Flip. No. Brass. No, so I think; men of our end of the town are better bred than to use ceremony. With a long periwig we strike the lady; with a youknow-what we soften the maid; and when the parson has done his job, we open the affair to the family. Will you slip this letter into her prayerbook, my little queen? It's a very passionate one -It's sealed with a heart and a dagger; you may see by that what he intends to do with himself. Flip. Are there any verses in it? If not, I won't touch it. Brass. Not one word in prose; it's dated in rhyme. [She takes it. Flip. Well-but have you brought nothing else? Brass. Gad forgive me; I'm the forgetfullest dog-I have a letter for you too-here-'tis in a purse; but it's in prose; you won't touch it. Flip. Yes, hang it, it is not good to be too dainty. Brass. How useful a virtue is humility! Well, child, we shall have an answer to-morrow, sha'n't we? Flip. I cann't promise you that, for our young gentlewoman is not so often in my way as she would be. Her father (who is a citizen from the foot to the forehead of him) lets her seldom converse with her mother-in-law and me, for fear she should learn the airs of a woman of quality. But I'll take the first occasion. See, there's my lady; go in and deliver your letter to her. [Excunt. SCENE II-A Parlour. Enter CLARISSA, followed by FLIPPANTA and BRASS. Clar. No messages this morning from any body, Flippanta? Lard, how dull that is! O, there's Brass I did not see thee, Brass, What news dost thou bring? Brass. Only a letter from Araminta, madam. Clar. Give it me-open it for me, Flippanta; I am so lazy to-day. [Sitting down. Brass. [To FLIP.] Be sure now you deliver my master's as carefully as I do this. Flip. Don't trouble thyself; I'm no novice. Clar. [To BRASS.] 'Tis well; there needs no answer, since she'll be here so soon. Brass. Your ladyship has no farther commands then? Clar. Not at this time, honest Brass. Flippanta! [Exit BRASS. Flip. Madam. Clar. My husband's in love. Flip. In love! Clar. With Araminta. Flip. Impossible! Clar. This letter from her is to give me an account of it. Flip. Methinks you are not very much alarmed. Clar. No; thou knowest I'm not much tortured with jealousy. Flip. Nay, you are much in the right on't, madam; for jealousy's a city passion; 'tis a thing unknown amongst people of quality. Clar. Fie! a woman must indeed be of a mechanic mould, who is either troubled or pleased with any thing her husband can do to her. Pr'ythee mention him no more; 'tis the dullest theme. Flip. 'Tis splenetic indeed. But when once you open your basset-table, I hope that will put him out of your head. Clar. Alas, Flippanta, I begin to grow weary even of the thoughts of that too. Flip. How so? Clar. Why, I have thought on't a day and a night already, and four-and-twenty hours, thou knowest, is enough to make one weary of any thing. Flip. Now, by my conscience, you have more woman in you than all your sex together: You never know what you would have. Clar. Thou mistakest the thing quite. I always know what I lack, but I am never pleased with what I have. The want of a thing is perplexing enough, but the possession of it is intolerable. Flip. Well, I don't know what you are made of, but other women would think themselves bless'd in your case: handsome, witty, loved by every body, and of so happy a composure, to care a fig for nobody. You have no one passion but that of your pleasures, and you have in me a servant devoted to all your desires, let them be as extravagant as they will: yet all this is nothing: you can still be out of humour. Clar. Alas, I have but too much cause. Flip. Why, what have you to complain of? Clar. Alas, I have more subjects for spleen than one: Is it not a most horrible thing that I should be but a scrivener's wife?