Chapter 42

Enter _Ranter_ and _Jeffery_ her Coachman.

_Ran._ Here, _Jeffery_, ye drunken Dog, set your Coach and Horses up, I’ll not go till the cool of the Evening, I love to ride in _Fresco_.

Enter a _Boy_.

_Coach._ Yes, after hard drinking-- [Aside.] It shall be done, Madam. [Exit.

_Ran._ How now, Boy, is Madam _Surelove_ at home?

_Boy._ Yes, Madam.

_Ran._ Go tell her I am here, Sirrah.

_Boy._ Who are you pray forsooth?

_Ran._ Why, you Son of a Baboon, don’t you know me?

_Boy._ No, Madam, I came over but in the last Ship.

_Ran._ What, from _Newgate_ or _Bridewell_? from shoveing the Tumbler, Sirrah, lifting or filing the Cly?

_Boy._ I don’t understand this Country Language, forsooth, yet.

_Ran._ You Rogue, ‘tis what we transport from _England_ first--go, ye Dog, go tell your Lady the Widow _Ranter_ is come to dine with her-- [Exit _Boy_.] I hope I shall not find that Rogue _Daring_ here sniveling after Mrs. _Chrisante_: If I do, by the Lord, I’ll lay him thick. Pox on him, why shou’d I love the Dog, unless it be a Judgment upon me.

Enter _Surelove_ and _Chrisante_.

--My dear Jewel, how do’st do?--as for you, Gentlewoman, you are my Rival, and I am in Rancour against you till you have renounc’d my _Daring_.

_Chris._ All the Interest I have in him, Madam, I resign to you.

_Ran._ Ay, but your House lying so near the Camp, gives me mortal Fears--but prithee how thrives thy Amour with honest _Friendly_?

_Chris._ As well as an Amour can that is absolutely forbid by a Father on one side, and pursued by a good Resolution on the other.

_Ran._ Hay Gad, I’ll warrant for _Friendly’s_ Resolution, what though his Fortune be not answerable to yours, we are bound to help one another.--Here, Boy, some Pipes and a Bowl of Punch; you know my Humour, Madam, I must smoak and drink in a Morning, or I am maukish all day.

_Sure._ But will you drink Punch in a Morning?

_Ran._ Punch! ‘tis my Morning’s Draught, my Table-drink, my Treat, my Regalio, my every thing; ah, my dear _Surelove_, if thou wou’d but refresh and cheer thy Heart with Punch in a Morning, thou wou’dst not look thus cloudy all the day.

Enter Pipes and a great Bowl, she falls to smoaking.

_Sure._ I have reason, Madam, to be melancholy, I have receiv’d a Letter from my Husband, who gives me an account that he is worse in _England_ than when he was here, so that I fear I shall see him no more, the Doctors can do no good on him.

_Ran._ A very good hearing. I wonder what the Devil thou hast done with him so long? an old fusty weatherbeaten Skeleton, as dried as Stock-fish, and much of the Hue.--Come, come, here’s to the next, may he be young, Heaven, I beseech thee. [Drinks.

_Sure._ You have reason to praise an old Man, who dy’d and left you worth fifty thousand Pound.

_Ran._ Ay, Gad--and what’s better, Sweetheart, dy’d in good time too, and left me young enough to spend this fifty thousand Pound in better Company--rest his Soul for that too.

_Chris._ I doubt ‘twill be all laid out in _Bacon’s_ mad Lieutenant General _Daring_.

_Ran._ Faith, I think I could lend it the Rogue on good Security.

_Chris._ What’s that, to be bound Body for Body?

_Ran._ Rather that he should love no body’s Body besides my own; but my fortune is too good to trust the Rogue, my Money makes me an Infidel.

_Chris._ You think they all love you for that.

_Ran._ For that, ay, what else? if it were not for that, I might sit still and sigh, and cry out, a Miracle! a Miracle! at sight of a Man within my Doors.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ Madam, here’s a young Gentleman without wou’d speak with you.

_Sure._ With me? sure thou’rt mistaken; is it not _Friendly_?

_Maid._ No, Madam, ‘tis a Stranger.

_Ran._ ‘Tis not _Daring_, that Rogue, is it?

_Maid._ No, Madam.

_Ran._ Is he handsome? does he look like a Gentleman?

