ACT III.--SCENE I.

_Enter_ SAINTLY _and_ PLEASANCE.

_Pleas._ Never fear it, I'll be a spy upon his actions; he shall neither whisper nor gloat on either of them, but I'll ring him such a peal!

_Saint._ Above all things, have a care of him yourself; for surely there is witchcraft betwixt his lips: He is a wolf within the sheepfold; and therefore I will be earnest, that you may not fall. [_Exit._

_Pleas._ Why should my mother be so inquisitive about this lodger? I half suspect old Eve herself has a mind to be nibbling at the pippin. He makes love to one of them, I am confident; it may be to both; for, methinks, I should have done so, if I had been a man; but the damned petticoats have perverted me to honesty, and therefore I have a grudge to him for the privilege of his sex. He shuns me, too, and that vexes me; for, though I would deny him, I scorn he should not think me worth a civil question.

_Re-enter_ WOODALL, _with_ TRICKSY, MRS BRAINSICK, JUDITH, _and Music._

_Mrs Brain._ Come, your works, your works; they shall have the approbation of Mrs Pleasance.

_Trick._ No more apologies; give Judith the words, she sings at sight.

_Jud._ I'll try my skill.

A SONG FROM THE ITALIAN.

_By a dismal cypress lying, Damon cried, all pale and dying,-- Kind is death, that ends my pain, But cruel she I loved in vain. The mossy fountains Murmur my trouble, And hollow mountains My groans redouble: Every nymph mourns me, Thus while I languish; She only scorns me, Who caused my anguish. No love returning me, but all hope denying; By a dismal cypress lying, Like a swan, so sung he dying,-- Kind is death, that ends my pain, But cruel she I loved in vain._

_Pleas._ By these languishing eyes, and those _simagres_ of yours, we are given to understand, sir, you have a mistress in this company; come, make a free discovery which of them your poetry is to charm, and put the other out of pain.

_Trick._ No doubt 'twas meant to Mrs Brainsick.

_Mrs Brain._ We wives are despicable creatures; we know it, madam, when a mistress is in presence.

_Pleas._ Why this ceremony betwixt you? 'Tis a likely proper fellow, and looks as he could people a new isle of Pines[7].

_Mrs Brain._ 'Twere a work of charity to convert a fair young schismatick, like you, if 'twere but to gain you to a better opinion of the government.

_Pleas._ If I am not mistaken in you, too, he has works of charity enough upon his hands already; but 'tis a willing soul, I'll warrant him, eager upon the quarry, and as sharp as a governor of Covent-Garden.

_Wood._ Sure this is not the phrase of your family! I thought to have found a sanctified sister; but I suspect now, madam, that if your mother kept a pension in your father's time, there might be some gentleman-lodger in the house; for I humbly conceive you are of the half-strain at least.

_Pleas._ For all the rudeness of your language, I am resolved to know upon what voyage you are bound; your privateer of love, you Argier's man, that cruize up and down for prize in the Straitsmouth; which of the vessels would you snap now?

_Trick._ We are both under safe convoy, madam; a lover and a husband.

_Pleas._ Nay, for your part, you are notably guarded, I confess; but keepers have their rooks, as well as gamesters; but they only venture under them till they pick up a sum, and then push for themselves.

_Wood._ [_Aside._] A plague of her suspicions; they'll ruin me on that side.

_Pleas._ So; let but little minx go proud, and the dogs in Covent-Garden have her in the wind immediately; all pursue the scent.

_Trick._ Not to a boarding-house, I hope?

_Pleas._ If they were wise, they would rather go to a brothel-house; for there most mistresses have left behind them their maiden-heads, of blessed memory: and those, which would not go off in that market, are carried about by bawds, and sold at doors, like stale flesh in baskets. Then, for your honesty, or justness, as you call it, to your keepers, your kept-mistress is originally a punk; and let the cat be changed into a lady never so formally, she still retains her natural property of mousing.

