The Fine Lady's Airs (1709)

by Thomas Baker

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter Mrs. Lovejoy.

Mrs. Lov. Here do I follow and caress my Lady, in hopes to steal a Spark 'mongst her Admirers; I have five hundred Pounds in the fourteen per Cent, a Gentlewoman's Fortune in past Ages, but now 'twon't buy a Haberdasher of small Ware. Sir Harry offers me a genteel Settlement; Time was, when a kept Madam elbow'd the whole Drawing-Room; but now we have a virtuous Court agen, a Lord's Mistress is almost as despicable as a Citizen's Wife.—Suppose I trick the Collonel into Marriage—To bridle at a Review in Hyde-Park, have rich Plunder brought me from Flanders, and boast in Company how much my Husband ballances the Pow'r of Europe; but then comes Peace, and Half-pay, and the Brigadier's Lady must condescend to dress Heads, make Mantoes, or vainly feed her Pride, by personating what she really was on the most renown'd Drury-Lane Theatre.—Suppose I rail at the Government, and so trap the rich Major; but then he's trapt in a Plot, some poor Lord begs his Estate, and I'm to live upon the mighty Comfort of having it again when the Pretender comes—Or what if I wheedle in with Mr. Nick-nack—To have a fine House in Billiter-Lane, prodigious great Dinners, and ready Cash for Play. And, faith, now-a-days, a rich Merchant's Wife keeps as late Hours, Games as high, and makes as bulky a Figure as e'er a Dutchess in the two united Kingdoms.

Enter Sir Harry.

Sir Har. How kind this was, my dear, pretty Mrs. Lovejoy, to leave so much good Company to meet me here alone.

Mrs. Lov. How kind you are to your self Sir Harry, in harbouring so ridiculous a Notion.

Sir Har. Are you resolv'd then, Madam, to let this gay, this proper well-set Person o' mine pine away like a green Sickness Girl, when I have so generously offer'd you two hundred Pound a Year, only to be a little whimsical with you.

Mrs. Lov. Two hundred a year! wou'd you make a Whore of me Sir Harry?

Sir Har. A Whore! have a care, Child, who you reflect upon, a Lady of two hundred a Year, a Whore; Whores are Creatures that wear Pattens and Straw-hats. I'd fain hear any body call a kept Mistress, Whore, while there's Law to be had, if I were she, I'd make 'em severely pay for't.

Mrs. Lov. But pray, Sir Harry, where's the Difference between a common Woman, and one that's kept; they have equally lost their Reputation, and no body of any Character will visit 'em.

Sir Har. Visit 'em! Ladies of different Orders shou'd converse amongst themselves, I know a Set of kept Mistresses that visit one another with all the Ceremony of Countesses, take place of one another according to the Degree of their Keepers, are call'd to one another's Labours, and live in perfect Sister-hood like the Grand Seignor's Seraglio; two of 'em indeed had a violent Quarrel t'other day, but 'twas only about State Affairs, one happening to be a Whig, and t'other a Tory.

Mrs. Lov. Good Sir Harry, what have you seen so loose in my Behaviour to attack me at this rate?

Sir Har. Why, look you, Child, do'st thee consider what an Income two hundred a Year is; some Country Gentlemen han't more to make their Elder Sons Esquires, and raise Portions for eleven awkard Daughters. Besides, my Dear, thou art but a whiffling sort of a Pinnace, I have been proffer'd lovely, large, First Rate Ladies for half the Mony. There's Winny Wag-tail in Channel Row, wou'd have left it to my Generosity; Mrs. Tippet the Furrier's Wife in Walbrook wou'd have taken five hundred Pound down, and Sufan Sigh-fort the quaking Sempstress had n't the Assurance to ask me above the rent of her Shop.——I must tell you, Love, the Nation's over stock'd with Women, I can have a hundred and fifty Furbuloe Scarf-makers for as many Silver Thimbles; and but last Long Vacation, a very considerable Pleader offer'd me his two Daughters for Six and Eight Pence a Night.

Mrs. Lov. Sir Harry, this Discourse suits not my Genius, I have a Fortune, tho' not thousands enough to keep me from that odious thing you'd tempt me to; therefore if you pursue this Humour any farther, I must acquaint my Lady with it.

Sir Har. Why, then, Madam, do I most devoutly pray to Venus there, and
each kind Creature here, that the Men may avoid you, as if you had n't a
Lure about you, that for madness you may turn Gam'ster, lose all your
Fortune at Play, and then grow crooked for want of Mony to buy you a new
Pair of Stayes. [Exit.

Mrs. Lov. Was ever any thing so impudent! he's a charming Fellow tho', and two hundred a Year is a charming Allowance too.—But Virtue! Virtue!— Oh! that I had liv'd in good King Some-body's Days.

Enter Major Bramble.

Bra. Madam Lovejoy, your most humble Servant, here's a Ring that was pawn'd to me for twenty Guineas by a Welch Knight, on his being chose High Sheriff o'the County, and the Mony not being paid in due time, it's become forfeited; I therefore entreat the Favour of you to wear it.

Mrs. Lov. Your very humble Servant, Major, they are delicate Stones indeed; but what Service must I do you in return of so great a Compliment?

Bra. Only that, Madam, of being my Advocate to Lady Rodomont, whose Beauty I have long admir'd, and whose Estate I do profoundly reverence. [Aside.] Nor can I on a just survey of my Person and Parts find the least Obstacle, why her Inclinations shou'd n't mount like mine, that without much Ceremony or foppish Courtship, we might unite Circumstances, and astonish the World at the Sight of a couple so prodigiously well pair'd.

Mrs. Lov. Were my Fortune, Major, equal to my Lady's, my Judgment wou'd be as much admir'd in such a Choice as my Happiness wou'd be envy'd; but my Lady's of so uncommon a cold Constitution so whimsically gay, and fond of new Diversions, she laughs at ev'ry serious Thought of Love.

Bra. Perhaps, Madam, my Lady never had an Offer worth her serious Notice, the Fops a course chatter and teaze the Women, but when great Statesmen condescend to Love, and while they Court, Affairs of State stand still; a Lady shou'd be proud of such an Offer; what Woman wou'd not think her self most highly honour'd to have an amorous Judge approach her with his Tipstaff.

