The Works of Aphra Behn, Vol. III - Aphra Behn
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Chorus.
_'Tis enough, you once shall find,
Fortune may to Worth be kind_; [gives him Gold.
_And Love can leave off being blind_.
Pert sings.
_You, before you enter here
On this sacred Ring must swear_,
[Puts it on his Finger, holds his Hand.
_By the Figure which is round,
Your Passion constant and profound;
By the Adamantine Stone,
To be fixt to one alone:
By the Lustre, which is true,
Ne'er to break your sacred Vow.
Lastly, by the Gold that's try'd,
For Love all Dangers to abide_.
They all dance about him, while those same two sing.
Man. _Once about him let us move,
To confirm him true to Love_. [bis.
Pert. _Twice with mystick turning Feet,
Make him silent and discreet_. [bis.
Man. _Thrice about him let us tread,
To keep him ever young in Bed_. [bis.
Gives him another part.
Man. _Forget_ Aminta's _proud Disdain;
Haste here, and sigh no more in vain,
The Joy of Love without the Pain_.
Pert. _That God repents his former Slights,
And Fortune thus your Faith requites_.
Both. _Forget_ Aminta's _proud Disdain;
Then taste, and sigh no more in vain,
The Joy of Love without the Pain,
The Joy of Love without the Pain_.
[_Exeunt_ all Dancers. Looks on himself, and feels about him.
_Gay_. What the Devil can all this mean? If there be a Woman in the
Case--sure I have not liv'd so bad a Life, to gain the dull Reputation
of so modest a Coxcomb, but that a Female might down with me, without
all this Ceremony. Is it care of her Honour?--that cannot be--this Age
affords none so nice: Nor Fiend nor Goddess can she be, for these I saw
were Mortal. No--'tis a Woman--I am positive. Not young nor handsom, for
then Vanity had made her glory to have been seen. No--since 'tis
resolved, a Woman--she must be old and ugly, and will not balk my Fancy
with her sight, but baits me more with this essential Beauty.
_Well--be she young or old, Woman or Devil,
She pays, and I'll endeavour to be civil_.
[_Exit_.
SCENE V. _In the same House. The flat Scene of the Hall_.
_After a Knocking, enter_ Bredwel _in his masking Habit, with
his Vizard in the one Hand, and a Light in t'other, in haste_.
_Bred_. Hah, knocking so late at our Gate--
[_Opens the door_.
_Enter Sir_ Feeble _drest, and arm'd Cap-a-pee, with a broad
Waste-Belt stuck round with Pistols, a Helmet, Scarf, Buff-coat
and half Pike_.
Sir _Feeb_. How now, how now, what's the matter here?
_Bred_. Matter, what, is my Lady's innocent Intrigue found out?--
Heavens, Sir, what makes you here in this warlike Equipage?
Sir _Feeb_. What makes you in this showing Equipage, Sir?
_Bred_. I have been dancing among some of my Friends.
Sir _Feeb_. And I thought to have been fighting with some of my Friends.
Where's Sir _Cautious_, where's Sir _Cautious_?
_Bred_. Sir _Cautious_--Sir, in Bed.
Sir _Feeb_. Call him, call him--quickly, good _Edward_.
_Bred_. Sure my Lady's Frolick is betray'd, and he comes to make
Mischief. However, I'll go and secure Mr. _Gayman_.
[_Exit_ Bredwel.
_Enter Sir_ Cautious _and_ Dick _his Boy with Light_.
_Dick_. Pray, Sir, go to Bed, here's no Thieves; all's still and well.
Sir _Cau_. This last Night's misfortune of mine, _Dick_, has kept me
waking, and methought all night, I heard a kind of a silent Noise. I am
still afraid of Thieves; mercy upon me, to lose five hundred Guineas at
one clap, _Dick_.--Hah--bless me! what's yonder? Blow the great Horn,
_Dick_--Thieves--Murder, Murder!
Sir _Feeb_. Why, what a Pox, are you mad? 'Tis I, 'tis I, man.
