Complete Works of Thomas Otway
Page 83
Still better and better, and better for that very reason; for I would swinge him too with much fatherly Discipline, and teach him the duty which a Son, with a great deal of Money, ows an honest old Daddy, that has none.
Theod.
Very piously resolved, this; that’s the truth on’t. But, Sir, I would have you satisfied, into the bargain, that this will be no trifling matter. No Boys Play, old Tilbury.
Fath.
Boys Play, Sir; Sir, I can sight, Sir: though I am an old fellow, I have a Fox by my side here, that will snarl upon occasion. Boys Play! I don’t understand your Boys Play, Sir —
Theod.
I would not have you take my plainness ill, Sir: I only hinted it, to deal with you according to an old fashion of sincerity which I profess, Sir. I hope you are not offended at it.
Fath.
Then, to rectifie all mistakes, let us fairly have a Breakfast, hoc Momento. I have a sort of gnawing Courage, that when it is provok’d, always gives me a Stomack to a savoury Bit, and a cheerful Bottle. I hate to be run through the Guts, with nothing in ’em to keep the Wind out.
Grat.
Very well propos’d, I think; for we have more Fiends to meet us at a Tavern hard by here, where we Intend to wish our Enterprise well in a bonny Bottle or two, and then about it as cheerfully as we can.
Fath.
Very well said, that: This is a pretty fellow, I’ll warrant him. Now, if my Rebel be run through the Midriff in this business, I am the next Heir at Law, and the two thousand Pounds a year is my own, declaro. Come along my little Spit-fires.
Nous allons.
Brave strippons.
Sans scavoir on Nous allons.
Six Bumpers in a hand to him that drills the first Whore-Master through the small Guts.
Grat.
We’ll pledge it heartily, Sir.
Fath.
You are both my honest Boys, my best Children: march along then, bravely and boldly. — I must borrow Money of these Fellows before I part with ’em. Nous allons, Brave strippons,
[Exeunt.
Enter Courtine.
Court.
Oh the unconscionable Importunity of an unsavoury, plegmatick, cold, insipid Wife! By this good day, she has kiss’d me till I am downright sick; I have had so much of her, that I shall have no stomach to the Sex again this fortnight.
Enter Sylvia.
Sylv.
My Dearest, pray my Dearest, don’t thus leave me: by this kind kiss I beg is.
Court.
Oh, the Devil!
Sylv.
Look kindly on me; speak to me. —
Court.
Plague intollerable! —
Sylv.
Indeed, my Dear, I love you with such fondness! Pray speak.
Court.
I cannot.
Sylv.
Why? an’t you well?
Court.
Oh, there’s a sudden faintness comes o’er my Spirits! Oh, I’m very sick! Leave me, if thou lov’st me, stand off, and give me Air; I die else. Ohh! —
Sylv.
I’ll kiss thee then to life again.
Court.
Stand off, I say; I’ll not be stifled! Murder! Help! Murder! Help!
Sylv.
Ill natur’d Tyrant!
Court.
Good natur’d Devils! Kiss, i’th’ Devil’s name! —
Sylv.
Come near me, Husband.
Court.
Come not near me, Wife. How am I tortur’d! —
Sylv.
You must be kind; indeed, my dear, you must.
Court.
Indeed, my Dear, by your good leave, I sha’ not, — Damnation!
Sylv.
You long to be rid of me again.
Court.
That I do most mightily; but how to bring it about, if I know, I am a Rascal. Oh! Oh!
Sylv.
What’s the matter, Dearee?
Court.
Oh, I am sick again of the sudden! Give me the Chair there: Oh! my Heart beats, and my Head swims! Oh! oh!
Sylv.
Alas, I fear y’are very sick indeed! if my poor Lovee should die, what would become of me!
Court.
A Plague o’ your whining! Would I were well out of the House once!
Sylv.
Shall I fetch thee some Cordial, my dearest Love, my Joy? Speak to me; shall I? —
Court.
Ay if thou wilt, my Jewel. Jewel quotha! — what a plagu’s this: Hush, is she gone? — Now for a convenient Balcone to venture the breaking of a Neck at. —
Enter Page.
