SCENE II.--_A Bedchamber in_ PINCHWIFE'S _House.

PINCHWIFE _and_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE _discovered._

_Pinch._ Come, tell me, I say.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Lord! han't I told it a hundred times over?

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] I would try, if in the repetition of the ungrateful tale, I could find her altering it in the least circumstance; for if her story be false, she is so too.--[_Aloud._] Come, how was't, baggage?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Lord, what pleasure you take to hear it sure!

_Pinch._ No, you take more in telling it I find; but speak, how was't?

_Mrs. Pinch._ He carried me up into the house next to the Exchange.

_Pinch._ So, and you two were only in the room!

_Mrs. Pinch._ Yes, for he sent away a youth that was there, for some dried fruit, and China oranges.

_Pinch._ Did he so? Damn him for it--and for--

_Mrs. Pinch._ But presently came up the gentlewoman of the house.

_Pinch._ O, 'twas well she did; but what did he do whilst the fruit came?

_Mrs. Pinch._ He kissed me a hundred times, and told me he fancied he kissed my fine sister, meaning me, you know, whom he said he loved with all his soul, and bid me be sure to tell her so, and to desire her to be at her window, by eleven of the clock this morning, and he would walk under it at that time.

_Pinch._ And he was as good as his word, very punctual; a pox reward him for't. [_Aside._

_Mrs. Pinch._ Well, and he said if you were not within, he would come up to her, meaning me, you know, bud, still.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] So--he knew her certainly; but for this confession, I am obliged to her simplicity.--[_Aloud._] But what, you stood very still when he kissed you?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Yes, I warrant you; would you have had me discovered myself?

_Pinch._ But you told me he did some beastliness to you, as you call it; what was't?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Why, he put--

_Pinch._ What?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Why, he put the tip of his tongue between my lips, and so mousled me--and I said, I'd bite it.

_Pinch._ An eternal canker seize it, for a dog!

_Mrs. Pinch._ Nay, you need not be so angry with him neither, for to say truth, he has the sweetest breath I ever knew.

_Pinch._ The devil! you were satisfied with it then, and would do it again?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Not unless he should force me.

_Pinch._ Force you, changeling! I tell you, no woman can be forced.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Yes, but she may sure, by such a one as he, for he's a proper, goodly, strong man; 'tis hard, let me tell you, to resist him.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] So, 'tis plain she loves him, yet she has not love enough to make her conceal it from me; but the sight of him will increase her aversion for me and love for him; and that love instruct her how to deceive me and satisfy him, all idiot as she is. Love! 'twas he gave women first their craft, their art of deluding. Out of Nature's hands they came plain, open, silly, and fit for slaves, as she and Heaven intended 'em; but damned Love--well--I must strangle that little monster whilst I can deal with him.--[_Aloud._] Go fetch pen, ink, and paper out of the next room.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Yes, bud. [_Exit._

_Pinch._ Why should women have more invention in love than men? It can only be, because they have more desires, more soliciting passions, more lust, and more of the devil.

_Re-enter_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE.

Come, minx, sit down and write.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Ay, dear bud, but I can't do't very well.

_Pinch._ I wish you could not at all.

_Mrs. Pinch._ But what should I write for?

_Pinch._ I'll have you write a letter to your lover.

_Mrs. Pinch._ O Lord, to the fine gentleman a letter!

_Pinch._ Yes, to the fine gentleman.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Lord, you do but jeer: sure you jest.

_Pinch._ I am not so merry: come, write as I bid you.

_Mrs. Pinch._ What, do you think I am a fool?

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] She's afraid I would not dictate any love to him, therefore she's unwilling.--[_Aloud._] But you had best begin.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Indeed, and indeed, but I won't, so I won't.

_Pinch._ Why?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Because he's in town; you may send for him if you will.

_Pinch._ Very well, you would have him brought to you; is it come to this? I say, take the pen and write, or you'll provoke me.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Lord, what d'ye make a fool of me for? Don't I know that letters are never writ but from the country to London, and from London into the country? Now he's in town, and I am in town too; therefore I can't write to him, you know.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] So, I am glad it is no worse; she is innocent enough yet.--[_Aloud._] Yes, you may, when your husband bids you, write letters to people that are in town.

_Mrs. Pinch._ O, may I so? then I'm satisfied.

_Pinch._ Come, begin:--"Sir"--[_Dictates._

_Mrs. Pinch._ Shan't I say, "Dear Sir?"--You know one says always something more than bare "sir."

_Pinch._ Write as I bid you, or I will write whore with this penknife in your face.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Nay, good bud--"Sir"--[_Writes._

_Pinch._ "Though I suffered last night your nauseous, loathed kisses and embraces"--Write!

_Mrs. Pinch_ Nay, why should I say so? You know I told you he had a sweet breath.

_Pinch._ Write!

_Mrs. Pinch._ Let me but put out "loathed."

_Pinch._ Write, I say!

_Mrs. Pinch._ Well then. [_Writes._

_Pinch._ Let's see, what have you writ?--[_Takes the paper and reads._] "Though I suffered last night your kisses and embraces"--Thou impudent creature! where is "nauseous" and "loathed?"