_Maid._ He’s handsome, and seems a Gentleman.

_Ran._ Bring him in then, I hate a Conversation without a Fellow,--hah,--a good handsome Lad indeed.

Enter _Hazard_ with a Letter.

_Sure._ With me, Sir, would you speak?

_Haz._ If you are Madam _Surelove_.

_Sure._ So I am call’d.

_Haz._ Madam, I am newly arriv’d from _England_, and from your Husband my Kinsman bring you this.-- [Gives a Letter.

_Ran._ Please you to sit, Sir.

_Haz._ She’s extremely handsome. [Aside--sits down.

_Ran._ Come, Sir, will you smoke a Pipe?

_Haz._ I never do, Madam.

_Ran._ Oh, fie upon’t, you must learn then, we all smoke here, ‘tis a part of good Breeding.--Well, well, what Cargo, what Goods have ye? any Points, Lace, rich Stuffs, Jewels; if you have, I’ll be your Chafferer, I live hard by, any body will direct you to the Widow _Ranter’s_.

_Haz._ I have already heard of you, Madam.

_Ran._ What, you are like all the young Fellows, the first thing they do when they come to a strange Place, is to enquire what Fortunes there are.

_Haz._ Madam, I had no such Ambition.

_Ran._ Gad, then you’re a Fool, Sir; but come, my service to you; we rich Widows are the best Commodity this Country affords, I’ll tell you that. [This while _Sure._ reads the Letter.

_Sure._ Sir, my Husband has recommended you here in a most particular manner, by which I do not only find the esteem he has for you, but the desire he has of gaining you mine, which on a double score I render you, first for his sake, next for those Merits that appear in your self.

_Haz._ Madam, the endeavours of my Life shall be to express my Gratitude for this great Bounty.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ Madam, Mr. _Friendly’s_ here.

_Sure._ Bring him in.

_Haz._ _Friendly!_--I had a dear Friend of that name, who I hear is in these Parts.--Pray Heaven it may be he.

_Ran._ How now, _Charles_.

Enter _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Madam, your Servant--Hah! should not I know you for my dear friend _Hazard_. [Embracing him.

_Haz._ Or you’re to blame, my _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Prithee what calm brought thee ashore?

_Haz._ Fortune _de la guerre_, but prithee ask me no Questions in so good Company, where a Minute lost from this Conversation is a Misfortune not to be retriev’d.

_Friend._ Dost like her, Rogue-- [Softly aside.

_Haz._ Like her! have I sight, or sense?--Why, I adore her.

_Friend._ Mrs. _Chrisante_, I heard your Father would not be here to day, which made me snatch this opportunity of seeing you.

_Ran._ Come, come, a Pox of this whining Love, it spoils good Company.

_Friend._ You know, my dear Friend, these Opportunities come but seldom, and therefore I must make use of them.

_Ran._ Come, come, I’ll give you a better Opportunity at my House to morrow, we are to eat a Buffalo there, and I’ll secure the old Gentleman from coming.

_Friend._ Then I shall see _Chrisante_ once more before I go.

_Chris._ Go--Heavens--whither, my _Friendly_?

_Friend._ I have received a Commission to go against the _Indians_, _Bacon_ being sent for home.

_Ran._ But will he come when sent for?

_Friend._ If he refuse we are to endeavour to force him.

_Chris._ I do not think he will be forc’d, not even by _Friendly_.

_Friend._ And, faith, it goes against my Conscience to lift my Sword against him, for he is truly brave, and what he has done, a Service to the Country, had it but been by Authority.

_Chris._ What pity ‘tis there should be such false Maxims in the World, that noble Actions, however great, must be criminal for want of a Law to authorise ‘em.

_Friend._ Indeed ‘tis pity that when Laws are faulty they should not be mended or abolish’d.

_Ran._ Hark ye, _Charles_, by Heaven, if you kill my _Daring_ I’ll pistol you.

_Friend._ No, Widow, I’ll spare him for your sake. [They join with _Surelove_.

_Haz._ Oh, she’s all divine, and all the Breath she utters serves but to blow my Flame.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ Madam, Dinner’s on the Table--

_Sure._ Please you, Sir, to walk in--come, Mr. _Friendly_. [She takes _Hazard_.

_Ran._ Prithee, good Wench, bring in the Punch-Bowl.

[Exeunt.