Buch lesen: «The Constant Couple; Or, A Trip to the Jubilee: A Comedy, in Five Acts», Seite 2

SCENE II

Lady Lurewell's Lodgings

Enter Lady Lurewell, and her Maid Parly

Lady L. Parly, my pocket-book – let me see – Madrid, Paris, Venice, London! – Ay, London! They may talk what they will of the hot countries, but I find love most fruitful under this climate – In a month's space have I gained – let me see, imprimis, Colonel Standard.

Parly. And how will your ladyship manage him?

Lady L. As all soldiers should be managed; he shall serve me till I gain my ends, then I'll disband him.

Parly. But he loves you, madam.

 
Lady L. Therefore I scorn him;
I hate all that don't love me, and slight all that do;
'Would his whole deluding sex admir'd me,
Thus would I slight them all.
My virgin and unwary innocence
Was wrong'd by faithless man;
But now, glance eyes, plot brain, dissemble face,
Lie tongue, and
Plague the treacherous kind. —
Let me survey my captives. —
The colonel leads the van; next, Mr. Vizard,
He courts me out of the "Practice of Piety,"
Therefore is a hypocrite;
Then Clincher, he adores me with orangerie,
And is consequently a fool;
Then my old merchant, Alderman Smuggler,
He's a compound of both; – out of which medley of lovers, if I don't make good diversion – What d'ye think, Parly?
 

Parly. I think, madam, I'm like to be very virtuous in your service, if you teach me all those tricks that you use to your lovers.

Lady L. You're a fool, child; observe this, that though a woman swear, forswear, lie, dissemble, backbite, be proud, vain, malicious, any thing, if she secures the main chance, she's still virtuous; that's a maxim.

Parly. I can't be persuaded, though, madam, but that you really loved Sir Harry Wildair in Paris.

Lady L. Of all the lovers I ever had, he was my greatest plague, for I could never make him uneasy: I left him involved in a duel upon my account: I long to know whether the fop be killed or not.

Enter Colonel Standard

Oh lord! no sooner talk of killing, but the soldier is conjured up. You're upon hard duty, colonel, to serve your king, your country, and a mistress too.

Colonel S. The latter, I must confess, is the hardest; for in war, madam, we can be relieved in our duty; but in love, he, who would take our post, is our enemy; emulation in glory is transporting, but rivals here intolerable.

Lady L. Those that bear away the prize in arms, should boast the same success in love; and, I think, considering the weakness of our sex, we should make those our companions who can be our champions.

Colonel S. I once, madam, hoped the honour of defending you from all injuries, through a title to your lovely person; but now my love must attend my fortune. My commission, madam, was my passport to the fair; adding a nobleness to my passion, it stamped a value on my love; 'twas once the life of honour, but now its winding sheet; and with it must my love be buried.

Parly. What? disbanded, Colonel?

Colonel S. Yes, Mrs. Parly.

Parly. Faugh, the nauseous fellow! he stinks of poverty already. [Aside.

Lady L. His misfortune troubles me, because it may prevent my designs. [Aside.

Colonel S. I'll chuse, madam, rather to destroy my passion by absence abroad, than have it starved at home.

Lady L. I'm sorry, sir, you have so mean an opinion of my affection, as to imagine it founded upon your fortune. And, to convince you of your mistake, here I vow, by all that's sacred, I own the same affection now as before. Let it suffice, my fortune is considerable.

Colonel S. No, madam, no; I'll never be a charge to her I love! The man, that sells himself for gold, is the worst of prostitutes.

Lady L. Now, were he any other creature but a man, I could love him. [Aside.

Colonel S. This only last request I make, that no title recommend a fool, no office introduce a knave, nor red coat a coward, to my place in your affections; so farewell my country, and adieu my love. [Exit.

Lady L. Now the devil take thee for being so honourable: here, Parly, call him back, I shall lose half my diversion else. Now for a trial of skill.

Enter Colonel Standard

Sir, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. When do you take your journey?

Colonel S. To-morrow morning, early, madam.

Lady L. So suddenly! which way are you designed to travel?

Colonel S. That I can't yet resolve on.

Lady L. Pray, sir, tell me; pray, sir; I entreat you; why are you so obstinate?

Colonel S. Why are you so curious, madam?

Lady L. Because —

Colonel S. What?

