Chapter X: Prologue: , (1)

Spoken by Mr. _Wilks_.

_This play took birth from principles of truth,
To make amends for errors past, of youth.
A bard, that's now no more, in riper days,
Conscious review'd the licence of his plays:
And tho' applause his wanton muse had fir'd,
Himself condemn'd what sensual minds admir'd.
At length, he own'd, that plays should let you see
Not only, What you are, but ought to be;
Though vice was natural, 'twas never meant
The stage should shew it, but for punishment!
Warm with that thought, his Muse once more took flame,
Resolv'd to bring licentious life to shame.
Such was the piece his latest pen design'd,
But left no traces of his plan behind.
Luxuriant scenes unprun'd or half contriv'd;
Yet thro' the mass his native fire surviv'd:
Rough, as rich ore, in mines the treasure lay,
Yet still 'twas rich, and forms at length a play.
In which the bold compiler boasts no merit,
But that his pains have sav'd your scenes of spirit.
Not scenes that would a noisy joy impart,
But such as hush the mind and warm the heart.
From praise of hands no sure account he draws,
But fixt attention is sincere applause:
If then (for hard you'll own the task) his art
Can to those embryon-scenes new life impart,
The living proudly would exclude his lays,
And to the buried bard resign the praise._

Dramatis Personæ.

MEN.

Lord _Townly_, of a regular life, Mr. _Wilks_.

Mr. _Manly_, an admirer of Lady _Grace_, Mr. _Mills_ sen.

Sir _Francis Wronghead_, a country gentleman, Mr. _Cibber_, sen.

Squire _Richard_, his son, a mere whelp, Young _Wetherelt_.

Count _Basset_, a gamester, Mr. _Bridgewater_.

_John Moody_, servant to Sir _Francis_, } Mr. _Miller_.
an honest clown, }

WOMEN.

Lady _Townly_, immoderate in her } Mrs. _Oldfield_.
pursuit of pleasures, }

Lady _Grace_, sister to Lady _Townly_, } Mrs. _Porter_.
of exemplary virtue, }

Lady _Wronghead_, wife to Sir _Francis_, } Mrs. _Thurmond_.
inclin'd to be a fine lady, }

Miss _Jenny_, her daughter, pert and } Mrs. _Cibber_.
forward, }

Mrs _Motherly_, one that lets lodgings, Mrs. _Moore_.

_Myrtilla_, her niece, seduced by the } Mrs. _Grace_.
count, }

Mrs. _Trusty_, Lady _Townly_'s woman, Mrs. _Mills_.

Masqueraders, Constable, Servants, &c.

_The ~+SCENE+~ Lord ~Townly~'s House, and
sometimes Sir ~Francis~'s Lodgings._

THE

=Provok'd Husband=;

OR,

_A_ =Journey= _to_ =London=.

+ACT+ I. +SCENE+ I.

+SCENE+, _Lord ~Townly~'s Apartment._

_Lord ~Townly~, solus._

Why did I marry!--Was it not evident, my plain, rational scheme of life was impracticable, with a woman of so different a way of thinking?--Is there one article of it, that she has not broke in upon?--Yes,--let me do her justice--her reputation--That--I have no reason to believe is in question--but then how long her profligate course of pleasures may make her able to keep it--is a shocking question! and her presumption while she keeps it--insupportable! for on the pride of that single virtue she seems to lay it down, as a fundamental point, that the free indulgence of every other vice, this fertile town affords, is the birth-right prerogative of a woman of quality--Amazing! that a creature so warm in the pursuit of her pleasures, should never cast one thought towards her happiness--Thus, while she admits no lover, she thinks it a greater merit still, in her chastity, not to care for her husband; and while she herself is solacing in one continual round of cards and good company, he, poor wretch! is left, at large, to take care of his own contentment----'Tis time, indeed, some care were taken, and speedily there shall be----Yet let me not be rash----Perhaps this disappointment of my heart may make me too impatient; and some tempers when reproached grow more untractable.--Here she comes--Let me be calm a while.

_Enter Lady ~Townly~._

Going out so soon after dinner, Madam?

Lady _Town._ Lard, my Lord! what can I possibly do at home?

Lord _Town._ What does my sister, Lady _Grace_, do at home?

Lady _Town._ Why, that is to me amazing! Have you ever any pleasure at home!

Lord _Town._ It might be in your power, Madam, I confess, to make it a little more comfortable to me.

Lady _Town._ Comfortable! and so, my good Lord, you would really have a woman of my rank and spirit stay at home to comfort her husband! Lord! what notions of life some men have!

Lord _Town._ Don't you think, Madam, some ladies' notions full as extravagant?

Lady _Town._ Yes, my Lord, when the tame doves live cooped within the penn of your precepts, I do think 'em prodigious indeed!

Lord _Town._ And when they fly wild about this town, Madam, pray what must the world think of 'em then?

Lady _Town._ Oh! this world is not so ill-bred as to quarrel with any woman for liking it.

Lord _Town._ Nor am I, Madam, a husband so well-bred, as to bear my wife's being so fond of it; in short, the life you lead, Madam----

Lady _Town._ Is, to me, the pleasantest life in the world.

Lord _Town._ I should not dispute your taste, Madam, if a woman had a right to please nobody but herself.

Lady _Town._ Why, whom would you have her please?

Lord _Town._ Sometimes her husband.

Lady _Town._ And don't you think a husband under the same obligation?

Lord _Town._ Certainly.

Lady _Town._ Why then we are agreed, my Lord--For if I never go abroad 'till I am weary of being at home----which you know is the case----is it not equally reasonable, not to come home till one's weary of being abroad!

Lord _Town._ If this be your rule of life, Madam, 'tis time to ask you one serious question?

Lady _Town._ Don't let it be long a coming then----for I am in haste.

Lord _Town._ Madam, when I am serious, I expect a serious answer.

Lady _Town._ Before I know the question?

Lord _Town._ Psha----have I power, Madam, to make you serious by intreaty?

Lady _Town._ You have.

Lord _Town._ And you promise to answer me sincerely?

Lady _Town._ Sincerely.

Lord _Town._ Now then recollect your thoughts, and tell me seriously, Why you married me?

Lady _Town._ You insist upon truth, you say?

