Part 16

_Const._ An't please your Worship, this here comical sort of a Gentlewoman has committed great Outrages to-night. She has been frolicking with my Lord _Rake_ and his Gang; they attacked the Watch, and I hear there has been a Man kill'd: I believe 'tis they have done it.

_Sir John._ Sir, there may have been Murder, for aught I know; and 'tis a great Mercy there has not been a Rape too--that Fellow wou'd have ravish'd me.

_2d Watch._ Ravish! Ravish! O lud! O lud! O lud! Ravish her! Why, please your Worship, I heard Mr. Constable say he believed she was little better than a Maphrodite.

_Just._ Why, truly, she does seem a little masculine about the Mouth.

_2d Watch._ Yes, and about the Hands too, an't please your Worship; I did but offer in mere civility to help her up the Steps into our Apartment, and with her gripen Fist--ay, just so, Sir.

[_Sir ~John~ knocks him down._

_Sir John._ I fell'd him to the Ground like an Ox.

_Just._ Out upon this boisterous Woman! Out upon her.

_Sir John._ Mr. Justice, he wou'd have been uncivil! It was in Defence of my Honour, and I demand Satisfaction.

_2d Watch._ I hope your Worship will satisfy her Honour in Bridewell; that Fist of hers will make an admirable Hemp-beater.

_Sir John._ Sir, I hope you will protect me against that libidinous Rascal; I am a Woman of Quality and Virtue too, for all I am in an Undress this Morning.

_Just._ Why, she has really the Air of a Sort of a Woman a little something out of the common----Madam, if you expect I shou'd be favourable to you, I desire I may know who you are.

_Sir John._ Sir, I am any body, at your Service.

_Just._ Lady, I desire to know your Name?

_Sir John._ Sir, my Name's _Mary_.

_Just._ Ay, but your Sur-name, Madam?

_Sir John._ Sir, my Sur-name's the very same with my Husband's.

_Just._ A strange Woman this! Who is your Husband, pray?

_Sir John._ Sir _John_.

_Just._ Sir _John_ who?

_Sir John._ Sir _John Brute_.

_Just._ Is it possible, Madam, you can be my Lady _Brute_?

_Sir John._ That happy Woman, Sir, am I; only a little in my Merriment to-night.

_Just._ I am concern'd for Sir _John_.

_Sir John._ Truly, so am I.

_Just._ I have heard he's an honest Gentleman----

_Sir John._ As ever drank.

_Just._ Good lack! Indeed, Lady, I'm sorry he has such a Wife.

_Sir John._ I am sorry he has any Wife at all.

_Just._ And so perhaps may he----I doubt you have not given him a very good Taste of Matrimony.

_Sir John._ Taste, Sir! Sir, I have scorn'd to stint him to a Taste, I have given him a full Meal of it.

_Just._ Indeed I believe so! But pray, fair Lady, may he have given you any Occasion for this extraordinary Conduct?--Does he not use you well?

_Sir John._ A little upon the rough sometimes.

_Just._ Ay, any Man may be out of Humour now and then.

_Sir John._ Sir, I love Peace and Quiet, and when a Woman don't find that at home, she's apt sometimes to comfort herself with a few innocent Diversions abroad.

_Just._ I doubt he uses you but too well. Pray how does he as to that weighty thing, Money? Does he allow you what is proper of that?

_Sir John._ Sir, I have generally enough to pay the reckoning, if this Son of a Whore of a Drawer wou'd but bring his Bill.

_Just._ A strange Woman this--Does he spend a reasonable Portion of his time at home, to the Comfort of his Wife and Children?

_Sir John._ He never gave his Wife cause to repine at his being abroad in his Life.

_Just._ Pray, Madam, how may he be in the grand matrimonial Point----Is he true to your Bed?

_Sir John._ Chaste! Oons! This Fellow asks so many impertinent Questions! I'gad, I believe it is the Justice's Wife in the Justice's Clothes.

_Just._ 'Tis a great pity he should have been thus disposed of--Pray, Madam, (and then I've done) what may be your Ladyship's common Method of Life, if I may presume so far?

