but for my own, and if you can contrive any way of being a whore without making me a cuckold, do it
MRS. SUL. Sir, I thank you kindly; you would allow me the sin but rob me of the pleasure. -- No, no, I'm resolved never to venture upon the crime without the satisfaction of seeing you punished for't.
|SUL. Then will you grant me this, my dear?||445|
COUNT BEL. Ah, sir, that be ungrateful, for begar, I love some of yours. -- Madam -----
|MRS. SUL. No, sir. --||450|
COUNT BEL. No, sir! -- Garzoon, madam, I am not your husband!
MRS. SUL. 'Tis time to undeceive you, sir. I believed your addresses to me were no more than an
|amusement, and I hope you will think the same||455|
COUNT BEL. By your appointment?
MRS. SUL. Certainly.
COUNT BEL. And so, madam, while I was telling twenty stories to part you from your husband, begar,
|I was bringing you together all the while?||465|
MRS. SUL. I ask your pardon, Sir, but I hope this will give you a taste of the virtue of the English ladies.
COUNT BEL. Begar, madam, your virtue be vera great, but garzoon, your honeste be vera little.
|MRS. SUL. Nay, now, you're angry, sir.||470|
COUNT BEL. Angry! - Fair Dorinda. (Sings'Dorinda,' the opera tune, and addresses to DORINDA.) Madam, when your ladyship want a fool, send for me. Fair Dorinda, Revenge, etc.1Exit.
|MRS. SUL. There goes the true humor of his||475|
DOR. And I bring in my brother guilty.
|MRS. SUL. But I must bear the punishment.||480|
DOR. I own it; but you must have patience.
MRS. SUL. Patience! the cant of custom -- Providence sends no evil without a remedy -- should I
|lie groaning under a yoke I can shake Off, I||485|
DOR. But how can you shake off the yoke? Your divisions,2, don't come within the reach of the law
|for a divorce.||490|
MRS. SUL. Law! what law can search into the remote abyss of nature? what evidence can prove the unaccountable disaffections of wedlock? Can a jury sum up the endless aversions that are rooted in our
|souls, or can a bench give judgment upon an||495|
DOR. They never pretended, sister; they never meddle, but in case of uncleanness.
MRS. SUL. Uncleanness! O sister! casual viola
|tion is a transient injury, and may possibly be||500|
Wedlock we own ordained by heaven's decree, But such as heaven ordained it first to be -- Concurring tempers in the man and wife As mutual helps to draw the load of life.
The stars with harmony and concord move;
View all the works of Providence above, 510
View all the works of Providence below,
The fire, the water, earth, and air, we know,
All in one plant agree to make it grow.
Be doomed in endless discord to repine? No, we should injure heaven by that surmise; Omnipotence is just, were man but wise.
Must man, the chiefest work of art divine, 515
Enter MRS. SULLEN.
MRS. SUL. Were I born an humble Turk, where women have no soul nor property, there I must sit contented. But in England, a country whose women are its glory, must women be abused? where women
|rule, must women be enslaved? nay, cheated into||5|
Enter a Country Women.
|WOM. I come, an't please your ladyships --||10|
MRS. SUL. Well, good woman, go on.____________________