Pet. There was no quarrel-there might The sun's a good pimple, an honest soaker, have been a quarrel. he has a cellar at your Antipodes. If I travel, Wit. If there had been words enow be- aunt, I touch at your Antipodes-your Antitween 'em to have express'd provocation, they podes are a good rascally sort of topsy-turvy had gone together by the ears like a pair of fellows; if I had a bumper I'd stand upon my

castanets.

Pet. You were the quarrel.

Mrs. Mill. Me!

Pet. If I have the humour to quarrel, I can make less matters conclude premises,-if you are not handsome, what then, if I have a humour to prove it?-if I shall have my reward, say so; if not, fight for your face the next time yourself-I'll go sleep.

head and drink a health to 'em.-A match or no match, cousin with the hard name?-Aunt, Wilfull will do't.

Mrs. Mill. Your pardon, madam, I can stay no longer-sir Wilfull grows very powerful. I shall be overcome if I stay. Come, cousin. [Exeunt Mrs. Millamant and Mrs. Fainall. Lady W. He would poison a tallow-chandler and his family. Beastly creature, I know not Wit. Do, wrap thyself up like a woodlouse, what to do with him.-Travel quoth a! ay, and dream revenge- and hear me, if thou travel, travel, get thee gone, get thee gone, canst learn to write by to-morrow morning, get thee but far enough, to the Saracens, or pen me a challenge-I'll carry it for thee. the Tartars, or the Turks- for thou art not Pet. Carry your mistress's monkey a spider, fit to live in a Christian commonwealth, thou -go flea dogs, and read romances-I'll go to beastly pagan. bed to my maid. [Exit. Sir W. Turks! no; no Turks, aunt; your Turks are infidels, and believe not in the grape. Your Mahometan, your Musselman is a dry stinkard - No offence, aunt. My map says that your Turk is not so honest a man as your Christian-I cannot find by the map that your Mufty is orthodox-whereby it is a plain case, that orthodox is a hard word, aunt, and (hiccup) Greek for claret. [Sings.

Mrs. F. He's horridly drunk-how came you all in this pickle?

Wit. A plot, a plot, to get rid of the knight, -Your husband's advice; but he sneak'd off. Enter SIR WILFULL, drunk, and LADY WISHFORT.

Lady W. Out upon't, out upon't! at years of discretion, and comport yourself at this rantipole rate!

Sir W. No offence, aunt.

Lady W. Offence? as I'm a person, I'm ashamed of you-fogh! how you stink of wine! d'ye think my niece will ever endure such a Borachio? you're an absolute Borachio.

Sir W. Borachio! Lady W. At a time when should commence an amour, and put your bes foot fore

most

you

Sir W. 'Sheart, an you grutge me your fi-
quor, make a bill-give me more drink, and
take my purse.
[Sings.

Pr'ythee fill me the glass
'Till it laugh in my face,
With ale that is potent and mellow;
He that whines for a lass

Is an ignorant ass,

For a bumper has not its fellow.

But if you would have me marry my cousin, say the word, and I'll do't-Wilfull will do't, that's the word,-Wilfull will do't, that's my crest-my motto I have forgot.

To drink is a Christian diversion,
Unknown to the Turk or the Persian:
Let Mahometan fools

Live by heathenish rules,

And be damn'd over tea-cups and coffee,
But let British lads sing,

Crown a health to the king,
And a fig for your sultan and Sophi.

Enter FOIBLE, and whispers LADY WISHFORT.
Eh, Tony!

Lady W. Sir Rowland impatient? good lack! what shall I do with this beastly tumbrill?— go lie down and sleep, you sot-or, as I'm a person, I'll have you bastinadoed with broomsticks. Call up the wenches with broomsticks.

Sir W. Ahey? wenches, where are the wenches?

Lady W. Dear cousin Witwould, get him away, and you will bind me to you inviolably. I have an affair of moment that invades me with some precipitation-you will oblige me to all futurity.

Wit. Come, knight-plague on him, I don't Lady W. My nephew's a little overtaken, know what to say to him-will you go to a cousin but 'tis with drinking your health-cock-match? O' my word, you are obliged to him

Sir W. With a wench, Tony?

