MR. GAYWIT. Where you have no business, it seems.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Impertinent! Modern, your servant.
SCENE XI.
LORD RICHLY, MRS. MODERN.
LORD RICHLY. I only waited till you were alone, madam — to renew my business.
MRS. MODERN. If you intend to renew your impertinence, I wish you would omit both.
LORD RICHLY. So, I find I have my work to do over again.
MRS. MODERN. But if you please, my lord, to truce with your proposals, and let Piquet be the word.
LORD RICHLY. So, you have taken money out of my daughter’s hands, to put it into mine.
MRS. MODERN. Be not confident — I have been too hard for you before now.
LORD RICHLY. Well, and without a compliment, I know none whom I would sooner lose to than yourself; for to any one who loves play as well as you, and plays as ill, the money we lose, by a surprising ill fortune, is only lent.
MRS. MODERN. Methinks, my lord, you should be fearful of deterring me by this plain dealing.
LORD RICHLY. I am better acquainted with your sex. It is as impossible to persuade a woman that she plays ill, as that she looks ill. The one may make her tear her cards, and the other break her looking-glass.
Her want of skill, for want of luck must pass;
As want of beauty’s owing to her glass.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Continues.
LORD RICHLY, MRS. MODERN.
MRS. MODERN. Can you be so cruel?
LORD RICHLY. Ridiculous! you might as well ask me for my whole estate; I am sure I would as soon give it you.
MRS. MODERN. An everlasting curse attend the cards! to be repiqued from forty, when I played but for five! my lord, I believe you a cheat.
LORD RICHLY. At your service, madam — when you have more money, if you will honour me with notice, I will be ready to receive it.
MRS. MODERN. Stay, my lord — give me the twenty guineas.
LORD RICHLY. On my conditions.
MRS. MODERN. Any conditions.
LORD RICHLY. Then you must contrive, some way or other, a meeting between me and Mrs. Bellamant, at your house.
MRS. MODERN. Mrs. Bellamant!
LORD RICHLY. Why do you start at that name?
MRS. MODERN. She has the reputation of the strictest virtue of any woman in town.
LORD RICHLY. Virtue! ha, ha, ha! so have you, and so have several of my acquaintance; there are as few women who have not the reputation of virtue as that have the thing itself.
MRS. MODERN. And what do you propose by meeting her here?
LORD RICHLY. I am too civil to tell you plainly what I propose; though by your question one would imagine you expected it.
MRS. MODERN. I expect anything from you, rather than civility, my lord.
LORD RICHLY. Madam, it will be your own fault, if I am not civil to you. Do this for me, and I’ll deny you nothing.
MRS. MODERN. There is one thing which tempts me more than your gold, which is the expectation of seeing you desert her, as you have done me.
LORD RICHLY. Which is a pleasure you’ll certainly have: and the sooner you compass my wishes, the sooner you may triumph in your own; nay, there is a third motive will charm thee, my dear Hillaria, more than the other two. When I have laid this passion, which hath abated that for you, I may return to your arms with all my former fondness.
MRS. MODERN. Excuse my incredulity, my lord; for, though love can change its object, it can never return to the same again.
LORD RICHLY. I may convince you of the contrary — but to our business; fortune has declared on our side already, by sending Bellamant hither: cultivate an acquaintance with him, and you cannot avoid being acquainted with his wife. She is the perfect shadow of her husband; they arc as inseparable as Lady Coquette and her lap-dog.
MRS. MODERN. Yes, or as her ladyship and her impertinence; or her lap-dog and his smell. Well, it is to me surprising, how women of fashion can carry husbands, children, and lap-dogs about with them; three things I never could be fond of.
LORD RICHLY. If the ladies were not fonder of their lapdogs than of their husbands, we should have no more dogs in ST. James’s parish than there are lions at the Tower.
MRS. MODERN. It is an uncommon bravery in you to single out the woman who is reputed to be the fondest of her husband.
LORD RICHLY. She that is fond of one man may be fond of another. Fondness, in a woman’s temper, like the love of play, may prefer one man, and one game; but will incline her to try more, especially when she expects greater profit, and there, I am sure, I am superior to my rival: if flattery will allure her, or riches tempt her, she shall be mine; and those are the two great gates by which the devil enters the heart of womankind — Psha! He here! —
SCENE II.
LORD RICHLY, MR. MODERN, MRS. MODERN.
MR. MODERN. I am your lordship’s most obedient humble servant.
LORD RICHLY. Have you seen this new opera, madam?
MRS. MODERN. I have heard vast commendations of it; but I cannot bear an opera, now poor La Dovi’s gone.
LORD RICHLY. Nor I, after poor A la Fama.
MRS. MODERN. Oh! Cara la Dovi! I protest I have often resolved to follow her into Italy.
LORD RICHLY. You will allow A la Fama’s voice, I hope.