Mrs. Lov. Ay, Major, to have the State stand still, as if a Woman were of mightier Moment wou'd sooth a Lady's Pride, 'twou'd be so pretty to adjourn the Parliament when their Mistresses send for 'em to Picquet; and were my Lady sensible how vast an Honour you design her, she certainly wou'd own an equal Passion.

Bra. [Aside] I profess a very ingenious Woman, and cou'd I but be satisfy'd, she were entirely in the French Int'rest, I I wou'd prefer her to Madam Maintenon's Cabinet Council, to consult about the next Invasion.

Enter Nicknack.

Nic. Oh! Mrs. Lovejoy, I have been hurry'd quite out of my Senses, three more Ships are sail'd in upon me this Morning; the Atlas Merchant Man, Captain Sunburnt Commander from the East Indies, the Dighton Gally from the musty Islands, and the Hankerchief Frigot from Smirna.

Mrs. Lov. Pray, Mr. Nicknack, when's the Sale?

Nic. Now, now, Madam, and the fat India Women from all Parts o'the Town do croud and scold like a Parcel of Fish-Wives at a Mackrel-Boat—Mrs. Trapes in Leadenhall Street is hawling away the Umbrellas for the walking Gentry, Mrs. Kanister in Hatton Garden, buys up all the course Bohee-Tea for the Holborn Ladies Breakfasts, and Mrs. Furnish at St. James's has order'd Lots of Fans, and China, and India Pictures to be set by for her, 'till she can borrow Mony to pay for 'em.——But, Madam, I ha' brought you a couple of the prettiest Parrokeets, and the charming'st Monkey for my Lady that ever was seen; a Coster-monger's Wife kiss'd it, burst into Tears, and said, 'Twas so like an only Child she had just bury'd. I thought the poor Woman wou'd ha' swoon'd away.

Mrs. Lov. Thank you good Mr. Nicknack.

Nick. But, Madam, have you told my Lady, what a violent Inflammation I have about her?

Mrs. Lov. She's now at Cards with the Collonel, and next to the new Monkey you'll be the welcom'st Creature alive to her.—Sweet Major excuse me, for I must run to my dear Parrokeets. [Exit.

Bra. Prithee, Friend, what Beau-maggot has thy Pericranium lately bred to give thee pretensions to Lady Rodomont?

Nick. And pray, Major; what prejudice have the Ladies done you, that you shou'd revenge it by offering 'em your disagreeable self? For he that murmus at so good a Queen, must certainly be disaffected to the whole Sex.

Bra. Do'st thou imagine a Woman of sense that has seen he great Court of France, and visited Madam de Trollop, Madam de Frippery, and Madam de Twangdillion, where Ladies are great Politicians, and talk of Ramparts, Bastions, and Aqueducts will prefer thy Parrots and Jack-daws to a Man of Politicks, whom the Prince of Conti consulted about the Kingdom of Poland. Monsieur Chamillard about the late Invasion.

Nick. I can't suppose, Major, a Lady of her Intellects, will fling her self away on a Grumbletonian, to have her Estate confiscated, receive Visits in the Gate-house, when her Husband's clapt up for Treason, and afterwards quarrel with the Heralds about the length of her Veil, when her Spouse made his Exit at Tyburn.

Bra. Why ha'st thou the assurance to despise Heroes that die in a State Cause, St. Charnock, and St. Gregg; these were Men that made a noise i'the World, whose Names are in ev'ry News Paper, and let the Cause be what it will, I honour People that make a noise in the World.—But prithee, Mr. Nicknack, what makes you Citizens that spring from a little Counting-house, up three Steps at the further End of a dark Ware-house, attempt Women o'Quality?

Nick. Why, Sir, I can settle Threescore Thousand Pounds upon her.

Bra. Settle Threescore Thousand Pounds upon her;—Wou'd you buy a Wife as you do Scamony and Cocheneal by Inch of Candle? If I were a Woman, I shou'd hate the sound of an Inch of Candle. I'll settle Major Bramble upon her, an inestimable Jewel, and if she has no more sense than to refuse me; for a Chocolate-house, Jelley Eater, she has travell'd to as little improvement, as some other Beau Ladies, that admire the Agility of the French, before the Stability of the Swiss Cantons; therefore you may go tire her with your Monkey tricks, to give her a true relish of my more weighty Arguments.—In the mean time, I'll step to the Tow'r, to congratulate the safe Arrival of some very great Persons out of Scotland. [Exit.

Nick. Now has this old Fellow the vanity to think his Person and
Qualities are as acceptable to a fine Woman as if he had been bred at
Court; but Asses will herd and bray amongst the fair Kine, like a knot of
Stock-jobbing Jews that crowd Garraways Coffee-house, and fright away us
Beau Merchants with the stink of Bread and Cheese Snuff. [Exit.

SCENE Changes to Covent-Garden.

Enter Matter Totty, and Shrimp.

Tot. Lord! Lord! What a hugeous Place this London is? I thank you heartily, Sir, for taking Care of me; for I shou'd ha' quite lost my self, and then, perhaps, some strange Person might ha' taken me up, and ha' kept me; but what makes People in such a hurry here, as if at Lincoln, the Mayor and Aldermen were going to a Bull-baiting; at other times Folks in the Country walk more slowly, as tho' they were going to Church.

Shr. London, Master, is the Seat of Business, People do ev'ry thing in a hurry here, except paying their Debts, and lying with their Wives; but what Notion had you of the Town before you saw it?

Tot. Why, my Grand-mother says, Tis the wicked'st Place under the Copes of Heav'n, and the Filthinesses she has seen there, have made her frigid to Mankind; she says, young Fellows are greedy after young Wenches, and make a scoff at old Folks; Men of Quality have no sense of well-doing, and Women o'Quality no sense of Self-denial; your highflown Gentry, no sense of Humility, and the Common People no sense of good Manners; mid-night Collonels, no sense of Sobriety; Vintners no sense of Honesty; City Wives, no sense of Chastity, and their Husbands, no sense at all.