Sir _Cau_. I, who am I? Speak--declare--pronounce.
Sir _Feeb_. Your Friend, old _Feeble Fainwou'd_.
Sir _Cau_. How, Sir _Feeble_! At this late hour, and on his Wedding-Night
--why, what's the matter, Sir--is it Peace or War with you?
Sir _Feeb_. A Mistake, a Mistake, proceed to the business, good Brother,
for time you know is precious.
Sir _Cau_. Some strange Catastrophe has happened between him and his
Wife to Night, and makes him disturb me thus-- [_Aside_.
--Come, sit, good Brother, and to the business as you say--
[_They sit one at one end of the Table, the other at the other;
_Dick_ sets down the Light and goes out--both sit gaping and
staring, and expecting when either should speak_.
Sir _Feeb_. As soon as you please, Sir.
Lord, how wildly he stares! He's much disturb'd in's mind
--Well, Sir, let us be brief--
Sir _Cau_. As brief as you please, Sir--Well, Brother--
[_Pausing still_.
Sir _Feeb_. So, Sir.
Sir _Cau_. How strangely he stares and gapes--some deep concern.
Sir _Feeb_. Hum--hum--
Sir _Cau_. I listen to you, advance--
Sir _Feeb_. Sir?
Sir _Cau_. A very distracted Countenance--pray Heaven he be not mad,
and a young Wife is able to make an old Fellow mad, that's the Truth
on't. [_Aside_.
Sir _Feeb_. Sure 'tis something of his Lady--he's so loth to bring it out
--I am sorry you are thus disturb'd, Sir.
Sir _Cau_. No disturbance to serve a Friend--
Sir _Feeb_. I think I am your Friend indeed, Sir _Cautious_, or I wou'd
not have been here upon my Wedding-Night.
Sir _Cau_. His Wedding-Night--there lies his Grief, poor Heart! Perhaps
she has cuckolded him already-- [_Aside_.
--Well, come, Brother--many such things are done--
Sir _Feeb_. Done--hum--come, out with it; Brother--what troubles you to
Night?
Sir _Cau_. Troubles me--why, knows he I am robb'd? [_Aside_.
Sir _Feeb_. I may perhaps restore you to the Rest you've lost.
Sir _Cau_. The Rest; why, have I lost more since? Why, know you then who
did it?--Oh, how I'd be reveng'd upon the Rascal!
Sir _Feeb_. 'Tis--Jealousy, the old Worm that bites-- [_Aside_.
Who is it you suspect?
Sir _Cau_. Alas, I know not whom to suspect, I wou'd I did; but if you
cou'd discover him--I wou'd so swinge him--
Sir _Feeb_. I know him--what, do you take me for a Pimp, Sir? I know
him--there's your Watch again, Sir; I'm your Friend, but no Pimp,
Sir--
[_Rises in Rage_.
Sir _Cau_. My Watch; I thank you, Sir--but why Pimp, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. Oh, a very thriving Calling, Sir,--and I have a young Wife
to practise with. I know your Rogues.
Sir _Cau_. A young Wife!--'tis so, his Gentlewoman has been at
Hot-Cockles without her Husband, and he's Horn-mad upon't. I suspected
her being so close in with his Nephew--in a Fit with a Pox--[_Aside_.]
Come, come, Sir _Feeble_, 'tis many an honest Man's Fortune.
Sir _Feeb_. I grant it, Sir--but to the business, Sir, I came for.
Sir _Cau_. With all my Soul--
[_They sit gaping, and expecting when either should speak.
Enter_ Bredwel _and_ Gayman _at the door_. Bredwel _sees them,
and puts_ Gayman_ back again_.
_Bred_. Hah--Sir _Feeble_, and Sir _Cautious_ there--what shall I do?
For this way we must pass, and to carry him back wou'd discover my Lady
to him, betray all, and spoil the Jest--retire, Sir, your Life depends
upon your being unseen. [_Go out_.
Sir _Feeb_. Well, Sir, do you not know that I am married, Sir? and this
my Wedding Night?
