The Fine Lady's Airs (1709) Part 3

Mrs. _Lov._ Those Ladies, Madam, that want Mony to pay 'em, wou'd gladly excuse their Attendance.

L. _Rod._ Cozen, 'tis Ill-breeding to suppose People o' Quality want Mony, they have Business, Visits, Company, and very often are not in a Humour to part with it; when we have Mony, we are easie, whether we pay it or no; and 'tis affronting the n.o.bility, not to observe their Decorums.

_The Trades-People Enter._

[_To the Mercer._] Mr. _Farendine_, this Silk has so glaring a Mixture of preposterous Colours, I shall be taken for a North Country Bride; and so very substantial, I believe you design'd it for my Heirs and Successours.

_Mer._ Madam, 'tis a very well wrought Silk.

L. _Rod._ So well wrought, it may serve one in a Family for twenty Generations.--Have you sold any Wedding Suits lately?

_Mer._ Yes, Madam, I sold a yellow and white Damask, lin'd with a Cherry and blew Sattin, and a Goslin green Petticoat to Mrs. _Winifred Widgeon_ i'the Peak, that marry'd Squire _Hog_ o' _Darby_,--'twas her Grandmother _Trott_'s Fancy.

L. _Rod._ Nay, those old Governants, that were Dames of Honour to Queen _Bess_, make their Daughters appear as monstrous in this Age, as they themselves did in that.--Well, Mr. _Farendine_, when you have any thing slight and pretty, let me see it. [_To the Manto-Maker_] Mrs. _Flounce_, this Sleeve is most abominably cut.

_Mant. Mak._ Madam, 'tis exacly the Shape of my Lady _Snipe's_, and she s allow'd to be the Pink o'the Mode.

L. _Rod._ My Lady _Snipe_, who ever heard of her?

Mrs. _Lov._ Oh! Madam, that's the over-dress'd Lady in _Fuller's Rents_, the first in _England_, that wore Flow'rs in her Hair; She has 5000_l._ indeed, but they say 'tis in bad Hands, and the Town has neglected her these ten Years.

L. _Rod._ And wou'd you have me appear like a Turn-stile Creature? why d'you work for such Trumpery? have you not Business enough from Court.

_Mant. Mak._ Truly, Madam, I'm glad to accept of a Gown from any Body; for the Ladies, now-a-days, are grown so saving, they make all their Petticoats themselves.

L. _Rod._ Don't you work into the City too?

_Mant. Mak._ Yes, Madam, I have eleven Gowns to finish against Sunday, for very good Customers, and very religious People.

L. _Rod._ Religious People! This Creature is so employ'd by the _Canaille_, I shall have my Cloths cut to pieces, dear Cozen, let _Buda_ make me a Suit with Expedition, I'll present this to the Play-House.

_Semp._ Does your Ladys.h.i.+p like your Head, Madam?

L. _Rod._ The Lace, Mrs. _Taffety_, is so course and so heavy, I'm ready to sink beneath the weight of it.

_Semp._ Madam, 'tis right _Mechlin_, cost me Six Guineas a Yard, and I bought it too of a Merchant, that has smuggl'd many a hundred Pounds worth.

L. _Rod._ There you please me, English People are extremely fond of what's forbid, we commonly obey our Parents, and the Government much a-like; and tho' the State prohibits _Flanders_ Lace, French Alamodes, and India Sattins, we have 'em all by the way of _Holland_.--These Ruffles too are so furiously starch'd, I shall throw People down as I move along.

_Semp._ The Ladies, Madam, love a stiff Ruffle, for shou'd the Wind blow it aside, your Ladys.h.i.+p's Elbow might catch cold, but I'll slacken my Hand i'the next.--Does your Ladys.h.i.+p want a very fine short Ap.r.o.n?

L. _Rod._ Women o' Quality, Mrs. _Taffety_ have left 'em off, and those Ladies that do wear 'em, generally make 'em of their old Top-knots [_to the India Woman_] Mrs. _j.a.pan_, you are a Stranger here, I hav'n't seen you since I paid off your last Bill,

_Ind. Wom._ Oh, Madam! I have been at Death's Door, the Hypocondriacks have so prey'd upon my Spirits, they have destroy'd my Const.i.tution, such Rotations i'my Head, such an Oppression at my Stomach--but I ha' brought you a Pound of Bohee, so purifying, 'twill give your Ladys.h.i.+p a new Ma.s.s of Blood in a Quarter of an Hour.

L. _Rod._ Mrs. _Chince_ has much better.

_Ind. Wom._ Then will I eat Mrs. _Chince_.--Shall I show you some fine India Pictures?

L. _Rod._ I hate those Shadows o' Men half finish'd.

_Ind Wom._ I must own the Substance of a Man well finish'd is much better,--but here's a Set o'_j.a.pan_ Cups will ravish your Ladys.h.i.+p, a Tradesman's Wife long'd, and miscarry'd about 'em.

L. _Rod._ I'm overstock'd with _China_, and they say 'tis grown so common.

I intend to sacrifice mine to my Monkey.

_Ind. Wom._ Nay, pray, my Lady, buy somewhat of me, you know I'm in great Tribulation, I trusted a couple of Trollops, that were turn'd out of the Play-House, for having too much a.s.surance for the Stage, and set up a little Shop in _Spring Garden_; and the bold Jades are gone a stroling Fifty Pounds in my Debt. Besides, I have just now a lazy Trull of a Daughter, that run away with a Foot Soldier, return'd big with the Lord knows what, and that's no small Charge to me, that am forc'd to pad it about for a Livelihood.