MRS. MODERN. But the mien of La Dovi, then her judgment in singing; the moment she entered the stage I have wished myself all eyes.
LORD RICHLY. And the moment A la Fama sung I have wished myself all ears.
MR. MODERN. I find I am no desired part of this company. I hope your lordship will pardon me; business of the greatest consequence, requiring my attendance, prevents my waiting on your lordship according to my desires.
SCENE III.
LORD RICHLY, MRS. MODERN.
LORD RICHLY. This unseasonable interruption has quite cut the thread of my design. Pox on him, a husband, like the fool in a play, is of no use but to cause confusion.
MRS. MODERN. You would have an opportunity at my house, and to procure it, I must be acquainted with Mrs. Bellamant; now, there is a lucky accident which you are not apprized of — Mrs. Bellamant is an humble servant of mine.
LORD BICHLY. That is lucky, indeed; could we give her a cause of suspicion that way, it were a lively prospect of my success, as persuading a thief that his companion is false is the surest way to make him so.
MRS. MODERN. A very pretty comparison of your lordship’s between the two states.
Enter SERVANT.
SERVANT. Madam, Mr. Bellamant desires to know if your ladyship is at home.
MRS. MODERN. I am. Bring him into the dining-room.
LORD RICHLY. Thou dear creature, let me but succeed in this affair, I’ll give three millions.
MRS. MODERN. More gold, and fewer promises, my lord.
LORD RICHLY. A hundred guineas shall be the price of our first interview.
MRS. MODERN. Be punctual, and be confident. Go out the back way, that he may not see you.
LORD RICHLY. Adieu, my Machiavil.
SCENE IV
MRS. BELLAMANT’S House.
MRS. BELLAMANT, MR. GAYWIT, EMILIA.
MRS. BELLAMANT. And so, Lady Willitt, after all her protestations against matrimony, has at last generously bestowed herself on a young fellow with no fortune, the famous beau Smirk.
EMILIA. She was proof against every thing but charity.
MR. GAYWIT. To which all other virtues should be sacrificed, as it is the greatest; the ladies are apt to value themselves on their virtue; as a rich citizen does on his purse; and I do not know which is of the greatest use to the public.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Nor I, which are the oftenest bankrupts.
MR. GAYWIT. And as, in the city, they suspect a man who is ostentatious of his riches; so should I the woman who makes the most noise of her virtue.
MRS. BELLAMANT. We are all the least solicitous about perfections, which we are well assured of our possessin
g. Flattery is never so agreeable as to our blind side. Commend a fool for his wit, or a knave for his honesty, and they will receive you into their bosoms.
EMILIA. Nay, I have known a pretty lady who was vain of nothing but her false locks; and have seen a pair of squinting eyes that never smiled at a compliment made to any other feature.
MR. GAYWIT. Yes, madam, and I know a pretty gentleman who obliges me very often with his ill-spent songs; and a very ugly poet, who hath made me a present of his picture.
EMILIA. Well, since you see it is so agreeable to flatter one’s blind side, I think you have no excuse to compliment on the other.
MR. GAYWIT. Then I shall have a very good excuse to make you no compliment at all. But this I assure you, Emilia, the first imperfection I discover, I will tell you of it with the utmost sincerity.
EMILIA. And I assure you, with the utmost sincerity, I shall not thank you for it.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Then, without any flattery, you are two of the most open plain-dealers I have met with.
SCENE V.
MRS. BELLAMANT, EMILIA, LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT, MR. GAYWIT.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Dear Mrs. Bellamant, make some excuse for me; I see Emilia is going to chide me for staying so long. When did she know the fatigue I had this afternoon — I was just going into my coach when Lady Twitter came in, and forced me away to a fan-shop. Well, I have seen a set of the prettiest fans to-day My dear creature, where did you get that lace? I never saw any thing so ravishing.
EMILIA. I cannot see any thing so extraordinary in it.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. It could not cost less than ten pound a yard — Oh! Mr. Gaywit, are you here?
EMILIA. He goes with us to the play.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Oh hateful! how can you bear him? I would as soon to the chapel with Lady Prue: I saw the ridiculous creature cry at a tragedy.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Do you think he need be ashamed of that, Lady Charlotte?
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. I would as soon laugh at a comedy, or fall asleep at an opera.
MRS. BELLAMANT. What is the play to-night?
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. I never know that. Miss Rattle and I saw four acts the other night, and came away without knowing the name. I think, one only goes to see the company, and there will be a great deal to-night: for the Duchess of Simpleton sent to me this morning. Emilia you must go with me after the play: I must make just fourteen visits between nine and ten: yesterday was the first payment I have made since I came to town, and I was able to compass no more than three and forty; though I only found my Lady Sober at home, and she was at Quadrille — Lud, Mrs. Bellamant, I think you have left off play, which is to me surprising, when you played so very well.
MRS. BELLAMANT. And yet I believe you hardly ever saw me win.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. I never mind whether I win or no, if I make no mistakes.
