The Busie Body Part 7

Sir _Geo._ Very well! she's tractable I find--And is it possible that you can love him? Miraculous! (__Miran._ Nods._) Pardon the bluntness of my Questions, for my Time is short; may I not hope to supplant him in your Esteem? (__Miran._ Sighs._) Good! she answers me as I could wish--You'll not consent to marry him then? (__Miran._ Sighs._) How, doubtful in that--Undone again--Humph! but that may proceed from his Power to keep her out of her Estate till Twenty Five; I'll try that--Come, Madam, I cannot think you hesitate in this Affair out of any Motive, but your Fortune--Let him keep it till those few Years are expir'd; make me Happy with your Person, let him enjoy your Wealth--(__Miran._ holds up her Hands._) Why, what Sign is that now?

Nay, nay, Madam, except you observe my Lesson, I can't understand your meaning--

Sir _Fran._ What a Vengeance, are they talking by Signs, 'ad I may be fool'd here; what do you mean, Sir _George?_

Sir _Geo._ To Cut your Throat if you dare Mutter another Syllable.

Sir _Fran._ Od! I wish he were fairly out of my House.

Sir _Geo._ Pray, Madam, will you answer me to the Purpose? (__Miran._ shakes her Head, and points to Sir _Francis_._) What! does she mean she won't answer me to the purpose, or is she afraid yon' old Cuff should understand her Signs?--Aye, it must be that, I perceive, Madam, you are too apprehensive of the Promise you have made to follow my Rules; therefore I'll suppose your Mind and answer for you--First, for my self, Madam, that I am in Love with you is an infallible Truth. Now for you: (_Turns on her side._) Indeed, Sir, and may I believe it--As certainly, Madam, as that 'tis Day light, or that I Die if you persist in Silence--Bless me with the Musick of your Voice, and raise my Spirits to their proper Heaven: Thus low let me intreat; e'er I'm oblig'd to quit this Place, grant me some Token of a favourable Reception to keep my Hopes alive. (_Arises hastily turns of her side._) Rise, Sir, and since my Guardian's Presence will not allow me Privilege of Tongue, Read that and rest a.s.sured you are not indifferent to me. (_Offers her a Letter._) Ha! right Woman! But no (_She strikes it down._) matter I'll go on.

Sir _Fran._ Ha! what's that a Letter--Ha, ha, ha, thou art baulk'd.

_Miran._ The best a.s.surance I ever saw-- (_Aside._

Sir _Geo._ Ha? a Letter, Oh! let me Kiss it with the same Raptures that I would do the dear Hand that touch'd it. (_Opens it._) Now for a quick Fancy and a long _Extempore_--What's here? (_Reads._) "Dear, Sir _George_, this Virgin Muse I consecrate to you, which when it has receiv'd the Addition of your Voice, 'twill Charm me into Desire of Liberty to Love, which you, and only you can fix." My Angel! Oh you transport me! (_Kisses the Letter._) And see the Power of your Command; the G.o.d of Love has set the Verse already; the flowing Numbers Dance into a Tune, and I'm inspir'd with a Voice to sing it.

_Miran._ I'm sure thou art inspir'd with Impudence enough.

Sir _Geo._ (_Sings._) _Great Love inspire him; Say I admire him.

Give me the Lover That can discover Secret Devotion from silent Motion; Then don't betray me, But hence convey me._

Sir _Geo._ (_Taking hold of _Miranda_._) With all my Heart, this Moment let's Retire.

(_Sir _Francis_ coming up hastily._)

Sir _Fran._ The Hour is expir'd, Sir, and you must take your leave.

There, my Girl, there's the Hundred Pound which thou hast won, go, I'll be with you presently, Ha, ha, ha, ha.

(_Exit _Miranda_._

Sir _Geo._ Ads Heart, Madam, you won't leave me just in the Nick, will you?

Sir _Fran._ Ha, ha, ha, she has nick'd you, Sir _George_, I think, Ha, ha, ha: Have you any more Hundred Pounds to throw away upon Courts.h.i.+p, Ha, ha, ha.

Sir _Geo._ He, he, he, he, a Curse of your fleering Jests--Yet, however ill I succeeded, I'll venture the same Wager, she does not value thee a spoonful of Snuff--Nay more, though you enjoyn'd her Silence to me, you'll never make her speak to the Purpose with your self.

Sir _Fran._ Ha, ha, ha, did not I tell thee thou would'st repent thy Money? Did not I say she hated young Fellow's, Ha, ha, ha.

Sir _Geo._ And I'm positive she's not in Love with Age.

Sir _Fran._ Ha, ha, no matter for that, Ha, ha, she's not taken with your Youth, nor your Rhetorick to boot, ha, ha.

Sir _Geo._ Whate'er her Reasons are for disliking a me, I am certain she can be taken with nothing about thee.

