SCENE III.

LADY DARLING'S _House_.

_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR, _with Cards_; SERVANTS _following_.

_Sir H._ Here, fly all around, and bear these as directed; you to Westminster, you to St. James's, and you into the city. Tell all my friends, a bridegroom's joy invites their presence. Tell them, I am married. If any ask to whom, make no reply; but tell them, that I am married; that joy shall crown the day, and love the night. Begone, fly.

_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.

A thousand welcomes, friend; my pleasure's now complete, since I can share it with my friend: brisk joy shall bound from me to you; then back again; and, like the sun, grow warmer by reflection.

_Colonel S._ You are always pleasant, Sir Harry; but this transcends yourself: whence proceeds it?

_Sir H._ Canst thou not guess, my friend? Whence flows all earthly joy? What is the life of man, and soul of pleasure? Woman.----What fires the heart with transport, and the soul with raptures?--Lovely woman----What is the master-stroke and smile of the creation, but charming, virtuous woman?--Methinks, my friend, you relish not my joy. What is the cause?

_Colonel S._ Canst thou not guess?--What is the bane of man, and scourge of life, but woman?--What is the heathenish idol man sets up, and is damned for worshipping? Treacherous woman.--Woman, whose composition inverts humanity; their bodies heavenly, but their souls are clay.

_Sir H._ Come, come, colonel, this is too much: I know your wrongs received from Lurewell may excuse your resentment against her. But it is unpardonable to charge the failings of a single woman upon the whole sex. I have found one, whose virtues----

_Colonel S._ So have I, Sir Harry; I have found one whose pride's above yielding to a prince. And if lying, dissembling, perjury, and falsehood, be no breaches in a woman's honour, she is as innocent as infancy.

_Sir H._ Well, colonel, I find your opinion grows stronger by opposition; I shall now, therefore, wave the argument, and only beg you for this day to make a show of complaisance at least.--Here comes my charming bride.

_Enter_ LADY DARLING _and_ ANGELICA.

_Colonel S._ [_Saluting_ ANGELICA.] I wish you, madam, all the joys of love and fortune.

_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR.

_Clinch. jun._ Gentlemen and ladies, I'm just upon the spur, and have only a minute to take my leave.

_Sir H._ Whither are you bound, sir?

_Clinch. jun._ Bound, sir! I'm going to the Jubilee, sir.

_Lady D._ Bless me, cousin! how came you by these clothes?

_Clinch. jun._ Clothes! ha! ha! ha! the rarest jest! ha! ha! ha! I shall burst, by Jupiter Ammon--I shall burst.

_Lady D._ What's the matter, cousin?

_Clinch. jun._ The matter! ha! ha! Why, an honest porter, ha! ha! ha! has knocked out my brother's brains--ha! ha! ha!

_Sir H._ A very good jest, i'faith--ha! ha! ha!

_Clinch. jun._ Ay, sir; but the best jest of all is, he knocked out his brains with a hammer--and so he is as dead as a door-nail! ha! ha! ha!

_Lady D._ And do you laugh, wretch?

_Clinch. jun._ Laugh! ha! ha! ha! let me see e'er a younger brother in England, that won't laugh at such a jest!

_Ang._ You appeared a very sober, pious gentleman, some hours ago.

_Clinch. jun._ Pshaw! I was a fool then; but now, madam, I'm a wit; I can rake now. As for your part, madam, you might have had me once; but now, madam, if you should fall to eating chalk, or gnawing the sheets, it is none of my fault. Now, madam, I have got an estate, and I must go to the Jubilee.

_Enter_ CLINCHER SENIOR, _in a Blanket_.

_Clinch. sen._ Must you so, rogue--must ye? You will go to the Jubilee, will you?

_Clinch. jun._ A ghost! a ghost! send for the Dean and Chapter presently.

_Clinch. sen._ A ghost! No, no, sirrah! I'm an elder brother, rogue.

_Clinch. jun._ I don't care a farthing for that; I'm sure you're dead in law.

_Clinch. sen._ Why so, sirrah--why so?

_Clinch. jun._ Because, sir, I can get a fellow to swear he knocked out your brains.