Shr. You are deceiv'd, Master, People come hither for Education and Improvement: Ev'ry Merchant's Prentice now assumes an air of Wisdom, talks of Gaming, Dress, and Poetry; frequents the Hazard-Table at Lambeth, the Bowling-Green at Islington, and keeps a Race-Horse for Hackney-Marsh; has a Silver Watch double gilt, Pearl colour Silk Stockings, and a black Suit for Lent, with a couple of Drop-Locks hanging up in the Counting-house, which are occasionally hook'd on to a Spruce-Bob to Squire two Chamber-Maids to the Rival Queens.

Tot. But do People obey their Parents in London?

Shr. Never, never, Master, this is an Age of Freedom and good Humour; Fathers tope Claret with their Sons, and Mothers Rosa Solis with their Daughters; they Rake together, Intreague together, divide Estates, and persue their Inclinations; Familiarity makes young Fellows easie, and old Fellows have the happiness to live out all their Days.

Tot. O Gemini that's pure! well I always had a mighty mind to see London, because my Grand-mother would never let me; and d'you belong to Sir Harry Sprightly, say you, Sir?

Shr. I do my self the Honour to sojourn with him; Sir Harry Compliments me with adjusting some Solecisms in his Dress; we were Neighbour's Children in the Country, and always very fond of one another, he begg'd the Favour of me to meet you at the Inn, give you some refreshment, and conduct you to his Lodgings;—Oh! Here comes a Friend o'mine lately return'd from Flanders, that will be glad to associate with us; he's a Person of great Worth, I assure you, and might have had great Preferments in the Army; but his good Manners, like some other well-bred military Sparks, made him rather retreat than put himself forward.

Enter Knapsack.

Mr. Knapsack, your most humble Servant, an ingenious young Gentleman here, just arriv'd from the Fenns in Lincolnshire, desires to be known to you; he's at present but a rough Diamond wholly ignorant of the Town, but your Conversation will make him Brillant.

Knap. You know my Profession, Mr. Shrimp, and think you can't trespass on my modesty; but your praises are enough to put our whole Regiment out o'countenance, had we not quarter'd in Ireland.—The young Gentleman by his deportment seems to be the Darling of a Family, and Heir to a good Estate.

Tot. I shall have Five Hundred a Year, Sir, when my Grand-mother gives up the Ghost; but at present she allows me but Eighteen Pence a Week for reading the Book of Martyrs to her, copying Receipts, and supporting her about the House.

Shr. Eighteen Pence a Week! Why the Kitchin Wench gets more for her Coney Skins; but what allowance are you to have now, Master, you should have handsome Lodgings in Pall-Mall Tutors to embellish you, dress out for Whites, keep a Chair by the Week, and an impudent Footman to knock down People before you.

Tot. Ay, but my Grand-mother charg'd me on her Blessing never to go to that end o'the Town; she says, they are abominable Spendthrifts there; bid me remember the Prodigal Son, and has given me only a broad Jacobus to pay for Post Letters, and a Hundred Pound Bill upon Sir Francis to put me Clerk to an Attorney.

Shr. Clerk to an Attorney! Why the Nation swarms with 'em; so many young Fellows now are bred to that Profession, Men, and their Wives are forc'd to go to Law to find bus'ness for their Children.

Knap. Hang the Hundred Pounds; we'll spend it, Master, in showing you the Town, the Lyons, and the Tombs, the Bears, and the Morocco's, the Jew's Synagogue, and the Gyants at Guild-hall, my Lord-Mayor's great Coach, and my Lady Mayoress's great Tower.

Tot. Shan't we go to the Play-house too, and see Pinkeman, Bullock, and Jubilee Dicky?

Knap. Ay, and behind the Scenes too amongst the pretty Actresses; I must have you a smart Youth, understand the finish'd Vices o'the Town, learn to swear like a Gentleman of Ten Thousand a Year, few Men of Estates are bred to Conversation, game like a desp'rate younger Brother, several embroider'd Suits are known to live by't, drink abundantly to prevent dull-thinking, and Whore lustily to encourage the Dispensary that gives the poor Physick for nothing. Mr. Shrimp here knows the World; and, I warrant, for cogging a Die, bullying a Coward, bilking a Hackney Coachman, and storming a Nest of Whores in Drury-lane, not a Master of Arts in either University can come near him.

Tot. Fegs, so I will, they shan't think to cow me any longer; one cou'd never stir out o'the Room, but my Grand-mother was purring after a Body, and if she heard one got a little merry at T. Totum, with the Maids, she'd quaver out Totty, come, and say your Catechism;—What is the chief End of Man? And upon ev'ry little Fault, she'd lock me up to get Quarles's Emblems by heart, and threaten I shou'd lie in the great Room that's haunted, and never let one have any other diversion, than to hear the Chaplain play Jumping Joan upon the Base Viol.

Shr. Shall we adjourn to the Rose, the Drawer's my particular Friend, and will give us French Wine for Eighteen Pence a Bottle.

Tot. But lets ha' some Sack, do.

Knap. Ay, and Sugar, my brave Boy, thou shall't have any thing; we'll be merry as mony'd Sailors over a Bowl o'Rum Punch, fluster'd as their Whores, and frolicksom, 'till we have spent all, drink Confusion to all Grand-mothers, and if the old Cat pretends to Ptysick it much longer, we'll get an Act of Parliament to poyson her.

Tot. With all my Heart! they say the Parliament can do any thing. [Exeunt.

SCENE, A Drawing-Room.

Enter the Collonel, and Lady Rodomont rising from Play.

L. Rod. Fling up the Cards, good Collonel, after two Games, the Pleasure becomes a Business; like my Lady Shuffler that gits her living at 'em.

Col. Your Ladyship's a Chymist in Diversions, extracts the quintessence of ev'ry Pleasure, and leaves the drossy Part upon the World; Agreements, when too tedious pall the Fancy, when short they quicken and refine our Appetites; and the sublimest Joy to Mortals known, evaporates the Moment that 'tis tasted.

L. Rod. Variety alone supports dull Life, the light Amusements that connect and change, Spur on the creeping Circle of the Year; I love to humour an unbounded Genius, to give a lose to ev'ry spring of Fancy, to rove, to range, to sport with different Countries, and share the Revels of the Universe.

