too late.

Fore.

What! never ask 'um whither they're Going? by your favour I'le put that Question To 'um; Come hither Victoria, what visits Do you intend this Afternoon?

Vict.

None Sir, we were only going a Rambling.

Fore.

A Rambling, methinks that word sounds Very prettily i'the mouth of a young Maid; Next time I ask 'um whither they're going, I believe they'I answer me, To drink A Bottle or two: but whither pray?

Olivia.

For that Sir we shall take counsel of the weather, Either up into the City, or towards the Park.

Fore.

What, none but you two?

Oliv.

We intended to call on my Cousins Althea and Diana.

Fore.

They took Physick this morning, and Are not well, you'l but lose your labour.

Vict.

Sir they sent for us but an hour ago.

Fore.

You had better go without 'um, they Are all undrest, to stay for 'um would But make you lose the sweet of the Evening.

Ever.

Brother, what are you jealous of them too? I assure you they are no men in womens Cloaths.

Fore.

I am not jealous of 'um, but since you'd Have it so, I'de as lieve they'd keep away.

Ever.

And I'de as lieve you'd keep away, till you Understand your self better; what? you Think your Daughters, like your Money, Never safe, but under Lock and Key; who Wou'd you have 'um converse with, if not With their Relations?

Fore.

With those that are a kin to 'um in manners And behaviour, such as they may learn Some goodness of; I see nothing they can Learn here but vanity.

Vict.

Sister they begin to be angry, come Let's leave 'um till the storm be over.

[Exeunt.

Fore.

What are they gone? I warrant If we had been reading a Play, or Romance, We shou'd not have been rid of 'um so Soon; but I'le spoil their sport at My House

Ever.

A precious Design, and worthy of your Gravity! But, if you do Brother, I'le tell. You one thing, you'l go near to spoil A match at cross purposes: farewel.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Modish his Chamber.

Enter Henry Modish and Ned Estridge.

Mod.

Good morrow, Ned, I thought I had left you Too deep engag'd last night to have been Here thus early.

Estr.

Why you sneak'd away just as the Sport Began, like a half-bred Cock that strikes A Stroke or two briskly, and then runs.

Mod.

Faith, I had so many Irons in the fire for To day, I durst not run the hazard of A disorder last night: but you know My Heart was with you.

Estr.

You wou'd not have repented it, if your Whole Body and Soul had been with us; Iack Wildish sent for a dozen more of Champaigne And a Brace of such Girls, as we shou'd have Made Honourable Love to, in any other Place; and Sir Iohn Everyoung was in the Pleasantest Humour, I'de give a piece I Cou'd repeat the Satyr he made of the Country.

Mod.

It wou'd be good News to his Daughters, For they say, now and then in a morning He is of another mind.

Estr.

That's only while his head akes, they need Not fear him; he swears hee'l n'er stir Beyond Hide-Park or Colebys at farthest, As long as he has an Acre left, they shall All come to him: 'tis a pleasant old Fellow, He has given me a hundred pounds for my Gray beard, and is to ride himself this day Month twice round the Park, against a bay Stone-horse of Wildishes, for two hundred more.

Mod.

Methought Wildish and you were very

Intimate, pray how long have you been Acquainted?

Estr.

Faith, about a week or so, times a thing only necessary For the Friendship of vulgar Spirits: O here comes The Gentleman we were speaking of; now Iack,

Enter Wildish.

What small Petticoat do you come from?

Wild.

E'ne such another as you are going to now With all this Bravery: those Cravats that design The Right Honourable, I'le lay a piece will be Rumpl'd by a worse Woman than they were Washt, yet afore night.

Mod.

Wou'd all the world were of his mind, we Young men shou'd pass our time well.

Wild.

O never the better for that; such Mounsieurs As you by your Feathers are known to be Birds Of prey, and though you catch nothing, you Scare all; Besides, every good man is not acquainted With this Principle among you, that you can be In Love with nothing but your selves, and may Be jealous of his Wife, when indeed you come Innocently to take a view of your persons from Head to feet in the great Glass; comb out your Periwig, shake your Garnitures, and be gone.

Estr.

What, dost think we have no other way Of Entertainment? No Discourse, Iack?

Wild.

Yes, a little now and then about their dress, Whether their Patches be too many or too few, Too great or too small, whether her Hankerchief Be Point de Venie or Rome; and having left behind You some proof of your ability in the Mode, Return to shew your selves at the last Act. Of a Play.

Mod.

I dare swear, Iack, thy Acquaintance puts Thee to none of these Critioisins, a plain Gorget. And a black Scarf are all their varieties; and Are you well Mistress? and what Company Have you kept lately? thy most familiar Questions. But Raillery apart. Say it were

A mans Fortune to prevail upon one of these Thou believest so impregnable Forts, and to be Receiv'd where never any but your self came So near as to be deny'd; were not that a Conquest?