Sir _Cau_. Very good, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. And that I long to be in bed?
Sir _Cau_. Very well, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. Very good, Sir, and very well, Sir--why then what the Devil
do I make here, Sir? [_Rises in a rage_.
Sir _Cau_. Patience, Brother--and forward.
Sir _Feeb_. Forward! lend me your hand, good Brother; let's feel your
Pulse; how has this Night gone with you?
Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha--this is the oddest Quonudrum--sure he's mad--and
yet now I think on't, I have not slept to night, nor shall I ever sleep
again, till I have found the Villain that robb'd me. [_Weeps_.
Sir _Feeb_. So, now he weeps--far gone--this Laughing and Weeping is a
very bad sign! [_Aside_.] Come, let me lead you to your Bed.
Sir _Cau_. Mad, stark mad--no, now I'm up 'tis no matter--pray ease your
troubled Mind--I am your Friend--out with it--what, was it acted? or
but designed?
Sir _Feeb_. How, Sir?
Sir _Cau_. Be not asham'd, I'm under the same Premunire I doubt, little
better than a--but let that pass.
Sir _Feeb_. Have you any Proof?
Sir _Cau_. Proof of what, good Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. Of what! why, that you're a Cuckold; Sir, a Cuckold, if
you'll ha't.
Sir _Cau_. Cuckold! Sir, do ye know what ye say?
Sir _Feeb_. What I say?
Sir _Cau_. Ay, what you say, can you make this out?
Sir _Feeb_. I make it out!
Sir _Cau_. Ay, Sir--if you say it, and cannot make it out, you're a--
Sir _Feeb_. What am I, Sir? What am I?
Sir _Cau_. A Cuckold as well as my self, Sir; and I'll sue you for
_Scandalum Magnatum_; I shall recover swinging Damages with a City-Jury.
Sir _Feeb_. I know of no such thing, Sir.
Sir _Cau_. No, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. No, Sir.
Sir _Cau_. Then what wou'd you be at, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. I be at, Sir! what wou'd you be at, Sir?
Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha--why this is the strangest thing--to see an old
Fellow, a Magistrate of the City, the first Night he's married, forsake
his Bride and Bed, and come arm'd Cap-a-pee, like _Gargantua_, to
disturb another old Fellow, and banter him with a Tale of a Tub; and all
to be-cuckold him here--in plain _English_, what's your Business?
Sir _Feeb_. Why, what the Devil's your Business, and you go to that?
Sir _Cau_. My Business, with whom?
Sir _Feeb_. With me, Sir, with me; what a Pox do you think I do here?
Sir _Cau_. 'Tis that I wou'd be glad to know, Sir.
_Enter _Dick.
Sir _Feeb_. Here, _Dick_, remember I've brought back your Master's
Watch; next time he sends for me o'er Night, I'll come to him in
the Morning.
Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha, I send for you! Go home and sleep, Sir--Ad, and
ye keep your Wife waking to so little purpose, you'll go near to be
haunted with a Vision of Horns.
[_Exit_ Dick.
Sir _Feeb_. Roguery, Knavery, to keep me from my Wife--Look ye, this was
the Message I receiv'd.
[_Tells him seemingly_.
_Enter_ Bredwel _to the Door in a white Sheet like a Ghost,
speaking to_ Gayman _who stands within_.
_Bred_. Now, Sir, we are two to two, for this way you must pass or be
taken in the Lady's Lodgings--I'll first adventure out to make you pass
the safer, and that he may not, if possible, see Sir _Cautious_, whom I
shall fright into a Trance, I am sure.
And Sir _Feeble_, the Devil's in't if he know him. [_Aside_.
_Gay_. A brave kind Fellow this.
_Enter_ Bredwel _stalking on as a Ghost by them_.
Sir _Cau_. Oh--undone,--undone; help, help;--I'm dead, I'm dead.
[_Falls down on his Face; Sir_ Feeble _stares,--and stands still_.