Lord _Town._ I think I have a right to it.

Lady _Town._ Why then, my Lord, to give you, at once, a proof of my obedience and sincerity----I think----I married--to take off that restraint, that lay upon my pleasures, while I was a single woman.

Lord _Town._ How, Madam! is any woman under less restraint after marriage, than before it?

Lady _Town._ O my Lord! my Lord! they are quite different creatures! Wives have infinite liberties in life, that would be terrible in an unmarried woman to take.

Lord _Town._ Name one.

Lady _Town._ Fifty, if you please!----to begin then, in the morning----A married woman may have men at her toilet, invite them to dinner, appoint them a party, in a stage box at the play; ingross the conversation there, call 'em by their christian names; talk louder than the players;----From thence jaunt into the city----take a frolicksome supper at an _India_ house----perhaps in her _gaieté de cœur_ toast a pretty fellow--Then clatter again to this end of the town, break with the morning, into an assembly, croud to the hazard-table, throw a familiar _levant_ upon some sharp lurching man of quality, and if he demands his money, turn it off with a loud laugh, and cry----you'll owe it him to vex him! ha! ha!

Lord _Town._ Prodigious!

[_Aside._

Lady _Town._ These now, my Lord, are some few of the many modish amusements, that distinguish the privilege of a wife, from that of a single woman.

Lord _Town._ Death! Madam, what law has made these liberties less scandalous in a wife, than in an unmarried woman?

Lady _Town._ Why, the strongest law in the world, custom----custom time out of mind, my Lord.

Lord _Town._ Custom, Madam, is the law of fools: but it shall never govern me.

Lady _Town._ Nay, then, my Lord, 'tis time for me to observe the laws of prudence.

Lord _Town._ I wish I could see an instance of it.

Lady _Town._ You shall have one this moment, my Lord; for I think, when a man begins to lose his temper at home; if a woman has any prudence, why----she'll go abroad 'till he comes to himself again.

[_Going._

Lord _Town._ Hold, Madam--I am amazed, you are not more uneasy at the life we lead! You don't want sense; and yet seem void of all humanity: for, with a blush I say it, I think, I have not wanted love.

Lady _Town._ Oh! don't say that, my Lord, if you suppose I have my senses.

Lord _Town._ What is it I have done to you? what can you complain of?

Lady _Town._. Oh! nothing in the least: 'Tis true, you have heard me say; I have owed my Lord _Lurcher_ an hundred pounds these three weeks----but what then?----a husband is not liable to his wife's debts of honour, you know,----and if a silly woman will be uneasy about money she can't be sued for, what's that to him? as long as he loves her, to be sure she can have nothing to complain of.

Lord _Town._ By heaven, if my whole fortune thrown into your lap, could make you delight in the chearful duties of a wife, I should think myself a gainer by the purchase.

Lady _Town._ That is, my Lord, I might receive your whole estate, provided you were sure I would not spend a shilling of it.

Lord _Town._ No, Madam; were I master of your heart, your pleasures would be mine; but different as they are, I'll feed even your follies to deserve it----Perhaps you may have some other trifling debts of honour abroad that keep you out of humour at home----at least it shall not be my fault, if I have not more of your company----There, there's a bill of five hundred----and now, Madam----

Lady _Town._ And now, my Lord, down to the ground I thank you----Now am I convinc'd, were I weak enough to love this man, I should never get a single guinea from him.

[_Aside._

Lord _Town._ If it be no offence, Madam----

Lady _Town._ Say what you please, my Lord; I am in that harmony of spirits, it is impossible to put me out of humour.

Lord _Town._ How long then in reason do you think that sum ought to last you?

Lady _Town._ Oh, my dear, dear Lord! now you have spoiled all again! How is it possible I should answer for an event, that so utterly depends upon fortune? But to shew you that I am more inclined to get money, than to throw it away----I have a strong prepossession, that with this five hundred, I shall win five thousand.

Lord _Town._ Madam, if you were to win ten thousand, it would be no satisfaction to me.

Lady _Town._ O! the churl! ten thousand! what! not so much as wish I might win ten thousand!----Ten thousand! O! the charming sum! what infinite pretty things might a woman of spirit do, with ten thousand guineas! O' my conscience, if she were a woman of true spirit--she--she might lose 'em all again.

Lord _Town._ And I had rather it should be so, Madam; provided I could be sure, that were the last you would lose.

Lady _Town._ Well, my Lord, to let you see I design to play all the good housewife I can; I am now going to a party of _Quadrille_, only to piddle with a little of it at poor two guineas a fish, with the Dutchess of _Quiteright_.

[_Exit Lady ~Townly~._

Lord _Town._ Insensible creature! neither reproaches, or indulgence, kindness or severity, can wake her to the least reflection! Continual licence has lull'd her into such a lethargy of care, that she speaks of her excesses with the same easy confidence, as if they were so many virtues. What a turn has her head taken?----But how to cure it----I am afraid the physic must be strong that reaches her----Lenitives, I see, are to no purpose----take my friend's opinion----_Manly_ will speak freely----my sister with tenderness to both sides. They know my case----I'll talk with 'em.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Mr. _Manly_, my Lord has sent to know, if your Lordship was at home.

Lord _Town._ They did not deny me?

_Serv._ No, my Lord.

Lord _Town._ Very well; step up to my sister, and say, I desire to speak with her.

_Serv._ Lady _Grace_ is here, my Lord.

[_Exit Serv._

_Enter Lady ~Grace~._

Lord _Town._ So, Lady fair; what pretty weapon have you been killing your time with!

Lady _Grace._ A huge folio that has almost killed me--I think I have half read my eyes out.

Lord _Town._ O! you should not pore so much just after dinner, child.

Lady _Grace._ That's true, but any body's thoughts are better than always one's own, you know.

Lord _Town._ Who's there?

_Enter Servant._

Leave word at the door I am at home to nobody but Mr. _Manly_.

Lady _Grace._ And why is he excepted, pray, my Lord?

Lord _Town._ I hope, Madam, you have no objection to his company?

Lady _Grace._ Your particular orders upon my being here, look, indeed, as if you thought I had not.

Lord _Town._ And your Ladyship's enquiry into the reason of those orders, shews, at least, it was not a matter indifferent to you!

