Love for Love/Act IV

ACT. IV.

SCENE I.

Valentine's Lodging.

Enter Scandal, and Jeremy.

Scan.Well, Is your Master ready; do's he look madly, and talk madly?

Jer.Yes, Sir; you need make no great doubt of that; he that was so near turning Poet yesterday morning, can't be much to seek in playing the Madman to day.

Scan.Would he have Angelica acquainted with the Reason of his design?

Jer.No, Sir, not yet;—He has a mind to try, whether his playing the Madman, won't make her play the Fool, and fall in Love with him; or at least own that she has lov'd him all this while, and conceal'd it.

Scan.I saw her take Coach just now with her Maid; and think I heard her bid the Coach-man drive hither.

Jere.Like enough, Sir, for I told her Maid this morning, my Master was run stark mad only for Love of her Mistress; I hear a Coach stop; if it should be she, Sir, I believe he would not see her, till he hears how she takes it.

Scan.Well, I'll try her———'tis she, here she comes.

Enter Angelica with Jenny.

Ang.Mr. Scandal, I suppose you don't think it a Novelty, to see a Woman visit a Man at his own Lodgings in a morning.

Scan.Not upon a kind occasion, Madam. But when a Lady comes Tyrannically to insult a ruin'd Lover, and make manifest the cruel Triumphs of her Beauty; the barbarity of it, something surprizes me.

Ang.I don't like Raillery from a serious Face———pray tell me what is the matter.

Jere.No strange matter, Madam; my Master's mad, that's all: I suppose your Ladyship has thought him so a great while.

Ang.How d'ye mean, mad?

Jere.Why faith, Madam, he's mad for want of his Wits, just as he was for want of Money; his Head is e'en as light as his Pockets; and any body that has a mind to a bad Bargain, can't do better than to beg him for his Estate.

Ang.If you speak Truth, your endeavouring at Wit is very unseasonable———

[Aside.Scan.She's concern'd, and loves him.

Ang.Mr. Scandal, you can't think me guilty of so much Inhumanity, as not to be concern'd for a Man I must own my self oblig'd to———pray tell me truth.

Scan.Faith, Madam, I wish telling a Lie would mend the matter. But this is no new effect of an unsuccessful Passion.

Ang. aside.]I know not what to think———Yet I shou'd be vext to have a trick put upon me———May I not see him?

[Exit Jere.Scan.I'm afraid the Physician is not willing you shou'd see him yet———Jeremy, go in and enquire.

Ang.Ha! I saw him wink and smile———I fancy 'tis a trick———I'll try———I would disguise to all the World a Failing, which I must own to you———I fear my Happiness depends upon the recovery of Valentine. Therefore I conjure you, as you are his Friend, and as you have Compassion upon one fearful of Affliction, to tell me what I am to hope for—I cannot speak—But you may tell me, tell me, for you know what I wou'd ask?

Scan.So, this is pretty plain—Be not too much concern'd, Madam; I hope his Condition is not desperate: An Acknowledgment of Love from you, perhaps, may work a Cure; as the fear of your Aversion occasion'd his Distemper.

Ang. aside.Say you so; nay, then I'm convinc'd: And if I don't play Trick for Trick, may I never taste the Pleasure of Revenge—Acknowledgment of Love! I find you have mistaken my Compassion, and think me guilty of a Weakness I am a Stranger to. But I have too much Sincerity to deceive you, and too much Charity to suffer him to be deluded with vain Hopes. Good Nature and Humanity oblige me to be concern'd for him; but to Love is neither in my Power nor Inclination; and if he can't be cur'd without I suck the Poyson from his Wounds, I'm afraid he won't recover his Senses till I lose mine.

Scan.Hey, brave Woman, I faith——— Won't you see him then, if he desire it?

Ang.What signifie a Madman's Desires? Besides, 'twou'd make me uneasie———If I don't see him, perhaps my Concern for him may lessen———If I forget him, 'tis no more than he has done by himself: and now the Surprize is over, methinks I am not half so sorry for him as I was———

Scan.So, faith good Nature works a-pace; you were confessing just now an Obligation to his Love.

Ang.But I have consider'd that Passions are unreasonable and involuntary; if he loves, he can't help it; and if I don't love, I can't help it; no more than he can help his being a Man, or I my being a Woman; or no more than I can help my want of Inclination to stay longer here—Come, Jenny.
Exit Ang and Jenny.

Scan.Humh!———An admirable Composition, faith, this same Womankind.

Enter Jeremy.

Jere.What, is she gone, Sir?

Scan.Gone; why she was never here, nor any where else; nor I don't know her if I see her; nor you neither.

Jere.Good lack! What's the matter now? Are any more of us to be mad? Why, Sir, my Master longs to see her; and is almost mad in good earnest, with the Joyful News of her being here.

