SCENE III.--HORNER'S _Lodging

_Enter_ HORNER _and_ Quack.

_Quack._ Well, sir, how fadges[78] the new design? have you not the luck of all your brother projectors, to deceive only yourself at last?

_Horn._ No, good domine doctor, I deceive you, it seems, and others too; for the grave matrons, and old, rigid husbands think me as unfit for love, as they are; but their wives, sisters, and daughters know, some of 'em, better things already.

_Quack._ Already!

_Horn._ Already, I say. Last night I was drunk with half-a-dozen of your civil persons, as you call 'em, and people of honour, and so was made free of their society and dressing-rooms for ever hereafter; and am already come to the privileges of sleeping upon their pallets, warming smocks, tying shoes and garters, and the like, doctor, already, already, doctor.

_Quack._ You have made good use of your time, sir.

_Horn._ I tell thee, I am now no more interruption to 'em, when they sing, or talk bawdy, than a little squab French page who speaks no English.

_Quack._ But do civil persons and women of honour drink, and sing bawdy songs?

_Horn._ O, amongst friends, amongst friends. For your bigots in honour are just like those in religion; they fear the eye of the world more than the eye of Heaven; and think there is no virtue, but railing at vice, and no sin, but giving scandal. They rail at a poor, little, kept player, and keep themselves some young, modest pulpit comedian to be privy to their sins in their closets, not to tell 'em of them in their chapels.

_Quack._ Nay, the truth on't is, priests, amongst the women now, have quite got the better of us lay-confessors, physicians.

_Horn._ And they are rather their patients; but--

_Enter_ Lady FIDGET, _looking about her._

Now we talk of women of honour, here comes one. Step behind the screen there, and but observe, if I have not particular privileges with the women of reputation already, doctor, already. [Quack _retires._

_Lady Fid._ Well, Horner, am not I a woman of honour? you see, I'm as good as my word.

_Horn._ And you shall see, madam, I'll not be behindhand with you in honour; and I'll be as good as my word too, if you please but to withdraw into the next room.

_Lady Fid._ But first, my dear sir, you must promise to have a care of my dear honour.

_Horn._ If you talk a word more of your honour, you'll make me incapable to wrong it. To talk of honour in the mysteries of love, is like talking of Heaven or the Deity, in an operation of witchcraft, just when you are employing the devil: it makes the charm impotent.

_Lady Fid._ Nay, fy! let us not be smutty. But you talk of mysteries and bewitching to me; I don't understand you.

_Horn._ I tell you, madam, the word money in a mistress's mouth, at such a nick of time, is not a more disheartening sound to a younger brother, than that of honour to an eager lover like myself.

_Lady Fid._ But you can't blame a lady of my reputation to be chary.

_Horn._ Chary! I have been chary of it already, by the report I have caused of myself.

_Lady Fid._ Ay, but if you should ever let other women know that dear secret, it would come out. Nay, you must have a great care of your conduct; for my acquaintance are so censorious, (oh, 'tis a wicked, censorious world, Mr. Horner!) I say, are so censorious, and detracting, that perhaps they'll talk to the prejudice of my honour, though you should not let them know the dear secret.

_Horn._ Nay, madam, rather than they shall prejudice your honour, I'll prejudice theirs; and, to serve you, I'll lie with 'em all, make the secret their own, and then they'll keep it. I am a Machiavel in love, madam.

_Lady Fid._ O, no sir, not that way.

_Horn._ Nay, the devil take me, if censorious women are to be silenced any other way.

_Lady Fid._ A secret is better kept, I hope, by a single person than a multitude; therefore pray do not trust any body else with it, dear, dear Mr. Horner. [_Embracing him._

_Enter_ Sir JASPER FIDGET.

_Sir Jasp._ How now!

_Lady Fid._ [_Aside._] O my husband!--prevented--and what's almost as bad, found with my arms about another man--that will appear too much--what shall I say?--[_Aloud._] Sir Jasper, come hither: I am trying if Mr. Horner were ticklish, and he's as ticklish as can be. I love to torment the confounded toad; let you and I tickle him.

_Sir Jasp._ No, your ladyship will tickle him better without me, I suppose. But is this your buying china? I thought you had been at the china-house.

