CHER. Two thousand pound that I have this minute in my own custody; so, throw off your livery this instant, and I'll go find a parson.
ARCH. What said you? A parson!
| CHER. What! do you scruple? | 240 |
ARCH. Scruple! no, no, but -- Two thousand pound, you say?
CHER. And better.
ARCH. [aside]. 'Sdeath, what shall I do? --
| [Aloud.] But hark'ee, child, what need YOU | 245 |
CHER. Then you won't marry me?
| ARCH. I would marry you, but----- | 250 |
CHER O sweet sir, I'm your humble servant! you're fairly caught: would you persuade me that any gentleman who could bear the scandal of wearing a livery would refuse two thousand pound, let
| the condition be what it would? No, no, sir. | 255 |
ARCH. [aside]. Fairly bit, by Jupiter! -- Hold!
| hold! And have you actually two thousand | 260 |
CHER. Sir, I have my secrets as well as you; when you please to be more open, I shall be more free, and be assured that I have discoveries that will match
| yours, be what they will -- in the meanwhile, | 265 |
ARCH. So! we're like to have as many adventures in our inn as Don Quixote had in his.1 Let me see --
| two thousand pound! If the wench would | 270 |
| devil -- there my pride brings me off. | 275 |
For whatsoe'er the sages charge on pride,
The angels' fall, and twenty faults beside,
On earth, I'm sure, 'mong us of mortal calling,
Pride saves man oft, and woman too, from falling.
Exit.
The gallery in LADY BOUNTIFUL'S house.]
Enter MRS. SULLEN, DORINDA.
MRS. SUL. Ha, ha, ha! my dear sister, let me embrace thee: now we are friends indeed; for I shall have a secret of yours as a pledge for mine -- now you'll be good for something; I shall have you con
| versable2 in the subjects of the sex. | 5 |
DOR. But do you think that I am so weak as to fall in love with a fellow at first sight?
MRS. Sun. Pshaw! now you spoil all; why should not we be as free in our friendships as the men? I warrant you the gentleman has got to his confi 10 dent already, has avowed his passion, toasted your health, called you ten thousand angels, has run over your lips, eyes, neck, shape, air, and everything, in a description that warms their mirth to a second en
| joyment. | 15 |
DOR. Your hand, sister, I an't well.
MRS. SUL. So -- she's breeding already! -- Come, child, up with it -- hem a little -- so -- now tell me, don't you like the gentleman that we saw at church
| just now? | 20 |
DOR. The man's well enough.
MRS. SUL. Well enough! is he not a demigod, a Narcissus, a star, the man i' the moon?
DOR. O sister. I'm extremely ill!
| MRS. SUL. Shall I send to your mother, child, | 25 |
| low; I saw him when he first came into church. | 30 |
DOR. I saw him too, sister, and with an air that shone, methought, like rays about his person.
MRS. SUL. Well said, up with it!
DOR. No forward coquet behavior, no airs to
| set him off, no studied looks nor artful posture-- | 35 |
MRS. SUL. Better and better! One touch more -- come!
DOR. But then his looks -- did you observe his
| eyes? | 40 |
MRS. SUL. Yes, yes, I did. - His eyes, well, what of his eyes?
DOR. Sprightly, but not wand'ring; they seemed to view, but never gazed on anything but me. -- And
| then his looks so humble were, and yet so noble, | 45 |
MRS. SUL. The physic works purely!4 -- How d'ye
| find yourself now, my dear? | 50 |
DOR. Hem! much better, my dear. -- Oh, here comes our Mercury!
Enter SCRUB.
Well, Scrub, what news of the gentleman?
SCRUB. Madam, I have brought you a packet of
| news. | 55 |
-362-
Questia, a part of Gale, Cengage Learning. www.questia.com
Publication information:
Book title: British Dramatists from Dryden to Sheridan.
Contributors: George Henry Nettleton - Editor, Arthur Eillicot Case - Editor.
Publisher: Boston ; Houghton Mifflin company,..
Place of publication: Boston; New York.
Publication year: 1939.
Page number: 362.
This material is protected by copyright and, with the exception of fair use, may not be further copied, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means.
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