The Country Wife

Act I

Scene I

Horner’s lodging.

	Enter Horner, and Quack* following him at a distance.*
Horner	Aside. A quack is as fit for a pimp, as a midwife for a bawd; they are still but in their way, both helpers of nature.⁠—Aloud. Well, my dear doctor, hast thou done what I desired?
Quack	I have undone you forever with the women, and reported you throughout the whole town as bad as an eunuch, with as much trouble as if I had made you one in earnest.
Horner	But have you told all the midwives you know, the orange wenches at the playhouses, the city husbands, and old fumbling keepers of this end of the town? for they’ll be the readiest to report it.
Quack	I have told all the chambermaids, waiting-women, tire-women, and old women of my acquaintance; nay, and whispered it as a secret to ’em, and to the whisperers of Whitehall; so that you need not doubt ’twill spread, and you will be as odious to the handsome young women, as⁠—
Horner	As the smallpox. Well⁠—
Quack	And to the married women of this end of the town, as⁠—
Horner	As the great one; nay, as their own husbands.
Quack	And to the city dames, as aniseed Robin, of filthy and contemptible memory; and they will frighten their children with your name, especially their females.
Horner	And cry, Horner’s coming to carry you away. I am only afraid ’twill not be believed. You told ’em it was by an English-French disaster, and an English-French chirurgeon, who has given me at once not only a cure, but an antidote for the future against that damned malady, and that worse distemper, love, and all other women’s evils?
Quack	Your late journey into France has made it the more credible, and your being here a fortnight before you appeared in public, looks as if you apprehended the shame, which I wonder you do not. Well, I have been hired by young gallants to belie ’em t’other way; but you are the first would be thought a man unfit for women.
Horner	Dear Mr. Doctor, let vain rogues be contented only to be thought abler men than they are, generally ’tis all the pleasure they have; but mine lies another way.
Quack	You take, methinks, a very preposterous way to it, and as ridiculous as if we operators in physic should put forth bills to disparage our medicaments, with hopes to gain customers.
Horner	Doctor, there are quacks in love as well as physic, who get but the fewer and worse patients for their boasting; a good name is seldom got by giving it one’s self; and women, no more than honour, are compassed by bragging. Come, come, Doctor, the wisest lawyer never discovers the merits of his cause till the trial; the wealthiest man conceals his riches, and the cunning gamester his play. Shy husbands and keepers, like old rooks, are not to be cheated but by a new unpractised trick: false friendship will pass now no more than false dice upon ’em; no, not in the city.
	Enter Boy.
Boy	There are two ladies and a gentleman coming up.
	Exit.
Horner	A pox! some unbelieving sisters of my former acquaintance, who, I am afraid, expect their sense should be satisfied of the falsity of the report. No⁠—this formal fool and women!
	Enter Sir Jasper Fidget, Lady Fidget, and Mrs. Dainty Fidget.
Quack	His wife and sister.
Sir Jasper	My coach breaking just now before your door, sir, I look upon as an occasional reprimand to me, sir, for not kissing your hands, sir, since your coming out of France, sir; and so my disaster, sir, has been my good fortune, sir; and this is my wife and sister, sir.
Horner	What then, sir?
Sir Jasper	My lady, and sister, sir.⁠—Wife, this is Master Horner.
Lady Fidget	Master Horner, husband!
Sir Jasper	My lady, my Lady Fidget, sir.
Horner	So, sir.
Sir Jasper	Won’t you be acquainted with her, sir?⁠—Aside. So, the report is true, I find, by his coldness or aversion to the sex; but I’ll play the wag with him.⁠—Aloud. Pray salute my wife, my lady, sir.
Horner	I will kiss no man’s wife, sir, for him, sir; I have taken my eternal leave, sir, of the sex already, sir.
Sir Jasper	Aside. Ha! ha! ha! I’ll plague him yet.⁠—Aloud. Not know my wife, sir?
Horner	I do know your wife, sir; she’s a woman, sir, and consequently a monster, sir, a greater monster than a husband, sir.
Sir Jasper	A husband! how, sir?
Horner	So, sir; but I make no more cuckolds, sir. Makes horns.