_Sir John._ Why, Sir, much that of a Woman of Quality.

_Just._ Pray how may you generally pass your time, Madam? Your Morning, for example.

_Sir John._ Sir, like a Woman of Quality----I wake about two o'Clock in the Afternoon----I stretch--and make a sign for my Chocolate----When I have drank three Cups--I slide down again upon my Back, with my Arms over my Head, while my two Maids put on my Stockings----Then hanging upon their Shoulders, I am trail'd to my great Chair, where I sit----and yawn----for my Breakfast----If it don't come presently, I lie down upon my Couch to say my Prayers, while my Maid reads me the Play-bills.

_Just._ Very well, Madam.

_Sir John._ When the Tea is brought in, I drink twelve regular Dishes, with eight Slices of Bread and Butter----And half an Hour after, I send to the Cook to know if the Dinner is almost ready.

_Just._ So! Madam!

_Sir John._ By that time my Head is half drest, I hear my Husband swearing himself into a State of Perdition, that the Meat's all cold upon the Table; to amend which, I come down in an Hour more, and have it sent back to the Kitchen, to be all drest over again.

_Just._ Poor Man!

_Sir John._ When I have din'd, and my idle Servants are presumptuously set down at their Ease, to do so too, I call for my Coach, to go visit fifty dear Friends, of whom I hope I shall never find one at home, while I shall live.

_Just._ So! There's the Morning and Afternoon pretty well dispos'd of--Pray, Madam, how do you pass your Evenings?

_Sir John._ Like a Woman of Spirit, Sir, a great Spirit. Give me a Box and Dice--Seven's the main, Oons! Sir, I set you a hundred Pound! Why, do you think Women are married now-a-Days, to sit at home and mend Napkins? Sir, we have nobler ways of passing time.

_Just._ Mercy upon us, Mr. Constable, what will this Age come to?

_Constab._ What will it come to, indeed, if such Women as these are not set in the Stocks?

_Sir John._ Sir, I have a little urgent Business calls upon me; and therefore I desire the Favour of you to bring Matters to a Conclusion.

_Just._ Madam, if I were sure that Business were not to commit more Disorders, I wou'd release you.

_Sir John._ None----by my virtue.

_Just._ Then, Mr. Constable, you may discharge her.

_Sir John._ Sir, your very humble Servant. If you please to accept of a Bottle----

_Just._ I thank you, kindly, Madam; but I never drink in a Morning. Good by t'ye.

_Sir John._ Good-by-t'ye, good Sir.

[_Exit Justice._

So----now, Mr. Constable, shall you and I go pick up a Whore together?

_Constab._ No, thank you, Madam; my Wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable Man.

_Sir John._ [_Aside._] He, he, he, he, he----the Fool is married, then. Well, you won't go?

_Constab._ Not I, truly.

_Sir John._ Then I'll go by myself; and you and your Wife may be damn'd.

[_Exit Sir ~John~._

_Constable._ _gazing after her._] Why, God-a-mercy, Lady.

[_Exeunt._

_ESOP_:

A

COMEDY.

PREFACE.

To speak for a Play, if it cannot speak for itself, is vain; and if it can, it is needless. For one of these Reasons (I cannot yet tell which, for it is now but the second Day of acting) I resolve to say nothing for _Esop_, though I know he would be glad of Help; for let the best happen that can, his Journey is up Hill, with a dead _English_ Weight at the Tail of him.

At _Paris_, indeed, he scrambled up something faster (for it was up Hill there, too) than I am afraid he will do here: The _French_ having more Mercury in their Heads, and less Beef and Pudding in their Bellies. Our Solidity may set hard, what their Folly makes easy; for Fools I own they are, you know we have found them so in the Conduct of the War; I wish we may do so in the Management of the Peace; but that is neither _Esop_'s Business nor mine.

This Play, Gentlemen (or one not much unlike it), was writ in _French_ about six Years since by one Monsieur _Boursaut_; it was play'd at _Paris_ by the _French_ Comedians, and this was its Fate.

