The Country Wife

Act III

Scene I

A room in Pinchwife’s house.

	Enter Alithea* and Mrs. Pinchwife.*
Alithea	Sister, what ails you? you are grown melancholy.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Would it not make anyone melancholy to see you go every day fluttering about abroad, whilst I must stay at home like a poor lonely sullen bird in a cage?
Alithea	Ay, sister; but you came young, and just from the nest to your cage: so that I thought you liked it, and could be as cheerful in’t as others that took their flight themselves early, and are hopping abroad in the open air.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Nay, I confess I was quiet enough till my husband told me what pure lives the London ladies live abroad, with their dancing, meetings, and junketings, and dressed every day in their best gowns; and I warrant you, play at ninepins every day of the week, so they do.
	Enter Pinchwife.
Pinchwife	Come, what’s here to do? you are putting the town-pleasures in her head, and setting her a-longing.
Alithea	Yes, after ninepins. You suffer none to give her those longings you mean but yourself.
Pinchwife	I tell her of the vanities of the town like a confessor.
Alithea	A confessor! just such a confessor as he that, by forbidding a silly ostler to grease the horse’s teeth, taught him to do’t.
Pinchwife	Come, Mrs. Flippant, good precepts are lost when bad examples are still before us: the liberty you take abroad makes her hanker after it, and out of humour at home. Poor wretch! she desired not to come to London; I would bring her.
Alithea	Very well.
Pinchwife	She has been this week in town, and never desired till this afternoon to go abroad.
Alithea	Was she not at a play yesterday?
Pinchwife	Yes; but she ne’er asked me; I was myself the cause of her going.
Alithea	Then if she ask you again, you are the cause of her asking, and not my example.
Pinchwife	Well, tomorrow night I shall be rid of you; and the next day, before ’tis light, she and I’ll be rid of the town, and my dreadful apprehensions.⁠—Come, be not melancholy; for thou sha’t go into the country after tomorrow, dearest.
Alithea	Great comfort!
Mrs. Pinchwife	Pish! what d’ye tell me of the country for?
Pinchwife	How’s this! what, pish at the country?
Mrs. Pinchwife	Let me alone; I am not well.
Pinchwife	O, if that be all⁠—what ails my dearest?
Mrs. Pinchwife	Truly, I don’t know: but I have not been well since you told me there was a gallant at the play in love with me.
Pinchwife	Ha!⁠—
Alithea	That’s by my example too!
Pinchwife	Nay, if you are not well, but are so concerned, because a lewd fellow chanced to lie, and say he liked you, you’ll make me sick too.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Of what sickness?
Pinchwife	O, of that which is worse than the plague, jealousy.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Pish, you jeer! I’m sure there’s no such disease in our receipt-book at home.
Pinchwife	No, thou never met’st with it, poor innocent.⁠—Well, if thou cuckold me, ’twill be my own fault⁠—for cuckolds and bastards are generally makers of their own fortune. Aside.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Well, but pray, bud, let’s go to a play tonight.
Pinchwife	’Tis just done, she comes from it. But why are you so eager to see a play?
Mrs. Pinchwife	Faith, dear, not that I care one pin for their talk there; but I like to look upon the playermen, and would see, if I could, the gallant you say loves me: that’s all, dear bud.
Pinchwife	Is that all, dear bud?
Alithea	This proceeds from my example!
Mrs. Pinchwife	But if the play be done, let’s go abroad, however, dear bud.
Pinchwife	Come have a little patience and thou shalt go into the country on Friday.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Therefore I would see first some sights to tell my neighbours of. Nay, I will go abroad, that’s once.
Alithea	I’m the cause of this desire too!
Pinchwife	But now I think on’t, who, who was the cause of Horner’s coming to my lodgings today? That was you.
Alithea	No, you, because you would not let him see your handsome wife out of your lodging.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Why, O Lord! did the gentleman come hither to see me indeed?
Pinchwife	No, no.⁠—You are not the cause of that damned question too, Mistress Alithea?⁠—Aside. Well, she’s in the right of it. He is in love with my wife⁠—and comes after her⁠—’tis so⁠—but I’ll nip his love in the bud; lest he should follow us into the country, and break his chariot-wheel near our house, on purpose for an excuse to come to’t. But I think I know the town.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Come, pray, bud, let’s go abroad before ’tis late; for I will go, that’s flat and plain.
Pinchwife	Aside. So! the obstinacy already of the town-wife; and I must, whilst she’s here, humour her like one.⁠—Aloud. Sister, how shall we do, that she may not be seen, or known?