Scan.We are all under a mistake—Ask no Questions, for I can't resolve you; but I'll inform your Master. In the mean time, if our Project succeed no better with his Father, than it does with his Mistress, he may descend from his Exaltation of madness into the road of common Sense, and be content only to be made a Fool with other reasonable People. I hear Sir Sampson, you know your Cue; I'll to your Master.
[Exit.

Enter Sir Sampson Legend with a Lawyer.

Sir Samp.D'ye see, Mr. Buckrum, here's the Paper sign'd with his own Hand.

Buck.Good, Sir. And the Conveyance is ready drawn in this Box, if he be ready to sign and seal.

Sir Samp.Ready, body o' me, he must be ready; his Sham-sickness shan't excuse him—O, here's his Scoundrel. Sirrah, where's your Master?

Jere.Ah, Sir, he's quite gone.

Sir Samp.Gone! What, he is not dead?

Jere.No, Sir, not dead.

Sir Samp.What, is he gone out of Town, run away, ha! has he trick't me? speak, Varlet.

Jere.No, no, Sir; he's safe enough, Sir, an he were but as sound, poor Gentleman. He is indeed here, Sir, and not here, Sir.

Sir Samp.Hey day, Rascal, do you banter me? Sirrah, d'ye banter me———Speak Sirrah, where is he, for I will find him.

Jere.Would you could, Sir; for he has lost himself. Indeed, Sir, I have a most broke my Heart about him—I can't refrain Tears when I think of him, Sir; I'm as melancholy for him as a Passing-Bell, Sir; or a Horse in a Pound.

Sir Samp.A Pox confound your Similitudes, Sir———Speak to be understood, and tell me in plain Terms what the matter is with him, or I'll crack your Fools Skull.

Jere.Ah, you've hit it, Sir; that's the matter with him, Sir; his Skull's crack'd, poor Gentleman; he's stark mad, Sir.

Sir Samp.Mad!

Buckr.What, is he Non Compos?

Jere.Quite Non Compos, Sir.

Buckr.Why then all's obliterated, Sir Sampson, if he be Non Compos mentis, his Act and Deed will be of no effect, it is not good in Law.

Sir Samp.Oo'ns, I won't believe it; let me see him, Sir———Mad, I'll make him find his Senses.

Jere.Mr. Scandal is with him, Sir; I'll knock at the Door.
[Goes to the Scene, which opens and discovers Valentine upon a Couch disorderly dress'd, Scandal by him.

Sir Samp.How now, what's here to do?———

Val.Ha! who's that? [starting.]

Scan.For Heav'ns sake softly, Sir, and gently; don't provoke him.

Val.Answer me; Who is that? and that?

Sir Samp.Gads bobs, does he not know me? Is he mischievous? I'll speak gently———Val, Val, do'st thou not know me. Boy? Not know thy own Father, Val! I am thy own Father, and this is honest Brief Buckram the Lawyer.

Val.It may be so———I did not know you———the World is full———There are People that we do know, and People that we do not know; and yet the Sun shines upon all alike———There are Fathers that have many Children; and there are Children that have many Fathers———'tis strange! But I am Truth, and come to give the World the Lie.

Sir Samp.Body o' me, I know not what to say to him.

Val.Why, does that Lawyer wear black?—Does he carry his Conscience without side?———Lawyer, what art thou? Dost thou know me?

Buckr.O Lord, what must I say?———Yes, Sir.

Val.Thou liest, for I am Truth. 'Tis hard I cannot get a Livelyhood amongst you. I have been sworn out of Westminster-Hall the first Day of every Term———Let me see———No matter how long———But I'll tell you one thing; it's a Question that would puzzle an Arithmetician, if you should ask him, whether the Bible saves more Souls in Westminster-Abby, or damns more in Westminster-Hall: For my part, I am Truth, and can't tell; I have very few Acquaintance.

Sir Samp.Body o' me, he talks sensibly in his madness—Has he no Intervals?

Jere.Very short, Sir.

Buckr.Sir, I can do you no Service while he's in this Condition: Here's your Paper, Sir———He may do me a mischief if I stay———The Conveyance is ready, Sir. If he recover his Senses. [Exit.

Sir Samp.Hold, hold, don't you go yet.

Scan.You'd better let him go, Sir; and send for him if there be occasion; for I fancy his Presence provokes him more.

Val.Is the Lawyer gone? 'tis well, then we may drink about without going together by the Ears—heigh ho! What a Clock is't? My Father here! Your Blessing, Sir?

Sir Samp.He recovers—bless thee, Val—How do'st thou do, Boy?

Val.Thank you, Sir, pretty well———I have been a little out of Order; won't you please to sit, Sir?

Sir Samp.Ay, boy———Come, thou shalt sit down by me.

