SIR CHAS. Ten thousand pound, sir.
COUNT BEL. Garzoon, I'll pay it, and she shall go home wid me.
ARCH. Ha, ha, ha! French all over. -- Do 305 you know, sir, what ten thousand pound English is?
COUNT BEL. No, begar, not justement.1
ARCH. Why, sir, 'tis a hundred thousand livres.
COUNT BEL. A hundre tousand livres! Ah, garzoon! me canno' do't; your beauties and 310 their fortunes are both too much for me.
ARCH. Then I will. -- This night's adventure has proved strangely lucky to us all -- for Captain Gibbet in his walk had made bold, Mr. Sullen, with your study and escritoire, and bad taken out 315 all the writings of your estate, all the articles of marriage with his lady, bills, bonds, leases, receipts to an infinite value. I took 'em from him, and I deliver them to Sir Charles.
(Gives him a parcel of papers and parchments.)
SUL. How, my writings! -- my head aches 320 consumedly. -- Well, gentlemen, you shall have her fortune, but I can't talk. If you have a mind, Sir Charles, to be merry, and celebrate my sister's wedding and my divorce, you may command my house -- but my head aches consumedly. -- 325 Scrub, bring me a dram.
ARCH. (to MRS. SULLEN). Madam, there's a country dance to the trifle that I sung today; your hand, and well lead it up. (Here a dance.)
ARCH. 'Twould be hard to guess which of 330 these parties is the better pleased, the couple joined, or the couple parted; the one rejoicing in hopes of an untasted happiness, and the other in their deliverance from an experienced misery.
Both happy in their several states we find, 335
Those parted by consent, and those conjoined.
Consent, if mutual, saves the lawyer's fee --
Consent is law enough to set you free.
DESIGNED TO BE SPOKE IN 'THE BEAUX' STRATAGEM.'
IF to our play your judgment can't be kind,
Let its expiring author pity find:2
Survey his mournful case with melting eyes,
Nor let the bard be damned before he dies.
Forbear, you fair, on his last scene to frown, 5 But his true exit with a plaudit crown; Then shall the dying poet cease to fear
The dreadful knell, while your applause he hears.
At Leuctra so the conqu'ring Theban died,
Claimed his friends' praises, but their tears denied: 10 Pleased in the pangs of death he greatly thought Conquest with loss of life but cheaply bought.
The difference this, the Greek was one would fight,
As brave, though not so gay, as Sergeant Kite;4
Ye sons of Will's, what's that to those who write?
15 To Thebes alone the Grecian owed his bays,
You may the bard above the hero raise,
Since yours is greater than Athenian praise.