Sir Jasper	Ha! ha! ha! Mercury! Mercury!
Lady Fidget	Pray, Sir Jasper, let us be gone from this rude fellow.
Mrs. Dainty	Who, by his breeding, would think he had ever been in France?
Lady Fidget	Foh! he’s but too much a French fellow, such as hate women of quality and virtue for their love to their husbands. Sir Jasper, a woman is hated by ’em as much for loving her husband as for loving their money. But pray let’s be gone.
Horner	You do well, madam; for I have nothing that you came for. I have brought over not so much as a bawdy picture, no new postures, nor the second part of the Ecole des Filles; nor⁠—
Quack	Hold, for shame, sir! what d’ye mean? you’ll ruin yourself forever with the sex⁠—Apart to Horner.
Sir Jasper	Ha! ha! ha! he hates women perfectly, I find.
Mrs. Dainty	What pity ’tis he should!
Lady Fidget	Ay, he’s a base fellow for’t. But affectation makes not a woman more odious to them than virtue.
Horner	Because your virtue is your greatest affectation, madam.
Lady Fidget	How, you saucy fellow! would you wrong my honour?
Horner	If I could.
Lady Fidget	How d’ye mean, sir?
Sir Jasper	Ha! ha! ha! no, he can’t wrong your ladyship’s honour, upon my honour. He, poor man⁠—hark you in your ear⁠—a mere eunuch. Whispers.
Lady Fidget	O filthy French beast! foh! foh! why do we stay? let’s be gone: I can’t endure the sight of him.
Sir Jasper	Stay but till the chairs come; they’ll be here presently.
Lady Fidget	No, no.
Sir Jasper	Nor can I stay longer. ’Tis, let me see, a quarter and half quarter of a minute past eleven. The council will be sat; I must away. Business must be preferred always before love and ceremony with the wise, Mr. Horner.
Horner	And the impotent, Sir Jasper.
Sir Jasper	Ay, ay, the impotent, Master Horner; hah! hah! hah!
Lady Fidget	What, leave us with a filthy man alone in his lodgings?
Sir Jasper	He’s an innocent man now, you know. Pray stay, I’ll hasten the chairs to you.⁠—Mr. Horner, your servant; I should be glad to see you at my house. Pray come and dine with me, and play at cards with my wife after dinner; you are fit for women at that game yet, ha! ha!⁠—Aside. ’Tis as much a husband’s prudence to provide innocent diversion for a wife as to hinder her unlawful pleasures; and he had better employ her than let her employ herself.⁠—Aloud. Farewell.
Horner	Your servant, Sir Jasper.
	Exit Sir Jasper.
Lady Fidget	I will not stay with him, foh!⁠—
Horner	Nay, madam, I beseech you stay, if it be but to see I can be as civil to ladies yet as they would desire.
Lady Fidget	No, no, foh! you cannot be civil to ladies.
Mrs. Dainty	You as civil as ladies would desire?
Lady Fidget	No, no, no, foh! foh! foh!
	Exeunt Lady Fidget* and Mrs. Dainty Fidget.*
Quack	Now, I think, I, or you yourself, rather, have done your business with the women.
Horner	Thou art an ass. Don’t you see already, upon the report, and my carriage, this grave man of business leaves his wife in my lodgings, invites me to his house and wife, who before would not be acquainted with me out of jealousy?
Quack	Nay, by this means you may be the more acquainted with the husbands, but the less with the wives.
Horner	Let me alone; if I can but abuse the husbands, I’ll soon disabuse the wives. Stay⁠—I’ll reckon you up the advantages I am like to have by my stratagem. First, I shall be rid of all my old acquaintances, the most insatiable sort of duns, that invade our lodgings in a morning; and next to the pleasure of making a new mistress is that of being rid of an old one, and of all old debts. Love, when it comes to be so, is paid the most unwillingly.
Quack	Well, you may be so rid of your old acquaintances; but how will you get any new ones?
