MILLAMOUR. Pshaw! — in jest.
YOUNG MUTABLE. Hum, I take matrimony to be no jest.
MILLAMOUR. And I take it to be the greatest jest in nature. When the old gentleman comes, Heartfort, do you take him to your house, which must pass for my Lord Truelove’s; thither will I bring the lady with the utmost expedition. But remember to give a particular order to all your servants that your name is Truelove.
HEARTFORT. If you would have me stay with you, in the meantime, I must have no lords. Kay, I will not allow you a baronet. Not even a plain Sir, though he was but knighted last week, and hath not paid his fees yet.
YOUNG MUTABLE. Well, well, you shall be humoured, though I am at work for your service.
SCENE III
STEDFAST’S House.
CLARINDA, MRS. USEFUL.
CLARINDA. To leave my husband’s house on my weddingday? And visit a gallant? I’ll never consent to it —
MRS. USEFUL. Then there’s a pretty fellow gone to his forefathers.
CLARINDA. No, tell the barbarous man, undone as he is, I would have consented to any other portion with him than dishonour. Tell him he hath forced me to the fatal resolution I have taken; for, to avoid him was my first cause of marrying; and tell him in that hour I gave my hand to Mr. Stedfast I resolved never to see him more.
MRS. USEFUL. The devil take me if I do. You may send another messenger. I’ll have no hand in his death. I always had a natural antipathy to murder — Poor dear, pretty, handsome young fellow — Go — you are a cruel ereature! — Oh! had you seen how he sighed, and sobbed, and groaned, and kissed your letter, and called you by all the tenderest, softest names; then shed such a shower of tears upon the paper; then kissed it again, and swore he had lost his soul in you — Oh! it would have melted rocks, could they have seen it.
CLARINDA. Why wilt thou torment me to no purpose?
MRS. USEFUL. It is your own fault if it be to no purpose.
CLARINDA. What can I do?
MRS. USEFUL. What can you do? — that any woman after eighteen should ask that question — What can you do? Methinks charity should tell you, if your heart was not deaf to every thing that is good. When a fine handsome young fellow is the beggar, what woman can want charity?
CLARINDA. I have no more to give — My all is now my husband’s; nor can I, without injuring him, bestow —
MRS. USEFUL. Your husband! — You are enough to make me mad — Injure your husband! — You may as well think you injure your chest when you take the money out of it — And would you be locked up all your life in that old fusty chest, the arms of your husband?
CLARINDA. Ha! Doth it become thee to rail against my husband, who hast employed all thy vile rhetoric to persuade me to receive him?
MRS. USEFUL. To receive him as a husband I did, — and I now persuade you to make a husband of him.
CLARINDA. Oh, villain! What hath urged thee to use me as thou dost? Didst thou not first entice me to leave my convent, and fly to England with that monster Millamour? — And then didst thou not, with the same diligence, intreat me to this marriage? And now —
MRS. USEFUL. What allegations are here? I own I advised yon to quit a religion I thought not consistent with the health of your soul, and to fly to the arms of a man I thought loved you. When I thought he did not love you, I advised you to leave him — And now I find he does love you, I advise you to return to him again.
CLARINDA. What! with the loss of my honour?
MRS. USEFUL. The loss of your honour! No, no — You may keep your honour still; for every woman hath it till she is discovered.
CLARINDA. Name it to me no more.
MRS. USEFUL. At least you may see him — there’s no dishonour in that.
CLARINDA. I dare not think of it.
MRS. USEFUL. E’en do it without thinking of it — Let the poor man owe the continuing of his life to my entreaties.
CLARINDA. Oh! he hath a more powerful advocate within me.
MRS. USEFUL. Well — I’ll fly with the happy news.
CLARINDA. Stay — I cannot resolve.
MRS. USEFUL. That’s enough — She, that can’t resolve against her lover, always resolves for him.