Val.Sir, 'tis my Duty to wait.

Sir Samp.No, no, come, come, sit you down, honest Val: How do'st thou do? let me feel thy Pulse—Oh, pretty well now, Val: Body o' me, I was sorry to see thee indisposed: But I'm glad thou'rt better, honest Val.

Val.I thank you, Sir.

Scan.Miracle! the Monster grows loving. [Aside.

Sir Samp.Let me feel thy Hand again, Val: it does not shake—I believe thou can'st write, Val: Ha, boy? Thou can'st write thy Name, Val?—Jeremy, step and overtake Mr. Buckram, bid him make haste back with the Conveyance———quick———quick [In Whisper to Jeremy.] [Exit. Jere.

Scan. aside.That ever I shou'd suspect such a Heathen of any Remorse!

Sir Samp.Do'st thou know this Paper, Val: I know thou'rt honest, and wil't perform Articles.
[Shews him the Paper, but holds it out of his reach.

Val.Pray let me see it, Sir. You hold it so far off, that I can't tell whether I know it or no.

Sir Samp.See it, boy? Aye, aye, why thou do'st see it—'tis thy own Hand, Val. Why, let me see, I can read it as plain as can be: Look you here [reads] The Condition of this Obligation—Look you, as plain as can be, so it begins—And then at the bottom—As witness my Hand, Valentine Legend, in great Letters. Why, 'tis as plain as the Nose in one's Face: What, are my Eyes better than thine? I believe I can read it farther off yet—let me see.[Stretches his Arm as far as he can.]

Val.Will you please to let me hold it, Sir?

Sir Samp.Let thee hold it, say'st thou—Aye, with all my Heart—What matter is it who holds it? What need any body hold it?—I'll put it up in my Pocket, Val: And then no body need hold it [puts the Paper in his Pocket.] There Val: it's safe enough, Boy—But thou shalt have it as soon as thou hast set thy Hand to another Paper, little Val.

Re-enter Jeremy with Buckram.

Val.What, is my bad Genius here again! Oh no, 'tis the Lawyer with an itching Palm; and he's come to be scratch'd—My Nails are not long enough—Let me have a Pair of Red hot Tongues quickly, quickly, and you shall see me act St. Dunstan, and lead the Devil by the Nose.

Buckr.O Lord, let me be gone; I'll not venture my self with a Madman. [Exit Buckram.

Val.Ha, ha, ha; you need not run so fast, Honesty will not overtake you—Ha, ha, ha, the Rogue found me out to be in Forma Pauperis presently.

Sir Samp.Oo'ns! What a Vexation is here! I know not what to do, or say, nor which way to go.

Val.Who's that, that's out of his Way?—I am Truth, and can set him right—Hearkee, Friend, the straight Road is the worst way you can go—He that follows his Nose always, will very often be led into a Stink. Probatum est. But what are you for? Religion or Politicks? There's a couple of Topicks for you, no more like one another than Oyl and Vinegar; and yet those two beaten together by a State-Cook, make Sauce for the whole Nation.

Sir Samp.What the Devil had I to do, ever to beget Sons? Why did I ever marry?

Val.Because thou wer't a Monster; old Boy?—The two greatest Monsters in the World are a Man and a Woman? what's thy Opinion?

Sir Samp.Why, my Opinion is, that those two Monsters join'd together, make yet a greater, that's a Man and his Wife.

Val.A ha! Old Truepenny, say'st thou so? thou hast nick'd it———But its wonderful strange, Jeremy!

Jere.What is, Sir?

Val.That Gray Hairs shou'd cover a Green Head—and I make a Fool of my Father.

Enter Foresight, Mrs. Foresight, and Frail.

Val.What's here! Erra Pater? or a bearded Sybil? If Prophecy comes, Truth must give place. [Exit with Jere.

Fore.What says he? What, did he prophesie? Ha, Sir Sampson, bless us! How are we?

Sir Samp.Are we? Ah Pox o'your Prognostication—Why, we are Fools as we use to be—Oo'ns, that you cou'd not foresee that the Moon wou'd predominate, and my Son be mad—Where's your Oppositions, your Trines, and your Quadrates?—What did your Cardan and your Ptolomee tell you? Your Messahalah and your Longomontanus, your Harmony of Chiromancy with Astrology. Ah! pox on't, that I that know the World, and Men and Manners, that don't believe a Syllable in the Sky and Stars, and Sun and Almanacks, and Trash, should be directed by a Dreamer, an Omen-hunter, and defer Business in Expectation of a lucky Hour. When, body o' me, there never was a lucky Hour after the first opportunity.
[Exit Sir Samp.

Fore.Ah, Sir Sampson, Heav'n help your Head—This is none of your lucky Hour; Nemo omnibus horis sapit. What, is he gone, and in contempt of Science! Ill Stars and unconverted Ignorance attend him.

