Scene + 

II + 

The same. + 

Mirabell and Mrs. Fainall. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

They are here yet. + 

Mirabell + 

They are turning into the other walk. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

While I only hated my husband, I could bear to see him; but since I have despised him, he’s too offensive. + 

Mirabell + 

Oh, you should hate with prudence. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Yes, for I have loved with indiscretion. + 

Mirabell + 

You should have just so much disgust for your husband as may be sufficient to make you relish your lover. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

You have been the cause that I have loved without bounds, and would you set limits to that aversion of which you have been the occasion? Why did you make me marry this man? + 

Mirabell + 

Why do we daily commit disagreeable and dangerous actions? To save that idol, reputation. If the familiarities of our loves had produced that consequence of which you were apprehensive, where could you have fixed a father’s name with credit but on a husband? I knew Fainall to be a man lavish of his morals, an interested and professing friend, a false and a designing lover, yet one whose wit and outward fair behaviour have gained a reputation with the town, enough to make that woman stand excused who has suffered herself to be won by his addresses. A better man ought not to have been sacrificed to the occasion; a worse had not answered to the purpose. When you are weary of him you know your remedy. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

I ought to stand in some degree of credit with you, Mirabell. + 

Mirabell + 

In justice to you, I have made you privy to my whole design, and put it in your power to ruin or advance my fortune. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Whom have you instructed to represent your pretended uncle? + 

Mirabell + 

Waitwell, my servant. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

He is an humble servant to Foible, my mother’s woman, and may win her to your interest. + 

Mirabell + 

Care is taken for that⁠—she is won and worn by this time. They were married this morning. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Who? + 

Mirabell + 

Waitwell and Foible. I would not tempt my servant to betray me by trusting him too far. If your mother, in hopes to ruin me, should consent to marry my pretended uncle, he might, like Mosca in The Fox, stand upon terms; so I made him sure beforehand. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

So, if my poor mother is caught in a contract, you will discover the imposture betimes, and release her by producing a certificate of her gallant’s former marriage. + 

Mirabell + 

Yes, upon condition that she consent to my marriage with her niece, and surrender the moiety of her fortune in her possession. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

She talked last night of endeavouring at a match between Millamant and your uncle. + 

Mirabell + 

That was by Foible’s direction and my instruction, that she might seem to carry it more privately. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Well, I have an opinion of your success, for I believe my lady will do anything to get an husband; and when she has this, which you have provided for her, I suppose she will submit to anything to get rid of him. + 

Mirabell + 

Yes, I think the good lady would marry anything that resembled a man, though ’twere no more than what a butler could pinch out of a napkin. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Female frailty! We must all come to it, if we live to be old, and feel the craving of a false appetite when the true is decayed. + 

Mirabell + 

An old woman’s appetite is depraved like that of a girl⁠—’tis the greensickness of a second childhood, and, like the faint offer of a latter spring, serves but to usher in the fall, and withers in an affected bloom. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Here’s your mistress. + 

Enter Mrs. Millamant, Witwoud and Mincing. + 

Mirabell + 

Here she comes, i’faith, full sail, with her fan spread and streamers out, and a shoal of fools for tenders.⁠—Ha, no, I cry her mercy. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

I see but one poor empty sculler, and he tows her woman after him. + 

Mirabell + 

To Mrs. Millamant. You seem to be unattended, madam. You used to have the beau monde throng after you, and a flock of gay fine perukes hovering round you. + 

Witwoud + 

Like moths about a candle. I had like to have lost my comparison for want of breath. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Oh, I have denied myself airs today. I have walked as fast through the crowd. + 

Witwoud + 

As a favourite just disgraced, and with as few followers. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Dear Mr. Witwoud, truce with your similitudes, for I am as sick of ’em⁠— + 

Witwoud + 

As a physician of a good air. I cannot help it, madam, though ’tis against myself. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Yet again! Mincing, stand between me and his wit. + 

Witwoud + 

Do, Mrs. Mincing, like a screen before a great fire. I confess I do blaze today; I am too bright. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

But, dear Millamant, why were you so long? + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Long! Lord, have I not made violent haste? I have asked every living thing I met for you; I have enquired after you, as after a new fashion. + 

Witwoud + 

Madam, truce with your similitudes.⁠—No, you met her husband, and did not ask him for her. + 

Mirabell + 

By your leave, Witwoud, that were like enquiring after an old fashion to ask a husband for his wife. + 

Witwoud + 

Hum, a hit, a hit, a palpable hit! I confess it. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

You were dressed before I came abroad. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Aye, that’s true. Oh, but then I had⁠—Mincing, what had I? Why was I so long? + 

