The Country Wife
By 
            William Wycherley
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    The Country-Wife,WycherleyWycherley
Theater was central to the culture of Restoration London. The restored monarch, Charles II, wanted to assert the centrality of the theater in English culture as a way of harkening back to the glory days of the Stuart dynasty in the early part of the century, when his grandfather James I had been the patron of William Shakespeare’s theatrical company, and when Ben Jonson and Inigo Jones had designed extravagant “masques” for performance at court. But Charles and his courtiers also brought back many of the norms of the Continental stage with them when they returned to power in 1660: proscenium arched, indoor playhouses with moveable scenery, for example, and actresses in the women’s parts. These changes marked a decisive break with the norms of the professional theaters of the Elizabethan era in England, where scenery was minimal to nonexistent, and where the women's parts were played by young men. During his first years in power, Charles supported the new theaters in a number of ways: he was the official patron of the company performing at the playhouse in Drury Lane where The Country Wife was first staged; he attended plays at both state-licensed playhouses frequently; he even occasionally suggested plots to dramatists. Even more important than this personal connection was an ideological alliance between the theater and the culture; this era found in the playhouse a mirror of its own highly performative character. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries found themselves confronting an issue that has haunted culture ever since: how can we know if people are real and authentic, or if they are merely performers, acting social roles in the manner of an actor in a theater? The Country Wife is one of many literary works from this period that probes this question. William Wycherley became a courtier in the 1670s, and his plays are set in the world of fashionable London libertines like himself. Horner, the antihero at the center of The Country Wife, is a familiar type of the period: a rake, for “rake-hell,” so called from the hellfire that such men seemed to be daring themselves to by their scandalous behavior. At the time, some observers thought that Wycherley had modeled Horner on the notorious libertine the Earl of Rochester. That might be the case, or it might simply be that Rochester was so famous and notorious in these years that he could readily be associated with any libertine figure. In any case, Horner is certainly following the libertine’s central ethical imperative--to pursue his own pleasures wherever they may lead him, and to use his “wit,” which in this period meant simply intellect, to get what he wants. Here, he advances his desire to pursue sexual relationships with the wives of men he knows by feigning impotence; men will think that he is not a threat, and women will be assured that they can conduct an affair with no damage to their reputations. What follows surprises even Horner, though, as he discovers that women--both Town women like Lady Fidget and even young Margery Pinchwife, the country wife of the title--have desires of their own, and cannot be as easily manipulated as he thought.
      
        The Country Wife is one of the most powerful expressions of late seventeenth-century English culture, and it remained a popular play for decades in theaters throughout the English-speaking world. This play has often been classed by theater historians as a “sex comedy,” for reasons that are obvious. But Wycherley is also interested in complex social issues, such as the confrontation between the values of the town and those of the country, the male anxiety over women’s agency and autonomy, and language as the medium through which all of these social norms are expressed and fought over. Some of this concern over language is apparant in the names of the play’s characters. Some characters--Horner, Pinchwife, the Fidgets, Quack, etc.--have names reminiscent of the allegorical names in a contemporary religious text like John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. Such names suggest a fairly direct correspondence between a person’s name and their nature--Horner “horns in on” other relationships, for example, attempting to put the horns of the cuckold on a man guilty of being excessively controlling of his wife--such as the equally-aptly named Pinchwife.
        
        At the same time, and going against the grain of such directness, Wycherley is concerned with how many words lend themselves to misunderstanding because they can signify different things: starting with the vulgar pun in its title that practically dares the reader not to notice it, The Country Wife includes plays on words like “honour,” “civil,” “business,” “frank,” and, most famously “china,” which accumulates multiple, increasingly sexual associations in the play’s central scene. As a general rule of thumb, while you are reading The Country Wife, if you think that you see a dirty joke or a double-entendre, you are probably not mistaken; Wycherley has almost certainly indeed put it there. Yet that free play of language that the characters revel in, and that is so productive of The Country Wife's success as a comedy, leads to a serious question. With language itself so unpredictable, so uncontrollable, Wycherley seems to be saying, how can people communicate honestly with each other? Beneath the play’s scandalous subject matter, the play seems designed to provoke serious questions about social norms, communication, and the possibilities for cohesion and harmony in his culture.
    Image: Miniature portrait of William Wycherley, c. 1675, by Peter Cross (National Portrait Gallery, London)
        
A
COMEDY,
Acted at the
THEATRE ROYAL
Written by Mr. Wycherley
Indignor quicquam reprehendi, non quia crassè Compositum illepidéve putetur, sed quia nuper: Nec veniam Antiquis, sed honorem &c præmia possi. EpigraphEpigraph"I'm indignant that work is censured, not because it's thought crudely or badly made, but because it's new, while what's old claims honours and prizes not indulgence." Horace, EpistleII:1, translated A. S. Kline Horat.
LONDON,
Printed for Thomas Dring, at the Harrow, at the
Corner of Chancery-Lane in Fleet-street. 1675. PROLOGUE, spoken by Mr Hart. Poets like Cudgel'd Bullys, never do At first, or second blow, submit to you; But will provoke you still, and ne're have done, Till you are weary first, with laying on: The late so basted Scribler of this day, Though he stands trembling, bids me boldly say, What we, before most Playes are us'd to do, For Poets out of fear, first draw on you; In a fierce Prologue, the still Pit defie, And e're you speak, like Castril, give the lye; But though our Bayses Batles oft I've fought, And with bruis'd knuckles, their dear Conquests bought; Nay, never yet fear'd Odds upon the Stage, In Prologue dare not Hector with the Age, But wou'd take Quarter from your saving hands, Though Bayse within all yielding Countermands, Says you Confed'rate Wits no Quarter give, Ther'fore his Play shan't ask your leave to live: Well, let the vain rash Fop, by hussing so, Think to obtain the better terms of you; But we the Actors humbly will submit, Now, and at any time, to a full Pit; Nay, often we anticipate your rage, And murder Poets for you, on our Stage: We set no Guards upon our Tyring-Room, But when with flying Colours, there you come, We patiently you see, give up to you, Our Poets, Virgin, nay our Matrons too. The Persons.
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
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Enter Boy.
    
                                        
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Exit Sparkish.
Manent Horner, Harcourt, Dorilant; Enter to them Mr. Pinchwife.
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
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Mrs. Margery Pinchwife, and Alithea: Mr. Pinchwife peeping behind at the door.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Exeunt omnes.
Alithea, and Mrs. Pinchwife.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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The Scene changes to the new Exchange: Enter Horner, Harcourt, Dorilant.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Takes hold of Mrs. Pinchwife.
                                                
                                                
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In Pinchwife's house in the morning.
Lucy, Alithea dress'd in new Cloths.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Exeunt Sparkish, Alithea, Harcourt, and Lucy.
The Scene changes to a Bed-chamber, where appear Pinchwife, Mrs. Pinchwife.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Holds up the Letter.
Exit Pinchwife.
The Scene changes to Horner's Lodging.
Quack and Horner.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Exit Horner at t'other door.
                                                
Sir Jaspar calls through the door to his Wife, she answers from within.
                                                
                                                
                                                
[Behind.]
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Reads the Letter.
                                                
                                                
                                                
Enter Sparkish pulling in Mr. Pinchwife.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
Exeunt Sparkish, Horner, Quack.
The Scene changes to Pinchwife's house.
Mrs. Pinchwife alone
A Table, Pen, Ink, and Paper.
leaning on her elbow.
                                                
Takes the Pen and writes.
Enter Mr. Pinchwife who seeing her writing steales softly behind her, and looking over her shoulder, snatches the paper from her.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Mr. Pinchwife's House.
Enter Mr. Pinchwife and Mrs. Pinchwife, a Table and Candle.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
81
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
Mrs. Pinchwife returns.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
Enter Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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Mrs. Pinchwife gives him her hand, but when he lets her go, she steals softly on t'other side of him, and is lead away by him for his Sister Alithea.
The Scene changes to Horners Lodging. Quack, Horner.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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The Scene changes to the Piazza of Covent Garden.
Sparkish, Pinchwife.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
Exeunt Alithea, Lucy.
The Scene changes again to Horner's Lodging. Horner, Lady Fidget, Mrs. Daynty Fidget, Mrs. Squeamish, a Table, Banquet, and Bottles.
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
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A Dance of Cuckolds.
                                                
FINIS.
EPILOGUE spoken by Mr. Hart:
                                                
                                                
FINIS.
    
                        
                                
                        
                        
                    
                    
                
            
Theater was central to the culture of Restoration London. The restored monarch, Charles II, wanted to assert the centrality of the theater in English culture as a way of harkening back to the glory days of the Stuart dynasty in the early part of the century, when his grandfather James I had been the patron of William Shakespeare’s theatrical company, and when Ben Jonson and Inigo Jones had designed extravagant “masques” for performance at court. But Charles and his courtiers also brought back many of the norms of the Continental stage with them when they returned to power in 1660: proscenium arched, indoor playhouses with moveable scenery, for example, and actresses in the women’s parts. These changes marked a decisive break with the norms of the professional theaters of the Elizabethan era in England, where scenery was minimal to nonexistent, and where the women's parts were played by young men. During his first years in power, Charles supported the new theaters in a number of ways: he was the official patron of the company performing at the playhouse in Drury Lane where The Country Wife was first staged; he attended plays at both state-licensed playhouses frequently; he even occasionally suggested plots to dramatists. Even more important than this personal connection was an ideological alliance between the theater and the culture; this era found in the playhouse a mirror of its own highly performative character. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries found themselves confronting an issue that has haunted culture ever since: how can we know if people are real and authentic, or if they are merely performers, acting social roles in the manner of an actor in a theater? The Country Wife is one of many literary works from this period that probes this question. William Wycherley became a courtier in the 1670s, and his plays are set in the world of fashionable London libertines like himself. Horner, the antihero at the center of The Country Wife, is a familiar type of the period: a rake, for “rake-hell,” so called from the hellfire that such men seemed to be daring themselves to by their scandalous behavior. At the time, some observers thought that Wycherley had modeled Horner on the notorious libertine the Earl of Rochester. That might be the case, or it might simply be that Rochester was so famous and notorious in these years that he could readily be associated with any libertine figure. In any case, Horner is certainly following the libertine’s central ethical imperative--to pursue his own pleasures wherever they may lead him, and to use his “wit,” which in this period meant simply intellect, to get what he wants. Here, he advances his desire to pursue sexual relationships with the wives of men he knows by feigning impotence; men will think that he is not a threat, and women will be assured that they can conduct an affair with no damage to their reputations. What follows surprises even Horner, though, as he discovers that women--both Town women like Lady Fidget and even young Margery Pinchwife, the country wife of the title--have desires of their own, and cannot be as easily manipulated as he thought.
      
        The Country Wife is one of the most powerful expressions of late seventeenth-century English culture, and it remained a popular play for decades in theaters throughout the English-speaking world. This play has often been classed by theater historians as a “sex comedy,” for reasons that are obvious. But Wycherley is also interested in complex social issues, such as the confrontation between the values of the town and those of the country, the male anxiety over women’s agency and autonomy, and language as the medium through which all of these social norms are expressed and fought over. Some of this concern over language is apparant in the names of the play’s characters. Some characters--Horner, Pinchwife, the Fidgets, Quack, etc.--have names reminiscent of the allegorical names in a contemporary religious text like John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. Such names suggest a fairly direct correspondence between a person’s name and their nature--Horner “horns in on” other relationships, for example, attempting to put the horns of the cuckold on a man guilty of being excessively controlling of his wife--such as the equally-aptly named Pinchwife.
        
        At the same time, and going against the grain of such directness, Wycherley is concerned with how many words lend themselves to misunderstanding because they can signify different things: starting with the vulgar pun in its title that practically dares the reader not to notice it, The Country Wife includes plays on words like “honour,” “civil,” “business,” “frank,” and, most famously “china,” which accumulates multiple, increasingly sexual associations in the play’s central scene. As a general rule of thumb, while you are reading The Country Wife, if you think that you see a dirty joke or a double-entendre, you are probably not mistaken; Wycherley has almost certainly indeed put it there. Yet that free play of language that the characters revel in, and that is so productive of The Country Wife's success as a comedy, leads to a serious question. With language itself so unpredictable, so uncontrollable, Wycherley seems to be saying, how can people communicate honestly with each other? Beneath the play’s scandalous subject matter, the play seems designed to provoke serious questions about social norms, communication, and the possibilities for cohesion and harmony in his culture.
    Image: Miniature portrait of William Wycherley, c. 1675, by Peter Cross (National Portrait Gallery, London)
        A
COMEDY,
Acted at the
THEATRE ROYAL
Written by Mr. Wycherley
Indignor quicquam reprehendi, non quia crassè Compositum illepidéve putetur, sed quia nuper: Nec veniam Antiquis, sed honorem &c præmia possi. EpigraphEpigraph"I'm indignant that work is censured, not because it's thought crudely or badly made, but because it's new, while what's old claims honours and prizes not indulgence." Horace, EpistleII:1, translated A. S. Kline Horat.
LONDON,
Printed for Thomas Dring, at the Harrow, at the
Corner of Chancery-Lane in Fleet-street. 1675. PROLOGUE, spoken by Mr Hart. Poets like Cudgel'd Bullys, never do At first, or second blow, submit to you; But will provoke you still, and ne're have done, Till you are weary first, with laying on: The late so basted Scribler of this day, Though he stands trembling, bids me boldly say, What we, before most Playes are us'd to do, For Poets out of fear, first draw on you; In a fierce Prologue, the still Pit defie, And e're you speak, like Castril, give the lye; But though our Bayses Batles oft I've fought, And with bruis'd knuckles, their dear Conquests bought; Nay, never yet fear'd Odds upon the Stage, In Prologue dare not Hector with the Age, But wou'd take Quarter from your saving hands, Though Bayse within all yielding Countermands, Says you Confed'rate Wits no Quarter give, Ther'fore his Play shan't ask your leave to live: Well, let the vain rash Fop, by hussing so, Think to obtain the better terms of you; But we the Actors humbly will submit, Now, and at any time, to a full Pit; Nay, often we anticipate your rage, And murder Poets for you, on our Stage: We set no Guards upon our Tyring-Room, But when with flying Colours, there you come, We patiently you see, give up to you, Our Poets, Virgin, nay our Matrons too. The Persons.
- Mr. Hart.
 - Mr. Horner,
 - Mr. Kenaston.
 - Mr. Harcourt,
 - Mr. Lydal.
 - Mr. Dorilant,
 - Mr. Mohun.
 - Mr. Pinchwife,
 - Mr. Haynes.
 - Mr. Sparkish,
 - Mr. Cartwright.
 - Sir Jaspar Fidget,
 - Mrs. Bowtel.
 - Mrs. Margery Pinchwife,
 - Mrs. James.
 - Mrs. Alithea,
 - Mrs. Knep.
 - My Lady Fidget,
 - Mrs. Corbet.
 - Mrs. Dainty Fidget,
 - Mrs. Wyatt.
 - Mrs. Squeamish.
 - Mrs. Rutter.
 - Old Lady Squeamish.
 - Waiters, Servants, and Attendants.
 - A Boy.
 - Mr. Schotterel.
 - A Quack,
 - Mrs. Cory.
 - Lucy, Alithea's Maid,
 
The SCENE London.
1 The Country-Wife Act 1. Scene 1. Enter HornerHornerHorner To anyone attending or reading the play in this period, the name "Horner" would have immediately evoked the "horns" that traditionally were associated with cuckoldry, the practice of men having sex with the wives of other men. A man whose wife was unfaithful in this way was called a "cuckold," a term that comes from the cuckoo bird, which was believed to lay its eggs in another bird's nest. The horns were associated with male animals; to "horn" another man was to show your superior virility. , and Quack following him at a distance.Horner
                                        
    A Quack Quack QuackA fraudulent doctor.is as fit for a Pimp, as a Midwife for a BawdBawdBawdThe keeper of a brothel.; they are still but in their way, both helpers of Nature.—
asideasideasideA speech spoken
directly to the audience, breaking the fourth wall; the idea is that audience members hear this speech, but characters on stage do not..
—— Well, my dear Doctor, hast thou done what I desired.
                                    Quack
                                        
I have undone you for ever with the Women, and reported you throughout the whole Town as bad as an
EunuchEunuchEunuchA castrated man. , with as much trouble as if I had made you one in earnest.
                                    Horner
                                        But have you told all the Midwives you know, the Orange Wenches at the PlayhousesOrangeOrangeOranges sweet
        enough to eat out of your hand were comparatively new in England in the 1600s, and they became a popular snack-food.
They were sold as snacks at theaters by young women, who became known as "orange wenches." These young women were also responsible for passing messages between playgoers, or between
playgoers and performers. But some "orange wenches" were also sex workers, selling
more than oranges to the single young men who made up a substantial part of the audience in this period., the City Husbands, and old Fumbling Keepers of this end of the Town, for they'l be the readiest to report it.
                                    Quack
                                        
I have told all the Chamber-maids, Waiting women, Tyre womenTyreTyreA dresser, a woman who helps others get their clothes (their "attire") on., and Old women of my acquaintance; nay, and whisper'd it as a secret to'em, and to the Whisperers of
WhitehalWhitehalWhitehalWhitehall is 
the street in the Westminster where, in this period as in the modern day, much of the bureaucracy of the British government was located. And with
government bureaucracy goes lots of rumor-mongering; hence the "whisperers of Whitehal," who will be sure to spread false rumors about Horner.; so that you need not doubt 'twill spread, and you will be as odious to the handsome young Women, as—
                                    Horner
                                        As the small Pox.— Well—
                                    Quack
                                        And Women of this end of the Town, as—
                                    Horner
                                        As the great onesgreatgreatThat is, the "great pox," syphilis. 
In short, Horner has asked Quack to spread the rumor that he is impotent as a result of syphilis. This will make
women unwilling to have sex with him. The truth, of course, is that Horner is fine, and is having this rumor
spread so that husbands will not be concerned about Horner's being so intimate with their wives.; nay, as their own Husbands.
                                    Quack
                                        
And to the City Dames as Annis-seed
RobinAnnis-seedAnnis-seedAnnis-seed Robin, sometimes known as "Annis-seed Water Robin," was a real person in 
seventeenth-century London who received that nickname because they sold aniseed water, a derivative of hemlock that
was used as medicine for a variety of ailments, particularly digestive issues. More to the point here,
Annis-Seed Robin was reputed to be a hermaphrodite. By 1675, when this play was first staged, they were almost certainly dead, but
their reputation had passed into a kind of folk memory.
of filthy and contemptible memory; and they will frighten their Children with your name, especially their Females.
                                    Horner
                                        
And cry
Horner's
coming to carry you away : I am only afraid 'twill not be believ'd; you told'em 'twas by an
English-French
disaster, and an
English-French
ChirurgeonChirurgeonChirurgeonA now-archaic spelling of "surgeon.", who has given me at once, not only a Cure, but an Antidote for the future, against that damn'd malady, and that worse distemper, love, and all other Womens evils.
                                    Quack
                                        
Your late journey into
France
has made it the more credible, and your being here a fortnight before you appear'd in publick, looks as if you apprehended the shame, which I wonder you do not: Well I have been hired by young Gallants to bely'em t'other way; but you are the first wou'd be thought a Man unfit for Women.
                                    Horner
                                        Dear Mr. Doctor, let vain Rogues be contented only to be thought abler Men than they are, generally 'tis all the pleasure they have, but mine lyes another way.
                                    Quack
                                        You take, methinks, a very preposterous way to it, and as a ridiculous as if we Operators in PhysickPhysickPhysick"Physick" corresponds roughly
to the modern idea of internal medicine; it is where we get the term "physician." In this period, the medical profession was
divided by between practitioners of physick, who treated illness with medicine, and surgeons, who operated on the body with tools and sharp instruments. Surgeons also
cut hair and pulled teeth. At this time, practioniors of physick would have far outranked surgeons, who were associated with
more working-class or artisinal professions since they worked with their hands., shou'd put forth Bills to disparage our Medicaments, with hopes to gain Customers.
                                    Horner
                                        Doctor, there are Quacks in love, as well as Physick, who get but the fewer and worse Patients, for their boastings a good name is seldom got by giving it ones self, and Women no more than honour are compass'd by bragging : Come, come Doctor, the wisest Lawyer never discovers the merits of his cause till the tryal; the wealthiest Man conceals his riches, and the cunning Gamster his play; Shy Husbands and Keepers like old Rooks are not to be cheated, but by a new unpractis'd trick; false friendship will pass now no more than false dice upon'em, no, not in the City.
                                    Boy.
                                        There are two Ladies and a Gentleman coming up.
                                    Horner
                                        
A Pox, some unbelieving Sisters of my former acquaintance, who I am afraid, expect their sense shou'd be satisfy'd of the falsity of the report.
Enter Sir Jaspar Fidget, Lady Fidget, and Mrs. Dainty Fidget.
No—this formal Fool and Women!
                                    Quack
                                        His Wife and Sister. 
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
My Coach breaking just now before your door Sir, I look upon as an occasional repremand to me Sir, for not kissing your hands Sir, since your coming out of
France
Sir; and so my disaster Sir, has been my good fortune Sir; and this is my Wife, and Sister Sir.
                                    Horner
                                        What then, Sir?
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
My Lady, and Sister, Sir.— Wife, this is Master
Horner.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        
Master
Horner, Husband !
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
My Lady, my Lady
Fidget, Sir.
                                    Horner
                                        So, Sir.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
Won't you be acquainted with her Sir? [So the report is true, I find by his coldness or aversion to the Sex; but I'll play the wag with him.]
Aside.
Pray salute my Wife, my Lady, Sir.
                                    Horner
                                        I will kiss no Mans Wife, Sir, for him, Sir; I have taken my eternal leave, Sir, of the Sex already, Sir.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
Hah, hah, hah; I'll plague him yet.
aside.
Not know my Wife, Sir?
                                    Horner
                                        I do know your Wife, Sir, she's a Woman, Sir, and consequently a Monster, Sir, a greater Monster than a Husband, Sir.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        A Husband; how, Sir?
                                    Horner
                                        
So, Sir; but I make no more Cuckholds, Sir.
makes horns.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
Hah, hah, hah,
Mercury, Mercury.MercuryMercuryMercury
was one of the most common treatments for syphilis and other venereal diseases in this period; it could be ingested
like a medicine, or rubbed over the body. The so-called cure was sometimes as bad as the disease. Sir Jaspar is joking to himself that
Horner has probably taken mercury to cure his rumored bout with syphilis, and is therefore impotent.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        
Pray, Sir
Jaspar, let us be gone from this rude fellow.
                                    Mrs. Dainty
                                        
Who, by his breeding, wou'd think, he had ever been in
France?
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        
Foh, he's but too much a French fellow, such as hate Women of quality and virtue, for their love to their
4
Husbands, Sr.
Jaspar; a Woman is hated by'em as much for loving her Husband, as for loving their Money: But pray, let's be gone.
                                    Horner
                                        