Lady _Grace._ Lord! you make the oddest constructions, brother!

Lord _Town._ Look you my grave Lady _Grace_----in one serious word--I wish you had him.

Lady _Grace._ I can't help that.

Lord _Town._ Ha! you can't help it! ha! ha! The flat simplicity of that reply was admirable!

Lady _Grace._ Pooh! you teize one, brother!

Lord _Town._ Come, I beg pardon, child----this is not a point, I grant you, to trifle upon; therefore, I hope you'll give me leave to be serious.

Lady _Grace._ If you desire it, brother! though upon my word, as to Mr. _Manly_'s having any serious thoughts of me--I know nothing of it.

Lord _Town._ Well----there's nothing wrong, in your making a doubt of it----But, in short, I find, by his conversation of late, that he has been looking round the world for a wife; and if you were to look round the world for a husband, he's the first man I would give to you.

Lady _Grace._ Then, whenever he makes me an offer, brother, I will certainly tell you of it.

Lord _Town._ O! that's the last thing he'll do; he'll never make you an offer, 'till he's pretty sure it won't be refus'd.

Lady _Grace._ Now you make me curious. Pray! did he ever make an offer of that kind to you?

Lord _Town._ Not directly; but that imports nothing; he is a man too well acquainted with the female world, to be brought into a high opinion of any one woman, without some well examined proof of her merit: Yet I have reason to believe, that your good sense, your turn of mind, and your way of life, have brought him to so favourable a one of you, that a few days will reduce him to talk plainly to me: Which as yet, (notwithstanding our friendship) I have neither declin'd nor encouraged him to.

Lady _Grace._ I am mighty glad we are so near in our way of thinking: For, to tell you the truth, he is much upon the same terms with me: You know he has a satirical turn; but never lashes any folly, without giving due encomiums to its opposite virtue: and upon such occasions, he is sometimes particular, in turning his compliments upon me, which I don't receive, with any reserve, lest he should imagine I take them to myself.

Lord _Town._ You are right, child, when a man of merit makes his addresses: good sense may give him an answer, without scorn, or coquetry.

Lady _Grace._ Hush! he's here----

_Enter Mr. ~Manly~._

_Man._ My Lord! your most obedient.

Lord _Town._ Dear _Manly_! yours----I was thinking to send to you.

_Man._ Then, I am glad I am here, my Lord----Lady _Grace_, I kiss your hands!----What, only you two! How many visits may a man make, before he falls into such unfashionable company? A brother and sister soberly sitting at home, when the whole town is a gadding! I question if there is so particular a _tête à tête_, again, in the whole parish of St. _James_'s.

Lady _Grace._ Fy! fy! Mr. _Manly_; how censorious you are!

_Man._ I had not made the reflexion, Madam, but that I saw you an exception to it--Where's my lady?

Lord _Town._ That I believe is impossible to guess.

_Man._ Then I won't try, my Lord----

Lord _Town._ But 'tis probable I may hear of her by that time I am four or five hours in bed.

_Man._ Now, if that were my case, I believe I should----But I beg pardon, my Lord.

Lord _Town._ Indeed, Sir, you shall not: You will oblige me, if you speak out; for it was upon this head, I wanted to see you.

_Man._ Why, then, my Lord, since you oblige me to proceed----if that were my case----I believe I should certainly sleep in another house.

Lady _Grace._ How do you mean?

_Man._ Only a compliment, Madam.

Lady _Grace._ A compliment!

_Man._ Yes, Madam, in rather turning myself out of doors than her.

Lady _Grace._ Don't you think that would be going too far?

_Man._ I don't know but it might, Madam; for in strict justice, I think she ought rather to go than I.

Lady _Grace._ This is new doctrine, Mr. _Manly_.

_Man._ As old, Madam, as _Love_, _Honour_, and _Obey_! When a woman will stop at nothing that's wrong, why should a man balance any thing that's right.

Lady _Grace._ Bless me, but this is fomenting things--

_Man._ Fomentations, Madam, are sometimes necessary to dispel rumours; tho' I don't directly advise my Lord to do this----This is only what, upon the same provocation, I would do myself.

Lady _Grace._ Ay! ay! You would do! Batchelors wives, indeed, are finely governed.

_Man._ If the married mens were as well----I am apt to think we should not see so many mutual plagues taking the air, in separate coaches!

Lady _Grace._ Well! but suppose it was your own case; would you part with a wife because she now and then stays out, in the best company?

Lord _Town._ Well said, Lady _Grace_! come, stand up for the privilege of your sex! This is like to be a warm debate! I shall edify.

_Man._ Madam, I think a wife, after midnight, has no occasion to be in better company than her husband; and that frequent unreasonable hours make the best company----the worst company she can fall into.

Lady _Grace._ But if people of condition are to keep company with one another; how is it possible to be done unless one conforms to their hours?

_Man._ I can't find that any woman's good breeding obliges her to conform to other people's vices.

Lord _Town._ I doubt, child, we are got a little on the wrong side of the question.

Lady _Grace._ Why so, my Lord? I can't think the case so bad, as Mr. _Manly_ states it----People of quality are not ty'd down to the rules of those, who have their fortunes to make.

_Man._ No people, Madam, are above being ty'd down to some rules, that have fortunes to lose.

Lady _Grace._ Pooh! I'm sure, if you were to take my side of the argument, you would be able to say something more for it.

Lord _Town._ Well, what say you to that, _Manly_?

_Man._ Why, 'troth, my Lord, I have something to say.

Lady _Grace._ Ay! that I would be glad to hear, now!

Lord _Town._ Out with it!

_Man._ Then in one word, this, my Lord, I have often thought that the mis-conduct of my Lady has, in a great measure, been owing to your Lordship's treatment of her.

Lady _Grace._ Bless me!

Lord _Town._ My treatment!

_Man._ Ay, my Lord, you so idoliz'd her before marriage, that you even indulg'd her like a mistress, after it; In short, you continued the lover, when you should have taken up the husband.

Lady _Grace._ O frightful! this is worse than t'other! can a husband love a wife too well!

_Man._ As easy, Madam, as a wife may love her husband too little.

Lord _Town._ So! you two are never like to agree, I find.