Wild.

As great as that of a place not tenible Can be; the present Plunder indeed is somewhat, But upon the first Siege you must look to be Driven out: a Ladies heart is a kind of Fortification That is easier surpris'd by being well man'd, And makes ever the strongest resistance of it self.

Estr.

'Tis true, Modish, for I have still observ'd, That when one of these persons of Honour Does a little forget her self, though at first Through a secret Sympathy, and invincible Inclination (as they call it) for one particular Man, she ever after loves the whole Sex the Better for it.

Wild.

Right; for these good Creatures, Women, Are like Cats, if once made tame, any one May play with 'um; if not, there's no Coming near 'um.

Mod.

Thou think'st thou hast maul'd 'um now; Why I tell thee, Iack, a Hector is not readier To pick a Quarrel with a sawcy Creditor, And swear he will never pay the Rascal, Then a man is to have one with his Mistress Towards the latter end of an Amour; especially. If it amount to a handsom occasion of Leaving her, 'tis the kindest thing she can do Then: what think you, Estridge?

Estr.

Faith, I'm of your mind, yet I have known Some unconscionable Ladies make their Servants wait as long for a just Exception, And almost as impatiently, as they did for the First Favour.

Wild.

Favour and Exception, Gentlemen, are words I don't meet with in seven years, where

I go, my piece makes my Complement When I come in, and my Excuse when I Go away; and 'tis ever well taken too: I have all the day to bestow upon my business, The night upon my Friends, whilst you are Kissing the Cards at Ombre, or presenting Oranges at a Play-house.

Estr.

Thou never knew'st it seems what 'twas To be in Love then.

Wild.

No faith, I never let the Disease run on so far, I always took it in time, and then a Bottle Of Wine or two, and a she Friend is an approv'd Remedy; there are men in the world though, Who in that Distemper prescribe some Serious Employment, continual Exercise, Spare Diet, and the like; but they are Philosophers, And in my opinion make the Remedy worse then The Disease.

Estr.

I do confess your's is the pleasantest Cure, If it be one; but I doubt it only gives a little Ease for the present, and like small Beer in the Morning after a merry bout over night, Doth but make us the worse afterwards.

Mod.

I now, you talk to him of what he understands, What you do tell him of Love for? who by His own confession never knew what it was.

Wild.

No, but I guess this same Love you speak Of, Gentlemen, to be much like Longing in Women, a phantastical appetite to some one Thing above all others, which if they cannot Get, the Lover miscarries of his passion, And the Lady of her little one; or if they do, are Both quickly satisfi'd, and it becomes for Ever after very indifferent, if not loathsom.

Estr.

Well, Modish, I perceive we shall do no Good on him, let's take him to the Mulberry-Garden, and see what the Ladies can do.

Wild.

You shall excuse me, I have a small

Ramble of my own for an hour or two This Afternoon: and so your Servant.

[Exit.

Mod.

'Tis time we were going, I warrant they have walk'd every foot of The Garden, twice over by this time: They are mad to know, whether their Friends in Town have dealt faithfully With 'um of late, concerning the Mode.

Est.

These Country Ladys for the first month Take up their places in the Mulberry Garden, As early as a Citizens Wife at a new Play.

Mod.

And for the most part are as easily discover'd; They have always somewhat on, that is Just left off by the Better Sort.

Est.

They are the Antipodes of the Court; for When a Fashion sets there, it rises Among them.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Victoria and Olivia.

Vict.

Sister, whatever the 〈…〉〈…〉 We don't see half 〈…〉〈…〉 To meet here anights, 〈…〉〈…〉 In Town.

Oliv.

'Tis true, but 〈…〉〈…〉 Walk at home 〈…〉〈…〉 Half a score young 〈…〉〈…〉 Well drest, are a greater 〈…〉〈…〉 A Garden, than a Wildernes•• 〈…〉〈…〉 Orange, a Lemmon 〈…〉〈…〉 Of rich Vests and Silk 〈…〉〈…〉 Musick than the purling 〈…〉〈…〉 Chirping of Birds, or any of our Country Entertainments: and that 〈…〉〈…〉 Will afford us yet, 〈…〉〈…〉 Ar•• done.

Vict.

Sister, what wou'd you give to see Estridge come in now?

Oliv.

'Tis impossible, he wou'd not miss his Devotion to the Park, for all I could give, Such an Evening as this: besides the two Garnitures he brought out of France are Soil'd, his Feather broke, and he has been So out of humour these two days, there's No enduring him; he lost his Money too Last night I hear; and losing Gamesters Are but ill company.

Vict.

Fye Sister, you make him a saver with A look; and Fine, in but thinking he is so▪ You deserve not so compleat a Servant, But I hope you'le be as obliging to His face, as you are severe to him Behind his back.

