(there's a good girl) has my daughter an aversion to young Harlowe ? Jen. I don't say that, madam,—that is-aversion-to be sure-but I believe she hates him like the devil. Mrs. Stock. Poor thing! poor thing! and perhaps her little heart is beating for another? Jen. Oh, that's a certain rule! when a young woman hates her husband, 'tis taken for granted she loves another man. For example, you yourself, as you have often told me, hated the sight of Mr. Stockwell, when first he was proposed for your husband,-Why? only because you were in love, poor lady, with captain-you know who-that was killed at the siege-you know where. Mrs. Stock. Why will you name him, Jenny? [Wipes her eyes. Jen. Tender lady! Mrs. Stock. Why, indeed, had that fine young creature survived his wounds, I should never have married Mr. Stockwell, that I will say. Jen. Then you know how to pity your daughter. Her heart suffers now, what yours did before that siege, madam. Mrs. Stock. Say you so? poor girl! and who is it has found the way to her heart? Jen. No other than the young gentleman that has been so constant at cards with you lately. Mrs. Stock. Who, Belford? Jen. The same, and a fine spirited young fellow it is. Enter MISS NANCY. Nan. Pardon my folly, my misfortune, dear madam, if I cannot conform in all my sentiwents with your's, and my father's Mrs. Stock. It will happen, child, sometimes, that a daughter's heart may not be disposed to comply exactly with the views and schemes of a parent; but then, a parent should act with enderness. My dear, I pity your distress: Belford has my approbation, I assure you. Nun. You are too good, madam! Jen. Your approbation is not enough, madam; will you answer for master's too? He's a stubborn bit of stuff, you know; he will not always hearken to reason. Mrs. Stock. But he shall, Jenny: stubborn as he is, I'll soften him. I'll take Belford under my protection-Here comes my husbandI have taken my resolution, and you shall see how I'll bring him about presently. Enter MR. STOCKWELL, My dear, you're come in the very nick of time; I have just changed my mind. Stock. You are always changing it, I think. Mrs. Stock. I always hearken to reason, Mr. Stockwell. Stock. Well, and which way does the wind set now? Mrs. Stock. Why, I have taken a resolution not to marry my daughter to young Harlowe. Stock. Hey! that's chopping about, indeed! Mrs. Stock. Nay, but, my dear, hear me, and let us reason a little; here's a better offer for Nancy-Belford has asked her of me. Stock. Belford a better ! Mrs. Stock, Nay, but don't be obstinate, child! he is not, indeed, so rich as the other; but what are riches to content, Mr. Stockwell? Stock. And what is content without riches, Mrs. Stockwell? Mrs. Stock. But he's a gentleman, my dear, and, out of regard to his family, we may very well excuse his fortune. Jen. Well said, madam! this will do. [Aside. Stock. Ha, ha, ha! that's because you were a gentlewoman-but I, being a downright cit, think just the reverse; and, out of regard to his fortune, if he had one, might excuse his family. I have no great objection to the man; but is not our word and honour engaged to another? Mrs. Stock. Eh! that's true, indeed! butStock. Has my old friend, Sir Harry Harlowe, done any thing to Mrs. Stock. I don't accuse him, my dear. Stock. Or has his son refused to comply? Mrs. Stock. Not in the least, that I know of. Jen. Never flinch, madam. Mrs. Stock. Never fear, Jenny.} [Aside. Nan. But I have never seen him, papa. Mrs. Stock. No, Mr. Stockwell, she has never seen him. Stock. So much the better, Mrs. Stockwell; he'll be a greater novelty, and please her the better and the longer for it. Mrs. Stock. There is some reason in that, Jenny. Jen. Is there, madam, then I have not a bit about me. Nan. But to marry without inclination, sir! think of that. Mrs. Stock. Ay, think of that, Mr. Stockwell. Stock. I never thought of it for myself, nor you neither, my dear; and why should our daughter think herself wiser than her parents? Mrs. Stock, Ay, why, indeed?