_Mrs. Pinch._ I can't abide to write such filthy words.

_Pinch._ Once more write as I'd have you, and question it not, or I will spoil thy writing with this. I will stab out those eyes that cause my mischief. [_Holds up the penknife._

_Mrs. Pinch._ O Lord! I will.

_Pinch._ So--so--let's see now.--[_Reads._] "Though I suffered last night your nauseous, loathed kisses and embraces"--go on--"yet I would not have you presume that you shall ever repeat them"--so--[_She writes._

_Mrs. Pinch._ I have writ it.

_Pinch._ On, then--"I then concealed myself from your knowledge, to avoid your insolencies."--[_She writes._

_Mrs. Pinch._ So--

_Pinch._ "The same reason, now I am out of your hands--" [_She writes._

_Mrs. Pinch._ So--

_Pinch._ "Makes me own to you my unfortunate, though innocent frolic, of being in man's clothes"--[_She writes._

_Mrs. Pinch._ So--

_Pinch._ "That you may for evermore cease to pursue her, who hates and detests you"--[_She writes on._

_Mrs. Pinch._ So--heigh! [_Sighs._

_Pinch._ What, do you sigh?--"detests you--as much as she loves her husband and her honour--"

_Mrs. Pinch._ I vow, husband, he'll ne'er believe I should write such a letter.

_Pinch._ What, he'd expect a kinder from you? Come, now your name only.

_Mrs. Pinch._ What, shan't I say "Your most faithful humble servant till death?"

_Pinch._ No, tormenting fiend!--[_Aside._] Her style, I find, would be very soft.--[_Aloud._] Come, wrap it up now whilst I go fetch wax and a candle; and write on the backside, "For Mr. Horner." [_Exit._

_Mrs. Pinch._ "For Mr. Horner."--So, I am glad he has told me his name. Dear Mr. Horner! but why should I send thee such a letter that will vex thee, and make thee angry with me?--Well, I will not send it.--Ay, but then my husband will kill me--for I see plainly he won't let me love Mr. Horner--but what care I for my husband?--I won't, so I won't, send poor Mr. Horner such a letter--But then my husband--but oh, what if I writ at bottom my husband made me write it?--Ay, but then my husband would see't--Can one have no shift? ah, a London woman would have had a hundred presently. Stay--what if I should write a letter, and wrap it up like this, and write upon't too? Ay, but then my husband would see't--I don't know what to do.--But yet evads I'll try, so I will--for I will not send this letter to poor Mr. Horner, come what will on't.

"Dear, sweet Mr. Horner"--[_Writes and repeats what she writes._]--so--"my husband would have me send you a base, rude, unmannerly letter; but I won't"--so--"and would have me forbid you loving me; but I won't"--so--"and would have me say to you, I hate you, poor Mr. Horner; but I won't tell a lie for him"--there--"for I'm sure if you and I were in the country at cards together"--so--"I could not help treading on your toe under the table"--so--"or rubbing knees with you, and staring in your face, till you saw me"--very well--"and then looking down, and blushing for an hour together"--so--"but I must make haste before my husband comes: and now he has taught me to write letters, you shall have longer ones from me, who am, dear, dear, poor, dear Mr. Horner, your most humble friend, and servant to command till death,--Margery Pinchwife."

Stay, I must give him a hint at bottom--so--now wrap it up just like t'other--so--now write "For Mr. Horner"--But oh now, what shall I do with it? for here comes my husband.

_Re-enter_ PINCHWIFE.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] I have been detained by a sparkish coxcomb, who pretended a visit to me; but I fear 'twas to my wife--[_Aloud._] What, have you done?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Ay, ay, bud, just now.

_Pinch._ Let's see't: what d'ye tremble for? what, you would not have it go?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Here--[_Aside._] No, I must not give him that: so I had been served if I had given him this. [_He opens and reads the first letter._

_Pinch._ Come, where's the wax and seal?

_Mrs. Pinch._ [_Aside._] Lord, what shall I do now? Nay, then I have it--[_Aloud._] Pray let me see't. Lord, you think me so arrant a fool, I cannot seal a letter; I will do't, so I will. [_Snatches the letter from him, changes it for the other, seals it, and delivers it to him._

_Pinch._ Nay, I believe you will learn that, and other things too, which I would not have you.

_Mrs. Pinch._ So, han't I done it curiously[77]?--[_Aside._] I think I have; there's my letter going to Mr. Horner, since he'll needs have me send letters to folks.

_Pinch._ 'Tis very well; but I warrant, you would not have it go now?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Yes, indeed, but I would, bud, now.

_Pinch._ Well, you are a good girl then. Come, let me lock you up in your chamber, till I come back; and be sure you come not within three strides of the window when I am gone, for I have a spy in the street.--[_Exit_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE, PINCHWIFE _locks the door._] At least, 'tis fit she think so. If we do not cheat women, they'll cheat us, and fraud may be justly used with secret enemies, of which a wife is the most dangerous; and he that has a handsome one to keep, and a frontier town, must provide against treachery, rather than open force. Now I have secured all within, I'll deal with the foe without, with false intelligence. [_Holds up the letter. Exit._