Sir _Fran._ Ha, ha, ha; how he swells with Envy!--Poor Man, poor Man--Ha, ha; I must beg your Pardon, Sir _George_, _Miranda_ will be Impatient to have her share of Mirth: Verily we shall Laugh at thee most Egregiously; Ha, ha, ha.

Sir _Geo._ With all my Heart, faith--I shall Laugh in my Turn too--For if you dare marry her old _Belzebub_, you would be Cuckolded most Egregiously; Remember that, and Tremble--

_She that to Age her Beauteous Self resigns, Shows witty Management for close Designs.

Then if thou'rt grac'd with fair _Miranda_'s Bed, _Actaeon_'s Horns she Means, shall Crown thy Head._ (_Exit._

Sir _Fran._ Ha, ha, ha; he is mad.

_These fluttering Fops imagine they can Wind, Turn, and Decoy to Love, all Women-kind: But here's a Proof of Wisdom in my Charge, Old Men are Constant, Young Men live at Large.

The Frugal Hand can Bills at Sight defray, When he that Lavish is, has Nought to pay._ (_Exit._

SCENE _Changes to Sir _Jealous Traffick_'s House._

_Enter Sir _Jealous_, _Isabinda_, _Patch_ following._

Sir _Jeal._ What in the Balcone agen, notwithstanding my positive Commands to the contrary!--Why don't you write a Bill upon your Forehead, to show Pa.s.sengers there's something to be Let--

_Isab._ What harm can there be in a little fresh Air, Sir?

Sir _Jeal._ Is your Const.i.tution so hot, Mistriss, that it wants cooling, ha? Apply the Virtuous _Spanish_ Rules, banish your Tast, and Thoughts of Flesh, feed upon Roots, and quench your Thirst with Water.

_Isab._ That, and a close Room, wou'd certainly make me die of the Vapours.

Sir _Jeal._ No, Mistriss, 'tis your High-fed, l.u.s.ty, Rambling, Rampant Ladies--that are troubl'd with the Vapours; 'tis your Ratifia, Persico, Cynamon, Citron, and Spirit of Clary, cause such Swi--m--ing in the Brain, that carries many a Guinea full-tide to the Doctor. But you are not to be Bred this way; No Galloping abroad, no receiving Visits at home; for in our loose Country, the Women are as dangerous as the Men.

_Patch._ So I told her, Sir; and that it was not Decent to be seen in a Balcone--But she threaten'd to slap my Chaps, and told me, I was her Servant, not her Governess.

Sir _Jeal._ Did she so? But I'll make her to know, that you are her _Duenna_: Oh that incomparable Custom of _Spain!_ why here's no depending upon old Women in my Country--for they are as Wanton at Eighty, as a Girl of Eighteen; and a Man may as safely trust to _Asgill_'s Translation, as to his great Grand-Mother's not marrying agen.

_Isab._ Or to the _Spanish_ Ladies Veils, and _Duenna's_, for the Safeguard of their Honour.

Sir _Jeal._ Dare to Ridicule the Cautious Conduct of that wise Nation, and I'll have you Lock'd up this Fortnight, without a Peephole.

_Isab._ If we had but the Ghostly Helps in _England_, which they have in _Spain_, I might deceive you if you did,--Sir, 'tis not the Restraint, but the Innate Principles, secures the Reputation and Honour of our s.e.x--Let me tell you, Sir, Confinement sharpens the Invention, as want of Sight strengthens the other Senses, and is often more Pernicious than the Recreation innocent Liberty allows.

Sir _Jeal._ Say you so, Mistress, who the Devil taught you the Art of Reasoning? I a.s.sure you, they must have a greater Faith than I pretend to, that can think any Woman innocent who requires Liberty. Therefore, _Patch_, to your Charge I give her; Lock her up till I come back from Change: I shall have some sauntring c.o.xcomb, with nothing but a Red Coat and a Feather, think, by Leaping into her Arms, to Leap into my Estate--But I'll prevent them, she shall be only Signeur _Babinetto_'s.

_Patch._ Really, Sir, I wish you wou'd employ any Body else in this Affair; I lead a Life like a Dog with obeying your Commands. Come, Madam, will you please to be Lock'd up.

_Isab._ Ay, to enjoy more Freedom than he is aware of.

(_Aside._ (_Exit with _Patch_._

Sir _Jeal._ I believe this Wench is very true to my Interest: I am happy I met with her, if I can but keep my Daughter from being blown upon till Signeur _Babinetto_ arrives; who shall marry her as soon as he comes, and carry her to _Spain_ as soon as he has marry'd her; she has a pregnant Wit, and I'd no more have her an _English_ Wife, than the Grand Signior's Mistress.

(_Exit._

_Enter _Whisper_._

_Whisp._ So, I see Sir _Jealous_ go out; where shall I find Mrs. _Patch_ now.

_Enter _Patch_._

_Patch._ Oh Mr. _Whisper_, my Lady saw you out at the Window, and order'd me to bid you fly, and let your Master know she's now alone.