Scan.You must excuse his Passion, Mr. Foresight; for he has been heartily vex'd—His Son is Non compos mentis, and thereby incapable of making any Conveyance in Law; so that all his measures are disappointed.

Fore.Ha! say you so?

Frail.What, has my Sea-Lover lost his Anchor of Hope then?
[Aside to Mrs. Foresight.

Mrs. Fore.Oh Sister, what will you do with him?

Frail.Do with him, send him to Sea again in the next foul Weather—He's us'd to an inconstant Element, and won't be surpriz'd to see the Tide turn'd.

Fore.Wherein was I mistaken, not to foresee this? [Considers.

Scan.Madam, you and I can tell him something else, that he did not foresee, and more particularly relating to his own Fortune.
[Aside to Mrs. Foresight.

Mrs. Fore.What do you mean? I don't understand you.

Scan.Hush, softly—the Pleasures of last Night, my Dear, too considerable to be forgot so soon.

Mrs. Fore.Last Night! and what wou'd your Impudence infer from last night? last Night was like the Night before, I think.

Scan.'S'death do you make no difference between me and your Husband?

Mrs. Fore.Not much,—he's superstitious; and you are mad in my opinion.

Scan.You make me mad—You are not serious—Pray recollect your self.

Mrs. Fore.O yes, now I remember, you were very impertinent and impudent,—and would have come to Bed to me.

Scan.And did not?

Mrs. Fore.Did not! with that face can you ask the Question?

Scan.This I have heard of before, but never believ'd. I have been told she had that admirable quality of forgetting to a man's face in the morning, that she had layn with him all night, and denying favours with more impudence, than she cou'd grant 'em.—Madam, I'm your humble Servant, and honour you.—You look pretty well, Mr. Foresight;—How did you rest last night?

Fore.Truly Mr. Scandal, I was so taken up with broken Dreams and distracted Visions, that I remember little.

Scan.'Twas a very forgetting Night.—But would you not talk with Valentine, perhaps you may understand him; I'm apt to believe there is something mysterious in his Discourses, and sometimes rather think him inspir'd than mad.

Fore.You speak with singular good Judgment, Mr. Scandal, truly,—I am inclining to your Turkish opinion in this matter, and do reverence a man whom the vulgar think mad. Let us go in to him.

Frail.Sister, do you stay with them; I'll find out my Lover, and give him his discharge, and come to you. O' my Conscience here he comes.
Exeunt Foresight, Mrs. Fore. and Scandal.

Enter Ben.

Ben.All mad, I think—Flesh, I believe all the Calentures of the Sea are come ashore, for my part.

Frail.Mr. Benjamin in Choler!

Ben.No, I'm pleas'd well enough, now I have found you,—Mess, I've had such a Hurricane upon your account yonder.———

Frail.My account, pray what's the matter?

Ben.Why, Father came and found me squabling with you chitty fac'd thing, as he would have me marry,—so he ask'd what was the matter.—He ask'd in a surly sort of a way—(It seems Brother Val is gone mad, and so that put'n into a passion; but what did I know that, what's that to me?)—So he ask'd in a surly sort of manner,—and Gad I answer'd 'n as surlily,—What thof' he be my Father, I an't bound Prentice to 'en:—so faith I told'n in plain terms, if I were minded to marry, I'de marry to please my self, not him; and for the Young Woman that he provided for me, I thought it more fitting for her to learn her Sampler, and make Dirt-pies, than to look after a Husband; for my part I was none of her man.—I had another Voyage to make, let him take it as he will.

Frail.So then you intend to go to Sea again?

Ben.Nay, nay, my mind run upon you,—but I wou'd not tell him so much.—So he said he'd make my heart ake; and if so be that he cou'd get a Woman to his mind, he'd marry himself. Gad, says I, an you play the fool and marry at these years, there's more danger of your head's aking than my heart.—He was woundy angry when I gav'n that wipe.—He had 'nt a word to say, and so I left'n, and the Green Girl together;—May hap the Bee may bite, and he'l marry her himself, with all my heart.

Frail.And were you this undutiful and graceless Wretch to your Father?

Ben.Then why was he graceless first,—if I am undutiful and Graceless, why did he beget me so? I did not get my self.

Frail.O Impiety! how have I been mistaken! what an inhumane merciless Creature have I set my heart upon? O I am happy to have discover'd the Shelves and Quicksands that lurk beneath that faithless smiling face.

Ben.Hey toss! what's the matter now? why you ben't angry, be you?

Frail.O see me no more,—for thou wert born amongst Rocks, suckl'd by Whales, Cradled in a Tempest, and whistled to by Winds; and thou art come forth with Finns and Scales, and three rows of Teeth, a most outragious Fish of prey.