CLARINDA. Well — I will take one dear last draught of ruin from his eyes — And then bid them farewell forever.
SCENE IV
The Street.
CHARLOTTE [disguised.] Here am I fairly escaped from my father’s house — And now, what to do, or whither to go, I know not. If I return, I know the positiveness and passionateness of his temper too well to leave me any hopes of avoiding the match he is resolved on — If I do not, I dread the consequences. Suppose I find Millamour out, and acquaint him with my passion — I’ll die sooner — If Heartfort were here this moment, I believe I should not refuse him any longer — Ah!
SCENE V.
MILLAMOUR, CHARLOTTE.
MILLAMOUR. Pox on my rashness in discharging the good mother this morning — I shall never be able to find Lucina — I must get another — Ha! What hath fortune sent us? A woman in a mask! — I suppose she doth it to hide the smallpox or some cursed deformity — But hang it, she may pass for a woman of quality, for all that. Agad, I’ll attack her, and if I mistake not, she expects it. At least she doth not threaten to run away. Madam, your most obedient, humble servant — I presume by your present posture, that your mask gives you an advantage over me — That I have the honour of being known to you —
CHARLOTTE. You may depend on it, sir, it is to my advantage to cover my face by my doing it — And I conceive it would be to your advantage to wear a mask too.
MILLAMOUR. I’ll excuse your abusing my face, while you abuse your own — Nor do I believe you in earnest in either; for I see, by your eyes, that you like me; and I am pretty confident you like yourself.
CHARLOTTE. Indeed, if Mr. Millamour is so fully persuaded of the former, I think he may without any ill opinion of my modesty suspect the latter.
MILLAMOUR. Hum! My name too —
CHARLOTTE. I hope you have not the worse opinion of yourself from my knowing it.
MILLAMOUR. No, my dear — nor much the better of you, I can tell you. Harkye, child, I find thou art some old acquaintance of mine; and as those are a set of people whom I am always glad to serve, I will make thy fortune.
CHARLOTTE. NOW I fancy you don’t think me an old acquaintance: for, if I was, you must be assured I know that it is not in your power.
MILLAMOUR. Why, truly, madam, I am not worth as many Indies as I would bestow on your dear sex, if I had ‘em — But, in this affair, I am not to be the principal, but only a sort of agent — or, to speak in your own language, the bawd.
CHARLOTTE. Well, sir?
MILLAMOUR. And if you can but act the part of a woman of quality for one half hour, I believe I shall put it into your power to act one as long as you live.
CHARLOTTE. What! have you a man of quality to dispose of?
MILLAMOUR. No; but I have what many a man of quality would be glad to dispose of. I have a great fortune for you; and that with it which many a woman of quality hath to dispose of.
CHARLOTTE. What’s that, pray?
MILLAMOUR. A fool!
CHARLOTTE. Oh! you won’t want customers; but you and I, I find, shall not agree; for we happen to deal in the same wares.
MILLAMOUR. But mine is a man-fool, madam.
CHARLOTTE. And so is mine, sir — but let us waive that; for I will give him to any one who will have him. The fortune is what concerns me most. Do you know any one in whose hands I could place ten thousand pounds with safety.
MILLAMOUR. Nay, pr’ythee don’t trifle; if you will come with me, and act your part well, you shall be mistress of four times that sum within these two hours. You shall have a husband with those two great matrimonial qualities, rich and a fool.
CHARLOTTE. Ay, and what is his name?
MILLAMOUR. What signifies his name? Will you have a rich fool for a husband, madam, or no? (This must be some very vulgar slut,
by her hesitation.)
CHARLOTTE. No, sir, I don’t want riches, and I hate a fool.
MILLAMOUR. Then, your servant. I must go find somebody that will. If I had but time on my hands, I should find many a woman of fashion who would be glad to be Mrs. Mutable.
CHARLOTTE. Ha! stay, sir (this may be a lucky adventure, at least it must be a pleasant one), if I had known Mr. Mutable was the gentleman —
MILLAMOUR. Well, Mr. Mutable is the gentleman.