Col. My Genius fain wou'd Court superiour Blessings; those Passions are too hurrying to last; Vapours that start from a Mercurial Brain, whose wild Chimera's flush the lighter Faculties, which tir'd i'th'vain pursuit of fancy'd Pleasures; a Passion more substantial Courts our Reason, solid, persuasive, elegant, sublime, where ev'ry Sense crowds to the luscious Banquet, and ev'ry nobler Faculty's imploy'd.

L. Rod. That Passion you describe's a sleeping Potion, a lazy, stupid, lethargy of Mind, that nums our Faculties, destroys our Reason, and to our Sex the bane of all Agreements; shou'd I whom Fortune, lavish of her store, has given the means to glut insatiate Wishes, out-vie my Sex, and Lord it o'er Mankind, constrain my rambling Pleasures, check my Liberty for an insipid Cooing sort of Life, which marry'd Fools think Heav'n, and cheat each other.

Col. Are Love and Pleasure, Madam, so incongruous?—Methinks the very name of Love exhilerates; meaner delights were meant but to persuade us, Toys to provoke and heighten our desires, which Love confirms and Crowns with mightier extasie.

L. Rod. Rather all Joys expire, where Love commences; when that deluding Passion once takes root, we grow insensible, ill-bred, intolerable, neglecting Dress and Air, and Conversation; to fondle an odd Wretch, that caus'd our ruin: No, give me the outward Gallantries of Love, the Poetry, the Balls, the Serenades, where I may Laugh and Toy, and humour Apish Cringers, with secret Pride to raise my Sexes Envy, and lead pretending Fops a Faiery Dance.

Col. My own Humour to a Hair! How I admire such generous sprightly Virtue, your Reasoning, Madam, darts amazing brightness, 'where groveling Souls want courage to think freely, ay, Liberty's the Source of all Enjoyments, a nourishing Delight, innate and durable. I love the Harmony of Foreign Courts; your downright English Women are meer Mopes, sit dumb like Clocks that speak but once an Hour, supinely Grave and insolently Sullen, nor Smile but on good terms to Laugh, at us for Life: But other Climates animate more warmly; Sexes alike are free, reciprocally gay, and Pleasures are persu'd without Reflection, if Principle or Fear refuse us Love; for I'm the tenderest of a Lady's Honour, the Fair One still has tantalizing Charms, her tuneful Voice, her graceful, easie Movement, her lively Converse, happy turn of Thought, Language polite, keen Wit, fineness of Argument, but Marriage turns the Edge of all Society.

L. Rod. Pray, Collonel, how long have you taken up this Resolution?

Col. I doat upon the Sex, admire their heav'nly Form, like beauteous Temples built by sacred Hands, where their bright Souls as Deities inhabit; but shou'd Love's Queen, Celestial Citharea, descend in all her elegance of Beauty, the study'd Care of the officious Graces, with Wreaths of Jewels glittering round her Temples, her flowing Locks dispos'd in artful Circles, losely attir'd, and on a Down of Roses, with laughing Cupids hov'ring round the Bed.—

L. Rod. But Collonel.

Col A wondrous lovely Mien, kind melting Airs, soft snowy Breasts that pant with am'rous Sighs, Eyes lauguishing that steal forth welcome glances; Cheeks rip'ning, glowing, kindling, ravishing.

To be confin'd, wou'd deaden all her Charms, And Matrimony fright me from her Arms.

L. Rod. Good Collonel check a while this feign'd Career; for in describing her you wou'd refuse, you're in a Rapture, and quite out of Breath; don't depend too much on your fancy'd Prowess, some mortal Dames, less beauteous than a Goddess, have exercis'd and tam'd the boldest Heroes.

Enter Mrs. Lovejoy.

Mrs. Lov. Madam, the Countess of Circumference, my Lady May-pole, and my Lady Bob-tail are just lighting at the Gate.

L. Rod. Pray sup with me Collonel, and lets finish this Argument, I'm fond of disputing with a Person that talks well.

Col. [aside ] She's peek'd, and my design must prove successful.

Pride keeps me off, but Nature smooths my way; For what her Tongue wou'd hide, her Eyes betray.

[Exit.

L. Rod. Cozen, did you ever hear the like? The Collonel's such an
Enemy to Marriage?

Mrs. Lov. An Enemy to Marriage, Madam!

L. Rod. As obstinately bent against it, as if he were incapable of Love; not that his Principles concern me, yet such Heresy in Men shou'd be subdu'd.

Mrs. Lov. Perhaps, Madam, the Collonel may have had some strange misfortune in the Army, Cannon Bullets fly at such an ugly random rate.

L. Rod. Ha, ha, ha, how I laugh at such thin Disguises, as if a ratling Officer in this fortune-hunting Age, cou'd have Philosophy to slight my Person and Estate; but I'll applaud his happy choice of Liberty; say, 'tis a generous Thought, so like my self, I'll settle a Platonick Friendship with him, then faulter in my Speech, and seem confus'd, as if my Sexes weakness must discover a Passion which my haughty Soul wou'd hide. The greedy Collonel catches at the Bait, deep Sighs, and sheepish Looks confess the Lover; then with what sparkling Pride I'll boast my Power, bravely assert my wonted Resolutions, rally the blustering Heroe, and pursue new Conquests.

As the Sun's early Beams attract and warm,
So Ladies with their easie glances Charm;
Vain Coxcombs cringe with transport and surprize,
Feel kindling Fire, and feed upon their Eyes;
'Till like the Sun, the dazling Nymphs display
Meridian heat, and scorch the Fools away.

End of the Third ACT.

ACT IV. SCENE continues.

Lady Rodomont, and Mrs. Lovejoy.

Mrs. Lov. Why, Madam, shou'd your Ladyship keep so many Fellows in suspence, is it only to mortifie other Women, and maintain the Vanity of being universally admir'd; you won't marry, and yet love to be courted: In other matters your Ladiship's gen'rous enough, but as for parting with your Lovers, you are as stingy as the Widow Scrape-all, that lets out her Mourning-Coach to Funerals.