_Mrs. Brain._ You are very sharp upon the mistresses; but I hope you'll spare the wives.

_Pleas._ Yes, as much as your husbands do after the first month of marriage; but you requite their negligence in household-duties, by making them husbands of the first head, ere the year be over.

_Wood._ [_Aside._] She has me there, too!

_Pleas._ And as for you, young gallant--

_Wood._ Hold, I beseech you! a truce for me.

_Pleas._ In troth, I pity you; for you have undertaken a most difficult task,--to cozen two women, who are no babies in their art: if you bring it about, you perform as much as he that cheated the very lottery.

_Wood._ Ladies, I am sorry this should happen to you for my sake: She is in a raging fit, you see; 'tis best withdrawing, till the spirit of prophecy has left her.

_Trick._ I'll take shelter in my chamber,--whither, I hope, he'll have the grace to follow me. [_Aside._

_Mrs Brain._ And now I think on't, I have some letters to dispatch. [_Exit_ TRICK. _and_ MRS BRAIN. _severally._

_Pleas._ Now, good John among the maids, how mean you to bestow your time? Away to your study, I advise you; invoke your muses, and make madrigals upon absence.

_Wood._ I would go to China, or Japan, to be rid of that impetuous clack of yours. Farewell, thou legion of tongues in one woman!

_Pleas._ Will you not stay, sir? it may be I have a little business with you.

_Wood._ Yes, the second part of the same tune! Strike by yourself, sweet larum; you're true bell-metal I warrant you. [_Exit._

_Pleas._ This spitefulness of mine will be my ruin: To rail them off, was well enough; but to talk him away, too! O tongue, tongue, thou wert given for a curse to all our sex!

_Enter_ JUDITH.

_Jud._ Madam, your mother would speak with you.

_Pleas._ I will not come; I'm mad, I think; I come immediately. Well, I'll go in, and vent my passion, by railing at them, and him too. [_Exit._

_Jud._ You may enter in safety, sir; the enemy's marched off.

_Re-enter_ WOODALL.

_Wood._ Nothing, but the love I bear thy mistress, could keep me in the house with such a fury. When will the bright nymph appear?

_Jud._ Immediately; I hear her coming.

_Wood._ That I could find her coming, Mrs Judith!

_Enter_ MRS BRAINSICK.

You have made me languish in expectation, madam. Was it nothing, do you think, to be so near a happiness, with violent desires, and to be delayed?

_Mrs Brain._ Is it nothing, do you think, for a woman of honour, to overcome the ties of virtue and reputation; to do that for you, which I thought I should never have ventured for the sake of any man?

_Wood._ But my comfort is, that love has overcome. Your honour is, in other words, but your good repute; and 'tis my part to take care of that: for the fountain of a woman's honour is in the lover, as that of the subject is in the king.

_Mrs Brain._ You had concluded well, if you had been my husband: you know where our subjection lies.

_Wood._ But cannot I be yours without a priest? They were cunning people, doubtless, who began that trade; to have a double hank upon us, for two worlds: that no pleasure here, or hereafter, should be had, without a bribe to them.

_Mrs Brain._ Well, I'm resolved, I'll read, against the next time I see you; for the truth is, I am not very well prepared with arguments for marriage; meanwhile, farewell.

_Wood._ I stand corrected; you have reason indeed to go, if I can use my time no better: We'll withdraw if you please, and dispute the rest within.

_Mrs Brain._ Perhaps, I meant not so.

_Wood,_ I understand your meaning at your eyes. You'll watch, Judith?

_Mrs Brain._ Nay, if that were all, I expect not my husband till to-morrow. The truth is, he is so oddly humoured, that, if I were ill inclined, it would half justify a woman; he's such a kind of man!

_Wood._ Or, if he be not, well make him such a kind of man.

_Mrs Brain._ So fantastical, so musical, his talk all rapture, and half nonsense: like a clock out of order, set him a-going, and he strikes eternally. Besides, he thinks me such a fool, that I could half resolve to revenge myself, in justification of my wit.