Alithea	Let her put on her mask.
Pinchwife	Pshaw! a mask makes people but the more inquisitive, and is as ridiculous a disguise as a stage-beard: her shape, stature, habit will be known. And if we should meet with Horner, he would be sure to take acquaintance with us, must wish her joy, kiss her, talk to her, leer upon her, and the devil and all. No, I’ll not use her to a mask, ’tis dangerous; for masks have made more cuckolds than the best faces that ever were known.
Alithea	How will you do then?
Mrs. Pinchwife	Nay, shall we go? The Exchange will be shut, and I have a mind to see that.
Pinchwife	So⁠—I have it⁠—I’ll dress her up in the suit we are to carry down to her brother, little Sir James; nay, I understand the town-tricks. Come, let’s go dress her. A mask! no⁠—a woman masked, like a covered dish, gives a man curiosity and appetite; when, it may be, uncovered, ’twould turn his stomach: no, no.
Alithea	Indeed your comparison is something a greasy one: but I had a gentle gallant used to say, A beauty masked, like the sun in eclipse, gathers together more gazers than if it shined out.
	Exeunt.

Scene II

The New Exchange.

	Enter Horner, Harcourt, and Dorilant.
Dorilant	Engaged to women, and not sup with us!
Horner	Ay, a pox on ’em all!
Harcourt	You were much a more reasonable man in the morning, and had as noble resolutions against ’em, as a widower of a week’s liberty.
Dorilant	Did I ever think to see you keep company with women in vain?
Horner	In vain: no⁠—’tis since I can’t love ’em, to be revenged on ’em.
Harcourt	Now your sting is gone, you looked in the box amongst all those women like a drone in the hive; all upon you, shoved and ill-used by ’em all, and thrust from one side to t’other.
Dorilant	Yet he must be buzzing amongst ’em still, like other beetle-headed liquorish drones. Avoid ’em, and hate ’em, as they hate you.
Horner	Because I do hate ’em, and would hate ’em yet more, I’ll frequent ’em. You may see by marriage, nothing makes a man hate a woman more than her constant conversation. In short, I converse with ’em, as you do with rich fools, to laugh at ’em and use ’em ill.
Dorilant	But I would no more sup with women, unless I could lie with ’em, than sup with a rich coxcomb, unless I could cheat him.
Horner	Yes, I have known thee sup with a fool for his drinking; if he could set out your hand that way only, you were satisfied, and if he were a wine-swallowing mouth, ’twas enough.
Harcourt	Yes, a man drinks often with a fool, as he tosses with a marker, only to keep his hand in use. But do the ladies drink?
Horner	Yes, sir; and I shall have the pleasure at least of laying ’em flat with a bottle, and bring as much scandal that way upon ’em as formerly t’other.
Harcourt	Perhaps you may prove as weak a brother among ’em that way as t’other.
Dorilant	Foh! drinking with women is as unnatural as scolding with ’em. But ’tis a pleasure of decayed fornicators, and the basest way of quenching love.
Harcourt	Nay, ’tis drowning love, instead of quenching it. But leave us for civil women too!
Dorilant	Ay, when he can’t be the better for ’em. We hardly pardon a man that leaves his friend for a wench, and that’s a pretty lawful call.
Horner	Faith, I would not leave you for ’em, if they would not drink.
Dorilant	Who would disappoint his company at Lewis’s for a gossiping?
Harcourt	Foh! Wine and women, good apart, together are as nauseous as sack and sugar. But hark you, sir, before you go, a little of your advice; an old maimed general, when unfit for action, is fittest for counsel. I have other designs upon women than eating and drinking with them; I am in love with Sparkish’s mistress, whom he is to marry tomorrow: now how shall I get her?
	Enter Sparkish, looking about.
Horner	Why, here comes one will help you to her.
Harcourt	He! he, I tell you, is my rival, and will hinder my love.
Horner	No; a foolish rival and a jealous husband assist their rival’s designs; for they are sure to make their women hate them, which is the first step to their love for another man.
Harcourt	But I cannot come near his mistress but in his company.
Horner	Still the better for you; for fools are most easily cheated when they themselves are accessories: and he is to be bubbled of his mistress as of his money, the common mistress, by keeping him company.
Sparkish	Who is that that is to be bubbled? Faith, let me snack; I han’t met with a bubble since Christmas. ’Gad, I think bubbles are like their brother woodcocks, go out with the cold weather.