Lady _Grace._ Don't be positive, brother;----I am afraid we are both of a mind already. [_Aside._] And do you, at this rate, ever intend to be married, Mr. _Manly_?

_Man._ Never, Madam; 'till I can meet a woman that likes my doctrine.

Lady _Grace._ 'Tis pity but your mistress should hear it.

_Man._ Pity me, Madam, when I marry the woman that won't hear it.

Lady _Grace._ I think, at least, he can't say that's me.

[_Aside._

_Man._ And so, my Lord, by giving her more power than was needful, she has none where she wants it; having such entire possession of you, she is not mistress of herself! And, mercy on us! how many fine womens heads have been turn'd upon the same occasion!

Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! 'tis too true! there's the source of my disquiet! she knows and has abused her power: Nay, I am still so weak (with shame I speak it) 'tis not an hour ago, that in the midst of my impatience--I gave her another bill for five hundred to throw away.

_Man._ Well----my Lord! to let you see I am sometimes upon the side of good nature, I won't absolutely blame you; for the greater your indulgence, the more you have to reproach her with.

Lady _Grace._ Ay, Mr. _Manly_! here now, I begin to come in with you: Who knows, my Lord, you may have a good account of your kindness!

_Man._ That, I am afraid, we had not best depend upon: But since you have had so much patience, my Lord, even go on with it a day or two more; and upon her Ladyship's next sally, be a little rounder in your expostulation; if that don't work--drop her some cool hints of a determin'd reformation, and leave her----to breakfast upon 'em.

Lord _Town._ You are perfectly right! how valuable is a friend, in our anxiety!

_Man._ Therefore to divert that, my Lord, I beg for the present, we may call another cause.

Lady _Grace._ Ay, for goodness sake let's have done with this.

Lord _Town._ With all my heart.

Lady _Grace._ Have you no news abroad, Mr. _Manly_?

_Man._ _A propos_----I have some, Madam; and I believe, my Lord, as extraordinary in its kind----

Lord _Town._ Pray let's have it.

_Man._ Do you know that your country neighbour, and my wise kinsman, Sir _Francis Wronghead_, is coming to town with his whole family?

Lord _Town._ The fool! what can be his business here?

_Man._ Oh! of the last importance, I'll assure you--No less than the business of the nation.

Lord _Town._ Explain!

_Man._ He has carried his election----against Sir _John Worthland_.

Lord _Town._ The Deuce! what! for----for----

_Man._ The famous borough of _Guzzledown_!

Lord _Town._ A proper representative, indeed.

Lady _Grace._ Pray, Mr. _Manly_, don't I know him?

_Man._ You have din'd with him, Madam, when I was last down with my Lord, at _Bellmont_.

Lady _Grace._ Was not that he that got a little merry before dinner, and overset the tea-table, in making his compliments to my Lady?

_Man._ The same.

Lady _Grace._ Pray what are his circumstances? I know but very little of him.

_Man._ Then he is worth your knowing, I can tell you, Madam. His estate, if clear, I believe, might be a good two thousand pounds a year: Though as it was left him, saddled with two jointures, and two weighty mortgages upon it, there is no saying what it is----But that he might be sure never to mend it, he married a profuse young hussy, for love, without a penny of money! Thus having, like his brave ancestors, provided heirs for the family (for his dove breeds like a tame pigeon) he now finds children and interest-money make such a bawling about his ears, that at last he has taken the friendly advice of his kinsman, the good Lord _Danglecourt_, to run his estate two thousand pounds more in debt, to put the whole management of what's left into _Paul Pillage_'s hands, that he may be at leisure himself to retrieve his affairs by being a parliament-man.

Lord _Town._ A most admirable scheme, indeed!

_Man._ And with this politic prospect, he's now upon his journey to _London_----

Lord _Town._ What can it end in?

_Man._ Pooh! a journey into the country again.

Lord _Town._ And do you think he'll stir, 'till his money's gone? or at least 'till the session is over?

_Man._ If my intelligence is right, my Lord, he won't sit long enough to give his vote for a turnpike.

Lord _Town._ How so?

_Man._ O! a bitter business! he had scarce a vote, in the whole town, beside the returning officer: Sir _John_ will certainly have it heard at the bar of the house, and send him about his business again.

Lord _Town._ Then he has made a fine business of it indeed.

_Man._ Which, as far as my little interest will go, shall be done in as few days as possible.

Lady _Grace._ But why would you ruin the poor gentleman's fortune, Mr. _Manly_?

_Man._ No, Madam, I would only spoil his project, to save his fortune.

Lady _Grace._ How are you concern'd enough, to do either?

_Man._ Why, I have some obligations to the family, Madam: I enjoy at this time a pretty estate, which Sir _Francis_ was heir at law to: But----by his being a booby, the last will of an obstinate old uncle gave it to me.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ [_To ~Man~._] Sir, here's one of your servants from your house, desires to speak with you.

_Man._ Will you give him leave to come in, my Lord?

Lord _Town._ Sir----the ceremony's of your own making.

_Enter ~Manly~'s Servant._

_Man._ Well, _James_! what's the matter now?

_James._ Sir, here's _John Moody_'s just come to town; he says Sir _Francis_, and all the family, will be here to-night, and is in a great hurry to speak with you.

_Man._ Where is he?

_James._ At our house, Sir: He has been gaping and stumping about the streets, in his dirty boots, and asking every one he meets if they can tell him where he may have a good lodging for a parliament man, 'till he can hire a handsome whole house for himself and family, for the winter.

_Man._ I am afraid, my Lord, I must wait upon Mr. _Moody_.

Lord _Town._ Pr'ythee! let's have him here: he will divert us.

_Man._ O my Lord! he's such a cub! Not but he's so near common sense, that he passes for a wit in the family.

Lady _Grace._ I beg of all things we may have him: I am in love with Nature, let her dress be never so homely.

_Man._ Then desire him to come hither, _James_.

[_Exit ~James~._

Lady _Grace._ Pray what may be Mr. _Moody_'s post?

_Man._ Oh! his _Maître d' Hôtel_, his butler, his bailiff, his hind, his huntsman; and sometimes----his companion.

Lord _Town._ It runs in my head, that the moment this Knight has set him down in the house, he will get up, to give them the earliest proof of what importance he is to the public, in his own country.