- -Come don't flatter me; don't you think Nature designed me for something plus elevé ? Flip. Nay, that's certain; but, on the other side, methinks you ought to be in some measure content, since you live like a woman of quality, tho' you are none. Clar. O fie! the very quintessence of it is wanting. Flip. What's that? Clar. Why, I dare abuse no body: I'm afraid to affront people, though I don't like their faces; or to ruin their reputations, though they pique me to it, by taking ever so much pains to preserve 'em: I dare not raise a lie of a man, though he neglects to make love to me; nor report a woman to be a fool, tho' she's handsomer than I am. In short, I dare not so much as bid my footman kick the people out of doors, though they come to ask me for what I owe them. Flip. All this is very hard indeed. Clar. Ah, Flippanta, the perquisites of quality are of an unspeakable value. Flip. They are of some use, I must confess; but we must not expect to have every thing. You have wit and beauty, and a fool to your husband: come, come, madam, that's a good portion for one. Clar. Alas, what signifies beauty and wit, when one dares neither jilt the men, nor abuse the women? 'Tis a sad thing, Flippanta, when wit's confined; 'tis worse than the rising of the lights: I have been sometimes almost choaked with scandal, and durst not cough it up, for want of being a countess. Flip. Poor lady! Clar. O! liberty is a fine thing, Flippanta; it's a great help in conversation to have leave to say what one will. I have seen a woman of quality, who has not had one grain of wit, entertain a whole company the most agreeably in the world, only with her malice. But 'tis in vain to repine: I can't mend my condition till my husband dies; so I'll say no more on't, but think of making the most of the state I am in. Flip. That's your best way, mradam; and in order to it, pray consider how you'll get some ready money to set your basset-table going; for that's necessary. Clar. Thou say'st true; but what trick I shall play my husband to get some, I don't know; for my pretence of losing my diamond necklace has put the man into such a passion, I'm afraid he won't hear reason. Flip. No matter; he begins to think 'tis lost in earnest; so I fancy you may venture to sell it, and raise money that way. Clar. That cann't be, for he has left odious no es with all the goldsmiths in town. Flip. Well, we must pawn it then. Clar. I'm quite tired with dealing with those pawn-brokers. Flip. I'm afraid you'll continue the trade a great while, for all that. [Aside. Enter JESSAMIN. Jes. Madam, there's the woman below that sells paint and patches, iron boddice, false teeth, and all sorts of things to the ladies; I cann't think of her name. Flip. 'Tis Mrs Amlet; she wants money. Clar. Well, I ha'n't enough for myself; it's an unreasonable thing she should think I have any for her. Flip. She's a troublesome jade. Clar. So are all people that come a dunning. Flip. What will you do with her? Clar. I have just now thought on't. She's very rich, that woman is, Flippanta; I'll borrow some money of her. Flip. Borrow! Sure you jest, madam. Clar. No, I'm in earnest; I give thee commission to do it for me. Flip. Me! Clar. Why dost thou stare, and look so ungainly? Don't I speak to be understood? Flip. Yes, I understand you well enough; but Mrs Amlet Clar. But Mrs Amlet must lend me some money: where shall I have any to pay her else? Flip. That's true; I never thought of that, truly. But here she is. Enter Mrs AMLET. Clar. How d'you do? How d'you do, Mrs Amlet? I ha'n't seen you these thousand years, and yet I believe I'm down in your books. Mrs Am. O, madam, I don't come for that, alack. Flip. Good morrow, Mrs Amlet. Mrs Am. Good morrow, Mrs Flippanta. Clar. How much am I indebted to you, Mrs Amlet? Mrs Am. Nay, if your ladyship desires to see your bill, I believe I may have it about me.There, madam, if it be not too much fatigue to you to look it over. Clar. Let me see it, for I hate to be in debt, where I am obliged to pay. [Aside.] [Reads.] "Imprimis, For bolstering out the Countess of Crump's left hip"-O fie! this does not belong to me. Mrs Am. I beg your ladyship's pardon: I mistook indeed: 'tis a countess's bill I have writ out to little purpose. I furnished her two years ago with