_Sir H._ An odd way of swearing a man out of his life!

_Clinch. jun._ Smell him, gentlemen, he has a deadly scent about him.

_Clinch. sen._ Truly, the apprehensions of death may have made me savour a little. O lord! the Colonel! The apprehension of him may make the savour worse, I'm afraid.

_Clinch. jun._ In short, sir, were you a ghost, or brother, or devil, I will go to the Jubilee, by Jupiter Ammon.

_Colonel S._ Go to the Jubilee! go to the bear-garden. Get you to your native plough and cart; converse with animals like yourself, sheep and oxen: men are creatures you don't understand.

_Enter a_ SERVANT, _who whispers_ WILDAIR.

_Sir H._ Let them alone, colonel, their folly will be now diverting. Come, gentlemen, we'll dispute this point some other time.--Madam, shall I beg you to entertain the company in the next room for a moment? [_To_ LADY DARLING.

_Lady D._ With all my heart----Come, gentlemen. [_Exeunt all but_ WILDAIR.

_Sir H._ A lady to inquire for me! Who can this be?

_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL.

Oh, madam, this favour is beyond my expectation--to come uninvited to dance at my wedding.----What d'ye gaze at, madam?

_Lady L._ A monster--if thou'rt married, thou'rt the most perjured wretch that e'er avouch'd deceit.

_Sir H._ Heyday! Why, madam, I'm sure I never swore to marry you: I made, indeed, a slight promise, upon condition of your granting me a small favour; but you would not consent, you know.

_Lady L._ How he upbraids me with my shame!--Can you deny your binding vows, when this appears a witness against your falsehood! [_Shows a Ring._] Methinks the motto of this sacred pledge should flash confusion in your guilty face--Read, read here the binding words of love and honour--words not unknown to your perfidious tongue, though utter strangers to your treacherous heart.

_Sir H._ The woman's stark staring mad, that's certain.

_Lady L._ Was it maliciously designed to let me find my misery when past redress? To let me know you, only to know you false? Had not cursed chance showed me the motto, I had been happy: the first knowledge I had of you was fatal to me--and this second, worse.

_Sir H._ What the devil is all this! Madam, I'm not at leisure for raillery at present, I have weighty affairs upon my hands: the business of pleasure, madam: any other time---- [_Going._

_Lady L._ Stay, I conjure you, stay.

_Sir H._ 'Faith, I can't, my bride expects me; but harkye, when the honey-moon is over, about a month or two hence, I may do you a small favour. [_Exit._

_Lady L._ Grant me some wild expressions, Heavens, or I shall burst. Woman's weakness, man's falsehood, my own shame, and love's disdain, at once swell up my breast----Words, words, or I shall burst. [_Going._

_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.

_Colonel S._ Stay, madam, you need not shun my sight; for if you are perfect woman, you have confidence to outface a crime, and bear the charge of guilt without a blush.

_Lady L._ The charge of guilt! what, making a fool of you? I've done it, and glory in the act: dissembling to the prejudice of men, is virtue; and every look, or sign, or smile, or tear that can deceive, is meritorious.

_Colonel S._ Very pretty principles, truly. If there be truth in woman, 'tis now in thee. Come, madam, you know that you're discovered, and, being sensible that you cannot escape, you would now turn to bay. That ring, madam, proclaims you guilty.

_Lady L._ O monster, villain, perfidious villain! Has he told you?

_Colonel S._ I'll tell it you, and loudly too.

_Lady L._ O, name it not----Yet, speak it out, 'tis so just a punishment for putting faith in man, that I will bear it all. Speak now, what his busy scandal, and your improving malice, both dare utter.

_Colonel S._ Your falsehood can't be reached by malice nor by satire; your actions are the justest libel on your fame; your words, your looks, your tears, I did believe in spite of common fame. Nay, 'gainst mine own eyes, I still maintained your truth. I imagined Wildair's boasting of your favours to be the pure result of his own vanity: at last he urged your taking presents of him; as a convincing proof of which, you yesterday from him received that ring, which ring, that I might be sure he gave it, I lent him for that purpose.