Ben.O Lord, O Lord, she's mad, poor Young Woman, Love has turn'd her senses, her Brain is quite overset. Well-a-day, how shall I do to set her to rights.

Frail.No, no, I am not mad Monster, I am wise enough to find you out.—Had'st thou the Impudence to aspire at being a Husband with that stubborn and disobedient temper?—You that know not how to submit to a Father, presume to have a sufficient stock of Duty to undergo a Wife? I should have been finely fobb'd indeed, very finely fobb'd.

Ben.Hearkee forsooth; If so be that you are in your right senses, d'ee see; for ought as I perceive I'm like to be finely fobb'd,—if I have got anger here upon your account, and you are tack'd about already.—What d'ee mean, after all your fair speeches, and stroaking my Cheeks, and Kissing and Hugging, what wou'd you sheer off so? wou'd you, and leave me aground?

Frail.No, I'll leave you a-drift, and go which way you will.

Ben.What, are you false hearted then?

Frail.Only the Wind's chang'd.

Ben.More shame for you,—the Wind's chang'd?—it's an ill Wind blows no body good,—may-hap I have good riddance on you, if these be your Tricks,—What d'ee mean all this while, to make a fool of me?

Frail.Any fool, but a Husband.

Ben.Husband! Gad I wou'd not be your Husband, if you wou'd have me; now I know your mind, thof' you had your weight in Gold and Jewels, and thof' I lov'd you never so well.

Frail.Why canst thou love, Porpoise?

Ben.No matter what I can do? don't call Names,—I don't love You so well as to bear that, whatever I did,—I'm glad you shew your self, Mistress:—Let them marry you, as don't know you:—Gad I know you too well, by sad experience;—I believe he that marries you will go to Sea in a Hen-peck'd Frigat.—I believe that, Young Woman—and may-hap may come to an Anchor at Cuckolds-point; so there's a dash for you, take it as you will, may-hap you may holla after me when I won't come too. [Exit.

Frail.Ha, ha, ha, no doubt on't.———
My true Love is gone to Sea.——— [Sings.

Enter Mrs. Foresight.
O Sister, had you come a minute sooner, you would have seen the Resolution of a Lover,—Honest Tarr and I are parted;—and with the same indifference that we met:—O' my life I am half vex'd at the insensibility of a Brute that I despis'd.

Mrs. Fore.What then, he bore it most Heroically?

Frail.Most Tyrannically,—for you see he has got the start of me; and I the poor forsaken Maid am left complaining on the Shore. But I'll tell you a hint that he has given me; Sir Sampson is enrag'd, and talks desperately of committing Matrimony himself.—If he has a mind to throw himself away, he can't do it more effectually than upon me, if we could bring it about.

Mrs. Fore.Oh hang him old Fox, he's too cunning, besides he hates both you and me.—But I have a project in my head for you, and I have gone a good way towards it. I have almost made a Bargain with Jeremy, Valentine's man, to sell his Master to us.

Frail.Sell him, how?

Mrs. Fore.Valentine raves upon Angelica, and took me for her, and Jeremy says will take any body for her that he imposes on him.—Now I have promis'd him Mountains; if in one of his mad fits he will bring you to him in her stead, and get you married together, and put to Bed together; and after Consummation, Girl, there's no revoking. And if he should recover his Senses, he'll be glad at least to make you a good Settlement.—Here they come, stand aside a little, and tell me how you like the design.

Enter Valentine, Scandal, Foresight, and Jeremy.

Scan.And have you given your Master a hint of their Plot upon him? [To Jere.

Jere.Yes, Sir; he says he'll favour it, and mistake her for Angelica.

Scan.It may make sport.

Fore.Mercy on us!

Val.Husht—Interrupt me not—I'll whisper Prediction to thee, and thou shalt Prophesie;—I am Truth, and can teach thy Tongue a new Trick,—I have told thee what's past,—Now I tell what's to come;—Dost thou know what will happen to morrow?—Answer me not—for I will tell thee. To morrow, Knaves will thrive thro' craft, and Fools thro' Fortune; and Honesty will go as it did, Frost-nip't in a Summer suit. Ask me Questions concerning to morrow?

Scan.Ask him, Mr. Foresight.

Fore.Pray what will be done at Court?

Val.Scandal will tell you;—I am Truth, I never come there.

Fore.In the City?

