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 V.

SCENE I.

Enter Philander Solus.

Phil.

'TIs strange I nothing of Eugenio hear, So long an absence may be worth a fear: His friendship was not wont to hide from me Of his most secret thoughts the new Decree. I doubt his Love impatient of delay, Has to Althea found some desperate way, His passion cou'd not my slow cure attend, On which, alas, he did in vain depend. I was to blame, no sooner to provide Against deluded hope's unruly tide; Which now I fear has born him on a shelf, Where he'll unkindly perish by himself.

Enter Diana in Man's Cloaths.

Ha! a strange face! wou'd I had not been seen; But 'tis too good for Treason to lurk in.

Sure Gentle youth the place you have mistook, I cannot be the man for whom you look.

Dian.

Philander in your troubled face I read Some apprehensions that you are betray'd: But when you shall my woful story hear, A Juster sorrow will remove your fear.

Phil.

Thou hast my name, and yet I know thee not, Quickly unty sweet youth this painful knot.

Dian.

Know you this hand?

Phil.

Alas it is my own, This from Eugenio cou'd be had or none: Speak, is he dead? is this his Legacy? And has he sent it, gentle youth, by thee? Has he Horatio fought? killing, or slain, He almost equally wou'd breed my pain.

Dian.

He and Horatio fought, but on a side.

Phil.

What wonder beyond this can Fate provide. I knew, Eugenio, thou we••t always brave, And that thy Love was still thy Honour•• slave.

Dian.

On your friends part you have the vertue brought, But 'twas Horatio for Eugenio fought.

Phil.

Such a prodigious union cou'd not fail.

Dian.

A Band of Souldiers did o're both prevail.

Phil.

Is my unhappy friend a Prisoner made?

Dian.

He is, and close in the White Tower laid: He bad me tell you so, that you might shun The desperate hazard that his life must run.

Phil.

How came he, gentle youth, thus to expose My life to one whom he so little knows?

Dian.

I am his near Relation, and have been Privy to all Designs he has been in. He bids you to remove without delay, For y'are endanger'd hourly by your stay: The Souldiers about him a Paper took, Which, though obscurely, of your Lodging spoke.

Phil.

In vain we to that wretch good counsel give, Resolv'd to perish, and unfit to live: When he is gone, what business have I here?

What can again be worth a hope or fear? The hour he dyes this shall be my relief,

pointing to his Sword.

If I cou'd need another wound than grief.

Dian.

How can you hope to please Eugenio's Ghost, In killing him whom he esteems the most? In life our friends we chuse, but those we hate We rather wish Companions of our Fate: If I a present to his shade wou'd send, It shou'd be of his Foe, and not his Friend. But yet I hope Eugenio may escape; Safety has come in an unlookt for shape.

Phil.

That hope alone makes me consent to live.

Dian.

Can you for life no other reason give▪

Phil.

None that, alas! is fit for thee to hear.

Dian.

Does then Diana's heart so vile appear?

Phil.

I hope thou wilt my better Genius prove, Since thus thou know'st my business and my love.

Dian.

She tells me you have often fill'd her Ears With gentle words, and wet her arms with tears; Vow'd that your hope and fear, grief, and delight, Her frowns or favours only cou'd excite.

Phil.

Why so I did, sweet youth, and told her true, But I'm amaz'd it shou'd be known by you.

Dian.

Of late she has worn a face of discontent, That seem'd neglected friendship to lament: Eugenio. to her Sister found a way, Though various hazards in his passage lay.

Phil.

Unwisely he the short-liv'd pleasure sought, Too soon 'twas paid for, and too dearly bought▪ Like Orpheus for one poor untimely look, He has the hope of all he lov'd forsook.

Dian.

That haste exprest a passion, though to blame: Impatience is of love the best extream.

Phil.

That Heir's accurs'd, that for a present sum Resigns the hope of all he has to come. I would Diana to the world prefer, And for her venture any thing but her. But, gentle youth, methinks thou speak'st as though

Thou mad'st a doubt, whether I lov'd or no.

Dian.