_Bred_. As I could wish. [_Aside, turns_.
Come on, thou ghastly thing, and follow me.
_Enter_ Gayman _like a Ghost, with a Torch_.
Sir _Cau_. Oh Lord, oh Lord!
_Gay_. Hah!--old Sir _Feeble Fainwou'd_--why, where the Devil am I?
--'Tis he:--and be it where it will, I'll fright the old Dotard for
cozening my Friend of his Mistress. [_Stalks on_.
Sir _Feeb_. Oh, guard me,--guard me--all ye Pow'rs! [_Trembling_.
_Gay_. Thou call'st in vain, fond Wretch--for I am _Bellmour_,
_Whom first thou robb'st of Fame and Life,
And then what dearer was,--his Wife_.
[_Goes out, shaking his Torch at him_.
Sir _Cau_. Oh Lord--oh Lord!
_Enter L_. Fulbank _in an undress, and_ Pert _undrest.
L. _Ful_. Heavens, what noise is this?--So he's got safe out I see--hah,
what thing art thou? [_Sees Sir _Feeble_ arm'd_.
Sir _Feeb_. Stay, Madam, stay--'tis I, a poor trembling Mortal.
L. _Ful_. Sir _Feeble Fainwou'd!_--rise,--are you both mad?
Sir _Cau_. No, no,--Madam, we have seen the Devil.
Sir _Feeb_. Ay, and he was as tall as the Monument.
Sir _Cau_. With Eyes like a Beacon--and a Mouth,--Heaven bless us, like
_London_ Bridge at a full Tide.
Sir _Feeb_. Ay, and roar'd as loud.
L. _Ful_. Idle Fancies, what makes you from your Bed? and you, Sir, from
your Bride?
_Enter_ Dick _with Sack_.
Sir _Feeb_. Oh! that's the business of another day, a mistake only,
Madam.
L. _Ful_. Away, I'm asham'd to see wise Men so weak; the Fantoms of the
Night, or your own Shadows, the Whimseys of the Brain for want of Rest,
or perhaps _Bredwel_, your Man--who being wiser than his Master, play'd
you this Trick to fright you both to Bed.
Sir _Feeb_. Hum--adod, and that may be, for the young Knave when he let
me in to Night, was drest up for some Waggery--
Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha, 'twas even so, sure enough, Brother--
Sir _Feeb_. Ads bobs, but they frighted me at first basely--but I'll
home to Pupsey, there may be Roguery, as well as here--Madam, I ask your
Pardon, I see we're all mistaken.
L. _Ful_. Ay, Sir _Feeble_, go home to your Wife.
[_Ex. severally_.
SCENE VI. _The Street_.
_Enter_ Bellmour _at the door, knocks, and enter to him
from the House_, Phillis.
_Phil_. Oh, are you come, Sir? I'll call my Lady down.
_Bel_. Oh, haste, the Minutes fly--leave all behind.
And bring _Leticia_ only to my Arms.
[_A noise of People_.
--Hah, what noise is that? 'Tis coming this way,
I tremble with my fears--hah, Death and the Devil,
'Tis he--
_Enter Sir_ Feeble _and his Men arm'd, goes to the door, knocks_.
Ay, 'tis he, and I'm undone--what shall I do to kill him now? besides,
the Sin wou'd put me past all Hopes of pardoning.
Sir _Feeb_. A damn'd Rogue to deceive me thus.--
_Bel_. Hah--see, by Heaven _Leticia_, Oh, we are ruin'd!
Sir _Feeb_. Hum--what's here, two Women?--
[_Stands a little off_.
_Enter_ Leticia _and_ Phillis _softly, undrest, with a Box_.
_Let_. Where are you, my best Wishes? Lord of my Vows--and Charmer of my
Soul? Where are you?
_Bel_. Oh, Heavens!--
[_Draws his Sword half-way_.
Sir _Feeb_. Hum, who's here? My Gentlewoman--she's monstrous kind of the
sudden. But whom is't meant to? [_Aside_.