Harcourt	A pox! he did not hear all, I hope. Apart to Horner.
Sparkish	Come, you bubbling rogues you, where do we sup?⁠—Oh, Harcourt, my mistress tells me you have been making fierce love to her all the play long: ha! ha!⁠—But I⁠—
Harcourt	I make love to her!
Sparkish	Nay, I forgive thee, for I think I know thee, and I know her; but I am sure I know myself.
Harcourt	Did she tell you so? I see all women are like these of the Exchange; who, to enhance the prize of their commodities, report to their fond customers offers which were never made ’em.
Horner	Ay, women are apt to tell before the intrigue, as men after it, and so show themselves the vainer sex. But hast thou a mistress, Sparkish? ’Tis as hard for me to believe it, as that thou ever hadst a bubble, as you bragged just now.
Sparkish	O, your servant, sir: are you at your raillery, sir? But we are some of us beforehand with you today at the play. The wits were something bold with you, sir; did you not hear us laugh?
Horner	Yes; but I thought you had gone to plays, to laugh at the poet’s wit, not at your own.
Sparkish	Your servant, sir: no, I thank you. ’Gad I go to a play as to a country treat; I carry my own wine to one, and my own wit to t’other, or else I’m sure I should not be merry at either. And the reason why we are so often louder than the players, is, because we think we speak more wit, and so become the poet’s rivals in his audience: for to tell you the truth, we hate the silly rogues; nay, so much, that we find fault even with their bawdy upon the stage, whilst we talk nothing else in the pit as loud.
Horner	But why shouldst thou hate the silly poets? Thou hast too much wit to be one; and they, like whores, are only hated by each other: and thou dost scorn writing, I’m sure.
Sparkish	Yes; I’d have you to know I scorn writing: but women, women, that make men do all foolish things, make ’em write songs too. Everybody does it. ’Tis even as common with lovers, as playing with fans; and you can no more help rhyming to your Phillis, than drinking to your Phillis.
Harcourt	Nay, poetry in love is no more to be avoided than jealousy.
Dorilant	But the poets damned your songs, did they?
Sparkish	Damn the poets! they have turned ’em into burlesque, as they call it. That burlesque is a hocus-pocus trick they have got, which, by the virtue of Hictius doctius topsy turvy, they make a wise and witty man in the world, a fool upon the stage you know not how: and ’tis therefore I hate ’em too, for I know not but it may be my own case; for they’ll put a man into a play for looking asquint. Their predecessors were contented to make serving-men only their stage-fools: but these rogues must have gentlemen, with a pox to ’em, nay, knights; and, indeed, you shall hardly see a fool upon the stage but he’s a knight. And to tell you the truth, they have kept me these six years from being a knight in earnest, for fear of being knighted in a play, and dubbed a fool.
Dorilant	Blame ’em not, they must follow their copy, the age.
Harcourt	But why shouldst thou be afraid of being in a play, who expose yourself every day in the playhouses, and at public places?
Horner	’Tis but being on the stage, instead of standing on a bench in the pit.
Dorilant	Don’t you give money to painters to draw you like? and are you afraid of your pictures at length in a playhouse, where all your mistresses may see you?
Sparkish	A pox! painters don’t draw the smallpox or pimples in one’s face. Come, damn all your silly authors whatever, all books and booksellers, by the world; and all readers, courteous or uncourteous!
Harcourt	But who comes here, Sparkish?
	Enter Pinchwife* and Mrs. Pinchwife in man’s clothes, Alithea and Lucy.*
Sparkish	Oh, hide me! There’s my mistress too. Sparkish hides himself behind Harcourt.
Harcourt	She sees you.
Sparkish	But I will not see her. ’Tis time to go to Whitehall, and I must not fail the drawing-room.
Harcourt	Pray, first carry me, and reconcile me to her.
Sparkish	Another time. Faith, the king will have supped.
Harcourt	Not with the worse stomach for thy absence. Thou art one of those fools that think their attendance at the king’s meals as necessary as his physicians, when you are more troublesome to him than his doctors or his dogs.
Sparkish	Pshaw! I know my interest, sir. Prithee hide me.
Horner	Your servant, Pinchwife.⁠—What, he knows us not!
Pinchwife	Come along. To his Wife* aside.*
Mrs. Pinchwife	Pray, have you any ballads? give me sixpenny worth.
Bookseller	We have no ballads.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Then give me Covent Garden Drollery, and a play or two⁠—Oh, here’s Tarugo’s Wiles, and The Slighted Maiden;7 I’ll have them.