Page.
Sir, Sir, a word with you.
Court.
With me, Sweetheart; thy business?
Page.
A Lady, Sir, that dog’d you hither this Morning —
Court.
A Lady! —
Page.
Yes, a Lady, Sir.
Court.
Hist: Get you in, you little Monkey; skip, sculk, or you’ll spoil all else. — Here’s the blessed comfort of a Wife again now: — Oh, oh! —
Enter Sylvia.
Sylv.
How is’t, my Blessing? Here, take this: Heaven guard thee.!
Court.
From thy confounded troublesome Company, if it be possible.
[Drinks.
Sylv.
How is’t, my Dearee?
Court.
If I had a little more on’t, Dearee.
Sylv.
I’ll see what’s left, my Joy.
Court.
Do, prithee do, my Joy then. Joy in the Devil’s name.
[Ex. Sylv.
Hist, Sirrah Page, come hither.
Enter Page.
Page.
Is your Lady gone, Sir?
Court.
Yes: But what News of the other Lady, my trusty Mercury?
Page.
She’s now below, Sir; and desires to see you.
Court.
Is she young? handsom?
Page.
I can’t tell that, Sir; but she’s rare and fine.
Court.
Are her Cloaths rich?
Page.
Oh Sir, all Gold and Silver; with a deep Point Thingum Thangum over her Shoulders: and then she smells as sweet as my Ladies Dressing-Box.
Court.
Fly little Spright, and tell her, I’m impatient: tell her, I’ll wait on her within a moment: tell her —
Page.
But Sir —
Court.
Be gone, be gone, you Knave, or you’ll be caught else. Oh!
Enter Sylvia.
Sylv.
Here’s all that’s left, my Heart.
Court.
I am sorry for it, it is very comfortable. [Drinks.] Oh, oh, oh!
Sylv.
What ails my Life?
Court.
Oh, I have a horrid tremor upon my Heart! ’tis the old Palpitation I us’d to be troubl’d with, return’d again. Oh, if I were but —
Sylv.
Where, Love?
Court.
Oh! but in a condition to go abroad, there is an able Fellow of my Acquaintance, that always us’d to relieve me in this extremity.
Sylv.
Where does he live? I’ll take a Coach my self, and go to him.
Court.
The Devil take me if I know. — Oh! ’tis a vast way off. — Oh! now it kills me again.
Sylv.
I shall not think it so, when it is my duty.
Court.
That’s but too kind, my Sweetest; though, if I had but one Bottle of his Elixir. —
Sylv.
How is it call’d?
Court.
Specimen Vitae.
Sylv.
Specimen Vitae?
Court.
Ay, Specimen Vitae: ’tis a damn’d hard name, but it is very good.
Sylv.
/> Where is’t he lives then? Prithee let me go thither.
Court.
Oh, ’tis a horrid way off! Besides, it would trouble me now, in this condition, to be so long without thee.
Sylv.
Prithee let me go.
Court.
Why, ’tis as far as Grubb-street Child, as Grubb-street?
Sylv.
I’ll be back again instantly.
Court.
I had rather, indeed, thou shouldst go thy self, than send a Messenger, because the business will be done more carefully.
Sylv.
How’s the Direction then?
Court.
In Grubb-street Child, at the Sign of the Sun and Phaenix, I think it is, there lives a Chymist; ask for him, and in my name desire a Bottle of his Specimen Vitae. Oh!
Sylv.
Specimen Vitae?
Court.
Ay, Specimen Vitae — I’ll try in the mean time if I can walk about the Room, and divert the terrour of my Fits.
Sylv.
Heavens bless my dearest Dearee.
Court.
Thank you, my only Joy. — Would in the Devil’s Name she were gone once, and had her Guts full of that Quack’s Specimen Vitae.
Sylv.
You’ll be careful of your self, Child?
Court.
As careful as I can, Child.
Sylv.
Gud b’w’y Courtee.
Court.
B’w’y my Sylvee. — Oh, oh!
[Exit Sylvia, Enter Page.