Horner	Doctor, thou wilt never make a good chemist, thou art so incredulous and impatient. Ask but all the young fellows of the town if they do not lose more time, like huntsmen, in starting the game, than in running it down. One knows not where to find ’em; who will or will not. Women of quality are so civil, you can hardly distinguish love from good breeding, and a man is often mistaken: but now I can be sure she that shows an aversion to me loves the sport, as those women that are gone, whom I warrant to be right. And then the next thing is, your women of honour, as you call ’em, are only chary of their reputations, not their persons; and ’tis scandal they would avoid, not men. Now may I have, by the reputation of an eunuch, the privileges of one, and be seen in a lady’s chamber in a morning as early as her husband; kiss virgins before their parents or lovers; and may be, in short, the passe-partout of the town. Now, doctor.
Quack	Nay, now you shall be the doctor; and your process is so new that we do not know but it may succeed.
Horner	Not so new neither; probatum est, doctor.
Quack	Well, I wish you luck, and many patients, whilst I go to mine.
	Exit.
	Enter Harcourt* and Dorilant.*
Harcourt	Come, your appearance at the play yesterday, has, I hope, hardened you for the future against the women’s contempt, and the men’s raillery; and now you’ll abroad as you were wont.
Horner	Did I not bear it bravely?
Dorilant	With a most theatrical impudence, nay, more than the orange-wenches show there, or a drunken vizard-mask, or a great-bellied actress; nay, or the most impudent of creatures, an ill poet; or what is yet more impudent, a secondhand critic.
Horner	But what say the ladies? have they no pity?
Harcourt	What ladies? The vizard-masks, you know, never pity a man when all’s gone, though in their service.
Dorilant	And for the women in the boxes, you’d never pity them when ’twas in your power.
Harcourt	They say ’tis pity but all that deal with common women should be served so.
Dorilant	Nay, I dare swear they won’t admit you to play at cards with them, go to plays with ’em, or do the little duties which other shadows of men are wont to do for ’em.
Horner	What do you call shadows of men?
Dorilant	Half-men.
Horner	What, boys?
Dorilant	Ay, your old boys, old beaux garçons, who, like superannuated stallions, are suffered to run, feed, and whinny with the mares as long as they live, though they can do nothing else.
Horner	Well, a pox on love and wenching! Women serve but to keep a man from better company. Though I can’t enjoy them, I shall you the more. Good fellowship and friendship are lasting, rational, and manly pleasures.
Harcourt	For all that, give me some of those pleasures you call effeminate too; they help to relish one another.
Horner	They disturb one another.
Harcourt	No, mistresses are like books. If you pore upon them too much, they doze you, and make you unfit for company; but if used discreetly, you are the fitter for conversation by ’em.
Dorilant	A mistress should be like a little country retreat near the town; not to dwell in constantly, but only for a night and away, to taste the town the better when a man returns.
Horner	I tell you, ’tis as hard to be a good fellow, a good friend, and a lover of women, as ’tis to be a good fellow, a good friend, and a lover of money. You cannot follow both, then choose your side. Wine gives you liberty, love takes it away.
Dorilant	Gad, he’s in the right on’t.
Horner	Wine gives you joy; love, grief and tortures, besides surgeons. Wine makes us witty; love, only sots. Wine makes us sleep; love breaks it.
Dorilant	By the world he has reason, Harcourt.
Horner	Wine makes⁠—
Dorilant	Ay, wine makes us⁠—makes us princes; love makes us beggars, poor rogues, egad⁠—and wine⁠—
Horner	So, there’s one converted.⁠—No, no, love and wine, oil and vinegar.
Harcourt	I grant it; love will still be uppermost.
Horner	Come, for my part, I will have only those glorious manly pleasures of being very drunk and very slovenly.
	Enter Boy.
Boy	Mr. Sparkish is below, sir.
	Exit.
Harcourt	What, my dear friend! a rogue that is fond of me only, I think, for abusing him.
Dorilant	No, he can no more think the men laugh at him than that women jilt him; his opinion of himself is so good.
Horner	Well, there’s another pleasure by drinking I thought not of⁠—I shall lose his acquaintance, because he cannot drink: and you know ’tis a very hard thing to be rid of him; for he’s one of those nauseous offerers at wit, who, like the worst fiddlers, run themselves into all companies.
