Scandal, Foresight.
SCAN. Alas, Mr. Foresight, I’m afraid all is not right. You are a wise man, and a conscientious man, a searcher into obscurity and futurity, and if you commit an error, it is with a great deal of consideration, and discretion, and caution —
FORE. Ah, good Mr. Scandal —
SCAN. Nay, nay, ’tis manifest; I do not flatter you. But Sir Sampson is hasty, very hasty. I’m afraid he is not scrupulous enough, Mr. Foresight. He has been wicked, and heav’n grant he may mean well in his affair with you. But my mind gives me, these things cannot be wholly insignificant. You are wise, and should not be over-reached, methinks you should not —
FORE. Alas, Mr. Scandal, — humanum est errare.
SCAN. You say true, man will err; mere man will err — but you are something more. There have been wise men; but they were such as you, men who consulted the stars, and were observers of omens. Solomon was wise, but how? — by his judgment in astrology. So says Pineda in his third book and eighth chapter —
FORE. You are learned, Mr. Scandal.
SCAN. A trifler — but a lover of art. And the Wise Men of the East owed their instruction to a star, which is rightly observed by Gregory the Great in favour of astrology. And Albertus Magnus makes it the most valuable science, because, says he, it teaches us to consider the causation of causes, in the causes of things.
FORE. I protest I honour you, Mr. Scandal. I did not think you had been read in these matters. Few young men are inclined —
SCAN. I thank my stars that have inclined me. But I fear this marriage and making over this estate, this transferring of a rightful inheritance, will bring judgments upon us. I prophesy it, and I would not have the fate of Cassandra not to be believed. Valentine is disturbed; what can be the cause of that? And Sir Sampson is hurried on by an unusual violence. I fear he does not act wholly from himself; methinks he does not look as he used to do.
FORE. He was always of an impetuous nature. But as to this marriage, I have consulted the stars, and all appearances are prosperous —
SCAN. Come, come, Mr. Foresight, let not the prospect of worldly lucre carry you beyond your judgment, nor against your conscience. You are not satisfied that you act justly.
FORE. How?
SCAN. You are not satisfied, I say. I am loth to discourage you, but it is palpable that you are not satisfied.
FORE. How does it appear, Mr. Scandal? I think I am very well satisfied.
SCAN. Either you suffer yourself to deceive yourself, or you do not know yourself.
FORE. Pray explain yourself.
SCAN. Do you sleep well o’ nights?
FORE. Very well.
SCAN. Are you certain? You do not look so.
FORE. I am in health, I think.
SCAN. So was Valentine this morning; and looked just so.
FORE. How? Am I altered any way? I don’t perceive it.
SCAN. That may be, but your beard is longer than it was two hours ago.
FORE. Indeed! Bless me!
SCENE XII.
[To them] Mrs. Foresight.
MRS. FORE. Husband, will you go to bed? It’s ten a’clock. Mr. Scandal, your servant.
SCAN. Pox on her, she has interrupted my design — but I must work her into the project. You keep early hours, madam.
MRS. FORE. Mr. Foresight is punctual; we sit up after him.
FORE. My dear, pray lend me your glass, your little looking-glass.
SCAN. Pray lend it him, madam. I’ll tell you the reason.
[She gives him the glass: Scandal and she whisper.] My passion for you is grown so violent, that I am no longer master of myself. I was interrupted in the morning, when you had charity enough to give me your attention, and I had hopes of finding another opportunity of explaining myself to you, but was disappointed all this day; and the uneasiness that has attended me ever since brings me now hither at this unseasonable hour.
MRS. FORE. Was there ever such impudence, to make love to me before my husband’s face? I’ll swear I’ll tell him.
SCAN. Do. I’ll die a martyr rather than disclaim my passion. But come a little farther this way, and I’ll tell you what project I had to get him out of the way; that I might have an opportunity of waiting upon you. [Whisper. Foresight looking in the glass.]
FORE. I do not see any revolution here; methinks I look with a serene and benign aspect — pale, a little pale — but the roses of these cheeks have been gathered many years; — ha! I do not like that sudden flushing. Gone already! hem, hem, hem! faintish. My heart is pretty good; yet it beats; and my pulses, ha! — I have none — mercy on me — hum. Yes, here they are — gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop, gallop, hey! Whither will they hurry me? Now they’re gone again. And now I’m faint again, and pale again, and hem! and my hem! breath, hem! grows short; hem! hem! he, he, hem!
SCAN. It takes: pursue it in the name of love and pleasure.
MRS. FORE. How do you do, Mr. Foresight!
FORE. Hum, not so well as I thought I was. Lend me your hand.
SCAN. Look you there now. Your lady says your sleep has been unquiet of late.
FORE. Very likely.
MRS. FORE. Oh, mighty restless, but I was afraid to tell him so. He has been subject to talking and starting.
SCAN. And did not use to be so?
MRS. FORE. Never, never, till within these three nights; I cannot say that he has once broken my rest since we have been married.
FORE. I will go to bed.
