The Fine Lady's Airs (1709) - BestLightNovel.com
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End of the First ACT.
ACT II.
SCENE, _The Park._
_Sir_ Harry_, and the_ Collonel.
_Col._ Never a loose Lady tripping through the _Park_ to whet one's Appet.i.te this Morning?
Sir _Har._ Fie, _Collonel_, refine your Tast;----A common Woman! I'd as soon dine at a common Ordinary: Give me a Woman of Condition, there's Pride as well as Pleasure in such an Amour.
_Col._ Your Women of Condition, Pox on em, are like n.o.blemen's Dinners, all Garniture and no Meat, then, the Ceremony of Approach and Retire, palls a Man's Inclination, 'till he grows indifferent i' the Matter;-- Wou'd you Charm me, give me a ruddy Country Wench to riffe on the Gra.s.s, with no other resistance than,--What a d.i.c.kens, is the Man berwattl'd, you are an impudent, bold Rogue, and I'll call my Mother: Besides, the fear of Scandal makes your great Ladies preserve a foolish kind of Virtue, their Principles wou'd fain get rid of.
Sir _Har._ You are deceiv'd, _Collonel_, Women of Quality are above Reputation.--Is it my Lady _Tipple-dram_'s Modesty, or the effect of Ratifia, that gives her a high Colour in the Drawing-room?--Is my Lady _Sluggard_'s Religion question'd, that has never been at Church since her Baptism, or my Lady _Gamesom_'s Virtue suspected for admiring Collonel _St.u.r.dy_'s Regiment; both s.e.xes of Rank, now, use what Liberty they please without censuring one another, and consequently despise the tattling of Inferiours.
_Col._ Ha! what pert Fellow's this, that whisks it along in a Silk-Drugget Suit, with the empty Air of a Fop Mercer, or a Judge's Train-bearer?
Sir _Har._ Oh! 'Tis young _Nicknack_, a Beau Merchant, his Father dy'd lately, and left him considerably in Money, he has been bred to business, with a Liberty of Pleasure, a little vain and affected as most young Fellows are; but his Foppery is rather pretty and diverting than tiresome and impertinent. For his Father obliging him still to live in the City, and follow Business, he has turn'd Commerce into a Jest, and calls himself, The Ladies Merchant; for he imports nothing but Squirrels, Lap-dogs and _Guinea piggs_ to insnare the Women.
_Enter_ Nicknack.
_Nick_. Dear Sir _Harry_, I have been twice round the _Park_, in search of you.
Sir _Har._ Mr. _Nicknack_ pray know the _Collonel_ here; an intimate Friend o'mine just arriv'd from _Flanders_.
_Nick_. Sir, I kiss your Hands, I am glad to find for the Ladies sake, as well as your own, you are not the least disabl'd I wou'd give Ten Guineas, _Collonel_, to see an Engagement, cou'd one be secure from a Cannon Bullet.
_Col_. Ten Guineas to see an Engagement; wou'd you make a show of Desolation, and have Men kill one another to divert your Spleen? What shou'd any one do i'the Field, that's afraid of a Cannon Bullet?
_Nic_. 'Tis not impossible, Sir, in a whole Army, to find a Person as little dispos'd to swallow a Cannon Bullet as my self; but I shou'd have this preference to him, as I wou'd avoid fighting, I wou'd ask no Pay.
_Col_. Ha! Wit out of _Cheapside_, I'm afraid City Credit's at a very low Ebb.
_Nick_. Your Pardon, _Collonel_.----Sir _Harry_, have you seen Lady _Rodomont_ this Morning? I have News for her will make her Heart caper, as mine did at the Death of my Father. The _Bawble_ Friggat, Captain _Gewgaw_ Commander, is just arriv'd laden with Parrots, Parrotkeits, Monkeys, Mamosets, Leopards, Lowries, _Muscovy_-Ducks, _German_-Geese, _Danish_-Dormice, _Portugal_-Pigs, _Hannover_-Hens, and all the Rarities imaginable.
Sir _Har_. You are a happy Man, Mr. _Nicknack_, that have such new ways to ingage the Ladies; if you succeed in your Addresses to Lady _Rodomont_, from your good Fortune, all the Beaus will turn Traders, and instead of Treats, b.a.l.l.s, and Serenades, we shall have Post Nights, Polices of Insurance, Factors, Agents, and Correspondents to import Niceties for their Mistresses.