Sir W. In vino veritas, aunt: if I drunk Wit. Horrible! he has a breath like a bagyour health to day, cousin,-I am a Borachio. pipe-Ay, ay, come will you march, my SaBut if you have a mind to be married, say lopian?

the word, and send for the piper; Wilfull Sir W. Lead on, little Tony-I'll follow thee, will do't. If not, dust it away, and let's have my Anthony, my Tanthony; sirrah, thou shalt l'other round-Tony, ods-heart, where's To-be my Tantony, and I'll be thy pig.. ny?-Tony's an honest fellow, but he spits And a fig for your sultan and Sophi. after a bumper, and that's a fault. [Sings.

We'll drink, and we'll never ha' done, boys.
Put the glass then around with the sun, boys.
Let Apollo's example invite us;

For he's drunk ev'ry night,
And that makes him so bright,
That he's able next morning to light us.

[Exeunt Sir Wilfull, Witwould, and Foible.
Lady W. This will never do. It will never
make a match-at least before he has been
abroad.

Enter WAITWELL, disguised as for SIR
ROWLAND.

Dear sir Rowland, I am confounded with

confusion at the retrospection of my own rude

You are all camness. I have more pardons to ask than the phire and frankincense, all chastity and odour. pope distributes in the year of jubilee. But I hope where there is likely to be so alliance, we may unbend the severity of decorum and dispense with a little ceremony.

near an

Wait. Dear madam, no.

Lady W. Or that

Enter FOIBLE.

Foi. Madam, the dancers are ready, and Wait. My impatience, madam, is the effect there's one with a letter, who must deliver it of my transport; and till I have the possession into your own hands.

of

your adorable person, I am tantalized on Lady W. Sir Rowland, will you give me the rack; and do but hang, madam, on the leave? think favourably, judge candidly, and tenter of expectation. conclude you have found a person who would Lady W. You have excess of gallantry, sir suffer racks in honour's cause, dear sir RowRowland; and press things to a conclusion, land, and will wait on you incessantly. [Exil with a most prevailing vehemence-But a day Wait. Fie, fie! - What a slavery have 1 or two, for decency of marriage. undergone! Spouse, hast thou any cordial? 1 want spirits.

Wait. For decency of funeral, madam. The delay will break my heart-or if that should Foi. What a washy rogue art thou to pant fail, I shall be poison'd. My nephew will get thus for a quarter of an hour's lying and an inkling of my designs and poison me, swearing to a fine lady! and I would willingly starve him before I die Wait. O, she is the antidote to desire. By -I would gladly go out of the world with this hand, I'd rather be a chairman in the dogthat satisfaction. That would be some com- days-than act sir Rowland till this time tofort to me, if I could but live so long as to be revenged on that unnatural viper.

morrow.

Lady W. Is he so unnatural, say you? truly Enter LADY WISHFORT, with a Letter. I would contribute much both to the saving Lady W. Call in the dancers;-sir Rowland, of your life, and the accomplishment of your we'll sit, if you please, and see the entertainment. revenge. Not that I respect myself; though [Dance.] Now with your permission, sir he has been a perfidious wretch to me. Rowland, I will peruse my letter I would Wait. Perfidious to you! open it in your presence, because I would not Lady W. O sir Rowland, the hours that he make you uneasy. If it should make you uneasy has died away at my feet, the tears that he I would burn it-speak if it does- but you has shed, the oaths that he has sworn, the may see, the superscription is like a woman's palpitations that he has felt, the trances and hand.

tremblings, the ardours and the ecstasies, the Foi. By heaven! Mrs. Marwood's. I know kneelings and the risings, the heart-heavings it. My heart aches-get it from her. [To him. and the hand-gripings, the pangs and the pa- Wait. A woman's hand? No, madam, that's thetic regards of his protesting eyes! Oh, no no woman's hand, I see that already. That's memory can register. somebody whose throat must be cut.

my

Wait. What, my rival! is the rebel Lady W. Nay, sir Rowland, since you give rival? a'dies. me a proof of your passion by your jealousy, Lady W. No, don't kill him at once, sir I promise you I'll make a return, by a frank Rowland; starve him gradually, inch by inch. communication-You shall see it-we'll open Wait. I'll do't. In three weeks he shall it together-look you here. [Reads]— Mabe barefoot; in a month out at knees with dam, though unknown to you. Look you begging an alms-he shall starve upward and there, 'tis from nobody that I know.-I have upward, till he has nothing living but his head, that honour for your character, that I think and then go out like a candle's end upon a myself obliged to let you know you are saveall.1) abused. He who pretends to be sir RowLady W. Well, sir Rowland, you have the land is a cheat and a rascal—O heavens! way-you are no novice in the labyrinth of what's this?