Pinchwife	No; plays are not for your reading. Come along; will you discover yourself? Apart to her.
Horner	Who is that pretty youth with him, Sparkish?
Sparkish	I believe his wife’s brother, because he’s something like her: but I never saw her but once.
Horner	Extremely handsome; I have seen a face like it too. Let us follow ’em.
	Exeunt Pinchwife, Mrs. Pinchwife, Pinchwife, Alithea, and Lucy; Horner* and Dorilant following them.*
Harcourt	Come, Sparkish, your mistress saw you, and will be angry you go not to her. Besides, I would fain be reconciled to her, which none but you can do, dear friend.
Sparkish	Well, that’s a better reason, dear friend. I would not go near her now for hers or my own sake; but I can deny you nothing: for though I have known thee a great while, never go, if I do not love thee as well as a new acquaintance.
Harcourt	I am obliged to you indeed, dear friend. I would be well with her, only to be well with thee still; for these ties to wives usually dissolve all ties to friends. I would be contented she should enjoy you a-nights, but I would have you to myself a-days as I have had, dear friend.
Sparkish	And thou shalt enjoy me a-days, dear, dear friend, never stir: and I’ll be divorced from her, sooner than from thee. Come along.
Harcourt	Aside. So, we are hard put to’t, when we make our rival our procurer; but neither she nor her brother would let me come near her now. When all’s done, a rival is the best cloak to steal to a mistress under, without suspicion; and when we have once got to her as we desire, we throw him off like other cloaks.
	Exit Sparkish, Harcourt* following him.*
	Reenter Pinchwife* and Mrs. Pinchwife.*
Pinchwife	To Alithea. Sister, if you will not go, we must leave you.⁠—Aside. The fool her gallant and she will muster up all the young saunterers of this place, and they will leave their dear sempstresses to follow us. What a swarm of cuckolds and cuckold-makers are here!⁠—Come, let’s be gone, Mistress Margery.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Don’t you believe that; I han’t half my bellyfull of sights yet.
Pinchwife	Then walk this way.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Lord, what a power of brave signs are here! stay⁠—the Bull’s-Head, the Ram’s-Head, and the Stag’s-Head, dear⁠—
Pinchwife	Nay, if every husband’s proper sign here were visible, they would be all alike.
Mrs. Pinchwife	What d’ye mean by that, bud?
Pinchwife	’Tis no matter⁠—no matter, bud.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Pray tell me: nay, I will know.
Pinchwife	They would be all Bulls, Stags, and Rams-heads.
	Exeunt Pinchwife* and Mrs. Pinchwife.*
	Reenter Sparkish, Harcourt, Alithea, and Lucy, at the other side.
Sparkish	Come, dear madam, for my sake you shall be reconciled to him.
Alithea	For your sake I hate him.
Harcourt	That’s something too cruel, madam, to hate me for his sake.
Sparkish	Ay indeed, madam, too, too cruel to me, to hate my friend for my sake.
Alithea	I hate him because he is your enemy; and you ought to hate him too, for making love to me, if you love me.
Sparkish	That’s a good one! I hate a man for loving you! If he did love you, ’tis but what he can’t help; and ’tis your fault, not his, if he admires you. I hate a man for being of my opinion! I’ll n’er do’t, by the world.
Alithea	Is it for your honour, or mine, to suffer a man to make love to me, who am to marry you tomorrow?
Sparkish	Is it for your honour, or mine, to have me jealous? That he makes love to you, is a sign you are handsome; and that I am not jealous, is a sign you are virtuous. That I think is for your honour.
Alithea	But ’tis your honour too I am concerned for.
Harcourt	But why, dearest madam, will you be more concerned for his honour than he is himself? Let his honour alone, for my sake and his. He! he has no honour⁠—
Sparkish	How’s that?
Harcourt	But what my dear friend can guard himself.
Sparkish	O ho⁠—that’s right again.
Harcourt	Your care of his honour argues his neglect of it, which is no honour to my dear friend here. Therefore once more, let his honour go which way it will, dear madam.
Sparkish	Ay, ay; were it for my honour to marry a woman whose virtue I suspected, and could not trust her in a friend’s hands?
Alithea	Are you not afraid to lose me?
Harcourt	He afraid to lose you, madam! No, no⁠—you may see how the most estimable and most glorious creature in the world is valued by him. Will you not see it?
Sparkish	Right, honest Frank, I have that noble value for her that I cannot be jealous of her.
Alithea	You mistake him. He means, you care not for me, nor who has me.
