Love for Love Part 19

ANG. Mr Scandal, I suppose you don't think it a novelty to see a woman visit a man at his own lodgings in a morning?

SCAN. Not upon a kind occasion, madam. But when a lady comes tyrannically to insult a ruined lover, and make manifest the cruel triumphs of her beauty, the barbarity of it something surprises me.

ANG. I don't like raillery from a serious face. Pray tell me what is the matter?

JERE. No strange matter, madam; my master's mad, that's all. I suppose your ladys.h.i.+p has thought him so a great while.

ANG. How d'ye mean, mad?

JERE. Why, faith, madam, he's mad for want of his wits, just as he was poor for want of money; his head is e'en as light as his pockets, and anybody that has a mind to a bad bargain can't do better than to beg him for his estate.

ANG. If you speak truth, your endeavouring at wit is very unseasonable.

SCAN. She's concerned, and loves him. [Aside.]

ANG. Mr Scandal, you can't think me guilty of so much inhumanity as not to be concerned for a man I must own myself obliged to? Pray tell me truth.

SCAN. Faith, madam, I wish telling a lie would mend the matter.

But this is no new effect of an unsuccessful pa.s.sion.

ANG. [Aside.] I know not what to think. Yet I should be vexed to have a trick put upon me. May I not see him?

SCAN. I'm afraid the physician is not willing you should see him yet. Jeremy, go in and enquire.

SCENE III.

SCANDAL, ANGELICA, JENNY.

ANG. Ha! I saw him wink and smile. I fancy 'tis a trick--I'll try.--I would disguise to all the world a failing which I must own to you: I fear my happiness depends upon the recovery of Valentine.

Therefore I conjure you, as you are his friend, and as you have compa.s.sion upon one fearful of affliction, to tell me what I am to hope for--I cannot speak--but you may tell me, tell me, for you know what I would ask?

SCAN. So, this is pretty plain. Be not too much concerned, madam; I hope his condition is not desperate. An acknowledgment of love from you, perhaps, may work a cure, as the fear of your aversion occasioned his distemper.

ANG. [Aside.] Say you so; nay, then, I'm convinced. And if I don't play trick for trick, may I never taste the pleasure of revenge.--Acknowledgment of love! I find you have mistaken my compa.s.sion, and think me guilty of a weakness I am a stranger to.

But I have too much sincerity to deceive you, and too much charity to suffer him to be deluded with vain hopes. Good nature and humanity oblige me to be concerned for him; but to love is neither in my power nor inclination, and if he can't be cured without I suck the poison from his wounds, I'm afraid he won't recover his senses till I lose mine.

SCAN. Hey, brave woman, i'faith--won't you see him, then, if he desire it?

ANG. What signify a madman's desires? Besides, 'twould make me uneasy: --if I don't see him, perhaps my concern for him may lessen.

If I forget him, 'tis no more than he has done by himself; and now the surprise is over, methinks I am not half so sorry as I was.

SCAN. So, faith, good nature works apace; you were confessing just now an obligation to his love.

ANG. But I have considered that pa.s.sions are unreasonable and involuntary; if he loves, he can't help it; and if I don't love, I can't help it; no more than he can help his being a man, or I my being a woman: or no more than I can help my want of inclination to stay longer here. Come, Jenny.

SCENE IV.

SCANDAL, JEREMY.

SCAN. Humh! An admirable composition, faith, this same womankind.

JERE. What, is she gone, sir?

SCAN. Gone? Why, she was never here, nor anywhere else; nor I don't know her if I see her, nor you neither.

JERE. Good lack! What's the matter now? Are any more of us to be mad? Why, sir, my master longs to see her, and is almost mad in good earnest with the joyful news of her being here.

SCAN. We are all under a mistake. Ask no questions, for I can't resolve you; but I'll inform your master. In the meantime, if our project succeed no better with his father than it does with his mistress, he may descend from his exaltation of madness into the road of common sense, and be content only to be made a fool with other reasonable people. I hear Sir Sampson. You know your cue; I'll to your master.

SCENE V.

JEREMY, SIR SAMPSON LEGEND, with a LAWYER.

SIR SAMP. D'ye see, Mr Buckram, here's the paper signed with his own hand.

BUCK. Good, sir. And the conveyance is ready drawn in this box, if he be ready to sign and seal.

SIR SAMP. Ready, body o' me? He must be ready. His sham-sickness shan't excuse him. Oh, here's his scoundrel. Sirrah, where's your master?

JERE. Ah sir, he's quite gone.

SIR SAMP. Gone! What, he is not dead?

JERE. No, sir, not dead.

SIR SAMP. What, is he gone out of town, run away, ha? has he tricked me? Speak, varlet.

JERE. No, no, sir, he's safe enough, sir, an he were but as sound, poor gentleman. He is indeed here, sir, and not here, sir.

SIR SAMP. Hey day, rascal, do you banter me? Sirrah, d'ye banter me? Speak, sirrah, where is he? for I will find him.

JERE. Would you could, sir, for he has lost himself. Indeed, sir, I have a'most broke my heart about him--I can't refrain tears when I think of him, sir: I'm as melancholy for him as a pa.s.sing-bell, sir, or a horse in a pound.

SIR SAMP. A pox confound your similitudes, sir. Speak to be understood, and tell me in plain terms what the matter is with him, or I'll crack your fool's skull.

JERE. Ah, you've hit it, sir; that's the matter with him, sir: his skull's cracked, poor gentleman; he's stark mad, sir.

SIR SAMP. Mad!

BUCK. What, is he non compos?

JERE. Quite non compos, sir.