La. Rod. Cozen, we're alone, and I'll discover t' you the Soul of ev'ry Woman: Vanity is the predominant Passion in our Sex, what Lady that has Beauty, Wit and Fortune, does not excel in Dress, brighten in Talk, and dazle in her Equipage; and Lovers are but Servants out o' Liveries: Who then that has Attractions to command, to sooth, to frown, to manage as we please, wou'd raise those crawling Wretches that adore us, that fawn and sigh, and catch at ev'ry Glance, but once embolden'd, as our Courage fails us, the flatt'ring Knaves exert their Sovereign Sway, and crush the darling Pow'r we possess.

Mrs. Lov. 'Tis their Prerogative to rule at last, our Reign is short, because 'tis too Tyrannical; we're pleas'd to have Admirers gaze upon us, they're pleas'd with gazing, 'cause they cannot help it; but yet they think us strange fantastick Creatures, and curse themselves for loving such vain Toys; for my part, I'm for ballancing the pow'r of both Sexes, if a fine Gentleman addresses a fine Lady, his Reception ought to be suitable to his Merit, and when two fine People get together—

La. Rod. What then?

Mrs. Lov. They ought to lay aside Affectation and Impertinence, and come to a right understanding i' th' matter.

La. Rod. But prithee, my Dear, what fine Things d'you conceive there are in Love?

Mrs. Lov. I wou'd conceive what fine Things there are in Love; in short, Madam, you may dissemble like the French Hugonots, that were starving in their own Country, and pretended to fly hither for Religion: But I that have the same Circulations with your Ladiship, know that ev'ry Woman feels a Je ne sçay quoy for an agreeable Fellow; nay more, that Love is irresistable; how many Fortunes have marry'd Troopers, and Yeomen o'the Guard? We are all made of the same Mould; nay I heard of a Lady that was so violently scorcht at the sight of a handsome Waterman, she flung her self sprawling into the Thames, only that he might stretch out his Oar, and take her up again.

La. Rod. There are Women Fools to a strange degree; but have you,
Cousin, seen any Object so amiable to merit that ridiculous Condescension.

Mrs. Lov. I have seen a great many young Fellows, Madam, and do ev'ry Day see more young Fellows that I cou'd like very well to play at Piquet with; and if your Ladiship has sworn to die a Maid, recommend one of your Admirers to me, and it shan't be my Fault, if in a few Months I don't produce you a very pretty Bantling to inherit your Estate.

Enter Major Bramble.

Bram. (Aside.) Now must I screw my self into more submissive Forms than a hungry Poet at the lower end of a Lord's Table, when he has more Wit than all the Company; muster up more Lies than are told behind a Cheapside-Counter, and talk to her of Agues, Agonies and Agitations, when I have no more Notion of Love, than a Lawyer has of the next World: Her Estate indeed wou'd put a Man into a Conflagration, but a fine Woman is to me like a fine Race-Horse, admir'd only by Fools, very costly, very wanton, and very apt to run away—Madam, your Ladiship's incomparable Perfections, which are as much talk'd of, as if they had been publish'd in the Flying-Post, Post-Boy, and Post-Man, have stirr'd up all my Faculties to admire, ev'ry Part about you, and to tell you the Ambition I have of being your Ladiship's most devoted, humble Servant at Bed and Board.

La. Rod. A Man of your Character, Major, is seldom touch'd with a
Lady's Perfections; our trifling Beauties soften weaker Mortals, you Men
that bustle about publick Matters, whose fiery Souls are charm'd with
Broils of State, retain no mighty Transports for our Sex.

Bram. True, Madam, Love's but an insipid Business; but I wou'd marry to keep up that fiery Breed; and your Ladyship having a more sublime Genius than the rest of your Sex, I thought you the properest Person to apply to, that with equal Pains-taking we may produce a Race of Alexanders, that shall rattle thro' the World like a Peal of Thunder, wage Wars, destroy Cities, and send old Women headlong to the Devil.

La. Rod. I mould rather chuse a peaceful Race, whose Virtue shou'd prefer 'em to the State, where Wisdom, like a Goddess, sits triumphant, to awe, to charm, to punish and reward, and check the Fury of such headstrong Coursers.

Bram. A Race of Side-Box-Beaus, that love soft easie Chairs, Down-Beds, and taudry Night-Gowns; I admire those renown'd Emperors, that chop Peoples Heads off for their Diversion, and the glorious King of France, that makes his Family Kings whenever he pleases; that gives People yearly Pensions to bellow out his praise; whose Edicts fly about like Squibs and Crackers, and as much laughs at Parliaments and Councils, as a Whore of Distinction does at the Reforming-Society.

La. Rod. Such Princes are meant Scourges to the Earth; no Mortal's fit for absolute Command; Men have their Passions; Monarchs are but Men, and when Love, Jealousie, or Fear possess 'em, the Tyrants spurn, and rack their guiltless People, who tamely bend, and court their fatal Madness; our happy Realm knows no Despotick Sway; not only Kingdoms here, but Hearts unite, the Sov'reign and the Subjects bless each other; a Constitution so divinely fram'd; such gen'rous Concord, such resistless Harmony, that Nature wonders at her own Perfections; a Climate and a People so serene!

Bram. Look you, Madam, I'm no more an Enemy to the Government than to your Ladiship: Your Ladiship has a good Estate, Estate, and your Person is mightily dish'd out, fine and lovely and plump, therefore if your Ladyship thinks fit to marry me, and the Government to give me a Place of a Thousand a Year, I'm an humble Servant to both, otherwise I wou'dn't care three Whiffs o' Tobacco, if the Government sunk, and your Ladiship were blown up in the Clouds.

La. Rod. Plain-dealing, Major, ought to be inestimable, especially in a Statesman, but you needn't give your self any trouble about me, you're not a Creature tame enough for a Husband: The Lion that's us'd to range the Woods, if once ensnar'd, grows ten times more outragious. What think you, Cousin, shou'd we entangle the Major.

Mrs. Lov. We must never come near him, Madam, for I'm afraid he'll devour us all.

Bram. Devour you all, Mrs. Oatcake, a Man must be damnable hungry to feed upon your Chitterlings. [Aside.] Now have I a good mind to hire two or three honest Fellows to swear her into a Plot, have her Estate confiscated to the Government, and get a Reward of half of it for so serviceable a piece of Loyalty and Revenge; but to mortifie her more compleatly, I'll go make my Addresses to the Divine Lady Toss-up. [Exit.