You do well, Madam, for I have nothing that you came for: I have brought over not so much as a Bawdy Picture, new Postures, nor the second Part of the
Escole des FillesBawdyBawdyThat is, Horner is saying that he
is so disinterested in sex now that he has not bothered to bring back any pornography from France, such as erotic pictures, "postures" in the form of 
books outlining sexual positions, or copies of the "Escole des Filles", or "The Girl's School," a French
    erotic work first published in 1655 that was translated into English as "The School of Venus."
 ; Nor—
                                    Quack
                                        
Hold for shame, Sir; what d'y mean? you'l ruine your self for ever with the Sex—
apart to Horner.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        Hah, hah, hah, he hates Women perfectly I find.
                                    Dainty
                                        What pitty 'tis he shou'd.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        Ay, he's a base rude Fellow for't; but affectation makes not a Woman more odious to them, than Virtue.
                                    Horner
                                        Because your Virtue is your greatest affectation, Madam.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        How, you sawcy Fellow, wou'd you wrong my honour?
                                    Horner
                                        If I cou'd.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        How d'y mean, Sir?
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        Hah, hah, hah, no he can't wrong your Ladyships honour, upon my honour; he poor Man—hark you in your ear—a meer Eunuch.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        O filthy French Beast, soh, soh; why do we stay? let's be gone; I can't endure the sight of him.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        Stay, but till the Chairs come, they'l be here presently.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        No, no.
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
Nor can I stay longer; 'tis—let me see, a quarter and a half quarter of a minute past elevenminuteminutePocket watches
with minute hands were a very new (and expensive) piece of high tech in 1675. Up until that point, watches would only have had an hour hand. Jaspar is showing off his fancy new gadget.; the Council will be sate, I must away: business must be preferr'd always before Love and Ceremony with the wise Mr.
Horner.
                                    Horner
                                        
And the Impotent Sir
Jaspar
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
Ay, ay, the impotent Master
Horner, hah, ha, ha.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        What leave us with a filthy Man alone in his lodgings?
                                    Sir Jaspar
                                        
He's an innocent Man now, you know; pray stay, I'll hasten the ChairesChaires ChairesThat is, a sedan chair, an enclosed chair for hire
that would be carried on the shoulders of two men. In this era, traveling by chair was an expensive way to get around London, but in
a period when the streets would have been pretty muddy and filthy, it was the best way to travel in style and also keep your clothes from getting dirty.to you. —Mr.
Horner
your Servant,
5
shou'd be glad to see you at my house; pray, come and dine with me, and play at Cards with my Wife after dinner, you are fit for Women at that game; yet hah, ha—['Tis as much a Husbands prudence to provide innocent diversion for a Wife, as to hinder her unlawful pleasures; and he had better employ her, than let her employ her self.
Aside.
Farewel.
Exit Sir Jaspar
                                    Horner
                                        
Your Servant Sr.
Jaspar
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        I will not stay with him, foh—
                                    Horner
                                        Nay, Madam, I beseech you stay, if it be but to see, I can be as civil to Ladies yet, as they wou'd desire.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        No, no, foh, you cannot be civil to Ladies.
                                    Dainty
                                        You as civil as Ladies wou'd desire.
                                    Lady Fidget
                                        
No, no, no, foh, foh, foh.
Exeunt Lady Fidget and Dainty.
                                    Quack
                                        Now I think, I, or you your self rather, have done your business with the Women.
                                    Horner
                                        Thou art an Ass, don't you see already upon the report and my carriage, this grave Man of business leaves his Wife in my lodgings, invites me to his house and wife, who before wou'd not be acquainted with me out of jealousy.
                                    Quack
                                        Nay, by this means you may be the more acquainted with the Husbands, but the less with the Wives.
                                    Horner
                                        Let me alone, if I can but abuse the Husbands, I'll soon disabuse the Wives: Stay—I'll reckon you up the advantages, I am like to have by my Stratagem: First, I shall be rid of all my old Acquaintances, the most insatiable sorts of DunsDunsDunsCreditors showing up with unpaid bills. , that invade our Lodgings in a morning: And next, to the pleasure of making a New Mistriss is that of being rid of an old One, and of all old Debts; Love when it comes to be so, is paid the most unwillingly.
                                    Quack
                                        Well, you may be so rid of your old Acquaintances; but how will you get any new Ones?
                                    Horner
                                        
Doctor, thou wilt never make a good Chymist, thou art so incredulous and impatient; ask but all the young Fellows of the Town, if they do not loose more time like Huntsmen, in starting the game, than in running it down; one
6
knows not where to find'em, who will, or will not; Women of Quality are so civil, you can hardly distinguish love from good breeding, and a Man is often mistaken; but now I can be sure, she that shews an aversion to me loves the sport, as those Women that are gone, whom I warrant to be right: And then the next thing, is your Women of Honour, as you call'em, are only chary of their reputations, not their Persons, and 'tis scandal they wou'd avoid, not Men: Now may I have, by the reputation of an Eunuch, the Priviledges of One; and be seen in a Ladies Chamber, in a morning as early as her Husband; kiss Virgins before their Parents, or Lovers; and may be in short the
Pas par toutPasPasFrench for "pass through everything" or "pass everywhere": a pass key or master-key that opens
every lock. Horner is saying that he will now be able to go into every house he wants.
of the Town. Now Doctor.
                                    Quack
                                        Nay, now you shall be the Doctor; and your Process is so new, that we do not know but it may succeed.
                                    Horner
                                        
Not so new neither,
Probatum estProbatumProbatumLatin for "it is proven."
Doctor.
                                    Quack
                                        
Well, I wish you luck and many Patients whil'st I go to mine.
Exit Quack.
Enter Harcourt, and Dorilant to Horner.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Come, your appearance at the Play yesterday, has I hope hardned you for the future against the Womens contempt, and the Mens raillery; and now you'l abroad as you were wont.
                                    Horner
                                        Did I not bear it bravely?
                                    Dorilant
                                        With a most Theatrical impudence; nay more than the Orange-wenches shew there, or a drunken vizardvizardvizard
        In this period, it had become fashionable for women to black "vizard masks" in public, disguising their identity and creating an aura of mystery. They were worn by 
        respectable women, but a women known *as* a "Vizard Mask" was likely to be a sex worker.
 Mask, or a great belly'd Actress; nay, or the most impudent of Creatures, and ill Poet; or what is yet more impudent, a secondhand Critick.
                                    Horner
                                        But what say the Ladies, have they no pitty?
                                    Harcourt
                                        What Ladies? the vizard Masques you know never pitty a Man when all's gone, though in their Service.
                                    Dorilant
                                        And for the Women in the boxes, you'd never pitty them, when 'twas in your power.
                                    Harcourt
                                        They say 'tis pitty, but all that deal with common Women shou'd be serv'd so.
                                    Dorilant
                                        
Nay, I dare swear, they won't admit you to play at
7
Cards with them, go to Plays with'em, or do the little duties which other Shadows of men, are wont to do for'em.
                                    Horner
                                        Who do you call Shadows of Men?
                                    Dorilant
                                        Half Men.
                                    Horner
                                        What Boyes?
                                    Dorilant
                                        
Ay your old Boyes, old
beaux Garcons, who like superannuated Stallions are suffer'd to run, feed, and whinney with the Mares as long as they live, though they can do nothing else.
                                    Horner
                                        Well a Pox on love and wenching, Women serve but to keep a Man from better Company; though I can't enjoy them, I shall you the more: good fellowship and friendship, are lasting, rational and manly pleasures.
                                    Harcourt
                                        For all that give me some of those pleasures, you call effeminate too, they help to relish one another.
                                    Horner
                                        They disturb one another.
                                    Harcourt
                                        No, Mistresses are like Books; if you pore upon them too much, they doze you, and make you unfit for Company; but if us'd discreetly, you are the fitter for conversation by'em.
                                    Dorilant
                                        A Mistress shou'd be like a little Country retreat near the Town, not to dwell in constantly, but only for a night and away; to tast the Town the better when a Man returns.
                                    Horner
                                        I tell you, 'tis as hard to be a good Fellow, a good Friend, and a Lover of Women, as 'tis to be a good Fellow, a good Friend, and a Lover of Money : You cannot follow both, then choose your side; Wine gives you liberty, Love takes it away.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Gad, he's in the right on't.
                                    Horner
                                        Wine gives you joy, Love grief and tortures; besides the Chirurgeon's Wine makes us witty, Love only Sots: Wine makes us sleep, Love breaks it.
                                    Dorilant
                                        
By the World he has reason,
Harcourt.
                                    Horner
                                        Wine makes—
                                    Dorilant
                                        Ay, Wine makes us—makes us Princes, Love makes us Beggars, poor Rogues, y gad—and Wine—
                                    Horner
                                        
So, there's one converted.—No, no, Love and Wine, Oil and Vinegar.
8
                                    Harcourt
                                        I grant it; Love will still be uppermost.
                                    Horner
                                        
Come, for my part I will have only those glorious, manly pleasures of being very drunk, and very slovenly.
Enter Boy.
                                    Boy.
                                        
Mr.
Sparkish
is below, Sir.
                                    Harcourt
                                        What, my dear Friend! a Rogue that is fond of me, only I think for abusing him.
                                    Dorilant
                                        No, he can no more think the Men laugh at him, than that Women jilt him, his opinion of himself is so good.
                                    Horner
                                        Well, there's another pleasure by drinking, I thought not of; I shall loose his acquaintance, because he cannot drink; and you know 'tis a very hard thing to be rid of him, for he's one of those nauseous offerers at wit, who like the worst Fidlers run themselves into all Companies.
                                    Harcourt
                                        One, that by being in the Company of Men of sense wou'd pass for one.
                                    Horner
                                        And may so to the short-sighted World, as a false Jewel amongst true ones, is not discern'd at a distance; his Company is as troublesome to us, as a Cuckholds, when you have a mind to his Wife's.
                                    Harcourt
                                        
No, the Rogue will not let us enjoy one another, but ravishes our conversation, though he signifies no more to't, than Sir
Martin Mar-all'sMartinMartin"Martin Mar-all" is the lead character in a popular contemporary
comedy of the same name, adapted by John Dryden from a French play by Moliere. As his name suggests, Martin Mar-all is a bit of a fool. In the scene referred to here, he mimes
singing while playing a lute to seduce a woman, but the voice is actually coming from his servant offstage; the servant stops, but Mar-all continues miming, thereby
messing up the entire plan.
gaping, and auker'daukerdaukerdawkwardthrumming upon the Lute, does to his Man's Voice, and Musick.
                                    Dorilant
                                        And to pass for a wit in Town, shewes himself a fool every night to us, that are guilty of the plot.
                                    Horner
                                        Such wits as he are, to a Company of reasonable Men, like Rooks to the GamestersRooksRooksA rook is someone who cheats at cards, so a "rook" to a group of ordinary "gamesters" would 
be who is ruining the game for everyone else involved, who only fill a room at the Table, but are so far from contributing to the play, that they only serve to spoil the fancy of those that do.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Nay, they are us'd like Rooks too, snub'd, check'd, and abus'd; yet the Rogues will hang on.
                                    Horner
                                        A Pox on'em, and all that force Nature, and wou'd be still what she forbids'em; Affectation is her greatest Monster.
                                    Harcourt
                                        
Most Men are the contraries to that they wou'd seem; your bully you see, is a Coward with a long Sword; the little humbly fawning Physician with his Ebony cane, is he that destroys Men.
9
                                    Dorilant
                                        The Usurer, a poor Rogue, possess'd of moldy Bonds, and Mortgages; and we they call Spend-thrifts, are only wealthy, who lay out his money upon daily new purchases of pleasure.
                                    Horner
                                        
Ay, your errantest cheat, is your Trustee, or Executor; your jealous Man, the greatest Cuckhold; your Church-man, the greatest Atheist; and your noisy pert Rogue of a wit, the greatest FopFop FopA man who was overly concerned with his appearance to the point of being ridiculous. The figure of the "fop" was
a frequent butt of jokes in this period., dullest Ass, and worst Company as you shall see: For here he comes.
Enter Sparkish to them.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
How is't, Sparks, how is't? Well Faith,
Harry, I must raillyrailly raillyto banter with in a teasing or mocking sensethee a little, ha, ha, ha, upon the report in Town of thee, ha, ha, ha, I can't hold y Faith; shall I speak?
                                    Horner
                                        Yes, but you'l be so bitter then.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
Honest
Dick
and
Franck
here shall answer for me, I will not be extream bitter by the Universe.
                                    Harcourt
                                        We will be bound in ten thousand pound Bond, he shall not be bitter at all.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Nor sharp, nor sweet.
                                    Horner
                                        What, not down right insipid?
                                    Sparkish
                                        Nay then, since you are so brisk, and provoke me, take what follows; you must know, I was discoursing and raillying with some Ladies yesterday, and they hapned to talk of the fine new signes in Town.
                                    Horner
                                        Very fine Ladies I believe.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
Said I, I know where the best new sign is. Where, says one of the Ladies? In
Covent-Garden, I reply'd. Said another, In what street? In
Russel-streetRussel-streetRussel-street
    Russell Street, where Horner lives, is right in the middle of the Covent Garden neighborhood,
    close to the playhouses, and a very short walk from theater where this play was first staged., answered I. Lord says another, I'm sure there was, said I again, and it came out of
France, and has been there a fortnight.
                                    Dorilant
                                        A Pox I can hear no more, prethee.
                                    Horner
                                        No hear him out; let him tune his crowd a while.
                                    Harcourt
                                        The worst Musick the greatest preparation.
                                    Sparkish
                                        Nay faith, I'll make you laugh. It cannot be, says a third Lady. Yes, yes, quoth I again. Says a fourth Lady,
                                    Horner
                                        Look to't, we'l have no more Ladies.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
No.—then mark, mark, now, said I to the fourth, did you never see Mr.
Horner; he lodges in
Russel-street, and he's a sign of a Man, you know, since he came out of
France, heh, hah, he.
                                    Horner
                                        But the Divel take me, if thine be the sign of a jest.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
With that they all fell a laughing, till they bepiss'd themselves; what, but it do's not move you, methinks? well see one had as good go to Law without a witness, as break a jest without a laugher on ones side.—Come, come Sparks, but where do we dine, I have left at
Whitehal
an Earl to dine with you.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Why, I thought thou hadst lov'd a Man with a title better, than a Suit with a French trimming to't.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Go, to him again.
                                    Sparkish
                                        No, Sir, a wit to me is the greatest title in the World.
                                    Horner
                                        But go dine with your Earl, Sir, he may be exceptiousexceptious;
    exceptiousaggrieved, in the sense of "taking exception to"we are your Friends, and will not take it ill to be left, I do assure you.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Nay, faith he shall go to him.
                                    Sparkish
                                        Nay, pray Gentlemen.
                                    Dorilant
                                        We'l thrust you out, if you wo'not, what disappoint any Body for us.
                                    Sparkish
                                        Nay, dear Gentlemen hear me.
                                    Horner
                                        No, no, Sir, by no means; pray go Sir.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
Why, dear Rogues.
They all thrust him out of the room.
Sparkish returns.
                                    Sparkish
                                        But, Sparks, pray hear me; what d'ye think I'll eat then with gay shallow Fops, and silent Coxcombs? I think wit as necessary at dinner as a glass of good wine, and that's the reason I never have any stomach when I eat alone.—Come, but where do we dine?
                                    Horner
                                        Ev'n where you will.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
At
Chateline's.ChatelineChateline
 Chateline's, or, in some accounts, Chatelaine's was a popular French restaurant in the Covent Garden neighborhood. The "Cock" and the "Dog and Partidge" are also 
 local eating places.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Yes, if you will.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
Or at the
Cock.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Yes, if you please.
                                    Sparkish
                                        
Or at the
Dog
and
Partridge.
                                    Horner
                                        Ay, if you have mind to't, for we shall dine at neither.
                                    Sparkish
                                        Pshaw, with your fooling we shall loose the new Play; and I wou'd no more miss seing a new Play the first day, than I wou'd miss setting in the wits Row; therefore I'll go fetch my Mistriss and away. 
                                    Horner
                                        
Who have we here,
Pinchwife?
                                    Mr. Pinchwife.
                                        Gentlemen, your humble Servant.
                                    Horner
                                        
Well,
Jack, by thy long absence from the Town, the grumness of thy countenance, and the slovenlyness of thy habit; I shou'd give thee joy, shou'd I not, of Marriage?
                                    Mr. Pinchwife
                                        
[Death does he know I'm married too? I thought to have conceal'd it from him at least.]
Aside.
My long stay in the Country will excuse my dress, and I have a suit of Law, that brings me up to Town, that puts me out of humour; besides I must give
Sparkish
tomorrow five thousand pound to lye with my Sister.
                                    Horner
                                        Nay, you Country Gentlemen rather than not purchase, will buy any thing, and he is a crackt title, if we may quibble: Well, but am I to give thee joy, I heard thou wert marry'd.
                                    Mr. Pinchwife
                                        What then?
                                    Horner
                                        Why, the next thing that is to be heard, is thou'rt a Cuckold.
                                    Mr. Pinchwife
                                        
Insupportable name.
Aside.
                                    Horner
                                        But I did not expect Marriage from such a Whoremaster as you, one that knew the Town so much, and Women so well.
                                    Mr. Pinchwife
                                        
Why, I have marry'd no
London
Wife.
                                    Horner
                                        
Pshaw, that's all one, that grave circumspection in marrying a Country Wife, is like refusing a deceitful pamper'd
Smithfield
Jade, to go and be cheated by a Friend in the Country.
                                    Mr. Pinchwife
                                        
A Pox on him and his Simile.
Aside.
At least we are a little surer of the breed there, know what her keeping has been, whether foyl'd or unsound.
                                    Horner
                                        
Come, come, I have known a clapclapclapcase of venereal disease, most typically gonorrhea gotten in
Wales
and
12
there are Cozens, Justices, Clarks, and Chaplains in the Country, I won't say Coach-men, but she's handsome and young.
                                    Pinchwife.
                                        
I'll answer as I shou'd do.
Aside.
No, no, she has no beauty, but her youth; no attraction, but her modesty, wholesome, homely, and huswifely, that's all.
                                    Dorilant
                                        He talks as like a Grasier as he looks.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        She's too auker'd, ill favour'd, and silly to bring to Town.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Then methinks you shou'd bring her, to be taught breeding.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        To be taught; no, Sir, I thank you, good Wives, and private Souldiers shou'd be ignorant.—[I'll keep her from your instructions, I warrant you.
                                    Harcourt
                                        
The Rogue is as jealous, as if his wife were not ignorant.
Aside.
                                    Horner
                                        Why, if she be ill favour'd, there will be less danger here for you, than by leaving her in the Country; we have such variety of dainties, that we are seldom hungry.
                                    Dorilant
                                        But they have alwayes coarse, constant, swinging stomachs in the Country.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Foul Feeders indeed.
                                    Dorilant
                                        And your Hospitality is great there.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Open house, every Man's welcome.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        So, so, Gentlemen.
                                    Horner
                                        But prethee, why woud'st thou marry her? if she be ugly, ill bred, and silly, she must be rich then.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
As rich as if she brought me twenty thousand pound out of this Town; for she'l be as sure not to spend her moderate portion, as a
London
Baggage wou'd be to spend hers, let it be what it wou'd; so 'tis all one: then because shes ugly, she's the likelyer to be my own; and being ill bred, she'l hate conversation; and since silly and innocent, will not know the difference betwixt a Man of one and twenty, and one of forty
                                    Horner
                                        
Nine—to my knowledge; but if she be silly, she'l expect as much from a Man of forty nine, as from him of one and twenty: But methinks wit is more necessary than beauty,
13
and I think no young Woman ugly that has it, and no handsome Woman agreable without it.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        'Tis my maxime, he's a Fool that marrys, but he's a greater that does not marry a Fool; what is wit in a Wife good for, but to make a Man a Cuckold?
                                    Horner
                                        Yes, to keep it from his knowledge.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        A Fool cannot contrive to make her husband a Cuckold.
                                    Horner
                                        No, but she'l club with a Man that can; and what is worse, if she cannot make her Husband a Cuckold, she'l make him jealous, and pass for one, and then 'tis all one.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
Well, well, I'll take care for one, my Wife shall make me no Cuckold, though she had your help Mr.
Horner; I understand the Town, Sir.
                                    Dorilant
                                        
His help!
Aside.
                                    Harcourt
                                        
He's come newly to Town it seems, and has not heard how things are with him.
Aside
                                    Horner
                                        But tell me, has Marriage cured thee of whoring, which it seldom does.
                                    Harcourt
                                        'Tis more than age can do.
                                    Horner
                                        No, the word is, I'll marry and live honest; but a Marriage vow is like a penitent Gamesters Oath, and entring into Bonds, and penalties to stint himself to such a particular small sum at play for the future, which makes him but the more eager, and not being able to hold out, looses his Money again, and his forfeit to boot.
                                    Dorilant
                                        Ay, ay, a Gamester will be a Gamester, whilst his Money lasts; and a Whoremaster, whilst his vigour.
                                    Harcourt
                                        Nay, I have known'em, when they are broke and can loose no more, keep a fumbling with the Box in their hands to fool with only, and hinder other Gamesters.
                                    Dorilant
                                        That had wherewithal to make lusty stakes.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        Well, Gentlemen, you may laugh at me, but you shall never lye with my Wife, I know the Town.
                                    Horner
                                        But prethee, was not the way you were in better, is not keeping better than Marriage?
                                    Pinchwife
                                        A Pox on't, the Jades wou'd jilt me, I cou'd never keep a Whore to my self.
                                    Horner
                                        So then you only marry'd to keep a Whore to your self; well, but let me tell you, Women, as you say, are like Souldiers made constant and loyal by good pay, rather than by Oaths and Covenants, therefore I'd advise my Friends to keep rather than marry; since too I find by your example, it does not serve ones turn, for I saw you yesterday in the eighteen penny place with a pretty Country-wench.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
How the Divel, did he see my Wife then? I sate there that she might not be seen; but she shall never go to a play again.
Aside.
                                    Horner
                                        What dost thou blush at nine and forty, for having been seen with a Wench?
                                    Dorilant
                                        No Faith, I warrant 'twas his Wife; for Men are now there out of sight, for he's a cunning Rogue, and understands the Town.
                                    Harcourt
                                        He blushes, then 'twas his Wife; for Men are now more ashamed to be seen with them in publick, than with a Wench.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
Hell and damnation, I'm undone, since
Horner
has seen her, and they know 'twas she.
Aside.
                                    Horner
                                        But prethee, was it thy Wife? She was exceedingly pretty; I was in love with her at that distance.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
You are like never to be nearer to her. Your Servant Gentleman.
Offers to go.
                                    Horner
                                        Nay, prethee stay.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        I cannot, I will not.
                                    Horner
                                        Come you shall dine with us.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        I have din'd already.
                                    Horner
                                        
Come, I know thou hast not; I'll treat thee dear Rogue, sha't spend none of thy
Hampshire
Money to day.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
Treat me; so he uses me already like his Cuckold.
Aside.
                                    Horner
                                        Nay, you shall not go.
                                    Pinchwife
                                        
I must, I have business at home.
Exit Pinchwife.
                                    Harcourt
                                        