Lady L. Because, I, I —

Colonel S. Because, what, madam? – Pray tell me.

Lady L. Because I design to follow you. [Crying.

Colonel S. Follow me! By all that's great, I ne'er was proud before. Follow me! By Heavens thou shalt not. What! expose thee to the hazards of a camp! – Rather I'll stay, and here bear the contempt of fools, and worst of fortune.

Lady L. You need not, shall not; my estate for both is sufficient.

Colonel S. Thy estate! No, I'll turn a knave, and purchase one myself; I'll cringe to the proud man I undermine; I'll tip my tongue with flattery, and smooth my face with smiles; I'll turn informer, office-broker, nay, coward, to be great; and sacrifice it all to thee, my generous fair.

Lady L. And I'll dissemble, lie, swear, jilt, any thing, but I'll reward thy love, and recompense thy noble passion.

Colonel S. Sir Harry, ha! ha! ha! poor Sir Harry, ha! ha! ha! Rather kiss her hand than the Pope's toe; ha! ha! ha!

Lady L. What Sir Harry, Colonel? What Sir Harry?

Colonel S. Sir Harry Wildair, madam.

Lady L. What! is he come over?

Colonel S. Ay, and he told me – but I don't believe a syllable on't —

Lady L. What did he tell you?

Colonel S. Only called you his mistress; and pretending to be extravagant in your commendation, would vainly insinuate the praise of his own judgment and good fortune in a choice.

Lady L. How easily is the vanity of fops tickled by our sex!

Colonel S. Why, your sex is the vanity of fops.

Lady L. On my conscience, I believe so. This gentleman, because he danced well, I pitched on for a partner at a ball in Paris, and ever since he has so persecuted me with letters, songs, dances, serenading, flattery, foppery, and noise, that I was forced to fly the kingdom. – And I warrant you he made you jealous?

Colonel S. 'Faith, madam, I was a little uneasy.

Lady L. You shall have a plentiful revenge; I'll send him back all his foolish letters, songs, and verses, and you yourself shall carry them: 'twill afford you opportunity of triumphing, and free me from his further impertinence; for of all men he's my aversion. I'll run and fetch them instantly. [Exit.

Colonel S. Dear madam, a rare project! Now shall I bait him, like Actæon, with his own dogs. – Well, Mrs. Parly, it is ordered by act of parliament, that you receive no more pieces, Mrs. Parly.

Parly. 'Tis provided by the same act, that you send no more messages by me, good Colonel; you must not presume to send any more letters, unless you can pay the postage.

Colonel S. Come, come, don't be mercenary; take example by your lady, be honourable.

Parly. A-lack-a-day, sir, it shows as ridiculous and haughty for us to imitate our betters in their honour, as in their finery; leave honour to nobility that can support it: we poor folks, Colonel, have no pretence to't; and truly, I think, sir, that your honour should be cashiered with your leading-staff.

Colonel S. 'Tis one of the greatest curses of poverty to be the jest of chambermaids!

Enter Lurewell

Lady L. Here's the packet, Colonel; the whole magazine of love's artillery.

[Gives him the Packet.

Colonel S. Which, since I have gained, I will turn upon the enemy. Madam, I'll bring you the news of my victory this evening. Poor Sir Harry, ha! ha! ha! [Exit.

 
Lady L. To the right about as you were; march, Colonel. Ha! ha! ha!
Vain man, who boasts of studied parts and wiles!
Nature in us, your deepest art beguiles,
Stamping deep cunning in our frowns and smiles.
You toil for art, your intellects you trace;
Woman, without a thought, bears policy in her face.
 

[Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND

SCENE I

Clincher Junior's Lodgings

Enter Clincher Junior, opening a Letter; Servant following

Clinch. jun. [Reads.] Dear Brother – I will see you presently: I have sent this lad to wait on you; he can instruct you in the fashions of the town. I am your affectionate brother, Clincher.

Very well; and what's your name, sir?

Dicky. My name is Dicky, sir.

Clinch. jun. Dicky!

Dicky. Ay, Dicky, sir.

Clinch. jun. Very well; a pretty name! And what can you do, Mr. Dicky?

Dicky. Why, sir, I can powder a wig, and pick up a whore.

Clinch. jun. Oh, lord! Oh, lord! a whore! Why, are there many in this town?