_Wood._ Come, come, no half resolutions among lovers; I'll hear no more of him, till I have revenged you fully. Go out and watch, Judith. [_Exit_ JUDITH.

_Mrs Brain._ Yet, I could say, in my defence, that my friends married me to him against my will.

_Wood._ Then let us put your friends, too, into the quarrel: it shall go hard, but I'll give you a revenge for them.

_Enter_ JUDITH _again, hastily._

How now? what's the matter?

_Mrs Brain._ Can'st thou not speak? hast thou seen a ghost?--As I live, she signs horns! that must be for my husband: he's returned. [JUDITH _looks ghastly, and signs horns._

_Jud._ I would have told you so, if I could have spoken for fear.

_Mrs Brain._ Hark, a knocking! What shall we do? [_Knocking._ There's no dallying in this case: here you must not be found, that's certain; but Judith hath a chamber within mine; haste quickly thither; I'll secure the rest.

_Jud._ Follow me, sir. [_Exeunt_ WOODALL, JUDITH.

_Knocking again. She opens: Enter_ BRAINSICK.

_Brain._ What's the matter, gentlewoman? Am I excluded from my own fortress; and by the way of barricado? Am I to dance attendance at the door, as if I were some base plebeian groom? I'll have you know, that, when my foot assaults, the lightning and the thunder are not so terrible as the strokes: brazen gates shall tremble, and bolts of adamant dismount from off their hinges, to admit me.

_Mrs Brain._ Who would have thought, that 'nown dear would have come so soon? I was even lying down on my bed, and dreaming of him. Tum a' me, and buss, poor dear; piddee buss.

_Brain._ I nauseate these foolish feats of love.

_Mrs Brain._ Nay, but why should he be so fretful now? and knows I dote on him? to leave a poor dear so long without him, and then come home in an angry humour! indeed I'll ky.

_Brain._ Pr'ythee, leave thy fulsome fondness; I have surfeited on conjugal embraces.

_Mrs Brain._ I thought so: some light huswife has bewitched him from me: I was a little fool, so I was, to leave a dear behind at Barnet, when I knew the women would run mad for him.

_Brain._ I have a luscious air forming, like a Pallas, in my brain-pain: and now thou com'st across my fancy, to disturb the rich ideas, with the yellow jaundice of thy jealousy. [_Noise within._ Hark, what noise is that within, about Judith's bed?

_Mrs Brain._ I believe, dear, she's making it.--Would the fool would go! [_Aside._

_Brain._ Hark, again!

_Mrs Brain._ [_Aside_] I have a dismal apprehension in my head, that he's giving my maid a cast of his office, in my stead. O, how it stings me! [WOODALL _sneezes._

_Brain._ I'll enter, and find the reason of this tumult.

_Mrs Brain._ [_Holding him._] Not for the world: there may be a thief there; and should I put 'nown dear in danger of his life?--What shall I do? betwixt the jealousy of my love, and fear of this fool, I am distracted: I must not venture them together, whatever comes on it. [_Aside._] Why Judith, I say! come forth, damsel.

_Wood_. [_Within._] The danger's over; I may come out safely.

_Jud._ [_Within._] Are you mad? you shall not.

_Mrs Brain._ [_Aside._] So, now I'm ruined unavoidably.

_Brain._ Whoever thou art, I have pronounced thy doom; the dreadful Brainsick bares his brawny arm in tearing terror; kneeling queens in vain should beg thy being.--Sa, sa, there.

_Mrs Brain._ [_Aside._] Though I believe he dares not venture in, yet I must not put it to the trial. Why Judith, come out, come out, huswife.

_Enter_ JUDITH, _trembling._

What villain have you hid within?

_Jud._ O Lord, madam, what shall I say?

_Mrs Brain._ How should I know what you should say? Mr Brainsick has heard a man's voice within; if you know what he makes there, confess the truth; I am almost dead with fear, and he stands shaking.