_Horn._ [_Aside._] China-house! that's my cue, I must take it.--[_Aloud._] A pox! can't you keep your impertinent wives at home? Some men are troubled with the husbands, but I with the wives; but I'd have you to know, since I cannot be your journeyman by night, I will not be your drudge by day, to squire your wife about, and be your man of straw, or scarecrow only to pies and jays, that would be nibbling at your forbidden fruit; I shall be shortly the hackney gentleman-usher of the town.

_Sir Jasp._ [_Aside._] He! he! he! poor fellow, he's in the right on't, faith. To squire women about for other folks is as ungrateful an employment, as to tell money for other folks.--[_Aloud._] He! he! he! be'n't angry, Horner.

_Lady Fid._ No, 'tis I have more reason to be angry, who am left by you, to go abroad indecently alone; or, what is more indecent, to pin myself upon such ill-bred people of your acquaintance as this is.

_Sir Jasp._ Nay, prithee, what has he done?

_Lady Fid._ Nay, he has done nothing.

_Sir Jasp._ But what d'ye take ill, if he has done nothing?

_Lady Fid._ Ha! ha! ha! faith, I can't but laugh however; why, d'ye think the unmannerly toad would come down to me to the coach? I was fain to come up to fetch him, or go without him, which I was resolved not to do; for he knows china very well, and has himself very good, but will not let me see it, lest I should beg some; but I will find it out, and have what I came for yet.

_Horn._ [_Apart to_ Lady FIDGET, _as he follows her to the door._] Lock the door, madam.--[_Exit_ Lady FIDGET, _and locks the door._]--[_Aloud._] So, she has got into my chamber and locked me out. Oh the impertinency of woman-kind! Well, Sir Jasper, plain-dealing is a jewel; if ever you suffer your wife to trouble me again here, she shall carry you home a pair of horns; by my lord mayor she shall; though I cannot furnish you myself, you are sure, yet I'll find a way.

_Sir Jasp._ Ha! ha! he!--[_Aside._] At my first coming in, and finding her arms about him, tickling him it seems, I was half jealous, but now I see my folly.--[_Aloud._] He! he! he! poor Horner.

_Horn._ Nay, though you laugh now, 'twill be my turn ere long. Oh women, more impertinent, more cunning, and more mischievous than their monkeys, and to me almost as ugly!--Now is she throwing my things about and rifling all I have; but I'll get into her the back way, and so rifle her for it.

_Sir Jasp._ Ha! ha! ha! poor angry Horner.

_Horn._ Stay here a little, I'll ferret her out to you presently, I warrant. _Exit at the other door._ [Sir JASPER _talks through the door to his_ Wife, _she answers from within._

_Sir Jasp._ Wife! my Lady Fidget! wife! he is coming in to you the back way.

_Lady Fid._ Let him come, and welcome, which way he will.

_Sir Jasp._ He'll catch you, and use you roughly, and be too strong for you.

_L. Fid._ Don't you trouble yourself, let him if he can.

_Quack._ [_Aside._] This indeed I could not have believed from him, nor any but my own eyes.

_Enter_ Mrs. SQUEAMISH.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Where's this woman-hater, this toad, this ugly, greasy, dirty sloven?

_Sir Jasp._ [_Aside._] So, the women all will have him ugly; methinks he is a comely person, but his wants make his form contemptible to 'em; and 'tis e'en as my wife said yesterday, talking of him, that a proper handsome eunuch was as ridiculous a thing as a gigantic coward.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Sir Jasper, your servant: where is the odious beast?

_Sir Jasp._ He's within in his chamber, with my wife; she's playing the wag with him.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Is she so? and he's a clownish beast, he'll give her no quarter, he'll play the wag with her again, let me tell you: come, let's go help her--What, the door's locked?

_Sir Jasp._ Ay, my wife locked it.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Did she so? let's break it open then.

_Sir Jasp._ No, no, he'll do her no hurt.

_Mrs. Squeam._ [_Aside._] But is there no other way to get in to 'em? whither goes this? I will disturb 'em. [_Exit at another door._

_Enter_ Old Lady SQUEAMISH.

_L. Squeam._ Where is this harlotry, this impudent baggage, this rambling tomrigg?[79] O Sir Jasper, I'm glad to see you here; did you not see my vile grandchild come in hither just now?

_Sir Jasp._ Yes.

_L. Squeam._ Ay, but where is she then? where is she? Lord, Sir Jasper, I have e'en rattled myself to pieces in pursuit of her: but can you tell what she makes here? they say below, no woman lodges here.