-there's no answering that, Jenny. Jen. I see there is not-What a woman! [Aside. Stock. It would be such an affront, as never could be forgiven. Consider, dame, the instruments are signed, preparations made, and the bridegroom expected every minute; 'tis too far gone to be recalled with any honour. Mrs. Stock. Good lack-a-day! very true, very true! Jen. Well said, weathercock! about and about we go this woman betrays the whole sex-she won't contradict her own husband. [Aside, Mrs. Stock. You are witness, Jenny, I did all I could for poor Belford? JeR. To be sure; you took him under your protection-a noble patroness, truly! Stock. Hey! whom have we got here? I'll be hanged if this is not my son-in-law's servant.Now, girl, we shall hear. Enter SLIP, in a hurry. Slip. Ladies and gentlemen, I am come-let me recover my breath-I come-Oh! I come with mine, and my master's compliments to your honour, and my lady, our best love and services to pretty miss, and-madam, I'm your obedient Black-a-moor. Stock. [Reading] I look upon this con[To JENNY-juncture of our families.' Conjuncture!-a very odd phrase! Stock. Um! the fellow has humour, I promise you. Well, sirrah, where's your master? Slip. My master and your son, is on his way to throw himself at the feet of this angelic creature. His impatience, Madam, can equal nothing but your beauty. Stock. Well, but where is he, where is he? Slip. He's but just arrived from the country; he treads upon my heels, and I had only, the start of him to tell you, that he will but whip on clean linen, and wait on you in the snapping of a finger. Stock. Oh, fie upon him! what need all this ceremony between us! why did not he come hither directly? He knows he may make my house his own. Slip. Oh, sir, he designs it, but the first time -pardon me, sir-He knows the world better than to treat you so cavalierly as that—No, no; he's not that man, I can assure you; though I'm his valet, yet I'll give the devil his due. Mrs. Stock. Is he so extremely well bred? Daughter, you will be infinitely happy. Stock. Does not my old friend, Harlowe, his father, come with him? Slip. Sir, I grieve to tell it you; such was his design, but an unforeseen accident has prevented him; which, I assure you, gives him great pain. Stock. Ay! what's the matter? Slip. The gout, sir, the gout ! Mrs. Stock. Poor gentleman! Slip. He was seized in his right foot, the evening before we set out, but-I have a letter from [Gives a letter. Stock. [Puts on his spectacles and reads.] him. To doctor, doctor Clackit, physician, near St. 'Sepulchre's church.' Slip. Lud, lud! that's not it-[Takes out letters.] Let me see! Stock. St. Sepulchre's church!-I find the doctor chuses to live among his patients. I Slip, Eh, eh! that's so good! you're a very wag, sir !-He, he, be!-let me see-Oh, here's one like it.-To Mr. Stockwell; the same. am afraid you'll hardly be able to make it out -shall I read it to you? Oh, this unlucky gout! Stock. I see it has affected his hands, tooWhy 'tis scarce legible; and ill spelt, too. Slip. The gout, sir,—may it never affect you, sir, nor madam Stockwell, Miss Nancy, that young woman there, nor any of the good company. Slip. The gout, dear sir, the gout! He's quite another man in it. Stock. I look upon this conjuncture of our families, as the comfort of my age-The sooner it is done the more comfort I shall have-I 'don't doubt but you'll like my son, whom I have 'sent with a most trusty and faithful servant, 'who deserves your friendship and favour.' Slip. O law, sir!-I am quite ashamed. Stock. I am, my dear brother, yours, &c. till death. HENRY HARLOWE.' I am very sorry, sir, we can't have the old gentleman's company.-But who is this gay young fellow coming towards us?-Can this be my son-in-law? Slip. What the devil should ail him? Look at him, Miss; observe him, madam-Is not he a pretty fellow? Stock. What is he doing! Slip. Only paying his chairman-Generous as a prince. [To JENNY. Stock. Not ill made, indeed!-You'll only be too happy, child. Nancy. I wish I could think so, madam. Slip. Dress us but as well, and we'll cut out our masters, ten to one. All my fancy, I assure you, ladies. [Aside. Enter MARTIN, as young Harlowe. Mar. Mr. Stockwell, I presume, my illus trious father Slip. The same, sir, in proprium personum. Stock. My dear son, welcome! let me embrace you. Mar. You do me too much honour; my superabundant joy is too inexpressible to express the-This I flatter myself [To MRS. STOCKWELL.] is the brilliant beauty, destined to the arms of happy Mart-Harlowe-Gad! I'd like to have forgot my own name. [Aside. Nancy. An impertinent absurd coxcomb! [Aside. Stock. Nay, nay, son-in-law, not so fast; that's my wife. Here's my daughter Nancy. Mar. A fine creature! [Salutes her.] Madam, I have seen the world! and from