Pray Heaven Diana mayn't: your fault was great, To think of Honour when the day was set For Hymens Rites; when nought else could destroy Your hopes, which then were ripening into joy, You were a Traytor to the State declar'd, And in the glittering toyls of Fate ensnar'd.

Phil.

Be witness Heaven, and all ye Powers above, That see our infant passions weakly move, E're they have force into the face to climb, Or to one action can our wills encline, If ever, for one moment, in my breast I gave to any (she inspir'd not) rest.

Dian.

Why did you then such daring projects frame, And danger court that not concern'd your flame?

Phil.

'Tis true, before I knew Diana's charms, I courted Fame in danger and in Arms, And thought no Cause cou'd lasting glory bring, Like the just quarrel of our injur'd King. Eugenio's friendship too that Fire improv'd, And made me wed that Cause I ever lov'd: What since I did was on a former score, My Fate she can't condemn, but must deplore. I was in honour pre-engag'd too far, E're to retire, and yet to merit her. But whence could'st thou this hated knowledge gain? He worse than kills, who makes me live in pain: Thy Beauty, Youth, and Words do all perswade, Thou happy in her neerest trust art made.

Diana here drops a Ring, pulling out a Handkerchief.

Ye Gods! the Ring I to Diana sent! Do not frail man beyond his Nature tempt. The good thou hast done, I thus forget it all, And let my vengeance on my Rival fall.

[He draws.

Draw, or I'le leave thee dead upon the ground.

She pulls off her Perriwig.

Dian.

I dare not draw—and sure you dare not wound.

Phil.

With sudden light I for a while am blind, I sought a Rival, and a Mistress find; Where I thought all my rage, my love is due, So high a pitch my wishes never flew; I am not by degrees to pleasure led, Nor slowly made the doubtful steps to tread, But in an instant, my exalted mind Feels all her hopes set free, and fears confin'd: So Kings in Battels that they gave for gone, Redeem their own and win another Crown.

Dian.

That Faith, which nothing shou'd in question bring, From a few words you doubt, and from a Ring: How can I hope a lasting friendship, where So light appearance brings so mean a fear?

Phil.

Such a surprize a jealous pang might give To any breast where so much love does live. But why, Diana, in this strange disguise? Was it to make me happier by surprise?

Dian.

Cou'd I my fear, as well as love o'recome, You'd been preserv'd, and never known by whom; Such a concern I wou'd not have betray'd, Till I were surer of your passion made.

Phil.

What accident ill understood, cou'd prove Of that dire force to make you doubt my love? You needs must know how we were all betray'd, And the hard scape I and Eugenio made; And since, it had been fatal to be seen, So that this Chamber my whole world has been.

Dian.

What made me doubt, it matters not to know, Let it suffice I do no longer so. The dreadful Sword, which at my breast you held, Though with much fear, I with more joy beheld: For he that truly does his Rival hate, Declares he loves his Mistress at that rate.

Phil.

Look on thy self, and measure thence my love, Think what a flame so bright a form must move: That Knot be confident will ever last, Which Passion ty'd, and Reason has made fast.

Dian.

Farewel, Philander, think on what I've said, And kindly judge the weakness of a Maid.

Phil.

Thou art too cruel in so short a stay; Thus would I gaze my very sight away.

Dian.

Though for your safety nothing was too dear, Now give me leave for my own self to fear.

[Ex. Diana

Phil.

She has appear'd like Lightning to my sight, Which when 'tis vanisht, leaves a darker night.

[Exit Philander.

Enter. Estridge and Modish.

Estr.

'Twas certainly that Rogue Wildish that betray'd Us; the Arbour and Bottle of Wine, were his motions.

Mod.

Without all peradventure, you saw the Ladies, when they threw us off, took him home With 'um, nothing could be plainer—what think You if one of us fought him?

Estr.

Why, faith I think we had e'en as good let That alone; hang him, he'll fight; 'twas only A trick he put upon us, and let's rall it off, And serve him in his own kind.

Mod.

As how?

Estr.