Oliv.

The only way to oblige most men Is to use 'um thus, a little 〈…〉〈…〉 Even to their faces, it gives 'um an Opinion of our wit; 〈…〉〈…〉 A Spur to theirs: the great pleasure Of Gaming were 〈…〉〈…〉 Anothers hands; and 〈…〉〈…〉 Anothers Hearts: there 〈…〉〈…〉 For good Play in the One, nor for Address In the Other 〈…〉〈…〉 Of both. But what would you 〈…〉〈…〉

Vict.

To see Horatio, 〈…〉〈…〉 I would all others happiness 〈…〉〈…〉 But he is now anothers▪ and 〈…〉〈…〉 Is not to nourish, 〈…〉〈…〉 I dare not hope my Capti•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 So many Charms contribute to 〈…〉〈…〉 Althea's Slave, let false 〈…〉〈…〉 Whilst I for freedom, 〈…〉〈…〉

Oliv.

Fye Sister, leave this 〈…〉〈…〉

Enter to them Estridge and Modish.

Estr.

Ladys, it is our wonder to find any body Here at this time of Day, and no less our Happiness to meet with you; all the world Is at the Park, where we had been our Selves, but that we saw your Livery At the Gate.

Vict.

I pray let us not keep you here Gentlemen, Your Mistresses will curse us, and your Selves too, by and by, if the Garden shou'd Not fill.

Est.

If we wish any company, Ladies, 'tis for Your sakes, not our own.

Mod.

For my part I wou'd ne're desire a Garden fuller than this is now; we Are two to two, and may be hand to Hand when you please.

Oliv.

I don't know what you think ▪ but in My mind the More the Merrler, especially In these places.

Est.

I, for show, Madam, but it happens in Great Companys, as at Feast, we see •• Great deal, and fall to heartly of nothing, And for the most part rise hungry: and 'tis With Lovers, Madam, as with great Bellied Women, if they find what they Long for, they care not whether there Be any thing else or no.

Vict.

What in love 〈…〉〈…〉 This place is a gret softner of mens hearts.

Mod.

How can it chuse, having so many Lovers sighs daily mixt 〈…〉〈…〉 A much better quality 〈…〉〈…〉 It could incline Ladies to believe, and look With pity on those flames they 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Oliv.

'Tis too early to 〈…〉〈…〉 Flames and Pity wou'd 〈…〉〈…〉 In the Evening.

Mod.

'Tis not with love, Madam, as with meaner Arguments; I might entertain you with My passion for an age, and yet have as Much left for anon, as if I had not Spoke one word; the Sea is easier emptied Then a Lovers breast.

Oliv.

What say you, Sir, is this your opinion too?

Est.

Yes faith, Madam, and I think a Lover can No more say at once, what he hath to Say to his Mistress, than a man can eat At once for his whole life time▪

Oliv.

Nay, if it be so endless, I should beg of My Servant, when ever I have one, E'ne to keep it to himself for altogether.

Est.

There you betray your ignorance, With your pardon, Madam; to see the Fair Olivia, and not love her, is not More impossible, than to love her, and not Tell her on't. Silent Lovers you may read Of, and in Romances too, but Heavens Forbid you shou'd e're meet with any.

Oliv.

If they knew how little they were like To get by being otherwise, I'm confident I shou'd meet with none else.

Est.

Well, Madam, I perceive Love, like Wine, Makes our Discourse seem extravagant To those that are not wound up to The same height: But had you any spark Of what I feel, I should have had Another Answer.

Oliv.

Why, what Answer,

Est.

Nay, I know not, but some pretty one, That love wou'd have devis'd for you; No more to be imagin'd by you ••ow, Than what you shall talk of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 In your sleep. 〈…〉〈…〉 Will you do us the honour to eat 〈◊〉〈◊〉?

Oliv.

Sister, let's go, so they'l promise to say

Nothing but what they think to us when We are there.

Mod.

You may do what you please, Ned, but 'tis A liberty I dare not use my self to, for Fear of an ill habit.

Estr.

You are very confident of our good opinion; Ladies; I believe there are few women In Town wou'd accept of our Company On these terms.

Vict.

Faith, Sister, let's bate um that circu•••••••• Truth is a thing meerly necessary for witnesse••▪ And Historians, and in these places doth out Curb invention, and spoil good Company; We will only confine 'um to what's Probable.

Mod.

Content, and I dare swear 'twill be better For all Parties.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Sir Samuel Forecasts House.

Enter Alth•••• and Diana.

Diana.

We two, or none, may of our Stars complain, Who afford us nothing to share but pain; Each bears her own, and th' others portion too; This cruel wonder can high friendship do.

Alth.