Enter Nicknack.

Nick. [Aside.] Were it not to improve my Int'rest with the Ladies, I wou'd forswear all manner of Bus'ness, and grow perfectly idle, like a Dancing-Master's Brains. I have been squeez'd up at the Custom-House, 'mongst Jews, Swedes, Danes, and dirty Dutchmen, that were entering Hung-Beef, 'till I'm only fit to tread Billingsgate-Key, and address those shrill Ladies, whose Italian Voices ev'ry Day charm the Streets with the deaf'ning Harmony of Place, Flounders, and New-Castle-Salmon—I was afraid, Madam, having not seen your Ladiship these four Hours, you had quite forgot me.

La. Rod. That's impossible, Mr. Nicknack, I never see the pretty Monkey you brought me, but I have the strongest Idea of you imaginable; but have you imported no greater Curiosities, a Monkey of one sort or other is what most People have in their Houses. I'd have a Ship range the World on purpose to find me out some agreeable strange Creature, that was never heard of before, nor is ever to be met with again.

Nick. A Creature, Madam, which some People think unparallell'd, it may be in my, Pow'r to help your Ladiship to, but 'tis a sort of Creature that's always sighing for a Mate, if your Ladiship likes it as well as some other Ladies have done; if I know the Creature, 'twou'd laugh and toy, and kiss and fawn upon your Ladiship beyond all Womankind.

La. Rod. Pray, Mr. Nicknack, what Species is it of?

Nick. Of Humane Species, Madam, your Ladiship shall examine it, but the Ladies turn it into what shape they please, an Ape, an Ass, a Lizard, a Squirrel, a Spaniel; most People say 'tis a Man, but the Merchant that brought it from the Cyprian Groves, calls it a Desponding Lover.

La. Rod. A Desponding Lover, Mr. Nicknack, is indeed a very strange Creature, but 'tis no Rarity, I'm pester'd with 'em at all Seasons, they are continually intruding like one's poor Relations, more pragmatically impertinent than one's Chaplain, and, were it possible, as impudent as one's Footmen.

Nick. But a sincere and constant Lover your Ladiship must allow a Rarity.

La. Rod. [Aside.] I must humour this Fellow's Vanity; he'll make an admirable Tool to plague the Collonel—I understand you, Mr. Nicknack, you have so pretty a way of discovering your self, 'twou'd charm any Lady, and truly I see no difference between a Gentleman educated at Merchant-Taylor's-School, and one at Fobert's; only at our end o'the Town, there's a certain Forwardness in young Fellows, that a Boy of Fourteen shall pretend to practise before he understands the Rule of Three. But what you tell me is a thing of that weight, it requires mature Deliberation, a Conflict with one's self of a whole Age's debating: Marriage, 'mongst the vulgar sort, is a Joke, a meer May-Game; with People of Rank, a serious and well study'd Solemnity.

Nick. Nay, Madam, I'm in no very great haste, I am perfectly of your Ladyship's Opinion, and can't think there's so mighty a Jest in Matrimony as some People imagine; like a Country Fellow and a Wench, that will jig it into Church after a blind Fidler, and are never in a dancing Humour afterwards. People o' Quality are more apprehensive o' the matter, and have a world o' business to do, we must first be seen particular together, to give suspicion, and create Jealousies 'mongst the rest of your Admirers; then it must be whisper'd to the Countess of Intelligence, to carry about Town, or the Tea-Tables will drop for want of Tittle-tattle; and afterwards your Ladyship's absolutely denying it, confirms ev'ry body in the truth of it: As for Cloaths, Equipage and Furniture, they are soon got ready, and if your Ladiship dislikes living i'the City, we'll take a House at Mile-End.

La. Rod. The City, Mr. Nicknack, A very considerable Place! I have had noble Suppers there. Suppers dress'd at Russel's in Ironmonger-lane, and have brought away Fifty Guineas at Basset, when at this end o'the Town I have lost three times Fifty for a sneaking Dish of Chocolate. People too may talk of their want of Sense, but the suppressing Bartl'mew-Fair was a thing of that wondrous Consultation, it shews the Citizens have prodigious Head-pieces.

Nick. Your Ladiship has a just Notion of the City. I have read sev'ral Acts of Common Council, that have really a world of Wit in 'em; but I'm afraid, Madam, Collonel Blenheim has so far ingratiated himself with your Ladiship, I shall have a troublesome Rival to deal with.

La. Rod. Not in the least, I admitted him only as a Visitant, but at present I must be more particular with him; he's of late grown a little irreverent towards our Sex, and I must check an insolent Humour he has got of despising Matrimony; he'll be with me instantly, I'll dispose you, that you may over-hear all, how I'll turn and wind him, cross him, humour him, and confound him; when you think it proper make your Appearance, and we'll both laugh at him.

Nick. If your Ladiship pleases, I had rather laugh in my Sleeve, for those blustering Officers, that are us'd to destroy whole Batallions, make no more of murdering one Man, than an Alderman does of eating up a single Turkey.

La. Rod. Never fear him, Mr. Nicknack.

Nick. Nay, Madam, I have been Collonel i'th'Train-Bands these seven Years, and therefore ought not to want Courage; and tho' I never learnt to fence, there's an admirable Master teaches three times a Week, at the Swan Tavern in Cornhil. [Exeunt.

Mrs. Lov. Now will I be Spitchcockt, if she han't an Inclination for the Collonel, to coquet, and flirt and fleer, and plague half Mankind, only because they like her, may be what you call a fine Lady, but in my mind she has more fantastical Airs than a Kettle-Drummer. [Exit.

SCENE, a Room in the Rose-Tavern.

The Bell rings.

[Bar-keeper without.] Where a Pox are you all; must Company wait an Hour for a Room?

[A noise of Drawers.] Coming, coming, coming, Sir.

Enter a Drawer with Lights, Shrimp, Knapsack, and Master Totty.

Draw. Please to be here, Gentlemen?

Shr. What's become of your Beau-Drawer, that wore a long Spanish Wig, lac'd Linnen, silk Stockings, and a Patch?

