Let them take away that chimney-board, and light a fire bere immediately. Lady Min. What shall I do? [Aside, and greatly alarmed.Here, Jessamy, there is no occasion; I am going to my own chamber, and my lord won't stay here by himself. [Exit JESSAMY. Lord Min. How cruel it is, lady Minikin, to deprive me of the pleasure of a domnestic duetto A good escape, faith! [Aside. Lady Min. I have too much regard for lord Minikin, to agree to any thing that would afford him so little pleasure-I shall retire to my own apartment. Lord Min. Well, if your ladyship will be cruel, I must still, like the miser, starve and sigh, though possessed of the greatest treasure. [Bows.] I wish your ladyship a good night He takes one candle, and LADY MINIKIN the other. nasty man! May I presume[Salutes her. Lady Min. Your lordship is too obliging [Aside. Lord Min. Disagreeable woman! [Aside. [They wipe their lips, and exeunt different ways, ceremoniously. Miss Tit. [Peeping out of the closet.] All's silent now, and quite dark; what has been doing here, I cannot guess-I long to be relieved; I wish my lord was come-but I hear a noise! [She shuts the door. Col. Tivy. [Peeping over the chimney-bourd.] I wonder my lady does not come-I would not have miss Tittup know of this-'twould be ten thousand pounds out of my way, and I can't afford to give so much for a little gallantry. Miss Tit, [Comes forward.] What would my colonel say, to find his bride, that is to be, in this critical situation ! Enter LORD MINIKIN at one door, in the dark. Lord Min. Now to release my prisoner. [Comes forward. Enter SIR JOHN, in his night-cap, and hanger drawn, with JESSAMY. Sir John. Give me the candle, I'll ferret them out, I warrant; bring a blunderbuss, I say! they have been skipping about that gallery in the dark this half hour; there must be mischief-I have watched them in this room-ho, ho, are you there? If you stir, you are dead men-[They retire.] and [Seeing the ladies.] women, too!egad-ha! what's this? the same party again! and two couple they are of as choice mortals as ever were hatched in this righteous town-you'll excuse me, cousins! [They all look confounded. Lord Min. In the naine of wonder, how comes all this about? Sir John. Well, but hark'e, my dear cousins, have you not got wrong partners?-here has been some mistake in the dark; I am mighty glad that I have brought you a candle to set all to rights again-you'll excuse me, gentlemen and ladies! Enter GYMP, with a candle. Gymp. What, in the name of mercy, is the matter? Sir John. Why, the old matter, and the old game, Mrs Gymp; and I'll match my cousins here at it against all the world, and I say done first. Lord Min. What is the meaning, sir John, of all this tumult and consternation? may not lady Minikin and I, and the colonel and your niece, be seen in my house together, without your raising the family, and making this uproar and confusion? Sir John. Come, come, good folks, I see you are all confounded; I'll settle this matter in a moment. As for you, colonel-though you have not deserved plain dealing from me, I will now be serious-you imagine this young lady has an independent fortune, besides expectations from me. 'Tis a mistake. She has no expectations from me, if she marry you; and if I don't consent to her marriage, she will have no fortune at Enter LADY MINIKIN at the other door. Lady Min. My poor colonel will be as miserable, as if he were besieged in garrison; I must release him. [Going towards the chimney.all. Lord Min. Hist! hist! Miss Tit. Lady Min. and Col. Tivy. Here! here! Col. Tivy. Plain dealing is a jewel; and to shew you, sir John, that I can pay you in kind, I am most sincerely obliged to you for your intelli gence; and I am, ladies, your most obedient humble servant- -I shall see you, my lord, at the club to-morrow? [Exit. Lord Min. Sans doute, mon cher colonel-I'll meet you there without fail. Sir John. My lord, you'll have something else to do. Lord Min. Indeed! what is that, good sir John? Sir John. You must meet your lawyers and creditors to-morrow, and be told what you have always turned a deaf ear to- -that the dissipation of your fortune and morals must be followed by years of parsimony and repentance. As you are fond of going abroad, you may indulge that inclination without having it in your power to indulge any other. Lord Min. The bumpkin is no fool, and is damned satirical! [Aside. Sir John. This kind of quarantine for pestilential minds will bring you to your senses, and make you renounce foreign vices and follies, and return with joy to your country and property again -read that, my lord, and know your fate. [Gives a paper. Lord Min. What an abomination is this! that a man of fashion, and a nobleman, shall be obliged to submit to the laws of his country! Sir John. Thank Heaven, my lord, we are in that country! You are silent, ladies; if repentance has subdued your tongues, I shall have hopes of you; a little country air might perhaps do well; as you are distressed, I am at your service; what say you, my lady? Lady Min. However appearances have condemned me, give me leave to disavow the substance of those appearances. My mind has been tainted, but not profligate-your kindness and example may restore me to my former natural English constitution. Sir John. Will you resign your lady to me, my lord, for a time? Lord Min. For