_Sir Jasp._ No.

_L. Squeam._ No! what does she here then? say, if it be not a woman's lodging, what makes she here? But are you sure no woman lodges here?

_Sir Jasp._ No, nor no man neither, this is Mr. Horner's lodging.

_L. Squeam._ Is it so, are you sure?

_Sir Jasp._ Yes, yes.

_L. Squeam._ So; then there's no hurt in't, I hope. But where is he?

_Sir Jasp._ He's in the next room with my wife.

_L. Squeam._ Nay, if you trust him with your wife, I may with my Biddy. They say, he's a merry harmless man now, e'en as harmless a man as ever came out of Italy with a good voice, and as pretty, harmless company for a lady, as a snake without his teeth.

_Sir Jasp._ Ay, ay, poor man.

_Re-enter_ Mrs. SQUEAMISH.

_Mrs. Squeam._ I can't find 'em.--Oh, are you here, grandmother? I followed, you must know, my Lady Fidget hither; 'tis the prettiest lodging, and I have been staring on the prettiest pictures--

_Re-enter_ Lady FIDGET _with a piece of china in her hand, and_ HORNER _following._

_L. Fid._ And I have been toiling and moiling for the prettiest piece of china, my dear.

_Horn._ Nay, she has been too hard for me, do what I could.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Oh, lord, I'll have some china too. Good Mr. Horner, don't think to give other people china, and me none; come in with me too.

_Horn._ Upon my honour, I have none left now.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Nay, nay, I have known you deny your china before now, but you shan't put me off so. Come.

_Horn._ This lady had the last there.

_L. Fid._ Yes indeed, madam, to my certain knowledge, he has no more left.

_Mrs. Squeam._ O, but it may be he may have some you could not find.

_L. Fid._ What, d'ye think if he had had any left, I would not have had it too? for we women of quality never think we have china enough.

_Horn._ Do not take it ill, I cannot make china for you all, but I will have a roll-waggon for you too, another time.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Thank you, dear toad.

_L. Fid._ What do you mean by that promise? [_Aside to_ HORNER.

_Horn._ Alas, she has an innocent, literal understanding. [_Aside to_ Lady FIDGET.

_L. Squeam._ Poor Mr. Horner! he has enough to do to please you all, I see.

_Horn._ Ay, madam, you see how they use me.

_L. Squeam._ Poor gentleman, I pity you.

_Horn._ I thank you, madam: I could never find pity, but from such reverend ladies as you are; the young ones will never spare a man.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Come, come, beast, and go dine with us; for we shall want a man at ombre after dinner.

_Horn._ That's all their use of me, madam, you see.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Come, sloven, I'll lead you, to be sure of you. [_Pulls him by the cravat._

_L. Squeam._ Alas, poor man, how she tugs him! Kiss, kiss her; that's the way to make such nice women quiet.

_Horn._ No, madam, that remedy is worse than the torment; they know I dare suffer anything rather than do it.

_L. Squeam._ Prithee kiss her, and I'll give you her picture in little, that you admired so last night; prithee do.

_Horn._ Well, nothing but that could bribe me: I love a woman only in effigy, and good painting as much as I hate them.--I'll do't, for I could adore the devil well painted. [_Kisses_ Mrs. SQUEAMISH.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Foh, you filthy toad! nay, now I've done jesting.

_L. Squeam._ Ha! ha I ha! I told you so.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Foh! a kiss of his--

_Sir Jasp._ Has no more hurt in't than one of my spaniel's.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Nor no more good neither.

_Quack._ I will now believe anything he tells me. [_Aside._

_Enter_ PINCHWIFE.

_L. Fid._ O lord, here's a man! Sir Jasper, my mask, my mask! I would not be seen here for the world.

_Sir Jasp._ What, not when I am with you?

_L. Fid._ No, no, my honour--let's be gone.

_Mrs. Squeam._ Oh grandmother, let's be gone; make haste, make haste, I know not how he may censure us.

_L. Fid._ Be found in the lodging of anything like a man!--Away. [_Exeunt_ Sir JASPER FIDGET, Lady FIDGET, Old Lady SQUEAMISH, _and_ Mrs. SQUEAMISH.

_Quack._ What's here? another cuckold? he looks like one, and none else sure have any business with him. [_Aside._

_Horn._ Well, what brings my dear friend hither?