Dicky. Ha! ha! ha! many! there's a question, indeed! – Harkye, sir; do you see that woman there, in the pink cloak and white feathers.

Clinch. jun. Ay, sir! what then?

Dicky. Why, she shall be at your service in three minutes, as I'm a pimp.

Clinch. jun. Oh, Jupiter Ammon! Why, she's a gentlewoman.

Dicky. A gentlewoman! Why so they are all in town, sir.

Enter Clincher senior

Clinch. sen. Brother, you're welcome to London.

Clinch. jun. I thought, brother, you owed so much to the memory of my father, as to wear mourning for his death.

Clinch. sen. Why, so I do, fool; I wear this, because I have the estate; and you wear that, because you have not the estate. You have cause to mourn, indeed, brother. Well, brother, I'm glad to see you; fare you well. [Going.

Clinch. jun. Stay, stay, brother. – Where are you going?

Clinch. sen. How natural 'tis for a country booby to ask impertinent questions! – Harkye, sir; is not my father dead?

Clinch. jun. Ay, ay, to my sorrow.

Clinch. sen. No matter for that, he's dead; and am not I a young, powdered, extravagant English heir?

Clinch. jun. Very right, sir.

Clinch. sen. Why then, sir, you may be sure that I am going to the Jubilee, sir.

Clinch. jun. Jubilee! What's that?

Clinch. sen. Jubilee! Why, the Jubilee is – 'Faith I don't know what it is.

Dicky. Why, the Jubilee is the same thing as our Lord Mayor's day in the city; there will be pageants, and squibs, and raree-shows, and all that, sir.

Clinch. jun. And must you go so soon, brother?

Clinch. sen. Yes, sir; for I must stay a month at Amsterdam, to study poetry.

Clinch. jun. Then I suppose, brother, you travel through Muscovy, to learn fashions; don't you, brother?

Clinch. sen. Brother! Pr'ythee, Robin, don't call me brother; sir will do every jot as well.

Clinch. jun. Oh, Jupiter Ammon! why so?

Clinch. sen. Because people will imagine you have a spite at me. – But have you seen your cousin Angelica yet, and her mother, the Lady Darling?

Clinch. jun. No; my dancing-master has not been with me yet. How shall I salute them, brother?

Clinch. sen. Pshaw! that's easy; 'tis only two scrapes, a kiss, and your humble servant. I'll tell you more when I come from the Jubilee. Come along. [Exeunt.

SCENE II

Lady Darling's House

Enter Sir H. Wildair with a Letter

 
Sir H. Like light and heat, incorporate we lay;
We bless'd the night, and curs'd the coming day.
Well, if this paper kite flies sure, I'm secure of my game – Humph! – the prettiest bourdel I have seen; a very stately genteel one —
 

Footmen cross the Stage

Heyday! equipage too! – 'Sdeath, I'm afraid I've mistaken the house!

Enter Lady Darling

No, this must be the bawd, by her dignity.

Lady D. Your business, pray, sir?

Sir H. Pleasure, madam.

Lady D. Then, sir, you have no business here.

Sir H. This letter, madam, will inform you farther. Mr. Vizard sent it, with his humble service to your ladyship.

Lady D. How does my cousin, sir?

Sir H. Ay, her cousin, too! that's right procuress again. [Aside.

Lady D. [Reads.] Madam – Earnest inclination to serve – Sir Harry – Madam – court my cousin – Gentleman – fortune —

Your ladyships most humble servant, Vizard.

Sir, your fortune and quality are sufficient to recommend you any where; but what goes farther with me is the recommendation of so sober and pious a young gentleman as my cousin Vizard.

Sir H. A right sanctified bawd o' my word! [Aside.

Lady D. Sir Harry, your conversation with Mr. Vizard argues you a gentleman, free from the loose and vicious carriage of the town. I shall therefore call my daughter. [Exit.

Sir H. Now go thy way for an illustrious bawd of Babylon: – she dresses up a sin so religiously, that the devil would hardly know it of his making.

Enter Lady Darling with Angelica.

Lady D. Pray, daughter, use him civilly; such matches don't offer every day. [Exit Lady Darl.

Sir H. Oh, all ye powers of love! an angel! – 'Sdeath, what money have I got in my pocket? I can't offer her less than twenty guineas – and, by Jupiter, she's worth a hundred.