love-you have the clue-But as I am a per- Foi. Unfortunate, all's ruin'dI

son, sir Rowland, you must not attribute my Wait. How, how! let me see, let me see yielding to any sinister appetite, or indigestion-reading, A rascal and disguised, and subof widowhood; nor impute my complacency orn'd for that imposture-Ö villany! O vilto any lethargy of continence-I hope you do lany!-By the contrivance ofnot think me prone to any iteration of nuptials. Lady W. I shall faint, I shall die, ho! Wait. Far be it from meFoi. Say 'tis your nephew's hand.—Quickly,

Lady W. If you do, I protest I must re- his plot, swear it, swear it. cede, or think that I have made a prostitution of decorums; but in the vehemence of com- perceive it, don't you see it? passion, and to save the life of a person of so

Wait. Here's a villain! madam; don't you

much importance

Wait. I esteem it so

Lady W. Too well, too well. I have seen too much.

Wait. I told you at first I knew the hand

Lady W. Or else you wrong my condes--A woman's hand? The rascal writes a sort

of a large hand; your Roman hand-I saw there was a throat to be cut presently. If he were my son, as he is my nephew, I'd pistol him.

Foi. O treachery! But are you sure, sir Rowland, it is his writing?

Wait. Sure? Am I here? Do I live? Do I

love this pearl of India? I have twenty letters ger. Go, hang out an old frisoneer-gorget, in my pocket from him, in the same character. with a yard of yellow colberteen again; do; Lady W. How! an old gnaw'd mask, two rows of pins, and a Foi. O what luck it is, sir Rowland, that child's fiddle; a glass necklace, with the beads you were present at this juucture! this was broken, and a quilted nightcap with one ear. the business that brought Mr. Mirabell dis- Go, go, drive a trade.-These were your comguised to madam Millamant this afternoon. Imodities, you treacherous trull; this was the thought something was contriving, when he merchandize you dealt in, when I took you stole by me and would have hid his face. into my house, placed you next myself, and Lady V. How, how!-I heard the villain made you governante of my whole family. was in the house indeed; and now I remem-You have forgot this, have you, now you have ber, my niece went away abruptly, when sir feathered your nest? Wilfull was to have made his addresses.

Foi. No, no, dear madam. Do but hear Foi. Then, then, madam, Mr. Mirabell waited me, have but a moment's patience-I'll confess for her in her chamber; but I would not tell all. Mr. Mirabell seduced me; I am not the your ladyship, to discompose you when you first that he has wheedled with his dissemwere to receive sir Rowland. bling tongue; your ladyship's own wisdom has been deluded by him, then how should I,

Wait. Enough, his date is short.

Foi. No, good sir Rowland, don't incur the a poor ignorant, defend myself? O madam, if you knew but what he promised me, and

law.

Wait. Law! I care not for law. I can but how he assured me your ladyship should come die, and 'tis in a good cause-My lady shall to no damage-or else the wealth of the Indies be satisfied of my truth and innocence, though|should not have bribed me to conspire against it cost me my life. so good, so sweet, so kind a lady as you have been to me.

Lady W. No damage! What, to betray me, and marry me to a cast serving-man? No damage! O thou frontless impudence!

Lady W. No, dear sir Rowland, don't fight; if you should be killed I must never show my face; or hang'd-O consider my reputation, sir Kowland-No, you shan't fight-I'll go in and examine my niece; I'll make her confess. Foi. Pray do but hear me, madam! he could I conjure you, sir Rowland, by all your love, not marry your ladyship, madam-no, indeed, not to fight. his marriage was to have been void in law; Wait. I am charm'd, madam; I obey. But for he was married to me first, to secure your some proof you must let me give you; -I'll ladyship. Yes, indeed, I inquired of the law go for a black box, which contains the writ-in that case before I would meddle or make. ings of my whole estate, and deliver that into Lady W. What, then I have been your pro

your hands.