_Brain._ Terror, I! 'tis indignation shakes me. With this sabre I'll slice him as small as atoms; he shall be doomed by the judge, and damned upon the gibbet.

_Jud._ [_Kneeling._] My master's so outrageous! sweet madam, do you intercede for me, and I'll tell you all in private. [_Whispers._ If I say it is a thief, he'll call up help; I know not what of the sudden to invent.

_Mrs Brain._ Let me alone.--And is this all? Why would you not confess it before, Judith? when you know I am an indulgent mistress. [_Laughs._

_Brain._ What has she confessed?

_Mrs Brain._ A venial love-trespass, dear: 'tis a sweetheart of hers; one that is to marry her; and she was unwilling I should know it, so she hid him in her chamber.

_Enter_ ALDO.

_Aldo._ What's the matter trow? what, in martial posture, son Brainsick?

_Jud._ Pray, father Aldo, do you beg my pardon of my master. I have committed a fault; I have hidden a gentleman in my chamber, who is to marry me without his friends' consent, and therefore came in private to me.

_Aldo._ That thou should'st think to keep this secret! why, I know it as well as he that made thee.

_Mrs Brain._ [_Aside._] Heaven be praised, for this knower of all things! Now will he lie three or four rapping volunteers, rather than be thought ignorant in any thing.

_Brain._ Do you know his friends, father Aldo?

_Aldo._ Know them! I think I do. His mother was an arch-deacon's daughter; as honest a woman as ever broke bread: she and I have been cater-cousins in our youth; we have tumbled together between a pair of sheets, i'faith.

_Brain._ An honest woman, and yet you two have tumbled together! those are inconsistent.

_Aldo._ No matter for that.

_Mrs Brain._ He blunders; I must help him. [_Aside._] I warrant 'twas before marriage, that you were so great.

_Aldo._ Before George, and so it was: for she had the prettiest black mole upon her left ancle, it does me good to think on't! His father was squire What-d'ye-call-him, of what-d'ye-call-em shire. What think you, little Judith? do I know him now?

_Jud._ I suppose you may be mistaken: my servant's father is a knight of Hampshire.

_Aldo._ I meant of Hampshire. But that I should forget he was a knight, when I got him knighted, at the king's coming in! Two fat bucks, I am sure he sent me.

_Brain._ And what's his name?

_Aldo._ Nay, for that, you must excuse me; I must not disclose little Judith's secrets.

_Mrs Brain._ All this while the poor gentleman is left in pain: we must let him out in secret; for I believe the young fellow is so bashful, he would not willingly be seen.

_Jud._ The best way will be, for father Aldo to lend me the key of his door, which opens into my chamber; and so I can convey him out.

_Aldo._ [_Giving her a key._] Do so, daughter. Not a word of my familiarity with his mother, to prevent bloodshed betwixt us: but I have her name down in my almanack, I warrant her.

_Jud._ What, kiss and tell, father Aldo? kiss and tell! [_Exit._

_Mrs Brain._ I'll go and pass an hour with Mrs Tricksy. [_Exit._

_Enter_ LIMBERHAM.

_Brain._ What, the lusty lover Limberham!

_Enter_ WOODALL, _at another door._

_Aldo._ O here's a monsieur, new come over, and a fellow-lodger; I must endear you two to one another.

_Brain._ Sir, 'tis my extreme ambition to be better known to you; you come out of the country I adore. And how does the dear Battist[8]? I long for some of his new compositions in the last opera. _A propos!_ I have had the most happy invention this morning, and a tune trouling in my head; I rise immediately in my night-gown and slippers, down I put the notes slap-dash, made words to them like lightning; and I warrant you have them at the circle in the evening.

_Wood._ All were complete, sir, if S. Andre would make steps to them.

_Brain._ Nay, thanks to my genius, that care's over: you shall see, you shall see. But first the air. [_Sings._] Is it not very fine? Ha, messieurs!

_Limb._ The close of it is the most ravishing I ever heard!