all the world, here would I chuse a wife, and a mistress a family of beauties; let me die! Stock. Excessively gallant! He has wit, I assure you, daughter. Jen. And taste too, madam. Nancy. And impudence, I'm sure! Mar. [Singing to MRS. STOCKWELL.] With a shape, and a face, and an air, and a grace!' Ha, ha-Just, just as our old gentleman told me. There you'll see madam Stockwell, says he, the agreeable still; take care of your heart, boy; she's a dangerous beauty, though her daughter may be by. Mrs. Stock. O fie, fie, fie! Mar. I but repeat my father's words, madam, confirmed by my own observation. Ah, boy, says he, I wish with all my heart, that my dear friend Mr. Stockwell was dead! I'd marry her to-morrow. Stock. I'm much obliged to him, faith! Mrs. Stock. And so am I, I am sure, sir. Mar. I but repeat my father's words, sir. Mrs. Stock. My esteem for your father, sir, is mutual, and I am heartily sorry we could not have the pleasure of his company. Mar. Oh! madam, he was damned mad that he could not be at the wedding. He had flattered himself these two months with the hopes of dancing a minuet with Mrs. Stockwell. Slip. Two months.-Whew!-and 'tis but six weeks he has known her! he'll knock us all up. If I don't interfere-[Aside.]—Sir, sir Harry begs you'll hasten the ceremonials, that he may have the pleasure of his daughter's company as soon as possible. Stock. Well, well, every thing is signed and sealed; nothing remains, that I know of, but to finish the affair at once, and pay you my daughter's portion. Mar. Pay you my daughter's portion !that's all, sir; come along, sir, I wait on you to your closet-Slip, go with my civilities to the marquis of [Aloud.] go this moment, you dog, and secure us horses, and let them be bridled and saddled, and ready at a minute's warning, [Softly.]—and don't forget my compliments to the marchioness. [Aloud. Slip. I fly, sir! ladies, your most obedient. [Exit SLIP. Mar. Come along, sir, to your closet. Stock. Stay, son, stay!—to return to the old gentleman. Mar. Oh, sir, we'll return to him when the portion's paid. Stock. No, no; first satisfy my curiosity about this unlucky law-suit of his. Mar. O lud! Ship not here now! [Aside. Stock. You seem disturbed, son-in-law, has any thing Mar. Eh! pox o'this question. [Aside.] I have sach a memory![Puts his hand to his forehead.] as much forgot to send Slip to the duke of-as if I had no manner of acquaintance with him. I'll call him back; Slip! sir Stock. He'll be back again presently-but, Mar. He should have told me of this damned law-suit. [Aside. Stock, Has it been brought to a hearing? Mar. O, yes, sir, and the affair is quite over. Mar. The wrong box, I'm afraid! [Aside. Mrs. Stock. Thank heaven 'tis so well over! Mar. Oh, the family had the law-suit so much at heart, the lawyers should have had every farthing we were worth in the world, before we'd have been cast. Stock. Um! that would have been carrying it a little too far; but as it was, it cost him a pretty penny, ha? Mar. That it did, sir: but justice! Oh, justice, sir, is so fine a thing, we cannot pay too dear for it. Stock. Very true; but exclusive of the expence, this has been a troublesome affair to my friend. Mar. You can have no idea of it, sir-especially with such a tricking son of a whore, as he had to do with. Stock. Son of a whore? He told me his antagonist was a lady! Mar. I thought I was in the wrong box. [Aside.] A lady call you her? Yes, yes, a fine lady! but she had got an old pettifogging rascal for her attorney, and he-it was he that was such a plague to our old gentleman.-But damn this cause, let us call another-I'm for nothing now but flames, darts, daggers, Cupids and Ve nusses, and madam Stockwell, and Miss Nancy[Bowing to them. Mrs. Stock. The pink of complaisance! Nancy. The fellow's a fool, and I'll die before I'll have him. [Aside. Stock. Well said, son-in-law! a spirited fellow, faith! Come, we'll in and see things ready. Mar. Shan't I wait upon you to your closet first, sir? Stock. As soon as the ceremony's over, son. -Come, I'll shew you the way. Mar. Eh! If I could but have touched before-hand, I'd have wav'd the ceremony. [Aside.]-Madam, [To MRS. STOCKWELL.] may I hope for the honour! [Offering to lead her out. Mrs. Stock. Oh, sweet sir?