Part 22

Lady _Grace._ When my intreaties had prevail'd upon my Lord, not to make a story for the town, by so public a violence, as shutting her at once out of his doors; he order'd the next apartment to my lady's to be made ready for him----while that was doing----I try'd by all the little arts I was mistress of, to amuse him into temper; in short, a silent grief was all I could reduce him to----on this, we took our leaves, and parted to our repose: what his was, I imagine by my own: for I ne'er clos'd my eyes. About five, as I told you, I heard my lady at the door; so I slipt on a gown, and sat almost an hour with her in her own chamber.

_Man._ What said she, when she did not find my Lord there?

Lady _Grace._ O! so far from being shock'd or alarm'd at it; that she blest the occasion! and said that in her condition, the chat of a female friend was far preferable to the best husband's company in the world.

_Man._ Where has she spirits to support so much insensibility?

Lady _Grace._ Nay! it's incredible! for though she had lost every shilling she had in the world, and stretch'd her credit ev'n to breaking; she rallied her own follies with such vivacity, and painted the penance, she knows she must undergo for them, in such ridiculous lights, that had not my concern for a brother been too strong for her wit, she had a'most disarm'd my anger.

_Man._ Her mind may have another cast by this time: the most flagrant dispositions have their hours of anguish; which their pride conceals from company; but pray, Madam, how could she avoid coming down to dine?

Lady _Grace._ O! she took care of that before she went to bed; by ordering her woman, whenever she was ask'd for, to say, she was not well.

_Man._ You have seen her since she was up, I presume?

Lady _Grace._ Up! I question whether she be awake yet.

_Man._ Terrible! What a figure does she make now! That nature should throw away so much beauty upon a creature, to make such a slatternly use of it!

Lady _Grace._ O fy! there is not a more elegant beauty in town, when she's drest.

_Man._ In my eye, Madam, she that's early drest, has ten times her elegance.

Lady _Grace._ But she won't be long now, I believe: for I think I see her chocolate going up----Mrs. _Trusty_,--a hem!

_Mrs. ~Trusty~ comes to the door._

_Man._ [_Aside._] Five o'clock in the afternoon, for a lady of quality's breakfast, is an elegant hour indeed! which to shew her more polite way of living too, I presume, she eats in her bed.

Lady _Grace._ [_To Mrs. ~Trusty~._] And when she is up, I would be glad she would let me come to her toilet--That's all, Mrs. _Trusty_.

_Trusty._ I will be sure to let her ladyship know, Madam.

[_Exit Mrs. ~Trusty~._

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Sir _Francis Wronghead_, Sir, desires to speak with you.

_Man._ He comes unseasonably----what shall I do with him!

Lady _Grace._ O see him by all means, we shall have time enough; in the mean while I'll step in, and have an eye upon my brother. Nay, nay, don't mind me--have business.----

_Man._ You must be obey'd----

[_Retreating while Lady Grace goes out._

Desire _Sir Francis_ to walk in----

[_Exit servant._

I suppose by this time his wise worship begins to find, that the balance of his journey to London is on the wrong side.

_Enter Sir ~Francis~._

Sir _Francis_, your servant; how came I by the favour of this extraordinary visit?

Sir _Fran._ Ah! cousin!

_Man._ Why that sorrowful face, man?

Sir _Fran._ I have no friend alive but you----

_Man._ I am sorry for that----but what's the matter?

Sir _Fran._ I have play'd the fool by this journey, I see now----for my bitter wife----

_Man._ What of her?

Sir _Fran._ Is playing the devil!

_Man._ Why truly, that's a part that most of your fine ladies begin with, as soon as they get to _London_.

Sir _Fran._ If I am a living man, cousin, she has made away with above two hundred and fifty pounds since yesterday morning!

_Man._ Hah! I see a good housewife will do a great deal of work in a little time.

Sir _Fran._ Work do they call it! fine work indeed!

_Man._ Well, but how do you mean made away with it? What, she has laid it out, may be----but I suppose you have an account of it.

Sir _Fran._ Yes, yes, I have had the account indeed; but I mun needs say, it's a very sorry one.

_Man._ Pray, let's hear.

Sir _Fran._ Why, first I let her have an hundred and fifty, to get things handsom about her, to let the world see that I was somebody! and I thought that sum very genteel.

_Man._ Indeed I think so; and in the country, might have serv'd her a twelvemonth.

Sir _Fran._ Why so it might----but here in this fine tawn, forsooth! it could not get through four and twenty hours----for in half that time, it was all squandered away in baubles, and new fashion'd trumpery.