_Pinch._ Your impertinency.

_Horn._ My impertinency!--why, you gentlemen that have got handsome wives, think you have a privilege of saying anything to your friends, and are as brutish as if you were our creditors.

_Pinch._ No, sir, I'll ne'er trust you any way.

_Horn._ But why not, dear Jack? why diffide in me thou know'st so well?

_Pinch._ Because I do know you so well.

_Horn._ Han't I been always thy friend, honest Jack, always ready to serve thee, in love or battle, before thou wert married, and am so still?

_Pinch._ I believe so, you would be my second now, indeed.

_Horn._ Well then, dear Jack, why so unkind, so grum, so strange to me? Come, prithee kiss me, dear rogue: gad I was always, I say, and am still as much thy servant as--

_Pinch._ As I am yours, sir. What, you would send a kiss to my wife, is that it?

_Horn._ So, there 'tis--a man can't show his friendship to a married man, but presently he talks of his wife to you. Prithee, let thy wife alone, and let thee and I be all one, as we were wont. What, thou art as shy of my kindness, as a Lombard-street alderman of a courtier's civility at Locket's![80]

_Pinch._ But you are over-kind to me, as kind as if I were your cuckold already; yet I must confess you ought to be kind and civil to me, since I am so kind, so civil to you, as to bring you this: look you there, sir. [_Delivers him a letter._

_Horn._ What is't?

_Pinch._ Only a love-letter, sir.

_Horn._ From whom?--how! this is from your wife--hum--and hum--[_Reads._

_Pinch._ Even from my wife, sir: am I not wondrous kind and civil to you now too?--[_Aside._] But you'll not think her so.

_Horn._ Ha! is this a trick of his or hers? [_Aside._

_Pinch._ The gentleman's surprised I find.--What, you expected a kinder letter?

_Horn._ No faith, not I, how could I?

_Pinch._ Yes, yes, I'm sure you did. A man so well made as you are, must needs be disappointed, if the women declare not their passion at first sight or opportunity.

_Horn._ [_Aside._] But what should this mean? Stay, the postscript.--[_Reads aside._] "Be sure you love me, whatsoever my husband says to the contrary, and let him not see this, lest he should come home and pinch me, or kill my squirrel."--It seems he knows not what the letter contains.

_Pinch._ Come, ne'er wonder at it so much.

_Horn._ Faith, I can't help it.

_Pinch._ Now, I think I have deserved your infinite friendship and kindness, and have showed myself sufficiently an obliging kind friend and husband; am I not so, to bring a letter from my wife to her gallant?

_Horn._ Ay, the devil take me, art thou, the most obliging, kind friend and husband in the world, ha! ha!

_Pinch._ Well, you may be merry, sir; but in short I must tell you, sir, my honour will suffer no jesting.

_Horn._ What dost thou mean?

_Pinch._ Does the letter want a comment? Then, know, sir, though I have been so civil a husband, as to bring you a letter from my wife, to let you kiss and court her to my face, I will not be a cuckold, sir, I will not.

_Horn._ Thou art mad with jealousy. I never saw thy wife in my life but at the play yesterday, and I know not if it were she or no. I court her, kiss her!

_Pinch._ I will not be a cuckold, I say; there will be danger in making me a cuckold.

_Horn._ Why, wert thou not well cured of thy last clap?

_Pinch._ I wear a sword.

_Horn._ It should be taken from thee, lest thou shouldst do thyself a mischief with it; thou art mad, man.

_Pinch._ As mad as I am, and as merry as you are, I must have more reason from you ere we part. I say again, though you kissed and courted last night my wife in man's clothes, as she confesses in her letter--

_Horn._ Ha! [_Aside._

_Pinch._ Both she and I say, you must not design it again, for you have mistaken your woman, as you have done your man.

_Horn._ [_Aside._] O--I understand something now--[_Aloud._] Was that thy wife! Why wouldst thou not tell me 'twas she? Faith, my freedom with her was your fault, not mine.

_Pinch._ Faith, so 'twas. [_Aside._

_Horn._ Fy! I'd never do't to a woman before her husband's face, sure.

_Pinch._ But I had rather you should do't to my wife before my face, than behind my back; and that you shall never do.

_Horn._ No--you will hinder me.

_Pinch._ If I would not hinder you, you see by her letter she would.

_Horn._ Well, I must e'en acquiesce then, and be contented with what she writes.