Draw. He happen'd, Sir, to make bold with a silver Monteth, and is gone for a Soldier—What Wine are you for Gentlemen?

Shr. [Aside to the Drawer.] D'you know Sir Harry Sprightly, Friend?

Draw. Yes, Sir.

Shr. What Wine does he drink?

Draw. Three and Six-penny, Sir.

Shr. I am his Servant, draw us the same.

Tot. Bring me some Sack. [Exit Drawer.

Shr. Well, Master, what think you of London now, is not the rattling of Coaches, the ringing of Bells, and the joyful Cry of Great and good News from Holland, preferrable to the Country, where you see nothing but Barns and Cow-houses, hear nothing but the grunting of Swine, and converse with nothing but the Justice, the Jack-daw, and your old Grand-mother.

Tot. Ay, marry is it, and if they ever get me there again, I'll give 'em leave to pickle and preserve me; here are Drums and Trumpets, Soldiers and Sempstresses, and fine Sights in ev'ry Street: In the Country we are glad to go four Miles to see a House o'fire. Nay, wou'd you believe it, we ha'n't so much as a Tavern in our Town; Gentlemen are forc'd to use Gammer Grimes's Thatch'd Ale-house, except the Curate be with 'em, and then they smoke, and drink in the Vestry.

[Drawer enters with Wine.

Knap. Come, Master, here's my hearty Service t'you.

Tott. Your hearty Servant thanks you, Sir—Mr. Shrimp, here's the Respects of a Gudgeon t'you.

Shr. Ah! you're an arch Wag.

Tott. But, pray, Mr. Shrimp, where may a body buy a little Wit, my Grand-mother charg'd me to get some; and, she says, bought Wit's best; 'tis a mighty scarce Commodity i'the Country; we have above two hundred Gentlemen near us that never heard on't. Our Chaplain has a little, but they say 'tis n't the right sort.

Shr. Mr. Knapsack can furnish you with five or ten Pounds worth when you please.

Knap. Mr. Shrimp, Master, has a much better Stock, but that you may n't think I engross it to my self, as they say Bull does Coffee, what I have is at your Service.

Tott. Sir, my Service t'you again, [drinks] This is much better than Lincoln Ale, fegs.

Knap. What think you now, Master, of a pretty Wench to towze a little?

Tott. He, he, he, [grins] I don't know what you mean, Sir.

Knap. Had you never any pleasant Thoughts o'the Fair Sex.

Tott. I never lay with any Body but my Grand-mother; when she was in a good humour, she'd tickle a Body sometimes, but if she never meddl'd mith me, I never meddl'd with her.

Knap. A sapless old Hen, you might as well have lain with a Paring-Shovel; but what think you of a young Woman, that's warm, tender and inviting.

Shr. By this Light, here's Betty the Orange Woman from the Play-house.

Enter Betty. [They rise

Bett. Ah! you Devils are you here, why did n't you come into the Pit to night, and eat an Orange,—who have you got with you, by my lost Maidenhead, a meer Country Widgeon, you sly Toads will bubble him finely; let me go snacks, or I'll discover it. Come, Fellows, drink about; positively it's very cold, fitting so behind at the Box Doors.

Shr. Honest Betty, here's Success to thee in ev'ry thing.

Bett. Ay, Faith, but there's little to do this Winter yet, now the Officers are come over, I hope, to have full Trade; I have had but one poor Shilling giv'n me to Night, and that was for carrying a Note from a Baronet in the Side Box to a Citizens Wife in the Gall'ry; but there was no harm in't, 'twas only to treat with her here by and by, about borrowing a hundred Pound of her Husband upon the Reversion of a Parsonage. [To Knap.] Red Coat your Inclinations. [To Tott.] Sir, prosperity t'you, you are got into hopeful Company.

Tott. Thank you, Mrs. Betty.

Shr. Prithee Betty give us a Song.

Bett. A Song, Pigsneyes, why, I have been roaring all Night with Six Temple Rakes at the Dog and Partridge Tavern in Wild-street, and am so hoarse I cou'd not sing a Line, were the whole Town to subscribe for me.

Knap. Take t'other Glass, Betty.

Bett. T'other Glass, Fellow, by the Bishop of Munster, these Puppies have a Design upon me! but give it me, however, for all that know me, know I never baulk my Glass.

Shr. But the Song, the Song, Betty. [She Sings

SONG.

I.

How happy are we,
Who from Virtue are free,
That curbing Disease of the Mind,
Can indulge ev'ry Taste,
Love where we like best,
Not by dull Reputation confin'd.

II.

When were Young, fit to toy,
Gay Delights we enjoy,
And have Crouds of new Lovers wooing;
When were old and decay'd,
We procure for the Trade,
Still in ev'ry Age we are doing.

III.

If a Cully we meet,
We spend what we get
Ev'ry Day, for the next never think,
When we die, where we go,
We have no Sense to know,
For a Bawd always dies in drink.

Bett. [Aside to Shrimp.] Hark'e, Satan, where did you pick up this modest Youth; does he bleed?

Shr. Oh! abundantly.

Bett. That's well, dress him up, and send him to Will's Coffee-House and he'll soon grow impudent. [To Tott.] My dear, eat this Orange, and gi'me Half a Crown.

Tott. Half a Crown for an Orange! I can buy one in the Country for two Pence.

Bett. So you may in Town, lovely Swain, but ev'ry Smock I put upon my Back costs me nine Shillings an Ell.

Knap. But tell us, Betty, what Intrigues are going forward, your publick Post brings you into a world of private Business, d'you know ever an amorous Lady that would present me with a hundred Guineas to oblige her?

Bett. Thee, Child, Lord starve thee, a Foot Soldier! one o'the Infantry, a Lady that's Fool enough to pay for her Pleasures, may provide her self better out o' the Guards.—Come, gi'me t'other Bumper, nothing's to be got here, I find, and I must run.

Shr. Why in such hast, Betty?

Bett. Haste, Creature, why the Fourth Act is just done, and t'other bold Beast will run away with all the Money.

Knap. Hark'e, Bess, don't stroddle over Peoples Backs so as you us'd to do.