Is she gone?
Page.
Yes, Sir.
Court.
Where’s the Lady?
Page.
Here; just entring up the back Stairs.
[Lady appears at the Door.
Court.
Madam, this Honour done your worthless Servant —
Enter Sylvia.
Sylv.
Oh, my dear Heart, I had forgot my Wages. Pray Courtee, kiss me before I go.
Court.
Confound her, Come again! Oh, my Love! I have made hard shift to crawl to the Door here.
Sylv.
Who’s that behind you?
Court.
Nothing but a Page, come to know if I wanted any thing. A Plague of her Hawks eyes! —
Sylv.
Gud b’w’y my dearest Love.
Court.
Gud b’w’y my Joy.
Sylv.
Nay, give me another. B’w’y Courtee.
Court.
B’w’y Sylvee. — So, is she gone again? — The Devil take me, if thou interruptest me any more.
[Locks the Door after her.
Enter Lady.
Lady.
Is that your Lady, Sir?
Court.
Yes; but I hope you’ll not think the worse of me, pretty One, for keeping a Wife Company now and then, for want of better.
Lady.
Can you be so kind, Sir, not to forget me? Do you remember me still, Captain?
Court.
Remember thee, Child! Is it possible for that Face to be ever blotted out of my Memory! — Though, the Devil eat me, if ever I saw it before, to the best of my knowledge.
Lady.
Where is your Lady gone Sir?
Court.
To Grubb-street, Jewel, for some Specimen Vitae.
Lady.
Specimen Vitae, Sir! Oh dear, what’s that?
Court.
Oh, come but quietly into the next Room, and I will shew thee what Specimen vitae is presently.
Lady.
You may, perhaps think a range of this freedom I take with you, Sir.
Court.
Not in the least, Child; it shews thy Generosity. — I love her now, for understanding her business, and coming close to the matter quickly.
Lady.
But, Sir, presuming on your Quondam Favours to me, I am come to beg your Advice in a matter of Law, which I am at present involv’d in: and if you please —
Court.
To retire a little in private? — Oh, thou couldst not have pick’d out such another Man for thy purpose: I am, may be, the best Lawyer in the World for Chamber-practice. And if I do not find out the Merits of thy Cause as soon as —
Lady.
Really, you are so good natur’d —
Court.
Grubb-street and Specimen Vitae, quotha! He that has the Palpitation of the Heart, and an Armful of this won’t cure him, let him die upon a Dung-hill, and be buried in a Ditch, I say. — This is the rarest Adventure.
[Exeunt Courtine and the Lady.
The SCENE changes to a Bed-Chamber.
Enter Beaugard in, as Dressing himself.
Beaug.
Heigho! Heigho! Boy, Imp, where art thou?
Dwarf.
Here: Your pleasure? What’s your pleasure, Sir?
Beaug.
What is’t o’Clock, Boy?
Dwarf.
Sir, in your World, by Computation, I guess it may be Afternoon.
Beaug.
A very pretty little Rascal, this; and a very extraordinary way of Proceeding, I am treated withal here: I have been abed, ’tis true, but the Devil a wink of sound Rest came near my Senses all the while; but broken Slumbers, Dreams, Starts, and sprawling from one side to the other, in hopes the fair Unknown that keeps this Castle might have been so good natur’d to have given a Stranger a Visit. This can be no less than some Romantick design of the little Fairy, that threatned she would cheat the Widow of me: — Now will I, for once, if she does attempt me, put on that monstrous Vertue, called Selfdenial, and be damnably constant. — What, Musick again! This is a merry Region, I’ll say that for it, where ever it be, Boy!
Dwarf.
Did you call, Sir?
Beaug.
My Cloaths, Monster; my Vestments: I hate a Dis-habiliee mortally: I long to be rigg’d, that I may be fit for Action, if Occasion should present it self.
[Dwarf dresses him.
A SONG.1.
Welcom Mortal to this place,
Where smiling Fate did send thee:
Snatch thy happy Minutes, as they pass;
Who knows how few attend thee!
2.
Floods of Ioy about thee roul,
And flow in endless measure.