To us how 〈…〉〈…〉 Since both had had what they on each bestow'd! But yet thy loss I rate 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thy own▪ Fate on thy Love till now did never frown▪ Philander thee above the world did prize, Thy Parents saw him almost with thy Eyes: 〈…〉〈…〉

This hour that promis'd all, can nothing pay, And Hymen steals his lighted Torch away.

Dian.

Ah, dear Althea▪ let not thou and I Contend who most exceeds in misery; It is a dismal strife, since were my own Less, I'de share thine till they were equal grown. Curse on Ambition, why shou'd Honour take A present back agen, that Love did make? On thee Eugenio did his Life bestow, To me Phila•••• his Service vow; Yet both for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have those ties despis'd, And now are 〈◊〉〈◊〉 must be sacrific'd. Unkind Philan••••, had Love fill'd thy brest With half those flames thou hast so oft exprest, They had consumed in their purer fires All other thoughts, and thou wou'dst never mind, Who were for Kings, and who for Slaves design'd.

Alth.

The noble sense they show of the sad Fate Of their dear Country, sets a higher rate Upon their Love; for who that had a grain Of Honour in him, cou'd endure the Reign Of proud Usurpers, whose 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will, Is all the Law by which men spare or kill; And his true Prince in Banishment behold, Worthy of more than Fortune can with-hold; These monstrous with the crimes of prosperous Fate, The other shining in his adverse State, So that each stroke of Fortune does but seem A step for his Heroick mind to climb, Till he has got above her reach, and then The Vertue she has try'd she I love agen•• Though I must truly mouth their ill success, I cou'd not wish Eugenio had done less.

Dian.

Had their high Vertue the least doubt endur'd, Even with their death it had been cheaply cur'd: But this brave Act is but to me and you, A dangerous proof of what before we knew.

Alth.

Though their true worth to us before were clear,

This Act has made it to the world appear; None ever with that obstinacy lov'd, But they were pleas'd to see their choice approv'd: No joy compleat to worthy minds can seem, Which is not height'ned by the worlds esteem.

Dian.

My heart, Althea, does less grieve it has Ventur'd it's treasure in so lov'd a cause, Then that Philander did not let me know The danger he was like to undergo.

Alth.

Sister, though Laws of Decency 〈◊〉〈◊〉 We shining Swords and glittering Armour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Yet a decision of what's right or wrong, As well as mens, does to our minds belong; And we best show it when we most approve Those men that fight in Quarrels which we love: Though they of Courage have the ruder part, The Vertue may become a womans heart, Though not 〈…〉〈…〉 Expose her Love, sure for her 〈…〉〈…〉 I knew Eugenio must that 〈…〉〈…〉, Nor could consent he should the danger shun; And had Philander 〈…〉〈…〉 He without 〈…〉〈…〉

Dian.

I must confess 〈…〉〈…〉 That he agen shou'd 〈…〉〈…〉 Let me the greatness of your mind admire, Whilst I deplore the greatness of my 〈◊〉〈◊〉, A fire which lends 〈…〉〈…〉 To shew how much what I 〈…〉〈…〉 How much he hazards 〈…〉〈…〉 From vent'ring him 〈…〉〈…〉 Whose danger had known, my Eyes, alas! Had wept a Sea, he wou'd have fear'd to pass; But we so long of 〈…〉〈…〉 As if no further mischief did remain, 〈…〉〈…〉 And all the Arrows from her Quiver sent.

Alth.

When Fate wou'd harm where Vertue does protect,

She does her guilt and impoten••e detect; She can but rob the Vertuous of that rest, She must restore, again with interest And all the danger of these Heroes past, Must needs consider their high worth at last.

Dian.

What we ••••••ire, how fain we wou'd believe, And wish that Fortune knew not to deceive? But she profusely to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 presents makes, And as unju•••••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 some others takes. I fear she's 〈…〉〈…〉 worth in debt, She'l 〈…〉〈…〉 use the whole's too great: Like 〈…〉〈…〉 her Bounties still appear, Who give 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that they from many tear.

Alth.

In the mean time I fear our cruel friends Will not consult our liking, but their ends; I know they'l press I should Horatio wed, And promise thee unto some Strangers bed.

Dian.

They may such Matches as they please provide, But here I vow, I'le never he, a Brid•• To any but Philander; in that Heart He taught to love, none else shall have apart.

Alth.

I the like Vow to my 〈…〉〈…〉 Which Fates worst malice 〈…〉〈…〉 As Trees expos'd to Storms 〈…〉〈…〉 Than those that do in peaceful 〈…〉〈…〉 So in all Noble minds, a virtuous Love By opposition does the firmer prove

Dian.

'Tis fit, Althes, I now take my leave, Whilst you prepare H••ratio to receive,

Alth.

Farewel, Diana, and be sure you do Nothing unworthy of your Love and Vow.

Exeunt Diana and 〈…〉〈…〉