Bett. Why, how now, Mr. Impudence, I think we do 'em too great an Honour, and whoever affronts me for it I'll have him kick'd as soon as the Play's over. [Exit.

Shr. Come, my dear Boy, let's tope it about briskly; what think you of this Lass? is she not frank and free? If you had her in a Corner, she'd show you the way to Lyme-house.

Tott. Are all your London Women like her? Our Country Wenches are as Cross with treading upon Nettles; there's Margery our Dairy-Maid, I only offer'd to feel her Bubbies, and she hit me a dowse o'the Jaws enough to beat down a Stack o' Chimneys.

Shr. We'll carry you to a Lady, Master, that shall stifle you with Kindness, as pretty a piece of Wild-fowl as paddles about Covent Garden; but you'll tip her a Guinea, her Lodgings are extremely fine; and you must know a first Floor comes very dear.

Knap. She's a Gentlewoman too, I'll assure you, her Father was hang'd in Monmonth's Time, wears as rich Cloaths as any Body, and never puts on the same Suit twice.

Tot. O Gemini, I long to see her; pray, Mr. Knapsack, lets go; but what shall I treat her with, boil'd Fowls and Oysters.

Knap. Something that's very nice, she's mighty dainty at Supper; but her constant Breakfast is a Red-Herring, and a quartern o' Geneva. [Exeunt.

SCENE Changes to Lady Rodomonts.

Lady Rodomont and the Collonel discover'd.

L. Rod. Well, Collonel, now what think you of our Sex? Is there no Nymph so sovereignly bright, whole matchless Beauty, Virtue, Wit and Fortune you'd charm your rambling. Thoughts and chain you to her?

Coll. The Goddess you describe, you too well know her wond'rous Brightness, her commanding Excellence, where ev'ry Star seems glitt'ring in her Person, and ev'ry Science cultivates her Mind; no Swain but kindles at her vast Perfections, Sighs at her Feet, and trembles to approach her; but then a baneful Mischief thwarts our Transports, and while we feast us with luxuriant Gazing, that bug-bear Marriage rises like a Storm, clouds ev'ery Beauty, blackens with approaching, and frights away the gen'rous faithful Lover.

L. Rod. You talk of Love with an unusual Warmth, you seem to feel it too, and talk with Pleasure; and yet strange wand'ring Notions teaze your Fancy, whose vain Allurements tantalize your Reason, and force you from the Happiness you wish for. He that loves truly, loves without reserve; the Object is the Centre of his Wishes, but your wild Sex that hurry after Pleasure, whose headstrong Passions kindle ev'ry moment, admire each Nymph, and eager to possess, you burn, you rage, and talk in tragick Strains: But when the easy Maid believes, and blesses, when once you ha' rifl'd, ravish'd and enjoy'd, ungratefully you slight the yielding Charmer; your Love boil'd o'er descends to cold Indifference, and a regardless Look rewards her Favours; were I inclin'd to wave my Resolutions, and yield my self a Victim to Love's Pow'r, were I to chuse a Man by Fortune slighted, and raise him to a more than common Affluence; such is the Temper of your graceless Sex, there's not a Cottage Swain that proves sincere.

Coll. Cou'd you then, Madam, condescend to love, and cou'd a Lover manifest his Passion, by constant waiting, vigilant Observance, by sacerdotal Plights, and Faith inviolate, wou'd you prove kind, and take him to your Arms.

L. Rod. Of things impossible we lightly talk; if such a Man were found, perhaps, I might.

Coll. Cherish that Thought; believe there is that Man; believe you see him now; observe him well.

L. Rod. Ha!

Coll. Read from his Eyes his passionate Concern, his flattering Hopes, his anxious killing Fears; examine ev'ry Symptom, feel his Tremblings, search to his Heart, and there find Truth unblemish'd; approve his Flame, and nourish it with Favours.

L. Rod. Have I caught you, Collonel; is this the Sum of all your
Self-sufficiency, your Matrimonial Hate, and boasted Liberty. [Aside.]
His Merits probably may vie with any, but sure he last shou'd hope a
Lady's Graces, who saucily arraigns her Sex's Pow'r.

Enter Nicknack.

Mr. Nicknack, I have a Miracle to tell you, the Collonel from a blustering, ranting Heroe is dwindl'd to a panting, pining Lover; talks in blank Verse, and Sighs in mournful postures: He the fam'd Pyramus, and I bright Thisbe.

Nic. I thought, Madam, the Collonel had been a profess'd Marriage-hater.

L. Rod. Mr. Nicknack, we'll divert our selves at Picquet. When you recover, Collonel, from this Lethargy, you'll play a Pool with us; Ladies admit all sorts to lose their Mony. [Exit Lady Rod. and Nick.

Coll. I have plaid a fine Card truly, now shall I be number'd with those doating Fools, her Pride encourages, then Jilts, and laughs at. She's fair, but, oh! the Treachery of her Sex.

Enter Sir Harry.

Sir Har. My dear Collonel, prithee why so pensive? I have had the pleasantest Adventure this Afternoon, going to the Bank to receive Mony; in Pater-Noster-Row I saw two of the loveliest Sempstresses the Trade e'er countenanc'd; I went into the Shop, struck up a Bargain, whipt over to the Castle, where we eat four Crabs, top'd six Bottles, skuttl'd up and down, kiss'd, towz'd and tumbl'd 'till we broke ev'ry Chair in the Room. But you are so engag'd with Lady Rodomont, your Company's a Blessing unattainable.

Coll. Yes, I have been engag'd, and finely treated. The Syren with her false deluding Arts, her Force of Words and seeming to comply, has drawn me to declare my Passion for her; now rallies and despises all I said, and hugs her self in baffling my Design.

Sir Har. 'Tis like her Sex, they will ha' their Jades Tricks, but never mind 'em; we'll to the Tavern and consult new Measures: Our Perseverance is beyond their Policy.

The started Hare may frisk it o'er the Plain,
And the staunch Hound long trace her Steps in vain,
Swiftly she flies, then stops, turns back and views, }
Doubles, and quats, and her lost Strength renews, }
But tho' unseen, he still the Scent persues, }
'Till breathless to a fatal Period brought,
The Hound o'ertakes her, and poor Puss is caught.

The End of the Fourth ACT.