_Man._ O! for ladies in _London_, Sir _Francis_, all this might be necessary.

Sir _Fran._ Noa, theere's the plague on't! the devil o' one useful thing do I see for it, but two pair of lac'd shoes, and those stond me in three pound three shillings a pair too.

_Man._ Dear Sir! this is nothing! Why we have city wives here, that while their good man is selling three penny worth of sugar, will give you twenty pound for a short apron.

Sir _Fran._ Mercy on us! what a mortal poor devil is a husband!

_Man._ Well, but I hope you have nothing else to complain of?

Sir _Fran._ Ah would I could say so too--but there's another hundred behind yet, that goes more to my heart, than all that went before it.

_Man._ And how might that be disposed of?

Sir _Fran._ Troth I am almost ashamed to tell you.

_Man._ Out with it.

Sir _Fran._ Why she has been at an assembly.

_Man._ What, since I saw you! I thought you had all supt at home last night?

Sir _Fran._ Why, so we did----and all as merry as grigs----I'cod! my heart was so open, that I toss'd another hundred into her apron, to go out early this morning with----but the cloth was no sooner taken away, than in comes my Lady _Townly_ here, (----who between you and I----mum! has had the devil to pay yonder----) with another rantipole dame of quality, and out they must have her, they said, to introduce her at my Lady _Noble_'s assembly forsooth----a few words, you may be sure, made the bargain----so, bawnce! and away they drive as if the devil had got into the coach box--so about four or five in the morning----home comes Madam, with her eyes a foot deep in her head----and my poor hundred pound left behind her at the hazard-table.

_Man._ All lost at dice!

Sir _Fran._ Every shilling----among a parcel of pig-tail puppies, and pale fac'd women of quality.

_Man._ But pray, Sir _Francis_, how came you, after you found her so ill an housewife of one sum, so soon to trust her with another?

Sir _Fran._ Why truly I mun say that was partly my own fault: for if I had not been a blab of my tongue, I believe that last hundred might have been sav'd.

_Man._ How so?

Sir _Fran._ Why, like an owl as I was, out of goodwill, forsooth, partly to keep her in humour, I must needs tell her of the thousand pound a year, I had just got the promise of--I'cod! she lays her claws upon it that moment----said it was all owing to her advice, and truly she would have her share on't.

_Man._ What, before you had it yourself?

Sir _Fran._ Why ay! that's what I told her----My dear, said I, mayhap I mayn't receive the first quarter on't this half year.

_Man._ Sir _Francis_, I have heard you with a great deal of patience, and I really feel compassion for you.

Sir _Fran._ Truly and well you may cousin, for I don't see that my wife's goodness is a bit the better, for bringing to _London_.

_Man._ If you remember I gave you a hint of it.

Sir _Fran._ Why ay, it's true you did so: but the devil himself could not have believ'd she would have rid post to him.

_Man._ Sir, if you stay but a fortnight in this town you will every day see hundreds as fast upon the gallop, as she is.

Sir _Fran._ Ah! this _London_ is a base place indeed----waunds, if things should happen to go wrong with me at _Westminster_, at this rate, how the devil shall I keep out of jail!

_Man._ Why truly, there seems to me but one way to avoid it.

Sir _Fran._ Ah! wou'd you could tell me that, cousin.

_Man._ The way lies plain before you, Sir; the same road that brought you hither will carry you safe home again.

Sir _Fran._ Ods-flesh! cousin, what! and leave a thousand pound a year behind me?

_Man._ Pooh! pooh! leave any thing behind you, but your family, and you are a saver by it.

Sir _Fran._ Ay, but consider, cousin, what a scurvy figure I shall make in the country, if I come dawn withawt it!

_Man._ You will make a much more lamentable figure in jail without it.

Sir _Fran._ Mayhap 'at yow have no great opinion of it then, cousin?

_Man._ Sir _Francis_, to do you the service of a real friend, I must speak very plainly to you: you don't yet see half the ruin that's before you.

Sir _Fran._ Good-lack! how may yow mean, cousin?

_Man._ In one word, your whole affairs stand thus----In a week you'll lose your seat at _Westminster_: In a fortnight my lady will run you into jail, by keeping the best company----In four and twenty hours, your daughter will run away with a sharper, because she han't been us'd to better company: and your son will steal into marriage with a cast-mistress, because he has not been us'd to any company at all.

Sir _Fran._ I'th' name of goodness why should you think all this?

