William Wycherley [Four Plays]. William Wycherley

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СКАЧАТЬ since the moon consents now I should see your face, let me desire you to pull off your mask; which to a handsome lady is a favour, I'm sure.

      Lyd. Truly, sir, I must not be long in debt to you for the obligation; pray let me hear you recite some of your verses; which to a wit is a favour, I'm sure.

      Dap. Madam, it belongs to your sex to be obliged first; pull off your mask, and I'll pull out my paper.—[Aside.] Brisk again, of my side.

      Lyd. 'Twould be in vain, for you would want a candle now.

      Dap. [Aside.] I dare not make use again of the lustre of her face.—[To Lydia.] I'll wait upon you home then, madam.

      Lyd. Faith, no; I believe it will not be much to our advantages to bring my face or your poetry to light: for I hope you have yet a pretty good opinion of my face, and so have I of your wit. But if you are for proving your wit, why do not you write a play?

      Dap. Because 'tis now no more reputation to write a play, than it is honour to be a knight. Your true wit despises the title of poet, as much as your true gentleman the title of knight; for as a man may be a knight and no gentleman, so a man may be a poet and no wit, let me perish!

      Lyd. Pray, sir, how are you dignified or distinguished amongst the rates of wits? and how many rates are there?

      Dap. There are as many degrees of wits as of lawyers: as there is first your solicitor, then your attorney, then your pleading-counsel, then your chamber-counsel, and then your judge; so there is first your court-wit, your coffee-wit, your poll-wit, or politic-wit, your chamber-wit, or scribble-wit, and last of all, your judge-wit, or critic.

      Lyd. But are there as many wits as lawyers? Lord, what will become of us!—What employment can they have? how are they known?

      Dap. First, your court-wit is a fashionable, insinuating, flattering, cringing, grimacing fellow—and has wit enough to solicit a suit of love; and if he fail, he has malice enough to ruin the woman with a dull lampoon:—but he rails still at the man that is absent, for you must know all wits rail; and his wit properly lies in combing perukes, matching ribbons, and being severe, as they call it, upon other people's clothes.

      Lyd. Now, what is the coffee-wit?

      Dap. He is a lying, censorious, gossiping, quibbling wretch, and sets people together by the ears over that sober drink, coffee: he is a wit, as he is a commentator, upon the Gazette; and he rails at the pirates of Algier, the Grand Signior of Constantinople, and the Christian Grand Signior.

      Lyd. What kind of man is your poll-wit?

      Dap. He is a fidgetting, busy, dogmatical, hot-headed fop, that speaks always in sentences and proverbs, (as other in similitudes,) and he rails perpetually against the present government. His wit lies in projects and monopolies, and penning speeches for young parliament men.

      Lyd. But what is your chamber-wit, or scribble-wit?

      Dap. He is a poring, melancholy, modest sot, ashamed of the world: he searches all the records of wit, to compile a breviate of them for the use of players, printers, booksellers, and sometimes cooks, tobacco-men; he employs his railing against the ignorance of the age, and all that have more money than he.

      Lyd. Now your last.

      Dap. Your judge-wit, or critic, is all these together, and yet has the wit to be none of them: he can think, speak, write, as well as the rest, but scorns (himself a judge) to be judged by posterity: he rails at all the other classes of wits, and his wit lies in damning all but himself:—he is your true wit.

      Lyd. Then, I suspect you are of his form.

      Dap. I cannot deny it, madam.

      Vin. Dapperwit, you have been all this time on the wrong side; for you love to talk all, and here's a lady would not have hindered you.

      Dap. A pox! I have been talking too long indeed here; for wit is lost upon a silly weak woman, as well as courage. [Aside.

      Vin. I have used all common means to move a woman's tongue and mask; I called her ugly, old, and old acquaintance, and yet she would not disprove me:—but here comes Ranger, let him try what he can do; for, since my mistress is dogged, I'll go sleep alone. [Exit.

      Re-enter Ranger.

      Lyd. [Aside.] Ranger! 'tis he indeed: I am sorry he is here, but glad I discovered him before I went. Yet he must not discover me, lest I should be prevented hereafter in finding him out. False Ranger!—[To Lady Flippant.] Nay, if they bring fresh force upon us, madam, 'tis time to quit the field. [Exeunt Lydia and Lady Flippant.

      Ran. What, play with your quarry till it fly from you!

      Dap. You frighten it away.

      Ran. Ha! is not one of those ladies in mourning?

      Dap. All women are so by this light.

      Ran. But you might easily discern. Don't you know her?

      Dap. No.

      Ran. Did you talk with her?

      Dap. Yes, she is one of your brisk silly baggages.

      Ran. 'Tis she, 'tis she!—I was afraid I saw her before; let us follow 'em: prithee make haste.—[Aside.] 'Tis Lydia. [Exeunt.

      Re-enter, on the other side, Lydia and Lady Flippant—Dapperwit and Ranger following them at a distance.

      Lyd. They follow us yet, I fear.

      L. Flip. You do not fear it certainly; otherwise you would not have encouraged them.

      Lyd. For Heaven's sake, madam, waive your quarrel a little, and let us pass by your coach, and so on foot to your acquaintance in the old Pall-mall[33]: for I would not be discovered by the man that came up last to us. [Exeunt.

      SCENE II.—Christina's Lodging.

      Enter Christina and Isabel.

      Isa. For Heaven's sake, undress yourself, madam! They'll not return to-night: all people have left the Park an hour ago.

      Chris. What is't o'clock?

      Isa. 'Tis past one.

      Chris. It cannot be!

      Isa. I thought that time had only stolen from happy lovers:—the disconsolate have nothing to do but to tell the clock.

      Chris. I can only keep account with my misfortunes.

      Isa. I am glad they are not innumerable.

      Chris. And, truly, my undergoing so often your impertinency is not the least of them.

      Isa. СКАЧАТЬ