The Comedies of William Congreve Part 11

VAIN. Or a young wench between pleasure and reputation.

BELL. Or as you did to-day, when half afraid you s.n.a.t.c.hed a kiss from Araminta.

VAIN. She has made a quarrel on't.

BELL. Pauh, women are only angry at such offences to have the pleasure of forgiving them.

VAIN. And I love to have the pleasure of making my peace. I should not esteem a pardon if too easily won.

BELL. Thou dost not know what thou wouldst be at; whether thou wouldst have her angry or pleased. Couldst thou be content to marry Araminta?

VAIN. Could you be content to go to heaven?

BELL. Hum, not immediately, in my conscience not heartily. I'd do a little more good in my generation first, in order to deserve it.

VAIN. Nor I to marry Araminta till I merit her.

BELL. But how the devil dost thou expect to get her if she never yield?

VAIN. That's true; but I would--

BELL. Marry her without her consent; thou 'rt a riddle beyond woman--

SCENE IV.

[_To them_] SETTER.

Trusty Setter, what tidings? How goes the project?

SETTER. As all lewd projects do, sir, where the devil prevents our endeavours with success.

BELL. A good hearing, Setter.

VAIN. Well, I'll leave you with your engineer.

BELL. And hast thou provided necessaries?

SETTER. All, all, sir; the large sanctified hat, and the little precise band, with a swinging long spiritual cloak, to cover carnal knavery--not forgetting the black patch, which Tribulation Spintext wears, as I'm informed, upon one eye, as a penal mourning for the ogling offences of his youth; and some say, with that eye he first discovered the frailty of his wife.

BELL. Well, in this fanatic father's habit will I confess Laet.i.tia.

SETTER. Rather prepare her for confession, sir, by helping her to sin.

BELL. Be at your master's lodging in the evening; I shall use the robes.

SCENE V.

SETTER _alone_.

SETTER. I shall, sir. I wonder to which of these two gentlemen I do most properly appertain: the one uses me as his attendant; the other (being the better acquainted with my parts) employs me as a pimp; why, that's much the more honourable employment--by all means. I follow one as my master, the other follows me as his conductor.

SCENE VI.

[_To him_] LUCY.

LUCY. There's the hang-dog, his man--I had a power over him in the reign of my mistress; but he is too true a _Valet de Chambre_ not to affect his master's faults, and consequently is revolted from his allegiance.

SETTER. Undoubtedly 'tis impossible to be a pimp and not a man of parts.

That is without being politic, diligent, secret, wary, and so forth--and to all this valiant as Hercules--that is, pa.s.sively valiant and actively obedient. Ah, Setter, what a treasure is here lost for want of being known.

LUCY. Here's some villainy afoot; he's so thoughtful. May be I may discover something in my mask. Worthy sir, a word with you. [_Puts on her mask_.]

SETTER. Why, if I were known, I might come to be a great man--

LUCY. Not to interrupt your meditation--

SETTER. And I should not be the first that has procured his greatness by pimping.

LUCY. Now poverty and the pox light upon thee for a contemplative pimp.

SETTER. Ha! what art who thus maliciously hast awakened me from my dream of glory? Speak, thou vile disturber--

LUCY. Of thy most vile cogitations--thou poor, conceited wretch, how wert thou valuing thyself upon thy master's employment? For he's the head pimp to Mr. Bellmour.

SETTER. Good words, damsel, or I shall--But how dost thou know my master or me?

LUCY. Yes; I know both master and man to be--

SETTER. To be men, perhaps; nay, faith, like enough: I often march in the rear of my master, and enter the breaches which he has made.

LUCY. Ay, the breach of faith, which he has begun: thou traitor to thy lawful princess.

SETTER. Why, how now! prithee who art? Lay by that worldly face and produce your natural vizor.

LUCY. No, sirrah, I'll keep it on to abuse thee and leave thee without hopes of revenge.

SETTER. Oh! I begin to smoke ye: thou art some forsaken Abigail we have dallied with heretofore--and art come to tickle thy imagination with remembrance of iniquity past.

LUCY. No thou pitiful flatterer of thy master's imperfections; thou maukin made up of the shreds and parings of his superfluous fopperies.

SETTER. Thou art thy mistress's foul self, composed of her sullied iniquities and clothing.