SCENE II.--_The French House. A table, wine and candles.

_Enter_ VINCENT, RANGER, _and_ DAPPERWIT.

_Dap._ Pray, Mr. Ranger, let's have no drinking to-night.

_Vin._ Pray, Mr. Ranger, let's have no Dapperwit to-night.

_Ran._ Nay, nay, Vincent.

_Vin._ A pox! I hate his impertinent chat more than he does the honest Burgundy.

_Dap._ But why should you force wine upon us? we are not all of your gusto.

_Vin._ But why should you force your chawed jests, your damned ends of your mouldy lampoons, and last year's sonnets, upon us? we are not all of your gusto.

_Dap._ The wine makes me sick, let me perish!

_Vin._ Thy rhymes make me spew.

_Ran._ At repartee already! Come, Vincent. I know you would rather have him pledge you: here, Dapperwit--[_Gives him the glass._]--But why are you so eager to have him drink always?

_Vin._ Because he is so eager to talk always, and there is no other way to silence him.

_Enter_ Waiter.

_Wait._ Here is a gentleman desires to speak with Mr. Vincent.

_Vin._ I come. [_Exit_ VINCENT _with_ Waiter.

_Dap._ He may drink, because he is obliged to the bottle for all the wit and courage he has; 'tis not free and natural like yours.

_Ran._ He has more courage than wit, but wants neither.

_Dap._ As a pump gone dry, if you pour no water down you will get none out, so--

_Ran._ Nay, I bar similes too, to-night.

_Dap._ Why, is not the thought new? don't you apprehend it?

_Ran._ Yes, yes, but--

_Dap._ Well, well, will you comply with his sottishness too, and hate brisk things in complaisance to the ignorant dull age? I believe shortly 'twill be as hard to find a patient friend to communicate one's wit to, as a faithful friend to communicate one's secret to. Wit has as few true judges as painting, I see.

_Ran._ All people pretend to be judges of both.

_Dap._ Ay, they pretend; but set you aside, and one or two more--

_Ran._ But why, has Vincent neither courage nor wit?

_Dap._ He has no courage, because he beat his wench for giving me _les doux yeux_ once; and no wit, because he does not comprehend my thoughts; and he is a son of a whore for his ignorance. I take ignorance worse from any man than the lie, because 'tis as much as to say I am no wit.

_Re-enter_ VINCENT.

You need not take any notice, though, to him what I say.

_Vin._ Ranger, there is a woman below in a coach would speak with you.

_Ran._ With me? [_Exit_ RANGER.

_Dap._ This Ranger, Mr. Vincent, is as false to his friend as his wench.

_Vin._ You have no reason to say so, but because he is absent.

_Dap._ 'Tis disobliging to tell a man of his faults to his face. If he had but your grave parts and manly wit, I should adore him; but, a pox! he is a mere buffoon, a jack-pudding, let me perish!

_Vin._ You are an ungrateful fellow. I have heard him maintain you had wit, which was more than e'er you could do for yourself.--I thought you had owned him your Mæcenas.

_Dap._ A pox! he cannot but esteem me, 'tis for his honour; but I cannot but be just for all that--without favour or affection. Yet I confess I love him so well, that I wish he had but the hundredth part of your courage.

_Vin._ He has had courage to save you from many a beating, to my knowledge.

_Dap._ Come, come, I wish the man well, and, next to you, better than any man! and, I am sorry to say it, he has not courage to snuff a candle with his fingers. When he is drunk, indeed, he dares get a clap, or so--and swear at a constable.

_Vin._ Detracting fop! when did you see him desert his friend?

_Dap._ You have a rough kind of a raillery, Mr. Vincent; but since you will have it, (though I love the man heartily, I say,) he deserted me once in breaking of windows, for fear of the constables--

_Re-enter_ RANGER.

But you need not take notice to him of what I tell you; I hate to put a man to the blush.

_Ran._ I have had just now a visit from my mistress, who is as jealous of me as a wife of her husband when she lies in:--my cousin Lydia,--you have heard me speak of her.

_Vin._ But she is more troublesome than a wife that lies in, because she follows you to your haunts. Why do you allow her that privilege before her time?

_Ran._ Faith, I may allow her any privilege, and be too hard for her yet. How do you think I have cheated her to-night?--Women are poor credulous creatures, easily deceived.

_Vin._ We are poor credulous creatures, when we think 'em so.