To beat his Wife, he's as jealous of her, as a
Cheapside
Husband of a
Covent-garden
Wife.
                                    Horner
                                        Why, tis as hard to find an old Whoremaster without jealousy and the gout, as a young one without fear or the Pox.As Gout in Age, from Pox in Youth proceeds;So Wenching past, then jealousy succeeds:The worst disease that Love and Wenching breeds.
                                    Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Pray, Sister, where are the best Fields and Woods, to walk in in
London?
                                            Alithea
                                                
A pretty Question; why, Sister! Mulberry Garden
and St.
James's Park; and for close walks the
New Exchange.Mulberry,MulberryMulberry Gardens, so called because
of mulberry trees that had been planted there decades earlier, were located about where Buckingham Palace is now. St. James's Park 
is a nearby royal park. The New Exchange was an enclosed shopping arcade on the Strand. 
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray, Sister, tell me why my Husband looks so grum here in Town? and keeps me up so close, and will not let me go a walking, nor let me wear my best Gown yesterday?
                                            Alithea
                                                O he's jealous, Sister.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Jealous, what's that?
                                            Alithea
                                                He's afraid you shou'd love another Man.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                How shou'd he be afraid of my loving another man, when he will not let me see any but himself.
                                            Alithea
                                                Did he not carry you yesterday to a Play?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, but we sate amongst ugly People, he wou'd not let me come near the Gentry, who sate under us, so that I cou'd not see'em : He told me, none but naughty Women sate there, whom they tous'd and mous'd; but I wou'd have ventur'd for all that.
                                            Alithea
                                                But how did you like the Play?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Indeed I was aweary of the Play, but I lik'd hugeously the Actors; they are the goodlyest proper'st Men, Sister.
                                            Alithea
                                                O but you must not like the Actors, Sister.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, how shou'd I help it, Sister? Pray, Sister, when my Husband comes in, will you ask leave for me to go a walking?
                                            Alithea
                                                
A walking, hah, ha; Lord, a Country Gentlewomans leasure is the drudgery of a foot-post; and she requires as much airing as her Husbands Horses.
Aside.
Enter Mr. Pinchwife to them.
But here comes your Husband; I'll ask, though I'm sure he'l not grant it.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                He says he won't let me go abroad, for fear of catching the Pox.
                                            Alithea
                                                Fye, the small Pox you shou'd say.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Oh my dear, dear Bud, welcome home; why dost thou look so fropish, who has nanger'd thee?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Your a Fool.
Mrs. Pinchwife goes aside, & cryes.
                                            Alithea
                                                Faith so she is, for crying for no fault, poor tender Creature!
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What you wou'd have her as impudent as your self, as errant a Jilflirt, a gadder, a Magpy, and to say all a meer notorious Town-Woman?
                                            Alit.
                                                Brother, you are my only Censurer; and the honour of your Family shall sooner suffer in your Wife there, than in me, though I take the innocent liberty of the Town.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Hark you Mistriss, do not talk so before my Wife, the innocent liberty of the Town!
                                            Alithea
                                                Why, pray, who boasts of any intrigue with me? what Lampoon has made my name notorious? what ill Women frequent my Lodgings? I keep no Company with any Women of scandalous reputations.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                No, you keep the Men of scandalous reputations Company.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Where? wou'd you not have me civil? answer'em in a Box at the Plays? in the drawing room at
Whitehal? in
St. James's Park?
Mulberry-garden? or—
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Hold, hold, do not teach my Wife, where the Men are to be found; I believe she's the worse for your Town
17
documents already; I bid you keep her in ignorance as I do.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Indeed be not angry with her Bud, she will tell me nothing of the Town, though I ask her a thousand times a day.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Then you are very inquisitive to know, I find?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Not I indeed, Dear, I hate
London; our Placehouse in the Country is worth a thousand of't, wou'd I were there again.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                So you shall I warrant; but were you not talking of Plays, and Players, when I came in? you are her encourager in such discourses.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                No indeed, Dear, she chid me just now for liking the Player Men.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Nay, if she be so innocent as to own to me her likeing them, there is no hurt in't—
Aside.
Come my poor Rogue, but thou lik'st none better then me?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Yes indeed, but I do, the Player Men are finer Folks.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But you love none better then me?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                You are mine own Dear Bud, and I know you, I hate a Stranger.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, my Dear, you must love me only, and not be like the naughty Town Women, who only hate their Husbands, and love every Man else, love Plays, Visits, fine Coaches, fine Cloaths, Fidles, Balls, Treates, and so lead a wicked Town-life.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Nay, if to enjoy all these things be a Town-life,
London
is not so bad a place, Dear.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
How! if you love me, you must hate
London.
                                            Alithea
                                                The Fool has forbid me discovering to her the pleasures of the Town, and he is now setting her a gog upon them himself.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                But, Husband, do the Town-women love the Player Men too?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, I warrant you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, I warrant you.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Why, you do not, I hope?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                No, no, Bud; but why have we no Player-men in the Country?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Ha—Mrs. Minx, ask me no more to go to a Play.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, why, Love? I did not care for going; but when you forbid me, you make me as't were desire it.
                                            Alithea
                                                
So 'twill be in other things, I warrant.
Aside.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray, let me go to a Play, Dear.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Hold your Peace, I wo'not.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Why, Love?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Why, I'll tell you.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Nay, if he tell her, she'l give him more cause to forbid her that place.
Aside.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray, why, Dear?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                First, you like the Actors, and the Gallants may like you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                What, a homely Country Girl? no Bud, no body will like me.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I tell you, yes, they may.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                No, no, you jest—I won't believe you, I will go.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I tell you then, that one of the lewdest Fellows in Town, who saw you there, told me he was in love with you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Indeed! who, who, pray, who wast?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
I've gone too far, and slipt before I was aware; how overjoy'd she is!
Aside.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Was it any
Hampshire
Gallant, any of our Neighbours? I promise you, I am beholding to him.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I promise you, you lye; for he wou'd but ruin you, as he has done hundreds: he has no other love for Women, but that, such as he, look upon Women like BasilicksBasilicksBasilicksA mythical serpent-creature that kills by looking at you., but to destroy'em.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, but if he loves me, why shou'd he ruin me? answer me to that: methinks he shou'd not, I wou'd do him no harm.
                                            Alithea
                                                Hah, ha, ha.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
'Tis very well; but I'll keep him from doing you any harm, or me either.
19
Enter Sparkish and Harcourt.
But here comes Company, get you in, get you in.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                But pray, Husband, is he a pretty Gentleman, that loves me?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
In baggage, in.
Thrusts her in: shuts the door.
What all the lewd Libertines of the Town brought to my Lodging, by this easie Coxcomb! S'death I'll not suffer it.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Here
Harcourt, do you approve my choice? Dear, little Rogue, I told you, I'd bring you acquainted with all my Friends, the wits, and—
Harcourt salutes her.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, they shall know her, as well as you your self will, I warrant you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                This is one of those, my pretty Rogue, that are to dance at your wedding to morrow; and him you must bid welcome ever, to what you and I have.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Monstrous!—
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Harcourt
how dost thou like her, Faith? Nay, Dear, do not look down; I should hate to have a wife of mine out of countenance at any thing.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Wonderful!
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Tell me, I say,
Harcourt, how dost thou like her? thou hast star'd upon her enough, to resolve me.
                                            Harcourt
                                                So infinitely well, that I cou'd wish I had a Mistriss too, that might differ from her in nothing, but her love and engagement to you.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Sir, Master
Sparkish
has often told me, that his Acquaintance were all Wits and Raillieurs, and now I find it.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No, by the Universe, Madam, he does not railly now; you may believe him: I do assure you, he is the honestest, worthyest, true hearted Gentleman— A man of such perfect honour, he wou'd say nothing to a Lady, he does not mean.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Praising another Man to Mistriss!
                                            Harcourt
                                                Sir, you are so beyond expectation obliging, that—
                                            Sparkish
                                                Nay, I gad, I am sure you do admire her extreamly, I see't in your eyes.— He does admire you Madam.— By the World, don't you?
                                            Harcourt
                                                Yes, above the World, or, the most glorious part of it, her whole Sex; and till now I never thought I shou'd have envy'd you, or any Man about to marry, but you have the best excuse for Marriage I ever knew.
                                            Alithea
                                                Nay, now, Sir, I'm satisfied you are of the Society of the Wits, and Raillieurs, since you cannot spare your Friend, even when he is but too civil to you; but the surest sign is, since you are an Enemy to Marriage, for that I hear you hate as much as business or bad Wine.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Truly, Madam, I never was an Enemy to Marriage, till now, because Marriage was never an Enemy to me before.
                                            Alithea
                                                But why, Sir, is Marriage an Enemy to you now? Because it robs you of your Friend here; for you look upon a Friend married as one gone into a Monastery, that is dead to the World.
                                            Harcourt
                                                'Tis indeed, because you marry him; I see Madam, you can guess my meaning: I do confess heartily and openly, I wish it were in my power to break the Match, by Heavens I wou'd.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Poor
Franck!
                                            Alithea
                                                Wou'd you be so unkind to me?
                                            Harcourt
                                                No, no, 'tis not because I wou'd be unkind to you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Poor
Franck, no gad, 'tis only his kindness to me.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                
Great kindness to you indeed; insensible Fop, let a Man make love to his Wife to his face.
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Come dear
Franck, for all my Wife there that shall be, thou shalt enjoy me sometimes dear Rogue; by my honour, we Men of wit condole for our deceased Brother in Marriage, as much as for one dead in earnest: I think that was prettily said of me, ha
Harcourt?
—But come
Franck, be not not melancholy for me.
                                            Harcourt
                                                No, I assure you I am not melancholy for you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Prethee,
Frank, dost think my Wife that shall be there a fine Person.
                                            Harcourt
                                                I cou'd gaze upon her, till I became as blind as you are.
                                            Sparkish
                                                How, as I am! how!
                                            Harcourt
                                                Because you are a Lover, and true Lovers are blind, stockblind.
                                            Sparkish
                                                True, true; but by the World, she has wit too, as well as beauty: go, go with her into a corner, and trye if she has wit, talk to her any thing, she's bashful before me.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Indeed if a Woman wants wit in a corner, she has it no where.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Sir, you dispose of me a little before your time.—
Aside to Sparkish.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Nay nay, Madam let me have an earnest of your obedience, or—go, go, Madam—
Harcourt courts Alithea aside.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                How, Sir, if you are not concern'd for the honour of a Wife, I am for that of a Sister; he shall not debauch her: be a Pander to your own Wife, bring Men to her, let'em make love before your face, thrust'em into a corner together, then leav'em in private! is this your Town wit and conduct?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Hah, ha, ha, a silly wise Rogue, wou'd make one laugh more then a stark Fool, hah, ha: I shall burst. Nay, you shall not disturb'em; I'll vex thee, by the World.
Struggles with Pinch. to keep him from Harc. and Alithea
                                            Alithea
                                                The writings are drawn, Sir, settlements made; 'tis too late, Sir, and past all revocation.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Then so is my death.
                                            Alithea
                                                I wou'd not be unjust to him.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Then why to me so?
                                            Alithea
                                                I have no obligation to you.
                                            Harcourt
                                                My love.
                                            Alithea
                                                I had this before.
                                            Harcourt
                                                You never had it; he wants you see jealousie, the only infallible sign of it.
                                            Alithea
                                                Love proceeds from esteem; he cannot distrust my virtue, besides he loves me, or he wou'd not marry me.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Marrying you, is no more sign of his love, then bribing your Woman, that he may marry you, is a sign of his generosity: Marriage is rather a sign of interest, then love; and he that marries a fortune, covets a Mistress, not loves
22
her: But if you take Marriage for sign of love, take it from me immediately.
                                            Alithea
                                                No, now you have put a scruple in my head; but in short, Sir, to end our dispute, I must marry him, my reputation wou'd suffer in the World else.
                                            Harcourt
                                                No, if you do marry him, with your pardon, Madam, your reputation suffers in the World, and you wou'd be thought in necessity for a cloak.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Nay, now you are rude, Sir.—Mr.
Sparkish, pray come hither, your Friend here is very troublesom, and very loving.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Hold, hold—
Aside to Alithea.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                D'ye hear that?
                                            Sparkish
                                                Why, d'ye think I'll seem to be jealous, like a Country Bumpkin?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                No, rather be a Cuckold, like a credulous Cit.CitCitA citizen. A "credulous cit" would be a unsuspecting or overly gullible citizen.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Madam, you wou'd not have been so little generous as to have told him.
                                            Alithea
                                                Yes, since you cou'd be so little generous, as to wrong him.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Wrong him, no Man can do't, he's beneath an injury; a Bubble, a Coward, a sensless Idiot, a Wretch so contemptible to all the World but you, that—
                                            Alithea
                                                
Hold, do not rail at him, for since he is like to be my Husband, I am resolved to like him: Nay, I think I am oblig'd to tell him, you are not his Friend.— Master
Sparkish, Master
Sparkish.
                                            Sparkish
                                                What, what; now dear Rogue, has not she wit?
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Not so much as I thought, and hoped she had.
Speaks surlily.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Mr.
Sparkish, do you bring People to rail at you?
                                            Harcourt
                                                Madam—
                                            Spar
                                                How! no, but if he does rail at me, 'tis but in jest I warrant; what we wits do for one another, and never take any notice of it.
                                            Alithea
                                                He spoke so scurrilously of you, I had no patience to hear him; besides he has been making love to me.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
True damn'd tell-tale-Woman.
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Pshaw, to shew his parts—we wits rail and make love often, but to shew our parts; as we have no affections, so we have no malice, we—
                                            Alithea
                                                He said, you were a Wretch, below an injury.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Pshaw.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Damn'd, sensless, impudent, virtuous Jade; well since she won't let me have her, she'l do as good, she'l make me hate her.
                                            Alithea
                                                A Common Bubble.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Pshaw.
                                            Alithea
                                                A Coward.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Pshaw, pshaw.
                                            Alithea
                                                A sensless driveling Idiot.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
How, did he disparage my parts? Nay, then my honour's concern'd, I can't put up that, Sir; by the World, Brother help me to kill him; [I may draw now, since we have the odds of him:—'tis a good occasion too before my Mistriss]—
Aside.
Offers to draw.
                                            Alithea
                                                Hold, hold.
                                            Sparkish
                                                What, what.
                                            Alithea
                                                
I must not let'em kill the Gentleman neither, for his kindness to me; I am so far from hating him, that I wish my Gallant had his person and understanding:— [Nay if my honour—
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                I'll be thy death.
                                            Alithea
                                                Hold, hold, indeed to tell the truth, the Gentleman said after all, that what he spoke, was but out of friendship to you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                How! say, I am, I am a Fool, that is no wit, out of friendship to me.
                                            Alithea
                                                Yes, to try whether I was concern'd enough for you, and made love to me only to be satisfy'd of my virtue, for your sake.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Kind however—
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Nay, if it were so, my dear Rogue, I ask thee pardon; but why wou'd not you tell me so, faith.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Because I did not think on't, faith.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Come,
Horner
does not come,
Harcourt, let's be gone to the new Play.—Come Madam.
                                            Alithea
                                                I will not go, if you intend to leave me alone in the Box, and run into the pit, as you use to do.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Pshaw, I'll leave
Harcourt
with you in the Box, to entertain you, and that's as good; if I sate in the Box, I shou'd be thought no Judge, but of trimmings.—Come away
Harcourt, lead her down.
Exeunt Sparkish, Harcourt, and Alithea.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                
Well, go thy wayes, for the flower of the true Town Fops, such as spend their Estates, before they come to'em, and are Cuckolds before they'r married. But let me go look to my own Free-hold—How—
Enter my Lady Fidget, Mistriss Dainty Fidget, and Mistriss Squeamish.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Your Servant, Sir, where is your Lady? we are come to wait upon her to the new Play.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                New Play!
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                And my Husband will wait upon you presently.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                
Damn your civility— Madam, by no means, I will not see Sir
Jaspar
here, till I have waited upon him at home; nor shall my Wife see you, till she has waited upon your Ladyship at your lodgings.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Now we are here, Sir—
                                            Pinchwife
                                                No, Madam.
                                            Dainty
                                                Pray, let us see her.
                                            Speamish
                                                We will not stir, till we see her.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                
A Pox on you all—
Aside.
Goes to the door, and returns.
she has lock'd the door, and is gone abroad.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No, you have lock'd the door, and she's within.
                                            Dainty
                                                They told us below, she was here.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                
[Will nothing do?]—Well it must out then, to tell you the truth, Ladies, which I was afraid to let you know before, least it might endanger your lives, my Wife has just now the Small Pox come out upon her, do not be frighten'd;
25
but pray, be gone Ladies, you shall not stay here in danger of your lives; pray get you gone Ladies.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No, no, we have all had'em.
                                            Speamish
                                                Alack, alack.
                                            Dainty
                                                Come, come, we must see how it goes with her, I understand the disease.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Come.
                                            Pinchwife
                                                
Well, there is no being too hard for Women at their own weapon, lying, therefore I'll quit the Field.
Aside.
Exit Pinchwife.
                                            Speamish
                                                Here's an example of jealousy.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Indeed as the World goes, I wonder there are no more jealous, since Wives are so neglected.
                                            Dainty
                                                Pshaw, as the World goes, to what end shou'd they be jealous.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Foh, 'tis a nasty World.
                                            Speamish
                                                That Men of parts, great acquaintance, and quality shou'd take up with, and spend themselves and fortunes, in keeping little Play-house Creatures, foh.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Nay, that Women of understanding, great acquaintance, and good quality, shou'd fall a keeping too of little Creatures, foh.
                                            Speamish
                                                Why, 'tis the Men of qualities fault, they never visit Women of honour, and reputation, as they us'd to do; and have not so much as common civility, for Ladies of our rank, but use us with the same indifferency, and ill breeding, as if we were all marry'd to'em.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                She says true, 'tis an errant shame Women of quality shou'd be so slighted; methinks, birth, birth, shou'd go for something; I have known Men admired, courted, and followed for their titles only.
                                            Speamish
                                                Ay, one wou'd think Men of honour shou'd not love no more, than marry out their own rank.
                                            Dainty
                                                Fye, fye upon'em, they are come to think cross breeding for themselves best, as well as for their Dogs, and Horses.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                They are Dogs, and Horses for't.
                                            Speamish
                                                One wou'd think if not for love, for vanity a little.
                                            Dainty
                                                Nay, they do satisfy their vanity upon us sometimes; and are kind to us in their report, tell all the World they lye with us.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Damn'd Rascals, that we shou'd be only wrong'd by'em; to a report a Man has had a Person, when he has not had a Person, is the greatest wrong in the whole World, that can be done to a person.
                                            Speamish
                                                Well, 'tis an errant shame, Noble Persons shou'd be so wrong'd, and neglected.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                But still 'tis an erranter shame for a Noble Person, to neglect her own honour, and defame her own Noble Person, with little inconsiderable Fellows, foh!—
                                            Dainty
                                                I suppose the crime against our honour, is the same with a Man of quality as with another.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                How! no sure the Man of quality is likest one's Husband, and therefore the fault shou'd be the less.
                                            Dainty
                                                But then the pleasure shou'd be the less.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Fye, fye, fye, for shame Sister, whither shall we ramble? be continent in your discourse, or I shall hate you.
                                            Dainty
                                                Besides an intrigue is so much the more notorious for the man's quality.
                                            Speamish
                                                'Tis true, no body takes notice of a private Man, and therefore with him, 'tis more secret, and the crime's the less, when 'tis not known.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                You say true; y faith I think you are in the right on't: 'tis not an injury to a Husband, till it be an injury to our honours; so that a Woman of honour looses no honour with a private Person; and to say truth—
                                            Dainty
                                                
So the little Fellow is grown a private Person— with her—
Apart to Squeamish.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
But still my dear, dear Honour.
Enter Sir Jaspar, Horner, Dorilant.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Ay, my dear, dear of honour, thou hast still so much honour in thy mouth—
                                            Horner
                                                
That she has none elsewhere—
Aside.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Oh, what d'ye mean to bring in these upon us?
                                            Dainty
                                                Foh, these are bad as Wits,
                                            Speamish
                                                Foh!
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Let us leave the Room.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Stay, stay, faith to tell you the naked truth.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Fye, Sir
Jaspar, do not use that word naked.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Well, well, in short I have business at
Whitehal, and cannot go to the play with you, therefore wou'd have you go—
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                With those two to a Play?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
No, not with t'other, but with Mr.
Horner, there can be no more scandal to go with him, than with Mr.
Tatle, or Master
Limberham.TatleTatleMr. Tattle and Mr. Limberham were
characters in contemporary comedies on the London stage.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                With that nasty Fellow! no—no.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Nay, prethee Dear, hear me.
Whispers to Lady Fidget
                                            Horner
                                                
Ladies.
Horner, Dorilant drawing near Squeamish, and Daint.
                                            Dainty
                                                Stand off. 
                                            Speamish
                                                Do not approach us.
                                            Dainty
                                                You heard with the wits, you are obscenity all over.
                                            Speamish
                                                
And I wou'd as soon look upon a Picture of
Adam
and
Eve, without fig leaves, as any of you, if I cou'd help it, therefore keep off, and do not make us sick.
                                            Dorilant
                                                What a Divel are these?
                                            Horner
                                                Why, these are pretenders to honour, as criticks to wit, only by censuring others; and as every raw peevish, out-of-humour'd, affected, dull, Tea-drinking, Arithmetical Fop sets up for a wit, by railing at men of sence, so these for honour, by railing at the Court, and Ladies of as great honour, as quality.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Come, Mr.
Horner, I must desire you to go with these Ladies to the Play, Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                I! Sir.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Ay, ay, come, Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                I must beg your pardon, Sir, and theirs, I will not be seen in Womens Company in publick again for the World.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Ha, ha, strange Aversion!
                                            Speamish
                                                No, he's for Womens company in private.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                He—poor Man—he! hah, ha, ha.
                                            Dainty
                                                