Lady W. Ay, dear sir Rowland, that be some comfort; bring the black box.

Wait. And may I presume to bring a tract to be sign'd this night? May I hope

perty, have 1? I have been convenient to you, will it seems,-while you were catering for Mira

bell, I have been broker for you? This exceeds con- all precedent; I am brought to fine uses, to so become a botcher of secondhand marriages befar? tween Abigails and Andrews! I'll couple you. Lady W. Bring what you will; but come Yes, I'll baste you together, you and your alive, pray come alive. O this is a happy dis- Philander. I'll Duke's-place you, as I'm a person. Your turtle is in custody already: Wait. Dead or alive I'll come-and married you shall coo in the same cage, if there be a we will be in spite of treachery. Come, my constable or warrant in the parish. [Exit. buxom widow: Foi. O that ever I was born! O that I was ever married!—a bride, ay, I shall be a Bridewell bride, oh!

covery.

Ere long you shall substantial proof receive
That I'm an arrant knight-
Foi. Or arrant knave.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The same.

[Exeunt.

Enter LADY WISHFORT and FOIBLE.

Enter MRS. FAINALL.

Mrs. F. Poor Foible, what's the matter?

Foi. O madam, my lady's gone for a constable; I shall be had to a justice, and put to Bridewell to beat hemp; poor Waitwell's gone to prison already.

Lady W. Out of my house, out of my house, thou viper, thou serpent, that I have foster'd; Mrs. F. Have a good heart, Foible; Mirathou bosom traitress, that I raised from no-bell's gone to give security for him. This is thing-Begone, begone, begone, go, go-That all Marwood's and my husband's doing. I took from washing of old gause and wea- Foi. Yes, yes, I know it, madam; she was ving of dead hair, with a bleak blue nose, in my lady's closet, and overheard all that you over a chaffing-dish of starved embers, and said to me before dinner. She sent the letter dining behind a traverse-rag, in a shop no to my lady; and that missing effect, Mr. Fainbigger than a bird-cage,—go, go, starve again, all laid this plot to arrest Waitwell, when do, do. he pretended to go for the papers; and in the Foi. Dear madam, I'll beg pardon on my mean time Mrs. Marwood declared all to my knees. lady.

Lady W. Away, out, out, go set up for Mrs. F. Was there no mention made of yourself again-do, drive a trade, do, with me in the letter?- My mother does not susyour three-pennyworth of small ware, flaunt-pect my being in the confederacy; I fancy ing upon a pack-thread, under a brandyseller's Marwood has not told her, though she has bulk, or against a dead wall by a ballad-mon- told my husband.

Foi. Yes, madam; but my lady did not see retire by ourselves, and be shepherdesses. that part: we stifled the letter before she read so far. Has that mischievous devil told Mr. Fainall of your ladyship then?

Mrs. Mar. Let us first dispatch the affair in hand, madam. We shall have leisure to think of retirement afterwards. Here is one who is

Mrs. F. Ay, all's out; my affair with Mi- concern'd in the treaty. rabell, every thing discovered. This is the last Lady W. O daughter, daughter, is it pos day of our living together, that's my comfort. sible thou shouldst be my child, bone of my Foi. Indeed! madam; and so 'tis a comfort bone, and flesh of my flesh, and, as I may if you knew all-he has been even with your say, another me, and yet transgress the minute ladyship; which I could have told you long particle of severe virtue? Is it possible you enough since, but I love to keep peace and should lean aside to iniquity, who have been quietness by my good will: I had rather bring cast in the direct mould of virtue? friends together, than set them at distance. Mrs. F. I don't understand your ladyship. But Mrs. Marwood and he are nearer related Lady W. Not understand! why, have you than ever their parents thought for. not been naught? have you not been sophisticated?-not understand? here I am ruined to compound for your caprices; I must part with my plate and my jewels, and ruin my niece, and all little enough

Mrs. F. Say'st thou so, Foible? Canst thou prove this?