SCAN. Do so, Mr. Foresight, and say your prayers. He looks better than he did.
MRS. FORE. Nurse, nurse!
FORE. Do you think so, Mr. Scandal?
SCAN. Yes, yes. I hope this will be gone by morning, taking it in time.
FORE. I hope so.
SCENE XIII.
[To them] Nurse.
MRS. FORE. Nurse; your master is not well; put him to bed.
SCAN. I hope you will be able to see Valentine in the morning. You had best take a little diacodion and cowslip-water, and lie upon your back: maybe you may dream.
FORE. I thank you, Mr. Scandal, I will. Nurse, let me have a watch-light, and lay the Crumbs of Comfort by me.
NURSE. Yes, sir.
FORE. And — hem, hem! I am very faint.
SCAN. No, no, you look much better.
FORE. Do I? And, d’ye hear, bring me, let me see — within a quarter of twelve, hem — he, hem! — just upon the turning of the tide, bring me the urinal; and I hope, neither the lord of my ascendant, nor the moon will be combust; and then I may do well.
SCAN. I hope so. Leave that to me; I will erect a scheme; and I hope I shall find both Sol and Venus in the sixth house.
FORE. I thank you, Mr. Scandal, indeed that would be a great comfort to me. Hem, hem! good night.
SCENE XIV.
Scandal, Mrs. Foresight.
SCAN. Good night, good Mr. Foresight; and I hope Mars and Venus will be in conjunction; — while your wife and I are together.
MRS. FORE. Well; and what use do you hope to make of this project? You don’t think that you are ever like to succeed in your design upon me?
SCAN. Yes, faith I do; I have a better opinion both of you and myself than to despair.
MRS. FORE. Did you ever hear such a toad? Hark’ee, devil: do you think any woman honest?
SCAN. Yes, several, very honest; they’ll cheat a little at cards, sometimes, but that’s nothing.
MRS. FORE. Pshaw! but virtuous, I mean?
SCAN. Yes, faith, I believe some women are virtuous too; but ’tis as I believe some men are valiant, through fear. For why should a man court danger or a woman shun pleasure?
MRS. FORE. Oh, monstrous! What are conscience and honour?
SCAN. Why, honour is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic thief; and he that would secure his pleasure must pay a tribute to one and go halves with t’other. As for honour, that you have secured, for you have purchased a perpetual opportunity for pleasure.
MRS. FORE. An opportunity
for pleasure?
SCAN. Ay, your husband, a husband is an opportunity for pleasure: so you have taken care of honour, and ’tis the least I can do to take care of conscience.
MRS. FORE. And so you think we are free for one another?
SCAN. Yes, faith I think so; I love to speak my mind.
MRS. FORE. Why, then, I’ll speak my mind. Now as to this affair between you and me. Here you make love to me; why, I’ll confess it does not displease me. Your person is well enough, and your understanding is not amiss.
SCAN. I have no great opinion of myself, but I think I’m neither deformed nor a fool.
MRS. FORE. But you have a villainous character: you are a libertine in speech, as well as practice.
SCAN. Come, I know what you would say: you think it more dangerous to be seen in conversation with me than to allow some other men the last favour; you mistake: the liberty I take in talking is purely affected for the service of your sex. He that first cries out stop thief is often he that has stol’n the treasure. I am a juggler, that act by confederacy; and if you please, we’ll put a trick upon the world.
MRS. FORE. Ay; but you are such an universal juggler, that I’m afraid you have a great many confederates.
SCAN. Faith, I’m sound.
MRS. FORE. Oh, fie — I’ll swear you’re impudent.
SCAN. I’ll swear you’re handsome.
MRS. FORE. Pish, you’d tell me so, though you did not think so.
SCAN. And you’d think so, though I should not tell you so. And now I think we know one another pretty well.
MRS. FORE. O Lord, who’s here?
SCENE XV.
[To them] Mrs. Frail and Ben.
BEN. Mess, I love to speak my mind. Father has nothing to do with me. Nay, I can’t say that neither; he has something to do with me. But what does that signify? If so be that I ben’t minded to be steered by him; ’tis as thof he should strive against wind and tide.
MRS. FRAIL. Ay, but, my dear, we must keep it secret till the estate be settled; for you know, marrying without an estate is like sailing in a ship without ballast.
BEN. He, he, he; why, that’s true; just so for all the world it is indeed, as like as two cable ropes.
MRS. FRAIL. And though I have a good portion, you know one would not venture all in one bottom.
BEN. Why, that’s true again; for mayhap one bottom may spring a leak. You have hit it indeed: mess, you’ve nicked the channel.
MRS. FRAIL. Well, but if you should forsake me after all, you’d break my heart.
BEN. Break your heart? I’d rather the Mary-gold should break her cable in a storm, as well as I love her. Flesh, you don’t think I’m false-hearted, like a landman. A sailor will be honest, thof mayhap he has never a penny of money in his pocket. Mayhap I may not have so fair a face as a citizen or a courtier; but, for all that, I’ve as good blood in my veins, and a heart as sound as a biscuit.