'Tis a greater shame amongst lew'd fellows to be
28
seen in virtuous Womens company, than for the Women to be seen with them.
                                            Horner
                                                Indeed, Madam, the time was I only hated virtuous Women, but now I hate the other too; I beg your pardon Ladies.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                You are very obliging, Sir, because we wou'd not be troubled with you.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                In sober sadness he shall go.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Nay, if he wo'not, I am ready to wait upon the Ladies; and I think I am the fitter Man.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
You, Sir, no I thank you for that—Master
Horner
is a privileg'd Man amongst the virtuous Ladies, 'twill be a great while before you are so; heh, he, he, he's my Wive's Gallant, heh, he; no pray withdraw, Sir, for as I take it, the virtuous Ladies have no business with you.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
And I am sure, he can have none with them: 'tis strange a Man can't come amongst virtuous Women now, but upon the same terms, as Men are admitted into the great Turks SeraglioSeraglioSeraglioThe harem of women imagined by 
Western Europeans to be kept by the "great Turk," that is, the leader of the Ottoman Empire based in Istanbul.; but Heavens keep me, from being an hombre PlayerhombrehombreHombre was a popular card game. with'em: but where is
Pinchwife
—
Exit Dorilant.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Come, come, Man; what avoid the sweet society of Woman-kind? that sweet, soft, gentle, tame, noble Creature Woman, made for Man's Companion—
                                            Horner
                                                So is that soft, gentle, tame, and more noble creature a Spaniel, and has all their tricks, can fawn, lye down, suffer beating, and fawn the more; barks at your Friends, when they come to see you; makes your bed hard, gives you Fleas, and the mange sometimes: and all the difference is, the Spaniel's the more faithful Animal, and fawns but upon one Master.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Heh, he, he.
                                            Speamish
                                                O the rude Beast.
                                            Dainty
                                                Insolent brute.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Brutel stinking mortify'd rotter French Weather, to date—
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Hold, an't please your Ladyship; for shame Master,
29
Horner
your Mother was a Woman— [Now shall I never reconcile'em]
Aside.
Hark you, Madam, take my advice in your anger; you know you often want one to make up your droling pack of hombre Players; and you may cheat him easily, for he's an ill Gamester, and consequently loves play: Besides you know, you have but two old civil Gentlemen (with stinking breaths too) to wait upon you abroad, take in the third, into your service; the other are but crazy: and a Lady should have a horse, least sometimes you shou'd be forc'd to stay at home.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                But are you sure he loves play, and has money?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                He loves play as much as you, and has money as much as I.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Then I am contented to make him pay for his scurrillity; money makes up in a measure all other wants in Men.— Those whom we cannot make hold for Gallants, we make fine.
Aside.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
So, so; now to mollify, to wheedle him,—
Aside.
Master
Horner
will you never keep civil Company, methinks 'tis time now, since you are only fit for them: Come, come, Man you must e'en fall to visiting our Wives, eating at our Tables, drinking Tea with our virtuous Relations after dinner, dealing Cards to'em, reading. Plays, and Gazets to'em, picking Fleas out of their shocks for'em, collecting Receipts; New Songs, Women, Pages, and Footmen for'em.
                                            Horner
                                                I hope they'l afford me better employment, Sir.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Heh, he, he, 'tis fit you know your work before you come into your place; and since you are unprovided of a Lady to flatter, and a good house to eat at, pray frequent mine, and call my Wife Mistriss, and she shall call you Gallant, according to the custom.
                                            Horner
                                                Who I?—
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Faith, thou sha't for my sake, come for my sake only.
                                            Horner
                                                For your sake—
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Come, come, here's a Gamester for you, let him
30
be a little familiar sometimes; nay, what if a little rude; Gamesters may be rude with Ladies, you know.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                yes, losing Gamesters have a privilege with Women.
                                            Horner
                                                I alwayes thought the contrary, that the winning Gamester had most privilege with Women, for when you have lost your money to a Man, you'l loose any thing you have, all you have, they say, and he may use you as he pleases.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Heh, he, well, win or loose you shall have your liberty with her.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                As he behaves himself; and for your sake I'll give him admittance and freedom.
                                            Horner
                                                All sorts of freedom, Madam?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Ay, ay, ay, all sorts of freedom thou can'st take, and so go to her, begin thy new employment; wheedle her, jest with her, and be better acquainted one with another.
                                            Horner
                                                
I think I know her already, therefore may venture with her, my secret for hers—
Aside.
Horner, and Lady Fidget whisper.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Sister
Cuz, I have provided an innocent Play-fellow for you there.
                                            Dainty
                                                Who he!
                                            Speamish
                                                There's a play-fellow indeed.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Yes sure, what he is good enough to play at Cards, Blind-mans buff, or the fool with sometimes.
                                            Speamish
                                                Foh, we'l have no such Play-fellows.
                                            Dainty
                                                No, Sir, you shan't choose Play-fellows for us, we thank you.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Nay, pray hear me.
Whispering to them.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
But, poor Gentleman, cou'd you be so generous? so truly a Man of honour, as for the sakes of us Women of honour, to cause your self to be reported no Man? No Man! and to suffer your self the greatest shame that cou'd fall upon a Man, that none might fall upon us Women by your conversation; but indeed, Sir, as perfectly, the same Man as before your going into
France
, Sir; as perfectly, perfectly, Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                As perfectly, perfectly, Madam; nay, I scorn you shou'd take my word; I desire to be try'd only, Madam.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Well, that's spoken again like a Man of honour, all Men of honour desire to come to the test: But indeed, generally you Men report such things of your selves, one does not know how, or whom to believe; and it is come to that pass, we dare not take your words, no more than your Taylors, without some staid Servant of yours be bound with you; but I have so strong a faith in your honour, dear, dear, noble Sir, that I'd forfeit mine for yours at any time, dear Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                No, Madam, you shou'd not need to forfeit it for me, I have given you security already to save you harmless my late reputation being so well known in the World, Madam.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                But if upon any future falling out, or upon a suspicion of my taking the trust out of your hands, to employ some other, you your self shou'd betray your trust, dear Sir; I mean, if you'l give me leave to speak obscenely, you might tell, dear Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                I I did, no body wou'd believe me; the reputation of impotency is as hardly recover'd again in the World, as that of cowardise, dear Madam.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Nay then, as one may say, you may do your worst, dear, dear, Sir.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Come, is your Ladyship reconciled to him yet? have you agreed on matters? for I must be gone to
White-
hal.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Why, indeed, Sir
Jaspar, Master
Horner
is a thousand, thousand times a better Man, than I thought him: Cosen
Squeamish, Sister
Dainty, I can name him now, truly not long ago you know, I thought his very name obscenity, and I wou'd as soon have lain with him, as have nam'd him.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Very likely, poor Madam.
                                            Dainty
                                                I believe it.
                                            Squeamish
                                                No doubt on't.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Well, well—that your Ladyship is as virtuous as any she,—I know, and him all the Town knows—heh, he,
32
he; therefore now you like him, get you gone to your business together; go, go, to your business, I say, pleasure, whilst I go to my pleasure, business.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Come than dear Gallant.
                                            Horner
                                                Come away, my dearest Mistriss.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
So, so, why 'tis as I'd have it.
Exit Sr. Jaspar
                                            Horner
                                                And as I'd have it.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Who for his business, from his Wife will run;Takes the best care, to have her bus'ness done.
                                            Alithea
                                                Sister, what ailes you, you are grown melancholy?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Wou'd it not make any one melancholy, to see you go every day fluttering about abroad, whil'st I must stay at home like a poor lonely, sullen Bird in a cage?
                                            Alithea
                                                Ay, Sister, but you came young; and just from the nest to your cage, so that I thought you lik'd it; and cou'd be as chearful in't, as others that took their flight themselves early and are hopping abroad in the open Air.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Nay, I confess I was quiet enough, till my Husband told me, what pure lives, the
London
Ladies live abroad, with their dancing, meetings, and junketings, and drest every day in their best gowns; and I warrant you, play at nine Pins every day of the week, so they do.
Enter Mr. Pinchwife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come, what's here to do? you are putting the Town pleasures in her head, and setting her a longing.
                                            Alithea
                                                Yes, after Nine-pins; you suffer none to give her those longings, you mean, but your self.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I tell her of the vanities of the Town like a Confessor.
                                            Alithea
                                                A Confessor! just such a Confessor, as he that by forbidding a silly Oastler to grease the Horses teeth, taught him to do't.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come Mistriss
Flippant, good Precepts are lost, when bad Examples are still before us; the liberty you take abroad makes her hanker after it; and out of humour at home, poor Wretch! she desired not to come to
London, I wou'd bring her.
                                            Alithea
                                                Very well.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                She has been this week in Town, and never desired, till this afternoon, to go abroad.
                                            Alithea
                                                Was she not at a Play yesterday?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, but she ne'er ask'd me; I was my self the cause of her going.
                                            Alithea
                                                Then if she ask you again, you are the cause of her asking, and not my example.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Well, tomorrow night I shall be rid of you; and the next day before 'tis light, she and I'll be rid of the Town, and my dreadful apprehensions: Come, be not melancholly, for thou sha't go into the Country after to morrow, Dearest.
                                            Alithea
                                                Great comfort.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pish, what d'ye tell me of the Country for?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                How's this! what, pish at the Country?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Let me alone, I am not well.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                O, if that be all—what ailes my dearest?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Truly I don't know; but I have not been well, since you told me there was a Gallant at the Play in love with me.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Ha—
                                            Alithea
                                                That's by my example too.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, if you are not well, but are so concern'd, because a lew'd Fellow chanc'd to lye, and say he lik'd you, you'l make me sick too.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Of what sickness?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                O, of that which is worse than the Plague Jealousy.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pish, you jear, I'm sure there's no such disease in our Receipt-book at home.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
No, thou never met'st with it, poor Innocent— well, if thou Cuckold me, 'twill be my own fault— for Cuckolds and Bastards, are generally makers of their own fortune.
Aside.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Well, but pray Bud, let's go to a Play to night.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                'Tis just done, she comes from it; but why are you so eager to see a Play?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Faith Dear, not that I care one pin for their talk there; but I like to look upon the Player-men, and wou'd
see, if I could, the gallant you say loves me--that's all, dear bud.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Is that all dear Bud?
                                            Alithea
                                                This proceeds from my example.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                But if the Play be done, let's go abroad however, dear Bud.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come have a little patience, and thou shalt go into the Country on Friday.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Therefore I wou'd see first some sights, to tell my Neighbours of. Nay, I will go abroad, that's once.
                                            Alithea
                                                I'm the cause of this desire too.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
But now I think on't, who was the cause of
Horners
coming to my Lodging to day? that was you.
                                            Alithea
                                                No, you, because you wou'd not let him see your handsome Wife out of your Lodging.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Why, O Lord! did the Gentleman come hither to see me indeed?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
No, no;—You are not cause of that damn'd question too, Mistriss
Alithea?
—[Well she's in the right of it; he is in love with my Wife—and comes after her— 'tis so—but I'll nip his love in the bud; least he should follow us into the Country, and break his Chariot-wheel near our house, on purpose for an excuse to come to't; but I think I know the Town.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Come, pray Bud, let's go abroad before 'tis late; for I will go, that's flat and plain.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So! the obstinacy already of a Town-wife, and I must, whilst she's here, humour her like one.
Aside.
Sister, how shall we do, that she may not be seen, or known?
                                            Alithea
                                                Let her put on her Mask.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Pshaw, a Mask makes People but the more inquisitive, and is as ridiculous a disguise, as a stage-beard; her shape, stature, habit will be known: and if we shou'd meet with
Horner, he wou'd be sure to take acquaintance with us, must wish her joy, kiss her, talk to her, leer upon her, and the Devil and all; no I'll not use her to a Mask, 'tis dangerous; for Masks have made more Cuckolds, than the best faces that ever were known.
                                            Alithea
                                                How will you do then?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Nay, shall we go? the
Exchange
will be shut, and I have a mind to see that.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So—I have it—I'll dress her up in the Suit, we are to carry down to her Brother, little Sir
James; nay, I understand the Town tricks: Come let's go dress her; a Mask! no—a Woman mask'd, like a cover'd Dish, gives a Man curiosity, and appetite, when, it may be, uncover'd, 'twou'd turn his stomack; no, no.
                                            Alithea
                                                Indeed your comparison is something a greasie one: but I had a gentle Gallant, us'd to say, a Beauty mask'd, lik'd the Sun in Eclipse, gathers together more gazers, than if it shin'd out.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Engag'd to Women, and not Sup with us?
                                            Horner
                                                Ay, a Pox on'em all.
                                            Harcourt
                                                You were much a more reasonable Man in the morning, and had as noble resolution against'em, as a Widdower of a weeks liberty.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Did I ever think, to see you keep company with Women in vain.
                                            Horner
                                                In vain! no —'tis, since I can't love'em, to be reveng'd on'em.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Now your Sting is gone, you look'd in the Box amongst all those Women, like a drone in the hive, all upon you; shov'd and ill-us'd by'em all, and thrust from one side to t'other.
                                            Dar.
                                                Yet he must be buzzing amongst'em still, like other old beetle-headed, lycorish drones; avoid'em, and hate'm as they hate you.
                                            Horner
                                                Because I do hate'em, and wou'd hate'em yet more, I'll frequent'em; you may see by Marriage, nothing makes a Man hate a Woman more, than her constant conversation: In short, I converse with'em, as you do with rich Fools, to laugh at'em, and use'em ill.
                                            Dorilant
                                                But I wou'd no more Sup with Women, unless I cou'd lye with'em, than Sup with a rich Coxcomb, unless I cou'd cheat him.
                                            Horner
                                                Yes, I have known thee Sup with a Fool, for his drinking, if he cou'd set out your hand that way only, you were satisfy'd; and if he were a Wine-swallowing mouth 'twas enough.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Yes, a Man drink's often with a Fool, as he tosses with a Marker, only to keep his hand in UreUreUre"Hand in the business."; but do the Ladies drink?
                                            Horner
                                                Yes, Sir, and I shall have the pleasure at least of laying'em flat with a Bottle; and bring as much scandal that way upon'em, as formerly t'other.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Perhaps you may prove as weak a Brother amongst'em that way, as t'other.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Foh, drinking with Women, is as unnatural, as scolding with'em; but 'tis a pleasure of decay'd Fornicators, and the basest way of quenching Love.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Nay, 'tis drowning Love, instead of quenching it; but leave us for civil Women too!
                                            Dorilant
                                                Ay, when he can't be the better for'em; we hardly pardon a Man, that leaves his Friend for a Wench, and that's a pretty lawful call.
                                            Horner
                                                Faith, I wou'd not leave you for'em, if they wou'd not drink.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
Who wou'd disappoint his Company at
Lewis's, for a Gossiping?
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Foh, Wine and Women good apart, together as nauseous as Sack and Sugar: But hark you, Sir, before you go, a little of your advice, an old maim'd General, when unfit for actions is fittest for Counsel; I have other designs upon Women, than eating and drinking with them: I am in
37
love with
Sparkish's Mistriss, whom he is to marry to morrow, now how shall I get her?
Enter Sparkish, looking about.
                                            Horner
                                                Why, here comes one will help you to her.
                                            Harcourt
                                                He! he, I tell you, is my Rival, and will hinder my love.
                                            Horner
                                                No, a foolish Rival, and a jealous Husband assist their Rivals designs; for they are sure to make their Women hate them, which is the first step to their love, for another Man.
                                            Harcourt
                                                But I cannot come near his Mistriss, but in his company.
                                            Horner
                                                Still the better for you, for Fools are most easily cheated, when they themselves are accessaries; and he is to be bubled of his Mistriss, as of his Money, the common Mistriss, by keeping him company.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Who is that, that is to be bubled? Faith let me snack, I han't met with a buble since Christmas: gad; I think bubles are like their Brother Woodcocks, go out with the cold weather.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
A Pox, he did not hear all I hope.
Apart to Horner.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Come, you bubling Rogues you, where do we sup —Oh,
Harcourt, my Mistriss tells me, you have been making fierce love to her all the Play long, hah, ha — but I —
                                            Harcourt
                                                I make love to her?
                                            Sparkish
                                                Nay, I forgive thee; for I think I know thee, and I know her, but I am sure I know my self.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Did she tell you so? I see all Women are like these of the
Exchange, who to enhance the price of their commodities, report to their fond Customers offers which were never made'em.
                                            Horner
                                                
Ay, Women are as apt to tell before the intrigue, as Men after it, and so shew themselves the vainer Sex; but hast thou a Mistriss,
Sparkish? 'tis as hard for me to believe it, as that thou ever hadst a buble, as you brag'd just now.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
O your Servant, Sir; are you at your raillery, Sir? but we were some of us beforehand with you to day at the
38
Play: the Wits were something bold with you, Sir; did you not hear us laugh?
                                            Harcourt
                                                Yes, But I thought you had gone to Plays, to laugh at the Poets wit, not at your own.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Your Servant, Sir, no thank you; gad I go to a Play as to a Country-treat, I carry my own wine to one, and my own wit to t'other, or else I'm sure I shou'd not be merry at either; and the reason why we are so often lowder, than the players, is, because we think we speak more wit, and so become the Poets Rivals in his audience: for to tell you the truth, we hate the silly Rogues; nay, so much that we find fault even with their Bawdy upon the Stage, whilst we talk nothing else in the Pit as lowd.
                                            Horner
                                                But, why should'st thou hate the silly Poets, thou hast too much wit to be one, and they like Whores are only hated by each other; and thou dost scorn writing, I'am sure.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Yes, I'd have you to know, I scorn writing; but Women, Women, that make Men do all foolish things, make'em write Songs too; every body does it: 'tis ev'n as common with Lovers, as playing with fans; and you can no more help Rhyming to your
Phyllis, than drinking to your
Phyllis.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Nay, Poetry in love is no more to be avoided, than jealousy.
                                            Dorilant
                                                But the Poets damn'd your Songs, did they?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
    Damn the Poets, they turn'd'em into BurlesqueBurlesqueBurlesqueOf the nature of derisive imitation; ironically bombastic, mock-heroic or mock-pathetic; now chiefly said of literary or oratorical compositions and dramatic representations." Oxford English Dictionary. Sparkish is 
    basically saying that the playwrights have taken songs that he wrote sincerely and made them ridiculous, in his mind ruining them., as they call it; that Burlesque is a
Hocus-Pocus-trick, they have got, which by the virtue of
Hictius doctius, topsey turveyHocus-PocusHocus-PocusSparkish is saying that the playwrights have so completely changed
    his words that they made his "wise and witty" songs seem foolish, in effect turning them upside down like a magician would in a magic trick..
, they make a wise and witty Man in the World, a Fool upon the Stage you know not how; and 'tis therefore I hate'em too, for I know not but it may be my own case; for they'l put a Man into a Play for looking a Squint: Their Predecessors were contented to make Serving-men only their Stage-Fools, but these Rogues must have Gentlemen, with a Pox to'em, nay Knights: and indeed you shall hardly see a Fool upon the Stage, but he's a Knight; and to tell you the truth, they have kept me these six years from being a Knight in earnest, for fear of being knighted in a Play, and dubb'd a Fool.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Blame'em not, they must follow their Copy, the Age.
                                            Harcourt
                                                But why should'st thou be afraid of being in a Play, who expose your self every day in the Play-houses, and as publick Places.
                                            Horner
                                                'Tis but being on the Stage, instead of standing on a Bench in the Pit.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Don't you give money to Painters to draw you like? and are you afraid of your Pictures, at length in a Play-house, where all your Mistresses may see you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                A Pox, Painters don't draw the Small Pox, or Pimples in ones face; come damn all your silly Authors whatever, all Books and Booksellers, by the World, and all Readers, courteous or uncourteous.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
But, who comes here,
Sparkish?
Enter Mr. Pinchwife, and his Wife in Mans Cloaths,
Alithea, Lucy her Maid.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Oh hide me, there's my Mistriss too.
Sparkish hides himself behind Harcourt.
                                            Harcourt
                                                She sees you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
But I will not see her, 'tis time to go to
Whitehal, and I must not fail the drawing Room.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Pray, first carry me, and reconcile me to her.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Another time, faith the King will have sup't.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Not with the worse stomach for thy absence; thou art one of those Fools, that think their attendance at the King's Meals, as necessary as his Physicians, when you are more troublesom to him, than his Doctors, or his Dogs.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Pshaw, I know my interest, Sir, prethee hide me.
                                            Horner
                                                
Your Servant,
Pinchwife, —what he knows us not —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come along.
To his Wife aside.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray, have you any Ballads, give me six-penny worth?
                                            Claspa.
                                                We have no Ballads.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Then give me
Covent-garden-Drollery, and a Play or two —Oh here's
Tarugos Wiles, and the Slighted Maiden, I'll have them.DrolleryDrolleryMargery
    is buying a number of works of popular entainment from this ballad-seller's stall. The Covent Garden Drollery was a 
    collection of popular songs; Tarugo's Wiles and The Slighted Maiden were both recent comedies.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
No, Playes are not for your reading; come along, will you discover your self?
Apart to her.
                                            Horner
                                                
Who is that pretty Youth with him,
Sparkish?
                                            Sparkish
                                                I believe his Wife's Brother, because he's something like her, but I never saw her but once.
                                            Horner
                                                
Extreamly handsom, I have seen a face like it too; let us follow'em.
Exeunt Pinchwife, Mistriss Pinchwife.
Alithea, Lucy, Horner, Dorilant following them.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Come,
Sparkish, your Mistriss saw you, and will be angry you go not to her; besides I wou'd fain be reconcil'd to her, which none but you can do, dear Friend.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Well that's a better reason, dear Friend; I wou'd not go near her now, for her's, or my own sake, but I can deny you nothing; for though I have known thee a great while, never go, if I do not love thee, as well as a new Acquaintance.
                                            Harcourt
                                                I am oblig'd to you indeed, dear Friend, I wou'd be well with her only, to be well with thee still; for these tyes to Wives usually dissolve all tyes to Friends: I wou'd be contented, she shou'd enjoy you a nights, but I wou'd have you to my self a dayes, as I have had, dear Friend.
                                            Sparkish
                                                And thou shalt enjoy me a dayes, dear, dear Friend, never stir; and I'll be divorced from her, sooner than from thee; come along —
                                            Harcourt
                                                
So we are hard put to't, when we make our Rival our Procurer; but neither she, nor her Brother, wou'd let me come near her now: when all's done, a Rival is the best cloak to steal to a Mistress under, without suspicion; and when we have once got to her as we desire, we throw him off like other Cloaks.
Aside.
Exit Sparkish, and Harcourt following him.
Re-enter Mr. Pinchwife, Mistress Pinchwife in Man's Cloaths.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Sister, if you will not go, we must leave you —
To Alithea.
The Fool her Gallant, and she, will muster up all the young
41
santerers of this place, and they will leave their dear Seamstresses to follow us; what a swarm of Cuckolds, and Cuckold-makers are here?
Aside.
Come let's be gone Mistriss
Margery.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Don't you believe that, I han't half my belly full of sights yet.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Then walk this way.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Lord, what a power of brave signs are heresignssignsSigns outside of shops, sort of like
logos for the businesses in the New Exchange.! stay —the Bull's-head, the Rams-head, and the Stags-head, Dear —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, if every Husbands proper sign here were visible, they wou'd be all alike.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                What d'ye mean by that, Bud?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                'Tis no matter —no matter, Bud.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray tell me; nay, I will know.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
They wou'd be all Bulls, Stags, and Rams heads.
Exeunt Mr. Pinchwife, Mrs. Pinchwife.
Re-enter Sparkish, Harcourt, Alithea, Lucy, at t'other door.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Come dear Madam, for my sake you shall be reconciled to him.
                                            Alithea
                                                For your sake I hate him.
                                            Harcourt
                                                That's something too cruel, Madam, to hate me for his sake.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ay indeed, Madam, too, too cruel to me, to hate my Friend for my sake.
                                            Alithea
                                                I hate him because he is your Enemy; and you ought to hate him too, for making love to me, if you love me.
                                            Sparkish
                                                That's a good one, I hate a Man for loving you; if he did love you, 'tis but what he can't help, and 'tis your fault not his, if he admires you: I hate a Man for being of my opinion, I'll ne'er do't, by the World.
                                            Alithea
                                                Is it for your honour or mine, to suffer a Man to make love to me, who am to marry you tomorrow?
                                            Sparkish
                                                Is it for your honour or mine, to have me jealous? That he makes love to you, is a sign you are handsome; and that I am not jealous, is a sign you are virtuous, that I think is for your honour.
                                            Alithea
                                                But 'tis your honour too, I am concerned for.
                                            Harcourt
                                                But why, dearest Madam, will you be more concern'd for his honour, than he is himself; let his honour alone for my sake, and his, he, he, has no honour —
                                            Sparkish
                                                How's that?
                                            Harcourt
                                                But what, my dear Friend can guard himself.
                                            Sparkish
                                                O ho —that's right again.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Your care of his honour argues his neglect of it, which is no honour to my dear Friend here; therefore once more, let his honour go which way it will, dear Madam.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ay, ay, were it for my honour to marry a Woman, whose virtue I suspected, and cou'd not trust her in a Friends hands?
                                            Alithea
                                                Are you not afraid to loose me?
                                            Harcourt
                                                He afraid to loose you, Madam! No, no —you may see how the most estimable, and most glorious Creature in the World, is valued by him; will you not see it?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Right, honest
Franck, I have that noble value for her, that I cannot be jealous of her.
                                            Alithea
                                                You mistake him, he means you care not for me, nor who has me.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Lord, Madam, I see you are jealous; will you wrest a poor Mans meaning from his words?
                                            Alithea
                                                You astonish me, Sir, with your want of jealousie.
                                            Sparkish
                                                And you make me giddy, Madam, with your jealousie, and fears, and virtue, and honour; gad, I see virtue makes a Woman as troublesome, as a little reading, or learning.
                                            Alithea
                                                Monstrous!
                                            Lucy.
                                                