Dip thy Wishes deep, and fill thy Soul
With Draughts of every Pleasure.
.
Feast thy Heart with Love’s Desire,
Thy Eyes with Beauties Charms:
With Imaginations fan the Fire.
Then stifle it in thy Arms.
4.
For, since Life’s a slippery Guest,
Whose Flight can’t be prevented;
Treat it, whilst it stays here, with the best,
And then ‘twill go contented.
Come you that attend on our Goddesses Will,
And sprinkle the Ground
With Perfumes around;
Shew him your Duty, and shew us your Skill.
Enter four Black Women, that dance to the same Measure of the Song, and sprinkle Sweets.
Circle him with Charms,
And raise in his Heart
Such Alarms,
As Cupid ne’er wrought by the Pow’r of his Dart.
They dance round him.
Fill all his Veins with a tender desire,
And then shew a Beauty to set ’em a fire;
Till kind panting Breasts to his Wound she apply,
Then on those white Pillows of Love let him die.
[The Dance ends.
Beaug.
Faith, and with all my heart; for I am weary of the lingring Disease, and long to taste my Mortality most mightily. Hah! A Banquet too, usher’d in by a couple of Cupids! Pretty innocent Contrivance! Well, here’s no fear of starving, that’s one comfort.
Two Cupids run in a Table furnish’d.
Now, my dear Musicians, would ye be but as good as yo
ur word, and shew me the Beauty you have so prepared me for! — But then, my Widow! my Dear, Generous, Noble-hearted Widow! She that loves Liberty as I do. She that defies Matrimony as I do too. Shall I turn Recreant, and be false to her? Ah Dardevill, Dardevill! How I want thee to help me out in this Case of Conscience a little!
Enter Dardevill.
Dard.
Beaugard, Where art thou?
Beaug.
Ah dear Damnation! I was just now heartily wishing for thee.
Dard.
Such News! Such Tidings! Such a Discovery!
Beaug.
Hah! What’s the matter, Man? —
Dard.
Only six and fifty Virgins apiece for us, that’s all; pretty little blushing opening Buds, you Rogue, that never had so much as a blast of Masculine Breath upon them yet. — What’s here? A Banquet ready! Nay, then I am satisfied. Never were Heroes so inchanted as we are.
Beaug.
But where are the Virgins, Dardevill? the Virgins!
Dard.
There’s only one of’em, Child; only one; — but such a one, my Souldier. —
Beaug.
Is there but one then?
Dard.
That’s no matter, Man; I’ll be contented till thou hast done with her: I hate a new Conveniency that was never practised upon; ’tis like a new Shooe that was never worn, wrings and hurts ones Foot basely and scurvily. I love my ease, I.
Beaug.
But is she very Lovely?
Dard.
Such a Swinger, you Dog! she’ll make thy Heart bound like a Tennis Ball, at the sight of her: with a Majestick stately Shape and Motion.
Beaug.
Well.
Dard.
A Lovely, Angelical, Commanding Face.
Beaug.
By Heavens.
Dard.
With two Triumphant, Rolling, Murdering Eyes, that swear at you ev’ry time you look upon her.
Beaug.
Stand off, stand off, I say; she’s mine this Minute. But then again, my Widow! — Hah! — Mask’d too; when the Devil shall I see a Woman with her own natural Face again? Madam —
Lady.
Be pleas’d, Sir, to repose your self a little; there is a small Account, Sir, to be adjusted betwixt you and I. Where are my Servants? Who is it waits there?
[Several Men Vizarded, and Arm’d, appear at the Doors.
Beaug.
What the Devil can be the meaning of this now? I am not to be murdered, I hope, after all this Ceremony and Preparation.
Dard.
Murder’d, in the Devil’s Name? Here is great fear of being murder’d, truly.
Lady.
Come Sir, sit down Sir.
Beaug.
Madam, I’ll obey you.
Lady.
I doubt not, Sir, but, since your coming hither,
You are much surpris’d, and wonder at your Treatment.
Dard.
So, now the Fardle’s opened, we shall see what is in it.