The first Day it appeared, it was routed (People seldom being fond of what they do not understand, their own sweet Persons excepted). The second (by the help of some bold Knights-Errant) it rallied; the third it advanced; the fourth it gave a vigorous Attack; and the fifth put all the Feathers in Town to the scamper, pursuing them on to the fourteenth, and then they cried out Quarter.

It is not reasonable to expect _Esop_ should gain so great a Victory here, since it is possible, by fooling with his Sword, I may have turned the Edge on't. For I confess in the Translation I have not at all stuck to the Original; nay, I have gone farther: I have wholly added the fifth Act, and crouded a Country Gentleman into the fourth; for which I ask Monsieur _Boursaut_'s Pardon with all my Heart, but doubt I never shall obtain it for bringing him into such Company. Though, after all, had I been so complaisant to have waited on his Play Word for Word, it is possible, even that might not have ensured the Success of it; for though it swam in _France_, it might have sunk in _England_. Their Country abounds in Cork, ours in Lead.

PROLOGUE.

_Gallants, we never yet produc'd a Play With greater Fears than this we act to-day; Barren of all the Graces of the Stage, Barren of all that entertains this Age. No Hero, no Romance, no Plot, no Shew, No Rape, no Bawdy, no Intrigue, no Beau: There's nothing in't with which we use to please ye; With downright dull Instruction w'are to tease ye; The Stage turns Pulpit, and the World's so fickle, The Play-House in a Whim turns Conventicle. But Preaching here must prove a hungry Trade; The Patentees will find so, I'm afraid: For tho' with heavenly Zeal you all abound, As by your Lives and Morals may be found; Tho' every Female here o'erflows with Grace, And chaste ~Diana~'s written in her Face; Tho' Maids renounce the Sweets of Fornication, And one lewd Wife's not left in all the Nation; Tho' Men grow true, and the foul Fiend defy; Tho' Tradesmen cheat no more, nor Lawyers lye; Tho' not one Spot be found on ~Levi~'s Tribe, Nor one soft Courtier that will touch a Bribe; Yet in the midst of such religious Days, Sermons have never borne the Price of Plays._

Dramatis Personæ.

MEN.

_Esop_, Mr. _Cibber_. _Learchus_, Governor of _Sysicus_, Mr. _Dogget_. _Oronces_, in love with _Euphronia_, Mr. _Harland_.

WOMEN.

_Euphronia_, Daughter to _Learchus_, in } Mrs. _Temple_. love with _Oronces_, } _Doris_, her Nurse, Mrs. _Verbruggen_.

People who come to _Esop_, upon several Occasions, independent one of another.

Two Country Tradesmen, } Mr. _Pinkethman_ and } Mr. _Smeton_. _Roger_, a Country Bumpkin, Mr. _Haynes_. _Quaint_, a Herald, Mr. _Pinkethman_. _Fruitful_, an Inn-keeper, Mr. _Smeton_. A Country Gentleman, Mr. _Pinkethman_. A Priest, Musicians, &c. _Hortensia_, an affected learned Lady, Mrs. _Kent_. _Aminta_, a lewd Mother, Mrs. _Willis_. _Forge-Will_, a Scrivener's Widow, Mrs. _Finch_. _Fruitful_, Wife to the Inn-keeper, Mrs. _Powell_.

_ESOP._

+ACT+ I. +SCENE+ I.

+SCENE+, Learchus's _House_.

_Enter ~Learchus~, ~Euphronia~, and ~Doris~._

_Lear._ At length I am blest with the sight of the World's Wonder, the Delight of Mankind, the incomparable _Esop_. You had time to observe him last Night, Daughter, as he sat at Supper with me. Tell me how you like him, Child; is he not a charming Person?

_Euph._ Charming!

_Lear._ What say'st thou to him, _Doris_? Thou art a good Judge, a Wench of a nice Palate.

_Dor._ You wou'd not have me flatter, Sir?

_Lear._ No, speak thy Thoughts boldly.

_Dor._ Boldly, you say?

_Lear._ Boldly, I say.