_Man._ Yes, and when they have heard him, he will find, that his utmost importance stands valued at----sometimes being invited to dinner.

Lady _Grace._ And her Ladyship will make as considerable a figure, in her sphere too.

_Man._ That you may depend upon; for (if I don't mistake) she has ten times more of the jade in her, than she yet knows of; and she will so improve in this rich soil, in a month, that she will visit all the ladies that will let her into their houses; and run in debt to all the shopkeepers that will let her into their books: In short, before her important spouse has made five pounds by his eloquence at _Westminster_, she will have lost five hundred at dice and _Quadrille_, in the parish of St. _James_'s.

Lord _Town._ So that, by that time he is declared unduly elected, a swarm of duns will be ready for their money; and his worship----will be ready for a jail.

_Man._ Yes, yes, that I reckon will close the account of this hopeful journey to _London_----But see, here comes the fore-horse of the team!

_Enter John ~Moody~._

Oh! Honest _John_!

_John Moody._ Ad's waunds and heart, Measter _Manly_! I'm glad I ha' fun ye. Lawd! lawd! give me a buss! Why that's friendly naw! Flesh! I thought we should never ha' got hither! Well! and how d'ye do, Measter?----Good lack! I beg pardon for my bauldness----I did not see 'at his Honour was here.

Lord _Town._ Mr. _Moody_, your servant; I am glad to see you in _London_. I hope all the family is well.

_John Moody._ Thanks be praised your honour, they are in pretty good heart; thof' we have had a power of crosses upo' the road.

Lady _Grace._ I hope my Lady has had no hurt, Mr. _Moody_.

_John Moody._ Noa, an't please your Ladyship, she was never in better humour: There's money enough stirring now.

_Man._ What has been the matter, _John_?

_John Moody._ Why, we came up in such a hurry, you mun think, that our tackle was not so tight as it should be.

_Man._ Come, tell us all----Pray how do they travel?

_John Moody._ Why, i'the awld coach, Measter, and 'cause my lady loves to do things handsom, to be sure, she would have a couple of cart-horses clapt to th' four old geldings, that neighbours might see she went up to _London_ in her coach and six! And so _Giles Joulter_, the ploughman, rides postillion!

_Man._ Very well! the journey sets out as it should do. [_Aside._] What, do they bring all the children with them too?

_John Moody._ Noa, noa, only the younk squoire, and Miss _Jenny_. The other foive are all out at board, at half a crown a head, a week, with _Joan Growse_ at _Smoke-Dunghill_ farm.

_Man._ Good again! a right _English_ academy for younger children!

_John Moody._ Anon, Sir.

[_Not understanding him._

Lady _Grace._ Poor souls! What will become of 'em?

_John Moody._ Nay, nay, for that matter, Madam, they are in very good hands: _Joan_ loves 'em as thof' they were all her own: For she was wet-nurse to every mother's babe of 'um----Ay, ay, they'll ne'er want for a full belly there!

Lady _Grace._ What simplicity!

_Man._ The Lud 'a mercy on all good folks! what work will these people make!

[_Holding up his hands._

Lord _Town._ And when do you expect him here, _John_?

_John Moody._ Why we were in hopes to ha' come yesterday, an' it had no' been, that th' owld wheaze-belly horse tir'd: And then we were so cruelly loaden, that the two fore wheels came crash! down at once, in _Waggon-Rut Lane_, and there we lost four hours 'fore we could set things to rights again.

_Man._ So they bring all their baggage with the coach then?

_John Moody._ Ay, ay, and good store on't there is----Why my lady's geer alone were as much as fill'd four portmantel trunks, besides the great deal-box, that heavy _Ralph_ and the monkey sit upon behind.

Lord _Town_, Lady _Grace_, and _Man._ Ha! ha, ha!

Lady _Grace._ Well, Mr. _Moody_, and pray how many are they within the coach?

_John Moody._ Why there's my Lady and his Worship; and the younk squoire, and Miss _Jenny_, and the fat lap-dog, and my lady's maid, Mrs. _Handy_, and _Doll Tripe_ the cook, that's all----Only _Doll_ puked a little with riding backward, so they hoisted her into the coach-box--and then her stomach was easy.

Lady _Grace._ Oh! I see 'em! I see 'em go by me. Ah! ha!

[_Laughing._

_John Mood._ Then you mun think, measter, there was some stowage for the belly, as well as th' back too; such cargoes of plumb-cake, and baskets of tongues, and biscuits and cheese, and cold boil'd beef----And then in case of sickness, bottles of cherry-brandy, plague-water, sack, tent and strong-beer so plenty as made th' owld coach crack again! Mercy upon them! and send 'em all well to town, I say.

_Man._ Ay! And well out on't again, _John_.

_John Mood._ Ods bud! measter, you're a wise mon; and for that matter, so am I--Whoam's whoam, I say: I'm sure we got but little good, e'er sin' we turn'd our backs on't. Nothing but mischief! Some Devil's trick or other plagued us, aw th' dey lung! Crack goes one thing: Bawnce! goes another. Woa, says _Roger_----Then souse! we are all set fast in a slough, Whaw! cries Miss! Scream go the maids! and bawl! just as thof' they were stuck! and so, mercy on us! this was the trade from morning to night. But my Lady was in such a murrain haste to be here, that set out she would, thof' I told her it was _Childermas_ day.

_Man._ These ladies, these ladies, _John_----

_John Mood._ Ah, measter, I ha' seen a little of 'em; and I find that the best----when she's mended, won't ha' much goodness to spare.

Lord _Town._ Well said, _John_. Ha! ha!

_Man._ I hope at least that you and your good woman agree still.

_John Mood._ Ay! ay! much of a muchness. _Bridget_ sticks to me: Tho' as for her goodness--why, she was willing to come to _London_ too----But hawld a bit! Noa, noa, says I, there may be mischief enough done without you.

_Man._ Why that was bravely spoken, _John_, and like a man.

_John Mood._ Ah, weast heart, were Measter but hawf the Mon that I am----Ods wookers! thof' he'll speak stawtly too sometimes----But then he conno' hawld it----no! he conno' hawld it.

Lord _Town._ Lady _Grace_.

_Man._ Ha! ha! ha!