_Col_. [_aside_] Ridiculous;----And d'you think a Lady of her Birth and Estate wou'd Marry a City Merchant.
_Nick_. A City Merchant, _Collonel_,----We have Creatures, indeed, that deal in Herrings from _Holland_, and Cod from _Newfoundland_; but there are degrees in Merchandizing as well as other Professions. An Officer o'the Guards is above a Captain o'the Train Bands; and, I hope, there's difference between a Gentleman that Trades to the _Indies_, and Merchant _Rag_ that sends old Cloaths to _Jamaica_; but why, _Collonel_, shou'd the City be so much despis'd, that has so near an affinity to the Court; we have sense to distinguish Men and Manners, Breeding to pay a Valiant Prince homage, that ev'ry Year triumphs for his Country, and generosity to entertain him, where many a hungry Courtier has been glad to sneak in for a Dinner.
_Col._ [_aside_] The Fellow talks Reason, i'faith;--but prithee, Mr.
_Nicknack_, what Business can a Merchant have at this end o'the Town; for a Man that's bred up in a Counting-House to pretend to Airs and Graces, is as monstrously ridiculous, as a Play-House Orange-Wench with a Gold Watch by her side.
_Nick._ Pardon me there _Collonel_; are Pleasure and Business inconsistent, must ev'ry Citizen be a Drone, that crawls among Furr Gowns, or a Cuckold that's preferr'd by the Common-Hall; pray tell me, what difference is there between a Merchant of a good Education, and a Gentleman of Two Thousand Pounds a Year, only one has Threescore Thousand Pounds clear in his Pocket, and t'other an Estate that's mortgag'd to Threescore People; I have a House in _Billiter-Lane_, the Air's as good as _Pickadilly_. _Cornish_ makes my Cloaths, _Chevalier_ my Periwigs, I'm courted ev'ry Day to subscribe for singing Opera's, and have had Fifteen Actresses at my Levee, with their Benefit-Tickets.
Sir _Har._ But, methinks, Mr. _Nicknack_; you that have so plentiful a Fortune, shou'd leave off Business, and reside wholly amongst Men of Figure and Estates.
_Nick._ My Commerce, Sir _Harry_, is but in Impertinences without the least prospect of Gain; for the old Gentleman, when with great Industry, he had imported an Estate of Fifty Thousand Pounds, with greater Civility exported himself into the next World and left me all. Besides, Merchandize is but a sort of Gaming, and if I like it better than Hazard or Ba.s.set, why should any Man quarrel with my Genius; but, Gentlemen, your Servant.
I must find out Lady _Rodomont_; for I have ingros'd the whole s.h.i.+p's Cargo to my self, as my Father us'd to do Raw-Silk, and design her the first choice of ev'ry Thing. [_Exit._
_Col._ But what crabbed Don's this with the knavish Look of an old plodding Conveyancer, whose Face and Profession are enough to raise the Devil.
Sir _Har._ 'Tis Major _Bramble_, a factious, seditious old Rogue, that's neither Whig, nor Tory, but an Enemy to his own Country; he hates the Government, because the Government don't like him; repines at all our Successes; and his Bosom Friends are Minters, Owlers, Pettifoggers, Nonjurors that won't swear to the Government, and _Irish_ Evidences that will swear to any thing.
_Enter_ Major Bramble.
Heav'n guard the Court!--What cursed Plot's now hatching, that brings the grumbling _Major_ to the _Park_?
_Bram._ The Government, Sir _Harry_, will ne'er suspect my policy at plotting, when I have no more sense than to trust a Wit with it; but the Company I keep, may with wondrous ease form a Plot past your finding out.
Sir _Har._ What, cowardly Bullies, tatter'd Gam'sters, and Fellows that have been twice transported, poor, unhappy scoundrels that disturb the Nation to please you rich Male-Contents, and are hang'd for their reward.
_Bram._ Those Gentlemen, Sir _Harry_, you're pleas'd to term scoundrels, I honour; he that takes sanctuary in the _Fleet_, has an immediate place in my Heart; the Heroes of the _Mint_ are a formidable Body, magnanimously sowse ev'ry Fellow in a Ditch that dares to infringe their Liberties; he that's committed to _Newgate_ is in a fair way to Immortality;--He that stands in the Pillory is exalted to a very high Station; the Observator is my very good Friend; and he that writes the Review a Person of a most incomparable a.s.surance.
_Col._ But where's the Satisfaction of admiring what's Rascally?