_Man._ Because I have proof of it; in short, I know so much of their secrets, that if all this is not prevented to-night, it will be out of your power to do it to-morrow morning.

Sir _Fran._ Mercy upon us! you frighten me----Well, Sir, I will be govern'd by yow: but what am I to do in this case?

_Man._ I have not time here to give you proper instructions; but about eight this evening, I'll call at your lodgings; and there you shall have full conviction, how much I have it at heart to serve you.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Sir, my Lord desires to speak with you.

_Man._ I'll wait upon him.

Sir _Fran._ Well then, I'll go straight home, naw.

_Man._ At eight depend upon me.

Sir _Fran._ Ah! dear cousin! I shall be bound to you as long as I live. Mercy deliver us! what a terrible journey have I made on't!

[_Exeunt severally._

_The +SCENE+ opens to a dressing room. Lady ~Townly~, as just up, walks to her toilet, leaning on Mrs. ~Trusty~._

_Trusty._ Dear Madam, what should make your Ladyship so out of order!

Lady _Town._ How is it possible to be well, where one is kill'd for want of sleep?

_Trusty._ Dear me! it was so long before you rung, Madam, I was in hopes your Ladyship had been finely compos'd.

Lady _Town._ Compos'd! why I have laid in an inn here! this house is worse than an inn with ten stage-coaches! What between my lord's impertinent people of business in a morning, and the intolerable thick shoes of footmen at noon, one has not a wink all night.

_Trusty._ Indeed, Madam, it's a great pity my Lord can't be persuaded into the hours of people of quality----Though I must say that, Madam, your Ladyship is certainly the best matrimonial manager in town.

Lady _Town._ Oh! you are quite mistaken, _Trusty_! I manage very ill! for notwithstanding all the power I have, by never being over-fond of my lord----yet I want money infinitely oftener than he is willing to give it me.

_Trusty._ Ah, if his lordship could but be brought to play himself, Madam, then he might feel what it is to want money.

Lady _Town._ Oh! don't talk of it! do you know that I am undone, _Trusty_?

_Trusty._ Mercy forbid, Madam!

Lady _Town._ Broke! ruin'd! plunder'd!----stripp'd, even to a confiscation of my last guinea.

_Trusty._ You don't tell me so, Madam!

Lady _Townly._ And where to raise ten pound in the world----What is to be done _Trusty_?

_Trusty._ Truly, I wish I was wise enough to tell you, Madam: but may be your ladyship may have a run of better fortune, upon some of the good company that comes here to-night.

Lady _Town._ But I have not a single guinea to try my fortune!

_Trusty._ Ha! that's a bad business indeed, Madam--Adad! I have a thought in my head, Madam, if it is not too late----

Lady _Town._ Out with it quickly then, I beseech thee?

_Trusty._ Has not the steward something of fifty pound, Madam, that you left in his hands to pay somebody about this time?

Lady _Town._ O! ay! I had forgot--'twas to--a--what's his filthy name?

_Trusty._ Now I remember, Madam, 'twas to Mr. _Lutestring_, your old mercer, that your ladyship turn'd off, about a year ago, because he would trust you no longer.

Lady _Town._ The very wretch! if he has not paid it, run quickly, dear _Trusty_, and bid him bring it hither immediately----[_Exit ~Trusty~._] Well! sure mortal woman never had such fortune! five! five, and nine, against poor seven for ever!----No! after that horrid bar of my chance, that Lady _Wronghead_'s fatal red fist upon the table, I saw it was impossible, ever to win another stake----Sit up all night! lose all one's money! dream of winning thousands! wake without a shilling! and then how like a hag I look! In short----the pleasures of life are not worth this disorder! If it were not for shame now, I could almost think, Lady _Grace_'s sober scheme not quite so ridiculous----If my wise lord could but hold his tongue for a week, 'tis odds, but I should hate the town in a fortnight----But I will not be driven out of it, that's positive!

[_~Trusty~ returns._

_Trusty._ O Madam! there is no bearing it! Mr. _Lutestring_ was just let in at the door, as I came to the stair-foot! and the steward is now actually paying him the money in the hall.

Lady _Town._ Run to the stair case head, again----and scream to him, that I must speak with him this instant.