three pair of hips, and am not paid for them yet: but some are better customers than some. There's your ladyship's bill, madam. Clar. "For the idea of a new-invented commode"- -Ay, this may be mine, but 'tis of a preposterous length. Do you think I can waste time to read every article, Mrs Amlet? I'd as lief read a sermon. Mrs Am. Alack-a-day, there's no need of fatiguing yourself at that rate; cast an eye only. your honour pleases, upon the sum total. Clar. Total, fifty-six pounds-and odd things. Flip. But six-and-fifty pounds! Mrs Am. Nay, another body would have made it twice as much; but there's a blessing goes along with a moderate profit. Clar. Flippanta, go to my cashier; let him give you six-and-fifty pounds. Make haste. Don't you hear me? Six-and-fifty pounds. Is it so difficult to be comprehended? Flip. No, madam; I, I comprehend six-andfifty pounds, but Clar. But go and fetch it then. Flip. What she means I don't know; [Aside;] but I shall, I suppose, before I bring her the [Exit FLIP. money. Clar. [Setting her hair in a pocket glass.] The trade you follow gives you a great deal of trouble, Mrs Amlet? Mrs Am. Alack-a-day, a world of pain, madam, and yet there's small profit, as your honour sees by your bill. Clar. Poor woman! Sometimes you have great losses, Mrs Amlet? [Aside. Dick. What a misfortune! Mrs Am. Good Lard! how bravely decked thou art. But it's all one; I am thy mother still; and though thou art a wicked child, Nature will speak: I love thee still. Ah, Dick, my poor Dick! [Embracing him. Dick. Blood and thunder! will you ruin me? [Breaking from her. Mrs Am. Ah, the blasphemous rogue, how he swears! Dick. You destroy all my hopes. Mrs Am. Will your mother's kiss destroy you, varlet? Thou art an ungracious bird: kneel down and ask my blessing, sirrah. Dick. Death and furies! Mrs Am. Ah, he's a proper young man; see what a shape he has. Ah, poor child! [Running to embrace him, he still avoiding her. Dick. Oons! keep off: the woman's mad. If any body comes, my fortune's lost. Mrs Am. What fortune, ha? Speak, graceless. Ah, Dick, thou❜lt be hanged, Dick! Dick. Good, dear mother, now, don't call me Dick here. Mrs Am. Not call thee Dick! Is it not thy name? What shall I call thee? Mr Amlet? ha? Art not thou a presumptuous rascal? Hark you, sirrah, I hear of your tricks: You disown me for your mother, and say I am but your nurse. Is not this true? Dick. No, I love you, I respect you, [Taking her hand,] I am all duty. But if you discover me here, you ruin the fairest prospect that man ever had. Mrs Am. What prospect? ha? Come, this is a lie now. Dick. No, my honoured parent, what I say is true: I'm about a great fortune. I'll bring you home a daughter-in-law in a coach and six horses, if you'll but be quiet: I can't tell you more now. Mrs Am. Is it possible? Dick. 'Tis true, by Jupiter. Mrs Am. My dear ladDick. For Heaven's sakeMrs Am. But tell me, Dick Dick. I'll follow you home in a moment, and tell you all. Mrs Am. What a shape is there! Dick. Pray, mother, go. Mrs Am. I must receive some money here first, which shall go for thy wedding-dinner. Dick. Here's somebody coming. S'death! she'll betray me. [He makes signs to his mother. Enter FLIPPANTA. Dick Good morrow, dear Flippanta: How do all the ladies within? Flip. At your service, colonel; as far at least as my interest goes. Mrs Am. Colonel !- -Law you now, how Dick's respected! [Aside. Dick. Waiting for thee, Flippanta, I was making acquaintance with this old gentlewoman here. Birs Am. The pretty lad, he's as impudent as a page. [Aside. Dick. Who is this good woman, Flippanta? Fup. A gin of all trades; an old daggling cheat, that hobbles about from house to house, to bubble the ladies of their money. I have a small business of yours in my pocket, colonel. Dick. An answer to my letter? Flip. So quick indeed! No, it's your letter itself. Dick. Hast thou not given it then yet? Flip. I ha'n't had an opportunity; but it won't be long first. Won't you go in and see my lady? Dick. Yes, I'll go make her a short visit. But, dear Flippanta, don't forget: my life and fortune are in your hands. Flip. Ne'er fear; I'll take care of 'em. Mrs Am. How he traps 'em! let Dick_alone. [Aside. Dick. Your servant, good madam. [To his Mother. Exit DICK. Mrs Am. Your honour's most devoted.