_Ran._ Intending a ramble to St. James's Park to-night, upon some probable hopes of some fresh game I have in chase, I appointed her to stay at home; with a promise to come to her within this hour, that she might not spoil the scent and prevent my sport.

_Vin._ She'll be even with you when you are married, I warrant you. In the meantime here's her health, Dapperwit.

_Ran._ Now had he rather be at the window, writing her anagram in the glass with his diamond, or biting his nails in the corner for a fine thought to come and divert us with at the table.

_Dap._ No, a pox! I have no wit to-night. I am as barren and hide-bound as one of your damned scribbling poets, who are sots in company for all their wit; as a miser is poor for all his money. How do you like the thought?

_Vin._ Drink, drink!

_Dap._ Well, I can drink this, because I shall be reprieved presently.

_Vin._ Who will be so civil to us?

_Dap._ Sir Simon Addleplot:--I have bespoke him a supper here, for he treats to-night a new rich mistress.

_Ran._ That spark, who has his fruitless designs upon the bed-ridden rich widow, down to the suckling heiress in her pissing-clout. He was once the sport, but now the public grievance, of all the fortunes in town; for he watches them like a younger brother that is afraid to be mumped of his snip,[29] and they cannot steal a marriage, nor stay their stomachs, but he must know it.

_Dap._ He has now pitched his nets for Gripe's daughter, the rich scrivener, and serves him as a clerk to get admission to her; which the watchful fop her father denies to all others.

_Ran._ I thought you had been nibbling at her once, under pretence of love to her aunt.

_Dap._ I confess I have the same design yet, and Addleplot is but my agent, whilst he thinks me his. He brings me letters constantly from her, and carries mine back.

_Vin._ Still betraying your best friends!

_Dap._ I cannot in honour but betray him. Let me perish! the poor young wench is taken with my person, and would scratch through four walls to come to me.

_Vin._ 'Tis a sign she is kept up close indeed.

_Dap._ Betray him! I'll not be traitor to love for any man.

_Enter_ Sir SIMON ADDLEPLOT _with the_ Waiter.

_Sir Sim._ Know 'em! you are a saucy Jack-straw to question me, faith and troth; I know everybody, and everybody knows me.

_All._ Sir Simon! Sir Simon! Sir Simon!

_Ran._ And you are a welcome man to everybody.

_Sir Sim._ Now, son of a whore, do I know the gentlemen?--A dog! would have had a shilling of me before he would let me come to you!

_Ran._ The rogue has been bred at Court, sure.--Get you out, sirrah. [_Exit_ Waiter.

_Sir Sim._ He has been bred at a French-house, where they are more unreasonable.

_Vin._ Here's to you, Sir Simon.

_Sir Sim._ I cannot drink, for I have a mistress within; though I would not have the people of the house to know it.

_Ran._ You need not be ashamed of your mistresses, for they are commonly rich.

_Sir Sim._ And because she is rich, I would conceal her; for I never had a rich mistress yet, but one or other got her from me presently, faith and troth.

_Ran._ But this is an ill place to conceal a mistress in; every waiter is an intelligencer to your rivals.

_Sir Sim._ I have a trick for that:--I'll let no waiters come into the room; I'll lay the cloth myself rather.

_Ran._ But who is your mistress?

_Sir Sim._ Your servant,--your servant, Mr. Ranger.

_Vin._ Come, will you pledge me?

_Sir Sim._ No, I'll spare your wine, if you will spare me Dapperwit's company; I came for that.

_Vin._ You do us a double favour, to take him and leave the wine.

_Sir Sim._ Come, come, Dapperwit.

_Ran._ Do not go, unless he will suffer us to see his mistress too. [_Aside to_ DAPPERWIT.

_Sir Sim._ Come, come, man.

_Dap._ Would you have me so uncivil as to leave my company?--they'll take it ill.

_Sir Sim._ I cannot find her talk without thee.--Pray, gentlemen, persuade Mr. Dapperwit to go with me.

_Ran._ We will not hinder him of better company.

_Dap._ Yours is too good to be left rudely.

_Sir Sim._ Nay, gentlemen, I would desire your company too, if you knew the lady.

_Dap._ They know her as well as I; you say I know her not.

_Sir Sim._ You are not everybody.

_Ran._ Perhaps we do know the lady, Sir Simon.

_Sir Sim._ You do not, you do not: none of you ever saw her in your lives;--but if you could be secret, and civil--

_Ran._ We have drunk yet but our bottle a-piece.