_Lady L._ Ha! you lent it him for that purpose!

_Colonel S._ Yes, yes, madam, I lent it him for that purpose----No denying it--I know it well, for I have worn it long, and desire it now, madam, to restore it to the just owner.

_Lady L._ The just owner! Think, sir, think but of what importance 'tis to own it: if you have love and honour in your soul, 'tis then most justly yours; if not, you are a robber, and have stolen it basely.

_Colonel S._ Ha! your words, like meeting flints, have struck a light, to show me something strange----But tell me instantly, is not your real name Manly?

_Lady L._ Answer me first: did not you receive this ring about twelve years ago?

_Colonel S._ I did.

_Lady L._ And were not you about that time entertained two nights at the house of Sir Oliver Manly, in Oxfordshire?

_Colonel S._ I was! I was! [_Runs to her, and embraces her._] The blest remembrance fires my soul with transport----I know the rest----you are the charming she, and I the happy man.

_Lady L._ How has blind fortune stumbled on the right? But where have you wandered since?--'Twas cruel to forsake me.

_Colonel S._ The particulars of my fortune are too tedious now: but to discharge myself from the stain of dishonour, I must tell you, that immediately upon my return to the university, my elder brother and I quarrelled: my father, to prevent farther mischief, posts me away to travel: I wrote to you from London, but fear the letter came not to your hands.

_Lady L._ I never had the least account of you by letter, or otherwise.

_Colonel S._ Three years I lived abroad, and at my return, found you were gone out of the kingdom, though none could tell me whither: missing you thus, I went to Flanders, served my king till the peace commenced; then fortunately going on board at Amsterdam, one ship transported us both to England. At the first sight I loved, though ignorant of the hidden cause----You may remember, madam, that, talking once of marriage, I told you I was engaged--to your dear self I meant.

_Lady L._ Then men are still most generous and brave--and, to reward your truth, an estate of three thousand pounds a year waits your acceptance; and, if I can satisfy you in my past conduct, I shall expect the honourable performance of your promise, and that you will stay with me in England.

_Colonel S._ Stay--Nor fame, nor glory e'er shall part us more. My honour can be no where more concerned than here.

_Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR _and_ ANGELICA.

Oh, Sir Harry! Fortune has acted miracles to-day: the story's strange and tedious, but all amounts to this--that woman's mind is charming as her person, and I am made a convert too to beauty.

_Sir H._ I wanted only this, to make my pleasure perfect.

_Enter_ SMUGGLER.

_Smug._ So, gentlemen and ladies, I'm glad to find you so merry; is my gracious nephew among ye?

_Sir H._ Sir, he dares not show his face among such honourable company; for your gracious nephew is--

_Smug._ What, sir? Have a care what you say.

_Sir H._ A villain, sir.

_Smug._ With all my heart. I'll pardon you the beating me, for that very word. And pray, Sir Harry, when you see him next, tell him this news from me, that I have disinherited him--that I will leave him as poor as a disbanded quarter-master.--Oh, Sir Harry, he is as hypocritical----

_Lady L._ As yourself, Mr. Alderman. How fares my good old nurse, pray, sir?----Come, Mr. Alderman, for once let a woman advise:--Would you be thought an honest man, banish covetousness, that worst gout of age: avarice is a poor pilfering quality, of the soul, and will, as certainly cheat, as a thief would steal. Would you be thought a reformer of the times, be less severe in your censures, less rigid in your precepts, and more strict in your example.

_Sir H._ Right, madam, virtue flows freer from imitation than compulsion; of which, colonel, your conversion and mine, are just examples.

In vain are musty morals taught in schools, By rigid teachers, and as rigid rules, Where virtue with a frowning aspect stands, And frights the pupil from its rough commands But woman---- Charming woman can true converts make, We love the precept for the teacher's sake. Virtue in them appears so bright, so gay, We hear with transport, and with pride obey. [_Exeunt omnes._

* * * * * *

Transcriber's note:

The text includes a number of words with alternate spellings or spellings no longer common. These have been retained. A single instance of dy'e was changed to match the otherwise usual d'ye.

The following additional changes were made to the text: