Complete Works of William Congreve

by William Congreve

  Women, like flames, have a destroying power,

  Ne’er to be quenched, till they themselves devour.

  ACT V.

  SCENE I.

  Lady Touchwood and Maskwell.

  LADY TOUCH. Was’t not lucky?

  MASK. Lucky! Fortune is your own, and ’tis her interest so to be. By heaven I believe you can control her power, and she fears it: though chance brought my lord, ’twas your own art that turned it to advantage.

  LADY TOUCH. ’Tis true it might have been my ruin. But yonder’s my lord. I believe he’s coming to find you: I’ll not be seen.

  SCENE II.

  Maskwell alone.

  MASK. So; I durst not own my introducing my lord, though it succeeded well for her, for she would have suspected a design which I should have been puzzled to excuse. My lord is thoughtful. I’ll be so too; yet he shall know my thoughts: or think he does.

  SCENE III.

  [To him] Lord Touchwood.

  MASK. What have I done?

  LORD TOUCH. Talking to himself!

  MASK. ’Twas honest — and shall I be rewarded for it? No, ’twas honest, therefore I shan’t. Nay, rather therefore I ought not; for it rewards itself.

  LORD TOUCH. Unequalled virtue! [Aside.]

  MASK. But should it be known, then I have lost a friend! He was an ill man, and I have gained; for half myself I lent him, and that I have recalled: so I have served myself, and what is yet better, I have served a worthy lord to whom I owe myself.

  LORD TOUCH. Excellent man! [Aside.]

  MASK. Yet I am wretched. Oh, there is a secret burns within this breast, which, should it once blaze forth, would ruin all, consume my honest character, and brand me with the name of villain.

  LORD TOUCH. Ha!

  MASK. Why do I love! Yet heaven and my waking conscience are my witnesses, I never gave one working thought a vent, which might discover that I loved, nor ever must. No, let it prey upon my heart; for I would rather die, than seem once, barely seem, dishonest. Oh, should it once be known I love fair Cynthia, all this that I have done would look like rival’s malice, false friendship to my lord, and base self-interest. Let me perish first, and from this hour avoid all sight and speech, and, if I can, all thought of that pernicious beauty. Ha! But what is my distraction doing? I am wildly talking to myself, and some ill chance might have directed malicious ears this way. [Seems to start, seeing my lord.]

  LORD TOUCH. Start not; let guilty and dishonest souls start at the revelation of their thoughts, but be thou fixed, as is thy virtue.

  MASK. I am confounded, and beg your Lordship’s pardon for those free discourses which I have had with myself.

  LORD TOUCH. Come, I beg your pardon that I overheard you, and yet it shall not need. Honest Maskwell! Thy and my good genius led me hither. Mine, in that I have discovered so much manly virtue; thine, in that thou shalt have due reward of all thy worth. Give me thy hand. My nephew is the alone remaining branch of all our ancient family: him I thus blow away, and constitute thee in his room to be my heir —

  MASK. Now heaven forbid —

  LORD TOUCH. No more — I have resolved. The writings are ready drawn, and wanted nothing but to be signed, and have his name inserted. Yours will fill the blank as well. I will have no reply. Let me command this time; for ’tis the last in which I will assume authority. Hereafter, you shall rule where I have power.

  MASK. I humbly would petition —

  LORD TOUCH. Is’t for yourself? [Maskwell pauses.] I’ll hear of nought for anybody else.

  MASK. Then witness heaven for me, this wealth and honour was not of my seeking, nor would I build my fortune on another’s ruin. I had but one desire —

  LORD TOUCH. Thou shalt enjoy it. If all I’m worth in wealth or interest can purchase Cynthia, she is thine. I’m sure Sir Paul’s consent will follow fortune. I’ll quickly show him which way that is going.

  MASK. You oppress me with bounty. My gratitude is weak, and shrinks beneath the weight, and cannot rise to thank you. What, enjoy my love! Forgive the transports of a blessing so unexpected, so unhoped for, so unthought of!

  LORD TOUCH. I will confirm it, and rejoice with thee.

  SCENE IV.

  Maskwell alone.

  MASK. This is prosperous indeed. Why let him find me out a villain, settled in possession of a fair estate, and full fruition of my love, I’ll bear the railings of a losing gamester. But should he find me out before! ’Tis dangerous to delay. Let me think. Should my lord proceed to treat openly of my marriage with Cynthia, all must be discovered, and Mellefont can be no longer blinded. It must not be; nay, should my lady know it — ay, then were fine work indeed! Her fury would spare nothing, though she involved herself in ruin. No, it must be by stratagem. I must deceive Mellefont once more, and get my lord to consent to my private management. He comes opportunely. Now will I, in my old way, discover the whole and real truth of the matter to him, that he may not suspect one word on’t.

  No mask like open truth to cover lies,

  As to go naked is the best disguise.

  SCENE V.

  [To him] Mellefont.

  MEL. O Maskwell, what hopes? I am confounded in a maze of thoughts, each leading into one another, and all ending in perplexity. My uncle will not see nor hear me.

  MASK. No matter, sir, don’t trouble your head: all’s in my power.

  MEL. How? For heaven’s sake?

  MASK. Little do you think that your aunt has kept her word. How the devil she wrought my lord into this dotage, I know not; but he’s gone to Sir Paul about my marriage with Cynthia, and has appointed me his heir.

  MEL. The devil he has! What’s to be done?

  MASK. I have it, it must be by stratagem; for it’s in vain to make application to him. I think I have that in my head that cannot fail. Where’s Cynthia?

  MEL. In the garden.

  MASK. Let us go and consult her: my life for yours, I cheat my lord.

  SCENE VI.

  Lord Touchwood, Lady Touchwood.

  LADY TOUCH. Maskwell your heir, and marry Cynthia!

  LORD TOUCH. I cannot do too much for so much merit.

  LADY TOUCH. But this is a thing of too great moment to be so suddenly resolved. Why Cynthia? Why must he be married? Is there not reward enough in raising his low fortune, but he must mix his blood with mine, and wed my niece? How know you that my brother will consent, or she? Nay, he himself perhaps may have affections otherwhere.

  LORD TOUCH. No, I am convinced he loves her.

  LADY TOUCH. Maskwell love Cynthia? Impossible!

  LORD TOUCH. I tell you he confessed it to me.

  LADY TOUCH. Confusion! How’s this? [Aside.]

  LORD TOUCH. His humility long stifled his passion. And his love of Mellefont would have made him still conceal it. But by encouragement, I wrung the secret from him, and know he’s no way to be rewarded but in her. I’ll defer my farther proceedings in it till you have considered it; but remember how we are both indebted to him.

  SCENE VII.

  Lady Touchwood alone.

  LADY TOUCH. Both indebted to him! Yes, we are both indebted to him, if you knew all. Villain! Oh, I am wild with this surprise of treachery: it is impossible, it cannot be. He love Cynthia! What, have I been bawd to his designs, his property only, a baiting place? Now I see what made him false to Mellefont. Shame and distraction! I cannot bear it, oh! what woman can bear to be a property? To be kindled to a flame, only to light him to another’s arms; oh! that I were fire indeed that I might burn the vile traitor. What shall I do? How shall I think? I cannot think. All my designs are lost, my love unsated, my revenge unfinished, and fresh cause of fury from unthought of plagues.

  SCENE VIII.

  [To her] Sir Paul.

  SIR PAUL. Madam, sister, my lady sister, did you see my lady my wife?

  LADY TOUCH. Oh! Torture!

  SIR PAUL. Gads-bud, I can’t find her high nor low; where can she be, think you?

  LADY TOUCH. Where she’
s serving you, as all your sex ought to be served, making you a beast. Don’t you know you’re a fool, brother?

  SIR PAUL. A fool; he, he, he, you’re merry. No, no, not I, I know no such matter.

  LADY TOUCH. Why, then, you don’t know half your happiness.

  SIR PAUL. That’s a jest with all my heart, faith and troth. But harkee, my lord told me something of a revolution of things; I don’t know what to make on’t. Gads-bud, I must consult my wife: — he talks of disinheriting his nephew, and I don’t know what. Look you, sister, I must know what my girl has to trust to, or not a syllable of a wedding, gads-bud! — to show you that I am not a fool.

  LADY TOUCH. Hear me: consent to the breaking off this marriage, and the promoting any other without consulting me, and I’ll renounce all blood, all relation and concern with you for ever; nay, I’ll be your enemy, and pursue you to destruction: I’ll tear your eyes out, and tread you under my feet.

  SIR PAUL. Why, what’s the matter now? Good Lord, what’s all this for? Pooh, here’s a joke indeed. Why, where’s my wife?

  LADY TOUCH. With Careless, in the close arbour; he may want you by this time, as much as you want her.

  SIR PAUL. Oh, if she be with Mr. Careless, ’tis well enough.

  LADY TOUCH. Fool, sot, insensible ox! But remember what I said to you, or you had better eat your own horns, by this light you had.

  SIR PAUL. You’re a passionate woman, gads-bud! But to say truth all our family are choleric; I am the only peaceable person amongst ’em.

  SCENE IX.

  Mellefont, Maskwell, and Cynthia.

  MEL. I know no other way but this he has proposed: if you have love enough to run the venture.

  CYNT. I don’t know whether I have love enough, but I find I have obstinacy enough to pursue whatever I have once resolved; and a true female courage to oppose anything that resists my will, though ‘twere reason itself.

  MASK. That’s right. Well, I’ll secure the writings and run the hazard along with you.

  CYNT. But how can the coach and six horses be got ready without suspicion?

  MASK. Leave it to my care; that shall be so far from being suspected, that it shall be got ready by my lord’s own order.

  MEL. How?

  MASK. Why, I intend to tell my lord the whole matter of our contrivance; that’s my way.

  MEL. I don’t understand you.

  MASK. Why, I’ll tell my lord I laid this plot with you on purpose to betray you; and that which put me upon it, was the finding it impossible to gain the lady any other way, but in the hopes of her marrying you.