_Sir Sim._ But will you be civil, Mr. Vincent?

_Ran._ He dares not look a woman in the face under three bottles.

_Sir Sim._ Come along then. But can you be civil, gentlemen? will you be civil, gentlemen? pray be civil if you can, and you shall see her.

[_Exit, and returns with_ Lady FLIPPANT _and_ Mrs. JOYNER.

_Dap._ How, has he got his jilt here! [_Aside._

_Ran._ The widow Flippant! [_Aside._

_Vin._ Is this the woman that we never saw! [_Aside._

_L. Flip._ Does he bring us into company!--and Dapperwit one! Though I had married the fool, I thought to have reserved the wit as well as other ladies. [_Aside._

_Sir Sim._ Nay, look as long as you will, madam, you will find them civil gentlemen, and good company.

_L. Flip._ I am not in doubt of their civility, but yours.

_Mrs. Joyn._ You'll never leave snubbing your servants! Did you not promise to use him kindly? [_Aside to_ Lady FLIPPANT.

_L. Flip._ [_Aside to_ Mrs. JOYNER.] 'Tis true.--[_Aloud._] We wanted no good company, Sir Simon, as long as we had yours.

_Sir Sim._ But they wanted good company, therefore I forced 'em to accept of yours.

_L. Flip._ They will not think the company good they were forced into, certainly.

_Sir Sim._ A pox! I must be using the words in fashion, though I never have any luck with 'em. Mrs. Joyner, help me off.

_Mrs. Joyn._ I suppose, madam, he means the gentlemen wanted not inclination to your company, but confidence to desire so great an honour; therefore he forced 'em.

_Dap._ What makes this bawd here? Sure, mistress, you bawds should be like the small cards, though at first you make up a pack, yet, when the play begins, you should be put out as useless.

_Mrs. Joyn._ Well, well, gibing companion: you would have the pimps kept in only? you would so?

_Vin._ What, they are quarrelling!

_Ran._ Pimp and bawd agree now-a-days like doctor and apothecary.

_Sir Sim._ Try, madam, if they are not civil gentlemen; talk with 'em, while I go lay the cloth--no waiter comes here.--[_Aside._] My mother used to tell me, I should avoid all occasions of talking before my mistress, because silence is a sign of love as well as prudence. [_Lays the cloth._

_L. Flip._ Methinks you look a little yellow on't, Mr. Dapperwit. I hope you do not censure me because you find me passing away a night with this fool:--he is not a man to be jealous of, sure.

_Dap._ You are not a lady to be jealous of, sure.

_L. Flip._ No, certainly.--But why do you look as if you were jealous then?

_Dap._ If I had met you in Whetstone's park,[30] with a drunken foot-soldier, I should not have been jealous of you.

_L. Flip._ Fy, fy! now you are jealous, certainly; for people always, when they grow jealous, grow rude:--but I can pardon it since it proceeds from love certainly.

_Dap._ I am out of all hopes to be rid of this eternal old acquaintance: when I jeer her, she thinks herself praised; now I call her whore in plain English she thinks I am jealous. [_Aside._

_L. Flip._ Sweet Mr. Dapperwit, be not so censorious, (I speak for your sake, not my own,) for jealousy is a great torment, but my honour cannot suffer certainly.

_Dap._ No, certainly; but the greatest torment I have is--your love.

_L. Flip._ Alas! sweet Mr. Dapperwit, indeed love is a torment: but 'tis a sweet torment; but jealousy is a bitter torment.--I do not go about to cure you of the torment of my love.

_Dap._ 'Tis a sign so.

_L. Flip._ Come, come, look up, man; is that a rival to contest with you?

_Dap._ I will contest with no rival, not with my old rival your coachman; but they have heartily my resignation; and, to do you a favour, but myself a greater, I will help to tie the knot you are fumbling for now, betwixt your cully here and you.

_L. Flip._ Go, go, I take that kind of jealousy worst of all, to suspect I would be debauched to beastly matrimony.--But who are those gentlemen, pray? are they men of fortunes, Mrs. Joyner?

_Mrs. Joyn._ I believe so.

_L. Flip._ Do you believe so, indeed?--Gentlemen--[_Advancing towards_ RANGER _and_ VINCENT.

_Ran._ If the civility we owe to ladies had not controlled our envy to Mr. Dapperwit, we had interrupted ere this your private conversation.