_Dor._ Why, then, Sir, my Opinion of the Gentleman is, that he's uglier than an old Beau.

_Lear._ How! Impudence.

_Dor._ Nay, if you are angry, Sir, second Thoughts are best; he's as proper as a Pikeman, holds up his Head like a Dancing-Master, has the Shape of a Barb, the Face of an Angel, the Voice of a Cherubim, the Smell of a Civet-Cat----

_Lear._ In short, thou art Fool enough not to be pleas'd with him.

_Dor._ Excuse me for that, Sir; I have Wit enough to make myself merry with him----

_Lear._ If his Body's deform'd, his Soul is beautiful: Would to kind Heaven, as he is, my Daughter cou'd but find the means to please him!

_Euph._ To what End, dear Father?

_Lear._ That he might be your Husband, dear Daughter.

_Euph._ My Husband! Shield me, kind Heaven----

_Dor._ Psha! he has a mind to make us laugh, that's all.

_Lear._ _Esop_, then, is not worth her Care, in thy Opinion?

_Dor._ Why, truly, Sir, I'm always for making suitable Matches, and don't much approve of breeding Monsters. I wou'd have nothing marry a Baboon, but what has been got by a Monkey.

_Lear._ How dar'st thou liken so incomparable a Man to so contemptible a Beast?

_Dor._. Ah, the Inconstancy of this World! Out of sight, out f Mind. Your little Monkey is scarce cold in his Grave, and you have already forgot what you us'd so much to admire: Do but call him to remembrance, Sir, in his red Coat, new Gloves, little Hat, and clean Linen; then discharge your Conscience, utter the Truth from your Heart, and tell us whether he was not the prettier Gentleman of the two--By my Virginity, Sir, (tho' that's but a slippery Oath, you'll say) had they made love to me together, _Esop_ should have worn the Willow.

_Lear._ Since nothing but an Animal will please thee, 'tis pity my Monkey had not that Virginity thou hast sworn by. But I, whom Wisdom charms even in the homeliest Dress, can never think the much-deserving _Esop_ unworthy of my Daughter.

_Dor._ Now, in the Name of Wonder, what is't you so admire in him?

_Lear._ Hark, and thou shalt know; but you, _Euphronia_, Be you more especially attentive. 'Tis true he's plain; but that's, my Girl, a Trifle. All manly Beauty's seated in the Soul; And that of _Esop_, Envy's self must own, Outshines whate'er the World has yet produc'd. _Crœsus_, the prosperous Favourite of Heaven; _Crœsus_, the happiest Potentate on Earth; Whose Treasure (tho' immense) is the least Part Of what he holds from Providence's Care, Leans on his Shoulder as his grand Support, Admires his Wisdom, doats upon his Truth, And makes him Pilot to Imperial Sway. But in this elevated Post of Power, What's his Employ? Where does he point his Thoughts? To live in Splendour, Luxury, and Ease, Do endless Mischiefs, by neglecting Good, And build his Family on other's Ruins? No: He serves the Prince, and serves the People too; Is useful to the Rich, and helps the Poor; There's nothing stands neglected, but himself. With constant Pain, and yet with constant Joy, From Place to Place throughout the Realm he goes, With useful Lessons, form'd to every Rank: The People learn Obedience from his Tongue, The Magistrate is guided in Command, The Prince is minded of a Father's Care, The Subjects taught the Duty of a Child. And as 'tis dangerous to be bold with Truth, He often calls for Fable to his Aid, Where, under abject Names of Beasts and Birds, Virtue shines out, and Vice is cloath'd in Shame. And thus, by inoffensive Wisdom's Force, He conquers Folly wheresoe'er he moves: This is his Portrait.

_Dor._ A very good Picture of a very ill Face!

_Lear._ Well, Daughter; what, not a Word? Is it possible any thing that I am Father of can be untouch'd with so much Merit?