_Brain._ I dwell not on your commendations. What say you, sir? [_To_ WOOD.] Is it not admirable? Do you enter into it?

_Wood._ Most delicate cadence!

_Brain._ Gad, I think so, without vanity. Battist and I have but one soul. But the close, the close! [_Sings it thrice over._] I have words too upon the air; but I am naturally so bashful!

_Wood._ Will you oblige me, sir?

_Brain._ You might command me, sir; for I sing too _en cavalier:_ but--

_Limb._ But you would be entreated, and say, _Nolo, nolo, nolo,_ three times, like any bishop, when your mouth waters at the diocese.

_Brain._ I have no voice; but since this gentleman commands me, let the words commend themselves. [_Sings._ _My Phillis is charming--_

_Limb._ But why, of all names, would you chuse a Phillis? There have been so many Phillises in songs, I thought there had not been another left, for love or money.

_Brain._ If a man should listen to a fop! [_Sings._ _My Phillis--_

_Aldo._ Before George, I am on t'other side: I think, as good no song, as no Phillis.

_Brain._ Yet again!--_My Phillis--_ [_Sings._

_Limb._ Pray, for my sake, let it be your Chloris.

_Brain._ [_Looking scornfully at him._] _My Phillis--_ [_Sings._

_Limb._ You had as good call her your Succuba.

_Brain._ _Morbleu!_ will you not give me leave? I am full of Phillis. [_Sings._] _My Phillis--_

_Limb._ Nay, I confess, Phillis is a very pretty name.

_Brain._ _Diable!_ Now I will not sing, to spite you. By the world, you are not worthy of it. Well, I have a gentleman's fortune; I have courage, and make no inconsiderable figure in the world: yet I would quit my pretensions to all these, rather than not be author of this sonnet, which your rudeness has irrevocably lost.

_Limb._ Some foolish French _quelque chose_, I warrant you.

_Brain._ _Quelque chose!_ O ignorance, in supreme perfection! he means a _kek shose_[9].

_Limb._ Why a _kek shoes_ let it be then! and a _kek shoes_ for your song.

_Brain._ I give to the devil such a judge. Well, were I to be born again, I would as soon be the elephant, as a wit; he's less a monster in this age of malice. I could burn my sonnet, out of rage.

_Limb._ You may use your pleasure with your own.

_Wood._ His friends would not suffer him: Virgil was not permitted to burn his Æneids.

_Brain._ Dear sir, I'll not die ungrateful for your approbation. [_Aside to_ WOOD.] You see this fellow? he is an ass already; he has a handsome mistress, and you shall make an ox of him ere long.

_Wood._ Say no more, it shall be done.

_Limb._ Hark you, Mr Woodall; this fool Brainsick grows insupportable; he's a public nuisance; but I scorn to set my wit against him: he has a pretty wife: I say no more; but if you do not graff him--

_Wood._ A word to the wise: I shall consider him, for your sake.

_Limb._ Pray do, sir: consider him much.

_Wood._ Much is the word.--This feud makes well for me. [_Aside._

_Brain._ [_To_ WOOD.] I'll give you the opportunity, and rid you of him.--Come away, little Limberham; you, and I, and father Aldo, will take a turn together in the square.

_Aldo._ We will follow you immediately.

_Limb._ Yes, we will come after you, bully Brainsick: but I hope you will not draw upon us there.

_Brain._ If you fear that, Bilbo shall be left behind.

_Limb._ Nay, nay, leave but your madrigal behind: draw not that upon us, and it is no matter for your sword. [_Exit_ BRAIN.

_Enter_ TRICKSY, _and_ MRS BRAINSICK, _with a note for each._

_Wood._ [_Aside._] Both together! either of them, apart, had been my business: but I shall never play well at this three-hand game.

_Limb._ O Pug, how have you been passing your time?

_Trick._ I have been looking over the last present of orange gloves you made me; and methinks I do not like the scent.--O Lord, Mr Woodall, did you bring those you wear from Paris?