Do you remember a certain Cousin of his That Everyoung carry'd us to, the Widow of A rich Alderman, who dy'd suddenly, and left her All he had? this Widow he intends for Sir Samuel Forecast, and I make no question but he is to have A round Sum for his good word. What think you now, if I order it, that one Of us marry this Widow, then I hope We are sufficiently reveng'd?

Mod.

But how is't possible?

Estr.

Nothing so easie: her Maid has promis'd me To perswade her to take a walk in the Mulberry▪ Garden; this is a time there is little or no Company there, 'tis but waiting at the door With a trusty 〈…〉〈…〉 Force her whither 〈…〉〈…〉 Her own accord she'll 〈…〉〈…〉

Mod.

Why so?

Estr.

If for no other, for the same reason that th•••• Eat Horse-flesh in a Siege; because she can come At nothing else.

Mod.

If it were a foolish Girl, we might do Somewhat with her indeed; but these Widows Are like old Birds not to be tam'd she'll fight and Scratch, and fly about, there will be no enduring her.

Estr.

Fear nothing: when she considers she has no Other way to save her Reputation, she'll hear reason.

Mod.

Well; but being equal Adventurers, how Shall we agree about the Prize?

Estr.

He that marries her, shall give the other a Statute upon his Estate, for two thousand Pounds, a pretty good Sum, and will serve to stop a gap.

Mod.

Content, and I wish thee joy of her With all my heart.

Estr.

You shall find me as good a Pay-master As her Husband the old Alderman wou'd Have been: but stand close, here she comes.

Enter the Widow and her Maid, they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 'um.

Wid.

Thieves, Murderers, Villains what do you mean?

Estr.

Nothing, nothing, but lie make bold to stop That pretty mouth of thine, Widow, for once.

They carry 'um off.

Mod.

Whither shall we carry 'um?

Estr.

To a little house I have taken a quarter of A mile off for that purpose, where no body Could hear 'um, though they had Falconers Or Huntsmens voices.

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir. John Everyoung, and Sir Samuel Forecast.

Ever.

Give you joy, Brother, give you joy.

Fore.

Of what?

Ever.

Why, of your Lieutenancy, of the Tower Know you can be here upon no other 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Indeed your fidelity to the 〈…〉〈…〉

Fore.

Sir, give you joy of your new suit, and Fair Perriwig there.

Ever.

Faith, Brother, it site with no Fortune To day, what are's the matter, I was never Worse put together in all my life, and but to Congratulate your advancement, wou'd not Have left the Company I din'd with.

Fore.

I hope to return your kind Visit in the Fleet, And see your Daughters sell Ale and Cakes there, And your Worship with ••ewer Trappings on; For thither your extravagant Courses point.

Ever.

May my Petriwig never know a good day, Nor be taken for my own half again, But come off always with my Hat, if it Cost me above twelve pounds.

Fore.

Pox on your Hat, and your Perriwig, can you Tell how I shall get out?

Ever.

No more then how you got in; but you are Wise, and know business: alas, I know nothing But how to sort Ribands, make Horse-matches, Throw away my money at Dice, and keep my Self out of the Tower.

Fore.

O my ungracious Girls!

Ever.

What of them? have they broke prison, And taken Sanctuary in the Arms of some sturdy Prentice, Fencing-master, Brother of the Blade, Or any other inferior Rascat? you were So strict to 'um, I never look'd for other.

Fore.

Not so fast; but if you can be serious for A minute, do: they are vertuous, but Eugenio A former Servant to Althea, since declar'd A Traytor to the State, was taken in my house; I suspected to have been privy to his being There, and so carried along with him hither: I protested my Innocence to the Officers, urg'd My former Service, but all would nor do.

Ever.

S'light of hope you had more wit, this is The happiest accident that ever 〈…〉〈…〉

For an old notorious, Round-head to be taken For a Cavalier at this time; why I never Thought it had been in you, this was a Stratagem Might have become Machewile himself▪

Fore.

Why, what's the matter? all's well I hope.

Ever.

Yes, never better, the General has this day to Some persons of quality declar'd for the King; All Cavaliers are immediately to have their Liberty; therefore make haste to reconcile With Eugenio and Philander: I have an order For the delivery of all such Prisoners as are Here upon the account of Loyalty to their Prince.