Val.Oh, Prayers will be said in empty Churches, at the usual Hours. Yet you will see such Zealous Faces behind Counters, as if Religion were to be sold in every Shop. Oh things will go methodically in the City, the Clocks will strike Twelve at Noon, and the Horn'd Herd Buz in the Exchange at Two. Wives and Husbands will drive distinct Trades, and Care and Pleasure separately Occupy the Family. Coffee-Houses will be full of Smoak and Stratagem. And the cropt Prentice, that sweeps his Master's Shop in the morning, may ten to one, dirty his Sheets before Night. But there are two things that you will see very strange; which are Wanton Wives, with their Legs at liberty, and Tame Cuckolds, with Chains about their Necks. But hold, I must examine you before I go further; You look suspiciously. Are you a Husband?

Fore.I am Married.

Val.Poor Creature! Is your Wife of Covent-Garden Parish?

Fore.No; St. Martins in the Fields.

Val.Alas, poor Man; his Eyes are sunk, and his Hands shrivell'd; his Legs dwindl'd, and his back bow'd, Pray, pray, for a Metamorphosis—Change thy Shape, and shake off Age; get thee Medea's Kettle, and be boil'd a-new, come forth with lab'ring Callous Hands, a Chine of Steel, and Atlas Shoulders. Let Taliacotius trim the Calves of Twenty Chairmen, and make thee Pedestals to stand erect upon, and look Matrimony in the face. Ha, ha, ha! That a Man shou'd have a Stomach to a Wedding Supper, when the Pidgeons ought rather to be laid to his feet, ha, ha, ha.

Fore.His Frenzy is very high now, Mr. Scandal.

Scan.I believe it is a Spring Tide.

Fore.Very likely truly; You understand these Matters—Mr. Scandal, I shall be very glad to confer with you about these things which he has utter'd.—His Sayings are very Mysterious and Hieroglyphical.

Val.Oh, why would Angelica be absent from my Eyes so long?

Jere.She's here, Sir.

Mrs. Fore.Now, Sister.

Frail.O Lord, what must I say?

Scan.Humour him, Madam, by all means.

Val.Where is she? Oh I see her—she comes, like Riches, Health, and Liberty at once, to a despairing, starving, and abandon'd Wretch.
Oh welcome, welcome.

Frail.How de'e you, Sir? Can I serve you?

Val.Heark'ee;—I have a Secret to tell you—Endymion and the Moon shall meet us upon Mount Latmos, and we'll be Marry'd in the dead of Night.—But say not a word. Hymen shall put his Torch into a dark Lanthorn, that it may be secret; and Juno shall give her Peacock Poppy-water, that he may fold his Ogling Tail, and Argos's hundred Eyes be shut, ha? No body shall know, but Jeremy.

Frail.No, no, we'll keep it secret, it shall be done presently.

Val.The sooner the better—Jeremy, come hither—closer—that none may over-hear us;—Jeremy, I can tell you News;—Angelica is turn'd Nun; and I am turning Fryar, and yet we'll Marry one another in spite of the Pope—Get me a Coul and Beads, that I may play my part,—For she'll meet me Two Hours hence in black and white, and a long Veil to cover the Project, and we won't see one anothers Faces, till we have done something to be asham'd of; and then we'll blush once for all.

Enter Tattle, and Angelica.

Jere.I'll take care, and———

Val.Whisper.

Ang.Nay, Mr. Tattle, If you make Love to me, you spoil my design, for I intended to make you my Confident.

Tatt.But, Madam, to throw away your Person, such a Person! and such a Fortune, on a Madman!

Ang.I never lov'd him till he was Mad; but don't tell any body so.

Scan.How's this! Tattle making Love to Angelica!

Tatt.Tell, Madam! alas you don't know me—I have much ado to tell your Ladyship, how long I have been in Love with you—but encourag'd by the impossibility of Valentine's making any more Addresses to you, I have ventur'd to declare the very inmost Passion of my Heart. Oh, Madam, look upon us both. There you see the ruins of a poor decay'd Creature—Here, a compleat and lively Figure, with Youth and Health, and all his five Senses in perfection, Madam, and to all this, the most passionate Lover———

Ang.O fie for shame, hold your Tongue, A passionate Lover, and five Senses in perfection! when you are as Mad as Valentine, I'll believe you love me, and the maddest shall take me.

Val.It is enough. Ha! Who's here?

Frail.O Lord, her coming will spoil all. [To Jeremy.

Jere.No, no, Madam, he won't know her, if he shou'd, I can perswade him.

Val.Scandal, who are all these? Foreigners? If they are, I'll tell you what I think—get away all the Company but Angelica, that I may discover my design to her. [Whisper.

Scan.I will,—I have discover'd something of Tattle, that is of a piece with Mrs. Frail. He Courts Angelica, if we cou'd contrive to couple 'em together———Hark ye——— [Whisper.

Mrs. Fore.He won't know you, Cousin, he knows no body.

Fore.But he knows more than any body,———Oh Neice, he knows things past and to come, and all the profound Secrets of Time.