[_~Trusty~ runs out, and speaks._

_Trusty._ Mr. _Poundage_----a hem! Mr. } _Poundage_, a word with you quickly. } } _Pound._ [_Within._] I'll come to you presently. } } _Trusty._ Presently won't do, man, you must } come this minute. } _Without._ } _Pound._ I am but just paying a little money, } here. } } _Trusty._ Cods my life! paying money? is } the man distracted? come here I tell you, } to my lady, this moment, quick! }

[_~Trusty~ returns._

Lady _Town._ Will the monster come or no?----

_Trusty._ Yes, I hear him now, Madam, he is hobbling up, as fast as he can.

Lady _Town._ Don't let him come in--for he will keep such a babbling about his accounts,----my brain is not able to bear him.

[_~Poundage~ comes to the door with a money-bag in his hand._

_Trusty._ O! it's well you are come, Sir! where's the fifty-pound?

_Pound._ Why here it is; if you had not been in such haste, I should have paid it by this time----the man's now writing a receipt, below, for it.

_Trusty._ No matter! my lady says, you must not pay him with that money, there is not enough, it seems; there's a pistole and a guinea that's not good, in it----besides there is a mistake in the account too----[_Twitching the bag from him._] But she is not at leisure to examine it now; so you must bid Mr. What-d'ye-call-um call another time.

Lady _Town._ What is all that noise there?

_Pound._ Why and it please your Ladyship----

Lady _Town._ Pr'ythee! don't plague me now, but do as you were order'd.

_Pound._ Nay, what your Ladyship pleases, Madam----

[_Exit ~Poundage~._

_Trusty._ There they are, Madam----[_Pours the money out of the bag._] The pretty things----were so near falling into a nasty tradesman's hands, I protest it made me tremble for them----I fancy your ladyship had as good give me that bad guinea, for luck's sake--thank you, Madam.

[_Takes a guinea._

Lady _Town._ Why, I did not bid you take it.

_Trusty._ No, but your ladyship look'd as if you were just going to bid me, and so I was willing to save you the trouble of speaking, Madam.

Lady _Town._ Well! thou hast deserv'd it, and so for once----but hark! don't I hear the man making a noise yonder? though I think now we may compound for a little of his ill humour----

_Trusty._ I'll listen.

Lady _Town._ Pr'ythee do.

[_~Trusty~ goes to the door._

_Trusty._ Ay! they are at it, Madam--he's in a bitter passion, with poor _Poundage_----bless me! I believe he'll beat him----mercy on us; how the wretch swears!

Lady _Town._ And a sober citizen too! that's a shame!

_Trusty._ Ha! I think all's silent, of a sudden----may be the porter has knock'd him down--I'll step and see----

[_Exit ~Trusty~._

Lady _Town._ Those trades-people are the troublesomest creatures! no words will satisfy them!

[_~Trusty~ returns._

_Trusty._ O Madam! undone! undone! my lord has just bolted out upon the man, and is hearing all his pitiful story over----if your ladyship pleases to come hither, you may hear him yourself!

Lady _Town._ No matter: it will come round presently: I shall have it all from my Lord, without losing a word by the way, I'll warrant you.

_Trusty._ O lud! Madam! here's my lord just coming in.

Lady _Town._ Do you get out of the way then. [_Exit ~Trusty~._] I am afraid I want spirits! but he will soon give 'em me.

_Enter Lord ~Townly~._

Lord _Town._ How comes it, Madam, that a tradesman dares be clamorous in my house, for money due to him, from you?

Lady _Town._ You don't expect, my lord, that I should answer for other peoples impertinence!

Lord _Town._ I expect, Madam, you should answer for your own extravagances, that are the occasion of it----I thought I had given you money three months ago, to satisfy all these sort of people!

Lady _Town._ Yes, but you see they are never to be satisfied.

Lord _Town._ Nor am I, Madam, longer to be abus'd thus! what's become of the last five hundred I gave you?

Lady _Town._ Gone.

Lord _Town._ Gone! what way, Madam?

Lady _Town._ Half the town over, I believe, by this time.

Lord _Town._ 'Tis well! I see ruin will make no impression, 'till it falls upon you.

Lady _Town._ In short, my Lord, if money is always the subject of our conversation, I shall make you no answer.

Lord _Town._ Madam, Madam! I will be heard, and make you answer.

Lady _Town._ Make me! then I must tell you, my Lord, this is a language I have not been us'd to, and I won't bear it.

Lord _Town._ Come! come, Madam, you shall bear a great deal more before I part with you.

Lady _Town._ My Lord, if you insult me, you will have as much to bear, on your side, I can assure you.

Lord _Town._ Pooh! your spirit grows ridiculous----you have neither honour, worth, or innocence, to support it!