[Well to see what easie Husbands these Women of quality can meet with, a poor Chamber-maid can never have such Lady-like luck; besides he's thrown away upon her, she'l make no use of her fortune, her blessing, none to a Gentleman, for a pure Cuckold, for it requires good breeding to be a Cuckold.
Behind.
                                            Alithea
                                                I tell you then plainly, he pursues me to marry me.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Pshaw —
                                            Harcourt
                                                Come, Madam, you see you strive in vain to make him jealous of me; my dear friend is the kindest Creature in the World to me.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Poor fellow.
                                            Harcourt
                                                But his kindness only is not enough for me, without your favour; your good opinion, dear Madam, 'tis that must perfect my happiness: good Gentleman he believes all I say, wou'd you wou'd do so, jealous of me! I wou'd not wrong him nor you for the World.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Look you there; hear him, hear him, and do not walk away so.
Alithea walks carelessly to and fro.
                                            Harcourt
                                                I love you, Madam, so —
                                            Sparkish
                                                How's that! Nay —now you begin to go too far indeed.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
So much I confess, I say I love you, that I wou'd not have you miserable, and cast your self away upon so unworhty, and inconsiderable a thing, as what you see here.
Clapping his hand on his breast, points at Sparkish.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No faith, I believe thou woud'st not, now his meaning is plain: but I knew before thou woud'st not wrong me nor her.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
No, no, Heavens forbid, the glory of her Sex shou'd fall so low as into the embraces of such a contemptible Wretch, the last of Mankind —my dear Friend here — I injure him.
Embracing Sparkish.
                                            Alithea
                                                Very well.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No, no, dear Friend, I knew it Madam, you see he will rather wrong himself that me, in giving himself such names.
                                            Alithea
                                                Do not you understand him yet?
                                            Sparkish
                                                Yes, how modestly he speaks of himself, poor Fellow.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Methinks he speaks impudently of your self, since— before your self too, insomuch that I can no longer suffer his scurrilous abusiveness to you, no more than his love to me.
Offers to go.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Nay, nay, Madam, pray stay, his love to you: Lord, Madam, has he not spoke yet plain enough?
                                            Alithea
                                                Yes indeed, I shou'd think so.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Well then, by the World, a Man can't speak civilly to a Woman now, but presently she says, he makes love to her: Nay, Madam, you shall stay, with your pardon, since you have not yet understood him, till he has made an eclaircissment of his love to you, that is what kind of love it is; answer to thy Catechisme: Friend, do you love my Mistriss here?
                                            Harcourt
                                                Yes, I wish she wou'd not doubt it.
                                            Sparkish
                                                But how do you love her?
                                            Harcourt
                                                With all my Soul.
                                            Alithea
                                                I thank him, methinks he speaks plain enough now.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
You are out still.
to Alithea.
But with what kind of love,
Harcourt?
                                            Harcourt
                                                With the best, and truest love in the World.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Look you there then, that is with no matrimonial love, I'm sure.
                                            Alithea
                                                How's that, do you say matrimonial love is not best?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Gad, I went too far e're I was aware: But speak for thy self
Harcourt, you said you wou'd not wrong me, not her.
                                            Harcourt
                                                No, no, Madam, e'n take him for Heaven's sake.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Look you there, Madam.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Who shou'd in all justice be yours, he that loves you most.
Claps his hand on his breast.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Look you there, Mr.
Sparkish, who's that?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Who shou'd it be? go on
Harcourt.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Who loves you more than Women, Titles, or fortune Fools.
Points at Sparkish.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Look you there, he means me still, for he points at me.
                                            Alithea
                                                Ridiculous!
                                            Harcourt
                                                Who can only match your Faith, and constancy in love.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ay.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Who knows, if it be possible, how to value so much beauty and virtue.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ay.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Whose love can no more be equall'd in the world, than that Heavenly form of yours.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No —
                                            Harcourt
                                                Who cou'd no more suffer a Rival, than your absence, and yet cou'd no more suspect your virtue, than his own constancy in his love to you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No —
                                            Harcourt
                                                Who in fine loves you better than his eyes, that first made him love you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ay —nay, Madam, faith you shan't go, till —
                                            Alithea
                                                Have a care, left you make me stay too long —
                                            Sparkish
                                                
But till he has saluted you; that I may be assur'd you are friends, after his honest advice and declaration: Come pray, Madam, be friends with him.
Enter Master Pinchwife, Mistriss Pinchwife.
                                            Alithea
                                                You must pardon me, Sir, that I am not yet so obedient to you.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What, invite your Wife to kiss Men? Monstrous, are you not asham'd? I will never forgive you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Are you not asham'd, that I shou'd have more confidence in the chastity of your Family, than you have; you must not teach me, I am a man of honour, Sir, though I am frank and free; I am frank, Sir —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Very frank, Sir, to share your Wife with your friends.
                                            Sparkish
                                                He is an humble menial Friend, such as reconciles the differences of the Marriage bed; you know Man and Wife do not alwayes agree, I design him for that use, therefore wou'd have him well with my Wife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                A menial Friend —you will get a great many menial Friends, by shewing your Wife as you do.
                                            Sparkish
                                                What then, it may be I have a pleasure in't, as I have to shew fine Clothes, at a Play-house the first day, and count money before poor Rogues.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                He that shews his wife, or money will be in danger of having them borrowed sometimes.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
I love to be envy'd, and wou'd not marry a Wife, that I alone cou'd love; loving alone is a dull, as eating alone; is it not a frank age, and I am a frank Person? and to tell you the truth, it may be I love to have Rivals in a Wife, they make her seem to a Man still, but as a kept Mistriss; and so good night, for I must to
Whitehal.
Madam, I hope you are now reconcil'd to my Friend; and so I wish you a good night, Madam, and sleep if you can, for tomorrow you know I must visit you early with a Canonical GentlemanCanonicalCanonicalA priest.. Good night dear
Harcourt.
Exit Sparkish.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Madam, I hope you will not refuse my visit to morrow, if it shou'd be earlyer, with a Canonical Gentleman, than Mr.
Sparkish's.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
This Gentle-woman is yet under my care, therefore you must yet forbear your freedom with her, Sir.
Coming between Alithea and Harcourt.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Must, Sir.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, Sir, she is my Sister.
                                            Harcourt
                                                'Tis well she is, Sir —for I must be her Servant, Sir. Madam —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
    Come away Sister, we had been gone, if it had not been for you, and so avoided these lewd RakehellsRakehell"An immoral or dissolute person; a scoundrel; a rake." (Oxford English Dictionary). The image evoked is a demon using a rake
        to keep the fires of hell burning.
    , who seem to haunt us.
Enter Horner, Dorilant to them.
                                            Horner
                                                
How now
Pinchwife?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Your Servant.
                                            Horner
                                                What, I see a little time in the Country makes a Man turn wild and unsociable, and only fit to converse with his Horses, Dogs, and his Herds.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I have business, Sir, and must mind it; your business is pleasure, therefore you and I must go different wayes.
                                            Horner
                                                Well, you may go on, but this pretty young Gentleman —
                                            Harcourt
                                                The Lady —
                                            Dorilant
                                                And the Maid —
                                            Horner
                                                Shall stay with us, for I suppose their business is the same with ours, pleasure.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
'Sdeath he knows her, she carries it so sillily, yet if he does not, I shou'd be more silly to discover it first.
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                Pray, let us go, Sir.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come, come —
                                            Horner
                                                
Had you not rather stay with us?
to Mrs. Pinchwife.
Prethee
Pinchwife, who is this pretty young Gentleman?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
One to whom I'm a guardian. [I wish I cou'd keep her out of your hands —
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                Who is he? I never saw any thing so pretty in all my life.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Pshaw, do not look upon him so much, he's a poor bashful youth, you'l put him out of countenance. Come away Brother.
Offers to take her away.
                                            Horner
                                                O your Brother!
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, my Wifes Brother; come, come, she'l stay supper for us.
                                            Horner
                                                I thought so, for he is very like her I saw you at the Play with, whom I told you, I was in love with.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
O Jeminy! is this he that was in love with me, I am glad on't I vow, for he's a curious fine Gentleman, and I love him already too.
Aside.
Is this he Bud?
to Mr. Pinchwife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come away, come away.
To his Wife.
                                            Horner
                                                Why, what hast are you in? why wont you let me talk with him?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Because you'l debauch him, he's yet young and innocent, and I wou'd not have him debauch'd for any thing in the World. How she gazes on him! the Divel —
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                
Harcourt, Dorilant, look you here, this is the likeness of that Dowdey he told us of, his Wife, did you ever see a lovelyer Creature? the Rogue has reason to be jealous of his Wife, since she is like him, for she wou'd make all that see her, in love with her.
                                            Harcourt
                                                And as I remember now, she is as like him here as can be.
                                            Dorilant
                                                She is indeed very pretty, if she be like him.
                                            Horner
                                                Very pretty, a very pretty commendation —she is a glorious Creature, beautiful beyond all things I ever beheld.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                So, so
                                            Harcourt
                                                More beautiful than a Poets first Mistriss of Imagination.
                                            Horner
                                                Or another Mans last Mistriss of flesh and blood.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, now you jeer, Sir; pray don't jeer me —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come, come. By Heavens she'l discover herself.
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                I speak of your Sister, Sir.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Ay, but saying she was handsom, if like him, made him blush. [I am upon a wrack —
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                Methinks he is so handsom, he shou'd not be a Man.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
O there 'tis out, he has discovered her, I am not able to suffer any longer. [Come, come away, I say —
To his Wife.
                                            Horner
                                                
Nay, by your leave, Sir, he shall not go yet —
Harcourt, Dorilant, let us torment this jealous Rogue a little.
To them.
                                            Harcourt
                                                How?
                                            Dorilant
                                                
                                            Horner
                                                I'll shew you.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come, pray let him go, I cannot stay fooling any longer; I tell you his Sister stays supper for us.
                                            Horner
                                                Do's she, come then we'l all go sup with her and thee.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
No, now I think on't, having staid so long for us, I warrant she's gone to bed — [I wish she and I were well out of their hands —
Aside.
Come, I must rise early to morrow, come.
                                            Horner
                                                Well then, if she be gone to bed, I wish her and you a good night. But pray, young Gentleman, present my humble service to her.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Thank you heartily, Sir.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
S'death, she will discover her self yet in spight of me.
Aside.
49
He is something more civil to you, for your kindness to his Sister, than I am, it seems.
                                            Horner
                                                Tell her, dear sweet little Gentleman, for all your Brother there, that you have reviv'd the love, I had for her at first sight in the Play-house.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                But did you love her indeed, and indeed?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So, so.
Aside.
Away, I say.
                                            Horner
                                                
Nay stay; yes indeed, and indeed, pray do you tell her so, and give her this kiss from me.
Kisses her.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
O Heavens! what do I suffer; now 'tis too plain he knows her, and yet —
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                
And this, and this —
Kisses her again.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                What do you kiss me for, I am no Woman.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So —there 'tis out.
Aside.
Come, I cannot, nor will stay any longer.
                                            Horner
                                                
Nay, they shall send your Lady a kiss too; here
Harcourt, Dorilant, will you not?
They kiss her.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
How, do I suffer this? was I not accusing another just now, for this rascally patience, in permitting his Wife to be kiss'd before his face? ten thousand ulcers gnaw away their lips.
Aside.
Come, come.
                                            Horner
                                                
Good night dear Gentleman; Madam goodnight; farewel
Pinchwife.
Apart to Harcourt and Dorilant.
Did not I tell you, I wou'd raise his jealous gall.
Exeunt Horner, Harcourt, and Dorilant.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So they are gone at last; stay, let me see first if the Coach be at this door.
Exit.
                                            Horner
                                                
What not gone yet? will you be sure to do as I desired you, sweet Sir?
Horner, Harcourt, Dorilant return.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Sweet Sir, but what will you give me then?
                                            Horner
                                                
Any thing, come away into
Exit Horner, haling away Mrs. Pinchwife.
                                            Alithea
                                                Hold, hold, —what d'ye do?
                                            Lucy.
                                                Stay, stay, hold —
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Hold Madam, hold, let him present him, he'l come presently; nay, I will never let you go, till you answer my question.
Alithea, Lucy strugling with Harcourt, and Dorilant.
                                            Lucy.
                                                For God's sake, Sir, I must follow'em.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
No, I have something to present you with too, you shan't follow them.
Pinchwife returns.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Where? —how?—what's become of? gone— whither?
                                            Lucy.
                                                He's only gone with the Gentleman, who will give him something, an't please your Worship.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Something —give him something, with a Pox— where are they?
                                            Alithea
                                                In the next walk only, Brother.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Only, only; where, where?
Exit Pinchwife, and returns presently, then goes out again.
                                            Harcourt
                                                What's the matter with him? why so much concern'd? but dearest Madam —
                                            Alithea
                                                Pray, let me go, Sir, I have said, and suffer'd enough already.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Then you will not look upon, nor pitty my sufferings.
                                            Alithea
                                                To look upon'em, when I cannot help'em, were cruelty, not pitty, therefore I will never see you more.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Let me then, Madam, have my priviledge of a banished Lover, complaining or railing, and giving you but a farewell reason; why, if you cannot condescend to marry me, you shou'd not take that wretch my Rival.
                                            Alithea
                                                He only, not you, since my honour is engag'd so far to him, can give me a reason, why shou'd not marry him; but if he be true, and what I think him to me, I must be so to him; your Servant, Sir.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Have Women only constancy when 'tis a vice, and like fortune only true to fools?
                                            Dorilant
                                                
Thou sha't not stir thou robust Creature, you see I can deal with you, therefore you shou'd stay the rather,
51
and be kind.
To Lucy, who struggles to get from him.
Enter Pinchwife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Gone, gone, not to be found; quite gone, ten thousand plagues go with'em; which way went they?
                                            Alithea
                                                But into t'other walk, Brother.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Their business will be done presently sure, an't please your Worship, it can't be long in doing I'm sure on't.
                                            Alithea
                                                Are they not there?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                No, you know where they are, you infamous Wretch, Eternal shame of your Family, which you do not dishonour enough your self, you think, but you must help her to do it too, thou legion of Bawds.
                                            Alithea
                                                Good Brother.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Damn'd, damn'd Sister.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Look you here, she's coming.
Enter Mistriss Pinchwife in Mans cloaths, running with her hat under her arm, full of Oranges and dried fruit, Horner following.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                O dear Bud, look you here what I have got, see.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
And what I have got here too,
Aside rubbing his forehead.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                The fine Gentleman has given me better things yet.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Ha's he so?
Aside.
Out of breath and colour'd—I must hold yet.
                                            Horner
                                                I have only given your little Brother an Orange, Sir.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Thank you, Sir.
To Horner.
You have only squeez'd my Orange, I suppose, and given it me again; yet I must have a City-patience.
Aside.
Come, come away —
To his Wife.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Stay, till I have put up my fine things, Bud.
Enter Sir Jaspar Fidget.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                O Master Horner, come, come, the Ladies stay for you; your Mistriss, my Wife, wonders you make not more hast to her.
                                            Horner
                                                I have staid this half hour for you here, and 'tis your fault I am not now with your Wife.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                But pray, don't let her know so much, the truth on't is, I was advancing a certain Project to his Majesty, about —I'll tell you.
                                            Horner
                                                
No, let's go, and hear it at your house: Good night sweet little Gentleman; one kiss more, you'l remember me now I hope.
Kisses her.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
What, Sir
Jaspar, will you separate Friends? he promis'd to sup with us; and if yo take him to your house, you'l be in danger of our company too.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Alas Gentlemen my house is not fit for you; there are are none but civil Women there, which are not for your turn; he you know can bear with the society of civil Women, now, ha, ha, ha; besides he's one of my Family; —he's— heh, heh, heh.
                                            Dorilant
                                                What is he?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Faith my Eunuch, since you'l have it, heh, he, he.
Exit Sir Jaspar Fidget, and Horner.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
I rather wish thou wert his, or my Cuckold:
Harcourt, what a good Cuckold is lost there, for want of a Man to make him one; thee and I cannot have
Horner's
privilege, who can make use of it.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Ay, to poor
Horner
'tis like coming to an estate at threescore, when a Man can't be the better for't.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Presently Bud.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
Come let us go too: Madam, your Servant.
To Alithea
Good night Strapper. —
To Lucy.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Madam, though you will not let me have a good day, or night, I wish you one; but dare not name the other half of my wish.
                                            Alithea
                                                Good night, Sir, for ever.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                I don't know where to put this here, dear Bud, you shall eat it; nay, you shall have part of the fine Gentlemans good things, or treat as you call it, when we come home.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Indeed I deserve it, since I furnish'd the best part of it.
Strikes away the Orange.
53
The Gallant treates, presents, and gives the Ball;But 'tis the absent Cuckold, pays for all
                                            Lucy.
                                                
Well —Madam, now have I dress'd you, and set you out with so many ornaments, and spent upon you ounces of essence, and pulvilioessenceessenceperfume and scented face-powder; and all this for no other purpose, but as People adorn, and perfume a Corps, for a stinking second-hand-grave, such or as bad I think Master
Sparkish's
bed.
                                            Alithea
                                                Hold your peace.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
Nay, Madam, I will ask you the reason, why you wou'd banish poor Master
Harcourt
for ever from your sight? how cou'd you be so hard-hearted?
                                            Alithea
                                                'Twas because I was not hard-hearted.
                                            Lucy.
                                                No, no; 'twas stark love and kindness, I warrant.
                                            Alithea
                                                It was so; I wou'd see him no more, because I love him.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Hey day, a very pretty reason.
                                            Alithea
                                                You do not understand me.
                                            Lucy.
                                                I wish you may your self.
                                            Alithea
                                                I was engag'd to marry, you see, another man, whom my justice will not suffer me to deceive, or injure.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Can there be a greater cheat, or wrong done to a Man, than to give him your person, without your heart, I shou'd make a conscience of it.
                                            Alithea
                                                I'll retrieve it for him after I am married a while.
                                            Lucy.
                                                The Woman that marries to love better, will be as much mistaken, as the Wencher that marries to live better. No, Madam, marrying to encrease love, is like gaming to become rich; alas you only loose, what little stock you had before.
                                            Alithea
                                                I find by your Rhetorick you have been brib'd to betray me.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Only by his merit, that has brib'd your heart you see against your word, and rigid honour; but what a Divel is this honour? 'tis sure a disease in the head, like the Megrim, or Falling-sicknessMegrimMegrimmegrim=migraine headache; falling-sickness=seizure, that alwayes hurries People away to do themselves mischief; Men loose their lives by it: Women what's dearer to'em, their love, the life of life.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Come, pray talk you no more of honour, nor Master
Harcourt, I wish I may never stick pin more, if he be not an errant Natural, to t'other fine Gentleman.
                                            Alithea
                                                
I own he wants the wit of
Harcourt, which I will dispense withal, for another want he has, which is want of jealousie, which men of wit seldom want.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Lord, Madam, what shou'd you do with a fool to your Husband, you intend to be honest don't you? then that husbandly virtue, credulity, is thrown away upon you.
                                            Alithea
                                                
He only that could suspect my virtue, shou'd have cause to do it; 'tis
Sparkish's confidence in my truth, that obliges me to be so faithful to him.
                                            Lucy.
                                                You are not sure his opinion may last.
                                            Alithea
                                                I am satisfied, 'tis impossible for him to be jealous, after the proofs I have had of him: Jealousie in a Husband, Heaven defend me from it, it begets a thousand plagues to a poor Woman, the loss of her honour, her quiet, and her —
                                            Lucy.
                                                And her pleasure.
                                            Alithea
                                                What d'ye mean, Impertinent?
                                            Lucy.
                                                Liberty is a great pleasure, Madam.
                                            Alithea
                                                I say loss of honour, her quiet, nay, her life sometimes; and what's as bad almost, the loss of this Town, that is, she is sent into the Country, which is the last ill usage of a Husband to a Wife, I think.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
O do's the wind lye there?
Aside.
Then of necessity, Madam, you think a man must carry his Wife into the Country, if he be wise; the Country is as terrible I find to our young English Ladies, as a Monastery to those abroad: and on my Virginity, I think they wou'd rather marry a
London
-Goaler, than a high Sheriff of a County, since neither can stir from his employment: formerly Women of wit married Fools, for a great Estate, a fine seat, or the like; but now 'tis for a pretty seat only in
Lincoln's Inn-fields, St.
James's-fields, or the
Pall-mall.Pall-mallPall-mallFashionable neighborhoods in London. A "seat" would be house, so she is describing a family with a "fine seat" in the country and a nice town-house in a good neighborhood in London.
Enter to them Sparkish, and Harcourt dress'd like a Parson.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Madam, your humble Servant, a happy day to you, and to us all.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Amen. —
                                            Alithea
                                                Who have we here?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
My Chaplain faith —O Madam, poor
Harcourt
remembers his humble service to you; and in obedience to your last commands, refrains coming into your sight.
                                            Alithea
                                                Is not that he?
                                            Sparkish
                                                No, fye no; but to shew that he ne're intended to hinder our Match has sent his Brother here to joyn our hands: when I get me a Wife, I must get her a Chaplain, according to the Custom; this is his Brother, and my Chaplain.
                                            Alithea
                                                His Brother?
                                            Lucy.
                                                
And your Chaplain, to preach in your Pulpit then—
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                His Brother!
                                            Lucy.
                                                