_Let_. Give me your hand, my Love, my Life, my All--Alas! where are you?
Sir _Feeb_. Hum--no, no, this is not to me--I am jilted, cozen'd,
cuckolded, and so forth.--
[_Groping, she takes hold of Sir_ Feeb.
_Let_. Oh, are you here? indeed you frighted me with your Silence--here,
take these Jewels, and let us haste away.
Sir _Feeb_. Hum--are you thereabouts, Mistress? was I sent away with a
Sham-Plot for this!--She cannot mean it to me. [_Aside_.
_Let_. Will you not speak?--will you not answer me?--do you repent
already?--before Enjoyment are you cold and false?
Sir _Feeb_. Hum, before Enjoyment--that must be me. Before Injoyment--
Ay, ay, 'tis I--I see a little Prolonging a Woman's Joy, sets an Edge
upon her Appetite. [_Merrily_.
_Let_. What means my Dear? shall we not haste away?
Sir _Feeb_. Haste away! there 'tis again--No--'tis not me she means:
what, at your Tricks and Intrigues already?--Yes, yes, I am destin'd
a Cuckold--
_Let_. Say, am I not your Wife? can you deny me?
Sir _Feeb_. Wife! adod, 'tis I she means--'tis I she means--[_Merrily_.
_Let_. Oh _Bellmour, Bellmour_.
[_Sir _Feeb_. starts back from her hands_.
Sir _Feeb_. Hum--what's that--_Bellmour_!
_Let_. Hah! Sir _Feeble_!--he would not, Sir, have us'd me thus
unkindly.
Sir _Feeb_. Oh--I'm glad 'tis no worse--_Bellmour_, quoth a! I thought
the Ghost was come again.
_Phil_. Why did you not speak, Sir, all this while?--my Lady weeps with
your Unkindness.
Sir _Feeb_. I did but hold my peace, to hear how prettily she prattled
Love: But, fags, you are naught to think of a young Fellow--ads bobs,
you are now.
_Let_. I only say--he wou'd not have been so unkind to me.
Sir _Feeb_. But what makes ye out at this Hour, and with these Jewels?
_Phil_. Alas, Sir, we thought the City was in Arms, and packt up our
things to secure 'em, if there had been a necessity for Flight. For
had they come to plundering once, they wou'd have begun with the rich
Aldermen's Wives, you know, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. Ads bobs, and so they would--but there was no Arms, nor
Mutiny--where's _Francis_?
_Bel_. Here, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. Here, Sir--why, what a story you made of a Meeting in the
Hall, and--Arms, and--a--the Devil of any thing was stirring, but a
couple of old Fools, that sat gaping and waiting for one another's
business--
_Bel_. Such a Message was brought me, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. Brought! thou'rt an Ass, _Francis_--but no more--come, come,
let's to bed--
_Let_. To Bed, Sir! what, by Day-light?--for that's hasting on--I wou'd
not for the World--the Night wou'd hide my Blushes--but the Day--wou'd
let me see my self in your Embraces.
Sir _Feeb_. Embraces, in a Fiddlestick; why, are we not married?
_Let_. 'Tis true, Sir, and Time will make me more familiar with you, but
yet my Virgin Modesty forbids it. I'll to _Diana's_ Chamber, the Night
will come again.
Sir _Feeb_. For once you shall prevail; and this damn'd Jant has pretty
well mortified me:--a Pox of your Mutiny, _Francis_.--Come, I'll conduct
thee to _Diana_, and lock thee in, that I may have thee safe, Rogue.--
_We'll give young Wenches leave to whine and blush,
And fly those Blessings which--ads bobs, they wish_.
[_Exeunt_.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. _Sir _Feeble's_ House_.
_Enter Lady_ Fulbank, Gayman _fine, gently pulling her back
by the hand; and_ Ralph _meets 'em_.
L. _Ful_. How now, _Ralph_--Let your Lady know I am come to wait on her.
[_Exit _Ralph.
_Gay_. Oh, why this needless Visit--
Your Husband's safe, at least till Evening safe.
