Scene I. Sir John Bevil’s House.
Enter Sir John Bevil and Humphry.
John Bevil
Have you ordered that I should not be interrupted while I am dressing?
Humphry
Yes, sir; I believed you had something of moment to say to me.
John Bevil
Let me see, Humphry; I think it is now full forty years since I first took thee to be about myself.
Humphry
I thank you, sir, it has been an easy forty years; and I have passed ’em without much sickness, care, or labour.
John Bevil
Thou hast a brave constitution; you are a year or two older than I am, sirrah.
Humphry
You have ever been of that mind, sir.
John Bevil
You knave, you know it; I took thee for thy gravity and sobriety, in my wild years.
Humphry
Ah, sir! our manners were formed from our different fortunes, not our different age. Wealth gave a loose to your youth, and poverty put a restraint upon mine.
John Bevil
Well, Humphry, you know I have been a kind master to you; I have used you, for the ingenuous nature I observed in you from the beginning, more like an humble friend than a servant.
Humphry
I humbly beg you’ll be so tender of me as to explain your commands, sir, without any farther preparation.
John Bevil
I’ll tell thee, then: In the first place, this wedding of my son’s in all probability—shut the door—will never be at all.
Humphry
How, sir! not be at all? for what reason is it carried on in appearance?
John Bevil
Honest Humphry, have patience; and I’ll tell thee all in order. I have, myself, in some part of my life, lived (indeed) with freedom, but, I hope, without reproach. Now, I thought liberty would be as little injurious to my son; therefore, as soon as he grew towards man, I indulged him in living after his own manner. I knew not how, otherwise, to judge of his inclination; for what can be concluded from a behaviour under restraint and fear? But what charms me above all expression is, that my son has never, in the least action, the most distant hint or word, valued himself upon that great estate of his mother’s, which, according to our marriage settlement, he has had ever since he came to age.
Humphry
No, sir; on the contrary, he seems afraid of appearing to enjoy it, before you or any belonging to you. He is as dependent and resigned to your will as if he had not a farthing but what must come from your immediate bounty. You have ever acted like a good and generous father, and he like an obedient and grateful son.
John Bevil
Nay, his carriage is so easy to all with whom he converses, that he is never assuming, never prefers himself to others, nor ever is guilty of that rough sincerity which a man is not called to, and certainly disobliges most of his acquaintance; to be short, Humphry, his reputation was so fair in the world, that old Sealand, the great India merchant, has offered his only daughter, and sole heiress to that vast estate of his, as a wife for him. You may be sure I made no difficulties, the match was agreed on, and this very day named for the wedding.
Humphry
What hinders the proceeding?
John Bevil
Don’t interrupt me. You know I was last Thursday at the masquerade; my son, you may remember, soon found us out. He knew his grandfather’s habit, which I then wore; and though it was the mode, in the last age, yet the masquers, you know, followed us as if we had been the most monstrous figures in that whole assembly.
Humphry
I remember, indeed, a young man of quality in the habit of a clown, that was particularly troublesome.
John Bevil
Right; he was too much what he seemed to be. You remember how impertinently he followed and teased us, and would know who we were.
Humphry
I know he has a mind to come into that particular. Aside.
John Bevil
Ay, he followed us till the gentleman who led the lady in the Indian mantle presented that gay creature to the rustic, and bid him (like Cymon in the fable) grow polite by falling in love, and let that worthy old gentleman alone, meaning me. The clown was not reformed, but rudely persisted, and offered to force off my mask; with that, the gentleman, throwing off his own, appeared to be my son, and in his concern for me, tore off that of the nobleman; at this they seized each other; the company called the guards, and in the surprise the lady swooned away; upon which my son quitted his adversary, and had now no care but of the lady. When raising her in his arms, “Art thou gone,” cried he, “forever?—forbid it, Heaven!” She revived at his known voice, and with the most familiar, though modest, gesture, hangs in safety over his shoulder weeping, but wept as in the arms of one before whom she could give herself a loose, were she not under observation; while she hides her face in his neck, he carefully conveys her from the company.
Humphry
I have observed this accident has dwelt upon you very strongly.