-Daughter, you'll have a pretty fellow for your husband. [Aside to NANCY.] [Exeunt. Nancy. There's a lover for you, Jenny! Jenny. Not for me, madam, I assure you. What, snap at the old kite, when such a tender chick is before him! Nancy. Not a civil word to his mistress, but quite gallant to her mother. Jen. As much as to say a fig for you! I'm in love with your fortune. Nancy. A fig for him; a conceited puppy! I'm in love with Belford; but how to get at him, Jenny. Jen. Ah! poor bird! you're limed by the wing, and struggling will but make it worse. Nancy. Not struggle! Ruin is better than, this coxcomb! Pr'ythee, advise me. Jen. Don't tempt me.-I pity you so, that I could give you a sprightly piece of advice! and you are in so desperate a way, that I know you'd follow it. Nancy. Follow it!-I'll follow any advice, Jenny. Jen. O, yes, to follow your own inclinations; that's a good young lady.Well, I am at pre- ACT II. SCENE I.-A hall in STOCKWELL'S house. Enter BELFORD. Bel. He shall take my life first. Jen. You said that before! have you nothing else to say? Bel. I say, that this Harlowe, my friend, was Jen. And that's enough, if it is true; but I have a small addition to your news. Bel. What's that? Bel. I AM surprised, that Martin has not re-married last week in the country, that's all. turned to tell me his success with Jenny-He advised me not to stir from home, and said I might be assured every thing goes well, and I should hear from him-But still the impatience of my heart cannot bear this delay-I must be near the field of battle, let what will be the consequence; I hope I shall get a sight of Martin, and not unluckily light on the old gentleman: 'sdeath he's bere!-O, no, 'tis Jeuny; my heart was in my mouth. Enter JENNY. Dear Jenny, where's your mistress? Jen. Winding herself up for your sake, and, by my advice, to a proper pitch of disobedience, that's all--but Bel. But what? You hesitate, Jenny, and seem concerned! Jen. Concerned! why, we're undone, that's all. Your rival is come to town. Bel. How! Jen. And is this morning to marry madam. Bel. Not while I'm alive, I can tell him that. But, pr'ythee, who is this happy rival of mine? Jen. 'Tis one Mr. Harlowe. Jen, A gentleman of Dorsetshire. Bel. I know all of that country, and can recollect no Harlowe, but the son of Sir Harry Harlowe, and he Jen. Ay, and he is your rival. Bel. If I had no more to fear from your mis- Bel. The truth only? the real, certain truth. Bel. Why, that this Harlowe is the son of Sir Harry Harlowe of Dorsetshire, and my friend, my particular friend. Jen. Yes, and so particular, that he will take your mistress from you. Jen. That the aforesaid John Harlowe, Esq; your particular friend, and son to sir Harry Harlowe, of Dorsetshire, is now within, waiting for my young lady's hand; that's all. Bel. Jenny, no jesting, you distract me! Jen. 'Tis but too true; he's this minute gone in with my master and mistress to settle preli minaries. Bel. Impossible! he's my intimate acquaintance, and wrote to me not a week ago, as I tell you. I have his letter at my lodgings. Jen. And what says he there? Bel. That's he's privately married to a lady of condition. Jen How can this be reconciled? Go fetch that letter, we have no time to lose. Bel. But what is Martin doing? Jen. Martin, who's he? Bel. Martin, my servant, whom I sent to assist you. Jen. Why, sure love has turned your brain, sir—I have seen no Martin, not I! Bel. The rascal, then, is run away from me again. I have spoiled him by my indulgence. He left me for a month, and returned but yesterday; then I sent him hither to assist you, and now the scoundrel has left me again. Jen. Tis the luxury of the times, sir; though we are poor we have good tastes, and can be out of the way now and then, as well as our betters. Bel. How this villain has used me! But we must lose no time; I'll fetch the letter, and be back in an instant. [Exit. me Jen. Let me see-can't I strike some mischief out of this intelligence! I warrant I can delay the marriage at least. Here's my master; I'll try my skill upon him. If I don't quite bring him about, I'll set his brains in such a ferment, they shan't settle in haste again. Enter STOCKWELL. the hearts of thirty families at ease all round the country. Stock. Odd! a terrible man, I profess, I don't Stock. I think I saw a glimpse of young Bel-wonder now that one wife can't serve him. ford, but now-what business has he here? Jen. Business enough, sir; the best friend you have, that's all. He has been telling me a piece of news that