And your Chaplain, to preach in your Pulpit then—
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                His Brother!
                                            Lucy.
                                                And your Chaplain, to preach in your Pulpit then—
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Nay, I knew you wou'd not believe it; I told you, Sir, she wou'd take you for your Brother
Frank.
                                            Alithea
                                                Believe it!
                                            Lucy.
                                                His Brother! hah, ha, he, he has a trick left still it seems —
                                            Sparkish
                                                Come my dearest, pray let us go to Church before the Canonical hourhourhourMarriages could only take place in the 
Church of England between 8 am and 3 pm, a period that was known as the "Canonical hour."is past.
                                            Alithea
                                                For shame you are abus'd still.
                                            Sparkish
                                                By the World 'tis strange now you are so incredulous.
                                            Alithea
                                                'Tis strange you are so credulous.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Dearest of my life, hear me, I tell you this is
Ned
Harcourt
of
Cambridge, by the world, you see he has a sneaking College look; 'tis true he's something like his Brother
Frank, and they differ from each other no more than in their age, for they were Twins.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Hah, ha, he.
                                            Alithea
                                                Your Servant, Sir, I cannot be so deceiv'd, though you are; but come let's hear, how do you know what you affirm so confidently?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Why, I'll tell you all;
Frank Harcourt
coming to me this morning, to wish me joy and present his service to you: I ask'd him, if he cou'd help me to a Parson; whereupon he told me, he had a Brother in Town who was in Orders, and he went straight away, and sent him, you see there, to me.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Yes,
Frank
goes, and puts on a black-coat, then tell's you, he is
Ned, that's all you have for't.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Pshaw, pshaw, I tell you by the same token, the Midwife put her Garter about
Frank's neck, to know'em asunder, they were so like.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Frank
tell's you this too.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Ay, and
Ned
there too; nay, they are both in a Story.
                                            Alithea
                                                So, so, very foolish.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Lord, if you won't believe one, you had best trye him by your Chamber-maid there; for Chamber-maids must needs know Chaplains from other Men, they are so us'd to'em.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Let's see; nay, I'll be sworn he has the Canonical smirk, and the filthy, clammy palm of a Chaplain.
                                            Alithea
                                                Well, most reverend Doctor, pray let us make an end of this fooling.
                                            Harcourt
                                                With all my soul, Divine, Heavenly Creature, when you please.
                                            Alithea
                                                He speaks like a Chaplain indeed.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Why, was there not, soul, Divine, Heavenly, in what he said.
                                            Alithea
                                                Once more, most impertinent Black-coat, cease your persecution, and let us have a Conclusion of this ridiculous love.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
I had forgot, I must sute my Stile to my Coat, or I wear it in vain.
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                I have no more patience left, let us make once an end of this troublesome Love, I say.
                                            Harcourt
                                                So be it, Seraphick LadySeraphickSeraphickAngelic lady; the in Christian mythology, the 
Seraphim are one of the orders of the angels., when your Honour shall think it meet, and convenient so to do.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Gad I'm sure none but a Chaplain cou'd speak so, I think.
                                            Alithea
                                                Let me tell you Sir, this dull trick will not serve your turn, though you delay our marriage, you shall not hinder it.
                                            Harcourt
                                                Far be it from me, Munificent Patroness, to delay your Marriage, I desire nothing more than to marry you presently, which I might do, if you your self wou'd; for my Noble, Good-natur'd and thrice Generous Patron here wou'd not hinder it.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No, poor man, not I faith.
                                            Harcourt
                                                And now, Madam, let me tell you plainly, no body else shall marry you by Heavens, I'll die first, for I'm sure I shou'd die after it.
                                            Lucy.
                                                How his Love has made him forget his Function, as I have seen it in real Parsons.
                                            Alithea
                                                That was spoken like a Chaplain too, now you understand him, I hope.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Poor man, he takes it hainously to be refus'd; I can't blame him, 'tis putting an indignity upon him not to be suffer'd, but you'l pardon me Madam, it shan't be, he shall marry us, come away, pray Madam.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Hah, ha, he, more ado! 'tis late.
                                            Alithea
                                                Invincible stupidity, I tell you he wou'd marry me, as your Rival, not as your Chaplain.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Come, come Madam.
Pulling her away.
                                            Lucy.
                                                I pray Madam, do not refuse this reverend Divine the honour and satisfaction of marrying you; for I dare say, he has set his heart upon't, good Doctor.
                                            Alithea
                                                What can you hope, or design by this?
                                            Harcourt
                                                
I cou'd answer her, a reprieve for a day only, often
58
revokes a hasty doom; at worst, if she will not take mercy on me, and let me marry her, I have at least the Lovers second pleasure, hindring my Rivals enjoyment, though but for a time.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Come Madam, 'tis e'ne twelve a clock, and my Mother charg'd me never to be married out of the Canonical hours; come, come, Lord here's such a deal of modesty, I warrant the first day.
                                            Lucy.
                                                Yes, an't please your Worship, married women shew all their Modesty the first day, because married men shew all their love the first day. 
                                            Mr. Pinch.
                                                Come tell me, I say.
                                            Mrs. Pinch.
                                                Lord, han't I told it an hundred times over.
                                            Mr. Pinch.
                                                
I wou'd try, if in the repetition of the ungrateful tale, I cou'd find her altering it in the least circumstance, for if her story be false, she is so too.
 Aside.
Come how was't Baggage?
                                            Mrs. Pinch.
                                                Lord, what pleasure you take to hear it sure!
                                            Mr. 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.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                So, and you two were only in the room.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, for he sent away a youth that was there, for some dryed fruit, and China Oranges.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Did he so? Damn him for it —and for —
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                But presently came up the Gentlewoman of the house.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                O 'twas well she did, but what did he do whilest the fruit came?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
He kiss'd me an hundred times, and told me he fancied he kiss'd my fine Sister, meaning me you know, whom he said he lov'd 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
59
the clock this morning, and he wou'd walk under it at that time.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
And he was as good as his word, very punctual, a pox reward him for't.
Aside.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Well, and he said if you were not within, he wou'd come up to her, meaning me you know, Bud, still.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So —he knew her certainly, but for this confession, I am oblig'd to her simplicity.
Aside.
But what you stood very still, when he kiss'd you?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Yes I warrant you, wou'd you have had me discover'd my self?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But you told me, he did some beastliness to you, as you call'd it, what was't?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Why, he put —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Why he put the tip of his tongue between my lips, and so musl'd me —and I said, I'd bite it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                An eternal canker seize it, for a dog.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, you need not be so angry with him neither, for to say truth, he has the sweetest breath I ever knew.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                The Devil —you were satisfied with it then, and wou'd do it again.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Not unless he shou'd force me.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Force you, changeling! I tell you no woman can be forced.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                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.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
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 satisfie him, all Ideot as she is: Love, 'twas he gave women first their craft, their art of deluding; out of natures hands, they came plain, open, silly and fit for slaves, as she and heaven intended 'em; but damn'd Love —Well —I must strangle that little Monster, whilest I can deal with him.
60
Go fetch Pen, Ink and Paper out of the next room:
                                            Mrs Pinchwife
                                                
Yes Bud.
Exit Mrs. Pinchwife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Why should Women have more invention in love than men? It can only be, because they have more desires, more solliciting passions, more lust, and more of the Devil.
Mistriss Pinchwife returns.
Aside.
Come, Minks, sit down and write.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, dear Bud, but I can't do't very well.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I wish you cou'd not at all.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                But what shou'd I write for?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I'll have you write a Letter to your Lover.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                O Lord, to the fine Gentleman a Letter!
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, to the fine Gentleman.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Lord, you do but jeer; sure you jest.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I am not so merry, come write as I bid you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                What, do you think I am a fool?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                She's afraid I would not dictate any love to him, therefore she's unwilling; but you had best begin.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Indeed, and indeed, but I won't, so I won't.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Why?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Because he's in Town, you may send for him if you will.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Very well, you wou'd have him brought to you; is it come to this? I say take the pen and write, or you'll provoke me.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Lord, what d'ye make a fool of me for? Don't I know that letters are never writ, but from the Countrey to
London, and from
London
into the Countrey; now he's in Town, and I am in Town too; therefore I can't write to him you know.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So I am glad it is no worse, she is innocent enough yet
Aside.
Yes you may when your Husband bids you write Letters to people that are in Town.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                O may I so! Then I'm satisfied.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come begin —Sir —
Dictates.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Shan't I say, Dear Sir? You know one says always something more than bare Sir.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Write as I bid you, or I will write Whore with this Penknife in your Face.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Nay good Bud—Sir —
She writes.
Kisses and Embraces —Write
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, why shou'd I say so, you know I told you, he had a sweet breath.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Write.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Let me but put out, loath'd.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Write I say.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Well then.
Writes.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Let's see what have you writ?
Though I suffer'd last night your kisses and embraces —
Takes the paper, and reads.
Thou impudent creature, where is nauseous and loath'd?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                I can't abide to write such filthy words.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
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. Pinchwife
                                                O Lord, I will.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
So —so —Let's see now!
Reads.
Though I suffer'd last night your nauseous, loath'd kisses, and embraces; Go on—Yet I would not have you presume that you shall ever repeat them—So—
She writes.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                I have writ it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
On then —I then conceal'd my self from your knowledge, to avoid your insolencies—
She writes.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                So —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
The same reason now I am out of your hands —
She writes.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                So —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Makes me own to you my unfortunate, though innocent frolick, of being in man's cloths.
She writes.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                So —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
That you may for ever more cease to pursue her, who hates and detests you —
She writes on.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
So —h —
Sighs.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What do you sigh? —detests you —as much as she loves her Husband and her Honour —
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                I vow Husband he'll ne'er believe, I shou'd write such a letter.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What he'd expect a kinder from you? come now your name only.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                What, shan't I say your most faithful, humble Servant till death?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
No, tormenting Fiend; her stile I find wou'd be very soft.
Aside.
Come wrap it up now, whilest I go fetch wax and a candle; and write on the back side, for Mr.
Horner.
Exit Pinchwife.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
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 wou'd see't —Can one have no shift, ah a
London
woman wou'd have had a hundred presently; stay —what if I shou'd write a Letter, and wrap it up like this, and write upon't too; ay but then my Husband wou'd see't —I don't know what to do —But yet y vads 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
—
So
—
She writes, and repeats what she hath writ.
my Husband wou'd have me send you a base, rude, unmannerly Letter —but I won't —
so
—and wou'd have me forbid you loving me —but I wont —
so
—and wou'd have me sav to you, I hate you poor Mr.
Horner
—but I won't tell a lye for him —
there
—for I'm sure if you and I were
63
in the Countrey at cards together, —
so
—I cou'd 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 come; 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.
Enter Pinchwife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
I have been detained by a Sparkish Coxcomb, who pretended a visit to me; but I fear 'twas to my Wife.
Aside.
What, have you done?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay, ay Bud, just now.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Let's see't, what d'ye tremble for; what, you wou'd not have it go?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Here —No I must not
He opens, and reads the first Letter.
give him that, so I had been served if I had given him this.
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come, where's the Wax and Seal?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Lord, what shall I do now? Nay then I have it —
Aside.
Snatches the Letter from him, changes it for the other, seals it, and delivers it to him.
Pray let me see't, Lord you think me so errand a fool, I cannot seal a Letter, I will do't, so I will. 
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, I believe you will learn that, and other things too, which I wou'd not have you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
So, han't I done it curiously? I think I have, there's my Letter going to Mr.
Horner; since he'll needs have me send Letters to Folks.
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                'Tis very well, but I warrant, you wou'd not have it go now?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Yes indeed, but I wou'd, Bud, now.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
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 spye in the street.
Exit Mrs. Pinchwife
At least, 'tis fit she think so, if we do
Pinchwife locks the door.
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 secur'd all within, I'll deal with the Foe without with false intelligence.
                                            Quack.
                                                Well Sir, how fadges the new design; have you not the luck of all your brother Projectors, to deceive only your self at last.
                                            Horner
                                                
No, good
Domine
Doctor, I deceive you it seems, and others too; for the grave Matrons, and old ridgid 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!
                                            Horner
                                                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 the Pallats, warming Smocks, tying Shooes and Garters, and the like Doctor, already, already Doctor.
                                            Quack.
                                                You have made use of your time, Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                
I tell thee, I am now no more interruption to 'em,
65
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?
                                            Horner
                                                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 Chappels.
                                            Quack.
                                                Nay, the truth on't is, Priests amongst the women now, have quite got better of us Lay Consessors, Physicians.
                                            Horner
                                                
And they are rather their Patients, but —
Enter my 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.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Well
Horner
, am not I a woman of Honour? you see I'm as good as my word.
                                            Horner
                                                And you shall see Madam, I'll not be behind hand 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 Fidget
                                                But first, my dear Sir, you must promise to have a care of my dear Honour.
                                            Horner
                                                If you talk a word more of your Honour, you'll make me incapacle 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 Fidget
                                                Nay, fie, let us no be smooty; but you talk of mysteries, and bewitching to me, I don't understand you.
                                            Horner
                                                
I tell you Madam, the word money in a Mistresses mouth, at such a nick of time, is not a more disheartening sound
66
to a younger Brother, than that of Honour to an eager Lover like my self.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                But you can't blame a Lady of my reputation to be chary.
                                            Horner
                                                Chary —I have been chary of it already, by the report I have caus'd of my self.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Ay, but if you shou'd 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 shou'd not let them know the dear secret.
                                            Horner
                                                
Nay, Madam, rather than they shall prejudice your Honour, I'll prejudice theirs; and to serve you, I'll lye with 'em all, make the secret their own, and then they'll keep it: I am a
Machiavel
in love Madam.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                O, no Sir, not that way.
                                            Horner
                                                Nay, the Devil take me, if censorious women are to be silenc'd any other way.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
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 Jaspar Fidget.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                How now!
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
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?
Aside.
Sir
Jaspar
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 Jaspar
                                                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?
                                            Horner
                                                
China-House, that's my Cue, I must take it
Aside.
A Pox, can't you keep your impertinent Wives at home? some men are troubled with the Husbands, but I with the
67
Wives; but I'd have you to know, since I cannot be your Journey-man by night, I will not be your drudge by day, to squire your wife about, and be your man of straw, or scare-crow only to Pyes and Jays; that would be nibling at your forbidden fruit; I shall be shortly the Hackney Gentleman-Usher of the Town.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Heh, heh, 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;
Aside.
heh, he, he, ben't angry
Horner
—
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                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 my self upon such ill bred people of your acquaintance, as this is.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Nay, pr'ythee what has he done?
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Nay, he has done nothing.
                                            Sir. Jas.
                                                But what d'ye take ill, if he has done nothing?
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Hah, hah, hah, Faith, I can't but laugh however; why d'ye think the unmannerly toad wou'd not 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.
Exit Lady Fidget, and locks the door, followed by Horner to the door.
                                            Horner
                                                
Lock the door Madam —
Apart to Lady Fidget.
So, she has got into my chamber, and lock'd me out; oh the impertinency of woman-kind! Well Sir
Jaspar
, 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 Major she shall; though I cannot furnish you my self, you are sure, yet I'll find a way.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Hah, ha, he, 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.
Aside.
Heh, he, he, poor
Horner.
                                            Horner
                                                Nay, though you laugh now, 'twill be my turn e're 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 Jaspar
                                                
Hah, ha, ha, poor angry
Horner.
                                            Horner
                                                Stay here a little, I'll ferret her out to presently, I warrant.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Wife, my Lady
Fidget, Wife, he is coming into you the back way.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Let him come, and welcome, which way he will.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                He'll catch you, and use you roughly, and be too strong for you.
                                            La Fidget
                                                Don't you trouble your self, let him if he can.
                                            Quack.
                                                
This indeed, I cou'd not have believ'd from him, nor any but my own eyes.
Enter Mistriss Squeamish.
                                            Speamish
                                                Where's this Woman-hater, this Toad, this ugly, greasie, dirty sloven?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                So the women all will have him ugly, methinks he is a comely person; but he 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 Gigantick Coward.
                                            Speamish
                                                
Sir
Jaspar, your Servant, where is the odious Beast?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                He's within in his chamber, with my Wife; she's playing the wag with him.
                                            Speamish
                                                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 lock't?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Ay, my Wife lock't it —
                                            Speamish
                                                Did she so, let us break it open then?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                No, no, he'll do her no hurt.
                                            Speamish
                                                
No —But is there no other way to get into 'em, whither goes this? I will disturb'em.
Aside.
Exit Squeamish at another door.
Enter old Lady Squeamish.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                
Where is this Harlotry, this Impudent Baggage, this rambling Tomrigg? O Sir
Jaspar, I'm glad to see you here, did you not see my vil'd Grandchild come in hither just now?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Yes,
                                            Old Lady Squeam
                                                
Ay, but where is she then? where is she? Lord Sir
Jaspar
I have e'ne ratled my self to pieces in pursuit of her, but can you tell what she makes here, they say below, no woman lodges here.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                No.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                No —What does she here then? say if it be not a womans lodging, what makes she here? but are you sure no woman lodges here?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
No, nor no man neither, this is Mr.
Horners
Lodging.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                Is it so are you sure?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Yes, yes.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                So then there's no hurt in't I hope, but where is he?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                He's in the next room with my Wife.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                
Nay if you trust him with your wife, I may with my Biddy, they say he's a merry harmless man now, e'ne 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 Jaspar
                                                
Ay, ay poor man.
Enter Mrs. Squeamish.
                                            Speamish
                                                
I can't find 'em —Oh are you here, Grandmother, I follow'd you must know my Lady
Fidget
hither, 'tis the prettyest lodging, and I have been staring on the prettyest Pictures.
70
Enter Lady Fidget with a piece of China in her hand, and Horner following.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                And I have been toyling and moyling, for the pretti'st piece of China, my Dear.
                                            Horner
                                                Nay she has been too hard for me do what I cou'd.
                                            Speamish
                                                
Oh Lord I'le have some China too, good Mr.
Horner, don't think to give other people China, and me none, come in with me too.
                                            Horner
                                                Upon my honour I have none left now.
                                            Speamish
                                                Nay, nay I have known you deny your China before now, but you shan't put me off so, come —
                                            Horner
                                                This Lady had the last there.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Yes indeed Madam, to my certain knowledge he has no more left.
                                            Speamish
                                                O but it may be he may have some you could not find.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                What d'y 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.
                                            Horner
                                                Do not take it ill, I cannot make China for you all, but I will have a Rol-waggon for you too, another time.
                                            Speamish
                                                
Thank you dear Toad.
To Horn, aside.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                What do you mean by that promise?
                                            Horner
                                                
Alas she has an innocent, literal understanding.
Apart to Lady Fidget.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                
Poor Mr.
Horner, he has enough to doe to please you all, I see.
                                            Horner
                                                Ay Madam, you see how they use me.
                                            Old Ladu Speamish
                                                Poor Gentleman I pitty you.
                                            Horner
                                                I thank you Madam, I could never find pitty, but from such reverend Ladies as you are, he young ones will never spare a man.
                                            Speamish
                                                Come come, Beast, and go dine with us, for we shall want a man at Hombre after dinner.
                                            Horner
                                                That's all their use of me Madam you see.
                                            Speamish
                                                
Come Sloven, I'le lead you to be sure of you.
Pulls him by the Crevat.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                Alas poor man how she tuggs him, kiss, kiss her, that's the way to make such nice women quiet.
                                            Horner
                                                No Madam, that Remedy is worse than the Torment, they know I dare suffer any thing rather than do it.
                                            Old Lady Speamish
                                                Prythee kiss her, and I'le give you her Picture in little, that you admir'd so last night, prythee do.
                                            Horner
                                                
Well nothing but that could bribe me, I love a woman only in Effigie, and good Painting as much as I hate them —I'le do't, for I cou'd adore the Devil well painted.
Kisses Mrs. Speamish
                                            Speamish
                                                Foh, you filthy Toad, nay now I've done jesting.
                                            Old L. Speamish
                                                Ha, ha, ha, I told you so.
                                            Speamish
                                                Foh a kiss of his —
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Has no more hurt in't, than one of my Spaniels.
                                            Speamish
                                                Nor no more good neither.
                                            Quack.
                                                
I will now believe any thing he tells me.
Behind.
Enter Mr. Pinchwife.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
O Lord here's a man, Sir
Jaspar, my Mask, my Mask, I would not be seen here for the world.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                What not when I am with you.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No, no my honour — let's be gone.
                                            Speamish
                                                Oh Grandmother, let us be gone, make hast, make hast, I know not how he may censure us.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Be found in the lodging of any thing like a man, away.
Exeunt Sir Jaspar, Lady Fidget, Old Lady Speamish, Mrs. Squeamish.
                                            Quack.
                                                
What's here another Cuckold — he looks like one, and none else sure have any business with him,
Behind.
                                            Horner
                                                Well what brings my dear friend hither?
                                            Mr. Pinch.
                                                Your impertinency.
                                            Horner
                                                My impertinency — why you Gentlemen that have got handsome Wives, think you have a privilege of saying any thing to your friends, and are as brutish, as if you were our Creditors.
                                            Mr. Pinch
                                                No Sir, I'le ne're trust you any way.
                                            Horner
                                                
But why not, dear
Jack, why diffide in me, thou knowst so well.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Because I do know you so well.
                                            Horner
                                                
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.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I believe so you wou'd be my second now indeed.
                                            Horner
                                                
Well then dear
Jack, why so unkind, so grum, so strange to me, come prythee kiss me deare Rogue, gad I was always I say, and am still as much thy Servant as —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                As I am yours Sir. What you wou'd send a kiss to my Wife, is that it?
                                            Horner
                                                So there 'tis — a man can't shew his friendship to a married man, but presently he talks of his wife to you, prythee let thy Wife alone, and let thee and I be all one, as we were wont, what thou art as shye of my kindness, as a Lumbart-street Alderman of a Courtiers civility at Lockets.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
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.
                                            Horner
                                                What is't?
                                            Mr. Pinch.
                                                Only a Love Letter Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                From whom — how, this is from your Wife — hum — and hum —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Even from my Wife Sir, am I not wondrous kind and civil to you, now too? But you'l not think her so.
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                
Ha, is this a trick of his or hers
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                The Gentleman's surpriz'd I find, what you expected a kinder Letter?
                                            Horner
                                                No faith not I, how cou'd I.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                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.
                                            Horner
                                                
But what should this mean? stay the Postscript. Be sure you love me whatsoever my husband says to the contrary, and let him not see this, lest he should come
73
home, and pinch me, or kill my Squirrel.
Reads aside.
It seems he knows not what the Letter contains.
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come ne're wonder at it so much.
                                            Horner
                                                Faith I can't help it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Now I think I have deserv'd your infinite friendship, and kindness, and have shewed my self sufficiently an obliging kind friend and husband, am I not so, to bring a Letter from my Wife to her Gallant?
                                            Horner
                                                Ay, the Devil take me, art thou, the most obliging, kind friend and husband in the world, ha, ha.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Well you may be merry Sir, but in short I must tell you Sir, my honour will suffer no jesting.
                                            Horner
                                                What do'st thou mean?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                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.
                                            Horner
                                                Thou art mad with jealousie, 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!
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I will not be a Cuckold I say, there will be danger in making me a Cuckold.
                                            Horner
                                                Why, wert thou not well cur'd of thy last clap?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I weare a Sword.
                                            Horner
                                                It should be taken from thee, left thou should'st do thy self a mischiefe with it, thou art mad, Man.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                As mad as I am, and as merry as you are, I must have more reason form you e're we part, I say again though you kiss'd, and courted last night my Wife in man's clothes, as she confesses in her Letter.
                                            Horner
                                                