ever, dear sir John, without a murmur. Sir John. Well, miss, and what say you? Miss Tit. Guilty, uncle. [Curtsying. Sir John. Guilty! the devil you are? of what? Miss Tit. Of consenting to marry one, whom my heart does not approve, and coquetting with another, which friendship, duty, honour, morals, and every thing, but fashion, ought to have for bidden. Sir John. Thus, then, with the wife of one under this arm, aud the mistress of another under this, I sally forth a knight errant, to rescue distressed damsels from those monsters, foreign vices, and Bon Ton, as they call it; and I trust that every English hand and heart here will assist me in so desperate an undertaking. You'll excuse me, sirs! [Exeunt omnes. SCENE I. ACT I Enter WOODLEY and DIMITY. affairs! Wood. Nay, but listen to reason, Mrs Dimity; has not your master, Mr Drugget, invited me down to his country-seat, in order to give me his daughter Nancy in marriage? and with what pretence can he now break off? indeed; but things are altered now-you mast address the old people, sir; and never trouble your head about your mistress-None of your letters, and verses, and soft looks, and fine speeches Have compassion, thou angelic creature, on a poor dying'-Pshaw! stuff! nonsense! all out of fashion-go your ways to the old curmudgeon; humour his whims I shall esteem it an honour, sir, to be allied to a gentleman of your rank and taste.' Upon my word, he's a pretty young gentleman.' Then, wheel about to the mother: Your daughter, madam, is the very model of you, and I shall adore her for your sake.' Here, come hither, Nancy, take this genWood. You do me injustice, Mrs Dimity- tleman for better or worse.' La, mamma, I can your advice has governed my whole conduct-never consent.'- I should not have thought Have not I fixed an interest in the young lady's heart? 1 Dim. What pretence!-you put a body out of all patience-But go on your own way, sir; my advice is all lost upon you. of your consent--the consent of your relations is enough why, how now, hussy! So, away you Dim. An interest in a fiddlestick! you ought go to church, the knot is tied, an agreeable hoto have made love to the father and mother-ney-moon follows, the charm is then dissolved; what, do you think the way to get a wife, at this time of day, is by speaking fiue things to the lady you have a fancy for?-That was the practice, you go to all the clubs in St James's street: your lady goes to the Coterie; and, in a little time, you both go to Doctor's Commons; and, if faults on both sides prevent a divorce, you'll quarrel million of reasons-To-morrow is fixed for the like contrary elements all the rest of your lives:wedding-day; sir Charles and his lady are to be that's the way of the world now. Wood. But you know, my dear Dimity, the old couple have received every mark of attention from me. here this very night; they are engaged indeed at a great route in town, but they take a bed here, notwithstanding. The family is sitting up for them; Mr Drugget will keep you all up in the next room there, till they arrive; and tomorrow the business is over; and yet you don't despair! hush! hold your tongue; here comes Dim. Attention! to be sure you did not fall asleep in their company; but what then? You should have entered into their characters, played with their humours, and sacrificed to their absur-Lovelace. Step in, and I'll advise something, I dities. Wood. But if my temper is too frank warrant you. [Exit WOODLEY.] The old folks Enter DRUGGET and LOVELACE. Dim. Frank, indeed! yes, you have been frank enough to ruin yourself. Have you not to do with a rich old shopkeeper, retired from business with an hundred thousand pounds in his pocket, to enjoy the dust of the London road, which he calls living in the country--and yet you must find fault with his situation! What if he has made a ridiculous gimcrack of his house and gardens, Love. Oh! perfectly, sir; they gratify my you know his heart is set upon it; and could not taste of all things. One sees villas, where nayou commend his taste? But you must be too ture reigns in a wild kind of simplicity; but frank! Those walks and alleys are too regular-then, they have no appearance of art—no art those evergreens should not be cut into such fantastic shapes! And thus you advise a poor old mechanic, who delights in every thing that's monstrous, to follow nature-Oh, you are likely to be a successful lover! Wood. But why should I not save a father-inlaw from being a laughing stock? Dim. Make him your father-in-law first. Wood. Why, he can't open his windows for the dust---he stands all day looking through a pane of glass at the carts and stage-coaches as they pass by; and he calls that living in the fresh air, and enjoying his own thoughts! Dim. And could not you let him go on in his own way? You have ruined yourself by talking sense to him; and all your nonsense to the daughter won't make amends for it. And then the mother; how have you played your cards in hat quarter?