Fore.

Philander and Eugenio, on my Daughters Account, will do me all the service they can, and I Hope to make some advantage of this imprisonment,

Ever.

I'le go and release Eugenio, and bring him To you; Horatio is discharg'd already: though, We fall out now and then about trifles, we are Brothers, and ought to serve one another In matters of concern.

[Exeunt.

Enter. Victoria, Olivia, and Wildish.

Wild.

You see now, Ladies, what Fellows you cast Your good opinions on: if I said any thing That was disrespectful to either of you, It ought to go for nothing, I was meerly Your decoy in the business.

Oliv.

We are very well satisfi'd on all hands.

Vict.

Sure they'l never have the impudence To trouble us agen.

Oliv.

Now wou'd I were married to Estridge, That I might plague him soundly.

Wild.

How can you make that a Plague, Madam?

Oliv.

A hundred ways: I wou'd never come Home till three a clock in the morning; Tumble my own Handkercher my self, to make Him jealous; break his soundest sleeps in Commendation of his bosom-friend, and neve•• Leave till I have made 'um quarrel; fold up

All manner of Papers, like Love-Letters, And burn 'um just as he comes into th' Room.

Wild.

I can tell you how to be reveng'd on him Beyond all this.

Oliv.

Prithee how, Wildish?

Wild.

Why, marry me, make a good Wife to me, And let him hang himself for rage.

Oliv.

I am not so inveterate an Enemy, I'le forgive Him rather: if I were your Wife, I must board Half a year with a Friend in the Country, tumble About the other half in most villainous Hackneys, Lye two pair of Stairs high, and wear black Farrendine the whole year about; see you when You had no Money to play, and then be kist out Of a Ring or a Bracelet.

Wild.

I wou'd not use a City Widow of five and fifty so, With seven small Children: and am I to suffer Nothing all this while?

Oliv.

What can you suffer?

Wild.

Why, the loss of that which is dearer than life, My liberty; be known for a marry'd man, and so Put my self out of all capacity, of breaking Gold, Promising marriage, or any other way of Ensuring my self to scrupulous young Virgins I shall like hereafter.

Oliv.

That is to be taken from the occasion of Playing the Rascal: is that all?

Wild.

Not half; if I make but love to a Chamber-maid, I shall be answer'd, you have a sweet Lady of your Own, and why will you wrong her? if I get Acquainted with any young woman, after the fourth Or fifth visit, be look'd upon by her Father and Mother, Worse than the Tax-Gatherers in a Country Village; All this you count nothing.

Oliv.

Not to a Lover, Wildish,

Wild.

Well, there is no service so desperate, That a gallant man will shrink at, if he like His reward; and to give his hand thus to a woman,

In him that rightly understands what he does, Is as bold an action as Mutius 〈◊〉〈◊〉: yet That I may use it hereafter where and when I please, Upon my dear Olivia I'le venture it.

Oliv.

Softly, when you please, and where I please.

Wild.

Content Madam: will you do us the favour to Be a Witness?

Vict.

Well Mr. Wildish I'le dance bare-foot To serve you.

Wildish leads off Olivia.

Oliv.

Hold, hold Wildish, my heart fails me.

Mild.

Slight, I had a qualm too, there's certainly A more than ordinary providence attends me; I shall scape yet, I am now in a twitter, Like a Gamester upon a great by, that is Heartily afraid he shall lose it, and yet his Love to the money won't suffer him to draw Stakes. I must have her.

Vict.

Nay, now you are come thus far, e'••e go on,

Oliv.

Well, Wildish, give me thy hand; the first Time thou anger'st me, I'le have a Gallant; And the next, make thee a Cuckold.

[Extunt.

Enter. Horatio and Althea.

Hora.

Madam, you know your Father does command. That you shou'd shortly give me your fair hand Before a Priest; but since find no part Goes along with it of your generous heart, My mind the charming present can refuse, Fearing t'indulge a passion you accuse; My joy with your least trouble weigh'd must still Appear, to my own self the greater ill.

Alth.