L. _Rod._ Well, you may leave a Pound of Powder.

_Ind. Wom._ [_Aside._] A Pound of Powder, pox o'your Generosity, these great Ladies are grown as stingy as if they paid one ready Mony, were it not for a City-bubble now and then, I might e'en go dance with the Dogs in _May-Fair_.

L. _Rod._ [_To the Toy-Man._] Mr. _Gimcrack_, what new Fancies have you brought this Morning?

_Toy-M._ A Pair of nice _Genoa_ Gloves for your Ladys.h.i.+p, curiously made up in a gilt Wallnut Sh.e.l.l.

L. _Rod_ A Wallnut Sh.e.l.l! they can't be large enough.

_Toy-M._ Madam, I sold six Pair to my Lady _Strammell_, and her Arm's nine Inches Diameter.

L. _Rod._ What else have you?

_Toy-M._ A choice Comb for your Eye-brows, Madam, an acute Pair o'

Pinchers for your Hair, and a most ingenious French Knife to slice the Powder of your Ladys.h.i.+p's Forehead, with Tongs, Shovels, Grates, and Fenders for your Ladys.h.i.+p's Tea-Table.

L. _Rod._ Well, carry the things in, let your Bills be deliver'd to the Steward, and I'll order some part of your Mony.

_All._ We humbly thank your Ladys.h.i.+p. [_Exeunt._

L. _Rod._ Now, Cozen, we have dispatch'd these necessary Animals; pray, tell me how the Town relishes my Appearance.

Mrs. _Lov._ Your Ladys.h.i.+p's inimitable Graces, and our vast Successes abroad are the Topicks that furnish all Conversation; one Lady cries at the gilt Chariot, another swoons at the prancing Horses; and my old Lady _Lack-it_, swears you have so handsom a Set of Foot-men, the dreams of nothing else; then your Ladys.h.i.+p's Furniture is most surprizing, ev'ry thing was so admir'd, and handl'd last Visiting-day, the Ladies left little of it behind 'em.

L. _Rod. Bagatelle_! Ladies steal from one another, not for the Value of the thing, but to make an Alteration in their Closets.--But what do the Malitious say, am I envy'd, Cozen, I wou'd n't ha' the Fatigue of an Estate, unless I cou'd make the World uneasie about it.

Mrs. _Lov._ Oh! Spleen, Spleen, Madam, to the last Degree--my Lady _Testy_ has tore fifty Fans about you, broke all her China, and beat her Foot-man's Eye out; she says, 'tis a burning Shame, you monopolize all the Fellows in the Town; and truly, there's a Statute against ingrossing.--My Lady _Prudence Maxim_, cries, _A fine Estate is a fine Thing, finely manag'd, but to overdo at first, to undo at last_. And Mrs. _Indigo_, the Merchant's Wife, says, _If you knew the getting on't, you wou'd n't spend it so fast_.

L. _Rod._ I have six thousand a Year, and resolve to live single, and enjoy it; I have made the Tour of _Italy_ and _France_, have given my self the Accomplishment of both s.e.xes, and design to Visit, Game, Revel, dust the Park, haunt the Theatres, and out-flutter e'er a Fop i'the Nation; and I know not why a Lady that has the best Estate i'the County shou'd n't represent 'em in Parliament.

Mrs. _Lov._ But launching out too far, Madam, may draw Reflections on your Conduct, the English Ladies are more reserv'd than Foreigners.

L. _Rod._ The English Ladies! Shall a Corner of _Europe_ teach me Decorums, that have travers'd the whole. The French Ladies admire my Gayety; the Italians are ravish'd with my Grandeur, and if the English Ladies do blame my Conduct, who values the Censure of a little Island.-- Oh! what Transports do I feel, to provoke the Eyes and Whispers of the Mult.i.tude,--Whose Equipage is that--My Lady _Rodomont_'s?--Whose Visiting-day is it--My Lady _Rodomont_'s?--Who bespoke the Play to Night-- My Lady _Rodomont_?--But when she's once marry'd--What "Gentlewoman's that with the great Belly--Sir _Marmaduke Mortgage_'s Wife, that's come to Town to buy Clouts, her Husband lost his Estate at Roly-poly.--She's mighty Big indeed, I'm afraid she'll ha' two. Unless one cou'd find out some Plant of a Husband, with Life and no Soul; a governable, drudging Creature, that wou'd love, honour and obey his Wife; and know so little of his own Prerogative, as to change his Name for her.

Mrs. _Lov._ Really, Madam, I'm o' your Opinion, I'd have Petticoat- Government pa.s.s thro' the Nation; the Ladies shou'd possess the Estates, and make their Husbands a Jointure.

L. _Rod._ While a Woman o' Fortune remains unmarry'd, she's a Petty-Queen; Lovers innumerable trace her Steps; each c.o.xcomb thinks to be the happy Man, and ev'ry were her Presence makes a Court--but when her Reason's once subdu'd by Love, and the fond, foolish Nymph resigns her Pow'r, she's but a meer _Appendix_ to a Fellow.

_No more her darling Liberty can boast, Lovers no more her_ quondam _Beauties toast, But all her Pleasure, Pride and Charms are lost._