Mincing + 

O mem, your la’ship stayed to peruse a packet of letters. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Oh, aye, letters⁠—I had letters⁠—I am persecuted with letters⁠—I hate letters. Nobody knows how to write letters; and yet one has ’em, one does not know why. They serve one to pin up one’s hair. + 

Witwoud + 

Is that the way? Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Only with those in verse, Mr. Witwoud. I never pin up my hair with prose⁠—I think I tried once, Mincing. + 

Mincing + 

O mem, I shall never forget it. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Aye, poor Mincing tift and tift all the morning. + 

Mincing + 

Till I had the cramp in my fingers, I’ll vow, mem. And all to no purpose. But when your la’ship pins it up with poetry, it fits so pleasant the next day as anything, and is so pure and so crips. + 

Witwoud + 

Indeed, so crips? + 

Mincing + 

You’re such a critic, Mr. Witwoud. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Mirabell, did you take exceptions last night? Oh, aye, and went away.⁠—Now I think on’t I’m angry⁠—no, now I think on’t I’m pleased⁠—for I believe I gave you some pain. + 

Mirabell + 

Does that please you? + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Infinitely; I love to give pain. + 

Mirabell + 

You would affect a cruelty which is not in your nature; your true vanity is in the power of pleasing. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Oh, I ask your pardon for that. One’s cruelty is one’s power, and when one parts with one’s cruelty one parts with one’s power, and when one has parted with that, I fancy one’s old and ugly. + 

Mirabell + 

Aye, aye; suffer your cruelty to ruin the object of your power, to destroy your lover⁠—and then how vain, how lost a thing you’ll be! Nay, ’tis true; you are no longer handsome when you’ve lost your lover: your beauty dies upon the instant. For beauty is the lover’s gift; ’tis he bestows your charms⁠—your glass is all a cheat. The ugly and the old, whom the looking-glass mortifies, yet after commendation can be flattered by it, and discover beauties in it: for that reflects our praises rather than your face. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Oh, the vanity of these men!⁠—Fainall, d’ye hear him? If they did not commend us, we were not handsome! Now you must know they could not commend one if one was not handsome. Beauty the lover’s gift! Lord, what is a lover, that it can give? Why, one makes lovers as fast as one pleases, and they live as long as one pleases, and they die as soon as one pleases; and then, if one pleases, one makes more. + 

Witwoud + 

Very pretty. Why, you make no more of making of lovers, madam, than of making so many card-matches. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

One no more owes one’s beauty to a lover than one’s wit to an echo. They can but reflect what we look and say; vain empty things if we are silent or unseen, and want a being. + 

Mirabell + 

Yet, to those two vain empty things, you owe two the greatest pleasures of your life. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

How so? + 

Mirabell + 

To your lover you owe the pleasure of hearing yourselves praised, and to an echo the pleasure of hearing yourselves talk. + 

Witwoud + 

But I know a lady that loves talking so incessantly, she won’t give an echo fair play; she has that everlasting rotation of tongue that an echo must wait till she dies before it can catch her last words. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Oh, fiction⁠—Fainall, let us leave these men. + 

Mirabell + 

Aside to Mrs. Fainall. Draw off Witwoud. + 

Mrs. Fainall + 

Immediately;⁠—I have a word or two for Mr. Witwoud. + 

Exeunt Mrs. Fainall and Witwoud. + 

Mirabell + 

I would beg a little private audience too.⁠—You had the tyranny to deny me last night, though you knew I came to impart a secret to you that concerned my love. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

You saw I was engaged. + 

Mirabell + 

Unkind! You had the leisure to entertain a herd of fools: things who visit you from their excessive idleness, bestowing on your easiness that time which is the incumbrance of their lives. How can you find delight in such society? It is impossible they should admire you; they are not capable; or, if they were, it should be to you as a mortification: for, sure, to please a fool is some degree of folly. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

I please myself: besides, sometimes to converse with fools is for my health. + 

Mirabell + 

Your health! Is there a worse disease than the conversation of fools? + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Yes, the vapours; fools are physic for it, next to asafoetida. + 

Mirabell + 

You are not in a course of fools? + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Mirabell, if you persist in this offensive freedom you’ll displease me. I think I must resolve after all not to have you; we shan’t agree. + 

Mirabell + 

Not in our physic, it may be. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

And yet our distemper in all likelihood will be the same; for we shall be sick of one another. I shan’t endure to be reprimanded nor instructed; ’tis so dull to act always by advice, and so tedious to be told of one’s faults⁠—I can’t bear it. Well, I won’t have you, Mirabell⁠—I’m resolved⁠—I think⁠—you may go⁠—ha, ha, ha! What would you give that you could help loving me? + 

Mirabell + 

I would give something that you did not know I could not help it. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Come, don’t look grave then. Well, what do you say to me? + 