Such words as these, Horatio, but heap more Upon a debt that was too great before; I'm cover'd with confusion when I weigh How much I owe, how little I can pay: You may with ease a fairer Mistress find, And with more ease such worth will make her kind; And if I e're that happy Virgin know, I'le sue to make her pay you what I owe.

Hora.

To change your thoughts, I will no longer try, But with the stream I cannot turn, comply I to Victoria will my suit renew, And hope to find an Advocate in you.

Alth.

You may command me, and Victoria's mind Is of it self to you too well inclin'd.

Hora.

All this methinks shou'd your belief perswade, I no contrivance with those Villains had, To take my Rival in so mean a way, But only came their sudden rage to stay: All that confusion, and surprize cou'd do, My passion made me apprehend for you.

Alth.

Horatio's Honour does too brightly shine, To be accus'd of such a low design; Had you within the bounds of friendship staid, Your self and me you had both happy made.

Hora.

With ease from friendship we to love are led, That slipery path who can securely tread?

Enter Sir. Samuel Forecast, Sir John Everyoung, and Eugenio.

Alth.

I see my Father, and Eugenio here, And in all faces sudden joys appear.

Forecast, Everyoung, and Horatio seem to discourse.

Euge.

Fortune, I pardon thee thy short-liv'd spite, I for thy constant temper took a fit, Th'art kind, and gentle, and 'tis we are blind, Who do mistrust the ways thou hast design'd To make us blest, though better than our own.

Alth.

Can you have joy, and yet Althea none▪

Euge.

May I all misery first undergo, E're joy divided from Althea know.

Alth.

What is this wonder hangs upon thy tongue Delay does only to ill news belong.

Euge.

Madam, your Father licenses my flame, And you alone can now oppose my claim; That Cause which Armys did in vain support, And noblest spirits did, successless, court We in a bloodless triumph shining see, Without the dire effects of Victory.

For in the Generals breast (the noblest Scene) The Fate of England has transacted been: On Albion's Throne he will our Monarch place, Our Neighbours terrour, and our Nations grace, Whilst at his blest approach, all factious minds Vanish, like leaves before Autumnal Winds.

Alth.

Such truth in love and loyalty y'ave shown, What less for both cou'd by just Heaven be done?

Euge.

This happiness, though great, yet is not all, My dearest friend I soon shall Brother call; Diana must his deathless Flame repay.

Alth.

Fate, to be pardon'd, had no other way.

Euge.

See how your Father kindly strives to evade His former promise to Horatio made.

Alth.

That work's so nobly in his breast begun, That a few words will finish what's undone: Horatio. does all happiness despise, From my obedience, which my love denies.

Forecast to Eugenio.

Fore.

Horatio has releas'd me of my promise to him, And seeing your changeless love to one another, Was resolv'd to have mov'd it to me, if I had Not prevented him.

Euge.

Such honour, noble youth, I must confess, Gives wonder equal to my happiness.

Hora.

Althea. I resign, my guilty flame Was too unjust to reach so fair an aim: Victoria's. wrongs did my success oppose, And my lost passion its own penance grows. So some Offenders are their duty taught By th'ill effect and nature of their fault.

Eug.

My apprehensions by these words are clear'd. And I dare love that Virtue which I fear'd. In love alone this mystery we find, Men best agree when of a different mind.

Hor.

There now remains but one thing more to do, 'Tis that Philander may be sent for too. But see he comes.

[Enter Philander.

Fore.

Brother, if your Daughter were here, we Might have a Dance. Sir, you are heartily welcome, I kept my Girl Safe for you, she has not been so much as blown Upon since you saw her; I knew honest men Wou'd not be always kept from their own, There wou'd come a time.

Phil.

Sir, I was ever most oblig'd to you— Eugenio here! then I am doubly blest, And only fear to be with joy opprest.

Euge.

The joys of Friendship well prepare our mind For the high raptures we in love shall find: The name of Brothers we shall soon obtain.

Phil.

Friendship so perfect by no name can gain.

Enter Diana.

Fate is at length asham'd, or weary grown Upon a Flame you smil'd so long, to frown; As Vessels tost upon the raging Main, With greater joy the wisht-for Port obtain; Our love this short, fierce tempest having past, Will joys more high, since less expected, tast.