Ha —
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Both she and I say you must not design it again, for you have mistaken your woman, as you have done your man.
                                            Horner
                                                
Oh —I understand something now —
Aside.
Was that thy Wife? why would'st thou not tell me 'twas she? faith my freedome with her was your fault, not mine.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Faith so 'twas —
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                Fye, I'de never do't to a woman before her husbands face, sure.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But I had rather you should do't to my wife before my face, than behind my back, and that you shall never doe.
                                            Horner
                                                No —you will hinder me.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                If I would not hinder you, you see by her Letter, she wou'd.
                                            Horner
                                                Well, I must e'ne acquiess then, and be contented with what she writes.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I'le assure you 'twas voluntarily writ, I had no hand in't you may believe me.
                                            Horner
                                                I do believe thee, faith.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                And believe her too, for she's an innocent creature, has no dissembling in her, and so fare you well Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                Pray however present my humble service to her, and tell her I will obey her Letter to a tittle, and fulfill 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 —
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Well then fare you well, and play with any mans honour but mine, kiss any mans wife but mine, and welcome —
Exit Mr. Pinch.
                                            Horner
                                                Ha, ha, ha, Doctor.
                                            Quack.
                                                It seems he has not heard the report of you, or does not believe it.
                                            Horner
                                                Ha, ha, now Doctor what think you?
                                            Quack.
                                                Pray let's see the Letter —hum —for — deare —love you —
                                            Horner
                                                I wonder how she cou'd 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 —
                                            Horner
                                                
And I say for the Letter, 'tis the first love Letter that
75
ever was without Flames, Darts, Fates, Destinies, Lying and Dissembling in't.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Come back, you are a pretty Brother-in-law, neither go to Church, nor to dinner with your Sister Bride.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                My Sister denies her marriage, and you see is gone away from you dissatisfy'd.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
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 women be never so modest the first day, they'l 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 Aunts in the Piazza.
                                            Horner
                                                Thy wedding, what stale Maid has liv'd to despaire of a husband, or what young one of a Gallant?
                                            Sparkish
                                                O your Servant Sir —this Gentlemans Sister then —No stale Maid.
                                            Horner
                                                I'm sorry for't.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
How comes he so concern'd for her —
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                You sorry for't, why do you know any ill by her?
                                            Horner
                                                No, I know none but by thee, 'tis for her sake, not yours, and another mans sake that might have hop'd, I thought —
                                            Sparkish
                                                Another Man, another man, what is his Name?
                                            Horner
                                                
Nay since 'tis past he shall be nameless. Poor
Harcourt
I am sorry thou hast mist her —
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
He seems to be much troubled at the match—
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Prythee tell me —nay you shan't go Brother.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
I must of necessity, but I'le come to you to dinner.
Exit Pinchwife.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
But
Harry, what have I a Rival in my Wife already? but withal my heart, for he may be of use to me hereafter, for though my hunger is now my sawce, and I can fall on heartily without, but the time will come, when a Rival will be as
76
good sawce for a married man to a wife, as an Orange to Veale.
                                            Horner
                                                O thou damn'd Rogue, thou hast set my teeth on edge with thy Orange.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Then let's to dinner, there I was with you againe, come.
                                            Horner
                                                But who dines with thee?
                                            Sparkish
                                                
My Friends and Relations, my Brother
Pinchwife
you see of your acquaintance.
                                            Horner
                                                And his Wife.
                                            Sparkish
                                                No gad, he'l nere 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 turn'd 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 —
                                            Horner
                                                No, I will not dine with you, unless you can fetch her too.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Pshaw what pleasure can'st thou have with women now,
Harry?
                                            Horner
                                                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.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Well I'le go try what I can do, in the mean time come away to my Aunts lodging, 'tis in the way to
Pinchwifes.
                                            Horner
                                                The poor woman has call'd for aid, and stretch'd forth her hand Doctor, I cannot but help her over the Pale out of the Bryars.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Well 'tis 'ene so, I have got the
London
disease, they call Love, I am sick of my Husband, and for my Gallant;
77
I have heard this distemper, call'd a Feaver, but methinks 'tis liker an Ague, for when I think of my Husband, I tremble and am in a cold sweat, and have inclinations to vomit, but when I think of my Gallant, dear Mr.
Horner, my hot fit come, and I am all in a Feaver, indeed & as in other Feavers, my own Chamber is tedious to me, and would fain be remov'd to his, and then methinks I shou'd be well; ah poor Mr.
Horner, well I cannot, will not stay here, therefore I'le make an end of my Letter to him, which shall be a finer Letter than my last, because I have studied it like any thing; O Sick, Sick!
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What writing more Letters?
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
O Lord Budd, why d'ye fright
She offers to run out: he stops her, and reads.
me so?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                How's this! nay you shall not stir Madam. 
Deare, Deare, deare, Mr
Horner
—very well — I have taught you to write Letters to good purpose —but let's see't. First I am to beg your pardon for my boldness in writing to you, which I'de have you to know, I would not have done, had not you said first you lov'd me so extreamly, which if you doe, you will never suffer me to lye in the arms of another man, whom I loath, nauseate, and detest — Now you can write these filthy words. but what follows — Therefore I hope you will speedily find some way to free me from this unfortunate match, which was never, I assure you, of my choice, but I'm afraid 'tis already too far gone; however if you love me, as I do you, you will try what you can do, but you must help me away before to morrow, or else alass I shall be for ever out of your reach, for I can defer no longer our —our —what is to follow our — speak what? our Journey into
The Letter concludes.
the Country I suppose —Oh Woman, damnd Woman,
78
and Love, damn'd Love, their old Tempter, for this is one of his miracles, in a moment, he can make those blind that cou'd see, and those see that were blind, those dumb that could speak, and those prattle who were dumb before, nay what is more than all, make these dow-bak'd, sensless, indocile animals, Women, too hard for us their Politick Lords and Rulers in a moment; But make an end of your Letter, and then I'le make an end of you thus, and all my plagues together.
Draws his Sword.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
O Lord, O Lord you are such a Passionate Man, Budd.
Enter Sparkish.
                                            Sparkish
                                                How now what's here to doe.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                This Fool here now!
                                            Sparkish
                                                
What drawn upon your Wife? you shou'd never do that but at night in the dark when you can't hurt her, this is my Sister in Law is it not? ay faith e'ne our
Pulls aside her Handkercheife.
Country
Margery, one may know her, come she and you must go dine with me, dinner's ready, come, but where's my Wife, is she not come home yet, where is she?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Making you a Cuckold, 'tis that they all doe, as soon as they can.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
What the Wedding day? no, a Wife that designs to make a Cully of her Husband, will be sure to let him win the first stake of love, by the world, but come they stay dinner for us, come I'le lead down our
Margery.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                No —Sir go We'l follow you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                I will not wag without you.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                This Coxcomb is a sensible torment to me amidst the greatest in the world.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Come, come Madam
Margery.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
No I'le lead her my way,
Leads her to t'other door, and locks her in and returns.
what wou'd you treat your friends with mine, for want of your own Wife? I am contented my rage shou'd take breath —
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
I told
Horner
this.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come now.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Lord, how shye you are of your Wife, but let me tell you Brother, we men of wit have amongst us a saying, that Cuckolding like the small Pox comes with a fear, and you may keep your Wife as much as you will out of danger of infection, but if her constitution incline her to't, she'l have it sooner or later by the world, say they.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
What a thing is a Cuckold, that every fool can make him ridiculous —
Aside.
Well Sir —But let me advise you, now you are come to be concern'd, because you suspect the danger, not to neglect the means to prevent it, especially when the greatest share of the Malady will light upon your own head, for —
How'sere the kind Wife's Belly comes to swell.The Husband breeds for her, and first is ill.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come take the Pen and make an end of the Letter, just as you intended, if you are false in a tittle, I shall soon perceive it, and punish you with this as you deserve, write what was to follow —let's see —
Lays his hand on his Sword.
You must make haste and help me away before to morrow, or else I shall be for ever out of your reach, for I can defer no longer our — What follows our?—
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Must all out then Budd? —
Mrs. Pinchwife takes the Pen and writes.
Look you there then.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Let's see —[For I can defer no longer our—
80
Wedding —Your slighted
Alithea
] What's the meaning of this, my Sisters name to't, speak, unriddle
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Yes indeed Budd
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But why her name to't speak —speak I say.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Ay but you'l tell her then again, if you wou'd not tell her again.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I will not, I am stunn'd, my head turns round, speak.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Won't you tell her indeed, and indeed.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                No, speak I say.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                She'l be angry with me, but I had rather she should be angry with me than you Budd; and to tell you the truth, 'twas she made me write the Letter, and taught me what I should write.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Ha —I thought the stile was somewhat better than her own, but how cou'd she come to you to teach you, since I had lock'd you up alone.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                O through the key hole Budd.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But why should she make you write a Letter for her to him, since she can write her self.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Why she said because —for I was unwilling to do it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Because what —because.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Because lest Mr.
Horner
should be cruel and refuse her, or vaine afterwards, and shew the Letter, she might disown it, the hand not being hers.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
How's this? ha —then I think I shall come to my self again —This changeling cou'd not invent this lye, but if she cou'd, why should she? she might think I should soon discover it —stay —now I think on't too,
Horner
said he was sorry she had married
Sparkish, and her disowning her marriage to me, makes me think she has evaded it, for
Horner's
sake, yet why should she take this course, but men in love are fools, women may well be so. —
Aside.
But hark you Madam, your Sister went out in the morning, and I have not seen her within since.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                A lack a day she has been crying all day above it seems in a corner.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Where is she, let me speak with her.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
O Lord then he'l discover all —
Aside.
Pray hold Budd, what d'y mean to discover me, she'l know I have told you then, pray Budd let me talk with her first—
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
I must speak with her to know whether
Horner
ever made her any promise; and whether she be married to
Sparkish
or no
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray dear Budd don't, till I have spoken with her and told her that I have told you all, for she'll kill me else.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Go then and bid her come out to me.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Yes, yes Budd—
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Let me see—
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
I'le go, but she is not within to come to him, I have just got time to know of
Lucy
her Maid, who first set me on work, what lye I shall tell next, for I am e'ne at my wits end —
Exit Mrs. Pinchwife.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Well I resolve it,
Horner
shall have her, I'd rather give him my Sister than lend him my Wife, and such an alliance will prevent his pretensions to my Wife sure, —I'le make him of kinn to her, and then he won't care for her.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                O Lord Budd I told you what anger you would make me with my Sister.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Won't she come hither.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
No no, alack a day, she's asham'd to look you in the face, and she says if you go in to her, she'l run away down stairs and shamefully go her self to Mr.
Horner, who has promis'd her marriage she says, and she will have no other, so she won't—
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Did he so —promise her marriage —then she shall have no other, go tell her so, and if she will come and discourse with me a little concerning the means, I will about it immediately, go —
Exit Mrs. Pinchwife
82
His estate is equal to
Sparkish's, and his extraction as much better than his, as his parts are, but my chief reason is, I'd rather be of kin to him by the name of Brother-in-law, than that of Cuckold — Well what says she now
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Why she says she would only have you lead her to
Horners
lodging—with whom she first will discourse the matter before she talk with you, which yet she cannot doe; for alack poor creature, she says she can't so much as look you in the face, therefore she'l come to you in a mask, and you must excuse her if she make you no answer to any question of yours, till you have brought her to Mr.
Horner, and if you will not chide her, nor question her, she'l come out to you immediately.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Let her come I will not speak a word to her, nor require a word from her.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Oh I forgot, besides she says, she cannot look you in the face, though through a mask, therefore wou'd desire you to put out the Candle.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
I agree to all, let her make
Exit Mrs. Pinchiwife, puts out the Candle.
haste —there 'tis out —My case is something better, I'd rather fight with
Horner
for not lying with my Sister, than for lying with my Wife, and of the two I had rather find my Sister too forward than my Wife; I expected no other from her free education, as she calls it, and her passion for the Town —well —Wife and Sister are names which make us expect Love and duty, pleasure and comfort, but we find 'em plagues and torments and are equally, though differently troublesome to their keeper; for we have as much a doe to get people to lye with our Sisters, as to keep 'em from lying with our Wives.
Enter Mrs. Pinchwife Masked and in Hoods and Scarves, and a night Gown and Petticoat of Alitheas in the dark.
What are you come Sister? let us go then —but first let me lock up my Wife, Mrs.
Margery
where are you
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Here Budd.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come hither, that I may lock you up,
Locks the door.
get you in, Come, Sister, where are you now?
                                            Quack.
                                                What all alone, not so much as one of your Cuckolds here, nor one of their Wives! they use to take their turns with you, as if they were to watch you.
                                            Horner
                                                Yes it often happens, that a Cuckold is but his Wifes spye, and is more upon family duty, when he is with her gallant abroad hindring his pleasure, than when he is at home with her playing the Gallant, but the hardest duty a married woman imposes upon a lover is, keeping her husband company always.
                                            Quack.
                                                And his fondness wearies you almost as soon as hers.
                                            Horner
                                                A Pox, keeping a Cuckold company after you have had his Wife, is as tiresome as the company of a Country Squire to a witty fellow of the Town, when he has got all his Mony.
                                            Quack.
                                                And as at first a man makes a friend of the Husband to get the Wife, so at last you are faine to fall out with the Wife to be rid of the Husband.
                                            Horner
                                                Ay, most Cuckold-makers are true Courtiers, when once a poor man has crack'd his credit for 'em, they can't abide to come neer him.
                                            Quack.
                                                
But at first to draw him in are so sweet, so kind, so dear, just as you are to
Pinchwife, but what becomes of that intrigue with his Wife.
                                            Horner
                                                A Pox he's as surly as an Alderman that has been bit, and since he's so coy, his Wife's kindness is in vain, for she's a silly innocent.
                                            Quack.
                                                Did she not send you a Letter by him.
                                            Horner
                                                
Yes, but that's a riddle I have not yet solv'd —allow the poor creature to be willing, she is silly too, and he
84
keeps her up so close—
                                            Quack.
                                                Yes, so close that he makes her but the more willing, and adds but revenge to her love, which two when met seldome faile of satisfying each other one way or other.
                                            Horner
                                                
What here's the man we are talking of I think.
Enter Mr. Pinchwife leading in his Wife Masqued, Muffled, and in her Sisters Gown.
                                            Horner
                                                Pshaw.
                                            Quack.
                                                Bringing his Wife to you is the next thing to bringing a Love Letter from her.
                                            Horner
                                                What means this?
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                The last time you know Sir I brought you a love Letter, now you see a Mistress, I think you'l say I am a civil man to you.
                                            Horner
                                                Ay the Devil me will I say thou art the civillest man I ever met with, and I have known some; I fancy, I understand thee now, better than I did the Letter, but hark thee in thy eare—
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What.
                                            Horner
                                                Nothing but the usual question man, is she soundsoundsoundfree of venereal disease on thy word.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What you take her for a Wench and me for a Pimp.
                                            Horner
                                                Pshaw, wench and Pimp, paw words, I know thou art an honest fellow, and hast a great acquaintance among the Ladies, and perhaps hast made love for me rather than let me make love to thy Wife—
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Come Sir, in short, I am for no fooling.
                                            Horner
                                                Nor I neither, therefore prythee let's see her face presently, make show man, art thou sure I don't know her.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I am sure you doe know her.
                                            Horner
                                                A Pox why dost thou bring her to me then.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Because she's a Relation of mine.
                                            Horner
                                                Is she faith man, then thou art still more civil and obliging, dear Rogue.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Who desir'd me to bring her to you.
                                            Horner
                                                Then she is obliging, dear Rogue.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                You'l make her welcome for my sake I hope.
                                            Horner
                                                I hope she is handsome enough to make her self wellcome; prythee let her unmask.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Doe you speak to her, she wou'd never be rul'd by me.
                                            Horner
                                                
Madam —
Mrs. Pinchwife whispers to Horner
She says she must speak with me in private, withdraw prythee.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
She's unwilling it seems I shou'd know all her undecent conduct in this business —
Aside.
Well then Ile leave you together, and hope when I am gone you'l agree, if not you and I shan't agree Sir.—
                                            Horner
                                                
What means the Fool? —if she and I agree 'tis no matter what you and I do.
Whispers to Mrs Pinchwife, who makes signs with her hand for him to be gone.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
In the mean time I'le fetch a Parson, and find out
Sparkish
and disabuse him. You wou'd have me fetch a Parson, would you not, well then —Now I think I am rid of her, and shall have no more trouble with her —Our Sisters and Daughters like Usurers money, are safest, when put out; but our Wifes, like their writings, never safe, but in our Closets under Lock and Key.
Exit Mr. Pinchwife
Enter Boy.
                                            Boy.
                                                
Sir
Jaspar Fidget
Sir is coming up
                                            Horner
                                                
Here's the trouble of a Cuckold, now we are talking of, a pox on him, has he not enough to doe to hinder his Wifes sport, but he must other women's too. —Step in here Madam.
Exit Mrs. Pinchwife
Enter Sir Jaspar
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                My best and dearest Friend.
                                            Horner
                                                The old stile Doctor — Well be short, for I am busie, what would your impertinent Wife have now?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Well guess'd y' faith, for I do come from her
                                            Horner
                                                to invite me to supper, tell her I can't come, go.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Nay, now you are out faith, for my Lady and the whole knot of the virtuous gang, as they call themselves, are resolv'd upon a frolick of coming to you to night in a Masquerade, and are all drest already
                                            Horner
                                                I shan't be at home.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Lord how churlish he is to women —nay prythee don't disappoint 'em, they'l think 'tis my fault, prythee don't, I'le send in the Banquet and the Fiddles, but make no noise on't, for the poor virtuous Rogues would not have it known for the world, that they go a Masquerading, and they would come to no mans Ball, but yours
                                            Horner
                                                Well, well —get you gone, and tell 'em if they come, 'twill be at the peril of their honour and yours
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Heh, he, he —we'l trust you for that, farewell —
Exit Sir Jaspar
                                            Horner
                                                Doctor anon you too shall be my guest.But now I'm going to a private feast.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
But who would have thought a
Sparkish with the Letter in his hand.
woman could have been false to me, by the world, I could not have thought it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                You were for giving and taking liberty, she has taken it only Sir, now you find in that Letter, you are a frank person, and so is she you see there.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Nay if this be her hand —for I never saw it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
'Tis no matter whether that be her hand or no, I am sure this hand at her desire lead her to Mr.
Horner, with whom I left her just now, to go fetch a Parson to 'em at their desire too, to deprive you of her for ever, for it seems yours was but a mock marriage.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Indeed she wou'd needs have it that 'twas
Harcourt
himself in a Parsons habit, that married us, but I'm sure he told me 'twas his Brother Ned.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
O there 'tis out and you were deceiv'd not she
87
for you are such a frank person —but I must be gone— you'l find her at Mr.
Horners, goe and believe your eyes.
Exit Mr. Pinchwife
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Nay I'le to her, and call her as many Crocodiles, Syrens, Harpies, and other heathenish names, as a Poet would do a Mistress, who had refus'd to heare his suit, nay more his Verses on her. But stay, is not that she following a Torch at t'other end of the Piazza, and from
Horners
certainly —'tis so —
Enter Alithea following a Torch, and Lucy behind.
You are well met Madam though you don't think so; what you have made a short visit to Mr.
Horner, but I suppose you'l return to him presently, by that time the Parson can be with him.
                                            Alithea
                                                
Mr.
Horner, and the Parson Sir—
                                            Sparkish
                                                Come Madam no more dissembling, no more jilting for I am no more a frank person.
                                            Alithea
                                                How's this?
                                            Lucy.
                                                
So 'twill work I see —
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Cou'd you find out no easie Country Fool to abuse? none but me, a Gentleman of wit and pleasure about the Town, but it was your pride to be too hard for a man of parts, unworthy false woman, false as a friend that lends a man mony to lose, false as dice, who undoe those that trust all they have to 'em.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
He has been a great bubble by his similes as they say —
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                You have been too merry Sir at your wedding dinner sure.
                                            Sparkish
                                                What d'y mock me too?
                                            Alithea
                                                Or you have been deluded.
                                            Sparkish
                                                By you.
                                            Alithea
                                                Let me understand you.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Have you the confidence, I should call it something else, since you know your guilt, to stand my just reproaches? you did not write an impudent Letter to Mr.
Horner, who I find now has club'd with you in deluding me with his aversion for women, that I might not forsooth suspect him for my
88
Rival.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
D'y think the Gentleman can be jealous now Madam —
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                
I write a Letter to Mr.
Horner.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
Nay Madam, do not deny it, your Brother shew'd it me just now, and told likewise he left you at
Horners
lodging to fetch a Parson to marry you to him, and I wish you joy Madam, joy, joy, and to him too much joy, and to my self more joy for not marrying you.
                                            Alithea
                                                
So I find my Brother would break off the match, and I can consent to't, since I see this Gentleman can be made jealous.
Aside.
O
Lucy, by his rude usage and jealousie, he makes me almost afraid I am married to him, art thou sure 'twas
Harcourt
himself and no Parson that married us.
                                            Sparkish
                                                
No Madam I thank you, I suppose that was a contrivance too of Mr.
Horners
and yours, to make
Harcourt
play the Parson, but I would as little as you have him one now, do not for the world, for shall I tell you another truth, I never had any passion for you, 'till now, for now I hate you, 'tis true I might have married your portion, as other men of parts of the Town do sometimes, and so your Servant, and to shew my unconcernedness, I'le come to your wedding, and resign you with as much joy as I would a stale wench to a new Cully nay with as much joy, as I would after the first night, if I had been married to you, there's for you, and so your Servant, Servant.
Exit Sparkish
                                            Alithea
                                                How was I deceiv'd in a man.
                                            Lucy.
                                                You'l believe then a fool may be made jealous now? for that easiness in him that suffers him to be led by a Wife, will likewise permit him to be perswaded against her by others.
                                            Alithea
                                                
But marry Mr.
Horner, my brother does not intend it sure; if I thought he did, I would take thy advice, and Mr.
Harcourt
for my Husband, and now I wish, that if there be any over-wise woman of the Town, who like me would marry
89
a fool, for fortune, liberty, or title, first that her husband may love Play, and be a Cully to all the Town, but her, and suffer none but fortune to be mistress of his purse, then if for liberty, that he may send her into the Country under the conduct of some housewifely mother-in law; and of for title, may the world give 'em none but that of Cuckold.
                                            Lucy.
                                                And for her greater curse Madam, may he not deserve it
                                            Alithea
                                                
Away impertinent —is not this my old Lady
Lanterlus?LanterluLanterluMrs. Lanterlu is presumably Harcourt's landlady.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
Yes Madam.
Aside.
And here I hope we shall find Mr.
Harcourt
—
                                            Horner
                                                