Ang. 'Tis he! the very same! and his person as agreeable as his character of good humour. – Pray Heaven his silence proceed from respect!

Sir H. How innocent she looks! How would that modesty adorn virtue, when it makes even vice look so charming! – By Heaven, there's such a commanding innocence in her looks, that I dare not ask the question!

Ang. Now, all the charms of real love and feigned indifference assist me to engage his heart; for mine is lost already.

Sir H. Madam – I – I – Zouns, I cannot speak to her! – Oh, hypocrisy! hypocrisy! what a charming sin art thou!

Ang. He is caught; now to secure my conquest – I thought, sir, you had business to communicate.

Sir H. Business to communicate! How nicely she words it! – Yes, madam, I have a little business to communicate. Don't you love singing-birds, madam?

Ang. That's an odd question for a lover – Yes, sir.

Sir H. Why, then, madam, here's a nest of the prettiest goldfinches that ever chirp'd in a cage; twenty young ones, I assure you, madam.

Ang. Twenty young ones! What then, sir?

Sir H. Why then, madam, there are – twenty young ones – 'Slife, I think twenty is pretty fair.

Ang. He's mad, sure! – Sir Harry, when you have learned more wit and manners, you shall be welcome here again. [Exit.

Sir H. Wit and manners! 'Egad, now, I conceive there is a great deal of wit and manners in twenty guineas – I'm sure 'tis all the wit and manners I have about me at present. What shall I do?

Enter Clincher Junior and Dicky

What the devil's here? Another cousin, I warrant ye! – Harkye, sir, can you lend me ten or a dozen guineas instantly? I'll pay you fifteen for them in three hours, upon my honour.

Clinch. jun. These London sparks are plaguy impudent! This fellow, by his assurance, can be no less than a courtier.

Dicky. He's rather a courtier by his borrowing.

Clinch. jun. 'Faith, sir, I han't above five guineas about me.

Sir H. What business have you here then, sir? – For, to my knowledge, twenty won't be sufficient.

Clinch. jun. Sufficient! for what, sir?

Sir H. What, sir! Why, for that, sir; what the devil should it be, sir? I know your business, notwithstanding all your gravity, sir.

Clinch. jun. My business! Why, my cousin lives here.

Sir H. I know your cousin does live here, and Vizard's cousin, and every body's cousin – Harkye, sir, I shall return immediately; and if you offer to touch her till I come back, I shall cut your throat, rascal. [Exit.

Clinch. jun. Why, the man's mad, sure!

Dicky. Mad, sir! Ay – Why, he's a beau.

Clinch. jun. A beau! What's that? Are all madmen beaux?

Dicky. No, sir; but most beaux are madmen. – But now for your cousin. Remember your three scrapes, a kiss, and your humble servant. [Exeunt.

SCENE III

A Street

Enter Sir Harry Wildair, Colonel Standard following

Colonel S. Sir Harry! Sir Harry!

Sir H. I am in haste, Colonel; besides, if you're in no better humour than when I parted with you in the park this morning, your company won't be very agreeable.

Colonel S. You're a happy man, Sir Harry, who are never out of humour. Can nothing move your gall, Sir Harry?

Sir H. Nothing but impossibilities, which are the same as nothing.

Colonel S. What impossibilities?

Sir H. The resurrection of my father to disinherit me, or an act of parliament against wenching. A man of eight thousand pounds per annum to be vexed! No, no; anger and spleen are companions for younger brothers.

Colonel S. Suppose one called you a son of a whore behind your back.

Sir H. Why, then would I call him rascal behind his back; so we're even.

Colonel S. But suppose you had lost a mistress.

Sir H. Why, then I would get another.

Colonel S. But suppose you were discarded by the woman you love; that would surely trouble you.

Sir H. You're mistaken, Colonel; my love is neither romantically honourable, nor meanly mercenary; 'tis only a pitch of gratitude: while she loves me, I love her; when she desists, the obligation's void.

Colonel S. But to be mistaken in your opinion, sir; if the Lady Lurewell (only suppose it) had discarded you – I say, only suppose it – and had sent your discharge by me.

Sir H. Pshaw! that's another impossibility.

Colonel S. Are you sure of that?

Sir H. Why, 'twere a solecism in nature. Why, we are finger and glove, sir. She dances with me, sings with me, plays with me, swears with me, lies with me.

Colonel S. How, sir?