_Euph._ My Duty may make all things possible: But _Esop_ is so ugly, Sir--

_Lear._ His Soul has so much Beauty in't, your Reason ought to blind your Eyes: Besides, my Interest is concern'd; his Power alarms me. I know throughout the Kingdom he's the Scourge of evil Magistrates, turns out Governors when they turn Tyrants; breaks Officers for false Musters; excludes Judges from giving Sentence, when they have been absent during the Trial; hangs Lawyers when they take Fees on both Sides; forbids Physicians to take Money of those they don't cure. 'Tis true, my Innocence ought to banish my Fears: But my Government, Child, is too delicious a Morsel, not to set many a frail Mouth a-watering. Who knows what Accusations Envy may produce? But all wou'd be secure, if thou could'st touch the Heart of _Esop_. Let me blow up thy Ambition, Girl; the Fire of that will make thy Eyes sparkle at him. [_She sighs._]----What's that Sigh for, now? Ha! A young Husband, by my Conscience: Ah Daughter, hadst thou a young Husband, he'd make thee sigh indeed. I'll tell thee what he's compos'd of. He has a Wig full of Pulvilio, a Pocket full of Dice, a Heart full of Treason, a Mouth full of Lyes, a Belly full of Drink, a Carcase full of Plaisters, a Tail full of Pox, and a Head full of----nothing. There's his Picture: wear it at thy Heart, if thou can'st but here comes one of greater Worth.

_Enter ~Esop~._

_Lear._ Good Morning to my noble Lord; your Excellency----

_Esop._ Softly, good Governor: I'm a poor Wanderer from Place to Place; too weak to train the Weight of Grandeur with me! The Name of Excellency's not for me.

_Lear._ My noble Lord, 'tis due to your Imploy; your Predecessors all----

_Esop._ My Predecessors all deserv'd it, Sir; they were great Men in Wisdom, Birth and Service; whilst I, a poor, unknown, decrepid Wretch, mounted aloft for Fortune's Pastime, expect each Moment to conclude the Farce, by sinking to the Mud from whence I sprung.

_Lear._ Great _Crœsus_'s Gratitude will still support you; his Coffers all are open to your Will, your future Fortune's wholly in your Power.

_Esop._ But 'tis a Power that I shall ne'er employ.

_Lear._ Why so, my Lord?

_Esop._ I'll tell you, Sir.

_A hungry Goat, who had not eat Some Nights and Days----(for want of Meat) Was kindly brought at last, By Providence's Care, To better Cheer, After a more than penitential Fast. He found a Barn well stor'd with Grain: To enter in requir'd some Pain; But a delicious Bait Makes the Way easy, tho' the Pass is strait. Our Guest observing various Meats, He put on a good modish Face, He takes his Place, He ne'er says Grace, But where he likes, he there falls to and eats. At length, with jaded Teeth and Jaws, He made a Pause; And finding still some room, Fell to as he had done before, For time to come laid in his Store; And when his Guts cou'd hold no more, He thought of going home. But here he met the Glutton's Curse; He found his Belly grown so great, 'Twas vain to think of a Retreat, Till he had render'd all he had eat, And well he far'd no worse._

To the Application, Governor.

_Lear._ 'Tis easy to be made, my Lord.

_Esop._ I'm glad on't, Truth can never be too clear. [_Seeing ~Euph~._] Is this young Damsel your fair Daughter, Sir?

_Lear._ 'Tis my Daughter, my good Lord: Fair too, if she appears such in the Eyes of the unerring _Esop_.

_Esop._ [_Going up to salute her._] I never saw so beautiful a Creature.

_Lear._ [_Aside._] Now's the time; kiss soft, Girl, and fire him.

_Esop._ [_Gazing at her._] How partial's Nature 'twixt her Form and mine!

_Lear._ [_Aside._] Look, look, look, how he gazes at her!----_Cupid_'s hard at work, I see that already. Slap; there he hits him--if the Wench would but do her Part. But see, see, how the perverse young Baggage stands biting her Thumbs, and won't give him one kind Glance----Ah the sullen Jade! Had it been a handsome strong Dog, of five-and-twenty, she'd a fall'n a coquetting on't, with every Inch about her. But may be 'tis I that spoils Sport; I'll make a Pretence to leave them together. Will your Lordship please to drink any Coffee this Morning?