_Pinch._ I'll assure you 'twas voluntarily writ; I had no hand in't you may believe me.

_Horn._ I do believe thee, faith.

_Pinch._ And believe her too, for she's an innocent creature, has no dissembling in her: and so fare you well, sir.

_Horn._ Pray, however, present my humble service to her, and tell her, I will obey her letter to a tittle, and fulfil her desires, be what they will, or with what difficulty soever I do't; and you shall be no more jealous of me, I warrant her, and you.

_Pinch._ Well then, fare you well; and play with any man's honour but mine, kiss any man's wife but mine, and welcome. [_Exit._

_Horn._ Ha! ha! ha! doctor.

_Quack._ It seems, he has not heard the report of you, or does not believe it.

_Horn._ Ha! ha!--now, doctor, what think you?

_Quack._ Pray let's see the letter--hum--"for--dear--love you--" [_Reads the letter._

_Horn._ I wonder how she could contrive it! What say'st thou to't? 'tis an original.

_Quack._ So are your cuckolds too originals: for they are like no other common cuckolds, and I will henceforth believe it not impossible for you to cuckold the Grand Signior amidst his guards of eunuchs, that I say.

_Horn._ And I say for the letter, 'tis the first love-letter that ever was without flames, darts, fates, destinies, lying and dissembling in't.

_Enter_ SPARKISH _pulling in_ PINCHWIFE.

_Spark._ Come back, you are a pretty brother-in-law, neither go to church nor to dinner with your sister bride!

_Pinch._ My sister denies her marriage, and you see is gone away from you dissatisfied.

_Spark._ Pshaw! upon a foolish scruple, that our parson was not in lawful orders, and did not say all the common-prayer; but 'tis her modesty only I believe. But let all women be never so modest the first day, they'll be sure to come to themselves by night, and I shall have enough of her then. In the mean time, Harry Horner, you must dine with me: I keep my wedding at my aunt's in the Piazza.[81]

_Horn._ Thy wedding! what stale maid has lived to despair of a husband, or what young one of a gallant?

_Spark._ O, your servant, sir--this gentleman's sister then,--no stale maid.

_Horn._ I'm sorry for't.

_Pinch._ How comes he so concerned for her? [_Aside._

_Spark._ You sorry for't? why, do you know any ill by her?

_Horn._ No, I know none but by thee; 'tis for her sake, not yours, and another man's sake that might have hoped, I thought.

_Spark._ Another man! another man! what is his name?

_Horn._ Nay, since 'tis past, he shall be nameless.--[_Aside._] Poor Harcourt! I am sorry thou hast missed her.

_Pinch._ He seems to be much troubled at the match. [_Aside._

_Spark._ Prithee, tell me--Nay, you shan't go, brother.

_Pinch._ I must of necessity, but I'll come to you to dinner. [_Exit._

_Spark._ But, Harry, what, have I a rival in my wife already? But with all my heart, for he may be of use to me hereafter; for though my hunger is now my sauce, and I can fall on heartily without, the time will come, when a rival will be as good sauce for a married man to a wife, as an orange to veal.

_Horn._ O thou damned rogue! thou hast set my teeth on edge with thy orange.

_Spark._ Then let's to dinner--there I was with you again. Come.

_Horn._ But who dines with thee?

_Spark._ My friends and relations, my brother Pinchwife, you see, of your acquaintance.

_Horn._ And his wife?

_Spark._ No, 'gad, he'll ne'er let her come amongst us good fellows; your stingy country coxcomb keeps his wife from his friends, as he does his little firkin of ale, for his own drinking, and a gentleman can't get a smack on't; but his servants, when his back is turned, broach it at their pleasures, and dust it away, ha! ha! ha!--'Gad, I am witty, I think, considering I was married to-day, by the world; but come--

_Horn._ No, I will not dine with you, unless you can fetch her too.

_Spark._ Pshaw! what pleasure canst thou have with women now, Harry?

_Horn._ My eyes are not gone; I love a good prospect yet, and will not dine with you unless she does too; go fetch her, therefore, but do not tell her husband 'tis for my sake.

_Spark._ Well, I'll go try what I can do; in the meantime, come away to my aunt's lodging, 'tis in the way to Pinchwife's.

_Horn._ The poor woman has called for aid, and stretched forth her hand, doctor; I cannot but help her over the pale out of the briars. [_Exeunt._