CHARLOTTE. Oh, heavens! My father! I shall be discovered.
MILLAMOUR. Come, madam, we have not a moment to lose. Step to my lodgings, and receive instructions.
CHARLOTTE. Well, sir, I have so good an opinion of your honour, that I will trust myself with you.
MILLAMOUR. My honour is most infinitely obliged to your confidence, dear madam.
SCENE VI.
MR. Stedfast, MR. Mutable.
MR. STEDFAST. Forgive indeed! Why a man may as well determine which way a weathercock will stand this day fortnight, by its present situation, as he can what you will think an hour hence by what you think now. A windmill, or a woman’s heart, are firm as rocks in comparison of you.
MR. MUTABLE. I own he did overpersuade me; but, pardon me this time, and I will immediately fetch the boy, and matters shall be despatched.
MR. STEDFAST. Hum!
MR. MUTABLE. Come, come, you cannot blame me. Who would not marry his son to a woman of quality?
MR. STEDFAST. Who would not? I would not, sir. If I had resolved to marry my daughter to a cobbler, I would not alter my resolution, to see her a-bed with the Emperor of Germany.
MR. MUTABLE. All men, Mr. Stedfast, are not so firm in their resolutions as you are.
MR. STEDFAST. More shame for them, sir. I am now in the fiftieth year of my age, and never broke one resolution in my life yet.
MR. MUTABLE. Good lack! I am some years older than you are, and never made a resolution in my life yet.
MR. STEDFAST. Well, sir, I see your son coming: I will prepare my daughter. But, pray observe me. Make one resolution. If you change your mind again before they are married, they shall never be married at all, that I am resolved.
MR. MUTABLE. [Aside.] This is a bloody positive old fellow. What a brave absolute prince he’d make! I’ll warrant he’d chop off the heads of two or three thousand subjects, sooner than break his word. I must not anger him any more.
SCENE VII.
MR. MUTABLE, YOUNG MUTABLE, HEARTFORT.
MR. MUTABLE. Come, Jacky, you must along with me:
MR. Stedfast and I are agreed at last.
YOUNG MUTABLE. And disappoint his lordship, sir?
MR. MUTABLE. Don’t tell me of his lordship. I have taken a resolution to see you married immediately: and married you shall be.
HEARTFORT. Confusion!
YOUNG MUTABLE. Dear sir.
MR. MUTABLE. Sir, I tell you I have taken a resolution: so follow me, as you expect my blessing.
YOUNG MUTABLE. Heartfort, for heaven’s sake stop him.
HEARTFORT. ‘Sdeath! I’ll stop him, or perish in the attempt.
SCENE VIII
MILLAJIOUR’S Lodgings. Brazen [alone, with an opera book in his hand]. Well, I cannot come into the opinion of the town about this last opera. It is too light for my gout. Give me your solemn sublime music. But pox take their taste: I scarce know five footmen in town who can distinguish. The rascals have no ear, no judgment. I would as soon ask a set of country squires what they liked. I remember the time when we should not have suffered such stuff as this to have gone down. Ah, dear, Si caro — [Sings. To him, MILLAMOUR and CHARLOTTE.
MILLAMOUR. Hey-day! Here, you musical gentleman, pray get you down stairs.
BRAZEN.. Yes, sir. [Sings the end of the tune, and exit.
CHARLOTTE. You have a very polite footman indeed, sir.
MILLAMOUR. Yes madam. But come, my dear, as you are now in a place where you have nothing to fear, you have no more occasion for your mask.
CHARLOTTE. No, sir. Before I discover more of me, it will be proper to set you right in some mistakes you seem to lie under concerning me. In the first place know, that I am a gentlewoman.
MILLAMOUR. Ay, a parson’s daughter, descended from very honest and reputable parents, I dare swear. [Aside.