Sparkish	Lord, madam, I see you are jealous! Will you wrest a poor man’s meaning from his words?
Alithea	You astonish me, sir, with your want of jealousy.
Sparkish	And you make me giddy, madam, with your jealousy and fears, and virtue and honour. ’Gad, I see virtue makes a woman as troublesome as a little reading or learning.
Alithea	Monstrous!
Lucy	Well, to see what easy husbands these women of quality can meet with! a poor chambermaid can never have such ladylike luck. Besides, he’s thrown away upon her. She’ll make no use of her fortune, her blessing, none to a gentleman, for a pure cuckold; for it requires good breeding to be a cuckold. Aside.
Alithea	I tell you then plainly, he pursues me to marry me.
Sparkish	Pshaw!
Harcourt	Come, madam, you see you strive in vain to make him jealous of me. My dear friend is the kindest creature in the world to me.
Sparkish	Poor fellow!
Harcourt	But his kindness only is not enough for me, without your favour, your good opinion, dear madam: ’tis that must perfect my happiness. Good gentleman, he believes all I say: would you would do so! Jealous of me! I would not wrong him nor you for the world.
Sparkish	Look you there. Hear him, hear him, and do not walk away so. Alithea walks carelessly to and fro.
Harcourt	I love you, madam, so⁠—
Sparkish	How’s that? Nay, now you begin to go too far indeed.
Harcourt	So much, I confess, I say, I love you, that I would not have you miserable, and cast yourself away upon so unworthy and inconsiderable a thing as what you see here. Clapping his hand on his breast, points at Sparkish.
Sparkish	No, faith, I believe thou wouldst not: now his meaning is plain; but I knew before thou wouldst not wrong me, nor her.
Harcourt	No, no, Heavens forbid the glory of her sex should fall so low, as into the embraces of such a contemptible wretch, the least of mankind⁠—my friend here⁠—I injure him! Embracing Sparkish.
Alithea	Very well.
Sparkish	No, no, dear friend, I knew it.⁠—Madam, you see he will rather wrong himself than me, in giving himself such names.
Alithea	Do not you understand him yet?
Sparkish	Yes: how modestly he speaks of himself, poor fellow!
Alithea	Methinks he speaks impudently of yourself, since⁠—before yourself too; insomuch that I can no longer suffer his scurrilous abusiveness to you, no more than his love to me. Offers to go.
Sparkish	Nay, nay, madam, pray stay⁠—his love to you! Lord, madam, has he not spoke yet plain enough?
Alithea	Yes, indeed, I should think so.
Sparkish	Well then, by the world, a man can’t speak civilly to a woman now, but presently she says, he makes love to her. Nay, madam, you shall stay, with your pardon, since you have not yet understood him, till he has made an éclaircissement of his love to you, that is, what kind of love it is. Answer to thy catechism, friend; do you love my mistress here?
Harcourt	Yes, I wish she would not doubt it.
Sparkish	But how do you love her?
Harcourt	With all my soul.
Alithea	I thank him, methinks he speaks plain enough now.
Sparkish	To Alithea. You are out still.⁠—But with what kind of love, Harcourt?
Harcourt	With the best and the truest love in the world.
Sparkish	Look you there then, that is with no matrimonial love, I’m sure.
Alithea	How’s that? do you say matrimonial love is not best?
Sparkish	’Gad, I went too far ere I was aware. But speak for thyself, Harcourt, you said you would not wrong me nor her.
Harcourt	No, so, madam, e’en take him for Heaven’s sake.
Sparkish	Look you there, madam.
Harcourt	Who should in all justice be yours, he that loves you most. Claps his hand on his breast.
Alithea	Look you there, Mr. Sparkish, who’s that?
Sparkish	Who should it be?⁠—Go on, Harcourt.
Harcourt	Who loves you more than women titles, or fortune fools. Points at Sparkish.
Sparkish	Look you there, he means me still, for he points at me.
Alithea	Ridiculous!
Harcourt	Who can only match your faith and constancy in love.
Sparkish	Ay.
Harcourt	Who knows, if it be possible, how to value so much beauty and virtue.
Sparkish	Ay.
Harcourt	Whose love can no more be equalled in the world, than that heavenly form of yours.
Sparkish	No.
Harcourt	Who could no more suffer a rival, than your absence, and yet could no more suspect your virtue, than his own constancy in his love to you.
Sparkish	No.
Harcourt	Who, in fine, loves you better than his eyes, that first made him love you.
