Ran. Dapperwit, be your own advocate: my game, I think, is before me there. [Exit.
Dap. This Ranger, I think, has all the ill qualities of all your town fops;—leaving his company for a spruce lord or a wench.
Vin. Nay, if you must rail at your own best friends, I may forgive you railing at mine.
Enter Lydia and Lady Flippant.—They walk over the stage.
Lyd. False Ranger, shall I find thee here? [Aside.
Vin. Those are women, are they not? [To Dapper.
Dap. The least seems to be my Lucy, sure. [Aside.
Vin. Faith, I think I dare speak to a woman in the dark!—let's try.
Dap. They are persons of quality of my acquaintance;—hold!
Vin. Nay, if they are persons of quality of your acquaintance, I may be the bolder with 'em. [The Ladies go off, they follow them.
Re-enter Lydia and Lady Flippant.
Lyd. I come hither to make a discovery to-night.
L. Flip. Of my love to you, certainly; for nobody but you could have debauched me to the Park, certainly. I would not return another night, if it were to redeem my dear husband from his grave.
Lyd. I believe you:—but to get another, widow.
L. Flip. Another husband, another husband, foh!
Lyd. There does not pass a night here but many a match is made.
L. Flip. That a woman of honour should have the word match in her mouth!—but I hope, madam, the fellows do not make honourable love here, do they? I abominate honourable love, upon my honour.
Lyd. If they should make honourable love here, I know you would prevent 'em.
Re-enter Vincent and Dapperwit.—They walk slowly towards the Ladies.
But here come two men will inform you what to do.
L. Flip. Do they come?—are they men certainly?
Lyd. Prepare for an assault, they'll put you to't.
L. Flip. Will they put us to't certainly? I was never put to't yet. If they should put us to't, I should drop down, down, certainly.
Lyd. I believe, truly, you would not have power to run away.
L. Flip. Therefore I will not stay the push.—They come! they come! oh, the fellows come! [Lady Flippant runs away, Lydia follows, and Vincent and Dapperwit after them.
Re-enter Lady Flippant at the other side, alone.
L. Flip. So! I am got off clear! I did not run from the men, but my companion. For all their brags, men have hardly courage to set upon us when our number is equal; now they shall see I defy 'em:—for we women have always most courage when we are alone. But, a pox! the lazy rogues come not! or they are drunk and cannot run. Oh drink! abominable drink! instead of inflaming love, it quenches it; and for one lover it encourages, it makes a thousand impotent. Curse on all wine! even Rhenish wine and sugar—
Enter Sir Simon Addleplot, muffled in a cloak.
But fortune will not see me want; here comes a single bully—I wish he may stand;—
For now a-nights the jostling nymph is bolder
Than modern satyr with his cloak o'er shoulder.
Well met, sir. [She puts on her mask.
Sir Sim. How shall I know that, forsooth? Who are you? do you know me?
L. Flip. Who are you? don't you know me?
Sir Sim. Not I, faith and troth!
L. Flip. I am glad on't; for no man e'er liked a woman the better for having known her before.
Sir Sim. Ay, but then one can't be so free with a new acquaintance as with an old one; she may deny one the civility.
L. Flip. Not till you ask her.
Sir Sim. But I am afraid to be denied.
L. Flip. Let me tell you, sir, you cannot disoblige us women more than in distrusting us.
Sir Sim. Pish! what should one ask for, when you know one's meaning?—but shall I deal freely with you?
L. Flip. I love, of my life, men should deal freely with me; there are so few men will deal freely with one—
Sir Sim. Are you not a fireship,[32] a punk, madam?
L. Flip. Well, sir, I love raillery.
Sir Sim. Faith and troth, I do not rally, I deal freely.
L. Flip. This is the time and place for freedom, sir.
Sir Sim. Are you handsome?
L. Flip. Joan's as good as my lady in the dark, certainly: but men that deal freely never ask questions, certainly.
Sir Sim. How then! I thought to deal freely, and put a woman to the question, had been all one.
L. Flip. But, let me tell you, those that deal freely indeed, take a woman by—
Sir Sim. What, what, what, what?
L. Flip. By the hand—and lead her aside.
Sir Sim. Now I understand you; come along then.
Enter behind Musicians with torches.
L. Flip. What unmannerly rascals are those that bring light into the Park? 'twill not be taken well from 'em by the women, certainly.—[Aside.] Still disappointed!
Sir Sim. Oh, the fiddles, the fiddles! I sent for them hither to oblige the women, not to offend 'em; for I intend to serenade the whole Park to-night. But my frolic is not without an intrigue, faith and troth: for I know the fiddles will call the whole herd of vizard masks together; and then shall I discover if a strayed mistress of mine be not amongst 'em, whom I treated to-night at the French-house; but as soon as the jilt had eat up my meat and drunk her two bottles, she ran away from me, and left me alone.
L. Flip. How! is it he? Addleplot!—that I could not know him by his faith and troth! [Aside.
Sir Sim. Now I would understand her tricks; because I intend to marry her, and should be glad to know what I must trust to.
L. Flip. So thou shalt;—but not yet. [Aside.
Sir Sim. Though I can give a great guess already; for if I have any intrigue or sense in me, she is as arrant a jilt as ever pulled pillow from under husband's head, faith and troth. Moreover she is bow-legged, hopper-hipped, and, betwixt pomatum and Spanish red, has a complexion like a Holland cheese, and no more teeth left than such as give a haut goût to her breath; but she is rich, faith and troth.
L. Flip. [Aside.] Oh rascal! he has heard somebody else say all this of me. But I must not discover myself, lest I should be disappointed of my revenge; for I will marry him. [The Musicians approaching, exit Flippant.
Sir Sim. What, gone!—come then, strike up, my lads.
Enter Men and Women in vizards—a Dance, during which Sir Simon Addleplot, for the most part, stands still in a cloak and vizard; but sometimes goes about peeping, and examining the