Tatt.Look you, Mr. Foresight, It is not my way to make many words of Matters, and so I shan't say much,———But in short, de'e see, I will hold you a Hundred Pound now, that I know more Secrets then he.

Fore.How! I cannot Read that knowledge in your Face, Mr. Tattle———Pray, what do you know?

Tatt.Why, de'e think I'll tell you, Sir! Read it in my Face? No, Sir, 'tis written in my Heart. And safer there, Sir, than Letters writ in Juice of Lemon, for no Fire can fetch it out. I am no blab, Sir.

Val.Acquaint Jeremy with it, he may easily bring it about,—They are welcome, and I'll tell 'em so my self. [To Scandal.] What do you look strange upon me?———Then I must be plain. [Coming up to them.] I am Truth, and hate an Old Acquaintance with a new Face. [ Scandal goes aside with Jeremy.

Tatt.Do you know me, Valentine?

Val.You? Who are you? No, I hope not.

Tatt.I am Jack Tattle, your Friend.

Val.My Friend, what to do? I am no Married Man, and thou can'st not lie with my Wife? I am very poor, and thou can'st not borrow Money of me; Then what Employment have I for a Friend.

Tatt.Hah! A good open Speaker, and not to be trusted with a Secret.

Ang.Do you know me, Valentine?

Val.Oh very well.

Ang.Who am I?

Val.You're a Woman,———One to whom Heav'n gave Beauty, when it grafted Roses on a Briar. You are the reflection of Heav'n in a Pond, and he that leaps at you is sunk. You are all white, a sheet of lovely spotless Paper, when you first are Born; but you are to be scrawl'd and blotted by every Goose's Quill. I know you; for I lov'd a Woman, and lov'd her so long, that I found out a strange thing: I found out what a Woman was good for.

Tatt.Ay; prithee what's that?

Val.Why to keep a Secret.

Tatt.O Lord!

Val.O exceeding good to keep a Secret: For tho' she shou'd tell, yet she is not to be believ'd.

Tatt.Hah! good again, faith.

Val.I wou'd have Musick—Sing me the Song that I like—

SONG. Set by Mr. Finger.
I Tell thee, Charmion, cou'd I Time retrieve,
And cou'd again begin to Love and Live,
To you I shou'd my earliest Off'ring give;
I know my Eyes wou'd lead my Heart to you,
And I shou'd all my Vows and Oaths renew,
But to be plain, I never wou'd be true.

2.
For by our weak and weary Truth, I find,
Love hates to center in a Point assign'd,
But runs with Joy the Circle of the Mind.
Then never let us chain what shou'd be free,
But for Relief of either Sex agree,
Since Women love to change, and so do we.

No more, for I am melancholy. [Walks musing.

Jere.I'll do't, Sir. [To Scandal.

Scan.Mr. Foresight, we had best leave him. He may grow outragious and do Mischief.

Fore.I will be directed by you.

Jere. to Frail.You'll meet, Madam;—I'll take care every thing shall be ready.

Frail.Thou shalt do what thou wilt, have what thou wilt, in short, I will deny thee nothing.

Tatt.Madam, shall I wait upon you? [To Angelica.

Ang.No, I'll stay with him—Mr Scandal will protect me. Aunt, Mr. Tattle desires you wou'd give him leave to wait on you.

Tatt.Pox on't, there's no coming off, now she has said that—Madam, will you do me the Honour?

Mrs. Fore.Mr. Tattle might have us'd less Ceremony. [Exeunt Fore. Mrs. Fore.

Scan. Jeremy, follow Tattle. [Tatt. Frail. Jere.

Ang.Mr. Scandal, I only stay 'till my Maid comes, and because I had a mind to be rid of Mr. Tattle.

Scan.Madam, I am very glad that I over-heard a better Reason, which you gave to Mr. Tattle; for his Impertinence forc'd you to [Page 62] acknowledge a Kindness for Valentine, which you deny'd to all his Sufferings and my Sollicitations. So I'll leave him to make use of the Discovery; and your Ladyship to the free Confession of your Inclinations.

Ang.Oh Heav'ns! You won't leave me alone with a Madman?

Scan.No, Madam; I only leave a Madman to his Remedy. [Exit Scan.

Val.Madam, you need not be very much afraid, for I fancy I begin to come to my self.

Ang.Ay, but if I don't fit you, I'll be hang'd. [Aside.

Val.You see what Disguises Love makes us put on; Gods have been in counterfeited Shapes for the same Reason; and the Divine Part of me, my Mind, has worn this Mask of Madness, and this motly Livery, only as the Slave of Love, and menial Creature of your Beauty.

Ang.Mercy on me, how he talks! poor Valentine!

Val.Nay faith, now let us understand one another, Hypocrisie apart,—The Comedy draws toward an end, and let us think of leaving Acting, and be our selves; and since you have lov'd me, you must own, I have at length deserv'd you shou'd confess it.