_Wood._ Mine are Roman, madam.

_Trick._ The scent I love, of all the world. Pray let me see them.

_Mrs Brain._ Nay, not both, good Mrs Tricksy; for I love that scent as well as you.

_Wood._ [_Pulling them off, and giving each one._] I shall find two dozen more of women's gloves among my trifles, if you please to accept them, ladies.

_Trick._ Look to it; we shall expect them.--Now to put in my _billet-doux!_

_Mrs Brain._ So, now, I have the opportunity to thrust in my note.

_Trick._ Here, sir, take your glove again; the perfume's too strong for me.

_Mrs Brain._ Pray take the other to it; though I should have kept it for a pawn. [Mrs BRAINSICK'S _note falls out,_ LIMB. _takes it up._

_Limb._ What have we here? [_Reads._] for Mr Woodall!

_Both Women._ Hold, hold, Mr Limberham! [_They snatch it._

_Aldo._ Before George, son Limberham, you shall read it.

_Wood._ By your favour, sir, but he must not.

_Trick._ He'll know my hand, and I am ruined!

_Mrs Brain._ Oh, my misfortune! Mr Woodall, will you suffer your secrets to be discovered!

_Wood._ It belongs to one of them, that's certain.--Mr Limberham, I must desire you to restore this letter; it is from my mistress.

_Trick._ The devil's in him; will he confess?

_Wood._ This paper was sent me from her this morning; and I was so fond of it, that I left it in my glove: If one of the ladies had found it there, I should have been laughed at most unmercifully.

_Mrs Brain._ That's well come off!

_Limb._ My heart was at my mouth, for fear it had been Pug's. [_Aside._]--There 'tis again--Hold, hold; pray let me see it once more: a mistress, said you?

_Aldo._ Yes, a mistress, sir. I'll be his voucher, he has a mistress, and a fair one too.

_Limb._ Do you know it, father Aldo.

_Aldo._ Know it! I know the match is as good as made already: old Woodall and I are all one. You, son, were sent for over on purpose; the articles for her jointure are all concluded, and a friend of mine drew them.

_Limb._ Nay, if father Aldo knows it, I am satisfied.

_Aldo._ But how came you by this letter, son Woodall? let me examine you.

_Wood._ Came by it! (pox, he has _non-plus'd_ me!) How do you say I came by it, father Aldo?

_Aldo._ Why, there's it, now. This morning I met your mistress's father, Mr you know who--

_Wood._ Mr who, sir?

_Aldo._ Nay, you shall excuse me for that; but we are intimate: his name begins with some vowel or consonant, no matter which: Well, her father gave me this very numerical letter, subscribed, for Mr. Woodall.

_Limb._ Before George, and so it is.

_Aldo._ Carry me this letter, quoth he, to your son Woodall; 'tis from my daughter such a one, and then whispered me her name.

_Wood._ Let me see; I'll read it once again.

_Limb._ What, are you not acquainted with the contents of it?

_Wood._ O, your true lover will read you over a letter from his mistress, a thousand times.

_Trick._ Ay, two thousand, if he be in the humour.

_Wood._ Two thousand! then it must be hers. [_Reads to himself._] "Away to your chamber immediately, and I'll give my fool the slip."--The fool! that may be either the keeper, or the husband; but commonly the keeper is the greater. Humh! without subscription! it must be Tricksy.--Father Aldo, pr'ythee rid me of this coxcomb.

_Aldo._ Come, son Limberham, we let our friend Brainsick walk too long alone: Shall we follow him? we must make haste; for I expect a whole bevy of whores, a chamber-full of temptation this afternoon: 'tis my day of audience.

_Limb._ Mr Woodall, we leave you here--you remember? [_Exeunt_ LIMB. _and_ ALDO.

_Wood._ Let me alone.--Ladies, your servant; I have a little private business with a friend of mine.

_Mrs Brain._ Meaning me.--Well, sir, your servant.

_Trick._ Your servant, till we meet again. [_Exeunt severally._