Sparkish	Ay⁠—Nay, madam, faith, you shan’t go till⁠—
Alithea	Have a care, lest you make me stay too long.
Sparkish	But till he has saluted you; that I may be assured you are friends, after his honest advice and declaration. Come, pray, madam, be friends with him.
	Reenter Pinchwife* and Mrs. Pinchwife.*
Alithea	You must pardon me, sir, that I am not yet so obedient to you.
Pinchwife	What, invite your wife to kiss men? Monstrous! are you not ashamed? I will never forgive you.
Sparkish	Are you not ashamed, that I should have more confidence in the chastity of your family than you have? You must not teach me, I am a man of honour, sir, though I am frank and free; I am frank, sir⁠—
Pinchwife	Very frank, sir, to share your wife with your friends.
Sparkish	He is an humble, menial friend, such as reconciles the differences of the marriage bed; you know man and wife do not always agree; I design him for that use, therefore would have him well with my wife.
Pinchwife	A menial friend!⁠—you will get a great many menial friends, by showing your wife as you do.
Sparkish	What then? It may be I have a pleasure in’t, as I have to show fine clothes at a playhouse, the first day, and count money before poor rogues.
Pinchwife	He that shows his wife or money, will be in danger of having them borrowed sometimes.
Sparkish	I love to be envied, and would not marry a wife that I alone could love; loving alone is as dull as eating alone. Is it not a frank age? and I am a frank person; and to tell you the truth, it may be, I love to have rivals in a wife, they make her seem to a man still but as a kept mistress; and so good night, for I must to Whitehall.⁠—Madam, I hope you are now reconciled to my friend; and so I wish you a good night, madam, and sleep if you can: for tomorrow you know I must visit you early with a canonical gentleman. Good night, dear Harcourt.
	Exit.
Harcourt	Madam, I hope you will not refuse my visit tomorrow, if it should be earlier with a canonical gentleman than Mr. Sparkish’s.
Pinchwife	This gentlewoman is yet under my care, therefore you must yet forbear your freedom with her, sir. Coming between Alithea* and Harcourt.*
Harcourt	Must, sir?
Pinchwife	Yes, sir, she is my sister.
Harcourt	’Tis well she is, sir⁠—for I must be her servant, sir.⁠—Madam⁠—
Pinchwife	Come away, sister, we had been gone, if it had not been for you, and so avoided these lewd rake-hells, who seem to haunt us.
	Reenter Horner* and Dorilant.*
Horner	How now, Pinchwife!
Pinchwife	Your servant.
Horner	What! I see a little time in the country makes a man turn wild and unsociable, and only fit to converse with his horses, dogs, and his herds.
Pinchwife	I have business, sir, and must mind it; your business is pleasure, therefore you and I must go different ways.
Horner	Well, you may go on, but this pretty young gentleman⁠—Takes hold of Mrs. Pinchwife.
Harcourt	The lady⁠—
Dorilant	And the maid⁠—
Horner	Shall stay with us; for I suppose their business is the same with ours, pleasure.
Pinchwife	’Sdeath, he knows her, she carries it so sillily! yet if he does not, I should be more silly to discover it first. Aside.
Alithea	Pray, let us go, sir.
Pinchwife	Come, come⁠—
Horner	To Mrs. Pinchwife. Had you not rather stay with us?⁠—Prithee, Pinchwife, who is this pretty young gentleman?
Pinchwife	One to whom I’m a guardian.⁠—Aside. I wish I could keep her out of your hands.
Horner	Who is he? I never saw anything so pretty in all my life.
Pinchwife	Pshaw! do not look upon him so much, he’s a poor bashful youth, you’ll put him out of countenance.⁠—Come away, brother. Offers to take her away.
Horner	O, your brother!
Pinchwife	Yes, my wife’s brother.⁠—Come, come, she’ll stay supper for us.
Horner	I thought so, for he is very like her I saw you at the play with, whom I told you I was in love with.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Aside. O jeminy! is that he that was in love with me? I am glad on’t, I vow, for he’s a curious fine gentleman, and I love him already, too.⁠—To Pinchwife. Is this he, bud?
Pinchwife	Come away, come away. To his Wife.
Horner	Why, what haste are you in? why won’t you let me talk with him?
Pinchwife	Because you’ll debauch him; he’s yet young and innocent, and I would not have him debauched for anything in the world.⁠—Aside. How she gazes on him! the devil!
Horner	Harcourt, Dorilant, look you here, this is the likeness of that dowdy he told us of, his wife; did you ever see a lovelier creature? The rogue has reason to be jealous of his wife, since she is like him, for she would make all that see her in love with her.