Harcourt	One that, by being in the company of men of sense, would pass for one.
Horner	And may so to the shortsighted world; as a false jewel amongst true ones is not discerned at a distance. His company is as troublesome to us as a cuckold’s when you have a mind to his wife’s.
Harcourt	No, the rogue will not let us enjoy one another, but ravishes our conversation; though he signifies no more to’t than Sir Martin Mar-all’s4 gaping, and awkward thrumming upon the lute, does to his man’s voice and music.
Dorilant	And to pass for a wit in town shows himself a fool every night to us, that are guilty of the plot.
Horner	Such wits as he are, to a company of reasonable men, like rooks to the gamesters; who only fill a room at the table, but are so far from contributing to the play, that they only serve to spoil the fancy of those that do.
Dorilant	Nay, they are used like rooks too, snubbed, checked, and abused; yet the rogues will hang on.
Horner	A pox on ’em, and all that force nature, and would be still what she forbids ’em! Affectation is her greatest monster.
Harcourt	Most men are the contraries to that they would seem. Your bully, you see, is a coward with a long sword; the little humbly-fawning physician, with his ebony cane, is he that destroys men.
Dorilant	The usurer, a poor rogue, possessed of mouldy bonds and mortgages; and we they call spendthrifts, are only wealthy, who lay out his money upon daily new purchases of pleasure.
Horner	Ay, your arrantest cheat is your trustee or executor; your jealous man, the greatest cuckold; your churchman the greatest atheist; and your noisy pert rogue of a wit, the greatest fop, dullest ass, and worst company, as you shall see; for here he comes.
	Enter Sparkish.
Sparkish	How is’t, sparks? how is’t? Well, faith, Harry, I must rally thee a little, ha! ha! ha! upon the report in town of thee, ha! ha! ha! I can’t hold i’faith; shall I speak?
Horner	Yes; but you’ll be so bitter then.
Sparkish	Honest Dick and Frank here shall answer for me; I will not be extreme bitter, by the universe.
Harcourt	We will be bound in a ten thousand pound bond, he shall not be bitter at all.
Dorilant	Nor sharp, nor sweet.
Horner	What, not downright insipid?
Sparkish	Nay then, since you are so brisk, and provoke me, take what follows. You must know, I was discoursing and rallying with some ladies yesterday, and they happened to talk of the fine new signs in town⁠—
Horner	Very fine ladies, I believe.
Sparkish	Said I, I know where the best new sign is.⁠—Where? says one of the ladies.⁠—In Covent-Garden, I replied.⁠—Said another, In what street?⁠—In Russel-street, answered I.⁠—Lord, says another, I’m sure there was never a fine new sign there yesterday.⁠—Yes, but there was, said I again; and it came out of France, and has been there a fortnight.
Dorilant	A pox! I can hear no more, prithee.
Horner	No, hear him out; let him tune his crowd a while.
Harcourt	The worst music, the greatest preparation.
Sparkish	Nay, faith, I’ll make you laugh.⁠—It cannot be, says a third lady.⁠—Yes, yes, quoth I again.⁠—Says a fourth lady⁠—
Horner	Look to’t, we’ll have no more ladies.
Sparkish	No⁠—then mark, mark, now. Said I to the fourth, Did you never see Mr. Horner? he lodges in Russel-street, and he’s a sign of a man, you know, since he came out of France; ha! ha! ha!
Horner	But the devil take me if thine be the sign of a jest.
Sparkish	With that they all fell a-laughing, till they bepissed themselves. What, but it does not move you, methinks? Well, I see one had as good go to law without a witness, as break a jest without a laugher on one’s side.⁠—Come, come, sparks, but where do we dine? I have left at Whitehall an earl, to dine with you.
Dorilant	Why, I thought thou hadst loved a man with a title, better than a suit with a French trimming to’t.
Harcourt	Go to him again.
Sparkish	No, sir, a wit to me is the greatest title in the world.
Horner	But go dine with your earl, sir; he may be exception. We are your friends, and will not take it ill to be left, I do assure you.
Harcourt	Nay, faith, he shall go to him.
