The Female Wits Part 13

_Mar._ O fie, Mr. _Praiseall_, 'twas the Struglings of his Virtue put him in such a Pa.s.sion.

_Prais._ Ah! Madam! When once Virtue comes to strugle, either in Male or Female, it commonly yields.

_Mars._ You are waggish----Now for my Dance----Mrs.-----Mrs. _Cross_, Mrs. _Cross_, come you little Cherubim, your Dance.

A _DANCE_.

_Aw'dwell._ Pray, Madam, who is this Dance to entertain?

_Mar._ What, do you sit an Hour to study a cross Question? Why, to satisfie you, Sir, you are to suppose _Fastin_, in pa.s.sing towards his Mothers Lodgings, may, out of some Gallery, see it; now you are answered.

_Aw'dw._ I am.

Mr. _Prais._ Ay, and sufficiently too: A Gallery Balcony, twenty Peepholes.

_Enter Mrs._ Cross

Mrs. _Cross_. Madam, I cou'd wish you wou'd not be disoblig'd if I gave up this Part, I shall get my self, nor you, no Credit by it.

_Mar._ How, Mrs. _Cross_! Disoblig'd! a.s.sure your self, I shall resent it ill to the last Degree, what throw up my Heroine! my _Isabella_! Was there ever a Character more Chaste, more n.o.ble, or more Pitiful?

Mrs. _Cross_. Yes, very Chaste, when I am in Love with my Father-in-Law's Steward, I know not why, nor wherefore.

_Mar._ Mrs. _Cross_, I maintain, no Woman in the Play-House, nor out of the Play-house, can be chaster than I ma'e _Isabella_, but trouble your Head no further, I'll do the Part my self.

Mrs. _Cross_. With all my Heart.

_Mar._ And let me tell you Mistress _Cross_, I shall command whatever is in the Wardrobe, I a.s.sure you!

Mrs _Cross_. Any of my Gowns are at your Service, if they'll fit you, Madam.

_Mar._ Nay, they shall be; perhaps, without boasting, I command them, that command you.

Mrs. _Cross_. Perhaps 'tis not worth boasting on; there's your part.

[_Exit._

_Mar._ A little inconsiderable Creature! Well, she shall see how much better 'twill be done, and for meer madness, hang her self in her own Garters. Mrs. _Wellfed_, I'll wear a white Feather, That, I believe, will become me best. _Patty_, is _Patty_ there?

_Pat._ Yes, Madam.

_Mar._ _Patty_, run to the Exchange, bring me a Dozen yards of Scarlet Ribbon; and d'ye hear _Patty_? Some s.h.i.+ning Patches, some Pulvil and Essence, my Lord Duke shall help me to Jewels, throw up her part! I'll fit her, let her see how the Town will receive her, after I have trode the Stage.

Mr. _Aw'dw._ Why, Madam, you are not in earnest!

_Mar._ By my hopes of _Catiline_, I am.

Mr. _Aw'dw._ For Heav'ns sake, don't make your self so irrecoverably rediculous.

Mr. _Prais._ Do, Madam, I say, 'Gad, I'll make such a Party_!_ Gad, I'll do nothing but clap, from the time I come into the House, 'till I go out; Ouns, I'll be hang'd if it don't bring a Swindging Audience, on the third day.

Mr. _Aw'dw._ To dance naked on the third Day, wou'd bring a bigger Audience; Why don't you perswade the Lady to that? [_Speaking loud to_ Marsillia.

Do, _Marsillia_, be rul'd by your Vanity, and that good Friend, Mr.

_Praiseall_; but rest a.s.sur'd, after such a weakness, I will never see your Face again.

_Mar._ Ha! I must not loose him. (_aside_) Why, Mr. _Aw'dwell_, wou'd you have such a hopeful Play lost? Can you be so unreasonable to desire it? And that Part ruins all.

Mr. _Aw'dwell_. Give me the Part, and I'll try to perswade Mrs. _Cross_.

_Mar._ Do, that's a good Boy; and I won't disoblige him this two days.

Mr. _Aw'dw._ Is't possible! Will you dine at your own Lodgings to day?

I'll give Order for some Dishes of Meat there?

_Mar._ Yes, yes.

Mr. _Aw'dw._ Don't serve me now, as you did when I provided a handsome Dinner for you at my own House; and you whiskt to _Chelsy_, in a Coach, with the Lord knows who.

_Mar._ No, I scorn it. [_Exit Mr._ Aw'dwell.

_Prais._ You was talking of Wine, there is some within; pray take a Recruit before you proceed.

_Mar._ A good Motion, wait upon these two Ladies in, and I'll follow; I must practice a little, least Mrs. _Cross_ shou'd prove stubborn, and then, not my Father's Ghost shou'd hinder me.

_Calista._ We'll begin your health.

[_Exeunt._

_Mar._ Do. Whom shall I Curse, my Birth, My Fate, or Stars! All are my Foes! All bent to ruine Innocence!

_Enter_ Patty, _with Patches_, _Powder_, _Looking-gla.s.s_, &c.

_Pat._ Oh, Madam!

_Mar._ How now, Impertinence! was not you told of Interrupting once to Day? Look how she stands now! How long must I expect what you have to say?

_Pat._ My Lord _Whiffle_ is come to wait on your Ladys.h.i.+p, and sends to know, whether you are at leisure.

_Mar._ Ay, he understands Breeding, and Decorum. Is my Dress in great disorder?

_Pat._ You Look all Charming, Madam.

_Mar._ Hold the Gla.s.s; give me some Patches; my Box is done; I am much oblig'd to his Lords.h.i.+p for this Honour. Some Powder. (_Pulls the Box out of her Pocket._ Put my Gown to rights, and shake my Tail. The unmannerly Blockheads have made a Road over it, and left the vile Impression of their Nauseous Feet. Well, how do I look now, _Patty_?

_Pat._ Like one of the Graces, drest for a Ball at the Court of _Orleans_.

_Mar._ Ha, ha, ha; well said, _Patty_; now for my dear dear Lord _Whiffle_.