  MEL. So.

  MASK. So, why so, while you’re busied in making yourself ready, I’ll wheedle her into the coach; and instead of you, borrow my lord’s chaplain, and so run away with her myself.

  MEL. Oh, I conceive you; you’ll tell him so.

  MASK. Tell him so! ay; why, you don’t think I mean to do so?

  MEL. No, no; ha, ha, I dare swear thou wilt not.

  MASK. Therefore, for our farther security, I would have you disguised like a parson, that if my lord should have curiosity to peep, he may not discover you in the coach, but think the cheat is carried on as he would have it.

  MEL. Excellent Maskwell! Thou wert certainly meant for a statesman or a Jesuit; but thou art too honest for one, and too pious for the other.

  MASK. Well, get yourself ready, and meet me in half-an-hour, yonder in my lady’s dressing-room; go by the back stairs, and so we may slip down without being observed. I’ll send the chaplain to you with his robes: I have made him my own, and ordered him to meet us to-morrow morning at St. Albans; there we will sum up this account, to all our satisfactions.

  MEL. Should I begin to thank or praise thee, I should waste the little time we have.

  SCENE X.

  Cynthia, Maskwell.

  MASK. Madam, you will be ready?

  CYNT. I will be punctual to the minute. [Going.]

  MASK. Stay, I have a doubt. Upon second thoughts, we had better meet in the chaplain’s chamber here, the corner chamber at this end of the gallery, there is a back way into it, so that you need not come through this door, and a pair of private stairs leading down to the stables. It will be more convenient.

  CYNT. I am guided by you; but Mellefont will mistake.

  MASK. No, no, I’ll after him immediately, and tell him.

  CYNT. I will not fail.

  SCENE XI.

  Maskwell alone.

  MASK. Why, qui vult decipi decipiatur.— ’Tis no fault of mine: I have told ’em in plain terms how easy ’tis for me to cheat ’em, and if they will not hear the serpent’s hiss, they must be stung into experience and future caution. Now to prepare my lord to consent to this. But first I must instruct my little Levite; there is no plot, public or private, that can expect to prosper without one of them has a finger in’t: he promised me to be within at this hour, — Mr. Saygrace, Mr. Saygrace! [Goes to the chamber door and knocks.]

  SCENE XII.

  Maskwell, Saygrace.

  SAYGRACE [looking out.] Sweet sir, I will but pen the last line of an acrostic, and be with you in the twinkling of an ejaculation, in the pronouncing of an Amen, or before you can —

  MASK. Nay, good Mr. Saygrace, do not prolong the time by describing to me the shortness of your stay; rather if you please, defer the finishing of your wit, and let us talk about our business; it shall be tithes in your way.

  SAYGRACE. [Enters.] You shall prevail: I would break off in the middle of a sermon to do you a pleasure.

  MASK. You could not do me a greater, — except the business in hand. Have you provided a habit for Mellefont?

  SAYGRACE. I have; they are ready in my chamber, together with a clean starched band and cuffs.

  MASK. Good, let them be carried to him; have you stitched the gown sleeve, that he may be puzzled, and waste time in putting it on?

  SAYGRACE. I have: the gown will not be indued without perplexity.

  MASK. Meet me in half-an-hour, here in your own chamber. When Cynthia comes, let there be no light, and do not speak, that she may not distinguish you from Mellefont. I’ll urge haste to excuse your silence.

  SAYGRACE. You have no more commands?

  MASK. None: your text is short.

  SAYGRACE. But pithy: and I will handle it with discretion.

  MASK. It will be the first you have so served.

  SCENE XIII.

  Lord Touchwood, Maskwell.

  LORD TOUCH. Sure I was born to be controlled by those I should command. My very slaves will shortly give me rules how I shall govern them.

  MASK. I am concerned to see your lordship discomposed.

  LORD TOUCH. Have you seen my wife lately, or disobliged her?

  MASK. No, my lord. What can this mean? [Aside.]

  LORD TOUCH. Then Mellefont has urged somebody to incense her. Something she has heard of you which carries her beyond the bounds of patience.

  MASK. This I feared. [Aside.] Did not your lordship tell her of the honours you designed me?

  LORD TOUCH. Yes.

  MASK. ’Tis that; you know my lady has a high spirit; she thinks I am unworthy.

  LORD TOUCH. Unworthy! ’Tis an ignorant pride in her to think so. Honesty to me is true nobility. However, ’tis my will it shall be so, and that should be convincing to her as much as reason. By Heaven, I’ll not be wife-ridden; were it possible, it should be done this night.

  MASK. By Heaven, he meets my wishes! [Aside.] Few things are impossible to willing minds.

  LORD TOUCH. Instruct me how this may be done, you shall see I want no inclination.

  MASK. I had laid a small design for to-morrow (as love will be inventing) which I thought to communicate to your lordship. But it may be as well done to-night.

  LORD TOUCH. Here’s company. Come this way and tell me.

  SCENE XIV.

  Careless and Cynthia.