Sparkish	Nay, pray, gentlemen.
Dorilant	We’ll thrust you out, if you won’t; what, disappoint anybody for us?
Sparkish	Nay, dear gentlemen, hear me.
Horner	No, no, sir, by no means; pray go, sir.
Sparkish	Why, dear rogues⁠—
Dorilant	No, no.
	They all thrust him out of the room.
All	Ha! ha! ha!
	Reenter Sparkish.
Sparkish	But, sparks, pray hear me. What, d’ye think I’ll eat then with gay shallow fops and silent coxcombs? I think wit as necessary at dinner, as a glass of good wine; and that’s the reason I never have any stomach when I eat alone.⁠—Come, but where do we dine?
Horner	Even where you will.
Sparkish	At Chateline’s?
Dorilant	Yes, if you will.
Sparkish	Or at the Cock?5
Dorilant	Yes, if you please.
Sparkish	Or at the Dog and Partridge?
Horner	Ay, if you have a mind to’t; for we shall dine at neither.
Sparkish	Pshaw! with your fooling we shall lose the new play; and I would no more miss seeing a new play the first day, than I would miss sitting in the wit’s row. Therefore I’ll go fetch my mistress, and away.
	Exit.
	Enter Pinchwife.
Horner	Who have we here? Pinchwife?
Pinchwife	Gentlemen, your humble servant.
Horner	Well, Jack, by thy long absence from the town, the grumness of thy countenance, and the slovenliness of thy habit, I should give thee joy, should I not, of marriage?
Pinchwife	Aside. Death! does he know I’m married too? I thought to have concealed it from him at least.⁠—Aloud. My long stay in the country will excuse my dress; and I have a suit of law that brings me up to town, that puts me out of humour. Besides, I must give Sparkish tomorrow five thousand pounds to lie with my sister.
Horner	Nay, you country gentlemen, rather than not purchase, will buy anything; and he is a cracked title, if we may quibble. Well, but am I to give thee joy? I heard thou wert married.
Pinchwife	What then?
Horner	Why, the next thing that is to be heard, is, thou’rt a cuckold.
Pinchwife	Insupportable name! Aside.
Horner	But I did not expect marriage from such a whoremaster as you; one that knew the town so much, and women so well.
Pinchwife	Why, I have married no London wife.
Horner	Pshaw! that’s all one. That grave circumspection in marrying a country wife, is like refusing a deceitful pampered Smithfield jade, to go and be cheated by a friend in the country.
Pinchwife	Aside. A pox on him and his simile!⁠—Aloud. At least we are a little surer of the breed there, know what her keeping has been, whether foiled or unsound.
Horner	Come, come, I have known a clap gotten in Wales; and there are cousins, justices’ clerks, and chaplains in the country, I won’t say coachmen. But she’s handsome and young?
Pinchwife	Aside. I’ll answer as I should do.⁠—Aloud. No, no; she has no beauty but her youth, no attraction but her modesty: wholesome, homely, and huswifely; that’s all.
Dorilant	He talks as like a grazier as he looks.
Pinchwife	She’s too awkward, ill-favoured, and silly to bring to town.
Harcourt	Then methinks you should bring her to be taught breeding.
Pinchwife	To be taught! no, sir, I thank you. Good wives and private soldiers should be ignorant⁠—I’ll keep her from your instructions, I warrant you.
Harcourt	The rogue is as jealous as if his wife were not ignorant. Aside.
Horner	Why, if she be ill-favoured, there will be less danger here for you than by leaving her in the country. We have such variety of dainties that we are seldom hungry.
Dorilant	But they have always coarse, constant, swingeing stomachs in the country.
Harcourt	Foul feeders indeed!
Dorilant	And your hospitality is great there.
Harcourt	Open house; every man’s welcome.
Pinchwife	So, so, gentlemen.
Horner	But prithee, why shouldst thou marry her? If she be ugly, ill-bred, and silly, she must be rich then.