-A pretty, civil, well-bred gentleman this, Mrs Flippanta. Pray, whom may he be? Flip. A man of great note-Colonel Shapely. Mrs Am. Is it possible? I have heard much of him indeed, but never saw him before: One may see quality in every limb of him: he's a fine man, truly. Flip. I think you are in love with him, Mrs Amlet. Mrs Am. Alas, those days are done with me; but if I were as fair as I was once, and had as much money as some folks, Colonel Shapely should not catch cold for want of a bed-fellow. I love your men of rank; they have something in their air does so distinguish 'em from the rascality. Flip. People of quality are fine things indeed, Mrs Amlet, if they had but a little more money; but for want of that, they are forced to do things their great souls are ashamed of. For examplehere's my lady-she owes you but six-and-fifty pounds Mrs Am. Well. quality, is a sacred thing, and not to be profan'd: 'tis consecrated to their pleasures: 'twould be sacrilege to pay their debts with it. Mrs Am. Why, what shall we do then? For I ha'n't one penny to buy bread. Flip. I'll tell you-it just now comes in my head: I know my lady has a little occasion for money at this time; so-if you lend her—a hundred pounds-do you see, then she may pay you your six-and-fifty out of it. Mrs Am. Sure, Mrs Flippanta, you think to make a fool of me. Flip. No, the devil fetch me if I do--You Mrs Am. Say no more. Bring the necklace to Flip. Well, and she has it not by her to pay my house: it shall be ready for you. you. Mrs Am. How can that be? Flip. I don't know: her cash-keeper's out of humour: he says he has no money. Mrs Am. What a presumptuous piece of vermin is a cash-keeper! Tell his lady he has no money?-Now, Mrs Flippanta, you may see his bags are full, by his being so saucy. Flip. If they are, there's no help for't; he'll do what he pleases, till he comes to make up his yearly accounts. Mrs Am. But madam plays sometimes; so when she has good fortune, she may pay me out of her winnings. Flip. O, ne'er think of that, Mrs Amlet: if she had won a thousand pounds, she'd rather die in a jail, than pay off a farthing with it. Play-money, Mrs Amlet, amongst people of Flip. I'll be with you in a moment. FLIPPANTA sola. [Exit AMLET. So- -this ready money will make us all happy: this spring will set our basset-table going, and that's a wheel will turn twenty others. My lady's young and handsome; she'll have a dozen intrigues upon her hands, before she has been twice at her prayers. So much the better the more the grist, the richer the miller. Sure never wench got into so hopeful a place: Here's a fortune to be sold, a mistress to be debauched, and a master to be ruined. If I don't feather my nest, and get a good husband, I deserve to die both a maid and a beggar. [Exit. before she can come abroad, is so long a placing her coquette-patch, that I must be a year without company. How insupportable is a moment's uneasiness to a woman of spirit and pleasure! Enter FLIPPANTA. Clar. O, art thou come at last? Pr'ythee, Flippanta, learn to move a little quicker: thou knowest how impatient I am. you Flip. Yes, when you expect money: : If had sent me to buy a prayer-book, you'd have thought I had flown. Clar. Well, hast thou brought me any, after all? Flip. Yes, I have brought some. There, [Giving her a purse ;] the old hag has struck off her bill; the rest is in that purse. Clar. 