Why will you not go back,
And give me one soft hour, though to torment me?
L. _Ful_. You are at leisure now, I thank you, Sir.
Last Night when I with all Love's Rhetorick pleaded,
And Heaven knows what last Night might have produced,
You were engag'd! False Man, I do believe it,
And I am satisfied you love me not.
[_Walks away in scorn_.
_Gay_. Not love you!
Why do I waste my Youth in vain pursuit,
Neglecting Interest, and despising Power?
Unheeding and despising other Beauties.
Why at your feet are all my Fortunes laid,
And why does all my Fate depend on you?
L. _Ful_. I'll not consider why you play the Fool,
Present me Rings and Bracelets; why pursue me;
Why watch whole Nights before my senseless Door,
And take such Pains to shew your self a Coxcomb.
_Gay_. Oh! why all this?
By all the Powers above, by this dear Hand,
And by this Ring, which on this Hand I place,
On which I've sworn Fidelity to Love;
I never had a Wish or soft Desire
To any other Woman,
Since _Julia_ sway'd the Empire of my Soul.
L. _Ful_. Hah, my own Ring I gave him last night. [_Aside_.
--Your Jewel, Sir, is rich:
Why do you part with things of so much value,
So easily, and so frequently?
_Gay_. To strengthen the weak Arguments of Love.
L. _Ful_. And leave your self undone?
_Gay_. Impossible, if I am blest with _Julia_.
L. _Ful_. Love's a thin Diet, nor will keep out Cold.
You cannot satisfy your Dunning Taylor,
To cry--I am in Love!
Though possible you may your Seamstress.
_Gay_. Does ought about me speak such Poverty?
L. _Ful_. I am sorry that it does not, since to maintain
This Gallantry, 'tis said you use base means,
Below a Gentleman.
_Gay_. Who dares but to imagine it's a Rascal,
A Slave, below a beating--what means my _Julia_?
L. _Ful_. No more dissembling, I know your Land is gone
--I know each Circumstance of all your Wants;
Therefore--as e'er you hope that I should love you ever--
Tell me--where 'twas you got this Jewel, Sir.
_Gay_. Hah--I hope 'tis no stol'n Goods; [_Aside_.
Why on the sudden all this nice examining?
L. _Ful_. You trifle with me, and I'll plead no more.
_Gay_. Stay--why--I bought it, Madam--
L. _Ful_. Where had you Money, Sir? You see I am
No Stranger to your Poverty.
_Gay_. This is strange--perhaps it is a secret.
L. _Ful_. So is my Love, which shall be kept from you.
[_Offers to go_.
_Gay_. Stay, _Julia_--your Will shall be obey'd, [_Sighing_.
Though I had rather die than be obedient,
Because I know you'll hate me when 'tis told.
L. _Ful_. By all my Vows, let it be what it will,
It ne'er shall alter me from loving you.
_Gay_. I have--of late--been tempted--
With Presents, Jewels, and large Sums of Gold.
L. _Ful_. Tempted! by whom?
_Gay_. The Devil, for ought I know.
L. _Ful_. Defend me, Heaven! the Devil?
I hope you have not made a Contract with him.
_Gay_. No, though in the Shape of Woman it appear'd.
L. _Ful_. Where met you with it?
_Gay_. By Magick Art I was conducted--I know not how,
To an inchanted Palace in the Clouds,
Where I was so attended--
Young dancing, singing Fiends innumerable.
L. _Ful_. Imagination all!
_Gay_. But for the amorous Devil, the old _Proserpine_.--
L. _Ful_. Ay, she--what said she?--
_Gay_. Not a word: Heaven be prais'd, she was a silent Devil--but she
was laid in a Pavilion, all form'd of gilded Clouds, which hung by
Geometry, whither I was conveyed, after much Ceremony, and laid in Bed
with her; where with much ado, and trembling with my Fears--I forc'd my
Arms about her.