MRS. FRAIL. And will you love me always?
BEN. Nay, an I love once, I’ll stick like pitch; I’ll tell you that. Come, I’ll sing you a song of a sailor.
MRS. FRAIL. Hold, there’s my sister, I’ll call her to hear it.
MRS. FORE. Well; I won’t go to bed to my husband to-night, because I’ll retire to my own chamber, and think of what you have said.
SCAN. Well; you’ll give me leave to wait upon you to your chamber door, and leave you my last instructions?
MRS. FORE. Hold, here’s my sister coming towards us.
MRS. FRAIL. If it won’t interrupt you I’ll entertain you with a song.
BEN. The song was made upon one of our ship’s-crew’s wife. Our boatswain made the song. Mayhap you may know her, sir. Before she was married she was called buxom Joan of Deptford.
SCAN. I have heard of her.
BEN. [Sings]: —
BALLAD.
Set by Mr. John Eccles.
I.
A soldier and a sailor,
A tinker and a tailor,
Had once a doubtful strife, sir,
To make a maid a wife, sir,
Whose name was buxom Joan.
For now the time was ended,
When she no more intended
To lick her lips at men, sir,
And gnaw the sheets in vain, sir,
And lie o’ nights alone.
II.
The soldier swore like thunder,
He loved her more than plunder,
And shewed her many a scar, sir,
That he had brought from far, sir,
With fighting for her sake.
The tailor thought to please her
With offering her his measure.
The tinker, too, with mettle
Said he could mend her kettle,
And stop up ev’ry leak.
III.
But while these three were prating,
The sailor slyly waiting,
Thought if it came about, sir,
That they should all fall out, sir,
He then might play his part.
And just e’en as he meant, sir,
To loggerheads they went, sir,
And then he let fly at her
A shot ‘twixt wind and water,
That won this fair maid’s heart.
BEN. If some of our crew that came to see me are not gone, you shall see that we sailors can dance sometimes as well as other folks. [Whistles.] I warrant that brings ’em, an they be within hearing. [Enter seamen]. Oh, here they be — and fiddles along with ’em. Come, my lads, let’s have a round, and I’ll make one. [Dance.]
BEN. We’re merry folks, we sailors: we han’t much to care for. Thus we live at sea; eat biscuit, and drink flip, put on a clean shirt once a quarter; come home and lie with our landladies once a year, get rid of a little money, and then put off with the next fair wind. How d’ye like us?
MRS. FRAIL. Oh, you are the happiest, merriest men alive.
MRS. FORE. We’re beholden to Mr. Benjamin for this entertainment. I believe it’s late.
BEN. Why, forsooth, an you think so, you had best go to bed. For my part, I mean to toss a can, and remember my sweet-heart, afore I turn in; mayhap I may dream of her.
MRS. FORE. Mr. Scandal, you had best go to bed and dream too.
SCAN. Why, faith, I have a good lively imagination, and can dream as much to the purpose as another, if I set about it. But dreaming is the poor retreat of a lazy, hopeless, and imperfect lover; ’tis the last glimpse of love to worn-out sinners, and the faint dawning of a bliss to wishing girls and growing boys.
There’s nought but willing, waking love, that can
Make blest the ripened maid and finished man.
ACT IV. — SCENE I.
Valentine’s lodging.
Scandal and Jeremy.
SCAN. Well, is your master ready? does he look madly and talk madly?
JERE. Yes, sir; you need make no great doubt of that. He that was so near turning poet yesterday morning can’t be much to seek in playing the madman to-day.
SCAN. Would he have Angelica acquainted with the reason of his design?
JERE. No, sir, not yet. He has a mind to try whether his playing the madman won’t make her play the fool, and fall in love with him; or at least own that she has loved him all this while and concealed it.
SCAN. I saw her take coach just now with her maid, and think I heard her bid the coachman drive hither.
JERE. Like enough, sir, for I told her maid this morning, my master was run stark mad only for love of her mistress. — I hear a coach stop; if it should be she, sir, I believe he would not see her, till he hears how she takes it.
SCAN. Well, I’ll try her:— ’tis she — here she comes.
SCENE II.
[To them] Angelica with Jenny.
ANG. Mr. Scandal, I suppose you don’t think it a novelty to see a woman visit a man at his own lodgings in a morning?
SCAN. Not upon a kind occasion, madam. But when a lady comes tyrannically to insult a ruined lover, and
make manifest the cruel triumphs of her beauty, the barbarity of it something surprises me.
ANG. I don’t like raillery from a serious face. Pray tell me what is the matter?
JERE. No strange matter, madam; my master’s mad, that’s all. I suppose your ladyship has thought him so a great while.
ANG. How d’ye mean, mad?
JERE. Why, faith, madam, he’s mad for want of his wits, just as he was poor for want of money; his head is e’en as light as his pockets, and anybody that has a mind to a bad bargain can’t do better than to beg him for his estate.
Complete Works of William Congreve Page 47