Lady _Town._ You'll find, at least, I have resentment! and do you look well to the provocation!

Lord _Town._ After those you have given me, Madam, 'tis almost infamous to talk with you.

Lady _Town._ I scorn your imputation and your menaces! The narrowness of your heart's your monitor! 'tis there! there, my lord, you are wounded; you have less to complain of than many husbands of an equal rank to you.

Lord _Town._ Death, Madam! do you presume upon your corporal merit! that your person's less tainted, than your mind! is it there! there alone an honest husband can be injur'd? Have you not every other vice that can debase your birth, or stain the heart of woman? Is not your health, your beauty, husband, fortune, family disclaim'd, for nights consumed in riot and extravagance? The wanton does no more; if she conceals her shame, does less: And sure the dissolute avow'd, as sorely wrongs my honour, and my quiet.

Lady _Town._ I see, my Lord, what sort of wife might please you.

Lord _Town._ Ungrateful woman! could you have seen yourself, you in yourself had seen her----I am amaz'd our legislature has left no precedent of a divorce for this more visible injury, this adultery of the mind, as well as that of the person! when a woman's whole heart is alienated to pleasures I have no share in, what is't to me whether a black ace, or a powder'd coxcomb has possession of it?

Lady _Town._ If you have not found it yet, my lord, this is not the way to get possession of mine, depend upon it.

Lord _Town._ That, Madam, I have long despair'd of; and since our happiness cannot be mutual, 'tis fit, that with our hearts, our persons too should separate.----This house you sleep no more in! tho' your content might grosly feed upon the dishonour of a husband, yet my desires would starve upon the features of a wife.

Lady _Town._ Your stile, my lord, is much of the same delicacy with your sentiments of honour.

Lord _Town._ Madam, Madam! this is no time for compliments----I have done with you.

Lady _Town._ If we had never met, my Lord, I had not broke my heart for it! but have a care I may not, perhaps, be so easily recall'd as you imagine.

Lord _Town._ Recall'd--Who's there!

_Enter a Servant._

Desire my sister and Mr. _Manly_ to walk up.

Lady _Town._ My Lord, you may proceed as you please, but pray what indiscretions have I committed, that are not daily practis'd by a hundred other women of quality?

Lord _Town._ 'Tis not the number of ill wives, Madam, that makes the patience of a husband less contemptible: and though a bad one may be the best man's lot, yet he'll make a better figure in the world, that keeps his misfortunes out of doors, than he that tamely keeps her within.

Lady _Town._ I don't know what figure you may make, my Lord, but I shall have no reason to be asham'd of mine in whatever company I may meet you.

Lord _Town._ Be sparing of your spirit, Madam, you'll need it to support you.

_Enter Lady ~Grace~ and ~Manly~._

Mr. _Manly_, I have an act of friendship to beg of you, which wants more apologies, than words can make for it.

_Man._ Then pray make none, my Lord, that I may have the greater merit in obliging you.

Lord _Town._ Sister, I have the same excuse to intreat of you too.

Lady _Grace._ To your request, I beg, my Lord.

Lord _Town._ Thus then----as you both were present at my ill considered marriage, I now desire you each will be a witness of my determin'd separation----I know, Sir, your good nature, and my sister's must be shock'd at the office I impose on you! but as I don't ask your justification of my cause; so I hope you are conscious----that an ill woman can't reproach you, if you are silent, upon her side.

_Man._ My lord, I never thought, 'till now, it could be difficult to oblige you.

Lady _Grace._ [_Aside._] Heaven's! how I tremble!

Lord _Town._ For you, my Lady _Townly_, I need not here repeat the provocations of my parting with you--the world, I fear, is too well informed of them----For the good lord, your dead father's sake, I will still support you, as his daughter----As the lord _Townly_'s wife, you have had every thing a fond husband could bestow, and (to our mutual shame I speak it) more than happy wives desire----But those indulgences must end! State, equipage and splendor, but ill become the vices that misuse 'em----The decent necessaries of life shall be supply'd----but not one article to luxury! Not even the coach that waits to carry you from hence, shall you ever use again! Your tender aunt, my Lady _Lovemore_, with tears, this morning has consented to receive you; where if time, and your condition brings you to a due reflection, your allowance shall be increased----But if you still are lavish of your little, or pine for past licentious pleasures, that little shall be less! nor will I call that soul my friend, that names you in my hearing!

Lady _Grace._ My heart bleeds for her.

[_Aside._