John Bevil
Her uncommon air, her noble modesty, the dignity of her person, and the occasion itself, drew the whole assembly together; and I soon heard it buzzed about she was the adopted daughter of a famous sea-officer who had served in France. Now this unexpected and public discovery of my son’s so deep concern for her—
Humphry
Was what, I suppose, alarmed Mr. Sealand, in behalf of his daughter, to break off the match?
John Bevil
You are right. He came to me yesterday and said he thought himself disengaged from the bargain; being credibly informed my son was already married, or worse, to the lady at the masquerade. I palliated matters, and insisted on our agreement; but we parted with little less than a direct breach between us.
Humphry
Well, sir; and what notice have you taken of all this to my young master?
John Bevil
That’s what I wanted to debate with you. I have said nothing to him yet—but look you, Humphry, if there is so much in this amour of his, that he denies upon my summons to marry, I have cause enough to be offended; and then by my insisting upon his marrying today, I shall know how far he is engaged to this lady in masquerade, and from thence only shall be able to take my measures. In the meantime I would have you find out how far that rogue, his man, is let into his secret. He, I know, will play tricks as much to cross me, as to serve his master.
Humphry
Why do you think so of him, sir? I believe he is no worse than I was for you, at your son’s age.
John Bevil
I see it in the rascal’s looks. But I have dwelt on these things too long; I’ll go to my son immediately, and while I’m gone, your part is to convince his rogue, Tom, that I am in earnest.—I’ll leave him to you.
Exit Sir John Bevil.
Humphry
Well, though this father and son live as well together as possible, yet their fear of giving each other pain is attended with constant mutual uneasiness. I’m sure I have enough to do to be honest, and yet keep well with them both. But they know I love ’em, and that makes the task less painful however. Oh, here’s the prince of poor coxcombs, the representative of all the better fed than taught. Ho! ho! Tom, whither so gay and so airy this morning?
Enter Tom, singing.
Tom
Sir, we servants of single gentlemen are another kind of people than you domestic ordinary drudges that do business; we are raised above you. The pleasures of board-wages, tavern dinners, and many a clear gain; vails, alas! you never heard or dreamt of.
Humphry
Thou hast follies and vices enough for a man of ten thousand a year, though ’tis but as t’other day that I sent for you to town to put you into Mr. Sealand’s family, that you might learn a little before I put you to my young master, who is too gentle for training such a rude thing as you were into proper obedience. You then pulled off your hat to everyone you met in the street, like a bashful great awkward cub as you were. But your great oaken cudgel, when you were a booby, became you much better than that dangling stick at your button, now you are a fop. That’s fit for nothing, except it hangs there to be ready for your master’s hand when you are impertinent.
Tom
Uncle Humphry, you know my master scorns to strike his servants. You talk as if the world was now just as it was when my old master and you were in your youth; when you went to dinner because it was so much o’clock, when the great blow was given in the hall at the pantry door, and all the family came out of their holes in such strange dresses and formal faces as you see in the pictures in our long gallery in the country.
Humphry
Why, you wild rogue!
Tom
You could not fall to your dinner till a formal fellow in a black gown said something over the meat, as if the cook had not made it ready enough.
Humphry
Sirrah, who do you prate after? Despising men of sacred characters! I hope you never heard my good young master talk so like a profligate.
Tom
Sir, I say you put upon me, when I first came to town, about being orderly, and the doctrine of wearing shams to make linen last clean a fortnight, keeping my clothes fresh, and wearing a frock within doors.
Humphry
Sirrah, I gave you those lessons because I supposed at that time your master and you might have dined at home every day, and cost you nothing; then you might have made a good family servant. But the gang you have frequented since at chocolate houses and taverns, in a continual round of noise and extravagance—
Tom
I don’t know what you heavy inmates call noise and extravagance; but we gentlemen, who are well fed, and cut a figure, sir, think it a fine life, and that we must be very pretty fellows who are kept only to be looked at.
Humphry
Very well, sir, I hope the fashion of being lewd and extravagant, despising of decency and order, is almost at an end, since it has arrived at persons of your quality.
Tom
Master Humphry, ha! ha! you were an unhappy lad to be sent up to town in such queer days as you were. Why, now, sir, the lackeys are the men of pleasure of the age, the top gamesters; and many a laced coat about town have had their education in our parti-coloured regiment. We are false lovers; have a taste of music, poetry, billet-doux, dress, politics; ruin damsels; and when we are tired of this lewd town, and have a mind to take up, whip into our masters’ wigs and linen, and marry fortunes.