L. _Ful_. And sure that undeceiv'd him. [_Aside_.
_Gay_. But such a Carcase 'twas--deliver me--so rivell'd, lean and
rough--a Canvas Bag of wooden Ladles were a better Bed-fellow.
L. _Ful_. Now though I know that nothing is more distant than I from
such a Monster--yet this angers me. Death! cou'd you love me and submit
to this?
_Gay_. 'Twas that first drew me in--
The tempting Hope of Means to conquer you,
Wou'd put me upon any dangerous Enterprize:
Were I the Lord of all the Universe,
I am so lost in Love,
For one dear Night to clasp you in my Arms,
I'd lavish all that World--then die with Joy.
L. _Ful_. 'Slife, after all to seem deform'd, old, ugly--
[_Walking in a fret_.
_Gay_. I knew you would be angry when you heard it.
[_He pursues her in a submissive posture_.
_Enter Sir_ Cautious, Bearjest, Noisey _and_ Bredwel.
Sir _Cau_. How, what's here?--my Lady with the Spark that courted her
last Night?--hum--with her again so soon?--Well, this Impudence and
Importunity undoes more City-Wives than all their unmerciful Finery.
_Gay_. But, Madam--
L. _Ful_. Oh, here's my Husband--you'd best tell him your Story--what
makes him here so soon?-- [_Angry_.
Sir _Cau_. Me his Story! I hope he will not tell me he'as a mind to
cuckold me.
_Gay_. A Devil on him, what shall I say to him?
L. _Ful_. What, so excellent at Intrigues, and so dull at an Excuse?
[_Aside_.
_Gay_. Yes, Madam, I shall tell him--
_Enter _Bellmour.
L. _Ful_.--Is my Lady at leisure for a Visit, Sir?
_Bel_. Always to receive your Ladyship.
[_She goes out_.
Sir _Cau_. With me, Sir, wou'd you speak?
_Gay_. With you, Sir, if your name be _Fulbank_.
Sir _Cau_. Plain _Fulbank_! methinks you might have had a Sirreverence,
under your Girdle, Sir; I am honoured with another Title, Sir--
[_Goes talking to the rest_.
_Gay_. With many, Sir, that very well become you--
[_Pulls him a little aside_.
I've something to deliver to your Ear.
Sir _Cau_. So, I'll be hang'd if he do not tell me, I'm a Cuckold now: I
see it in his Eyes. My Ear, Sir! I'd have you to know I scorn any man's
secrets, Sir;--for ought I know you may whisper Treason to me, Sir.
Pox on him, how handsom he is, I hate the sight of the young Stallion.
[_Aside_.
_Gay_. I wou'd not be so uncivil, Sir, before all this Company.
Sir _Cau_. Uncivil! Ay, ay, 'tis so, he cannot be content to cuckold,
but he must tell me so too.
_Gay_. But since you will have it, Sir--you are--a Rascal--a most
notorious Villain, Sir, d'ye hear--
Sir _Cau_. Yes, yes, I do hear--and am glad 'tis no worse. [_Laughing_.
_Gay_. Griping as Hell--and as insatiable--worse than a Brokering Jew,
not all the Twelve Tribes harbour such a damn'd Extortioner.
Sir _Cau_. Pray, under favour, Sir, who are you?
[_Pulling off his Hat_.
_Gay_. One whom thou hast undone--
Sir _Cau_. Hum--I'm glad of that however. [_Aside smiling_.
_Gay_. Racking me up to a starving Want and Misery,
Then took advantages to ruin me.
Sir _Cau_. So, and he'd revenge it on my Wife-- [_Aside smiling_.
_Gay_. Do not you know one _Wasteall_, Sir?
_Enter_ Ralph _with Wine, sets it on a Table_.
Sir _Cau_. _Wasteall_--ha, ha, ha,--if you are any Friend to that poor
Fellow--you may return and tell him, Sir--d'ye hear--that the Mortgage
of two hundred pound a Year is this day out, and I'll not bait him an
hour, Sir--ha, ha, ha,--what, do you think to hector civil Magistrates?