Sir H. I mean in an honourable way; that is, she lies for me. In short, we are as like one another as a couple of guineas.

Colonel S. Now that I have raised you to the highest pinnacle of vanity, will I give you so mortifying a fall, as shall dash your hopes to pieces. – I pray your honour to peruse these papers.

[Gives him the Packet.

Sir H. What is't, the muster-roll of your regiment, colonel?

Colonel S. No, no, 'tis a list of your forces in your last love campaign; and, for your comfort, all disbanded.

Sir H. Pr'ythee, good metaphorical colonel, what d'ye mean?

Colonel S. Read, sir, read; these are the Sibyl's leaves, that will unfold your destiny.

Sir H. So it be not a false deed to cheat me of my estate, what care I – [Opening the Packet.] Humph! my hand! —To the Lady Lurewell—To the Lady Lurewell—To the Lady Lurewell– What the devil hast thou been tampering with, to conjure up these spirits?

Colonel S. A certain familiar of your acquaintance, sir. Read, read.

Sir H. [Reading.] Madam, my passion – so natural – your beauty contending – force of charms – mankind – eternal admirer, Wildair. – I ne'er was ashamed of my name before.

Colonel S. What, Sir Harry Wildair out of humour! ha! ha! ha! Poor Sir Harry! More glory in her smile than in the Jubilee at Rome; ha! ha! ha! But then her foot, Sir Harry; she dances to a miracle! ha! ha! ha! Fie, Sir Harry; a man of your parts write letters not worth keeping!

Sir H. Now, why should I be angry that a woman is a woman? Since inconstancy and falsehood are grounded in their natures, how can they help it? – Here's a copy of verses too: I must turn poet, in the devil's name – Stay – 'Sdeath, what's here? – This is her hand – Oh, the charming characters! – [Reading.] —My dear Wildair, – That's I, 'egad! —This huff-bluff Colonel– that's he —is the rarest fool in nature– the devil he is! —and as such have I used him. – With all my heart, 'faith! —I had no better way of letting you know that I lodge in Pall Mall– Lurewell.

– Colonel, I am your most humble servant.

Colonel S. Hold, sir, you shan't go yet; I ha'n't delivered half my message.

Sir H. Upon my faith, but you have, colonel.

Colonel S. Well, well, own your spleen; out with it; I know you're like to burst.

Sir H. I am so, 'egad; ha! ha! ha!

[Laugh and point at one another.

Colonel S. Ay, with all my heart; ha! ha! Well, well, that's forced, Sir Harry.

Sir H. I was never better pleased in all my life, by Jupiter.

Colonel S. Well, Sir Harry, 'tis prudence to hide your concern, when there's no help for it. But, to be serious, now; the lady has sent you back all your papers there – I was so just as not to look upon them.

Sir H. I'm glad on't, sir; for there were some things that I would not have you see.

Colonel S. All this she has done for my sake; and I desire you would decline any further pretensions for your own sake. So, honest, goodnatured Sir Harry, I'm your humble servant. [Exit.

Sir H. Ha! ha! ha! poor colonel! Oh, the delight of an ingenious mistress! what a life and briskness it adds to an amour. – A legerdemain mistress, who, presto! pass! and she's vanished; then hey! in an instant in your arms again. [Going.

Enter Vizard

Vizard. Well met, Sir Harry – what news from the island of love?

Sir H. 'Faith, we made but a broken voyage by your chart; but now I am bound for another port: I told you the colonel was my rival.

Vizard. The colonel – curs'd misfortune! another. [Aside.

Sir H. But the civilest in the world; he brought me word where my mistress lodges. The story's too long to tell you now, for I must fly.

Vizard. What, have you given over all thoughts of Angelica?

Sir H. No, no; I'll think of her some other time. But now for the Lady Lurewell. Wit and beauty calls.

 
That mistress ne'er can pall her lover's joys,
Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys.
Her little amorous frauds all truths excel,
And make us happy, being deceived so well.
 

[Exit.

Vizard. The colonel my rival too! – How shall I manage? There is but one way – him and the knight will I set a tilting, where one cuts t'other's throat, and the survivor's hanged: so there will be two rivals pretty decently disposed of. [Exit.

SCENE IV

Lady Lurewell's Lodgings

Enter Lady Lurewell and Parly

Lady L. Has my servant brought me the money from my merchant?