_John Mood._ Ods flesh! But I mun hye me whoam! th' Coach will be coming every hour naw----but Measter charg'd me to find your Worship out; for he has hugey business with you; and will certainly wait upon you, by that time he can put on a clean neckcloth.

_Man._ O _John_! I'll wait upon him.

_John Mood._ Why you wonno' be so kind, wull ye?

_Man._ If you'll tell me where you lodge.

_John Mood._ Just i'th' street next to where your Worship dwells, the sign of the _Golden Ball_----It's Gold all over; where they sell ribbands and flappits, and other sort of geer for Gentlewomen.

_Man._ A Milliner's?

_John Mood._ Ay, ay, one Mrs. _Motherly_: Waunds! she has a couple of clever girls there stitching i'th' foreroom.

_Man._ Yes, yes, she's a woman of good business, no doubt on't----Who recommended that house to you, _John_?

_John Mood._ The greatest good fortune in the world, sure! For as I was gaping about streets, who should look out of the window there, but the fine Gentleman, that was always riding by our Coach side, at _York_ Races----Count----_Basset_; ay, that's he.

_Man._ _Basset_? Oh, I remember; I know him by sight.

_John Mood._ Well! to be sure, as civil a Gentleman, to see to----

_Man._ As any sharper in town.

[_Aside._

_John Mood._ At York, he us'd to breakfast with my Lady every morning.

_Man._ Yes, yes, and I suppose her Ladyship will return his compliment here in town.

[_Aside._

_John Mood._ Well, Measter----

Lord _Town._ My Service to Sir _Francis_ and my Lady, _John_.

Lady _Grace._ And mine, pray Mr. _Moody_.

_John Mood._ Ay, your honors, they'll be proud on't, I dare say.

_Man._ I'll bring my compliments myself: So, honest _John_----

_John Mood._ Dear Measter _Manly_! the goodness of goodness bless and preserve you.

[_Exit ~John Moody~._

Lord _Town._ What a natural creature 'tis!

Lady _Grace._ Well! I can't but think _John_, in a wet afternoon in the country, must be very good company.

Lord _Town._ O! the _Tramontane_! If this were known at half the _quadrille_-tables in town, they would lay down their cards to laugh at you.

Lady _Grace._ And the minute they took them up again they would do the same at the losers----But to let you see, that I think good company may sometimes want cards to keep them together: what think you if we three sat soberly down, to kill an hour at _Ombre_?

_Man._ I shall be too hard for you, Madam.

Lady _Grace._ No matter! I shall have as much advantage of my Lord, as you have of me.

Lord _Town._ Say you so, Madam? Have at you then! Here! get the _ombre_-table, and cards.

[_Exit Lord ~Townly~._

Lady _Grace._ Come, Mr. _Manly_----I know you don't forgive me now!

_Man._ I don't know whether I ought to forgive your thinking so, Madam. Where do you imagine I could pass my time so agreeably?

Lady _Grace._ I'm sorry my Lord is not here to take share of the compliment----But he'll wonder what's become of us!

_Man._ I'll follow in a moment, Madam----

[_Exit ~Lady Grace~._

It must be so----she sees I love her----yet with what unoffending decency she avoids an explanation! How amiable is every hour of her conduct? What a vile opinion have I had of the whole sex, for these ten years past, which this sensible creature has recovered in less than one? Such a companion, sure, might compensate all the irksome disappointments, that pride, folly and falshood ever gave me!

Could women regulate, like her, their lives,
What _Halcyon_ days were in the gift of wives!
Vain rovers, then, might envy what they hate;
And only fools would mock the married state.

[_Exit._

+ACT+ II. +SCENE+ I.

+SCENE+, _Mrs._ Motherly's _House_.

_Enter Count ~Basset~ and Mrs. ~Motherly~._

Count _Bas._ I tell you there is not such a family in _England_, for you! do you think I would have gone out of your lodgings for any body, that was not sure to make you easy for the winter?

_Moth._ Nay, I see nothing against it, Sir, but the gentleman's being a parliament man: and when people may, as it were, think one impertinent, or be out of humour, you know, when a body comes to ask for one's own----

Count _Bas._ Psha! Pr'ythee never trouble thy head--His pay is as good as the bank!----Why, he has above two thousand a year!

_Moth._ Alas-a-day! that's nothing: Your people of ten thousand a year, have ten thousand things to do with it.

Count _Bas._ Nay, if you are afraid of being out of your money; what do you think of going a little with me, Mrs. _Motherly_?

_Moth._ As how?

Count _Bas._ Why I have a game in my head, in which, if you'll croup me, that is, help me to play it, you shall go five hundred to nothing.

_Moth._ Say you so?----Why then, I go, Sir----and now pray let's see your game.

Count _Bas._ Look you, in one word my cards lie thus--When I was down this summer at _York_, I happened to lodge in the same house with this Knight's lady, that's now coming to lodge with you.

_Moth._ Did you so, Sir?

Count _Bas._ And sometimes had the honour to breakfast, and pass an idle hour with her----

_Moth._ Very good; and here I suppose you would have the impudence to sup, and be busy with her.

Count _Bas._ Psha! pr'ythee hear me!

_Moth._ Is this your game? I would not give sixpence for it! What, you have a passion for her pin-money----no, no, country ladies are not so flush of it.

Count _Bas._ Nay, if you won't have patience----

_Moth._ One had need of a great deal, I am sure, to hear you talk at this rate! Is this your way of making my poor _Myrtilla_ easy?

Count _Bas._ Death! I shall do it still, if the woman will but let me speak----

_Moth._ Had not you a letter from her this morning?

Count _Bas._ I have it here in my pocket--this is it.

[_Shews it, and puts it up again._

_Moth._ Ay, but I don't find you have made any answer to it.

Count _Bas._ How the devil can I, if you won't hear me!

_Moth._ What! hear you talk of another woman?

Count _Bas._ O lud! O lud! I tell you, I'll make her fortune----'Ounds! I'll marry her.

_Moth._ A likely matter! if you would not do it when she was a maid, your stomach is not so sharp set now, I presume.

Count _Bas._ Hey day! why your blood begins to turn, my dear! the devil! you did not think I proposed to marry her myself!

_Moth._ If you don't, who the devil do you think will marry her?