Ang. Sighs.]I would I had lov'd you———for Heaven knows I pity you; and cou'd I have foreseen the bad Effects, I wou'd have striven; but that's too late. [Sighs.

Val.What sad Effects?—What's too late? My seeming Madness as deceiv'd my Father, and procur'd me Time to think of means to reconcile me to him, and preserve the Right of my Inheritance to his Estate; which otherwise by Articles I must this morning have resign'd: And this I had inform'd you of to Day, but you were gone, before I knew you had been here.

Ang.How! I thought your Love of me had caus'd this Transport in your Soul; which it seems you only counterfeited, for by mercenary Ends, and sordid Interest.

Val.Nay, now you do me wrong; for if any Interest was considered, it was yours; since I thought I wanted more than Love, to make me worthy of you.

Ang.Then you thought me mercenary—But how am I deluded by this Interval of Sense, to reason with a Madman?

Val.Oh, 'tis barbarous to misunderstand me longer.

Enter Jeremy.

Ang.Oh here's a reasonable Creature—sure he will not have the Impudence to persevere—Come, Jeremy, acknowledge your Trick, and confess your Master's Madness counterfeit.

Jere.Counterfeit, Madam! I'll maintain him to be as absolutely and substantially mad, as any Freeholder in Bethlehem; nay, he's as mad as any Projector, Fanatick, Chymist, Lover, or Poet in Europe.

Val.Sirrah, you lie; I am not mad.

Ang.Ha, ha, ha, you see he denies it.

Jere.O Lord, Madam, did you ever know any Madman mad enough to own it?

Val.Sot, can't you apprehend?

Ang.Why he talk'd very sensibly just now.

Jere.Yes, Madam; he has Intervals: But you see he begins to look wild again now.

Val.Why you thick'd-skull'd Rascal, I tell you the Farce is done, and I will be Mad no longer. [[Beats him.

Ang.Ha, ha, ha, Is he mad, or no, Jeremy?

Jere.Partly I think———for he does not know his Mind Two Hours———I'm sure I left him just now, in a Humour to be mad: And I think I have not found him very quiet at this present. Who's there? [One Knocks.

Val.Go see, you Sot. I'm very glad that I can move your Mirth, tho' not your Compassion. [Exit Jeremy.

Ang.I did not think you had Apprehension enough to be exceptious: But Madmen shew themselves most, by over-pretending to a sound Understanding; as Drunken Men do by over-acting Sobriety; I was half inclining to believe you, 'till I accidentally touch'd upon your tender Part: But now you have restor'd me to my former Opinion and Compassion.

Enter Jeremy.

Jere.Sir, your Father has sent to know if you are any better yet—Will you please to be mad, Sir, or how?

Val.Stupidity! You know the Penalty of all I'm worth must pay for the Confession of my Senses; I'm mad, and will be mad to every Body but this Lady.

Jere.So—Just the very backside of Truth—But Lying is a Figure in Speech, that interlards the greatest part of my Conversation—Madam, your Ladyship's Woman. [Goes to the Door.

Enter Jenny.

Ang.Well, have you been there?—Come hither.

Jenny.Yes, Madam, Sir Sampson will wait upon you presently. [Aside to Angelica.

Val.You are not leaving me in this Uncertainty?

Ang.Wou'd any thing but a Madman complain of Uncertainty? [Page 64] Uncertainty and Expectation are the Joys of Life. Security is an insipid thing, and the overtaking and possessing of a Wish discovers the Folly of the Chase. Never let us know one another better; for the Pleasure of a Masquerade is done, when we come to shew Faces: But I'll tell you two things before I leave you; I am not the Fool you take me for; and you are mad, and don't know it. [Exeunt Ang. and Jenny.

Val.From a Riddle, you can expect nothing but a Riddle. There's my Instruction, and the Moral of my Lesson.

Re-enter Jeremy.

Jere.What, is the Lady gone again, Sir? I hope you understood one another before she went.

Val.Understood! She is harder to be understood than a Piece of Ægyptian Antiquity, or an Irish Manuscript; you may pore till you spoil your Eyes, and not improve your Knowledge.

Jere.I have heard 'em say, Sir, they read hard Hebrew Books backwards; may be you begin to read at the wrong End.

Val.they say so of a Witches Pray'r, and Dreams and Dutch Almanacks are to be understood by contraries. But there's Regularity and Method in that; she is a Medal without a Reverse or Inscription; for Indifference has both sides alike. Yet while she does not seem to hate me, I will pursue her, and know her if it be possible, in spight of the Opinion of my Satirical Friend, Scandal, who says,

That Women are like Tricks by slight of Hand,
Which, to admire, we should not understand.
[Exeunt.

The End of the Fourth Act.