will surprise you. Stock. Let's hear this piece of news! Jen. O' my word, a bold man, this Mr. Harlowe, to take two wives at once, when most folk we see have enough of one! Stock. Two wives! bless us, what do you mean? Jen. Why, the poor man's married already sir, that's all. Stock. Married! Jen. Married, I say, to a young lady in the country, and very near marrying another in town-a new fashion, I suppose. Stock. Pooh, pooh! the thing's impossible, I tell you. Jen. That may be, but so it is. He has writ to Belford, who is his friend. Stock. All romance and invention ! Jen. All truth, I say; Belford is gone to fetch the letter, and he'll convince you. Stock. I will never be convinced thatJen. Why not, sir? the young fellows of this age are capable of any thing. Stock. Very true, Jenny; they are abominable! Jen. And, for aught we know, this Mr. Harlowe here may be one of those gentlemen, that make no scruple of a plurality of wives, provided they bring a plurality of portions. But by your leave, good sir, as this young lady, (she in the country, I mean) has the first and best title, we must look a little about us for the sake of our young lady in town. Stock. Very true-'tis worth attending to. Jen. Attending to! if I were you, sir, before I delivered up my daughter, I should insist upon the affair's being cleared up to my satisfaction. Stock. You're in the right, Jenny; here's his man: I'll sound him about his master's marriage, and then-leave us together-Go-I'll make him speak, I warrant you! Jen. If this marriage is but confirmed, I shall leap out of my skin. [Exit. Enter SLIP. Stock. Mr. Slip, come hither. My old friend Sir Harry has recommended you to me, and I like your physiognomy: you have an honest face: it pleases me much. Slip. Your humble servant, sir. That's your goodness; but if I was no honester than my face, gad a mercy upon poor me! Stock. Well, well-hark you me! this master of yours is a lad of spirit-a favourite of the ladies, I warrant him, ba? Slip. That he is, I can tell you, sir; a pretty fellow; no woman can resist him. I'll warrant, this marriage in your family, will set you Slip. Wife, sir! what wife, sir? Stock. You see I know all, my friend; so you may as well confess, Slip. Confess: what, sir? Stock. I know all the conspiracy; and will take care that you, rascal, shall have your desert as an accomplice. Slip. Accomplice!-Rascal; and a conspiracy!-Let me die if I comprehend a word you ! say Stock. But I'll make you, villain! Slip. O very well, sir-ha, ha, ha !-I protest you half frightened me-Very well, indeed!— Ha, ha, ha! Stock, Do you laugh at me, sirrah! Slip. If I had not remembered to have heard my old master say, what a dry joker you were, I protest I should have been taken in. Very good, indeed, ha, ha, ha! Stock. None of your buffoonery, sirrah; but confess the whole affair this minute, or be sent to Newgate the next. Slip. Newgate! sure, sir, that would be carrying the joke too far. Stock. You won't confess, then?-Who waits there? Send for a constable this moment. Slip. Nay, good sir, no noise, I beseech you. Though I am innocent as the child unborn, yet that severe tone of voice is apt to disconcert one. What was it your honour was pleased to hint about my master's being married? Who could possibly invent such a fib as that? Stock. No fib, sirrah! he wrote it himself to a friend of his at London-to Belford. Slip. Oh, oh! your humble servant, Mr. Belford! a fine fetch, i'faith! nay, I can't blame the man neither, ha, ha! Pray, sir, is not this same Mr. Belford in love with your daughter? Stock. Suppose he is, puppy! and what then? Stock. Why then, Jenny is his friend, and at the bottom of all his fetches; I'll lay a wager that she is author of this whopper. Stock. Um! Slip. Our arrival put them to their trumps-and then-Slap, my poor master must be married; and Belford must shew a forged letter, forsooth, under his own hand, to prove it—and, and, and, you understand me, sir― Stock. Why, this has a face. Slip. A face! ay, like a full moon; and while you're upon a false scent after this story, Jenny will gain time to work upon your daughter. I heard her say myself that she could lead you by the nose. Stock. Oh, she could, could she? Well, well, we'll see that. Slip, By the by, sir, where did you meet with this Mrs. Jenny? Stock. How should I know! I believe my wife hired her half a year ago out of the country. |