Count _Bas._ Why, a fool----

_Moth._ Humph! there may be sense in that----

Count _Bas._ Very good----One for t'other then; if I can help her to a husband, why should not you come into my scheme of helping me to a wife?

_Moth._ Your pardon, Sir! ay! ay! in an honourable affair, you know you may command me----but pray where is this blessed wife and husband to be had?

Count _Bas._ Now have a little patience----You must know then, this country Knight, and his lady, bring up, in the coach with them, their eldest son and a daughter, to teach them to----wash their faces, and turn their toes out.

_Moth._ Good!

Count _Bas._ The son is an unlick'd whelp, about sixteen, just taken from school; and begins to hanker after every wench in the family: The daughter much of the same age, a pert, forward hussy, who having eight thousand pound left her by an old doating grandmother, seems to have a devilish mind to be doing in her way too.

_Moth._ And your design is to put her into business for life?

Count _Bas._ Look you, in short, Mrs. _Motherly_, we gentlemen whose occasional chariots roll, only, upon the four aces, are liable sometimes you know, to have a wheel out of order: Which, I confess, is so much my case at present, that my dapple greys are reduced to a pair of ambling chairmen: Now, if with your assistance, I can whip up this young jade into a hackney-coach, I may chance, in a day or two after, to carry her in my own chariot _en famille_, to an opera. Now what do you say to me?

_Moth._ Why, I shall not sleep--for thinking of it. But how will you prevent the family's smoaking your design?

Count _Bas._ By renewing my addresses to the mother.

_Moth._ And how will the daughter like that, think you?

Count _Bas._ Very well----whilst it covers her own affair.

_Moth._ That's true----it must do----but, as you say, one for t'other, Sir, I stick to that--if you don't do my niece's business with the son, I'll blow you with the daughter, depend upon't.

Count _Bas._ It's a bett--pay as we go, I tell you, and the five hundred shall be staked in a third hand.

_Moth._ That's honest----But here comes my niece! shall we let her into the secret?

Count _Bas._ Time enough! may be I may touch upon it.

_Enter ~Myrtilla~._

_Moth._ So, niece, are all the rooms done out, and the beds sheeted?

_Myr._ Yes, Madam, but Mr. _Moody_ tells us the lady always burns wax, in her own chamber, and we have none in the house.

_Moth._ Odso! then I must beg your pardon, Count; this is a busy time, you know.

[_Exit Mrs. ~Motherly~._

Count _Bas._ _Myrtilla_! how dost do, child?

_Myr._ As well as a losing gamester can.

Count _Bas._ Why, what have you lost?

_Myr._ What I shall never recover; and what's worse, you that have won it, don't seem to be much the better for't.

Count _Bas._ Why child, dost thou ever see any body overjoyed for winning a deep stake, six months after 'tis over?

_Myr._ Would I had never play'd for it!

Count _Bas._ Psha! Hang these melancholy thoughts; we may be friends still.

_Myr._ Dull ones.

Count _Bas._ Useful ones perhaps----suppose I should help thee to a good husband?

_Myr._ I suppose you think any one good enough that will take me off your hands.

Count _Bas._ What do you think of the young country 'Squire, the heir of the family, that's coming to lodge here?

_Myr._ How should I know what to think of him?

Count _Bas._ Nay, I only give you the hint, child; it may be worth your while, at least, to look about you--Hark! what bustle's that without.

_Enter Mrs. ~Motherly~ in haste._

_Moth._ Sir! Sir! the gentleman's coach is at the door! they are all come!

Count _Bas._ What, already?

_Moth._ They are just getting out!----won't you step and lead in my Lady? Do you be in the way, Niece! I must run and receive them.

[_Exit Mrs. ~Motherly~._

Count _Bas._ And think of what I told you.

[_Exit ~Count~._

_Myr._ Ay! ay! you have left me enough to think of, as long as I live----a faithless fellow! I'm sure I have been true to him; and for that very reason, he wants to be rid of me: But while women are weak, men will be rogues! And for a bane to both their joys and ours; when our vanity indulges them, in such innocent favours as make them adore us; we can never be well, 'till we grant them the very one, that puts an end to their devotion--But here comes my aunt, and the company.

_Mrs. ~Motherly~ returns shewing in Lady ~Wronghead~,
led by Count ~Basset~._

_Moth._ If your Ladyship pleases to walk into this parlour, Madam, only for the present, 'till your servants have got all your things in.

Lady _Wrong._ Well! dear Sir, this is so infinitely obliging!--I protest it gives me pain tho' to turn you out of your lodging thus!

Count _Bas._ No trouble in the least, Madam; we single fellows are soon mov'd; besides, Mrs. _Motherly_'s my old acquaintance, and I could not be her hindrance.

_Moth._ The Count is so well bred, Madam, I dare say he would do a great deal more, to accommodate your Ladyship.

Lady _Wrong._ O dear Madam!----A good well bred sort of woman.

[_Apart to the ~Count~._

Count _Bas._ O Madam, she is very much among people of quality, she is seldom without them, in her house.

Lady _Wrong._ Are there a good many people of quality in this street, Mrs. _Motherly_?

_Moth._ Now your Ladyship is here, Madam, I don't believe there is a house without them.

Lady _Wrong._ I am mighty glad of that: for really I think people of quality should always live among one another.

Count _Bas._ 'Tis what one would choose indeed, Madam.

Lady _Wrong._ Bless me! but where are the children all this while?

_Moth._ Sir _Francis_, Madam, I believe is taking care of them.

Sir _Fran._ [_Within._] _John Moody_! stay you by the coach, and see all our things out--Come, children.

_Moth._ Here they are, Madam.

_Enter Sir ~Francis~, Squire ~Richard~, and Miss ~Jenny~._

Sir _Fran._ Well, Count! I mun say it, this was koynd, indeed!

Count _Bas._ Sir _Francis_! give me leave to bid you welcome to _London_.

Sir _Fran._ Psha! how dost do, mon----waunds, I'm glad to see thee! A good sort of a house this!

Count _Bas._ Is not that master _Richard_?

Sir _Fran._ Ey! ey! that's young hopeful----why dost not baw, _Dick_?

Squ. _Rich._ So I do, feyther.