Humphry
Hey-day!
Tom
Nay, sir, our order is carried up to the highest dignities and distinctions; step but into the Painted Chamber, and by our titles you’d take us all for men of quality. Then, again, come down to the Court of Requests, and you see us all laying our broken heads together for the good of the nation; and though we never carry a question nemine contradicente, yet this I can say, with a safe conscience (and I wish every gentleman of our cloth could lay his hand upon his heart and say the same), that I never took so much as a single mug of beer for my vote in all my life.
Humphry
Sirrah, there is no enduring your extravagance; I’ll hear you prate no longer. I wanted to see you to enquire how things go with your master, as far as you understand them; I suppose he knows he is to be married today.
Tom
Ay, sir, he knows it, and is dressed as gay as the sun; but, between you and I, my dear, he has a very heavy heart under all that gaiety. As soon as he was dressed I retired, but overheard him sigh in the most heavy manner. He walked thoughtfully to and fro in the room, then went into his closet; when he came out he gave me this for his mistress, whose maid, you know—
Humphry
Is passionately fond of your fine person.
Tom
The poor fool is so tender, and loves to hear me talk of the world, and the plays, operas, and ridottos for the winter, the parks and Belsize for our summer diversions; and “Lard!” says she, “you are so wild, but you have a world of humour.”
Humphry
Coxcomb! Well, but why don’t you run with your master’s letter to Mrs. Lucinda, as he ordered you?
Tom
Because Mrs. Lucinda is not so easily come at as you think for.
Humphry
Not easily come at? Why, sirrah, are not her father and my old master agreed that she and Mr. Bevil are to be one flesh before tomorrow morning?
Tom
It’s no matter for that; her mother, it seems, Mrs. Sealand, has not agreed to it; and you must know, Mr. Humphry, that in that family the grey mare is the better horse.
Humphry
What dost thou mean?
Tom
In one word, Mrs. Sealand pretends to have a will of her own, and has provided a relation of hers, a stiff, starched philosopher, and a wise fool, for her daughter; for which reason, for these ten days past, she has suffered no message nor letter from my master to come near her.
Humphry
And where had you this intelligence?
Tom
From a foolish fond soul that can keep nothing from me; one that will deliver this letter too, if she is rightly managed.
Humphry
What! her pretty handmaid, Mrs. Phillis?
Tom
Even she, sir; this is the very hour, you know, she usually comes hither, under a pretence of a visit to your housekeeper, forsooth, but in reality to have a glance at—
Humphry
Your sweet face, I warrant you.
Tom
Nothing else in nature; you must know, I love to fret and play with the little wanton.
Humphry
Play with the little wanton! What will this world come to!
Tom
I met her this morning in a new manteau and petticoat, not a bit the worse for her lady’s wearing; and she has always new thoughts and new airs with new clothes—then she never fails to steal some glance or gesture from every visitant at their house; and is, indeed, the whole town of coquets at secondhand. But here she comes; in one motion she speaks and describes herself better than all the words in the world can.
Humphry
Then I hope, dear sir, when your own affair is over, you will be so good as to mind your master’s with her.
Tom
Dear Humphry, you know my master is my friend, and those are people I never forget.
Humphry
Sauciness itself! but I’ll leave you to do your best for him.
Exit.
Enter Phillis.
Phillis
Oh, Mr. Thomas, is Mrs. Sugar-key at home? Lard, one is almost ashamed to pass along the streets! The town is quite empty, and nobody of fashion left in it; and the ordinary people do so stare to see anything, dressed like a woman of condition, as it were on the same floor with them, pass by. Alas! alas! it is a sad thing to walk. O fortune! fortune!
Tom
What! a sad thing to walk? Why, Madam Phillis, do you wish yourself lame?
Phillis
No, Mr. Tom, but I wish I were generally carried in a coach or chair, and of a fortune neither to stand nor go, but to totter, or slide, to be shortsighted, or stare, to fleer in the face, to look distant, to observe, to overlook, yet all become me; and, if I was rich, I could twire and loll as well as the best of them. Oh, Tom! Tom! is it not a pity that you should be so great a coxcomb, and I so great a coquet, and yet be such poor devils as we are?