Harcourt	And, as I remember now, she is as like him here as can be.
Dorilant	She is indeed very pretty, if she be like him.
Horner	Very pretty? a very pretty commendation!⁠—she is a glorious creature, beautiful beyond all things I ever beheld.
Pinchwife	So, so.
Harcourt	More beautiful than a poet’s first mistress of imagination.
Horner	Or another man’s last mistress of flesh and blood.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Nay, now you jeer, sir; pray don’t jeer me.
Pinchwife	Come, come.⁠—Aside. By Heavens, she’ll discover herself!
Horner	I speak of your sister, sir.
Pinchwife	Ay, but saying she was handsome, if like him, made him blush.⁠—Aside. I am upon a rack!
Horner	Methinks he is so handsome he should not be a man.
Pinchwife	Aside. O, there ’tis out! he has discovered her! I am not able to suffer any longer.⁠—To his Wife. Come, come away, I say.
Horner	Nay, by your leave, sir, he shall not go yet.⁠—Aside to them. Harcourt, Dorilant, let us torment this jealous rogue a little.
Harcourt and Dorilant	How?
Horner	I’ll show you.
Pinchwife	Come, pray let him go, I cannot stay fooling any longer; I tell you his sister stays supper for us.
Horner	Does she? Come then, we’ll all go to sup with he and thee.
Pinchwife	No, now I think on’t, having stayed so long for us, I warrant she’s gone to bed.⁠—Aside. I wish she and I were well out of their hands.⁠—To his Wife. Come, I must rise early tomorrow, come.
Horner	Well then, if she be gone to bed, I wish her and you a good night. But pray, young gentleman, present my humble service to her.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Thank you heartily, sir.
Pinchwife	Aside. ’Sdeath, she will discover herself yet in spite of me⁠—Aloud. He is something more civil to you, for your kindness to his sister, than I am, it seems.
Horner	Tell her, dear sweet little gentleman, for all your brother there, that you have revived the love I had for her at first sight in the playhouse.
Mrs. Pinchwife	But did you love her indeed, and indeed?
Pinchwife	Aside. So, so.⁠—Aloud. Away, I say.
Horner	Nay, stay.⁠—Yes, indeed, and indeed, pray do you tell her so, and give her this kiss from me. Kisses her.
Pinchwife	Aside. O Heavens! what do I suffer? Now ’tis too plain he knows her, and yet⁠—
Horner	And this, and this⁠—Kisses her again.
Mrs. Pinchwife	What do you kiss me for? I am no woman.
Pinchwife	Aside. So, there, ’tis out.⁠—Aloud. Come, I cannot, nor will stay any longer.
Horner	Nay, they shall send your lady a kiss too. Here, Harcourt, Dorilant, will you not? They kiss her.
Pinchwife	Aside. How! do I suffer this? Was I not accusing another just now for this rascally patience, in permitting his wife to be kissed before his face? Ten thousand ulcers gnaw away their lips.⁠—Aloud. Come, come.
Horner	Good night, dear little gentleman; madam, good night: farewell, Pinchwife.⁠—Apart to Harcourt* and Dorilant.* Did not I tell you I would raise his jealous gall?
	Exeunt Horner, Harcourt* and Dorilant.*
Pinchwife	So, they are gone at last; stay, let me see first if the coach be at this door.
	Exit.
	Reenter Horner, Harcourt, and Dorilant.
Horner	What, not gone yet? Will you be sure to do as I desired you, sweet sir?
Mrs. Pinchwife	Sweet sir, but what will you give me then?
Horner	Anything. Come away into the next walk.
	Exit, haling away Mrs. Pinchwife.
Alithea	Hold! hold! what d’ye do?
Lucy	Stay, stay, hold⁠—
Harcourt	Hold, madam, hold, let him present him⁠—he’ll come presently; nay, I will never let you go till you answer my question.
Lucy	For God’s sake, sir, I must follow ’em. Alithea and Lucy, struggling with Harcourt and Dorilant.
Dorilant	No, I have something to present you with too, you shan’t follow them.
	Reenter Pinchwife.
Pinchwife	Where?⁠—how⁠—what’s become of?⁠—gone!⁠—whither?
Lucy	He’s only gone with the gentleman, who will give him something, an’t please your worship.
Pinchwife	Something!⁠—give him something, with a pox!⁠—where are they?
Alithea	In the next walk only, brother.
Pinchwife	Only, only! where, where?