Count _Bas._ Sir I'm glad to see you----I protest Mrs. _Jane_ is grown so, I should not have known her.

Sir _Fran._ Come forward, _Jenny_.

_Jenny._ Sure, papa, do you think I don't know how to behave myself?

Count _Bas._ If I have permission to approach her, Sir _Francis_.

_Jenny._ Lord, Sir, I'm in such a frightful pickle----

[_Salute._

Count _Bas._ Every dress that's proper must become you, Madam,----you have been a long journey.

_Jenny._ I hope you will see me in a better, to-morrow, Sir.

[_Lady ~Wrong.~ whispers Mrs. ~Moth.~ pointing to ~Myrtilla~._

_Moth._ Only a niece of mine, Madam, that lives with me: she will be proud to give your Ladyship any assistance in her power.

Lady _Wrong._ A pretty sort of a woman.----_Jenny_, you two must be acquainted.

_Jenny._ O, Mama! I am never strange, in a strange place!

[_Salutes ~Myrtilla~._

_Myr._ You do me a great deal of honour, Madam----Madam, your Ladyship's welcome to _London_.

_Jenny._ Mama! I like her prodigiously! she call'd me my Ladyship.

Squ. _Rich._ Pray mother, mayn't I be acquainted with her too!

Lady _Wrong._ You, you clown! stay 'till you learn a little more breeding first.

Sir _Fran._ Od's heart! my Lady _Wronghead_! why do you balk the lad? how should he ever learn breeding, if he does not put himself forward?

Squ. _Rich._ Why ay, feather, does moather think 'at I'd be uncivil to her?

_Myr._ Master has so much good-humour, Madam, he would soon gain upon any body.

[_He kisses ~Myr~._

Squ. _Rich._ Lo' you there, Moather: and you would but be quiet, she and I should do well enough.

Lady _Wrong._ Why, how now, sirrah! Boys must not be so familiar.

Squ. _Rich._ Why, an' I know nobody, haw the murrain mun I pass my time here, in a strange place? Naw you and I and sister, forsooth, sometimes in an afternoon moy play at one and thirty bone-ace, purely.

_Jenny._ Speak for yourself, Sir! D'ye think I play at such clownish games?

Squ. _Rich._ Why and you woant yo' ma' let it aloane; then she, and I, mayhap, will have a bawt at All-fours, without you.

Sir _Fran._ Noa! Noa! _Dick_, that won't do neither; you mun learn to make one at Ombre, here, Child.

_Myr._ If Master pleases, I'll shew it him.

Squ. _Rich._ What! the _Humber_! Hoy day! why does our River run to this Tawn, Feather?

Sir _Fran._ Pooh! you silly Tony! Ombre is a geam at cards, that the better sort of people play three together at.

Squ. _Rich._ Nay the moare the merrier, I say; but Sister is always so cross grain'd----

_Jenny._ Lord! this Boy is enough to deaf people----and one has really been stuft up in a Coach so long, that----Pray Madam----could not I get a little powder for my hair?

_Myr._ If you please to come along with me, Madam.

[_Exeunt ~Myr.~ and ~Jenny~._

Squ. _Rich._ What, has Sister ta'en her away naw! mess, I'll go and have a little game with 'em.

[_Ex. after them._

Lady _Wrong._ Well, Count, I hope you won't so far change your lodgings, but you will come, and be at home here sometimes?

Sir _Fran._ Ay, ay! pr'ythee come and take a bit of mutton with us, naw and tan, when thouh'st nowght to do.

Count _Bas._ Well, Sir _Francis_, you shall find I'll make but very little ceremony.

Sir _Fran._ Why ay naw, that's hearty!

_Moth._ Will your Ladyship please to refresh yourself, with a dish of tea, after your fatigue? I think I have pretty good.

Lady _Wrong._ If you please, Mrs. _Motherly_; but I believe we had best have it above stairs.

_Moth._ Very well, Madam: it shall be ready immediately.

[_Exit Mrs. ~Motherly~._

Lady _Wrong._ Won't you walk up, Sir?

Sir _Fran._ _Moody!_

Count _Bas._ Shan't we stay for Sir _Francis_, Madam?

Lady _Wrong._ Lard! don't mind him! he will come if he likes it.

_Sir Fran._ Ay, ay! ne'er heed me----I ha' things to look after.

[_Exeunt Lady ~Wrong.~ and ~Count Bas~._

_Enter ~John Moody~._

_John Moody._ Did you Worship want muh?

Sir _Fran._ Ay, is the coach clear'd? and all our things in?

_John Moody._ Aw but a few band-boxes, and the nook that's left o'th' goose poy----But a plague on him, th' Monkey has gin us the slip, I think----I suppose he's goon to see his relations; for here looks to be a power of 'um in this town----but heavy _Ralph_ is skawer'd after him.

Sir _Fran._ Why, let him go to the Devil! no matter, and the hawnds had had him a month agoe----but I wish the coach and horses were got safe to th' Inn! This is a sharp tawn, we mun look about us here, _John_, therefore I would have you go alung with _Roger_, and see that nobody runs away with them before they get to their stable.

_John Moody._ Alas-a-day, Sir: I believe our awld cattle woant yeasily be run away with to-night--but howsomdever, we'st ta' the best care we can of um, poor sawls.

Sir _Francis._ Well, well! make hast then----

[_~Moody~ goes out, and returns._

_John Moody._ Ods Flesh! here's Master _Monly_ come to wait upo' your Worship!

Sir _Fran._ Wheere is he?

_John Moody._ Just coming in at threshould.

Sir _Fran._ Then goa about your Business.

[_Ex. ~Moody~._

_Enter ~Manly~._

Cousin _Monly._ Sir, I am your very humble servant.

_Man._ I heard you were come, Sir _Francis_--and--

Sir _Fran._ Ods-heart! this was so kindly done of you naw.

_Man._ I wish you may think it so, Cousin! for I confess, I should have been better-pleas'd to have seen you in any other place.

Sir _Fran._ How soa, Sir?

_Man._ Nay, 'tis for your own sake: I'm not concern'd.

Sir _Fran._ Look you, Cousin! thof' I know you wish me well; yet I don't question I shall give you such weighty reasons for what I have done, that you will say, Sir, this is the wisest Journey that ever I made in my life.