Mrs. F. I am wrong'd and abused, and so are you. 'Tis a false accusation; as false as your friend there, ay, or your friend's friend,

Foi. I can take my oath of it, madam, so can Mrs. Mincing; we have had many a fair word from madam Marwood, to conceal something that passed in our chamber one evening when we were at Hyde-park; - and we were thought to have gone a walking: but we my false husband. went up unawares - though we were sworn Mrs. Mar. My friend, Mrs. Fainall? your to secrecy too; madam Marwood took a book husband my friend! what do you mean? and swore us both upon it: but it was but a Mrs. F. I know what I mean, madam, and book of poems. So long as it was not a Bible so do you; and so shall the world at a time oath, we may break it with a safe conscience. convenient. Mrs. F. This discovery is the most opportune thing I could wish-Now, Mincing!

Enter MINCING.

Mrs. Mar. I am sorry to see you so passionate, madam. More temper would look more like innocence. But I have done. I am sorry my zeal to serve your ladyship and faMin. My lady would speak with Mrs. Foi-mily should admit of misconstruction, or make ble, mem. Mr. Mirabell is with her; he has me liable to affronts. You will pardon me, set your spouse at liberty, Mrs. Foible, and madam, if I meddle no more with an affair, would have you hide yourself in my lady's in which I am not personally concern'd. closet, till my old lady's anger is abated. O, Lady W. O dear friend, I am so ashamed my old lady is in a perilous passion, at some- that you should meet with such returns;-you thing Mr. Fainall has said; he swears, and ought to ask pardon on your knees, ungrate my old lady cries. There's a fearful hurricane, ful creature; she deserves more from you He says, mem, how that he'll have than all your life can accomplish-O don't my lady's fortune made over to him, or he'll leave me destitute in this perplexity;—no, stick be divorced. to me, my good genius. Mrs. F. I tell you, madam, you're abused -Stick to you? ay, like a leach, to suck your Min. Yes, mem, they have sent me to see best blood-she'll drop of when she's fuli. if sir Wilfull be sober, and to bring him to Madam, you shan't pawn a bodkin, nor part them. My lady is resolved to have him, I with a brass counter, in composition for me. think, rather than lose such a vast sum as six I defy 'em all. Let 'em prove their aspersions: thousand pounds. O, come Mrs. Foible, I know my own innocence, and dare stand hear my old lady. a trial.

I vow.

Mrs. F. Does your lady or Mirabell know

that?

Mrs. F. Foible, you must tell Mincing, that she must prepare to vouch when I call her. Foi. Yes, yes, madam.

Min. O, yes, mem, I'll vouch any thing for your ladyship's service, be what it will.

[Exit Lady W. Why, if she should be innocent, if she should be wrong'd after all, ha? I don't know what to think-and I promise you, her education has been very unexceptionable-1 may say it; for I chiefly made it my own [Exeunt Foible and Mincing. care to initiate her very infancy in the rudiments of virtue, and to impress upon her tenEnter LADY WISHFORT and MRS. MARWOOD. der years a young odium and aversion to the Lady W. O my dear friend, how can I very sight of men-ay, friend, she would ha enumerate the benefits that I have received shriek'd if she had but seen a man, till be from your goodness? To you I owe the timely was in her teens. As I'm a person 'tis true. discovery of the false vows of Mirabell; to-She was never suffer'd to play with a maleyou I owe the detection of the impostor sir child, though but in coats; nay, her very ba Rowland and now you are become an inter-bies were of the feminine gender.-O, she never cessor with my son-in-law, to save the honour look'd a man in the face, but her own father, of my house, and compound for the frailties or the chaplain; and him we made a shift to of my daughter. Well, friend, you are enough put upon her for a woman, by the help of to reconcile me to the bad world, or else I his long garments and his sleek face; till she would retire to deserts and solitudes, and feed was going in her fifteen.

harmless sheep by groves and purling streams. Mrs. Mar. 'Twas much she should be deDear Marwood, let us leave the world, and ceived so long.

Fain. Next, my wife shall settle on me the remainder of her fortune, not made over already; and for her maintenance depend entirely on my discretion.