_Bram._ You're mistaken, Sir, Virtue's oppress'd; these are the only Men of worth i'the Nation, and since the World's compos'd chiefly of Knaves and Hypocrites, it behoves ev'ry honest Fellow to over-reach the World; therefore he that runs away from his Creditors is a Man of admirable Principles, and his Creditors are very great Rogues.
_Col._ But why d'you hate the Government, _Major_, what harm has that done you.
_Bram._ Why, Sir, I was formerly in a very good Office, was turn'd out for Bribery, and have had none giv'n me since, therefore while the Government takes no notice of me, I'll take no notice of the Government.
Sir _Har._ You are a Person, _Major_, the Government ought to take notice of, I a.s.sure you--And d'you think a Man of your Character and Conversation qualify'd for a publick Post.
_Bram._ Certainly, Sir _Harry_, who makes a better Soldier than a Midnight-Scourer; who proves a sharper Judge than a Serjeant that takes Fees on both sides; or who thumps the Cus.h.i.+on better than he that has thumpt all the Wives i'the Parish; therefore that am acquainted with all you call Rogues i'the Kingdom, think my self notably qualify'd for a _Custom-House-Officer_--but whether the Government employs us, or not, my Companions are the happiest People i'the World; we meet ev'ry Day at a House within the Rules of the _Fleet_, where we have fat Venison, that's Stole out of _Windsor-Park_; _French_ Wine, that's Run i'the _Wild o'
Kent_; drink Confusion to our Arms, and talk Treason, till the Vintner crys, _Huzza, Drawer bring in my Bottle_. And there are of our Club, Four Broken-Officers, Six Suborning-Attorneys, a Disaffected-Cobler, Two Highway-Men, and Eleven _Jacobite_, Outlaw'd-Parsons.
Sir _Har._ If you are such an Enemy to your native Country, why don't you course the World, and please your self.
_Bram._ Thank you, Sir _Harry_, but tho' things don't go as I'd have them, of all Countries, I like _England_ the best, for 'tis the only Kingdom in the World that suffers Faction; where one may write Libels, affront the Ministry, deride the Laws, and set the whole Nation together by the Ears-- but whilst I am idle, mighty Matters are at a stand; in short, my Business here is to make my Addresses to Lady _Rodomont_, who having lately seen _Italy_ and _France_, like a true Woman, is return'd with a most horrid Contempt of her own Country, and may like my Principles better than the flutt'ring Airs of you Town-Sparks--afterwards, Gentlemen, I shall be proud of both your Companies to dine in the _Press-Yard_, in _Newgate_, with sev'ral very ingenious Persons, that coin better than they do i'the _Tower_. [_Exit._
_Col_. So, Lady _Rodomont_'s the Cry--How Divine a Creature is a Woman that has Six thousand a Year; the Town's quite mad after her.
Sir _Har_. And such an Estate's enough to make her mad; Women are too sanguine for such mighty Fortune; Ten thousand Pounds touches a Lady's Brain, but when they prove great Heiresses, they're--
_Col_. Oh! stark Staring, Raving! and we ought to have the Custody of em.
Sir _Har_. Let's move towards the Court, _Collonel_, where we shall meet her sailing down the _Mall_, and the Fops after her, with all the Pride of a First-Rate Man of War, that's convoying a few petty Merchant-s.h.i.+ps to the _West-Indies_.
_Enter_ Shrimp _with a Letter_.
Sir _Har_. [reads.] _By the next return of the Waggon you will receive Master_ Totty, _who was nineteen Years last Gra.s.s, with a Box of _Shrewsbury-Cakes, _and a Simnel: His Grand-Mother desires you will put him Clerk to some honest Attorney, if it be possible to find one, and the Child be fit for it, or to what else the Child shall be fit for; but if you find him fit for nothing, that you'll return him with great Care to his Grand-Mother again. He is free from ev'ry Vice, having always lain with his Grand-Mother, gone no where but to visit old Ladies with his Grand-Mother, and has never been out of his Grand-Mother's sight, since he was six Weeks old_--What a Pox do the Women send me their Fool to educate, they may as well send me their Heads to dress; but I shall leave him to my Servant; a Town Valet's Tutor and Companion good enough for a Country 'Squire--_Shrimp_, go to the _Saracen's-Head-Inn_, enquire for Master _Totty_, a Man-Child, of nineteen Years of Age, and carry him to my Lodgings. [_Exeunt_.