_Esop._ With all my Heart, Governor.

_Lear._ Your Lordship will give me leave to go and order it myself; for unless I am by, 'tis never perfect.

_Esop._ Provided you leave me this fair Maid in Hostage for your Return, I consent.

_Lear._ My good Lord does my Daughter too much Honour. Ah that the Wench wou'd but do her Part! [_Aside going off._]----Hark, you, Hussy----[_Turning back to ~Euphronia~, aside._]----You can give yourself Airs sometimes, you know you can. Do you remember what work you made with yourself at Church t'other Day? Play your Tricks over again, once more, for my Pleasure, and let me have a good Account of this Statesman, or, d'ye hear?----You shall die a Maid; go chew upon that; go.

[_Exit ~Lear~._

_Esop._ Here I am left, fair Damsel, too much expos'd to your Charms, not to fall your Victim.

_Euph._ Your Fall will then be due to your own Weakness, Sir; for, Heaven's my Witness, I neither endeavour nor wish to wound you.

_Esop._ I understand you, Lady; your Heart's already dispos'd of; 'tis seldom otherways, at your Age.

_Euph._ My Heart dispos'd of!

_Dor._ Nay, never mince the Matter, Madam. The Gentleman looks like a civil Gentleman, e'en confess the Truth to him: He has a good Interest with your Father, and no Doubt will employ it to break the Heathenish Match he proposes to you. [_To ~Esop~._] Yes, Sir, my young Lady has been in love these two Years, and that with as pretty a Fellow as ever entered a Virgin's Heart; tall, strait, young, vigorous, good Clothes, long Perriwig, clean Linen; in brief, he has every thing that's necessary to set a young Lady a-longing, and to stay it when he has done: but her Father, whose Ambition makes him turn Fool in his old Age, comes with a back Stroke upon us, and spoils all our Sport. Wou'd you believe it, Sir? He has propos'd to her to-day the most confounded ugly Fellow! Look, if the very Thoughts of him don't set the poor Thing a-crying! And you, Sir, have so much Power with the old Gentleman, that one Word from you would set us all right again. If he will have her a Wife, in the Name of _Venus_, let him provide her a handsome Husband, and not throw her into the Paws of a Thing, that Nature, in a merry Humour, has made half Man, half Monkey.

_Esop._ Pray, what's this Monster's Name, Lady?

_Euph._ No matter for his Name, Sir; my Father will know what you mean, at first Word.

_Esop._ But you shou'd not always chuse by the Outside alone: believe me, fair Damsel, a fine Perriwig keeps many a Fool's Head from the Weather: Have a Care of your young Gallant.

_Dor._ There's no Danger, I have examin'd him; his Inside's as good as his out! I say, he has Wit, and I think I know.

_Euph._ Nay, she says true; he's even a Miracle of Wit and Beauty: Did you but see him, you'd be yourself my Rival.

_Esop._ Then you are resolv'd against the Monster?

_Dor._ Fy, Sir, fy; I wonder you'll put her in Mind of that foul, frightful Thing: We shall have her dream of nothing all Night but Bats and Owls, and Toads and Hedge-hogs; and then we shall have such a squeaking and squalling with her, the whole House will be in an Uproar: Therefore, pray, Sir, name him no more, but use your Interest with her Father, that she may never hear of him again.

_Esop._ But if I shou'd be so generous to save you from the old Gallant, what shall I say for your young one?

_Euph._ O, Sir, you may venture to enlarge upon his Perfections; you need not fear saying too much in his Praise.

_Dor._ And pray, Sir, be as copious upon the Defects of t'other; you need not fear out-running the Text there, neither, say the worst you can.

_Euph._ You may say, the first is the most graceful Man that _Asia_ ever brought forth.

_Dor._ And you may say the latter is the most deform'd Monster that Copulation ever produc'd.

_Euph._ Tell him that _Oronces_ (for that is his dear Name) has all the Virtues that compose a perfect Hero.