Tom
Mrs. Phillis, I am your humble servant for that—
Phillis
Yes, Mr. Thomas, I know how much you are my humble servant, and know what you said to Mrs. Judy, upon seeing her in one of her lady’s cast manteaus: That anyone would have thought her the lady, and that she had ordered the other to wear it till it sat easy; for now only it was becoming. To my lady it was only a covering, to Mrs. Judy it was a habit. This you said, after somebody or other. Oh, Tom! Tom! thou art as false and as base as the best gentleman of them all; but, you wretch, talk to me no more on the old odious subject—don’t, I say.
Tom
I know not how to resist your commands, madam. In a submissive tone, retiring.
Phillis
Commands about parting are grown mighty easy to you of late.
Tom
Oh, I have her; I have nettled and put her into the right temper to be wrought upon and set a-prating. Aside.—Why, truly, to be plain with you, Mrs. Phillis, I can take little comfort of late in frequenting your house.
Phillis
Pray, Mr. Thomas, what is it all of a sudden offends your nicety at our house?
Tom
I don’t care to speak particulars, but I dislike the whole.
Phillis
I thank you, sir, I am a part of that whole.
Tom
Mistake me not, good Phillis.
Phillis
Good Phillis! Saucy enough. But however—
Tom
I say, it is that thou art a part, which gives me pain for the disposition of the whole. You must know, madam, to be serious, I am a man, at the bottom, of prodigious nice honour. You are too much exposed to company at your house. To be plain, I don’t like so many, that would be your mistress’s lovers, whispering to you.
Phillis
Don’t think to put that upon me. You say this, because I wrung you to the heart when I touched your guilty conscience about Judy.
Tom
Ah, Phillis! Phillis! if you but knew my heart!
Phillis
I know too much on’t.
Tom
Nay, then, poor Crispo’s fate and mine are one. Therefore give me leave to say, or sing at least, as he does upon the same occasion—“Se vedette,” etc. Sings.
Phillis
What, do you think I’m to be fobbed off with a song? I don’t question but you have sung the same to Mrs. Judy too.
Tom
Don’t disparage your charms, good Phillis, with jealousy of so worthless an object; besides, she is a poor hussy, and if you doubt the sincerity of my love, you will allow me true to my interest. You are a fortune, Phillis.
Phillis
What would the fop be at now? In good time, indeed, you shall be setting up for a fortune!
Tom
Dear Mrs. Phillis, you have such a spirit that we shall never be dull in marriage when we come together. But I tell you, you are a fortune, and you have an estate in my hands. He pulls out a purse, she eyes it.
Phillis
What pretence have I to what is in your hands, Mr. Tom?
Tom
As thus: there are hours, you know, when a lady is neither pleased or displeased; neither sick or well; when she lolls or loiters; when she’s without desires—from having more of everything than she knows what to do with.
Phillis
Well, what then?
Tom
When she has not life enough to keep her bright eyes quite open, to look at her own dear image in the glass.
Phillis
Explain thyself, and don’t be so fond of thy own prating.
Tom
There are also prosperous and good-natured moments: as when a knot or a patch is happily fixed; when the complexion particularly flourishes.
Phillis
Well, what then? I have not patience!
Tom
Why, then—or on the like occasions—we servants who have skill to know how to time business, see when such a pretty folded thing as this shows a letter may be presented, laid, or dropped, as best suits the present humour. And, madam, because it is a long wearisome journey to run through all the several stages of a lady’s temper, my master, who is the most reasonable man in the world, presents you this to bear your charges on the road. Gives her the purse.
Phillis
Now you think me a corrupt hussy.
Tom
O fie, I only think you’ll take the letter.
Phillis
Nay, I know you do, but I know my own innocence; I take it for my mistress’s sake.
Tom
I know it, my pretty one, I know it.
Phillis
Yes, I say I do it, because I would not have my mistress deluded by one who gives no proof of his passion; but I’ll talk more of tips as you see me on my way home. No, Tom, I assure thee, I take this trash of thy master’s, not for the value of the thing, but as it convinces me he has a true respect for my mistress. I remember a verse to the purpose—
They may be false who languish and complain,
But they who part with money never feign.
Exeunt.