Pinchwife	As rich as if she brought me twenty thousand pound out of this town; for she’ll be as sure not to spend her moderate portion, as a London baggage would be to spend hers, let it be what it would: so ’tis all one. Then, because she’s ugly, she’s the likelier to be my own; and being ill-bred, she’ll hate conversation; and since silly and innocent, will not know the difference betwixt a man of one-and-twenty and one of forty.
Horner	Nine⁠—to my knowledge. But if she be silly, she’ll expect as much from a man of forty-nine, as from him of one-and-twenty. But methinks wit is more necessary than beauty; and I think no young woman ugly that has it, and no handsome woman agreeable without it.
Pinchwife	’Tis my maxim, he’s a fool that marries; but he’s a greater that does not marry a fool. What is wit in a wife good for, but to make a man a cuckold?
Horner	Yes, to keep it from his knowledge.
Pinchwife	A fool cannot contrive to make her husband a cuckold.
Horner	No; but she’ll club with a man that can: and what is worse, if she cannot make her husband a cuckold, she’ll make him jealous, and pass for one: and then ’tis all one.
Pinchwife	Well, well, I’ll take care for one. My wife shall make me no cuckold, though she had your help, Mr. Horner. I understand the town, sir.
Dorilant	His help! Aside.
Harcourt	He’s come newly to town, it seems, and has not heard how things are with him. Aside.
Horner	But tell me, has marriage cured thee of whoring, which it seldom does?
Harcourt	’Tis more than age can do.
Horner	No, the word is, I’ll marry and live honest: but a marriage vow is like a penitent gamester’s oath, and entering into bonds and penalties to stint himself to such a particular small sum at play for the future, which makes him but the more eager; and not being able to hold out, loses his money again, and his forfeit to boot.
Dorilant	Ay, ay, a gamester will be a gamester whilst his money lasts, and a whoremaster whilst his vigour.
Harcourt	Nay, I have known ’em, when they are broke, and can lose no more, keep a fumbling with the box in their hands to fool with only, and hinder other gamesters.
Dorilant	That had wherewithal to make lusty stakes.
Pinchwife	Well, gentlemen, you may laugh at me; but you shall never lie with my wife: I know the town.
Horner	But prithee, was not the way you were in better? is not keeping better than marriage?
Pinchwife	A pox on’t! the jades would jilt me, I could never keep a whore to myself.
Horner	So, then you only married to keep a whore to yourself. Well, but let me tell you, women, as you say, are like soldiers, made constant and loyal by good pay, rather than by oaths and covenants. Therefore I’d advise my friends to keep rather than marry, since too I find, by your example, it does not serve one’s turn; for I saw you yesterday in the eighteenpenny place with a pretty country-wench.
Pinchwife	How the devil! did he see my wife then? I sat there that she might not be seen. But she shall never go to a play again. Aside.
Horner	What! dost thou blush, at nine-and-forty, for having been seen with a wench?
Dorilant	No, faith, I warrant ’twas his wife, which he seated there out of sight; for he’s a cunning rogue, and understands the town.
Harcourt	He blushes. Then ’twas his wife; for men are now more ashamed to be seen with them in public than with a wench.
Pinchwife	Hell and damnation! I’m undone, since Horner has seen her, and they know ’twas she. Aside.
Horner	But prithee, was it thy wife? She was exceeding pretty: I was in love with her at that distance.
Pinchwife	You are like never to be nearer to her. Your servant, gentlemen. Offers to go.
Horner	Nay, prithee stay.
Pinchwife	I cannot; I will not.
Horner	Come, you shall dine with us.
Pinchwife	I have dined already.
Horner	Come, I know thou hast not: I’ll treat thee, dear rogue; thou sha’t spend none of thy Hampshire money today.
Pinchwife	Treat me! So, he uses me already like his cuckold. Aside.
Horner	Nay, you shall not go.
Pinchwife	I must; I have business at home.
	Exit.
Harcourt	To beat his wife. He’s as jealous of her, as a Cheapside husband of a Covent-garden wife.
Horner	Why, ’tis as hard to find an old whoremaster without jealousy and the gout, as a young one without fear, or the pox:⁠— As gout in age from pox in youth proceeds, So wenching past, then jealousy succeeds; The worst disease that love and wenching breeds.
	Exeunt.