Mirabell + 

I say that a man may as soon make a friend by his wit, or a fortune by his honesty, as win a woman with plain-dealing and sincerity. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Sententious Mirabell!⁠—Prithee don’t look with that violent and inflexible wise face, like Solomon at the dividing of the child in an old tapestry hanging! + 

Mirabell + 

You are merry, madam, but I would persuade you for a moment to be serious. + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

What, with that face? No, if you keep your countenance, ’tis impossible I should hold mine. Well, after all, there is something very moving in a lovesick face. Ha, ha, ha! Well I won’t laugh; don’t be peevish. Heigho! Now I’ll be melancholy, as melancholy as a watch-light. Well, Mirabell, if ever you will win me, woo me now.⁠—Nay, if you are so tedious, fare you well⁠—I see they are walking away. + 

Mirabell + 

Can you not find in the variety of your disposition one moment⁠— + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

To hear you tell me Foible’s married, and your plot like to speed⁠—no. + 

Mirabell + 

But how you came to know it? + 

Mrs. Millamant + 

Without the help of the devil, you can’t imagine; unless she should tell me herself. Which of the two it may have been, I will leave you to consider; and when you have done thinking of that, think of me. + 

Exit. + 

Mirabell + 

I have something more.⁠—Gone!⁠—Think of you? To think of a whirlwind, though ’twere in a whirlwind, were a case of more steady contemplation, a very tranquillity of mind and mansion. A fellow that lives in a windmill has not a more whimsical dwelling than the heart of a man that is lodged in a woman. There is no point of the compass to which they cannot turn, and by which they are not turned, and by one as well as another; for motion, not method, is their occupation. To know this, and yet continue to be in love, is to be made wise from the dictates of reason, and yet persevere to play the fool by the force of instinct.⁠—Oh, here come my pair of turtles. What, billing so sweetly? Is not Valentine’s day over with you yet? + 

To him Waitwell and Foible. + 

Mirabell + 

Sirrah, Waitwell, why, sure, you think you were married for your own recreation and not for my conveniency. + 

Waitwell + 

Your pardon, sir. With submission, we have indeed been solacing in lawful delights; but still with an eye to business, sir. I have instructed her as well as I could. If she can take your directions as readily as my instructions, sir, your affairs are in a prosperous way. + 

Mirabell + 

Give you joy, Mrs. Foible. + 

Foible + 

Oh ’las, sir, I’m so ashamed.⁠—I’m afraid my lady has been in a thousand inquietudes for me. But I protest, sir, I made as much haste as I could. + 

Waitwell + 

That she did indeed, sir. It was my fault that she did not make more. + 

Mirabell + 

That I believe. + 

Foible + 

But I told my lady as you instructed me, sir, that I had a prospect of seeing Sir Rowland, your uncle, and that I would put her ladyship’s picture in my pocket to show him, which I’ll be sure to say has made him so enamoured of her beauty, that he burns with impatience to lie at her ladyship’s feet and worship the original. + 

Mirabell + 

Excellent Foible! Matrimony has made you eloquent in love. + 

Waitwell + 

I think she has profited, sir. I think so. + 

Foible + 

You have seen Madam Millamant, sir? + 

Mirabell + 

Yes. + 

Foible + 

I told her, sir, because I did not know that you might find an opportunity; she had so much company last night. + 

Mirabell + 

Your diligence will merit more. In the meantime⁠—Gives money. + 

Foible + 

O dear sir, your humble servant! + 

Waitwell + 

Spouse⁠— + 

Mirabell + 

Stand off, sir, not a penny. Go on and prosper, Foible. The lease shall be made good and the farm stocked, if we succeed. + 

Foible + 

I don’t question your generosity, sir, and you need not doubt of success. If you have no more commands, sir, I’ll be gone; I’m sure my lady is at her toilet, and can’t dress till I come. Oh dear, I’m sure that Looking out. was Mrs. Marwood that went by in a mask; if she has seen me with you I’m sure she’ll tell my lady. I’ll make haste home and prevent her. Your servant, Sir.⁠—B’w’y, Waitwell. + 

Exit. + 

Waitwell + 

Sir Rowland, if you please. The jade’s so pert upon her preferment she forgets herself. + 

Mirabell + 

Come, sir, will you endeavour to forget yourself⁠—and transform into Sir Rowland? + 

Waitwell + 

Why, sir, it will be impossible I should remember myself. Married, knighted, and attended all in one day! ’Tis enough to make any man forget himself. The difficulty will be how to recover my acquaintance and familiarity with my former self, and fall from my transformation to a reformation into Waitwell. Nay, I shan’t be quite the same Waitwell neither⁠—for now I remember me, I’m married, and can’t be my own man again. + 

Aye, there’s my grief; that’s the sad change of life: + 

To lose my title, and yet keep my wife. + 

Exeunt. + 