	Exit and returns presently, then goes out again.
Harcourt	What’s the matter with him? why so much concerned? But, dearest madam⁠—
Alithea	Pray let me go, sir; I have said and suffered enough already.
Harcourt	Then you will not look upon, nor pity, my sufferings?
Alithea	To look upon ’em, when I cannot help ’em, were cruelty, not pity; therefore, I will never see you more.
Harcourt	Let me then, madam, have my privilege of a banished lover, complaining or railing, and giving you but a farewell reason why, if you cannot condescend to marry me, you should not take that wretch, my rival.
Alithea	He only, not you, since my honour is engaged so far to him, can give me a reason why I should not marry him; but if he be true, and what I think him to me, I must be so to him. Your servant, sir.
Harcourt	Have women only constancy when ’tis a vice, and are, like Fortune, only true to fools?
Dorilant	Thou sha’t not stir, thou robust creature; you see I can deal with you, therefore you should stay the rather, and be kind. To Lucy, who struggles to get from him.
	Reenter Pinchwife.
Pinchwife	Gone, gone, not to be found! quite gone! ten thousand plagues go with ’em! Which way went they?
Alithea	But into t’other walk, brother.
Lucy	Their business will be done presently sure, an’t please your worship; it can’t be long in doing, I’m sure on’t.
Alithea	Are they not there?
Pinchwife	No, you know where they are, you infamous wretch, eternal shame of your family, which you do not dishonour enough yourself you think, but you must help her to do it too, thou legion of bawds!
Alithea	Good brother⁠—
Pinchwife	Damned, damned sister!
Alithea	Look you here, she’s coming.
	Reenter Mrs. Pinchwife* running, with her hat full of oranges and dried fruit under her arm, Horner following.*
Mrs. Pinchwife	O dear bud, look you here what I have got, see!
Pinchwife	And what I have got here too, which you can’t see! Aside, rubbing his forehead.
Mrs. Pinchwife	The fine gentleman has given me better things yet.
Pinchwife	Has he so?⁠—Aside. Out of breath and coloured!⁠—I must hold yet.
Horner	I have only given your little brother an orange, sir.
Pinchwife	To Horner. Thank you, sir.⁠—Aside. You have only squeezed my orange, I suppose, and given it me again; yet I must have a city patience.⁠—To his Wife. Come, come away.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Stay, till I have put up my fine things, bud.
	Enter Sir Jasper Fidget.
Sir Jasper	O, Master Horner, come, come, the ladies stay for you; your mistress, my wife, wonders you make not more haste to her.
Horner	I have stayed this half hour for you here, and ’tis your fault I am not now with your wife.
Sir Jasper	But, pray, don’t let her know so much; the truth on’t is, I was advancing a certain project to his majesty about⁠—I’ll tell you.
Horner	No, let’s go, and hear it at your house. Good night, sweet little gentleman; one kiss more, you’ll remember me now, I hope. Kisses her.
Dorilant	What, Sir Jasper, will you separate friends? He promised to sup with us, and if you take him to your house, you’ll be in danger of our company too.
Sir Jasper	Alas! gentlemen, my house is not fit for you; there are none but civil women there, which are not for your turn. He, you know, can bear with the society of civil women now, ha! ha! ha! besides, he’s one of my family⁠—he’s⁠—he! he! he!
Dorilant	What is he?
Sir Jasper	Faith, my eunuch, since you’ll have it; he! he! he!
	Exeunt Sir Jasper Fidget* and Horner.*
Dorilant	I rather wish thou wert his or my cuckold. Harcourt, what a good cuckold is lost there for want of a man to make him one? Thee and I cannot have Horner’s privilege, who can make use of it.
Harcourt	Ay, to poor Horner ’tis like coming to an estate at threescore, when a man can’t be the better for’t.
Pinchwife	Come.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Presently, bud.
Dorilant	Come, let us go too.⁠—To Alithea. Madam, your servant.⁠—To Lucy. Good night, strapper.
Harcourt	Madam, though you will not let me have a good day or night, I wish you one; but dare not name the other half of my wish.
Alithea	Good night, sir, forever.
Mrs. Pinchwife	I don’t know where to put this here, dear bud, you shall eat it; nay, you shall have part of the fine gentleman’s good things, or treat, as you call it, when we come home.
Pinchwife	Indeed, I deserve it, since I furnished the best part of it. Strikes away the orange. The gallant treats presents, and gives the ball; But ’tis the absent cuckold pays for all.
	Exeunt.