_L. Flip._ Your interruption, sir, had been most civil and obliging;--for our discourse was of marriage.

_Ran._ That is a subject, madam, as grateful as common.

_L. Flip._ O fy, fy! are you of that opinion too? I cannot suffer any to talk of it in my company.

_Ran._ Are you married then, madam?

_L. Flip._ No, certainly.

_Ran._ I am sure so much beauty cannot despair of it.

_L. Flip._ Despair of it!--

_Ran._ Only those that are married, or cannot be married, hate to hear of marriage.

_L. Flip._ Yet you must know, sir, my aversion to marriage is such, that you, nor no man breathing, shall ever persuade me to it.

_Ran._ Cursed be the man should do so rude a thing as to persuade you to anything against your inclination! I would not do it for the world, madam.

_L. Flip._ Come, come, though you seem to be a civil gentleman, I think you no better than your neighbours. I do not know a man of you all that will not thrust a woman up into a corner, and then talk an hour to her impertinently of marriage.

_Ran._ You would find me another man in a corner, I assure you, madam; for you should not have a word of marriage from me, whatsoever you might find in my actions of it; I hate talking as much as you.

_L. Flip._ I hate it extremely.

_Ran._ I am your man then, madam; for I find just the same fault with your sex as you do with ours:--I ne'er could have to do with woman in my life, but still she would be impertinently talking of marriage to me.

_L. Flip._ Observe that, Mrs. Joyner.

_Dap._ Pray, Mr. Ranger, let's go; I had rather drink with Mr. Vincent, than stay here with you; besides 'tis Park-time.

_Ran._ [_To_ DAPPERWIT.] I come.--[_To_ Lady FLIPPANT.] Since you are a lady that hate marriage, I'll do you the service to withdraw the company; for those that hate marriage hate loss of time.

_L. Flip._ Will you go then, sir? but before you go, sir, pray tell me is your aversion to marriage real?

_Ran._ As real as yours.

_L. Flip._ If it were no more real than mine--[_Aside._

_Ran._ Your servant, madam. [_Turns to go._

_L. Flip._ But do you hate marriage certainly? [_Plucks him back._

_Ran._ Certainly.

_L. Flip._ Come, I cannot believe it: you dissemble it only because I pretend it.

_Ran._ Do you but pretend it then, madam?

_L. Flip._ [_Aside_] I shall discover myself--[_Aloud_] I mean, because I hold against it, you do the same in complaisance:--for I have heard say, cunning men think to bring the coy and untractable women to tameness as they do some mad people--by humouring their frenzies.

_Ran._ I am none of those cunning men, yet have too much wit to entertain the presumption of designing upon you.

_L. Flip._ 'Twere no such presumption neither.

_Dap._ Come away; 'sdeath! don't you see your danger?

_Ran._ Those aims are for Sir Simon.--Good night, madam.

_L. Flip._ Will you needs go, then?--[_To_ Sir SIMON] The gentlemen are a-going, Sir Simon; will you let 'em?

_Sir Sim._ Nay, madam, if you cannot keep 'em, how should I?

_L. Flip._ Stay, sir; because you hate marriage, I'll sing you a new song against it. [_Sings._

A spouse I do hate, For either she's false or she's jealous; But give us a mate Who nothing will ask us or tell us.

She stands on no terms, Nor chaffers, by way of indenture, Her love for your farms; But takes her kind man at a venture.

If all prove not right, Without an act, process, or warning, From wife for a night You may be divorced in the morning.

When parents are slaves, Their brats cannot be any other; Great wits and great braves Have always a punk[31] to their mother.

Though it be the fashion for women of quality to sing any song whatever, because the words are not distinguished, yet I should have blushed to have done it now, but for you, sir.

_Ran._ The song is edifying, the voice admirable--and, once more, I am your servant, madam.

_L. Flip._ What, will you go too, Mr Dapperwit?

_Sir Sim._ Pray, Mr. Dapperwit, do not you go too.

_Dap._ I am engaged.

_Sir Sim._ Well, if we cannot have their company, we will not have their room: ours is a private backroom; they have paid their reckoning, let's go thither again.

_L. Flip._ But pray, sweet Mr. Dapperwit, do not go. Keep him, Sir Simon.

_Sir Sim._ I cannot keep him. [_Exeunt_ VINCENT, RANGER, _and_ DAPPERWIT.

It is impossible; (the world is so;) One cannot keep one's friend, and mistress too. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE SECOND.