MR. GAYWIT. Which you never fail of doing as often as you play.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Do you hear him?
EMILIA. Oh! he sets up for a plain-dealer, that is, one who shows his wit at the expense of his breeding.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Yes, and at the expense of his truth.
EMILIA. Never mind him, Lady Charlotte, you will have the town on your side.
MR. GAYWIT. Yes, they will all speak for you that play against you.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. This is downright insupportable.
SCENE VI.
MRS. BELLAMANT, EMILIA, MR. GAYWIT, LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT, CAPTAIN BELLAMANT.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Oh! here’s Captain Bellamant shall be my voucher.
CAPTAIN BELLAMANT. That you may be assured of. Lady Charlotte, for I have so implicit a faith in your ladyship, that I know you are in the right before you speak.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Mr. Gaywit does not allow me to play at Quadrille.
CAPTAIN BELLAMANT. He may as well deny that your ladyship sees; besides, I do not lay a great deal of weight on his judgment, whom I never saw play at all.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Oh! abominable! then he does not live at all. I wish my whole life was one party at Quadrille.
CAPTAIN BELLAMANT. AS a Spaniard’s is a game at chess, egad.
MRS. BELLAMANT. I never intend to sacrifice my time entirely to play, till I can get no one to keep me company for nothing.
MR. GAYWIT. Right, madam, I think the votaries to gaming should be such as want helps for conversation: and none should have always cards in their hands, but those who have nothing but the weather in their mouths.
MRS. BELLAMANT. Thus gaming would be of service to the public of wit, by taking away the encouragers of nonsense; as a war is of service to a nation, by taking the idle people out of it.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Intolerable! Mrs. Bellamant an advocate against play?
SCENE VII.
LORD RICHLY, MR. GAYWIT, CAPTAIN BELLAMANT, LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT, EMILIA, MRS. BELLAMANT.
LORD RICHLY. Who is an advocate against play?
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Mrs. Bellamant, my lord.
LORD RICHLY. She is grown a perfect deserter from the Beau Monde: she has declared herself against Mr. Crambo too.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Against dear Mr. Crambo!
MRS. BELLAMANT. I am only for indulging reason in our entertainments, my lord. I must own, when I see a polite audience pleased at seeing Bedlam on the stage, I cannot forbear thinking them fit for no other place. Lord Richly. NOW, I am never entertained better.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Nor I. Oh, dear Bedlam! I have gone there once a week for a long time: I am charmed with those delightful creatures the kings and the queens.
CAPTAIN BELLAMANT. And your ladyship has contributed abundance of lovers, all kings, no doubt: for he that could have the boldness to attempt you, might with much less madness dream of a throne.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Well, I should like to be a queen. I fancy, ‘tis very pretty to be a queen.
CAPTAIN BELLAMANT. Were I a king, Lady Charlotte, you should have your wish.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Ay, but then I must have you too. — I would not have an odious, filthy, he-creature for the world.
MR. GAYWIT. Faith, you cannot easily find any who is less of the he-creature. [Aside.
EMILIA. But, Lady Charlotte, we shall be too late for the play.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. I believe the first act is over, so we’ll go. I don’t believe I ever saw the first act of a play in my life — but do you think I’ll suffer you in my coach?
MR. GAYWIT. At least, you’ll suffer me to put this lady into it.
CAPTAIN BELLAMANT. And me to put your ladyship in.
LADY CHARLOTTE GAYWIT. Dear Mrs. Bellamant, your humble servant.
LORD RICHLY. Shall I have the honour, in the mean time, of entertaining you at piquet?
MRS. BELLAMANT. Your lordship has such a vast advantage over me —
LORD RICHLY. None in the least: but if you think so, madam, I’ll give you what points you please.
MRS. BELLAMANT. For one party, then, my lord. — Get cards there — Your lordship will excuse me a moment.
LORD RICHLY. Charming woman! and thou art mine, as surely as I wish thee — Let me see — she goes into the country in a fortnight — Now, if I compass my affair in a day or two, I shall be weary of her by that time, and her journey will be the most agreeable thing that can happen.
SCENE VIII
MRS. MODERN’S House.
MRS. MODERN, MR. BELLAMANT.
MRS. MODERN. Is it not barbarous, nay, mean, to upbraid me with what nothing but the last necessity could have made me ask of you?
MR. BELLAMANT. You wrong me, I lament my own necessities, not upbraid yours. My misfortune is too public for you not to be acquainted with it; and what restrains me from supporting the pleasures of the best wife in the world, may, I think, justly excuse me from supporting those of a mistress.
MRS. MODERN. Do you insult me with your wife’s virtue? You! who have robbed me of mine? — yet Heaven will
, I hope, forgive me this first slip; and if henceforth I ever listen to the Siren persuasions of your false ungrateful sex, may I —
MR. BELLAMANT. But hear me, madam.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 283