Lady W. I warrant you, or she would never| Mrs. Mar. That condition, I dare answer, have borne to have been catechized by him; my lady will consent to, without difficulty; and have heard his long lectures against sing-she has already but too much experienced the ing and dancing, and such debaucheries; and perfidiousness of men. Besides, madam, when going to filthy plays, and profane music-meet- we retire to our pastoral solitude, we shall ings. O, she would have swoon'd at the sight bid adieu to all other thoughts. or name of an obscene play-book—and can I Lady W. Ay, that's true. think, after all this, that my daughter can be naught? What, a whore? and thought it excommunication to set her foot within the door of a playhouse. O dear friend, I can't believe it. No, no; as she says, let him prove it, let Lady W. This is most inhumanly savage; him prove it. exceeding the barbarity of a Muscovite husband. Mrs. Mar. Prove it, madam? what, and Fain. I learn'd it from his czarish majesty's have your name prostituted in a public court; retinue, in a winter evening's conference over yours and your daughter's reputation worried brandy and pepper, amongst other secrets of at the bar by a pack of bawling lawyers; to matrimony and policy, as they are at present be ushered in with an O-yes) of scandal; practised in the northern hemisphere. But this and have your case opened by an old fumbler must be agreed unto, and that positively. Lastly, in a coif like a man-midwife, to bring your I will be endow'd, in right of my wife, with daughter's infamy to light; to be a theme for that six thousand pounds, which is the moiety legal punsters, and quibblers by the statute; of Mrs. Millamant's fortune in your possesand become a jest, against a rule of court, sion; and which she has forfeited (as will apwhere there is no precedent for a jest in any pear by the last will and testament of your record; not even in Doomsday-book; to dis-deceased husband, sir Jonathan Wishfort), by compose the gravity of the bench, and provoke her disobedience in contracting herself against naughty interrogatories in more naughty law your consent or knowledge; and by refusing the offer'd match with sie Wilfull Witwould, which you, like a careful aunt, had provided

Latin.

Lady W. O, tis very

hard! Mrs. Mar. And then to have my young re-for her. vellers of the Temple take notes, like 'prentices at a conventicle; and after talk it over again in commons, or before drawers in an eating-house.

Lady W. My nephew was non compos, and could not make his addresses. Fain. I come to make demands-I'll hear no objections.

Lady W. You will grant me time to con

Lady W. Worse and worse. Mrs. Mar. Nay, this is nothing; if it would sider? end here were well. But it must after this Fain. Yes, while the instrument is drawing, be consign'd by the short-hand writers to the to which you must set your hand till more public press; and from thence be transferr'd sufficient deeds can be perfected, which I will to the hands, nay, into the throats and lungs take care shall be done with all possible speed. of hawkers, with voices more licentious than In the mean while I will go for the said inthe loud flounder-man's; 2) and this you must strument, and till my return you may balance hear till you are stunn'd; nay, you must hear this matter in your own discretion. [Exit. nothing else for some days.

Lady W. O,'tis insupportable! No, no, dear friend, make it up, make it up; ay, ay, I'll compound. I'll give up all, myself and my all, my niece and her all-any thing, every thing, for composition.

Lady W. This insolence is beyond all precedent, all parallel; must I be subject to this merciless villain?

Mrs. Mar. 'Tis severe indeed, madam, that you should smart for your daughter's failings. Lady W. Twas against my consent that Mrs. Mar. Nay, madam, I advise nothing; she married this barbarian; but she would have I only lay before you, as a friend, the incon- him, though her year was not out- Ah! her veniences which perhaps you have overseen. first husband, my son Languish, would not Here comes Mr. Fainall; if he will be satis-have carried it thus. Well, that was my fied to huddle up all in silence, I shall be glad. choice, this is hers; she is match'd now with You must think I would rather congratulate a witness-I shall be mad, dear friend; is there than condole with you.

Enter FAINALL.

Lady W. Ay, ay, I do not doubt it, dear Marwood: : no, no, I do not doubt it.

Fain. Well, madam; I have suffer'd myself to be overcome by the importunity of this lady your friend; and am content you shall enjoy your own proper estate during life; on condition you oblige yourself never to marry, under such penalty as I think convenient. Lady W. Never to marry!

no comfort for me? Must I live to be confiscated at this rebel-rate?-Here come two more of my Egyptian plagues too.

Fain. No more sir Rowlands-the next im-ling to make satisfaction; and what can a man posture may not be so timely detected,

1) Oyez (Hear ye) from Ouir.

2) One of the melodious cries of London, understood only by the happy few.

say fairer? If I have broke any thing I'll pay for't, an it cost a pound. And so let that content for what's past, and make no more words. For what's to come, to pleasure you