'Tis well; but take care, Flippanta, my husband don't suspect any thing of this: 'twould vex him, and I don't love to make him uneasy: so I would spare him these little sort of troubles, by keeping 'em from his knowledge. Flip. See the tenderness she has for him, and yet he's always complaining of you. Clar. "Tis the nature of 'em, Flippanta: a husband is a growling animal. Fip. How exactly you define 'em! Clar. O! I know 'em, Flippanta: though, I confess, my poor wretch diverts me sometimes with his ill humours. I wish he would quarrel with me to-day a little, to pass away the time, for I find myself in a violent spleen. Flip. Why, if you please to drop yourself in his way, six to four but he scolds one rubbers with you. Clar. Ay, but thou knowest he's as uncertain as the wind; and if, instead of quarrelling with me, he should chance to be fond, he'd make me as sick as a dog. Flip. If he's kind, you must provoke him; if he kisses you, spit in his face. Clar. Alas, when men are in the kissing fit, (like lap-dogs,) they take that for a favour. Flip. Nay, then, I don't know what you'll do with him. Clar. I'll e'en do nothing at all with him.Flippanta. [Yawning. Flip. Madam. Clar. My hood and scarf, and a coach to the ⚫ door. Flip. Why, whither are you going? Clar. I cann't tell yet, but I would go spend some money, since I have it. Flip. Why, you want nothing, that I know of. Clar. How awkward an objection now is that, as if a woman of education bought things because she wanted 'em! Quality always distinguishes itself; and therefore, as the mechanic people buy things because they have occasion for 'em, you see women of rank always buy things because they have not occasion for 'em. Now there, Flippanta, you see the difference between a woman that has breeding, and one that has none. O ho! here's Araminta come at last, Enter ARAMINTA. Clar. Lard, what a tedious while you have let me expect you! I was afraid you were not well. How d'ye do to-day? Aram, As well as a woman can do, that has not slept all night. Flip. Methinks, madam, you are pretty well awake, however. Aram. O, 'tis not a little thing will make a woman of my vigour look drowsy. Clar. But, pr'ythee, what was't disturbed you? self at least ; I am not in love with him yet. Aram. Not your husband; don't trouble your Clar. Well remembered; I had quite forgot that noble conquest indeed. matter. I wish you much joy: you have made a Aram. But now I have subdued the country, pray is it worth my keeping? You know the ground: you have tried it. Clar. A barren soil, Heaven can tell. Aram. Yet if it were well cultivated, it would produce something, to my knowledge. Do you know 'tis in my power to ruin this poor thing of yours? His whole estate is at my service. Flip. Cods-fish! strike him, madam, and let my lady go your halves. There's no sin in plundering a husband, so his wife has share of the booty. Aram. Whenever she gives me her orders, I shall be very ready to obey 'em. Clar. Why, as odd a thing as such a project may seem, Araminta, I believe I shall have a little serious discourse with you about it. But, pr'ythee, tell me how you have passed the night; for I am sure your mind has been roving upon some pretty thing or other. Aram. Why, I have been studying all the ways my brain could produce to plague my husband. Clar. No wonder, indeed, you look so fresh this morning, after the satisfaction of such pleasing ideas all night. mischief, when she has tumbled and tossed her Aram. Why, can a woman do less than study self into a burning fever for want of sleep, and sees a fellow lie snoring by her side, stock-still, in a fine breathing sweat? Clar. Now see the difference of women's tem pers: If my dear would make but one nap of his whole life, and only waken to make his will, I should be the happiest wife in the universe. But we'll discourse more of these matters as we go, for I must make a tour among the shops. Aram. I have a coach waits at the door: we'll talk of 'em as we rattle along. Clar. The best place in nature; for you know a hackney-coach is a natural enemy to a husband. [Exeunt CLAR. and ARAM. FLIPPANTA sola. What a pretty little pair of amiable persons are there gone to hold a council of war together! Poor birds! What would they do with their time, if plaguing their husbands did not help 'em to employment! Well, if idleness be the root of all evil, then matrimony's good for something; for it |