CHARLOTTE. And what will surprise you, one of a very good family, and very great fortune.
MILLAMOUR. Ay, that would surprise me, indeed. But come, unmask, or you will force me to a violence I would avoid.
CHARLOTTE. You promised me not to be rude, before I would venture hither; and, I assure you, I am a woman of fashion.
MILLAMOUR. Well, madam, if you are a woman of fashion, I am sure you have too much good-nature to be angry with me for breaking a promise, which you have too much wit to expect I should keep. Besides, where there is no breach of confidence, there is no breach of promise. And you no more believe us when we swear we won’t be rude than we believe you when you swear you think us so. So, dear, sweet gentlewoman, unmask; for I am in haste to serve my friend, and yet I find I must serve myself first.
CHARLOTTE. Hold, sir. You know you are but a procurer.
MILLAMOUR. But I generally taste what I procure before I put it into a friend’s hands. Lookye, madam, it is in vain to resist. So, my dear artificial Blackmoor, I desire thee to uncover.
CHARLOTTE. No, sir, first hear my history.
MILLAMOUR. I will first see the frontispiece of it.
CHARLOTTE. Know, I am a woman of strict honour.
MILLAMOUR. Your history hath a very lamentable beginning.
CHARLOTTE. And in the greatest distress in the world; for I am this day to be married to a man I despise. Now, if Mr. Millamour can find out any means to deliver me from the hands of this uncourteous knight, I don’t know how far my generosity may reward him. I forgive these suspicions of me, which the manner in which you found me sufficiently justifies: But, I do assure you, this adventure is the only one which can attack my reputation; and I am the only child of a rich old father, and can make the fortune of my husband.
MILLAMOUR. Husband! Oh!
CHARLOTTE. Ay, husband. As rich a man as Mr. Millamour would leap at the name; though I hope you don’t think it my intention to make one of you — To endeavour wickedly to inclose a common that belongs to the whole sex.
MILLAMOUR. Ouns! What the devil can she be?
CHARLOTTE. You have a rare opinion of yourself indeed, that the very same morning in which you have escaped the jaws of a poor mistress, you should find another with twenty thousand pounds in her pocket.
MILLAMOUR. Every circumstance — [Aside.] Who knows what fortune may have sent me? What these charms of mine have done?
CHARLOTTE. What are you considering, sir?
MILLAMOUR. I am considering:, my dear, what particular charm in my person can have made this conquest.
CHARLOTTE. Oh! a complication, sir.
MILLAMOUR. Dear madam!
CHARLOTTE. For you must know, sir, that I have resolved never to marry, ‘till I have found a man without one single fault in my eye, or a single virtue in any one’s else. — For my part, I take beauty in a man to be a sign of effeminacy; sobriety, want of spirit; gravity, want of wit; and constancy, want of constitution.
MILLAMOUR. So that to have no fault in your eye is to be an impudent, hatchet-face, raking, rattling, roving, inconstant —
CHARLOTTE. All which perfections are so agreeably blended in you, sweet sir —
MILLAMOUR. Your most obedient humble servant, madam.
CHARLOTTE. That I have fixed on you as my cavalier for this enterprise, for which there is but one method. I must run into one danger to avoid another. I have no way to shun my husband at home but by carrying a husband home with me. Now, sir, if you can have the same implicit faith in my fortune as you had in my beauty, the bargain is struck. Send for a parson, and you know what follows — [unmasks], you may easily see my confusion. And I would have you imagine you owe this declaration
only to my horrible apprehension of being obliged to take a man I like less than yourself.
MILLAMOUR. I am infinitely obliged to you, madam, But —
CHARLOTTE. But! Do you hesitate, sir?
MILLAMOUR. The offer of so much beauty and fortune would admit of no hesitation, was it not that I must wrong a friend! Consider, madam, if you know none who hath a juster title to them. How happy would this declaration make Heartfort, which you throw away on me.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 358