Dian.

But in the Storm did you throw nothing out?

Phil.

Wrong not my love with so unkind a doubt.

Enter Ever. Vict. Oliv. Wild.

Ever.

Wildish, thou'rt an honest fellow, I'm glad I found thee.

Wild.

Sir, the honest fellow desires to be known to You by another name, having newly marry'd your Daughter Olivia.

Ever.

When, pray Mr. Wildish?

Wild.

Just now, Sir, the words are scarce out of our Mouths.

Ever.

Well, this is a day I could not have been angry If thou hadst got her with Child upon a Contract; But you might have ask'd my leave, e're you Went about to make me a Grandfather.

Wild.

If I had had a good Jointure to offer, so I Wou'd, but if I do make you a Grandfather, 'Tis not done maliciously, I'le swear.

Hora.

My guilty Cause my self I dare not plead, But beg your innocence will intercede: Since all my fault your matchless beauty made, Your goodness now shou'd my excuse perswade.

Alth.

I in Victoria will my int'rest try, You, and me both, she hardly shall deny.

Hora.

Victoria's. mind I cannot hope to move, Unless a Parents power assist my love; Her duty will not your commands withstand, She'll take a worthless Servant from your hand.

Ever.

I'm sure she can have no exception to so Deserving a person as Horatio; Lovers, like Spaniels, do But show their mettal in a little ranging: though you Had a twittering to Althea, you'le make ne're the Worse Husband to Victoria. Victoria!

Vict.

Sir, what's your pleasure?

Ever.

That which will prove yours in the end: I Charge you upon my blessing, give Horatio your Hand, go and be marry'd with your Cousins, And make but one work of it.

Vict.

Sir, I am all obedience: who e're strove At once against her duty, and her lover.

Wild.

But Estridge, what fine Lady have you got there

Estr.

A certain Widow which I have cast my Self away upon: a Kinswoman of yours, Wildish, That you formerly design'd for the Right Worshipful Sir, Formal there: do you know her now?— Sir we made bold with her without your consent.

Wild.

Old acquaintance, I saith, how is't? I have made As bold, and been as welcome too, as e're you'le be Sir: but why did you steal a marriage thus?

Wid.

You know I always lov'd stoln pleasures, but This marriage stole me; your old Knight was Uncertain, came on by inches, this Gentleman Leapt into the matter, forc'd me into a Coach, and Marry'd me in an instant: I cou'd have been Content to have been a Lady, that I might have Taken place of my Mistress when she comes to Town. But a Bird in the hand—.

Estr.

Why, have you a Mistress?

Wid.

As sure as you have had a hundred, And now have a Wife.

Mod.

I doubt as things go, I shall scarce find you As good a Pay-master as the old Alderman.

Estridge pulls his hand from her, and looks angry.

Wild.

Nay, never use her ill now, 'twas none of her Fault, she is a very good Creature, and one That I plac't to personate my Cousin, on purpose To catch Sir Samuel Forecast; you know he Took the forfeiture of a Mortgage that concern'd A very good Friend of mine, and I was resolv'd to Be reveng'd of him; if you will needs run your Head into the Noose that's prepar'd for another, Who can help it? my Cousin is married in Ireland, Whither she went last Summer to look after Some money, due to her last Husband.

Wid.

I am her House-keeper though, and can bid You welcome till she returns.

Oliv.

A pretty pert thing, I like her humour, she Carries it off well: but Wildish, you shall visit Her no more now we are married.

Wild Fear not, Estridge will take order for that. Horatio to Victoria.

Hora.

How I do hate my self! that could so long At once such Beauty and such Goodness wrong.

Vict.

My kindness has forgot you were to blame, You guilt consum'd in your reviving flame.

Ever.

Now you are all pair'd, let's have a Dance.

After the Dance, a great shout within.

Euge.

I hear the peoples voice in joyful crys, Like conquering Troops o're flying Enemies; They seem to teach us in a ruder way The Honour due to this all-healing day.

Phil.

Let's part a while, and vye who shall express The highest sense of this great happiness.