The Covent Garden Theatre Part 6

Pas.

Your Ladys.h.i.+p is quite right, go on with the Charge.

Mar.

That the moment this Lady appears in the Boxes the grave part of the fair s.e.x are seen to put their Fans before their Faces; and are heard to whisper one another-- Lud what an indecent Sight Miss Giggle's Neck is-- It is really quite obscene! I wonder somebody does not tell her of it, then the Men, they are all in a high Grin; and the Smarts are frequently heard to roar out-- O Gad-- they are ravis.h.i.+ngly White, and smooth as polish'd Marble!

Dia.

Mr. Pasquin observing upon the whiteness or smoothness of a Lady's Circ.u.mstances is not so Chaste as I cou'd wish.

Pas.

Your Ladys.h.i.+p is in the Right, pray omit those Amorous Exclamations; for tho' they may be the genuin Language of the Smarts, and may be thought Wit and Humour amongst themselves, yet upon the Stage such warm Expressions will be Condemned.

Gig.

Well, Mr. Pasquin, what is Your Highness's Censure upon this dreadfull Affair. ha, ha, ha.

Pas.

Upon my word Madam, I see no Crime in a desire to please; which I suppose was Your Ladys.h.i.+p's Motive. on the Contrary, I have always heard it a.s.serted by the Iudicious in dress, that a fine Woman can never shew too much--

Gig.

Sir I am infinitely Obliged to you, (#bowing very low#) for your Compliment.

Dia.

Mr. Pasquin, you will forfeit my good Opinion-- I a.s.sure you, if you encourage such proceedings. This Lady's indecency is remarkable, and, for public Example, you ought to have Satyriz'd her severely; for there are a Set of them go about on purpose to Exhibit as the Men Phrase it.

Sr. Rog.

You are very right Madam and if there be not a stop put to it, they may in time become Adamites, and go without so much as a Fig leaf.

Pas.

It is a very great Offence against the Laws of Decency to be sure Madam, and in my next Piece I shall give the Coquets no Quarter.-- Your next Culprit Marfario.

Mar.

I as Extraordinary a ffigure as ever was Exhibited upon a Theatre. here, Desire that naked Lady to walk in.

Dia.

O Heav'ns! a naked Lady:-- Why sure Mr. Pasquin, you don't mean to expose such an Object.

Sr. Rog.

Zounds, let her come in.

Omn.

Ay, ay, produce her, produce her.

Sr. Rog.

Lets have her. lets have her! of all things let us have a naked Lady-- If she be-- handsome Pasquin I'll engage your Farce runs a hundred Nights-- I'll hold a Hogshead of Claret to a Gill, she pleases more than the Ostrich.

Sr. Et: Why, Mr. Pasquin, you will frighten all the Ladies out of the Boxes.

I see several of them now that are ready to faint at the bare Idea of a naked Object.

Pas.

You need not fear Sr. Eternal, there shall be nothing exhibited by me offensive to decency or Modesty! Pray lett the Lady walk in, she will be the best Apology for the Expression.

Enter. Lady Lucy Loveit in a Venetian mask, dress'd in a very short Pet: en l'air Slippers, no Stays, her Neck bare, in a Compleat Morning Dress of a very high-bread Woman of Quality.

Ly. Lucy.

Iack Hydra (#running up to him#) do you know me? Miss Brilliant Your Servant-- what you are come to see the New Farce? you never miss a first Night I think-- well what is to become of poor Pasquin, d.a.m.n'd I Suppose.

Brill.

Inevitably Madam unless the Spirit of your Character saves him.

Ly. Lucy.

O your Servant Madam-- Miss Giggle shall wee see you at the Masquerade to Night?

Gigg.

Certainly-- who can She be? She is very elegantly dress'd.

Hyd.

By all that's whimsical it is Lady Lucy, come, come, unmask, unmask, there is no veiling the Sun.

Ly. Lucy.

O you fulsome Creature [#she unmasks#] from what Antiquated Romance did you Steal that vile Compliment.

Omn.

Lady Lucy.

Ly. Lucy.

Ladies your Servant. do you know that I am immensly delighted at meeting so much good Company here?

Hyd: You dear Romantic Angel, what brought you hither thus equipt?

Ly. Lucy.

My dear, I am dress'd for the Masquerade; and was just Steping into my Chair to go to Lady High-Lifes; who Sees Masks to night, when this worthy Weight, with great Civility, told me he had a Warrant from Apollo to take up all disorderly Persons, and said I must go before Monsieur Drawcansir, the Censor of Great Britain.

Omn.

Ridiculous.

Ly. Lucy.

I was pleas'd with the Conceit; so hither I am come to attend his Wors.h.i.+p.

Hyd.

You dear Wild Creature.

Ly. Lucy.

Have you had any Sport.

Hyd.

Infinite-- we have had such hissing, and clapping and laughing-- poor Pasquin has been roasted devilishly.

Ly. Lucy.

O Lud, I am Sorry for that. prithee introduce me to him.