---She wants a tinsel man of fashion for her second daughter-- Don't you see,' (says she) 'how happy my eldest girl is made by marrying sir Charles Racket? She has been married three entire weeks, and not so much as one angry word has passed between them Nancy shall have a man of quality, too!' Wood. And yet I know sir Charles Racket perfectly well. at all. Drug. Very true, rightly distinguished ;now, mine is all art; no wild nature here; I did it myself.. Love. What! had you none of the great proficients in gardening to assist you? Drug. Lack-a-day! no-ha, ha! I understand these things-I love my garden. The front of my house, Mr Lovelace, is not that very pretty? Love. Elegant to a degree! Drug. Don't you like the sun-dial, placed just by my dining-room windows? Love. A perfect beauty! Drug. I knew you'd like it—and the motto is so well adapted-Tempus edax & index rerum. And I know the meaning of it-Time cateth, and discovereth all things--ha, ha! pretty, Mr Lovelace?-I have seen people so stare at it as they pass by-ha, ha! Love. Why now, I don't believe there's a nobleman in the kingdom has such a thing? Drug. Oh no-they have got into a false taste. I bought that bit of ground, the other side of the road-and it looks very pretty-L made a duck-pond there, for the sake of the prospect. Love. Charmingly imagined! Drug. My leaden images are well- Dim. Yes, so do I; and I know he'll make his lady wretched at last. But what then? You should have humoured the old folks; you should have been a talking, empty fop, to the good old Drug. I love to be surprised at the turning of lady; and to the old gentleman, an admirer of a walk with an inanimate figure, that looks you his taste in gardening. But you have lost him: full in the face, and can say nothing to you, he is grown fond of this beau Lovelace, who is while one is enjoying one's own thoughts--ha, here in the house with him; the coxcomb ingra-ha!--Mr Lovelace, I'll point out a beauty to tiates himself by flattery, and you are undone by frankness! you-Just by the haw-haw, at the end of my ground, there is a fine Dutch figure, with a scythe in his hand, and a pipe in his mouth-that's a Wood. And yet, Dimity, I won't despair. 4 F Love. That escaped me: a thousand thanks for pointing it out-I observe you have two very fine yew-trees before the house. Drug. Lack-a-day, sir, they look uncouthI have a design about them--I intend---ha, ha! it will be very pretty, Mr Lovelace--I intend to have them cut into the shape of the two giants at Guildhall---ha, ha! Love. Nobody understands these things like you, Mr Drugget. Nan. Well, Dimity, what's to become of me? Drug. Lack-a-day! it's all my delight now ---this is what I have been working for. I have a great improvement to make still---I propose to---I thought you were gone to bed! have my evergreens cut into fortifications; and then I shall have the Moro Castle, and the Havanna; and then near it shall be ships of myrtle, sailing upon seas of box to attack the town: won't that make my place look very rural, Mr Lovelace? Love. Why you have the most fertile inven-ed at such a thing. tion, Mr Drugget Dim. My stars! what makes you up, Miss? Nan. What should I go to bed for? Only to tumble and toss, and fret, and be uneasy----they are going to marry me, and I am frighted out of my wits. Drug. Ha, ha! this is what I have been working for. I love my garden-but I must beg your pardon for a few moments. I must step and speak with a famous nursery-man, who is come to offer me some choice things.---Do, go and join the company, Mr Lovelace- -my daughter Racket and sir Charles will be here presently- -I shan't go to bed till I see them -ha, ha!my place is prettily variegated -this is what I have been working for-I fined for sheriff to enjoy these things--ha, ha! [Exit. Love. Poor Mr Drugget! Mynheer Van Thundertentrunck, in his little box at the side of a dike, has as much taste and eleganceHowever, if I can but carry off his daughter, if I can but rob his garden of that flower—why, I then shall say, This is what I have been working for!' Dim. Why then, you're the only young lady, within fifty miles round, that would be frighten Nan. Ah! if they would let me chuse for my self. Dim. Don't you like Mr Lovelace? Nan. My mamma does, but I don't; I don't mind his being a man of fashion, not I. Dim. And, pray, can you do better than follow the fashion? Nan. Ah! I know there's a fashion for new bonnets, and a fashion for dressing the hairbut I never heard of a fashion for the heart. Dim. Why then, my dear, the heart mostly follows the fashion now. Nan. Does it!--pray who sets the fashion of the heart? Dim. All the fine ladies in London, o' my couscience. Nan. And what's the last new fashion, pray? Dim. Why, to marry any fop, that has a few deceitful, agreeable appearances about him; something of a pert phrase, a good operator for the teeth, and tolerable tailor. Nan. And do they marry without loving? Dim. Oh! marrying for love has been a great while out of fashion. Nan. Why, then, I'll wait, till that fashion comes up again. Dim. And then, Mr Lovelace, I reckon― Nan. Pshaw! I don't like him: he talks to me as if he was the most miserable man in the world, and the confident thing looks so pleased with himself all the while! I want to marry for love, and not for card-playing---I should not be able to bear the life my sister leads with sir Charles Racket--and I'll forfeit my new cap, if they don't quarrel soon. Dim. Oh fie! no! they won't quarrel yet a while. A quarrel in three weeks after marriage would be somewhat of the quickest--By and by we shall hear of their whims and their humours. Well, but if you don't like Mr Lovelace, what say you to Mr Woodley? |