William Wycherley [Four Plays]. William Wycherley

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СКАЧАТЬ to bargain for us behind our backs, since you have the impudence to claim a propriety in us to my face.

      Ran. How's this, Dapperwit?

      Dap. Come, come, this gentleman will not think the worse of a woman for my acquaintance with her. He has seen me bring your daughter to the lure with a chiney-orange, from one side of the playhouse to the other.

      Mrs. Cros. I would have the gentleman and you to know my daughter is a girl of reputation, though she has been seen in your company; but is now so sensible of her past danger, that she is resolved never more to venture her pitcher to the well, as they say.

      Dap. How's that, widow? I wonder at your confidence.

      Mrs. Cros. I wonder at your old impudence, that where you have had so frequent repulses you should provoke another, and bring your friend here to witness your disgrace.

      Dap. Hark you, widow, a little.

      Mrs. Cros. What, have you mortgaged my daughter to that gentleman; and now would offer me a snip to join in the security!

      Dap. [Aside.] She overhead me talk of a bargain;—'twas unlucky.—[Aloud.] Your wrath is grounded upon a mistake; Miss Lucy herself shall be judge; call her out, pray.

      Mrs. Cros. She shall not; she will not come to you.

      Dap. Till I hear it from her own mouth, I cannot believe it.

      Mrs. Cros. You shall hear her say't through the door.

      Dap. I shall doubt it unless she say it to my face.

      Mrs. Cros. Shall we be troubled with you no more then?

      Dap. If she command my death, I cannot disobey her.

      Mrs. Cros. Come out, child.

      Enter Lucy, holding down her head.

      Dap. Your servant, dearest miss: can you have—

      Mrs. Cros. Let me ask her.

      Dap. No, I'll ask her.

      Ran. I'll throw up cross or pile[39] who shall ask her.

      Dap. Can you have the heart to say you will never more break a cheese-cake with me at New Spring Garden,[40] the Neat-house, or Chelsea? never more sit in my lap at a new play? never more wear a suit of knots of my choice? and, last of all, never more pass away an afternoon with me again in the Green Garret?—do not forget the Green Garret.

      Lucy. I wish I had never seen the Green Garret.—Damn the Green Garret!

      Dap. Damn the Green Garret!—You are strangely altered!

      Lucy. 'Tis you are altered.

      Dap. You have refused Colby's Mulberry-garden, and the French houses, for the Green Garret; and a little something in the Green Garret pleased you more than the best treat the other places could yield; and can you of a sudden quit the Green Garret?

      Lucy. Since you have a design to pawn me for the rent, 'tis time to remove my goods.

      Dap. Thou art extremely mistaken.

      Lucy. Besides, I have heard such strange things of you this morning.

      Dap. What things?

      Lucy. I blush to speak 'em.

      Dap. I know my innocence, therefore take my charge as a favour. What have I done?

      Lucy. Then know, vile wit, my mother has confessed just now thou wert false to me, to her too certain knowledge; and hast forced even her to be false to me too.

      Dap. Faults in drink, Lucy, when we are not ourselves, should not condemn us.

      Lucy. And now to let me out to hire like a hackney!—I tell you my own dear mother shall bargain for me no more; there are as little as I can bargain for themselves now-a-days, as well as properer women.

      Mrs. Cros. Whispering all this while!—Beware of his snares again: come away, child.

      Dap. Sweet, dear miss—

      Lucy. Bargain for me!—you have reckoned without your hostess, as they say. Bargain for me! bargain for me! [Exit.

      Dap. I must return, then, to treat with you.

      Mrs. Cros. Treat me no treatings, but take a word for all. You shall no more dishonour my daughter, nor molest my lodgings, as you have done at all hours.

      Dap. Do you intend to change 'em, then, to Bridewell, or Long's powdering-tub?[41]

      Mrs. Cros. No, to a bailiff's house, and then you'll be so civil, I presume, as not to trouble us.

      Ran. Here, will you have my comb again, Dapperwit?

      Dap. A pox! I think women take inconstancy from me worse than from any man breathing.

      Mrs. Cros. Pray, sir, forget me before you write your next lampoon. [Exit.

      Enter Sir Simon Addleplot in the dress of a Clerk.—Ranger retires to the background.

      Sir Sim. Have I found you? have I found you in your by-walks, faith and troth? I am almost out of breath in following you. Gentlemen when they get into an alley walk so fast, as if they had more earnest business there than in the broad streets.

      Dap. [Aside.]—How came this sot hither? Fortune has sent him to ease my choler.—You impudent rascal, who are you, that dare intrude thus on us? [Strikes him.

      Sir Sim. Don't you know me, Dapperwit? sure you know me. [Softly.

      Dap. Will thou dishonour me with thy acquaintance too? thou rascally, insolent, pen-and-ink man. [Strikes him again.

      Sir Sim. Oh! oh! sure you know me! pray know me. [Softly.

      Dap. By thy saucy familiarity, thou shouldst be a marker at a tennis-court, a barber, or a slave that fills coffee.

      Sir Sim. Oh! oh!

      Dap. What art thou? [Kicks him.

      Sir Sim. Nay, I must not discover myself to Ranger for a kick or two. Oh, pray hold, sir: by that you will know me. [Delivers him a letter.

      Dap. How, Sir Simon!

      Sir Sim. Mum, mum, make no excuses, man; I would not Ranger should have known me for five hundred—kicks.

      Dap. Your disguise is so natural, I protest, it will excuse me.

      Sir СКАЧАТЬ