A Pox they are come too soon —before I have sent back my new —Mistress, all I have now to do, is to lock her in, that they may not see her —
Aside.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                That we may be sure of our wellcome, we have brought our entertainment with us, and are resolv'd to treat thee, dear Toad.
                                            Dainty
                                                And that we may be merry to purpose, have left they should chance to interrupt us.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Let us sit then
                                            Horner
                                                First that you may be private, let me lock this door, and that, and I'le wait upon you presently
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No Sir, shut 'em only and your lips for ever, for we must trust you as much as our women.
                                            Horner
                                                You know all vanity's kill'd in me, I have no occasion for talking.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Now Ladies, supposing we had drank each of us our two Bottles, let us speak the truth of our hearts.
                                            Dainty and Squeamish
                                                Agreed
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
By this brimmer, for truth is no where else to be found. Not in thy heart false man.
Aside to Horner
                                            Horner
                                                
You have found me a true man I'm sure.
Aside to Lady Fidget
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Not every way —
Aside to Horner
But let us sit and be merry.
                                            Lady Fidget sings.
                                                IWhy should our damn'd Tyrants oblige us to live.On the pittance of Pleasure which they only give.We must not rejoyce,With Wine and with noise.In vaine we must wake in a dull bed alone.Whilst to our warm Rival the Bottle, they're gone.Then lay aside charms,And take up these arms.these_armsthese_arms*The Glasses. [Wycherley's note.]     2'Tis Wine only gives 'em their Courage and Wit,Because we live sober to men we submit.If for Beauties you'd pass.Take a lick of the Glass.'Twill mend your complexions, and when they are gone,The best red we have is the red of the Grape.Then Sister lay't on.And dam a good shape.
                                            Dainty
                                                Dear Brimmer, well in token of our openness and plain dealing, let us throw our Masques over our heads.
                                            Horner
                                                So 'twill come to the Glasses anon.
                                            Squeamish
                                                Lovely Brimmer, let me enjoy him first.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No, I never part with a Gallant, till I've try'd him. Dear Brimmer that mak'st our Husbands short sighted.
                                            Dainty
                                                And our bashful gallants bold.
                                            Squeamish
                                                And for want of a Gallant, the Butler lovely in our eyes, drink Eunuch.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Drink thou representative of a Husband, damn a Husband.
                                            Dainty
                                                And as it were a Husband, an old keeper.
                                            Squeamish
                                                And an old Grandmother.
                                            Horner
                                                And an English Bawd, and a French Chirurgion.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Ay we have all reason to curse 'em.
                                            Horner
                                                For my sake Ladies.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No, for our own, for the first spoils all young gallants industry.
                                            Dainty
                                                And the others art makes 'em bold only with common women.
                                            Squeamish
                                                And rather run the hazard of the vile distemper amongst them, than of a denial amongst us.
                                            Dainty
                                                The filthy Toads chuse Mistresses now, as they do Stuffs, for having been fancy'd and worn by others.
                                            Squeamish
                                                For being common and cheap.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Whilst women of quality, like the richest Stuffs, lye untumbled, and unask'd for.
                                            Horner
                                                Ay neat, and cheap, and new often they think best.
                                            Dainty
                                                No Sir, the Beasts will be known by a Mistriss longer than by a suit.
                                            Squeamish
                                                And 'tis not for cheapness neither.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                No, for the vain fopps will take up Druggers, and embroider 'em, but I wonder at the depraved appetites of witty men, they use to be out of the common road, and hate imitation, pray tell me beast, when you were a man, why you rather chose to club with a multitude in a common house, for an entertainment, than to be the only guest at a good Table.
                                            Horner
                                                Why faith ceremony and expectation are unsufferable to those that are sharp bent, people always eat with the best stomach at an ordinary, where every man is snatching for the best bit.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Though he get a cut over the fingers —but I have heard people eat most heartily of another man's meat, that is, what they do not pay for.
                                            Horner
                                                When they are sure of their wellcome and freedome, for ceremony in love and eating, is as ridiculous as in sighting, falling on briskly is all should be done in those occasions.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Well then let me tell you Sir, there is no where more freedome than in our houses, and we take freedom from a young person as a sign of good breeding, and a person may be as free as he pleases with us, as frolick, as a gamesome, as wild as he will.
                                            Horner
                                                Han't I heard you all declaim against wild men.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Yes, but for all that, we think wildness in a man, as desireable a quality, as in a Duck, or Rabbet; a tame man, foh.
                                            Horner
                                                I Know not, but your Reputations frightned me, as much as your Faces invited me.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Our Reputation, Lord! Why should you not think, that we women make use of our Reputation, as you men of yours, only to deceive the world with less suspicion; our virtue is like the State-man's Religion, the Quakers Word, the Gamesters Oath, and the Great Man's Honour, but to cheat those that trust us.
                                            Squeamish
                                                And that Demureness, Coyness, and Modesty, that you see in our Faces in the Boxes at Plays, is as much a sign of a kind woman, as a Vizard-mask in the Pit.
                                            Dainty
                                                For I assure you, women are least mask'd, when they have the Velvet Vizard on.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                You wou'd have found us modest women in our denyals only.
                                            Squeamish
                                                Our Bashfulness is only the reflection of the Men's.
                                            Dainty
                                                We blush, when they ae shame-fac'd.  
                                            Horner
                                                I beg your pardon Ladies, I was deceiv'd in you devilishly, but why, that mighty pretence to Honour.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
We have told you; but sometimess 'twas for the
93
same reason you men pretend business often, to avoid ill company, to enjoy the better, and more privately those you love.
                                            Horner
                                                But why, wou'd you ne'er give a Friend a wink then?
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Faith, your Reputation frightned us as much, as ours did you, you were so notoriously lewd.
                                            Horner
                                                And you so seemingly honest.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Was that all that deterr'd you?
                                            Horner
                                                And so expensive —you allow freedom you say.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Ay, ay.
                                            Horner
                                                That I was afraid of losing my little money, as well as my little time, both which my other pleasures required.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Money, foh —you talk like a little fellow now, do such as we expect money?
                                            Horner
                                                I beg your pardon, Madam, I must confess, I have heard that great Ladies, like great Merchants, set but the higher prizes upon what they have, because they are not in necessity of taking the first offer.
                                            Dainty
                                                Such as we, make sale of our hearts?
                                            Squeamish
                                                We brib'd for our Love? Foh.
                                            Horner
                                                With your pardon, Ladies, I know, like great men in Offices, you seem to exact flattery and attendance only from your Followers, but you have receivers about you, and such fees to pay, a man is afraid to pass your Grants; besides we must let you win at Cards, or we lose your hearts; and if you make an assignation, 'tis at a Goldsmiths, Jewellers, or China house, where for your Honour, you deposit to him, he must pawn his, to the punctual Citt, and so paying for what you take up, pays for what he takes up.
                                            Dainty
                                                Wou'd you not have us assur'd of our Gallants Love?
                                            Squeamish
                                                For Love is better known by Liberality, than by Jealousie.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
For one may be dissembled, the other not—but my Jealousie can be no longer dissembled, and they are telling ripe:
Aside.
94
Come here's to our Gallants in waiting, whom we must name, and I'll begin, this is my false Rogue.
Claps him on the back.
                                            Squeamish
                                                How!
                                            Horner
                                                So all will out now —
                                            Squeamish
                                                
Did you not tell me, 'twas for my sake only, you reported your self no man?
Aside to Horner.
                                            Dainty
                                                
Oh Wretch! did you not swear to me, 'twas for my Love, and Honour, you pass'd for that thing you do?
Aside to Horner.
                                            Horner
                                                So, so.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Come, speak Ladies, this is my false Villain.
                                            Squeamish
                                                And mine too.
                                            Dainty
                                                And mine.
                                            Horner
                                                Well then, you are all three my false Rogues too, and there's an end on't.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Well then, there's no remedy, Sister Sharers, let us not fall out, but have a care of our Honour; though we get no Presents, no Jewels of him, we are savers of our Honour, the Jewel of most value and use, which shines yet to the world unsuspected, though it be counterfeit.
                                            Horner
                                                Nay, and is e'en as good, as if it were true, provided the world think so; for Honour, like Beauty now, only depends on the opinion of others.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                Well Harry Common, I hope you can be true to three, swear, but 'tis no purpose, to require your Oath; for you are as often forsworn, as you swear to new women.
                                            Horner
                                                
Come, faith Madam, let us e'en pardon one another, for all the difference I find betwixt we men, and you women, we forswear our selves at the beginning of an Amour, you, as long as it lasts.
Enter Sir Jaspar Fidget, and old Lady Squeamish.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Oh my Lady
Fidget, was this your cunning, to come to Mr.
Horner
without me; but you have been no where else I hope.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
No, Sir
Jaspar.
                                            Old Lady Squeamish
                                                And you came straight hither Biddy.
                                            Squeamish
                                                Yes indeed, Lady Grandmother.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
'Tis well, 'tis well, I knew when once they were throughly acquainted with poor
Horner, they'd ne'er be from him; you may let her masquerade it with my Wife, and
Horner, and I warrant her Reputation safe.
Enter Boy.
                                            Boy.
                                                O Sir, here's the Gentleman come, whom you bid me not suffer to come up, without giving you notice, with a Lady too, and other Gentlemen —
                                            Horner
                                                
Do you all go in there, whil'st I send 'em away, and Boy, do you desire 'em to stay below 'til I come, which shall be immediately.
Exeunt Sir Jaspar, Old Lady Squeamish, Lady Fidget, Mistriss Dainty, Squeamish.
                                            Boy.
                                                
Yes Sir.
Exit.
Exit Horner at t'other door, and returns with Mistress Pinchwife.
                                            Horner
                                                You wou'd not take my advice to be gone home, before your Husband came back, he'll now discover all, yet pray my Dearest be perswaded to go home, and leave the rest to my management, I'll let you down the back way.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                I don't know the way home, so I don't.
                                            Horner
                                                My man shall wait upon you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                No, don't you believe, that I'll go at all; what are you weary of me already?
                                            Horner
                                                No my life, 'tis that I may love you long, 'tis to secure my love, and your Reputation with your husband, he'll never receive you again else.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                What care I, d'ye think to frighten me with that? I don't intend to go to him again; you shall be my Husband now.
                                            Horner
                                                I cannot be your Husband, Dearest, since you are married to him.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
O wou'd you make me believe that —don't I see every day at
London
here, women leave their first Husbands, and go, and live with other mens their Wives, pish, pshaw, you'd make me angry, but that I love you so mainly.
                                            Horner
                                                
So, they are coming up —In again,
Exit Mistris Pinchwife.
in, I hear 'em: Well, a silly Mistriss, is like a weak place, soon got, soon lost a man has scarce time for plunder; she betrays her Husband, first to her Gallant, and then her Gallant, to her Husband.
Enter Pinchwife, Alithea, Harcourt, Sparkish, Lucy, and a Parson.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come Madam, 'tis not the sudden change of your dress, the confidence of your asseverations, and your false witness there, shall perswade me, I did not bring you hither, just now; here's my witness, who cannot deny it, since you must be confronted —Mr.
Horner, did not I bring this Lady to you just now?
                                            Horner
                                                
Now must I wrong one woman for anothers sake, but that's no new thing with me; for in these cases I am still on the criminal's side, against the innocent.
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                Pray, speak Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                
It must be so —I must be impudent, and try my luck, impudence uses to be too hard for truth.
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What, you are studying an evasion, or excuse for her, speak Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                
It must be so —I must be impudent, and try my luck, impudence uses to be too hard for truth.
Aside.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What, you are studying an evasion, or excuse for her, speak Sir.
                                            Horner
                                                No faith, I am something backward only, to speak in womens affairs or disputes.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                She bids you speak.
                                            Alithea
                                                Ay, pray Sir do, pray satisfie him,
                                            Horner
                                                Then truly, you did bring that Lady to me just now,
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                O ho —
                                            Alithea
                                                How Sir —
                                            Harcourt
                                                
How,
Horner!
                                            Alithea
                                                What mean you Sir, I always took you for a man of Honour?
                                            Horner
                                                
Ay, so much a man of Honour, that I must save my Mistriss, I thank you, come what will on't.
Aside.
                                            Sparkish
                                                So if I had had her, she'd have made me believe, the Moon had been made of a Christmans pye.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
Now cou'd I speak, if I durst, and solve the Riddle, who am the Author of it.
Aside.
                                            Alithea
                                                O unfortunate Woman! a combination against my Honour, which most concerns me now, because you share in my disgrace, Sir, and it is your censure which I must now suffer, that troubles me, not theirs.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Madam, then have no trouble, you shall now see 'tis possible for me to love too, without being jealous, I will not only believe your innocence my self, but make all the world believe it —
Horner
I must now be concern'd for this Ladies Honour.
Apart to Horner.
                                            Horner
                                                And I must be concern'd for a Ladies Honour too.
                                            Harcourt
                                                This Lady has her Honour, and I will protect it.
                                            Horner
                                                My Lady has not her Honour, but has given it me to keep, and will preserve it.
                                            Harcourt
                                                I understand you not.
                                            Horner
                                                I wou'd not have you.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
What's the matter with 'em all.
Mistress Pinchwife peeping in behind.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Come, come, Mr.
Horner, no more disputing. here's the Parson, I brought him not in vain.
                                            Horner
                                                No Sir, I'll employ him, if this Lady please.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                How, what d'ye mean?
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ay, what does he mean?
                                            Horner
                                                Why, I have resign'd your Sister to him, he has my consent.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
But he has not mine Sir, a womans injur'd Honour, no more than a man's, can be repair'd or satisfied by any, but him that first wrong'd it; and you shall marry her presently, or —
Lays his hand on his Sword.
Enter to them Mistress Pinchwife.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
O Lord, they'll kill poor Mr.
Horner, besides he shan't marry her, whilest I stand by, and look on, I'll not lose my second Husband so.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                What do I see.
                                            Alithea
                                                My Sister in my cloaths!
                                            Sparkish
                                                Ha!
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Nay, pray now don't quarrel about finding work
98
for the Parson, he shall marry me to Mr.
Horner; for now I believe, you have enough of me.
To Mr. Pinchwife.
                                            Horner
                                                Damn'd, damn'd loving Changeling.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Pray Sister, pardon me for telling so many lyes of you.
                                            Harcourt
                                                I suppose the Riddle is plain now.
                                            Lucy
                                                
No, that must be my work, good Sir, hear me.
Kneels to Mr. Pinchwife, who stands doggedly, with his hat over his eyes.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
I will never hear woman again, but make 'em all silent, thus —
Offers to draw upon his Wife.
                                            Horner
                                                No, that must not be.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
You then shall go first, 'tis all one to me.
Offers to draw on Horner; stopt by Harcourt.
                                            Harcourt
                                                
Hold —
Enter Sir Jaspar Fidget, Lady Fidget, Lady Squeamish, Mrs. Dainty Fidget, Mrs. Squeamish.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                What's the matter, what's the matter, pray what's the matter Sir, I beseech you communicate Sir.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                Why my Wife has communicated Sir, as your Wife may have done too Sir, if she knows him Sir —
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Pshaw, with him, ha, ha, he.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                D'ye mock me Sir, a Cuckold is a kind of a wild Beast, have a care Sir —
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
No sure, you mock me Sir —he cuckold you! it can't be, ha, ha, he, why I'll tell you Sir.
Offers to whisper.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I tell you again, he has whor'd my Wife, and yours too, if he knows her, and all the women he comes near; 'tis not his dissembling, his hypocrisie can wheedle me.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                How does he dissemble, is he a Hypocrite? nay then —how —Wife —Sister is he an Hypocrite?
                                            Old Lady Squeamish
                                                An Hypocrite, a dissembler, speak young Harlotry, speak how?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Nay then —O my head too —O thou libinous Lady!
                                            Old La. Speamish
                                                O thou Harloting, Harlotry, hast thou don't then?
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Speak good
Horner, art thou a dissembler, a Rogue? hast thou —
                                            Horner
                                                Soh —
                                            Lucy.
                                                
I'll fetch you off, and her too, if she will but hold her tongue.
Apart to Horner
                                            Horner
                                                
Canst thou? I'll give thee —
Apart to Lucy
                                            Lucy to Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Pray have but patience to hear me Sir, who am the unfortunate cause of all this confusion, your Wife is innocent, I only culpable; for I put her upon telling you all these lyes, concerning my Mistress, in order to breaking off the match, betweem Mr.
Sparkish
and her, to make way for Mr.
Harcourt.
                                            Sparkish
                                                Did you so eternal Rotten-tooth, then it seems my Mistress was not false to me, I was only deceiv'd by you, brother that shou'd have been, now an of conduct, who is a frank person now, to bring your Wife to her Lover — ha —
                                            Lucy.
                                                
I assure you Sir, she came not to Mr.
Horner
out of love, for she loves him no more —
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Hold, I told lyes for you, but you shall tell none for me, for I do love Mr.
Horner
with all my soul, and no body shall say me nay; pray don't you go to make poor Mr.
Horner
believe to the contrary, 'tis spitefully done of you, I'm sure.
                                            Horner
                                                
Peace, Dear Ideot.
Aside to Mrs. Pinchwife
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                Nay, I will not peace.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Not 'til I make you.
Enter Dorilant, Quack.
                                            Dorilant
                                                
Horner
your Servant, I am the Doctors Guest, he must excuse our intrusion.
                                            Quack.
                                                But what's the matter Gentlemen, for Heavens sake, what's the matter?
                                            Horner
                                                
Oh 'tis well you are come—'tis a censorious world we live in, you may have brought me a reprieve, or else I
100
had died for a crime, I never committed, and these innocent Ladies had suffer'd with me, therefore pray satisfie these worthy, honourable, jealous Gentlemen —that —
Whispers.
                                            Quack.
                                                
O I understand you, is that all —Sir
Jaspar, by heavens and upon the word of a Physician Sir, —
Whispers to Sir Jasper.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                Nay I do believe you truly —pardon me my virtuous Lady, and dear of honour.
                                            Old Lady Squeamish
                                                What then all's right again.
                                            Sir Jaspar
                                                
Ay, ay, and now let us satisfie him too.
They whisper with Mr. Pinchwife
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                An Eunuch! pray no fooling with me.
                                            Quack.
                                                I'le bring half the Chirurgions in Town to swear it.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                They —they'l sweare a man that bled to death through his wounds died of an Apoplexy.
                                            Quack.
                                                Pray hear me Sir —why all the Town has heard the report of him.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But does all the Town believe it.
                                            Quack.
                                                Pray inquire a little, and first of all these.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                I'm sure when I left the Town he was the lewdest fellow in't.
                                            Quack.
                                                
I tell you Sir he has been in
France
since, pray ask but these Ladies and Gentlemen, your friend Mr.
Dorilant, Gentlemen and Ladies, han't you all heard the late sad report of poor Mr.
Horner.
                                            All Ladies
                                                Ay, ay, ay.
                                            Dorilant
                                                Why thou jealous Fool do'st thou doubt it, he's an errant French Capon.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
'Tis false Sir, you shall not disparage poor Mr.
Horner, for to my certain knowledge —
                                            Lucy.
                                                O hold —
                                            Squeamish
                                                
Stop her mouth —
Aside to Lucy.
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
Upon my honour Sir, 'tis as true.
To Pinchwife
                                            Dainty
                                                D'y think we would have been seen in his company —
                                            Squeamish
                                                Trust our unspotted reputations with him!
                                            Lady Fidget
                                                
This you get, and we too, by trusting your
101
secret to a fool —
Aside to Horner
                                            Horner
                                                
Peace Madam, —well Doctor is not this a good design that carryes a man on unsuspected, and brings him off safe. —
Aside to Quack.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                
Well, if this were true, but my Wife —
Aside
Dorilant whispers with Mrs. Pinchwife
                                            Alithea
                                                Come Brother your Wife is yet innocent you see, but have a care of too strong an imagination, least like an overconcern'd timerous Gamester by fancying an unlucky cast it should come, Women and Fortune are truest still to those that trust 'em.
                                            Lucy.
                                                And any wild thing grows but the more fierce and hungry for being kept up, and more dangerous to the Keeper.
                                            Alithea
                                                
There's doctrine for all Husbands Mr.
Harcourt.
                                            Harcourt
                                                I edifie Madam so much, that I am impatient till I am one.
                                            Dorilant
                                                And I edifie so much by example I will never be one.
                                            Sparkish
                                                And because I will not disparage my parts I'le ne're be one.
                                            Horner
                                                And I alass can't be one.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                But I must be one —against my will to a Country-Wife, with a Country murrainmurrainmurraina disease, mostly in cattle and other livestock. to me.
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
And I must be a Country Wife still too I find, for I can't like a City one, be rid of my musty Husband and doe what I list.
Aside.
                                            Horner
                                                Now Sir I must pronounce your Wife Innocent, though I blush whilst I do it, and I am the only man by her now expos'd to shame, which I will straight drown in Wine, as you shall you suspicion, and the Ladies troubles we'l divert with a Ballet, Doctor where are your Maskers.
                                            Lucy.
                                                
Indeed she's Innocent Sir, I am her witness, and her end of coming out was but to see her Sisters Wedding, and what she has said to your face of her love to Mr.
Horner
was but the usual innocent revenge on a Husbands jealousie, was it not Madam speak —
                                            Mrs. Pinchwife
                                                
Since you'l have me tell more lyes —
Aside to Lucy and Horner.
102
Yes indeed Budd.
                                            Mr. Pinchwife
                                                For my own sake fain I wou'd all believe.Cuckolds like Lovers shou'd themselves deceive.
But
—
sighs
His honour is least safe, (too late I find)Who trusts it with a foolish Wife or Friend.
                                            Horner
                                                Vain Fopps, but court, and dress, and keep a puther,To pass for Womens men, with one another.But he who aimes by women to be priz'd,First by the men you see must be despis'd.
                                            Now you the Vigorous, who dayly hereO're Vizard-Mask, in publick domineer,And what you'd doe to her if in Place where;Nay have the confidence, to cry come out,Yet when she says lead on, you are not stout;But to your well-drest Brother straight turn roundAnd cry, Pox on her Ned, she can't be sound:Then slink away, a fresh one to ingage,With so much seeming heat and loving Rage,You'd frighten listning Actress on the Stage:Till she at last seen you huffing come,And talk of keeping in the Tyreing-Room,Yet cannot be provok'd to lead her home:
Next you
Fallstaffs
of fifty, who beset
Your Buckram Maidenheads, which your friends get;And whilst to them, you of atchievements boast,They share the booty, and laugh at your cost,In fine, you Essens't Boyes, both Old and Young,Who wou'd be thought so eager, brisk, and strong,Yet do the Ladies, not their Husbands, wrong:Whose Purses for your manhood make excuse,And keep your Flanders Mares for shew, not use;Encourag'd by our Womans Man to day,A Horners part may vainly think to Play;And may Intreagues so bashfully disownThat they may doubted be by few or none,May kiss the Cards at Picquet, Hombre, —Lu,And so be thought to kiss the Lady too;But Gallants, have a care faith, what you do.The World, which to no man his due will give,You by experience know you can deceive,And men may still believe you Vigorous,
But then we
Women, —there's no cous'ning us.